#trying to convince him to make his own blog I wanna tag him in shit

[evie-exxecuted]

the world is so confusing? its hard to explain, but it feels like everyone either wants me to cover up like a nun or reveal everything for their sick pleasure.

people who just want me to be myself are hard to come by, and sometimes it doesnt feel like theyre being honest. how do I even figure out who "myself" is anyway?? wdym Im not just a thoughtless sex doll for the amusement of others??? lmao

even Nico has started becoming uncomfortable with my habits like this. he assures me that I deserve love, even if that doesnt just mean sex, but its just so hard to understand why someone would want me for something other than just being a human fleshlight??? I dont think he entirely gets it, since he doesnt hold any of our sexual trauma. that doesnt mean he doesnt try to be understanding obv, but hes just not equipped for this kind of stuff and I feel bad sometimes for irrationally expecting him to.

idk if any of this is comprehensible lawl... if any1 has any advice hmu ig???

[thera-daydreams]

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie

[starlightrows]

The Lady of The House

Pairing: Boba Fett x fem reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings and Tags: swearing, not a lot of Boba reader interaction, mostly reader just asserting her position as queen

Summary: Two guards, my original characters Tems and Rhys, have been tasked with informing crime boss Boba of an intrusion... but there’s one problem. It’s the middle of the night and he’s currently with his wife sleeping.

AN: Happy Monday! This blog is getting a bouns fic today!

“I don’t wanna go in there Rhys...” Tems said shakily. 

“The boss said he had to be informed immediately if someone was caught trying to break in to the palace, if the alarm on his ship ever tripped, or if the Mand’alor hailed him.... and all three happened over the course of 20 minutes. We have to tell him Tems!” Rhys waved off his patrol partners fretting and made for the handle on the large ornate door leading to Boba Fett’s private chambers “he will feed us to the rankor if we don’t go in there” 

“Look, you’ve only worked here for three lunar cycles. You ever wonder why there was a job open?” Tems grabbed his arm, yanking him back. The Rhys narrowed his eyes, and gave a shake of his head. “You’re all happy to point out the rules the boss has about being informed. But what is the other, number one fucking rule he has?” 

The realization struck him and his eyes went wide, he gave a silent “ohhh” 

Boba Fett’s number one rule, mostly for his business partners, but also his staff: Do not disturb the lady of the house. Boba Fett’s wife.

An unassuming woman, she was kind and gentle, slightly out of place among dangerous and somewhat violent bounty hunters and crime families that frequented the upper halls. She spent most of her days working on fixing the lower levels of the run down palace. She kept to herself, with the notable exceptions of her husband and his loyal bodyguard, Fennec Shand. The rule seemed to be, if she spoke to you, answer respectfully and do as she asks. But if you bother her, get in her way, or insult her... there would be hell to pay. 

“W-what happened to the last guy?” Rhys shifted nervously on his feet. He honestly hadn’t considered why there was a position available when he accepted the job. 

“He barred the lady from entering the throne room when the boss had guests. He didn’t know the guests were there by her request, but that doesn’t make him any less dead right now” Tems told him, looking uncomfortable at the memory. 

“Well we just won’t wake up the lady then” Rhys said “we’ll be really quiet. We’ll only wake up the boss, alright?” 

Tems still wasn’t convinced “Do we both have to go in there?” 

“You’re a fuckin’ coward,” Rhys threw up his hands in exasperation “every second we wait to go in there, the more angry he’ll be that we waited. I’m going in there, you can stand out here like a little bitch if you want to,”

Tems was tempted to throw a punch, this guy had no idea just how dangerous Boba Fett really is, or how scary he could be right after waking up. Nonetheless, he followed as his partner made for the door again. 

The heavy door swung open silently, surprising given how massive it was. The room was dark, lit dimly by the silvery light of the moon coming through the small window high up on the wall. Against the far wall, was an enormous bed where both guards could see their employer sleeping soundly with his wife tucked securely to his bare chest. 

Tems wanted to die. Every step he took deeper into these chambers felt like a step closer to a painful demise. While Rhys was excited, he had never seen any of the residential chambers of the palace. And this one was huge. 

Rhys creeped up to Boba’s side of the bed, while Tems stood awkwardly by the entrance to the chambers. As Rhys approached, reaching out to shake the bosses shoulder, Tems seriously considered making a run for it. Rhys made contact, giving the large scarred shoulder a few good shakes. 

“Sir?” Rhys attempted to whisper. Boba made no movement towards wakefulness, he just continued softly snoring. 

Your eyes flew open and a fearful gasp left your body. You backed up, trying to put distance between yourself and the supposed intruder. 

“Oh my god. No no no no. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry ma’am,” Rhys backed away, hands raised. Tems practically blacked out but stayed frozen in place. 

I’m gonna fuckin die, and it’s all that idiots fault  he thought 

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and you recognized the young guard. You drew the covers up to cover yourself, you felt exposed in your thin nightgown. 

“What are you doing here? These are private rooms” you whispered harshly 

“I-I- I have orders,” Rhys stammered, knees knocking together in fear “To-to get the boss if” Rhys lost his voice. He could not seem to get the words to come out of his mouth 

“Get out,” you whisper “Go back out there and do not move. I will be there shortly,” 

Your tone was authoritative and stern, leaving no room for questioning. Rhys practically sprinted out of the room, dragging a paralyzed Tems with him. The door slammed shut behind them, making them both cringe. 

Tems doubled over, placing his hands on his knees and heaving with labored breath. “Oh by the maker... we’re gonna die. We’re gonna fucking die. I’m gonna be sick. We’re gonna die” 

Rhys was pacing back and forth, hands gripping and pulling his own hair. “Shit shit shit shit shit.... you were right. We’re gonna die,” 

The large door swung open once more, and shut again firmly. Both men snapped their heads towards the direction of the sound of the door closing, awaiting the blaster blot that would surely end their lives. But it didn’t not come. Instead, there you stood, in a long robe tired securely about your waist, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Alright, what’s all this about then?” You asked tiredly. Neither man spoke a word, staring blankly at you. You grew annoyed, and tapped your foot impatiently. 

“Oh for heavens sake!” You exclaimed “He sleeps like the dead when he’s had a glass of wine before bed. He won’t be coming out here to throw you in the rankor pit anytime soon, but if one of you doesn’t speak up I most certainly will,” 

“The Mand’alor hailed for the boss,” Tems said quickly. 

“And the alarm on the bosses ship tripped,” Rhys choked out 

“And a scavenger was caught at the southern entrance trying to get in,” Tems added. You blinked at them in surprise. 

“That’s a lot of information to take in,” you said “Okay gentleman, first things first, has the scavenger been dealt with?”  

“Yes,” Rhys piped up

“Yes ma’am,” Tems avoided your gaze, staring meekly at his own two feet. 

“Lovely, and the ship. What tripped the alarm?” You asked, feeling slightly less angry by being awoken. If anything you felt a little bad for these two. 

“We’re not sure ma’am. The guards in the landing bay couldn’t find anything wrong with the ship, and couldn’t find any intruders,” Rhys said, taking Tems’ cue to use a respectful title when speaking to you 

“So then it can wait until morning for a follow up,” you noted “and the Mand’alor? Did he give a particular reason why he was hailing my husband?” 

“No ma’am, but he said it was important,” Tems supplied 

“Hmm, Djarin is a bit of a drama queen. But if he isn’t hailing repeatedly, or flying here himself, then I’m sure it can also wait until morning,” you mused. Rhys and Tems were visibly shaking with anxiety. 

“Well, if that’s all settled then I would love to back to bed. Goodnight gentleman,” you said turning to go. 

“My lady, I’m sorry” Rhys blurted out. You turned back to look at him. 

“For doing your job?” You asked 

“For disturbing you. For breaking the bosses cardinal rule,” he said “I should have listened to my partner. I shouldn’t have gone into your private chambers,” 

“Your job is to follow the orders you have been given. Protect this palace. And report when circumstances deem it necessary, no matter the time of day,” you stated evenly “you’ve done well. And your loyalty will not go unnoticed by my husband,” 

“Please don’t tell him,” Tems said “please don’t tell him it was us,” 

You cocked an eyebrow at him “I won’t if you truly do not want me to, but tell me why,” 

“My lady if the boss knew we came into your chambers, disrupted your sleep...” Tems shook his head “please don’t tell him my lady, I beg you” 

You heart softened, you forget sometimes how truly frightening your husband could be. And these men were genuinely afraid of his wrath. You nod gently. “You have my word,” 

“Gentleman,” you nodded quietly, slipping back through the door. 

The with door now shut, a heavy silence settled over the palace. Tems still felt violently ill, and Rhys was quite sure the boss would kick down the door any second despite the reassurances of his wife. 

“Rhys?” Tems said 

“Yeah?”

“I fucking hate you,”

[yostresswritinggirl]

100 Followers Special

(And how to participate) you don't need to be a follower to vote ack

~yostresswritinggirl

Hello AGAIN, with your back to back followers special! Exiled here, very tired, as I just closed the requests box for our 50 followers special. I asked for some recommendations and no one helped me so this is what I came up with!

Granted, it's nothing that special, I literally just dumped my notes into this so—

Please make sure to follow the guidelines and read this thoroughly to properly participate!

1. You will be given a long list of fic prompts specific to a character that I've come up with for weeks on end, please don't steal, as I will remove them after this event is done!

2. Voting! You now have the power to influence my writing schedule haha- what you need to do: is to pick three prompts from the list and send it to me; either through reblog tag, a reply, or in my ask box (not anon so we can count fairly, will not publish these answers tho so worry not)! Not in messages tho! It should be in this format:

1. Character - prompt or prompt title

2. Character - prompt or prompt title

3. Character - prompt or prompt title

example:

1. Albedo - Citrinitas

2. Zhongli - Braid

3. Xingqui - Author!Reader

The top three most voted prompt and character will be the next fics I'll publish after I'm done with the current reqs. Speaking of: Voting ends when I finish the current reqs. You'll know it's done once the counter in my blog desc reaches 12/12.

3. In addition to the three prompts, you also get to add your own prompt to it! My prompts list does not include ALL the characters that's why I wanted to give you this option too! Add a fourth number and specify a character, a prompt/idea, and the format of the fic! Format it this way:

4. Character - Prompt/Idea (Format)

4. Kaeya - What's under that eyepatch? (Scenario)

After I pooled the answers, I'll randomly pick between the bonus answers and write them last! So give it your best shot!

4. Tags-list! I thought this would be necessary for this kind of a whim special, so if you wanna be tagged, just put Tag Me! at the end of your vote. Please make sure that you're actually able to be tagged because I just tried and some users are not in my orbit huhu, look here

5. If a pocket watch/series prompt gets chosen, I will only post the first chapter, not the whole damn fic pls. Have mercy,,,

I will post a counter of the top three in my blog description and will be updated as frequently as possible. Any questions, please direct to this post or my dms <3

Without further ado, here is your choice list!

Xingqui - "My liege, would you care to accompany me on my reading break? I've picked up a romance novel and it reminded me of us."

-> Author!Reader: You met Xingqui at Wanwen Bookhouse when delivering a batch of your newly-published book. But as a ghost writer, no one knew it was you that authored such books. Safe to say it was cute watching the noble bookworm fanboy about you in front of you. [FLUFF] [FIC]

-> Headcanons with a reader older than Xingqui who's a close family friend of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. Fascinated after meeting you in a party, the noble boy aspires to become the best man for you despite the difference, promising to be the best suitable partner for you in the future. [FLUFF] [HEADCANON SCENARIO]

Childe - "Hey there, comrade! What a coincidence that we had a break at the same time, care to accompany me for a walk? I promise I won’t lead you to a fight haha... hey, don’t look at me like that!”

-> Antinomy -  The 10th Harbinger (You) and the little shit they had to mentor (Childe), this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers. [FLANGST] [ONESHOT]

Albedo - "Ah, it's you. I've heard of fleeting rumors that you've been pestering a certain someone just to see me. Next time, just come directly to me, I wouldn't mind the assertiveness."

-> Refer to these three as well: Albedo Fic Ideas [FLUFF/FLANGST/FLANGST] [ONESHOT/ONESHOT/SERIES]

-> “You’re Enough”: A year into being the new Chief Alchemist of Mond, Albedo finds himself holed up in his room in the dead of night, haunted as he continuously comes out empty on his research to bring his master back, feeling inadequate. So you reminded him of what he’s capable of. [FLUFF?] [ONESHOT INSPIRED BY You Are Enough - Sleeping At Last]

-> Under the Artificial Sky: Michaelangelo Scenario focused on Albedo’s sketching aspect. Grand Master Varka and Acting Grand Master Jean figured Albedo needed a break and a change of scenery, and sent him off under the guise of a commission in Liyue. What he didn’t expect was another artist from Fontaine accompanying him in this big project.(Albedo and Reader are tasked to paint the new Jade Chamber within 7 days) [FLUFF] [SERIES - 7 CHAPTERS]

-> Albedo SMUT: I had this idea while laying wide awake at 3 AM. The alchemist had been trying all remedies to shake off the stress and fatigue in his system and they all seemed to fail, no amount of sketching or discoveries can pull him away from it. So when you offered a solution he hasn’t heard, he’d jump at it immediately. “You know, some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever.” “Intercourse? If it’s true, then please, I wish to have intercourse with you.” “Wha- wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!” “Convenient, I love you, anything else?” (Two virgin dumbasses do the thing to relieve stress) [SMUT] [ONESHOT]

Xiao - “I’ve taken care of every threat around this area, you can relax now, I made sure of that.”

-> What is it with you and Qingxin flowers? The Traveler had once heard of Xiao’s affinity for Qingxin flowers, and they’re flying companion boldly asked this lingering question to the adepti himself. His pupils dilate and sharpen before Paimon could finish her sentence. (An origin story about his favorite flower, and his favorite person) [SLIGHT FLANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> Just how harmful is adeptal energy to normal humans? You both found out in the worst way possible: silently, deadly. (Slight spoiler: you fucking die) [ANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> Nightmares Taste Horrible: He’s seen that look in your eyes and the ancient soul within it; you’ve lived long ago, and the only thing your soul carried now was the nightmares of a macabre timeline. Was it him or was it demons that brought you that fear? No matter, he’ll protect you even from yourself. (eating the nightmare of a dead soul reincarnated to you) [FLANGST?] [ONESHOT]

-> Go for the throat: The seal that marked you had made it all too late for him to remedy. Bleeding eyes, growing fangs, it’s just another demon to vanquish just like he’s done for centuries. What makes it different was it was sealed in you. (Inspired from Melanie Martinez’s song uhu) [ANGST] [ONESHOT]

Zhongli - “Mortals are capable creatures that evolve and adapt for means of survival, but they advance in ways that changes the world around them. This retirement, may be harder to me than it is to them.”

 -> “In human history, there’s a certain noble and powerful connotation to rulers who braid their hair.” Convince to braid his hair using some historical braid trivia; that long hair behind his back should not be ignored for any longer. [PURE FLUFF] [DRABBLE]

-> History has its eyes on you: A traveling theatre hailing from the land of entertainment finds its way to Liyue for their last caravan. A certain Geo Vision man seems to resonate with your newest script: fighting and protecting your land, building up its nation, before being forced to let go of it. He resonates maybe a little too much. (Musical!Reader with heavy references to Hamilton hehe) [FLUFF] [ONESHOT]

Venti - "Can you hear the symphonies of the wind as it sings to you? That's me, guiding you and protecting you! Whenever you hear it, know that you're safe and sound under my protection!"

-> the one the bard once loved: like actual bard, you are the archer or smth, loved by Venti and Barbatos. Yandere!Barbatos undertones, very unhealthy relationship. This hurts the kokoro. [PURE ANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> The Caravan: (related to the Zhongli and Musical!Reader up there) Your caravan stops at Mondstadt for a whole week before it reaches its final destination. This new fanfare pulled in a peculiar bard who now wants to tag along for the fun of it. "I have no more responsibilities in this free land!" Just what kind of responsibilities does a broke bard have in the first place? [FLUFF] [ONESHOT/HEADCANON]

Diluc - "You look weary, and you still managed to pull yourself here. Here, a fresh and cold glass, on the house. A relieved smile should be enough payment."

-> Abandoned by The Altar: A timeline oriented story focused on your once perfect childhood relationship as Diluc's bride to be, soon becoming estranged after the death of his father and his neglect. You only wish now that he looks at you the same way he did when you heard you were supposed to be together forever when you were young. [FLANFF] (The ending gets better pls; Inspired by Still Into You - Paramore) [ONESHOT]

-> There are No Laws Against Homelessness in Mondstadt: My favorite title out of all of this ahahhaa- who says adventurers can't be broke? You're the living embodiment of that. (Good boi Diluc with a broke ass reader) [FLUFF] (Warning: homelessness) [ONESHOT]

Scaramouche - "Let's go already, the sun is setting and we're nowhere near our destination. If you wanted to linger just to spend more time with me, I would have indulged you behind closed doors anyways."

-> Scaramouche Finally Does the Fandango: Have you ever wondered how Scaramouche is like working with other people? His first assignment was to accompany you in your main region and he sees you in your natural habitat, entranced. [I dunno how to tag this, NORMAL?] [ONESHOT/SHORT]

-> Skincare bitch, how I headcanon Scaramouche as someone actually conscious and always tending to their skin. Look at that smooth skin, cute cheeks, let me pinch, eyeliner glory— In which case, that hat has more purpose than being a frisbee. (May or may not include reader. (based from a reblog convo with chels-void) [GOOD VIBES] [HEADCANONS]

-> Once Supreme: Before Scaramouche, there was someone else higher than him. Before Balladeer there was just a young man fighting for his beliefs and her Majesty. Before Mondstadt, his smile wasn't just for deception. "Someday, someone would take advantage of that smile, Scaramouche. It's not appropriate in this work environment." The day you break a man. (Harbinger!Reader again, and lots of HCs for Scaramouche, same format as Antinomy) [I also do not know how to call this, eventual ANGST] [ONESHOT]

Kaeya - "What are you doing out here in the dead of night? Citizens like you should be cozied up in bed and leaving the patrols to us Knights. Come, I'll accompany you back home."

-> Honey Whiskey: A mysterious band of dancers from Sumeru visits Mondstadt and its taverns to offer a night of alluring dances. What was supposed to be a night of drinking for Kaeya and his troops ended up becoming a tipsy surprise mission when the main dancer steps down from the stage— and ignores him?! How scandalous! (Slightly suggestive themes/You're a bad guy) [COOL?] [ONESHOT] [slightly inspired by song with the same name]

General:

-> A Musical!Reader but with a scenario with every other character, most probably headcanons master post.

-> Genshin Food prompts: From that one post, I ended up making a whole storyline of oneshots related to their special dishes. Oneshots connected to a bigger picture. By impulse you've ended up leaving your normal life behind to pursue your cooking career, starting from Mondstadt, to learn all the cuisines to establish the first ever international restaurant. With the implications of magic and peculiar customers, your simple dream turns into a harder goal. [GOOD SHIT] [SERIES] [CANON-COMPLIANT]

-> God of Time!Reader that hails from Fontaine. Do you wish to know more about their origins and their purpose in this world? [CANON-COMPLIANT] [HEADCANONS] (General since it deals with all the characters/interactions)

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Tagslist-for-my-thirsty-homies:

[theladyofdeath]

The Ranch {10}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: enjoy!

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian threw open the closet in the bedroom of his cabin. Sure, he’d spent quite a bit of time on minuscule dates and hanging out at the bar through the years, but it had been a while since he’d taken a woman out on a proper date.

And here he was, about to take Nesta, a fucking gourmet chef, to dinner. With an hour before he was supposed to “pick her up”, he still had no idea where they were going. He’d run through the list of restaurants in their little town a hundred times through his head as he went through his work that day, but none of them seemed good enough.

What also didn’t seem good enough were the shirts he was staring at. Maybe he’d just stay in what he was already wearing - the towel around his waist. She seemed to prefer him in such, anyways, considering the night they had spent together the day before.

And what a damn fantastic night it had been.

No, Cassian wanted their date to be perfect.

Once again, he stared at the line of shirts hanging in his closet.

He groaned and dragged his hand down his face before he walked across the room and texted Elain.

You busy?

He waited a minute, no reply to his text, and he was both impatient and short on time.

So he called her.

“You couldn’t even wait for me to text you back and tell you that I’m not busy?” Her voice was full of laughter as she answered the phone.

“Sort of in a rush and also freaking out,” he said, beginning to pace.

She was instantly on red alert. “What? Why? Are you okay?”

He shook his head, realizing he’d worried her for no reason. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m taking your sister out on a date tonight and I have no idea what to wear.”

He was met with silence on the other line.

“Elain?”

“I’m here, I’m...trying to make sense of what you just said.” She stuttered a second. “You said you’re taking Nesta on a date tonight?”

“Yes.”

“My sister, Nesta?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, with no chill. “And I’m in a hurry.”

“Taking Nesta out makes you cranky,” Elain muttered. “Okay, I’m here, what is it you need?”

“I don’t know what to wear.”

Another stretch of silence. 

Cassian sighed, impatiently. “Elain.”

“Sorry,” she said, tone laced with laughter. “I just...You’re worried about what you’re going to wear?”

“Everything I have looks the same,” he mumbled. 

“Then wear one of your fifty plaid shirts,” she laughed. “And your one pair of nice jeans.”

“Really?” He asked, grabbing one of his more expensive shirts from the closet. “But I wear this every day-.”

“She’s seen you everyday and has she ever had a problem with it?” she interrupted.

“I- No,” he admitted. “What kind of food does she like? I asked her to dinner and then I realized that she’s a chef and that nothing around here would be up to her standards.”

Elain paused, but finally said, “Do you trust me?”

Cassian hesitated, unable to hide the question in his voice. “Usually?”

She chuckled. “I’m going to send you an address. Don’t look it up, just trust me, okay?”

He blinked. Well, it was a better idea than he had. “Okay, sure. Yeah, I won’t look it up.”

Elain squealed. “Yay! Alright, stand by. I’ll text it to you now.”

Cassian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Lainy, you have no idea how grateful I am.”

He could tell she was being genuine when she said, “Anything I can do to help! You both deserve to be happy, to have someone to cherish you and treat you right.” She sighed. “How’d you convince her to finally go out with you?”

Cassian debated on beating around the bush, but knew their families would find out anyways. “We, uh, sort of hooked up last night.”

Not to his surprise, he was met with more silence.

This time, Cassian waited it out. He put his phone on speaker then dropped his towel.

“And by hooked up, you mean…”

“Sex?” Cassian supplied, pulling on his boxers. “Yeah, and it was-.”

“I don’t wanna know.” The words rushed out of Elain so quickly that Cassian knew her cheeks were turning pink.

Cassian chuckled. “Fine. But, it was nice.”

“Were you drunk?” Elain asked, hesitantly.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “No. And she was still there when I woke up this morning, so.”

“Wow, I-.” She paused and repeated, “Wow. You know you’re supposed to take her out before you sleep with her, right?”

“Oh, ha ha.” He said, stepping into his jeans and buttoning them up. His voice was wistful at first. “I can’t help it, I just had to have her. And she actually made the move this time, not me.”

“I still don’t want to know,” she said, laughing. “Have fun, make good choices.”

“I’ll try,” he promised before saying goodbye and tossing the phone onto his bed. A moment later, when he was buttoning up his shirt, her text came through with an address.

He had no idea where she was sending them, and he was almost too scared to look it up, even if he hadn’t promised. After brushing out his hair with his fingers, he tied it at the back of his head and pulled on some socks, then his boots, and sighed.

“Beau!”

Beau came hurrying into the bedroom and up onto the bed, wagging his tail.

“How do I look?” Cassian asked, brows raised.

Beau barked.

“I assume that means you approve. Alright,” he said, grabbing his wallet off his nightstand and shoving it into his pocket. “I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t chew up anything...that’s not already chewed up, okay?”

He gave Beau a quick belly rub before strutting toward the front door.

He grabbed his keys and drove over to Nesta’s, hopping out and knocking on her door.

It only took a second for the door to swing open and Cassian’s mouth began to water.

The blue dress she wore was nothing fancy. On the contrary, it was its simplicity that let Nesta’s beauty shine.

Her golden-brown hair was in a simple braid, her brown sandals showing off her painted toenails. A soft pink, the same shade she wore on her full, beautiful lips.

She raised her brows as she said, “You’re staring. You’ve seen me every day for a while now. You can’t stare.”

“I can and I will,” he protested, meeting her eyes. “And it’s not the first time I’ve been caught staring at you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag off the hook by the door. “Where are you taking me?”

She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her as he hesitated. “Uh, it’s a surprise.” To us both.

She laughed quietly but said nothing more as they descended the stairs. Cassian opened the passenger side door and held out his hand to help her up, but she ignored it and hauled herself inside. With a chuckle, Cassian closed the door behind her and made his way behind the wheel before making his way down the long driveway.

Once they were out onto the main road, Cassian said, “You look beautiful.”

She didn’t look over at him as a small smile played on those pink lips. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad, either.”

Cassian grinned and turned on the radio, soft music filling the truck. He had already put the address into his GPS, but kept the volume down. He glanced at his phone every few seconds to make sure he was going the right way. The last thing he wanted was for Nesta to ask why he needed directions to know where they were going. What would his reply be? Oh, I called your sister because I was freaking the fuck out, thanks for asking, no big deal.

It was a conversation he wanted to avoid.

“What all did you do today?” he asked. “I didn’t see you around.”

“I was in the main house, prepping for painting,” she said, nodding. “That place needs to be updated before any guests start coming in. So, I taped, covered the carpets in plastic, and moved all furniture to the middle of the floors. Which, I should probably get a few new things there, too. I swear we grew up on shit made in the 1950s.”

Cassian snorted, then looked her direction. “You should’ve asked for help. I could’ve helped with the heavy lifting.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of doing things on my own, thank you.”

Cassian shook his head as his eyes went back on the road ahead of him. “Trust me, I know.”

Her amused grin was radiant. “What about you? Any fun ranch stuff today?”

“Ranch stuff?” He chuckled. At her own laughter, he continued, “Nothing too crazy. Mostly made sure there was enough hay left for the horses over the weekend. And checked on Barb. She’ll be having her calf any day.”

“What? Really?” She turned to him. “It’s way too late in the year for calves.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I’m keeping such a close eye on her.”

His phone lit up, alerting him that they were approaching their destination. He looked around and chuckled, shaking his head. Leave it to Elain.

He pulled into the little parking lot of an old diner. The sign that read The Starlight Diner was lit up in neon lights. He parked in front of the little building before looking at Nesta to see her reaction.

She was staring at the diner before she turned to him. “You talked to my sister, didn’t you?”

Cassian hesitated, and she laughed. “We used to go here all the time,” she said, shaking her head. “I used to love this place. I can’t tell you how many milkshakes I’ve downed within these walls. And the chili cheese fries? I mean, there’s nothing like them.” 

Cassian had been to the diner before, but not since high school. It used to be a popular hangout, one they went to after they won a big game or smoked too much pot under the bleachers.

“So you’re telling me,” Cassian began, turning off the engine. “That a woman who became a famous chef in Paris likes to go to ancient diners and drink milkshakes and eat chili-cheese fries?”

“Yes,” she said, simply. Then she smiled, softly. “Shall we?”

Cassian, completely speechless and a little bit turned on, opened his door and met her on her side of the truck as she got out. They went inside and sat at a table by the window. Old music was playing and waitresses were going about their business on roller skates. 

“So, I assume you already know what you want,” Cassian began, flipping open his menu. “And I assume it’s more than a milkshake and chili-cheese fries.”

Nesta was glancing around the restaurant, looking for someone or something, but she didn’t miss a beat when she answered. “Bacon cheeseburger, with extra pickles, chili-cheese fries, vanilla milkshake, with no cherry, and a water.”

He raised an eyebrow, and let his menu fall shut. “I know what I’m ordering.” She laughed and he felt like his heart was going to burst. The sound of her laughter was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. “So why no cherry? Are allergic, or what?”

She scrunched her nose as she moved the silverware around in front of her. “I used to drink the Shirley Temples made with the cheap grenadine. You know the one that’s pretty much just cherry snow-cone syrup?”

Their server came to the table at that moment and took their drink order. They both know what they wanted, but neither was in a rush. She promised to return with their waters and to get their food order in just a moment and they fell right back into conversation.

“Long story short, one night we went to dinner and I had four or five of them.” She laughed and shook her head. “Neither mom or dad noticed how many I’d had, which was awesome to me. I was only allowed to have two before I had to switch to water. When we got home, I got so, so sick. They freaked out because it was dark red and they thought I was bleeding internally.” She began laughing even harder. “Neither of them told me that was what they were worried about, and I wasn’t about to tell on myself. They took me to the hospital and I finally told one of the nurses. Nineteen years and a sixteen hundred dollar hospital bill later, and I hate cherry and cherry flavoring now.”

Cassian just stared at her, barely registering when the waitress came back and gave them their waters. And then he began howling.

The waitress looked at him like he was crazy and mumbled that she’d be back in just a minute for their orders.

“So you were a rebellious child,” Cassian said, laughter dying down but his smile remaining.

“Considering that’s the most rebellious thing I’d ever done, I’d say not,” Nesta said, chuckling. “No, Feyre was the rebellious one, which I’m sure you already know. Elain was the perfect one. And I….I don’t know. I was just there.”

“That’s impossible,” Cassian said. “Give yourself a little more credit.”

She shrugged, and a shadowy look crossed her face that had Cassian clearing his throat. “Well, you didn’t miss out on rebellion. Coming from someone who landed himself in the local jail fifteen times his senior year in high school, alone.”

That look in Nesta’s eyes faded as she shook her head, humored. “Fifteen times? In under a year?”

“Yeah, I swear at some point the cops just started following me when they were bored until I did something they could call me out on,” he laughed. It was a little town. The crime rate was low. “Shoplifting a few times. Mostly underage drinking. One time they caught me peeing into the dumpster behind the corner market. Which, I was drunk then, too….Actually, that night was rough.”

Nesta laughed as she rolled her eyes. “Good thing to know such a classy man has taken me to dinner.”

Cassian’s grin widened. “You live, you learn.”

Nesta nodded her agreement. “What about your parents? Weren’t they furious?”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he said, “Don’t know my dad. My mom died while I was in middle school, lived with Rhys and his mom after that. And, yes, she gave me hell every damn time. But, she always came to pick me up and break me out.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, but he was already waving her off.

“Don’t be,” he shrugged. “From what my mom told me of my dad, he wasn’t the greatest guy. Found out she was pregnant from one of his friends and skipped town. He was a bull rider, and he jumped on the rodeo tour and she never saw him again. And my mom…” he blew out a deep breath. “We should probably save my mom for a less depressing conversation.”

Nesta nodded, completely understanding.

“But Rhys’ mom was great,” he went on, taking a sip from his water. “I love that woman.”

The waitress came back and Nesta ordered.

Cassian said he’d have the same, but with a chocolate shake, then she was off.

“So,” Cassian went on, leaning his elbows on the table. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

Nesta took a moment to think. “After last night, I think you know everything there is to know.”

Cassian smirked. “About some things, maybe. But tell me something I don’t.”

Nesta chewed on her lip, mind going completely blank. Everything either seemed too personal or not personal enough.

“I can’t whistle,” She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know, this is one of the things I hate about dating. This whole interview process.”

“How about this,” he smiled. “Tell me about your favorite thing in the world.”

He was expecting her to start telling him about cooking, about how she’d ended up in Paris, Rome, London, all the places he’d seen when he did a quick google of her name. But she surprised him.

“Riding horseback,” she said, eyes bright. 

Cassian raised a brow. “Riding? That’s your favorite thing in the world?”

“Does that surprise you?” She asked, leaning back in the booth.

“Yeah, a little,” he confessed.

She stirred her water with her straw, watching the ice cubes spin around in her glass. “It was my one escape growing up. The one thing I could do that didn’t result in a sneer from my mother and a lecture about my future from my father.” She sighed. “I used to ride Phoenix for hours to just...get out of the house. Have you ever ridden back on the hills to the west of the property?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean the property that isn’t ours, that’s marked No Trespassing?”

Their waitress brought their milkshakes to the table. There was a bright red cherry on top of Nesta’s, but before she could say anything, Cassian snatched it up and popped it into his mouth. She rolled her eyes, thanked the waitress, and took a huge sip. Her eyes slipped closed instantly and she moaned quietly. “Oh my god, I can’t get a milkshake like this anywhere else.”

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, and when her tongue peeked out to get the little bit of melted ice cream left on her bottom lip, his eyes tracked the motion. They were dark, the shining hazel almost completely swallowed by his pupils.

Without a word, Cassian pulled something from between his teeth and dropped it on the table between them.

The stem from her stolen cherry was tied in a knot.

Nesta said, “That’s both hot and cheesy as hell.”

Cassian’s low laugh skittered across her skin. “You already know what my tongue can do, but I thought I’d give you a little reminder, just in case you somehow forgot already.”

Nesta swallowed. No, she definitely hadn’t forgotten what his perfect mouth could do, but she had forgotten how to speak, especially when he was looking at her the way he was.

He plucked the cherry from his own milkshake, eating the cherry - sans stem, this time - and motioned for Nesta to continue. “So, what about the land that we do not own, Miss I was never rebellious?”

His imitation of her was spot on.

Nesta pursed her lips and said, “Yeah, that land is ours.”

He dropped his spoon, splattering the table in chocolate ice cream droplets. “What?”

She took another drink of her milkshake, not moaning this time, thank the Cauldron, and nodded. “It’s only another few acres. I knew the previous owners. Armand and Colette Lavigne.” The way she said their names, with such familiarity and adoration, Cassian knew she must have spent a lot of time with them. “They were from the Bordeaux region of France. They moved here in their fifties to open a vineyard.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “They didn’t do any research and had no idea the soil here wasn’t good for wine. But they fell in love with the area. And they’re the ones who taught me to love cooking.” She smiled fondly, her eyes misting slightly. “I bought it when Colette passed a few years ago and Armand returned to Floirac. He didn’t want it to go to someone who would just sell it for profit and turn it into another apartment complex or a shopping mall. It's been my land for about four years, but I finally signed the deed to have it put in my name, rather than Armand’s, when I signed the ranch’s deeds.”

Cassian blinked, processing the information, slowly. Then he said, loudly enough to earn a scowl from the elderly couple two booths down, “What the fuck? I’ve been purposely avoiding that land, and now you’re telling me I should’ve been working it?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “No. Not yet, anyway. I haven’t decided  what I want to do with it yet.”

Cassian was slowly shaking his head. “I have a feeling you’re never going to stop surprising me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” She asked.

He smiled at her. “No, it isn’t.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Nesta finally asked, “Have you even tried your milkshake yet, or are you just going to keep stirring it?”

He pointed his sticky spoon at her and took a big sip through his straw. He pulled back, staring at the thick liquid. “That’s pretty damn good.”

“Pretty damn good?” She repeated, shaking her head. “It’s fucking delicious.”

“You’re fucking delicious,” he muttered, taking another drink from his straw.

Nesta’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, which only made Cassian's small smile turn into a wicked grin.

Before she could come up with a retort, a display of beautiful, greasy food was laid out before them. Burgers and chili-cheese fries.

As the waitress turned to leave, Nesta said, “Excuse me, but is Alis still here?”

“Oh, no, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she said, and Nesta nodded. “She’ll be back in for the morning shift tomorrow, though.”

“Okay, perfect. Thank you.”

The woman smiled warmly and left them to enjoy their burgers.

“Alis?” Cassian asked, eyeing the massive plate of food in front of him and its twin in front of Nesta, then her tiny form. There was no way she’d be able to eat everything in front of her.

Nesta already had a forkful of hot, cheesy fries and was diving in. She closed her eyes and made a contented noise. She took a drink of her water, setting it down before answering. “She owns the Starlight. I came here so much that she and I became pretty close. When I…” Ran away. “Left town, I stopped in for a cup of coffee, trying to talk myself out of leaving. Alis is the one who pushed me to follow my dreams. She even paid for my bus ticket out of town.”

“Really?” Cassian asked, popping a fry into his mouth. “She sounds nice.”

“She is,” Nesta agreed. “One of the best this town has to offer. Now, look away because I’m about to bite into this burger and it’s not going to be attractive whatsoever.”

Cassian didn’t look away and Nesta, eyes on his, took a massive bite out of her bacon cheese burger.

He blinked, and she covered her mouth as her eyes lit up at his expression.

“I can honestly say I’ve never been so attracted to you,” he said, taking his burger into his hands. Before he took a bite, he asked, “So, Alis is the one that pushed you out of town, huh?”

Nesta nodded, taking another bite and swallowing before saying, “If it wasn’t for her that day, I probably would have stayed here, ended back up with Tomas, and lived to regret every fucking day that followed. So, I am very grateful to Alis.”

Cassian hadn’t pressed Nesta anymore on the subject of Tomas, and he knew now wasn’t the time, no matter how many questions he had.

“Well, then I’m grateful to her too,” Cassian said, taking a bite so massive nearly half of his burger disappeared. He chewed before saying, “Although I’m pretty grateful you came back, too.”

Nesta took another bite of her own burger. “You’re just saying that because I’ll have sex with you,” she laughed and dove back into her fries.

Cassian’s eyes lit up in amusement. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a perk. But I think you’re going to be good for the b-n-b, for the ranch as a whole.” Nesta’s eyes softened and she smiled. Until he added, “And ‘I’ll have sex’ implies that we’ll be doing that again, right? That wasn’t a one and done?”

Nesta rolled her eyes, mouth full of food. A second later, she said, “I’ll have to think about it.”

Cassian had the audacity to look offended. “Ouch. Was I so bad?”

Nesta just grinned as she took another bite of her fries.

Cassian’s laughter filled the air as they finished their food. He paid, and then they made their way back into the truck.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said, as they pulled out of the parking lot. To his surprise, she had finished every last bite of her food and downed her milkshake. Even Cassian had left a few fries, claiming he couldn’t eat another bite.

“Anytime,” he said, meaning it.

“Um, home is the other direction,” she said, when he turned left onto the main road instead of right. 

“I know,” Cassian replied, shortly, and when it was obvious he wasn’t going to say anything more, Nesta shot him a look.

“Where are we going?” she asked, slowly.

Cassian just grinned, one hand on the wheel, the other sneaking over the middle console to hers.

The ride was comfortably quiet, the rumble of Cassian’s truck the only sound. Nesta didn’t mind though, not as he drove through the square, where people bustled about. Velaris was a city best enjoyed at night, and the people milling around every restaurant and park and store front proved it. She also didn’t mind the feel of his hand in hers, so the longer drive was fine by her.

Until they pulled into a parking lot.

“Why are we here?”

Cassian only grinned and hopped out of the truck, rounding the hood and helping Nesta down. “Don’t feel like a walk down memory lane?” They began to walk and, as casually as she could, she slipped her hand back into his. His fingers intertwined with hers and he glanced down at her. She was staring forward, refusing to look up at him, but he knew color was staining her cheeks. Could tell by the way the tips of her ears were a darker shade of pink than normal. “I thought, rather than talk about who we are, cause that always sucks and no one likes doing it-.” He was rambling and Nesta giggled. He laughed at himself and cleared his throat. “Right. What I was trying to say, is that talking about who you are sucks. But talking about who you used to be? I don’t know, for me, it’s always been easier.” Nesta looked up at him, but he shrugged and carried on. “Even if I wasn’t always proud of who I was, I can at least learn something from who I’ve been.”

“Fair enough,” she said, quietly, as he led the way.

They were at their old high school, but Cassian didn’t walk toward the building, which was undoubtedly locked. Instead, he took her to the football field, where Nesta could count on one hand how many times she had been there through the four years she had spent at Velaris High.

“You played football?” She asked, as they walked through the gates. 

“I did,” Cassian confirmed, as they walked onto the green field. Velaris Knights was painted into the end zones. “Yeah, I tackled a lot of guys on these fields. And, over there,” he pointed to the bleachers, “is where I used to get high and drunk, referring back to the jail conversation we had earlier tonight.”

Nesta laughed as she looked around. She had never been on the field before. Everything looked different from standing between the bleachers.

“You came to games, right?” He asked, gazing around the field. The lights were on, thanks to the evening practice that had only ended an hour or two before. The lights ran on a timer, just like they had when he played on this field. They had until just before ten-thirty before the lights would go out.

Nesta shook her head. “I was never a big fan of school events. I always preferred to stay home and read or more often than not, I was with Tomas. Going to some roping.”

There he was again, taunting Cassian from the past. But again, he wouldn’t bring up Tomas tonight. “Wasn’t Elain a cheerleader? Didn’t you come to at least support her?”

She shrugged. “Come cheer on the cheerleader? No, and she knew I hated it. She would actually convince Feyre to go to the games so I could have an hour or two of silence.”

Cassian snorted. “Well, I lived on this field. And I kicked ass. While you were being a nerd, apparently.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I was not a nerd, asshole.”

Cassian held his hands up in surrender. “I never said it was a bad thing.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh as she shook her head. “Looking back, I would’ve done some things differently. Maybe not the staying home with a book, but with the whole Tomas business.”

Cassian stayed silent. He wanted so badly to ask, but knew he shouldn’t. They were having such a good time. He didn’t want to ruin it.

So, instead, Cassian said, “I wish I would’ve known you then.”

She chuckled but sat down when they reached the center of the field. “No, I don’t think you do.”

He followed suit, sitting down in the turf leaning back on his hands. “Why not?”

“It was true, what you said before. I constantly had a stick up my ass.” She laughed and continued. “And I was a bitch.”

Cassian laughed, but he didn’t correct her. “You were cute, though. I’m convinced I would have loosened you up.”

Nesta shook her head, unable to stop her smile from spreading. “I’ll let you think that.”

Cassian looked over at her, at the way her golden-brown hair shone in the lights. She was a beauty, and yes, she had been cute in high school, but now she was stunning, in her little blue dress and her simple braid.

“You’re staring again,” she mumbled.

“Let me stare,” he pleaded, eyes soft.

She blushed and he leaned over, tilting her chin up and softly brushing his lips against hers. When he pulled away, he whispered, “Please tell me I can do that whenever I want now.”

Nesta thoughtfully tapped her chin and said, “Whenever? I don’t know about that.”

“Damn you, woman,” he laughed and kissed her again, laying down on top of her.

She chuckled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. “We’re not kids anymore, Cassian, we can’t fuck on the football field. Just because you like being tossed in jail doesn’t mean that I do.”

He grinned, resting his elbows in the grass on both sides of her face. “I’ll be nice, I promise.”

She kissed him then, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth. “Good.”

“Until you did that…” he muttered, kissing her again, pressing his body down against hers as he did so.

She let his hands roam her body, let him grab and squeeze and pull. He tugged on her hair lightly, tilting her chin up and exposing her neck. He nuzzled his face into it, and lightly ran his tongue along the long column of her throat. He pressed soft kisses along her jaw until he returned once more to her lips.

Pulling back to look at her, her lips swollen from his bruising kisses and her hair a messy halo around her head on the grass, Cassian brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. He breathed, “You are so damn beautiful.” She blushed and tried to turn from his gaze. “No,” he whispered, gripping her chin so she couldn’t look away. “Why do you do that? Why won’t you let me tell you how beautiful you are?” He asked, quietly.

“Taking compliments isn’t one of my strengths,” she said, running her hands down his arms, feeling his muscles beneath the fabric.

“Well make it one,” he mumbled, “because I’m not going to stop. I’m going to tell you how beautiful you are, always, because it’s the truth.”

She shook her head, slowly, but didn’t say anything else. She simply grabbed him by the face and brought his lips to hers.

After a few minutes of languid kisses, and some strong, strong willpower, Cassian rolled over and laid on his back, staring up at the sky. He tucked a hand behind his head and the other found Nesta’s next to him. His thumb rubbed small circles on the back of her hand and he gazed up at the stars.

It was quiet for a few minutes, neither one of them wanting to disturb the stillness. But eventually, Nesta asked, “You about ready to head home?”

He turned his head and looked at her, those stormy eyes seeing every part of him. “Just a minute. It’s almost time.”

Her brow furrowed. “For what?”

He smiled, looking back to the sky. “You’ll see.”

They laid there in silence, Nesta loving the feeling of his hand in hers.

The lights shut off, plunging the field into darkness. Nesta started, looking around, wondering if they needed to go, to get back to the truck, before someone-.

“Look,” he breathed, still staring upwards.

Nesta gazed toward the sky. Her breath caught in her throat.

The lights above them, surrounding the field, had gone off, and the starlight above them burned brightly, lighting up the night sky.

There were no trees, no nothing to block the view of the series of shooting stars that shot across the speckled darkness.

Only in Velaris.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. She had always known her hometown was famous for its starlight, had always snuck a glance or two up at the night sky throughout her childhood, but had never taken a moment to simply watch, to wait, to explore with her eyes the beauty of creation.

“It is,” Cassian agreed, softly. He wasn’t only talking about the night sky. “I used to lay out here all the time, in high school. Captivated by it.”

“Were you high?” Nesta asked, quietly, jabbing him in the ribs.

Cassian laughed, breathlessly. “Sometimes.”

She glanced over at him, but he didn’t notice. He was entranced by the wonder before him, by the sheer enormity of the sight above him.

“You love this town,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.

He nodded and looked over at her. “I do. It’s not much, but it’s...home. I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else.” He paused. “Well, except on the road, but that didn’t exactly pan out.”

“Why not?” She asked, before she could stop herself.

Cassian hesitated. “It’s a long story.”

“Is it?” She asked. “Or is this one of those times you say it’s a long story because you don’t want to tell the story.”

Cassian laughed, glancing sideways at her. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

“Well,” she said, smiling softly. “I have time.”

He tried not to let it sound harsh when he said, “Another time.” He turned and laid on his side, brushing the loose hair framing her face behind her ear.

He could see the stubbornness, could see that Nesta wanted to push. But she nodded and leaned forward to press her lips against his.

After a soft smile, he climbed to his feet and  held out a hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get home.”

She took his hand, happily, and let him walk her back to the truck. The ride back to the ranch was quiet, but not uncomfortable. He caught her looking at him from time to time, and every time he caught her, that look of annoyance from being caught captured her face.

When Cassian pulled up to her little house, he turned off the engine and got out, walking her up to the porch. They stood, hand in hand. He looked down at her and kissed her, softly. “Is this the part where you invite me inside?”

She made a show of acting like she was thinking, and took a step back. “I don’t know, this was only our first date…” She opened the door and took another step back until she was inside. “I’m not that type of girl.”

There was a playful glint in Cassian’s eye and he stepped forward, bracing an arm on the door frame. “I don’t know what type of girl you’re talking about.”

She chuckled and said, “Goodnight, Cassian.”

The smirk on his face faltered and she shut the door in his face.

He took a step back and blinked. “Wha- Are you kidding me?”

The door swung open just a few seconds later and Nesta stood inside, still laughing. She grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him over the threshold, her lips immediately meeting his.

[nikkoliferous]

Phase One: Thor

Since I was looking up my past live-blog of the novel and realising how annoying and repetitive reading through it all is because of my having structured it as a bunch of reblogs, I’ve decided to organize it all into one long-ass post instead. In case anyone else wants to read it in the future. Or in case I decide to re-read it. Because I’m hilarious. 😅

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO

My Hilarious Yet Wrathful Overview Of Phase One: Thor, Redux

—

If your son who’s to become king requires a babysitter to not screw it all up and also the idea of him being king is stressful enough to put you into a coma, maybe, uh… reconsider doing that? Just a thought.

But you see here why Odin was so deadset on Thor becoming king, despite him being ill-suited for the role. It’s not about what’s best for Asgard; it’s about personal legacy. Thor is Odin’s mini me, and Loki is very much not. There are places within the text where Odin laments Thor “lacking his father’s wisdom” (he’s definitely inherited your humility, though, Odin!), but he hopes for Thor to grow into a “wise king” like himself. Whereas he holds no such illusions (lol, pun) that Loki will ever take after him.

now with tag commentary! #this scene is in the script and both novelizations #(though in reading this novel seems to just be a more complete version of the junior novel? #idk i'm confused because they're supposedly written by different authors but so far the text is identical) #and it drives me insane each time i read it

“Haha, I’m a warmongering piece of shit, isn’t it funny?”

I know, I know. I try to cut Asgard some slack for being such a militaristic culture because social changes happen slowly and when you live for thousands of years per generation, it makes sense that your views on things like war would be regressive. The text says Odin has ruled Asgard for tens of thousands of years (so much for taking Loki’s “give or take 5,000 years” line literally; sure, the Odinsleep would have extended Odin’s lifespan, but by that much? Idk).

Still, fuck Odin. Especially since he’ll eventually try to shame Loki for doing the same thing he’s fucking boasting about here. And on a much smaller scale too.

…is it, though?

I actually think Loki’s relationship with being the centre of attention is really interesting in its complexity and we don’t discuss it enough. I’ve said this before, but he strikes me as the sort of person who craves attention but also wouldn’t really know what to do with it if he had it. He craves it as a result of neglect, because he’s never been shown recognition or validation. This is why he seems to revel in it in Stuttgart, even in (or maybe especially in?) his brainwashed state. But he also frequently comes across as pretty introverted and has horrible self-esteem, so I think on another level, sustained, genuine attention would make him feel kind of uncomfortable. Loki seems to believe that in order to be loved or respected, he has to literally be Thor, though. And Thor has always been the centre of attention, so for Loki, attention is synonymous with respect.

I find Loki’s relationship with wanting attention especially fascinating because I too both crave and fear it. As a borderline, I need it. When no one is paying attention to me, I lose my sense of identity. I feel as though I literally cease to exist. It’s excruciatingly painful. And yet, I have no authentic sense of self; I’m just a chameleon, and the closer people get to me, the more likely it is they’ll see behind my mask. They’ll realise it’s all a show and that I’m actually no one. And then they’ll leave. I can’t help wondering if that’s how Loki feels sometimes too.

Wait, what? You mean goat. His horns are shaped like a goat’s. This is a ram: 

This is a goat:

This is Loki:

Do you see now? They’re like a goat. Not a ram. Not a cow. A GOAT.

This book was written before Ragnarok was a thing, so it may be unfair to connect the two, but it still seems worth noting that it was Thor who reduced Loki to being no more than a trickster to begin with. “You could be more,” my ass. Loki’s problem has never been that he was one-dimensional; it was always that the people in his life, including Thor, refused to see any other dimensions to him. Which makes those words particularly cruel—as if they aren’t cruel enough already, what with the physical torture and all. 

Always happy to have cause to point out that

Loki was on Thor clean-up duty their whole lives; he certainly was not trying to kill Thor.

People like to point to Loki’s attempted genocide of the Jötnar and attempted(-ish? lol) conquest of Earth as proof that he’s some kind of violent maniac. But in a little place I like to call reality, Loki was historically far less aggressive and bloodthirsty than his peers.

Question: why is one conqueror evil and the other is righteously entitled to ruling over the Nine Realms?

Asgardian exceptionalism FTW

I can’t even begin to imagine what would lead you to expect such a thing, Odin. 😂

Uh, ‘cause it is?? And also their planet is MELTING without it??

This is all only within the first two chapters, btw. Lmao

—

—

—

“Looking for answers,” my foot.

YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN’T YOU??

#i mean unless you knew heimdall #he only commits treason on days that end in y

—

—

What’d I say? Thor clean-up dutyyyyy 

Just wanna remind everyone that this 

is why he’s smiling during this scene 

because it makes me laugh every time. 😂 

—

My heart breaks every time I remember that second excerpt because literally ALL OF IT happened to him when he survived falling through the wormhole. My poor boy. 😭

But also of note… Loki gets cold (and also does not like being cold). This interests me because 1) as many are aware, the prevalent headcanon that Loki has a low body temperature irritates me and 2) it possibly(?) lends weight to the theory that he may not be fully Jötun, whether by virtue of his birth or Odin’s spell.

Haha, look at this Feminist Icon™ trying to take credit for his female friend’s accomplishments! Truly inspiring. 

#for some reason the ragnarok lovers have somehow decided that thor is both a feminist and lesbian icon #whatever that means 🤷‍♀️ #and i'm still trying very hard to figure out why #is it literally just because he *says* he respects women or whatever in that dumb rambly conversation with valkyrie?

Ooh… you were so close to getting the point, Volstagg. So close. Take your tongue off Odin’s boot for just a couple minutes longer.

Also, the author just forgot the name of the Casket. How did this book get published? 😂

JUST LOOKING FOR ANSWERS, HUH?

Because fuck Loki, amirite? He, uh… he’s a prince too, you know.

Also… Fandral, you dweeb 😂

…am I reading too much into this, or did Odin just literally forget that Loki exists?

On the other hand, the author also seemed to forget Loki existed for most of this chapter, so who knows. 🤷‍♀️

lmao @ Jane immediately trying to convince herself she’s too rational to be attracted to a stranger 

Honestly, though, big mood. 

Just your periodic reminder that Thor’s sycophantic friends KNEW Loki was right and decided to throw him under the bus anyway. 

Just as I’ve always said: That was it. That was their ENTIRE rationale. That Loki *could* have done it, therefore he must have. Please tell me these people have nothing to do with Asgard’s justice system.

…lol, jk, Asgard has no justice system.

Ok, first of all, no.

Second: thank you, Fandral. You’re a self-absorbed cad, but also evidently Thor’s least stupid friend.

Thirdly, how…? First, it was, “Loki arranged all this because he’s jealous of Thor.” Now they’ve suddenly jumped all the way to, “All of Asgard is in danger.” What exactly does Sif think Loki is planning? He’s gonna, what… assassinate Odin and then sell Asgard to the Jötnar?

—

Please stop hurting me.

Just so there’s no confusion: this one sentence explains everything Loki did for the rest of the movie. It explains how a person who has been historically non-aggressive suddenly transforms into a warmonger. To prove himself a real Asgardian, like his brother and father and grandfather. 

—

…why did Odin fall into the Odinsleep in two completely different scenes in this book? I’m super confused.

Also, we really need to talk about how cruel it is of Marvel to keep forcing Loki to prove his loyalty again and again and again when he’s been doing so almost literally since we met him. And by “we need to talk about it”, I mean I need to tie Kevin Feige and co. to a chair and spend a minimum of five hours lecturing them on how poorly they understand their own fucking character.

Let’s just be clear here: they’re talking about Loki. They’re saying Loki, their LEGITIMATE king, is an enemy of Asgard, based on evidence so paper-thin it’s practically invisible. Just… please, let that sink in. Take a moment to appreciate how utterly fucked up that is. 

I’m sorry (not really), but Thor was so much funnier before Ragnarok.

This scene has always kind of bugged me. If Odin removed Thor’s powers, how come he can still control the weather? Confusing.

So what exactly was Thor’s plan anyway, before he realised he couldn’t lift Mjölnir? He was just gonna call on Heimdall to help him commit treason AGAIN, show up on Asgard against the expressed command of his king, and… Odin would just shrug and be like, “You got me, son! I guess I can’t keep you down. Welcome home!”?

…I mean, I guess that more or less is what happened in the end, but it’s hard to imagine it would have still gone down that way without all the stuff that happened with Loki. Idk.  

#look what i'm saying is... thor is not exactly a thinking person #no one on asgard is a thinking person #except loki but he's crazy now so he's also thinking somewhat poorly lol

Cool, Thor. Now imagine feeling that way for ONE THOUSAND YEARS and develop a little fucking empathy for your brother.

But you won’t.

You’ll brush off his feelings of worthlessness as “imagined slights”. 😒

Nice that somebody knows how the royal line of succession works, I guess… 

That sound you hear? Yeah, that’s just my heart breaking. NBD. 

First, they mislabelled it the Casket of Eternal Winters. Now it’s the Cask of Ancient Winters. Author must have been thirsty when they wrote this. Lol 

Look, not to nitpick, but this is not the recommended procedure when you see a storm that you don’t believe is of supernatural origin coming. I’m just saying. Lol 

Uh… ‘cause he is?? And your pals are committing treason AGAIN, Thor, so it technically is responding to a threat to Asgard. Just FYI.

Anyways, this is an important point that doesn’t get made often enough. People want to act like Loki illegally usurped the throne somehow, but even without the deleted scene that explicitly shows Frigga passing rulership to him (a scene which is, for some reason, entirely skipped over in this book, but whatever), understand this: Loki could not have controlled the Destroyer unless he was legitimately King of Asgard. The fact that he’s able to do so is irrefutable proof that his rulership is valid.

lmao you little shit

So… here’s my issue with this scene (and with Thor as a character): He always assumes that Loki’s acting out specifically to hurt him. That Loki’s entire life and thought process revolves around Thor. He does it in this scene, he does it in The Avengers… it’s just a chronic thing with Thor. Everything is viewed through the lens of Loki inexplicably hating him.

But that’s… just not accurate. Yes, Loki harbours a lot of jealousy towards Thor. But that’s not what’s happening in this scene. Loki is not trying to kill Thor here because he wants him dead; he’s doing it because Thor (and his friends) are getting in the way of Loki completing his ultimate goal. Loki tried to solve this problem non-violently, by lying about Odin being dead. It’s Thor’s friends who all but forced his hand by going behind his back and trying to bring Thor back to Asgard against Loki’s (and Odin’s!) direct orders.

For all the humility he’s learned in the past few days, this entire speech is still really all about Thor. About assuming that Loki’s doing this for personal reasons, because he holds a grudge against Thor for some unknown reason. This is implicit in his request to “take [my life] and end this.” It never even occurs to him that his friends are traitors to the Crown and Loki, as King of Asgard, is perhaps justified in pursuing them.

It also needs to be acknowledged that Thor’s apology here is hollow, even if it’s ultimately coming from his heart, because he has no idea what he’s apologising for. “Whatever I have done to wrong you” is not an apology. An apology addresses specific hurtful actions taken and commits to not repeating those mistakes in the future. Thor cannot commit to not repeating the hurtful things he’s done, because he doesn’t know what he’s done. Despite his best intentions, what Thor is doing here is actually kind of manipulative. He’s not addressing any substantive issue between the two of them; he’s just trying to talk Loki down. And it ultimately fails not because Loki doesn’t care or because he wants Thor dead, but because it doesn’t actually change anything.

Finally and only semi-relatedly, we should maybe at some point talk about the fact that Loki, who is stated to be a master tactician, has displayed a weird pattern of hardly ever being as lethal as he could be. He freezes Heimdall in place instead of killing him outright; he backhands Thor with the Destroyer instead of incinerating him; he, well… *gestures vaguely at almost the entirety of the first Avengers movie* Anytime the violence is even a little bit personal, he seems to hedge. Odd behaviour for somebody who’s supposedly super evil.

I’m sorry, I know I’ve pointed it out at least a hundred times before, but I just can’t encounter this scene in any form without taking a moment to appreciate how underrated and hilarious it is.

I also genuinely wonder how many Ragnarok stans who have accused me of having no sense of humour, have failed to laugh at moments like this one. Kinda feel like if you need to have the comedy spoonfed to you in the form of ass jokes, maybe you’re the one whose sense of humour is lacking. 🤷‍♀️

Let’s be super clear: this is not what happened. Loki did not betray Odin; he was betrayed by Odin. He did not open Asgard to its enemies; he attempted, misguidedly, to destroy Asgard’s enemies. And he most certainly did not commit suicide out of a sense of guilt.

I’m not saying Loki did nothing wrong, nor am I saying he feels no regret for the lives he has taken. What I’m saying is there’s no indication that he believes he betrayed Odin or Asgard in the process. Which makes perfect sense, because he didn’t. Everything he tried to do was for Odin and Asgard. It was misguided and horrible, yes, but it can hardly be classified as a betrayal.

The insurmountable burden on Loki is not that he did terrible things, but that no matter what he does or how hard he tries, Odin will never look at him with anything but contempt. Consider once more these passages from the very beginning of the book, at Thor’s coronation:

—

Consider that this book goes to great pains to point out that Odin favours Thor because Thor is a warrior like him. And yet even when Loki embraces that, even when he acts more war-like than ever before, Odin rejects him— just as he always has.

There is a reason why this moment is the last time Loki will ever call Odin his father. Because he realises once and for all that, no, nothing he tries will ever be good enough; no, Odin won’t ever look at him with pride. That is Loki’s burden. That is why he lets go.

The epilogue is really just two pages of making me want to vomit. 

There’s your party where Thor and a certain subset of the fandom insist that Loki was mourned. There’s barely an indication here that anyone even perceives his demise as a negative thing.

“[Sif] could see Frigga thought [Loki was dead] as well” also contradicts the tie-in comic for TDW, so I don’t know what the author is on about there. Unlike the majority of Marvel comics, the tie-in comics are canon to the MCU, so it’s a bizarre statement to make.

COULD YOU SMEAR THE DEAD* ABUSE VICTIM A LITTLE HARDER, PLEASE? Fucking hell.

No matter how many times I encounter this scene, in whatever format, I still fail to become desensitized to how disgusting it is. I realise there’s a good chance that whatever version of events Thor has been told was twisted at best; but how you can look at a man whose son has just committed suicide under any circumstances and say there will never be a better father than that guy, is utterly beyond my capacity to understand.

And Odin’s “you’ve already made me proud” line just feels like extra salt in the wound because, again, Loki let go because he realized Odin would never say those words to him. And yet they come so damn easily when it’s Thor.

Fuck this entire family so much. I think I hate them more than Loki does. Sometimes I wonder what he would think about that. How he would react to knowing that not only is he actually loved, but that he’s so loved that people are genuinely furious at the way he’s been mistreated. That there are people who regularly devolve into full-on rants because they just can’t contain how much anger they have towards the people who hurt him. I think he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around that concept, tbh.

Anyways, to end on a not-completely-depressing note, I’m still waiting for someone at Marvel to explain how Loki knew what Thor said in this scene after plummeting into a wormhole. ‘Cause he references this conversation as Fauxdin at the end of TDW. So like… ?? Did he steal Odin’s memories before he erased them? Because that would be… kind of neat, actually. And very clever. Not entirely ethical, of course, but it’s Odin, so fuck ethics.

WELP, THAT’S IT. Thanks for following along with my dumbassery, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Lol

[jo-the-schmo]

Red, Dead, Reflections Ch. 1

A/N: Alright so... I started writing this fic over a year ago, and was posting it as I wrote it. I fell out of it for a few reasons but I’ve missed it. So I decided to start writing it again. The original versions of the first 5 chapters already exist on my blog but I want to repost them and do some editing. This way I can make the series more polished. I also want to try and do a once a week maybe schedule to give me some time in between writing chapters and so I can take some feedback into consideration.I hope some of the people who originally wanted to keep up with my series see this and I want to apologize for falling back on this. I feel really bad about it. I’ll try harder to commit to this. Thank you so much for being interested in my work. If anyone would like to be tagged just let me know, I don’t wanna assume the people who did before want to now. 

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous and seemingly impossible position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (sorta) choose your own adventure.

Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence

Word count: 5,988

From Out West

“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes.

“Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner. 

“This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in the 21st century, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!”

“Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat.

“Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate. 

“We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right.

“Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled. 

“Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped. 

“Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI CAN get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!” 

“6.” Austin corrected. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.” 

“She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view. 

“Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?”

“Yes’ir.” 

“I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad. 

“You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.”

“Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads. 

The doors were kicked in. 

“EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing. 

“Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person. 

“Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?” 

“I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack. 

“I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils. 

“Staying alert, Dove?”

“Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines. 

“Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others. 

“I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be. 

“Take the shot!”

“Fuck you!” 

“Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected. 

“Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation. 

“Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her. 

“Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you. 

“At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care. 

“And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute. 

“Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice. 

“Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!” 

“There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.”

“And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed. 

“We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in. 

“They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit. 

“Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!”

“In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.” 

“We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two. 

“Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath. 

“Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood. 

The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands. 

But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling. 

And falling. 

The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared. 

Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside. 

“I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!” 

The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here? 

“Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone. 

You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight. 

“You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground. 

“Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson. 

“Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“

“I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood. 

You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance. 

“Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt. 

“Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster. 

“Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat. 

“You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage. 

“James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option. 

“Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts.  

“I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty-

“HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up. 

“Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed. 

“Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you. 

“Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you. 

“That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was. 

“Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?”

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” 

“Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either. 

“I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?” 

“Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name. 

“Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it. 

“Where are you from, son?”

“California.” That was a safe enough answer. 

“James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy. 

“I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’” 

“I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion. 

You handed the gun back to Dutch. 

“Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk.

“I think I like kid!” 

“Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside.

“Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him. 

“Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.”  You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe. 

There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you lept through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table. 

“What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in. 

“We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language.

“Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan.

“Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!” 

“Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening. 

“Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact. 

“They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind. 

“Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman. 

“Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments.

“It’s no problem, ma’am.”

“Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets.

“Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering. 

“Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky. 

“Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward.

“Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment. 

“Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?”

“We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What?

“What?”

“Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking?

“It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry.

“Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.” 

Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled. Everything was black. 

[rainecreatesstuff]

Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: Minecraft (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Ranboo, No Romantic Relationship(s) Characters: Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: Goat Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Platonically Married Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo Have a Child Named Michael, Ranboo Tubbo and Tommy run away from the SMP, Kind of like a fix-it fic but not really, sorry I’m not great with tags aha, Fluff, Family Fluff, just so so much fluff, Queerplatonic Ranboo and Tubbo, bee duo, Bench trio, Technoblade is a softie, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Gets a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Gets a Hug, Traumatized TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, lots of hugs and cuddles, Phil Watson is Called Philza (Video Blogging RPF), I don’t think I need any trigger warnings, but If I do please let me know and I’ll add them :), Snowchester on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Relationships, Platonic Cuddling, TommyInnit Has PTSD (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Horns, Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Mental Health Issues, Ranboo Has a Tail (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Has Mental Health Issues, god i hate tagging things, no beta we die like tommy- wait- shit no, no beta we die like Wilbur- FUCK-, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE UHHHHH MEXICAN DREAM, Rated T for Tommyinnit Swearing, and tubbo swearing, and maybe phil i don’t remember, point is, Swearing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 1 of Runaways AU

Takes place between Tommy’s revival and Wilbur’s. ALL names in this story are referring to the CHARACTERS of the Dream SMP, NOT the CCs. If any ccs state that this fic makes them uncomfortable, or it crosses boundaries, it will immediately be taken down. Please be respectful in the comments. :)

Chapter 2 under the cut! :)

Tubbo was shaking with excitement.

Finally, after months and months of shoving the thought away, it was happening. They were leaving.

Tubbo rushed around his basement, grabbing as many resources as he could and shoving them into his inventory haphazardly. Not much thought went into it, if he saw something he thought he might need he’d toss it in. If he forgot anything he could just ask Ranboo for it anyways.

With his stuff packed, he headed upstairs to check on Michael quickly before leaving. The toddler was still sound asleep, clinging to his chicken plush fiercely. Tubbo gently kissed his forehead, tucking him in tightly, before making his way back to the ladder.

He locked the hatch behind him, just in case. You could never be too careful when you were married to a main character and best friends with a protagonist. He shrugged on his coat and slipped on his combat boots, exiting the house and locking the door behind him. He ran to the hyper-tunnel, tridenting through and flying out the other side.

He made his way to Tommy’s land, where he found the blond sitting on his bench and staring at the horizon.

“Tommy!” Tommy’s head shot in his direction as he yelled his name.

He ran onto the property, practically throwing himself at Tommy and head-butting his chest.

“Fuckin- Ow man, what the fuck’s gotten into you?”

Tubbo grinned up at him, springing up from the bench and flapping his hands back and forth.

“Okay, okay, okay. So. Um, basically, you know how everything’s pretty much gone to shit on this server? And how we’re like, constantly in danger of someone trying to kill us?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“I’d say I’m well aware of it, yeah. Didn’t expect you to be so excited about it though. Seriously big man, I haven’t seen you this excited since the bee farm you built way back before L’Manburg.”

Tubbo faltered for a moment. This was going to be difficult.

“No, I’m not excited about that.” He took a deep breath and calmed himself down, falling back onto the bench.

“So, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, a long time, actually, and I was talking to Ranboo and he kind of just asked me why not, and now we’re doing it, so.”

Tommy laughed nervously.

“You still haven’t told me what ‘it’ is, Tubs.”

“I’m getting there. You’re just. You’re probably not gonna be too happy about it at first, but I want you to take some time and actually think about it because I do genuinely think it’s the best option for us.”

Tommy looked at him warily.

“Alright. I’ll think about whatever you say, promise.”

Tubbo nodded.

“Okay, good, so…”

He looked over to Tommy, sucked in a deep breath, and blurted it out.

“What if we left?”

Tommy froze.

He stood from the bench and made his way back towards his house, and Tubbo ran after him.

“Tommy, I know it’s scary, and weird, but honestly-“

“No.”

Tubbo froze as well.

“You promised you’d think about it.”

“Yeah, I did think about it, and now I’m fucking shaking, so sorry, Tubbo, but it’s a fucking no from me.” Tommy finally turned to look at Tubbo, and tears were pooling in his eyes.

Tubbo swallowed.

“We can’t keep living like this, Tommy. I can’t keep going week by week not knowing if my best friend, or my kid, or my husband, or myself are gonna make it to the next one.” Tubbo reached for Tommy’s hand, but the taller boy yanked it away.

“Then leave. Fuck off with your perfect little family. See if I care.” Tommy growled.

Tears threatened to spring to Tubbo’s eyes, but he held them back. Tommy didn’t mean any of this. He was scared, and he felt threatened, and he was responding with anger. Tubbo had seen him do it time and time again. This was nothing new.

Didn’t exactly make it hurt much less though.

“I’m not leaving without you. You are my family.” Tubbo reminded him gently.

Tommy practically snarled at him.

“Remember- remember what Puffy was saying? About using anger as a coping mechanism for fear? You’re doing it again, Toms.” Tubbo did his best to keep his voice from shaking.

He hated it when Tommy got like this with him. It’d happened far too many times and ended far too horribly each time. He wondered if it was his fault.

Tommy’s eyes widened for a moment, and he seemed to shake himself off, taking a deep breath before stepping backwards.

“Just- just give me a minute.” He turned and ran into his house.

Tubbo watched his retreat, and began shaking. He’d known Tommy wouldn’t take well to the idea, but he didn’t think it’d upset him this much. Was it worth it to try to convince him? Even if it would spare them both a lot of grief and suffering in the long run, he couldn’t bear to make Tommy feel that anxious.

He took a deep breath, and thought it all over again. He had wanted to leave because he wanted to feel safe. He wanted his loved ones safe. That was okay, it was good.

It was… a good option, all things considered. He knew if Wilbur were here, he’d scold him for running away from his problems. But Wilbur wasn’t here, and Tubbo wasn’t running away. He was escaping.

Tommy finally emerged from the house, looking a bit more confident with himself than he had before. He looked up at Tubbo with his hands busying themselves with his sleeves. Tubbo opened his arms, and Tommy slid into a hug.

“I know you’re not keen on the idea. And I know it’s stressful, and new, and I know you don’t like new. But please just let me explain. Because I don’t know how much longer we can go like this before something happens.” Tubbo spoke in a hushed tone.

Tommy pulled away, nodding and leading Tubbo back to the bench.

They sat down, and Tubbo took a deep breath and began.

“Okay. So, I’ve had this plan, kind of sitting in the back of my mind for a while. Wasn’t even really a plan at first, just a daydream.”

Tommy caught his eye, and nodded for him to continue.

“It must’ve been a few days after you got out of the prison. I just remember seeing you trip and fall, and god, Tommy, you looked the same way you did the day of the festival, in that goddamn pit…”

Tubbo looked away from Tommy, who reached over and grabbed his hand, holding it in his own gently.

“You were shaking like a leaf, and your breathing was all funny, and all I could think about was how none of this would’ve happened if we’d ran off that day, when we were talking about it.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Tommy stared out at the twilight growing sky, eyes tracing the newly revealed stars.

“Thought we’d agreed that was dumb. We still had stuff we had to do.”

“We did,” Tubbo bit his lip, “We did agree. Back then. But, I don’t know, I started letting myself think about it, and like… I just want to live. Like actually live. I don’t wanna be so scared out of my mind that I have to build fucking nukes to keep my family safe. I don’t wanna wake up every morning and not be sure if my best friend is still around until I see you.”

A tear ran down Tommy’s face, and he pulled Tubo into another tight hug.

“I can’t leave. I have so much work to do.”

Tubbo huffed, squeezing Tommy back.

“Like what?”

Tommy let his head rest on Tubbo’s shoulder, and his arms went slack against Tubbo’s back.

“I have so many people I have to apologize and make it up to. And I’ve got a reputation to fix. And I have to kill Dream.”

Tubbo pulled away, staring Tommy down.

“Ignoring that other stuff for a moment, you don’t have to kill Dream.”

Tommy frowned.

“Yeah, I do. He’s too dangerous to be left alive. If he brings Wilbur back he’s gonna hurt so many people. I don’t- I don’t wanna kill him, I don’t wanna kill anyone, but I have to, because nobody else will.” Tommy spoke it like it was a mantra he’d been taught.

Tubbo felt like he’d been taught it as well.

“But it’s not your job. It’s not your responsibility.”

“Tubbo-“

“No.” Tubbo stood from the bench.

“No, it’s not, and you’re not getting me to agree with that. Dream is fucking insane, and he’s hurt a lot of people, and you don’t have to deal with him. It’s not your responsibility to save everyone, Tommy. I know we’ve had it drilled into our heads from the moment we joined that goddamned revolution that we should aspire to be martyrs, but we shouldn’t.”

Tommy stared at him with something sad, and something akin to awe.

“We have every right to live and be safe, Tommy. We’ve done our part. We’ve fought wars we shouldn’t’ve had to. We get to be free from it all.” Tubbo paused for a moment, sitting back down.

“Dream isn’t your responsibility. Maybe he’s Sam’s, or his own, who knows. But he’s not yours. You don’t have to be the one to prevent his actions.”

Tommy breathed in shakily, and nodded.

“I hear you,” He spoke quietly, “Not sure if I quite get it yet, but. I do hear you.”

“That’s all I ask for.”

Tommy took a deep breath.

“So, you’re suggesting we just disappear into the night?”

Tubbo smiled sheepishly.

“I mean… essentially, yeah.”

“And you’ve been planning this for how long?”

“What time is it?”

“How the fuck would I know? Probably around nine or something?”

“Alright, then like… forty five minutes.”

Tommy stared at him.

Tubbo stared back.

“I’m gonna kill your husband.”

“Wha- it’s not like it’s his fault, I’m the one that brought it up-“

Tommy groaned.

“No no no, this has Ranboob written all over it. He probably made you get all nostalgic and shit and then proposed this and now we’re leaving.”

Tubbo’s ears pricked up, and a small smile wormed its way onto his face.

“So you’re coming then?”

Tommy groaned again, leaning back against the bench.

“I don’t fucking know Tubbo. You’re sure this is what you want? Like 100% sure?”

Tubbo ran a hand through his hair.

“Pretty sure it’s all I’ve wanted for a while, boss man.”

Tommy pulled his knees up to his chest.

“So you’re really okay just leaving all this behind? L’manburg, and the bench, and Snowchester?”

“Honestly? As long as I have you, Michael, and Ranboo, I couldn’t give two fucks about any of this. But… I understand if it’s harder for you.” Tubbo spoke gently, as if Tommy might startle.

Tommy hummed, and let his eyes fall on the horizon again.

“It’s weird to think about. And it makes me feel scared. Like, there’s all these places here that have so many memories, and one day we might come back and they’ll look completely different.”

Tubbo watched his friend quietly for a moment. He probably should have come prepared for a deep conversation. Tommy was having those a lot more often with him. And he was proud of Tommy, god, he was so proud of him. But it served as a bit of a reminder that things would never go back to the way they were before. There’d always be something weighing them down.

… If Tubbo got his way tonight, he hoped it would take a bit of that weight off.

“Isn’t there kind of beauty in that, though? New people will show up, and walk the same ground as us, and make new memories in the places we made ours. Someone else will sit on this bench one day and it could be the best day of their life, and they’ll watch the sunset and celebrate, just like we did, and never even know it.”

Tommy caught his eye again, a look of contemplation in his gaze.

“And like, nothing’s ever permanent, Toms. You and I of all people know that. If you decide you want to come back, I’ll come with you. It’s me and you ‘til the end, right?” Tubbo held up his arm, hand fisted, and smiled as Tommy did the same and bumped their arms together.

“Always.”

Tommy sighed.

“Guess I better get packing then, huh?”

Tubbo grinned.

“I’ll meet you at my place in, let’s say, an hour?”

“Sure big man.”

The two hugged once more, then separated. Tubbo nearly had to stop himself from skipping down the prime path.

Tommy did have a point, it was weird to think he might never walk this path again. That sickly fear of being forgotten crawled it’s way into his chest, and he decided to get rid of it as soon as possible. He’d made his mark well enough, if he said so himself.

There was an entire crater that people would tell stories of for decades that he’d had a huge part in. Couples would settle down in Snowchester years from now and see his name etched into the stone, and know him as their founder. Teenagers would dare each other to walk through a button-filled ravine and the nerds among them would tell the story of Pogtopia, of the president that went mad, and the legendary warrior, and the determined hero, and maybe, hopefully, even the crafty spy. He’d made several farms and trading posts that would be used for generations should they be upkept. And he’d never upkept them, so he didn’t see them falling into disarray the moment he left.

Tubbo had left his mark on the land. On the history of the server. Still, the tightness wouldn’t leave his throat.

He grabbed a knife from his pocket and stared at the prime path for a moment before kneeling down. In sharp, clean letters, he etched “TUBBO_BELOVED WALKED HERE.” It was simple, so utterly stupid compared to the other things he had done to mark up the server. But it made him laugh, and it made the tendrils of fear loosen from his lungs, for whatever reason. And so he decided to be proud of it.

He made his way back home and practically flung open the door, making his way to his bedroom and closet. The moon was well underway on its journey through the sky, the silver light illuminating his room through the windows. He grabbed an assortment of clothes and piled them into a backpack. Several green shirts, some hoodies, a t-shirt that definitely had belonged to Ranboo at some point, jeans. He threw in everything he could. His hand brushed on a coat, and he pushed the rest of the clothes to the side.

His presidential jacket hung neatly in the corner of his closet. That’s right, he’d stored it away before Doomsday. Hadn’t been sure when he’d need it again. He slipped it off its hanger and shrugged it on. He looked at himself in the mirror.

It still looked too big.

“Tubbo?”

Tubbo glanced to the corner of the mirror, where Ranboo now stood in his line of sight.

“Hey boss man.”

Ranboo strode up to him, and hugged him gently from behind, his elbows resting on Tubbo’s shoulders.

“You ready to get going?”

“Just about. Gotta get Michael’s stuff together still.”

“Mm.”

They stood like that for a few moments, until Ranboo gently head butted Tubbo’s head, and moved away, gently slipping the coat off of Tubbo. He put it back on its hanger and slid it back into its place in the closet.

“I vote we leave this one behind.”

Tubbo hummed, a smile making its way onto his face.

“Can't say I disagree.”

Ranboo grabbed a few more things from Tubbo’s closet and threw them to Tubbo, who caught them and folded them, placing them carefully into his bag.

“Guess you don’t like me in a suit then. I’ll make note of that.”

Ranboo froze for a moment, then flustered, slapping Tubbo gently on the back of the head. Tubbo giggled, zipping up his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder.

They made their way out into the living room, where a duffel bag already sat on the floor beside the couch. Tubbo threw his bag down next to Ranboo’s, and jumped when the duffel moved.

“Hey, Boo?” Tubbo whisper-yelled.

“Yeah?”

“Care to explain why your bag is shaking and purring?”

They stared at each other, Ranboo freezing like a deer in headlights.

“… I couldn’t just leave Enderchest.”

Tubbo laughed fondly. He knelt down and scratched the cat’s ears, which earned him a louder purr.

“Guess I understand. Cats have got to stick together after all.” Tubbo grinned.

Ranboo groaned across the room.

“Catboy, little meow meow, my meow meow catboy, little baby man.” Tubbo strode across the room, smooshing Ranboo’s cheeks with his hands.

“You are a menace to society.”

Tubbo cackled evilly, and moved one of his hands up to scratch around Ranboo’s ears, laughing again when a soft rumble came from his husband’s chest.

“This is not funny.” Ranboo could barely stop himself from purring long enough to say it.

“Mhm.” Tubbo rubbed Ranboo’s ears and the purring grew louder.

“I hate this.”

“Tell me to stop then.”

Ranboo flushed, and Tubbo laughed triumphantly, bonking his forehead with Ranboo’s and leaving him be. He made his way up to Michael’s room, followed closely by Ranboo, who held another backpack in his hands and was yet to stop purring.

They moved in tandem, grabbing and folding their toddler’s clothes and placing them in the backpack. They also brought an assortment of books and little trinkets they’d collected for Michael over the past few months. Finally, they grabbed some blankets and folded them neatly, stuffing them into the backpack and zipping it up. Ranboo swung the backpack over his shoulder and shimmied back down the ladder.

Tubbo sighed, and sat on Michael’s bed, gently carding his fingers through his son’s short mane. Ranboo came back up, and sat beside him.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Tubbo mumbled, half to himself.

“Can’t believe in a bad way, or can’t believe in a good way?”

“The good way.”

Ranboo leaned against Tubbo, resting his cheek on Tubbo’s head, careful to avoid the horns.

“Should we wake him up now and get him out to a boat, or should we wait for Tommy?” Ranboo swung an arm around Tubbo’s waist lazily.

Tubbo leaned into the gesture. It was quite bizarre. Ever since his execution, physical affection had left him uneasy and anxious, but for some reason it was different with Ranboo. Maybe it was how unsure of it he’d seemed himself, or maybe that he hadn’t known Tubbo before the scars. It made Tommy jealous, Tubbo was well aware of that. But at the moment, Tommy was only just getting back to being able to handle hugs, so Tubbo wasn’t sure cuddling would do either of them any good at this point.

“Bo?”

Tubbo snapped back.

“Right, sorry, yeah, let’s uh, let’s wait for Tommy to get here. He’ll probably wake Michael up with his knocking anyway.”

Ranboo hummed amusedly, and Tubbo smiled. He glanced out the window, and watched the waves for a moment.

“You wanna go for a quick stroll before Tommy gets here?” Tubbo stood, offering Ranboo a hand up.

“Sure.”

Ranboo took it, and they made their way to the doors, Tubbo slipping on his coat as they left. They wandered around for a bit, chatting idly, reminiscing on stupid and funny moments that had happened in the little town of Snowchester. They eventually ended up on the docks, and Tubbo sat down, swinging his legs over the side. Ranboo sat beside him, his tail wrapping around towards Tubbo.

Tubbo shivered, and leaned into Ranboo, who held him.

“So this is it then. Anywhere you wanna visit before we leave? L’manhole, maybe?”

Tubbo smiled.

“Nah. I’ve said my goodbyes to that place. I’m all good to go.”

Ranboo laughed quietly.

“Not to question you, but for someone who spent several nights awake making layouts for his builds, you don’t seem all too sad about leaving them.”

“Well, I mean, yeah. It kinda sucks, but at their core, they’re just builds. I’ll think back on them one day and cringe at how I styled them. You and Michael and Tommy being safe is far more important than whatever project I’m focused on at the minute.” Tubbo said quietly.

Ranboo hummed.

“And you know you’re the same for me, right? You’re always gonna be one of my top priorities.”

It felt a little uncomfortable to hear, but Tubbo knew that was just his messed up brain doing its messed up little thing. And so, pushing down the feeling of twisting in his stomach, he leaned closer to Ranboo.

“Thanks, boss man. I’m glad.”

They sat for a moment in silence, listening to the waves lap at the sides of the docks. Tubbo checked his communicator for the time. Tommy should be getting here soon. Thank god, he was getting a bit anxious to actually get on the road. He was, of course, still grateful that the universe had decided to give them a moment of peace before the inescapable chaos that would be travelling a long distance with a toddler and Tommy- so, basically two toddlers- for several days. Hell, maybe even several weeks.

So, of course, Ranboo had to ruin the peace.

“You’re actually talking about your feelings. A big win for the Tubbo_Beloved community.”

Tubbo huffed out a laugh, gently slapping Ranboo’s chest.

“Oh, shut up.”

Ranboo giggled, his tail wagging happily and hitting the stone.

“OI TUBBO! BOOB BOY! I’M HERE!”

Tubbo let out a sigh and turned to see Tommy standing on his porch, waving his arms around like a madman. Ranboo laughed, bonking their foreheads together. Tubbo groaned, letting his head fall onto Ranboo’s chest for a minute.

“Ready to spend several days on end with the one and only Tommyinnit?” Ranboo’s voice was light, lighter than he’d heard it in a while.

Tubbo smiled.

“Gods help our souls.”

Ranboo laughed, loud and clear, and Tubbo grinned. He pulled back, and Ranboo stood, helping Tubbo up as well. They made their way back to the cabin, Tommy tapping his foot impatiently like a cartoon character. Tubbo walked up the steps and made eye contact with Tommy, asking a silent question.

Are you okay?

Yes.

Are you sure you wanna do this?

Yeah, I’m good.

Tommy swung an arm around Tubbo’s neck, pulling him in quickly for a side-hug, then relaxing and dragging him inside.

“Your gremlin’s awake by the way. Couldn’t handle the might and power of the great Tommyinnit.” Tommy grinned as he tossed his bag next to Tubbo’s beside the couch.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, and motioned for Ranboo to go get Michael with a nod. Ranboo laughed quietly, and went upstairs. Tommy released Tubbo from his hold, and plopped down beside the bags, petting Enderchest, who seemed somewhat apprehensive of the new person.

“So did you say goodbye to everything?” Tommy scratched behind Enderchest’s ears and the cat immediately warmed up to him.

“Nah. I’ve made my peace with this place. Just waiting to leave now.” Tubbo sat down beside him, taking a few locks of Tommy’s hair and beginning to twist them into a braid.

“Saw your message on the Prime Path.”

“Yeah?”

“Made one beside it. Now it says ‘TUBBO_BELOVED and BIG MAN TOMMYINNIT WALKED HERE.’”

“Pffft- I’m glad, now everyone will know the true owners of the Prime Path for generations to come.” Tubbo tied the braid together loosely, then sat back.

“Fuck yeah they will. Big Man Tommy’s legacy is going nowhere.”

Tubbo laughed, and Tommy smiled gently.

Tubbo’s ear flicked as the hatch to Michael’s room opened, and he looked over to see Ranboo carrying a very sleepy Michael down the ladder. The toddler was wrapped in his favourite blanket, one he’d been given by Foolish, and was clutching his chicken plush against his chest with one hand. His other hand gripped Ranboo’s shirt, rumpling the thin fabric, and not assisting in keeping the toddler in Ranboo’s arms in any way, shape, or form. Tubbo stood, making his way over and taking Michael from Ranboo’s arms. Michael gently headbutted his chest, and Tubbo did the same to Michael’s forehead.

“Did you tell him what’s happening yet?” Tubbo asked as Ranboo made his way down the ladder.

“Not yet, figured we should tell him together.”  

“Mm. Fairs. Mikey?”

Michael gazed up at his dads sleepily. Tubbo’s heart clenched at the sight.

“You awake there, buddy?” Ranboo asked, running a hand through the toddler’s mane.

Michael grunted and hid his face in Tubbo’s shoulder, causing a soft laugh from Ranboo. Tommy snorted from across the room.

“Can we talk for a minute Michael?” Tubbo placed a kiss on his son’s forehead, and Michael looked up at him, then Ranboo, and nodded.

“Alright.” Tubbo carried Michael over to where Tommy sat, and returned to his place on the floor with Michael in his lap.

Michael’s eyes shot open when he saw Tommy, his mouth gaping in surprise. He squirmed out of Tubbo’s grasp and walked right up to Tommy, placing his tiny, hoof-like hands on Tommy’s cheeks.

“Mimi.” Michael stated with a seriousness that bordered that of a commander’s.

Tubbo burst out laughing, and as Ranboo slid onto the floor beside him, he could feel his husband shaking trying to hold his own laughter back. Tommy sighed dramatically, but smiled.

“Yes, it is me, your saviour, Mimi. I’ve arrived to make sure those two don’t bore you to death.” Tommy nodded in Tubbo and Ranboo’s direction.

Well, he tried to. He did what he could with toddler hands holding his head in place. Michael followed his gaze, and looked between his dads like he was contemplating something very important. He looked back to Tommy and nodded. Tubbo gasped.

“Have we been betrayed?” Tubbo looked back at Ranboo, who grinned.

“I think so, I think so.”

“We’ve been betrayed by our only heir. Oh woe is me.” Tubbo fell back dramatically into Ranboo’s arms, and Michael giggled.

Tubbo reached his arms out in Michael’s direction, and Michael waddled back over to him, sitting squarely in his lap, and looking up at him expectedly.

“Alright. Serious talk time,” Tubbo squeezed his son, and Ranboo nodded in agreement, “I’m gonna tell you straight up, because I know you’re a big kid and you’re gonna be okay. But it’s okay if you feel upset at what I tell you, okay?”

“You’re allowed to feel however you do, I promise your Bee and I won’t ever get mad at you for that, alright?” Ranboo gently squeezed Tubbo’s shoulder as he spoke.

Michael looked between the two quizzically, and then looked back down at his lap. After a moment, he looked back up, and nodded seriously.

“Alright. So, we’re going to be moving houses, and it’s probably gonna be really far away.”

“And we probably won’t be back for a very long time.” Ranboo added.

Michael’s eyebrows furrowed, and Tubbo would have cooed if he wasn’t worried that Michael was upset. The toddler jutted his thumb out in the direction of the mansion, and Tubbo is quite proud of himself, because he at least had the decency to look sheepish at it. Tommy had to suppress a laugh, hiding it behind a cough. Tubbo glared at him. Ranboo snorted from behind him.

“No, Mikey, we’re gonna travel for a while and then build a new house, far away from here.”

Michael frowned, and took his chicken plush back in his hands, placing it in his lap. He squeezed it gently a couple times as Tubbo ran his hand through the toddler’s mane. Michael eventually looked back up at him, and signed something that Tubbo recognized as “Mimi come?”

“Yeah, bud, Mimi’s coming too.” Ranboo smiled patiently.

Michael squeezed his chicken plush again, then stood, pointing to the ladder.

“You need back up, Mikey? What’s up?” Tubbo asked.

“Need clothes and books and toys.”

“Oh, we’ve already got your stuff packed! Come look!” Ranboo reached around Tubbo and grabbed Michael’s backpack, a yellow one with a bee embroidered on the front.

Ranboo unzipped it, and Michael ran back over, gripping the backpack and looking inside. Ranboo helped him push the blankets aside, and Michael looked at all the clothes and toys they’d packed. He tapped his chin, and Tubbo had to hold back another laugh, because where had he even learned that from? After a couple moments, Michael zipped up the bag himself, and nodded firmly at Ranboo.

“You’re ready to go?” Tubbo asked.

Michael reached for his chicken plush, and Tubbo handed it to him. The toddler nodded.

“Alright. Are you feeling okay about it?” Ranboo placed the backpack beside the other bags as he spoke.

Michael frowned again.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s alright, bud. Do you feel sad?”

Michael shook his head almost immediately.

“Do you feel angry?”

“…No.”

Tubbo watched the interaction with a certain fondness. Ranboo was always so careful with explaining emotions to Michael, and trying to help Michael understand his own. It was sweet to watch.

Tommy obviously didn’t share the same sentiment. He didn’t say anything, but Tubbo noticed his fingers drumming anxiously against the floorboards. His other hand pet Enderchest with a fervour that the cat probably didn’t appreciate. Tubbo would have to thank him later for being so patient with Michael. Or, at least trying to.

“Do you feel nervous?”

Michael stopped for a minute, clutching his chicken close to his chest and mulling it over. Eventually he nodded, and Ranboo smiled gently, the way he always did when he spoke to Michael.

“That’s okay. Your Bee and I are gonna be right beside you the entire time, okay? And if you’re ever feeling nervous, you can tell one of us, and we’ll try to help. Is that okay?”

Michael nodded, and opened his arms for a hug, his chicken falling into Ranboo’s lap. Ranboo pulled him into a hug, not letting go until Michael did. The toddler then turned to Tubbo and did the same. Tubbo held him close to his chest, rocking them from side to side gently. Michael pulled away, and Tubbo did too, gently bonking their foreheads together before completely pulling away.

“You’re very brave, Michael. It’s not easy to do things you’re nervous about. We’re proud of you.” Tubbo ruffled the kid’s mane as Michael grinned.

“Alright. We’re gonna leave now, and you can sleep on the way, okay?”

Michael smiled and nodded, grabbing his blanket from Tubbo’s lap and wrapping it around himself haphazardly. Tubbo stood, followed by Ranboo, who picked up Michael and carried him over to the door. Tommy scratched Enderchest’s chin, then gently zipped up the duffel a bit more. He stood, grabbing his own bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

Tubbo grabbed his backpack and did the same as Ranboo buttoned Michael into his coat. Tubbo grabbed Michael’s hat and slid it on the toddler’s head before helping him with his boots. Tubbo slid on his own boots, tying them tightly. Ranboo grabbed Michael’s backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, then grabbed his duffel bag carefully. Tubbo picked Michael up, and they left the house.

They made it to the front yard, and Tubbo turned around one last time.

“You wanna say bye to the house, Michael?” He murmured.

“Bye bye house.” Michael’s words slurred together with tiredness, and Tubbo awed quietly.

He turned and began to walk away, but Michael grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled it gently, just enough to sting.

“Ow- what the-“ Tubbo took a deep breath, “What’s up, Michael?”

Michael pointed at the house.

“Picture.”

Ah. Of course. Ranboo had shown him their camera a few days ago, and the toddler had loved it. Of course he’d want a picture of the house. Tubbo turned to look at Ranboo, who shrugged, then slid Michael’s backpack off and grabbed a camera from inside. Tubbo sighed. One more quick detour wouldn’t hurt.

“Alright. Let’s go stand by the door.” He carried the toddler back up the front steps, and turned to face Ranboo and Tommy.

Ranboo readied the camera, before being slapped gently in the back of the head by Tommy. He looked back at Tommy with confusion, and Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Go stand with your family, dumbass.” Tommy held his hand open for the camera, looking everywhere but at Ranboo.

Tubbo laughed to himself as Ranboo visibly softened, handing Tommy the camera and making his way up the steps. He stood behind Tubbo, gently placing a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder.

They smiled, and the camera flashed a few times. Tommy pulled back, inspecting the photos for a minute, then gave them the thumbs up. They walked back over, and Michael poked Tommy, pointing at the camera.

“There you go. These pictures up to your standards Big M?” Tommy asked, showing them the camera.

Michael looked at the pictures, then nodded seriously.

“Good, wouldn’t want to disappoint.” Tommy ruffled Michael’s mane, then handed Ranboo the camera.

Ranboo carefully slid it back into Michael’s bag, and the four made their way to the docks.

Two boats were already tied to the docking points, and Ranboo must have set them up when Tubbo wasn’t looking, because Tubbo definitely hadn’t. Ranboo carefully made his way down the ladder and into the first boat, standing with his feet wide. Tubbo bit his lip.

This probably wouldn’t be a fun time for Ranboo, he wasn’t exactly great around water, for good reason. With any luck, they’d only need to travel by boat for a few hours, then they would find land and borrow (read: steal) some horses and travel horseback from there.

Ranboo gently placed his duffel bag in the bottom of the boat, sliding off Michael’s backpack and placing it beside the duffel. He then reached up towards Tubbo, and Tubbo carefully handed him Michael. The moment Tubbo let go, Ranboo sat down, clearly not trusting himself enough to hold their kid above water.

Tommy made his way into the second boat, tossing his bag on the floor as well. Tubbo climbed into Ranboo’s boat, but passed his backpack to Tommy, who put it beside his own. Tubbo sat down, then reached for Michael again. Ranboo handed the toddler over, then stood, untying the boat from the dock. Tommy did the same in the boat next to them.

Michael made himself comfortable in Tubbo’s lap, and, almost instantly, fell back asleep. Tubbo laughed gently and looked up to Ranboo, who was watching them with a look of fondness clear on his face.

“Alright, you guys can make doe eyes at each other once we get there, c’mon.” Tommy grinned as Ranboo spluttered, then began rowing.

Ranboo huffed, but followed suit. They began travelling Northeast.

“Our arms are gonna hurt so bad tomorrow.” Tommy stated tiredly.

“Worth it.” Ranboo smiled.

And they were off.

They’d done it. They’d escaped.

[clairecrive]

“More” - Tommy Conlon x reader

Send me a character and a number and I’ll write something based on the song that comes on shuffle. Soo, this wasn’t supposed to be a full imagine and that’s also why it took me so long to post it. I have other requests and this was supposed to be something short and fun but it turned out to be long and fluffy and I’m not even mad about it. I know I’ve been kinda absent this week so I’ll try and double update today and post tomorrow as well.

Please be patient with me, I’m trying my best, I just need to find a new balance between this blog, online lessons and my life basically.

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​ @mollybegger-blog​ @br0ck-eddie​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @fandom--0verdose​ @innerpaperexpertcloud​ @evelynshelby​ (let me know if you wanna be added)

Song: "More" by 5sos

"And all the things that we dream about

They don't mean what they did before

I just wanna get back to us

'Cause we used to have more"

Tommy Conlon was sitting in front of you looking like a shell of himself but at the same time just like the guy you remembered. He had always been bulky and fit thanks to his strict regime both in the gym and in the kitchen. Being in prison for a while surely contributed to it seeing as there wasn't much you could do in the confinement of a cell or much you could eat for the unsavory food they gave him. If it was possible, his muscles were even bigger than the last time you had seen him and for a moment you wondered if he had his clothes especially made. However, knowing Tommy you immediately dismissed the thought.

If his appearance had only slightly changed, the thing that struck you the most was the look in his eyes. Ever the silent and reserved guy, Tommy had never been one of many words but he was always able to convey any message or emotion through his eyes. Because of his troubled past, his eyes were always troubled and unfocused on the matter at hand, too busy worrying about his family situation. Now, the look behind his eyes was steadier and more focused. You had the feeling that when he looked at you he didn't see the ghost of his mother or whatever was troubling him but he was finally seeing you. It didn't matter that you were just catching up talking about everything and anything, you could tell that he was taking in every word you were saying. He was here with you in this moment and that made you even happier than seeing him after such a long time. Because that meant that he had somehow tamed the demons of his past and was finally living his life a little lighter.

You and Tommy went way back. You were aware of his past, both with his family and the marines. You had always been by his side, trying to lighten his days and to share the baggage he had with him since childhood but to no avail. You understood that it was something deeply personal that he had to deal with himself and on his own terms but it didn't hurt any less the realization that what you did wasn't enough and that he had to leave. Your 12 years old self didn't understand that and took it too personally that she had to when it had nothing to do with you.

This wasn't the first time you had seen Tommy after your shared childhood and early teen years. Somehow, you were both at the same time and place once and the universe did the trick. It had been ten years since the last time you saw him and right then and there you didn't recognize him. He was a totally different person than from the young boy you knew. You, however, hadn't changed that much and Tommy immediately connected your face to one of the few people of his old life, he didn't despise. Since that day, you had pretty much been inseparable. Of course, you both had your schedules and routines by then but you both worked to get them to fit with one another and soon you were basically living together.

While you were studying during the day Tommy would spend his mornings at the gym. Afternoons were rarely spent together, you would be working and Tommy too. Evenings were your shared time. Without fail, you would meet and spend time together, be it sharing a meal or doing other activities. It was as if those ten years had never passed and you soon found that balance that had made your bond special. However, Tommy had his burden and no matter what you did, you couldn't help him. There were things that we have to deal with alone and Tommy wasn't there yet at that time. He was angry, at everything and everyone, and while that was great for it fuel him for his matches, it didn't help him deal with his everyday life in a peaceful way. There was nothing peaceful about him in those days. It wasn't as if he got you stuck with or he treated you badly. It's just that he fell into unhealthy and toxic routines and habits that of course, took their toll on you too. You had never really talked about your relationship, you didn't really label it but you cared about it. Hell, you even admitted to your self and him that you loved him. You did. But unfortunately for both of you, love wasn't enough to get him out of that dark circle.

So you left him. Even though it didn't happen in the best of circumstances and you certainly didn't keep in touch afterwards, you always associated Tommy with your happiest memories and you were certain that he didn't resent you for your decision either. As you couldn't blame him for what happened to him that screwed him over, he also couldn't fault you for deciding to call him out on his bullshit and take a step back when it all became too much to bear.

Then Sparta happened and your heart broke as well as Tommy's shoulder during the finale and even more so when you learned about what was going to happen to him after the competition was over. You tried to stay updated while he was on trial but after he was sentenced you kinda got lost in your everyday life. The thought of visiting him had once passed your mind, but why would you? I mean yes, you still loved him and cared about him but you hadn't spoken nor seen him in forever so how were you going to just pop up one day in prison? Who told you that he even wanted to see you?

No one did and so you didn't. Tommy had never really left your heart nor your mind but it was easy to push it back and focus on your career, immersing yourself in work had always proved to be successful in making you so tired that by the time you got home you didn't know how to do 2+2.

You could swear that not even a year had gone by after Tommy had been sentenced to prison but when he reached to you, one day out of the blue, you soon was met to the harsh reality that almost two years had gone by, marking almost four years since you broke up.

That was a lot of time and a lot of things had changed, but you'd be fooling nobody if you said that your eyes didn't sparkle as they used to, when they saw the familiar silhouette waiting for you at the bar you'd picked.

"It's so nice seeing you out and about, Tommy. You seem like you're doing fine." In those two years, Tommy had managed to deal not only with prison but also got himself into therapy when he got out. He had started a couple of months back and it really was showing. His gloomy appearance was a thing of the past and now there was only room for funny and carefree Tommy. Well, that was not to say that he put it all behind him but he certainly had it under control now and you couldn't help but admire him with pride and affection.

"I've put it off long enough. It's time." He modestly confessed with a little smile that you couldn't help but mirror. Neither of you added anything, just stared at one another. So much had happened between you that it seemed pointless now to indulge in trivial chit chat. While you took a sip of your lukewarm tea, he cleared his throat and reached for you the hand that wasn't holding the cup.

"I've been meaning to call you for a while actually, but I... couldn't find the courage." He timidly started.

"Is that so?" You curiously ask, tightening your hold on his hand.

"I thought that I was the last person you'd want to see after what happened. I was surprised actually that you said yes to this meeting."

"Oh Tommy," you said taking his other hand in yours too, " you know that I've never blamed for what happened. Maybe we were simply not meant to be." Grudgingly you admitted while forcing the sour tone away from your words.

"You know that I've never believed in that fate shit and now I'm ever more convinced that it's indeed a load of bullshit?" he asked shuffling on his chair, " Because I'm in a point in my life where I finally have it under control, you know? So I guess you could say that I have everything that I've ever wished for, right?" He waited just a moment to let his words sink in, "And you couldn't be more wrong. All I want is just to get back to us." He delivered the last blow as he slowly met your confused gaze.

God knows how many nights you had dreamed about this very moment. But you were confused. Was he really saying that he also harbored the same feelings you had for him after all this time? Wasn't it all doomed from the start? You had tried before and it didn't work out. Would you be willing to put yourself through the possibility of a heartbreak?

"I can see the wheels spinning behind your eyes. I know you too well, Y/N." He stopped your thoughts' route, "Don't do this, 'right?"

"Just tell me something: do you still feel something for me?"

"Of course I do, Tommy. But-"

"No, not buts y/n, please," he interrupted you mid-sentence, "I know that you have reservations, and rightly so. But please, trust me when I say that I'm not the one that I used to be. Things are going to be different, I swear to you." His promise paired with his earnest glaze was a lethal mix, one you couldn't resist.

Taking another look at him, you realized that he was right. He was going to therapy and he seemed to be doing alright already, you thought. There were two obvious possible endings for this: it could all to pieces again and at least you could always say that you'd tried or, if everything went well, you could be the happiest you've ever been. This last possibility was so appealing that it exceeded the other by a long way. You had your job cut out for you, really.

"Let's get out of here."

[tozierpunks]

re: the losers having kids who become friends

Stan and Patty planned for kids; they were definitely trying before that call came. So when IT is defeated and Stan is a-okay, they finally get the babies they want. Jennifer comes first; she’s a firecracker of a kid. She’s loud and she’s uninhibited and she’s everything that would’ve exhausted Stan as a child. He adores her. He combs her hair at night before bed, and ties ribbons in her pigtails before school, and he’s so incredibly proud to be her father.

After deciding to have their two (and absolutely NO MORE) kids close together, Patty gives birth to little Andrew. He’s very much a follower, and hangs on to his sisters’ every word. She gets them into all sorts of shenanigans, and Andy is a dutiful baby brother. He’s constantly got his thumb in his mouth; which is CUTE.

Stan brags to the other losers that his kids never fight.

Bill and Mike take their time getting together; Billy has a divorce to get through after all. As soon as it’s all said and done though, they start looking to adopt. It doesn’t take long at all -- in fact, it seems like... fate. Whether it is or isn’t, Mike is awed when their little Lucy stumbles through the door.

She has a fairly large burn on the left side of her face, which will become a permanent scar. Her parents died in a car crash, which gave her the mark in the first place. Mike says she looks like an angel, which rapidly gets her out of her shell.

They adopt her as quickly as they can. Then it occurs to them, one CRUCIAL fact they didn’t quite consider: the world............. is horrifically dangerous.

Most of their time is spent keeping Lucy’s curious behind out of trouble. She’s the Tommy Pickles of the kids; danger is her middle name and she also laughs in the face of it. She’s got courage but also... no offense to Bill, but she’s got his Big Stupid. She finds a feral cat and - despite it scratching her to ribbons - she wants to take him home and give him a bath. Mike has to quickly yeet her out of the bathroom and trap the cat inside before calling animal control.

Ben and Bev? They have five (5) kids, which... is on brand. Two sets of twins; Milo and Miles, followed by Olivia and Owen, and then finally their baby, Archie.

Milo Hanscom is a sweet lil poundcake; he’s very much like his dad. If a conversation isn’t going EXACTLY how he mapped it out in his brain, he will turn and walk away with no added explanation. On the other hand, Miles is a lot like his mom. He’ll sneak cigarettes and he’s incredibly smart; he’ll swipe a bag of candy from Keene’s store and sell each piece for a quarter on the schoolyard. Bev has no idea where he gets his income, but she is SUS.

Miles and Jenny are actually best friends; as toddlers, they would go up to each other (sneak up, really), and smack each other on the heads as a greeting.

Olivia and Owen are as close as sisters can be; they have their own language, and both of them are brilliant, scholarly girls. Owen will absolutely stab anyone in the way of her GPA. They’re the masterminds when they’re babies: all those shenanigans the Rugrats get into? Owen or Olivia hatches the plan, and they have their older brothers wrapped around their fingers! So they have the muscle to back up their ideas.

Archie is the super sweet baby child. He is SCARED. Of EVERYTHING. He cried during his first haircut. Animals terrify him. As a baby, he’d sob when the sun disappeared behind clouds. Ben tried playing peekaboo with him once, and Archie was inconsolable bc “WHERE IS MY DADDY?!?” Those kawaii stress balls - the squishy things with cute faces? THOSE are harder than Archie Hanscom.

Finally, we have Richie and Eddie’s kids: Julian and Deana. Biologically (because yes, they chose surrogates), Julian is Eddie’s, whereas Deana is Richie’s. And... it kinda shows through their behavior.

Julian is the first of the Losers 2.0 to say no to his parents. His first word: No his second word: Nah-uh his third word: Nope his fourth word is stinky, but that’s neither here nor there.

HE KEEPS BREAKING SHIT. Ofc it’s an “accident.” How far can this lamp tilt? How much water is too much for the doggie bowl? How much of this lotion and toilet paper can he fit in the toilet? (He counts to twelve, but to be fair, he skips numbers 3-11 cause he doesn’t know those. “1, 2, 12.”) How much Julian can fit through the doggie door? (the answer is half)

Now Deana-- they panicked in the hospital. Eddie grabbed Richie by the shoulders and said, “Every gay couple our age has a pet or daughter named Diana. We can’t name her after the princess.” and Richie goes, “Psh, of course.” and haphazardly scrawls and “e” over the “i” on her birth certificate.

Julian is one and a half years old when he meets his baby sister, and Eddie carried him in to see the newborn infant. Her weird beady eyes terrify him, and his immediate response is to smack her lil face. This instigates their childhood long fight, because they don’t stop for the next thirteen years.

On Julian’s third birthday he asks for them to take Deana back to the hospital bc, “she’s stinky, and I hate her,” and he smiles like :D when he proposes the idea. He’s convinced Deana is broken because she refuses to eat; she’ll suck the salt off fries, and eat a lil piece of pepperoni off the pizza, but other than that, no thanks!

Now when you get all the kids together? Ultimate chaos! Jenny and Olivia lead all the others on their bikes to ride around Derry, and when Miles finds the Barrens, those girls have the brilliant idea to build a clubhouse. Ofc neither of them wanna get dirt under their nails, so they enlist Miles, Milo, Lucy, and Julian. Deana keeps trying to eat the dirt, and Julian is huffy bc he has to stop her.

Archie screams every time a bug flies by, and Lucy gives him her sweater (she knows he likes it, because it’s a pastel green and v. soft), telling him, “My daddy made this for me, and it protects you from monsters, if you believe it does.”

Throughout digging, each of the kids rotate who brings snacks and games. The Hanscom kids always have a great haul (mostly because there’s more grabby hands to raid their pantry), and everyone is so-so when it’s Julian and Deana’s turn, bc the only sugary thing in their cupboards are cereal.

While everyone’s digging (they’re about two feet into the project at this point), Andy and Owen are playing a game of scrabble. Neither of them wanted to get their hands dirty! Much to Owen’s surprise, Andy wins. She’s not a good loser, and she very huffily throws the board a couple feet away. Andy, a patient and good sport, goes to get it, when he falls through the large mound of leaves.

All the Losers 2.0 panic (Jenny “strangles” Miles as she shouts that her parents will be SO PISSED if she let the earth eat her brother), and are relieved when he pokes his little head out from the leaves. He looks excited, and he shouts, “GUYS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!”

Julian puts Deana in her wagon (which all the other babykids ride in too, so Deana, Archie, Lucy, and usually Andy) and pulls them over - with Milo’s help ofc, and Olivia is the first to venture down. She turns on a flashlight and echoes Andy’s excitement, “GUYS, LOOK!”

Climbing down the ladder, one by one, the kids marvel in complete awe at their discovery. There’s a swing, a dusty old hammock, and even a super old-looking stereo. With a little elbow grease, this hole could be turned into EXACTLY the clubhouse they wanted. Their entire summer goes to making the clubhouse a perfect hangout spot.

One night, while the original Losers Club is having a barbecue, Patty asks, “Where do you think those kids run off to all day?”

Ben fondly thinks back on the clubhouse he and his friends created together, and he can only hope his kids find something half as great. “Probably somewhere fun,” he says.

“It’s probably how it was when we were kids,” Richie says, looking at each of his friends. “The best.”

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

Perma Tag List: @s-s-georgie, @xandertheundead, @reddie-for-anything, @tinyarmedtrex, @richietoizer, @appojoos, @thundercatseddie, @eddiekabsprak, @eduardoandale, @that-weird-girls-blog, @lifesucksheres20bucks, @twoidiotsinl0ve, @mars-14, @jon-is-my-lord, @marsisaplanetyall, @reddieforlove, @adhdtrashmouth.

[mss4msu]

“Do I Wanna Know?” (Chapter 10)

Summary: On a visit to a local nightclub, the lounge singer catches your eye. Soon becoming a regular at the club, the way you look on the dancefloor gets his attention. You begin to hear stories about the notorious crime lord who owns and operates the small nightclub. When your friends worry that you’ve gotten mixed up with a mobster, you wonder if it’s better to be left in the dark and find yourself asking, “Do I wanna know?” if you’re getting involved with one of the most revered mobsters in the city. 

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1235

Warnings: Language, Being tied up in a not fun way, Reference to drugging also more drugging

A/N: OOOOOH BABY WHAT’S GON HAPPEN NEXT

Read the Full Story Here

You were at a loss for words and could feel tears prickling in your eyes as Tony Stark walked forward, cracking his knuckles deliberately as he stepped toward you. 

“Alright, (Y/N),” Tony spat as though your name was poison in his mouth, “You are going to give me the answers you apparently couldn’t give earlier.”

You stared in silence at Tony.

“Did you fucking hear me?” Tony grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back so you were looking straight up at him. 

“Y-y--yes,” you managed to choke out. 

“Good. Now, why did you go to the club,” he drew out the word with a snarl, “last Friday?”

“I wanted to see James.”

“And at the club, you had a few too many drinks and then what happened?”

“I--I went home.”

Tony growled as he yanked your head back harder, “What did you do between the drinks and going home?”

“Nothing? I don’t know!” you yelled out as tears burned their way out of your eyes. 

Tony huffed and snapped the fingers of his free hand. You couldn’t see what was happening, but seconds later you felt a sharp sting in your neck and a coolness flood your veins.

“Let’s try that again, shall we? What did you do at the club after you had your drinks,” Tony sneered. 

Your head began to pound as memories you didn’t know you had suddenly swirled through your head. Tears poured from your eyes as your mouth revealed the scenes that played in your mind. Tony lessened his hold on you with each piece of information you revealed; the winding hallway, the Russian men, the torture, the blood, stumbling back to the car, going home and spending the night sick. 

“What...what did you do to me?” you sobbed. 

“I did nothing more than give you back your memories.”

“Those aren’t mine. That was from a dream,” you recalled, trying to find a logical explanation for the horrors playing in your mind, “It was just a dream.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. As if your imagination could be that powerful,” Tony yanked your head back once more and got so close to you that you could feel his hot breath leaving condensation on your ear, “Guess you still don’t remember your precious Peter Parker slipping you something in your water on your ride home, do ya?”

Your breath caught in your throat and you choked, causing Tony to let go of his hold on you. He stepped back from you, staring down menacingly at your bound body. 

“Bet you thought poor, Peter Parker, who wanted to go get a college degree, was a good kid, didn’t you? You truly are a dumb bitch. Who else did you think was on your side? Maybe….Happy? The man who convinced you to take a bus to see James by yourself in a known crime-ridden neighborhood?” Tony began to laugh maniacally, “Of course the dumbest shit you did was trust James Barnes.”

The scene of James beating that man played in your head as Tony took a long breath in an attempt to stop his laughs. 

“I---I don’t understand,” you meekly got out. 

“What part of this is hard to understand, sweetheart?” Tony’s mocking sweetness was sickening.

You audibly gulped, “Why are you doing this?”

“Why does anybody ever do anything? Revenge,” he had a wicked glint in his eye, “Why don’t I start at the beginning for you. 15 years ago my parents died in what I and the world thought was a freak car accident. Dad had never been one to shy away from drinks at a party and one night he had knocked back a few too many before driving home. The world mourned for the loss of Stark Industries’ namesake. I reluctantly took over the company, which suffered a massive hit in shareholders after the accident. Luckily, with the help of a good friend, I believe you’ve met Steve Rogers, I was able to get the company up and running again with more investors than ever. At least, that’s how it worked for a few years until the lawsuit with the metalworkers of Wakandan Inc. The deaths they suffered due to production of Stark products were catastrophic. Steve thought there was a better way to help them, but I knew paying the fees and severing all ties was the only way to ensure that Stark Industries didn’t go under. Steve left shortly after that, told me he wanted to ‘lay low’ with an old friend. We had our differences, but Steve’s absence in the company was felt by everyone. So I began to look into his new partner to see what I could offer to get him back. James fucking Barnes. At first appearances, he seemed like a club owner just trying to make his own way in the world. Couldn’t for the life of me figure out how working at a nightclub could be any better than working for me. But then I started digging deeper into Barnes’ lifestyle; trips around the world where he would go off the radar for weeks at a time, investments in companies even I don’t have a chance of getting a stake in, and connections with people a measly club owner has no right to know. It was only when I started using more...questionable...sources that I started to get better answers. Those weeks when Barnes would go missing? Apparently high profile people would go missing too. Companies he had stakes in? Their stocks always soared after one of his little trips. And, well, the connections? Those just speak for themselves don’t they. James Barnes makes people go away for a price. Or at least he did until you,” this was the first time Tony had acknowledged you in his whole rant, “decided to walk into his club.”

“Me?”

“The trip Barnes took this week was the first one he has taken in months. And as far as my people know, it’s the first time he actually stuck to an itinerary and didn’t disappear.”

“What about the men I saw?”

“They work for me. Or at least they did. They never reported back after that night. It was the first time I had actually gotten guys into the club to do recon for me, quite a shame really.” 

You decided to hazard one more question, “And what does this have to do with revenge?”

Tony’s face fell and he got so close to you goosebumps formed on your skin where his breath hit, “The son of a bitch killed my parents.”

Your stomach lurched. Everything else Tony had said had sounded like it could have been the plot of a gangster fic, but the way his voice changed when he said that…you knew he was telling the truth. 

“Boss,” one of the masked men, whose voice you now recognized as belonging to Happy, came up behind Tony and tapped him on the shoulder with your phone, “Sorry to interrupt, but we checked her phone and he’s been blowing it up.”

Tony snarled, “Then text him back. Make up an excuse as to why she won’t be….wait….give me that,” Tony snatched the phone out of Happy’s hands and began typing vigorously. 

When he was finished he looked down at you with a twisted grin on his face, “We’re gonna get you to the club after all.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Do I Wanna Know? Tag List:

@mrooks0205​ @shann-the-artist-moon​ @ashtheteenagewitch​ @abschaffer2​  @nootrishus​ @brilliantbellesoares​ @celestialstarshadow​ @yallneedtrek​ @princess15243​ @ivegenerallynoidea​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​

Bucky Barnes Tag List:

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[little-merry-go-round]

There’s a lot of shit that was bothering me lately and i need to get it out of my system. I understand a lot of you don’t wanna read that kind of stuff so i’m tagging discourse and putting the rest of the post under the cut. Hope it’ll work

The first thing i wanna talk about is the way Jack interact with us here on tumblr but also on reddit. Do you remember favouritism drama that happened last february? People were pointing out Jack rebloging from same people all the time, he said he doesn’t do it on purpose, things were talked out and were ok for a while. However we came back to the same place again. I wouldn’t call it necessary favouritism but idk, ignorance maybe? I payed attention who Jack rebloging from, who’s posts he see in reddit vids. Before ya’ll jump on me, i don’t blame artists or people who he interact with at all. I’m glad they post and i hope they continue. The point i’m trying to make is Jack going through most popular most of the times. I don’t know why is this. I tried to ask him, i tried to ignore it, i tried to convince myself that i’m just jealous bitch and he does care about us all still equally. It’s really hard to think that when you see over and over popular creators, who already got good amount of notes, being featured in vids/ rebloged/ interacted with. Again, i don’t blame creators at all. I just feel frustrated that smaller creators doesn’t have chance to be seen, not only by Jack but by anybody really since a lot of people avoid tag to not see tea blogs posts. And then Jack saying in videos that he’s sad creators leaving… Are you surprised? Really? It was going fo so long and nothings changing in that regard.

I remember Jack said something along the line once “it’s better to interact with few than to not interact at all”. That’s true when “few” changes constantly but if it’s same few over and over you shouldn’t be surprised when people feel like worse of a fans and leaving.

“Draw for yourself, not for Jack”. Yeah, i do. I do draw and colour and i’m being creative whenever i have time. I just don’t post that often here anymore. Don’t be hypocrite. You all posting in the tag because you want to be seen. If you wouldn’t be seen you wouldn’t post in tag or even anywhere online. It’s very easy to say “notes doesn’t matter” when you get feedback whatever you post. I don’t want him to interact with everybody. A little bit of variety wouldn’t hurt tho.

I’ll quote something he posted on tumblr early this year: “I know I reblog and interact with certain people here more than others, I don’t think it ever really occurred to me properly because I usually just fly through the tag each day and interact with stuff as I see it and what it pertains to. It’s never been on my mind to do it for some more than others or “play favourites”. Some people are just FAR more active here than others and in the tag way more often, so just by sheer number alone it would make sense that I would see their stuff more as it’s usually more current. I’m sorry if people felt left out or underappreciated as a result of that. It’s a byproduct of things rather than the intent.” First of all I don’t believe he doesn’t recognize people artstyes at this point. Secondly it’s not hard to see the same popular people if you only going through most popular posts.

Another thing that’s bothering me are charity streams. Not that Jack raising money, that’s good. I’m not that much of a bitch. I mean the way streams are handle. Jack seems often unprepared. I don’t talk about games here, but about charity itself. Shouldn’t he know more about them instead of reading what they’re doing from their website? It was especially bothering me with team trees charity because this topic is talked about a lot and it’s really not that hard to find informations about it. “Let’s plant 20mln trees and save the planet!” No hun, it can and will help but it won’t save the planet as you claim.

“You’re going on the board” pissing me off so damn much everytime. I never watch streams if i don’t feel well mentaly because of that board thing mostly. I understand that you wanna reward people somehow, i get where it came from but again, it’s so unfair. Let’s give example. There’s person A who have a good job and earn quite a lot. It’s no problem for them to save thousand or two for charity. They will go on the board for that. There’s person B, who has shitty job, or is unemployed a lot of time. They have health problems and strugling everyday. They still wanna help out and give a dollar for a charity every month. Are you familiar with a biblical story about widow from Luke chapter 21? That’s what i mean with this example. Did you notice the way Jack read donations? How pumped he is when somebody give thousand dollars or at least few hundred and how he rush through one dollar donations? Because i did. Please don’t come to me saying he’s not guilt tripping people because he does. I don’t believe he’s doing it on purpose but don’t tell me you never felt that way. I just don’t believe you.

Forced PMA. This was talked about many times. Jack said it’s not about being happy all the time. Most of the community agree, yet i constantly see PMA = no negativity mentality and Jack incourage that by liking that kind of posts. Jack used to play “serious games” and tried to take opportunities to talk about mental health and about reaching out to friends, parents and getting professional help if it’s needed. I don’t blame him for not playing that kind of games anymore but he switched from that to making meme videos, and God forbid, yelling “a meme a day keeps the depression away”. And people take it seriously. They really do. I saw with my two own eyes on jse discord that somebody said they have depression and they don’t feel too well and another person replied with - go watch some MEMES because a meme a day keeps the depression away hehe. What is this??? Is it really the message you wanna send? Just google those memes. They’re disgusting.

Tea blogs. Again, are you surpriced they’re there? Are you surpriced that when one get deleted another two or three appear? I’m not at all. Because everytime someone try to voice their opinion respectfully (especially more popular people in community) they get anons saying things from “that’s not very pma of you”, “You’re just jealous”, “Jack would be disappointed”, “Jack doesn’t want you here”, “If you don’t like him then leave” to “go kill yourself”. Nobody want to get such lovely message. To avoid that they’re going to tea blogs. Sure, there is a lot of hate there too. Sure, there are people who just wanna talk shit and spread lies. But there are also issues like the ones i wrote above. They won’t disappear if we won’t talk about them. I do care about Jack. I really do. I want him to do well and i want have good time watching his vids. i wanna interact with people who i met in this community. That’s why i’m writing it all, because i believe we’re better than that. I wanna see us improve not go down.

I really like what Jack tweeted and deleted  "We all need love & support in life but also need someone to call us on our shit now and then. Don’t surround yourself with just “yes” people".

[theraddestcowboy]

I’m redoing the companion meme and giving it its own post because I also got tagged in this one and I wanted to write a companion questline because thats adorable, this is my blog and i can spam it if i want to NAME: Kerrian COMPANION PERK: Mostly Pacifist (bonus chance to cripple enemies legs) WEAPON OF CHOICE: Dart Gun, Varmint Rifle with Scope

I THINK WE SHOULD TRAVEL TOGETHER: (first meeting) “Wait, really? Uh…okay!” (Ed-e is already in the party) “Woah, can I check out your Eyebot?” “Awesome, let’s get in trouble.” USE MELEE: “That’s a joke, right?” “If you really want me dead, shooting me would be faster.” USE RANGED: 
“Wanna see me hit a bloatfly at 100 yards?” (doing an impression of Boone) “Yeah, you and me both.” *makes gun sounds* OPEN INVENTORY: “Do I look like I’ve got room for your shit?” (his inventory is full of junk and electronics. he gets overencumbered easily. if you take any of his stuff he gets mad like when you take boone’s hat) (if you put alcohol in his inventory) Promise I didn’t swipe any of your booze when you weren’t looking. “You got any snacks? I’m starving.” (he will eat any snacks you put in his inventory) STAY CLOSE: “Just don’t jump into anything stupid, alright? …Or make any weird smells.“ “Oh, I feel safer already.” “you better know what you’re doing.” KEEP DISTANCE: “Alright, but you’ll miss me soon enough.” “I won’t get in any trouble, promise!​​“ “I’ll scout around.” STEALTH: (If you gave him the stealth suit) *Karen’s voice* “Sneaky sneaky.” (enthusiastically) “You got it.” *hums idle tune*​ BACKUP: ”Quit shoving, tough guy.” “Oh, sorry.​“ BE PASSIVE: “No complaints here.”​ BE AGGRESSIVE: “You haven’t got a better plan than that?​“ USE STIMPACK: “Man, what’s in that stuff?” “Ugh, that’s gonna be sore tomorrow.” “Thanks, I love not being dead.“ WAIT HERE: (outside) “I wonder if there’s any geckos around here.” (indoor) “Ugh, for how long?” FOLLOW ME: “Oh thank God, I was getting so bored.” “Can it wait a sec? I’ve almost got this schematic figured out!” DISMISSED: “Alright, you change your mind you know where I’m at.” (can be found hanging around the garage in Novac) “Yeah, okay…I guess I’ll find something else to do.“ SEND HIM HOME (FOLLOWER BASE): “Yeah, see you at the Fucky 38, then.” (if House is there) “You sure I’ve gotta stay there? Those robots give me the creeps.” ENEMIES (LONG RANGE) “Ugh, Great.“ (if enemies are nonhumanoid) “I think I can get ‘em from here.” (if enemies are humanoid) “Damn, that’s too far for my darts.” “Shit, can we still run?!” “Woah, look out!” ENEMIES (CLOSE RANGE): (if enemies are humanoid) "Naptime!” “Augh, get away!” “Fucking hell, I should’ve just stayed home today!” AGGRESSION: Not aggressive CONFIDENCE: Cowardly/Average after his questline is completed ASSISTANCE: Helps friends and allies Karma: Good PERSONAL QUEST:
[ RUN FOR THE RAILROAD] -Kerrian is in Novac, and if you talk to him he asks you to help him learn to shoot since Boone won’t do it. You can either convince Boone to teach him through dialogue, or if your gun skill is high enough you can teach him yourself. After that, he offers to follow you to help you out and keep learning. -After traveling a bit, he starts a dialogue where he explains that he can turn invisible, but can’t really control it very well. You can ask him more about himself, and find out that he’s wandering around the wasteland because he’s looking for his dad. -Also if you give him the Stealth Suit from Old World Blues, you get a short conversation where he talks about how cool she is and names her Karen. -If you take him into New Vegas, he’ll start a dialogue again, but seem like he changed his mind about what he wants to say. you can either tell him to quit being so wishy washy and bother you later, try to ask him about it which takes a bit to get him to say anything useful, or use a perception check to ask him if it’s got to do with trying to find his dad. -If you choose either of the last two options, he says he wanted to get to new vegas to take a train from there to the east coast, but it looks like the imminent threat from the NCR and Legion is keeping the train from running and he’s not sure what to do. -You can tell him he should try and wait out the conflict, ask why he doesn’t just travel east on foot, to which he responds that if he even managed to survive that trip it’d be years before he’d finally make it to Boston, which he doesn’t have time for, or suggest that he help the player in their travels around the Mojave to try and settle the conflict themselves. -If you choose the third option, he asks if he’s learned enough to help with something that big, and you can either change your mind, tell him he’s learned enough, or point out that he’s been helping plenty up till now and doing fine. The last two options will both result in another short conversation where you can encourage him, he gets very excited and proud of himself, and offers to help out in any way he can. -completing this quest without telling Kerrian to go fuck himself or shut up gives the player a new perk: Not a Sound (His invisibility activates reliably and he’s no longer detectable by enemies when stealthed, and you no longer set off any traps when sneaking) I still tag @sas-afras and @curriersix and whoever else wants to do one of these that hasnt already

[turtle-steverogers]

you’re fuckin (coco)nuts

idek, @suddenly-im-respecsable told me i should become a coconut engineer and then we astral projected for this and somehow it turned into “WRITE A CRACK FIC FOR THIS” and then i did

warnings: dumbassery

ship: platonic sprace, ralbert

editing: nooooo its about FUCKING COCONUTS

word count: 1250 ish

-

“God this is just what I needed,” Race smiled serenely as he settled onto his towel, handing Spot one of the pina coladas he’d gotten from the small stand by their resort.  

A long year spent working extra hours and saving up money had lead the two boys to Oahu, Hawaii for their Spring Break.  Admittedly, it’d still put a significant dent in their wallets, which wasn’t entirely ideal considering they were graduating college in a few months and probably couldn’t afford to go bankrupt.  But, things had been stressful recently and this was self care.  

“Me fucking too, man,” Spot agreed, sitting up and pushing his sunglasses up his nose as he accepted the drink from Race, “and this weather is fucking sexy.”

Race choked on his pina colada, spluttering for a moment before looking at Spot, “Did you just call the fucking weather sexy?”

Spot shrugged, “You got another word for it?  It’s sunny and warm with that perfect cool breeze.  Sexy.”

Race stared at him for a moment before facing the ocean again, shaking his head, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Spot laughed, shifting around on his own towel to look at the ocean.  It truly was beautiful.  The ocean was almost impossibly turquoise and the clear water shimmered softly in the sunlight.  Palm trees surrounded them on all sides, giving the area a pleasantly enclosed feeling.  Like they’d found their own little universe, completely separate from everything else.

Race hummed as he became acutely aware of the sun beating down onto his shoulders and he reached around to fish a bottle of sunscreen out of his bag.  He squirted a fair amount onto his hands and began lathering it onto his skin.

“Lil’ bitch,” Spot coughed, clearing his throat.

Race froze in his actions and shot an incredulous glare at Spot, “You think you’re tougher than the sun? The fucking sun?”

Spot pursed his lips, looking like he wanted to make a comeback, but falling short of an intelligent sounding one.

Race sat up straighter and continued to rub the sunscreen into his shoulders, “That’s what I thought.”

The lapsed into silence, drinking in the view and allowing their stresses to slowly drain from their minds.  At one point, Spot pulled out a book and Race found himself dozing.  They stayed like that for what could have been hours until Spot shut his book pointedly, using it to prod Race awake.

Race opened his eyes slowly, raising his eyebrows, “Can I help you?”

Spot stood up, shaking out his towel and successfully spraying Race with sand, “I’m bored, let’s explore.”

Race huffed indignantly, wiping the sand out of his eyes before standing as well.  He rolled up his own towel and shoved it into his beach bag.  He hastily slipped on his sandals before shouldering his bag and jogging to catch up with Spot, who’d already set out towards the main street of the resort.

They made it all the way to the path that led them away from the beach when a war cry sounded above them.  Alarmed, they froze, heads jerking upwards in search of the source of the cry.  Before Race had a chance to see anything, a large object fell out of the palm tree directly above them, nailing Spot in the head.

Spot let out a grunt, careening forwards onto his knees as his hands flew to his head.

“Spottie!” Race exclaimed, rushing forward to kneel next to him, hands hovering over his shoulders.

“Son of a bitch,” Spot bit out, voice gravelly.  He lifted his head slowly, unfocused eyes fixating on the ground in front of him.  

“What the fuck,” Race muttered, picking up the object that had hit Spot.  It was a fucking coconut.

He looked up again, startling as he made eye contact with a guy.  He had red hair and was wearing a grass skirt over a pair of floral swim shorts.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but a large lei was secured around his neck, swaying slightly in the breeze.  If Race squinted, he could see a small twig crown resting on his head.  As weird as he appeared, there was an unconventional attractiveness to him.

“What the fuck,” Race repeated.  He raised his voice slightly, “Hey! Who the fuck are you and why did you throw a coconut at my friend?”

The guy smiled and flipped down from the tree, landing gracefully in front of Race, “The name’s Albert, I’m the coconut engineer here.”

Race blinked, completely bewildered, gaze landing on the pair of weed vans that Albert was wearing, “You’re...you...what!?”

Albert hopped down into a sit, crossing his legs under him and propping his chin on his hand, “Coconut engineer.”

“Yeah but what the fuck is that and why did it include concussing me,” Spot snapped, still sounding pained.

“I make sure coconuts don’t fall out of trees and injure tourists,” Albert said matter-of-factly, “But you had a bad aura, so I threw a coconut at you.”

“I had a- wait what?” Spot looked vaguely like he wanted to strangle Albert and Race wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t if he were feeling up to it.

“Bad aura,” Albert said, picking up the coconut that he’d thrown at Spot and breaking it open with his bare hands.  He took a long sip of the water inside before continuing, “Looked kinda bruting and I saw you shake sand on Hottie McHottiekins from the spot in my tree.  You deserved it.”

Race choked, “What’d you just call me?”

Albert looked at him innocently, “Hottie McHottiekins.”

Race blushed and Spot groaned, “Oh, no no no, please tell me you’re not considering going out with Mr. Coconuts over here.”

Race ignored him and held out a hand, “The name’s Antonio, but Race is what I go by.”

Albert shook his hand, his grip firm and confident, “Nice to meetcha, Race.  Wanna go get sushi or something later?”

“Sure thing,” Race said, taking out his phone and handing it to Albert, who put his phone number in the contacts, “text me.”

XXX

Spot blinked open his eyes, the bright morning sunlight bleeding in through the blinds.  His head still ached from the coconut fiasco of the previous day, but after icing it for a bit and taking some ibuprofen, it was feeling significantly better.

He rolled over and dragged himself out of bed, stumbling down the hallway a few paces to Race’s room.  He knocked once before opening the door.

“Morning, I was thinking we could-” He cut himself off, eyes narrowing when he realized that Race wasn’t in his room.  In fact, Race’s bed didn’t look slept in at all.

He pulled out his phone, hurriedly pulling up Race’s contact.  Had Race even made it home from his date with Albert last night?

He was about to phone Race when the door to their small beach house opened.  Spot whirled around to find Race staring at him, wide eyed with a hand still on the doorknob.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt and a few small hickeys littered his chest.  His hair was sticking up on top and we was wearing a pair of pajama pants that Spot was certain he didn’t own.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, the air thick with anticipation.  Then Spot lowered his phone from his ear, which he belatedly realized he was still holding up.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, “You fucked the crazy coconut guy.”

Race’s face turned bright red.

-

lmao welp i told myself i’d finish some greaser au shit and chap 10 of fugitives but this happened instead LOL at least im finally on break and can grind some shit out,,, maybe titanium too o.O

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @technically-whizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

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[serenagaywaterford]

Okay, but June manipulates Serena as much as Serena betrayes June. June is not exactly an honest woman. I understand why she does it, I obviously do, she needs to survive. But, so does Serena, and it's not fair to blame the one and exonerate the other for the same thing. I mean, come on, telling Serena that Nichole took after her was blatant (and quite brutal, in my opinion) emotional manipulation. She is as much to blame for what's happening now as is Serena.

Hi Anon. Did you mean to send this to me? Or another blog? I’m not trying to be cute. I’m genuinely curious cos I totally agree?

I’m not sure if you’re new to my blog (I’ve got a lot of new followers in the last few days) but I’ve said everything you’ve said here. A lot, in my tags. I don’t disagree! I think in even one of my most recently reblogs, I reposted tags that actually said exactly this sentiment, that they use emotions as weapons against each other. I’ve even said June’s manipulations were going to blow up in her face. There was another post I made where I tacked on the Bad At Math troubled bird to a post about June enabling Serena’s delusions for her own potential gain.

I too believe that June is partly to blame for the path Serena is on right now. She’s done nothing but constantly enable Serena’s grief and motherhood delusions, just the same as Fred is. With the added pimping out of a vulnerable, damaged woman to her abusive/violent/rapist/cheating/manipulative husband who mutilated her which really, really fucking bothered me. (All while having that stupid voiceover about not hating him that same ep. Which again like I said in my tags, made sense in S1 but makes ZERO sense now considering what has happened in S2.) I was actually really grossed out by June doing that. It’s not that Serena hasn’t done worse to June personally and women as a whole, but I hoped June was a better person. She’s not. She’s pretty awful to do something like that. It just doesn’t seem like the June that we’re supposed to believe she is. It’s not empowerment; it’s exactly the same shit Serena’s mother basically said to her and we were all like “HOW HORRIBLE! What a bad mother!” but when June says the same general thing, people are like, “Ooh! Girl power!”

-_-

June and Fred both want something from her and don’t really care about her as a person in any way. (I’d argue June does actually have a sliver of real affection (for lack of a better word) for Serena but that’s another story.) I also believe that Serena is suffering serious psychological issues and that is informing her shitty decisions and vulnerability to manipulation. I’m not saying it’s all that, cos she’s always been selfish, entitled, willfully ignorant, hateful, ideologically blinded, etc. but it’s contributory. 

(I don’t wanna go deep into how sad it is that June is dehumanizing other women, even the awful ones. (She’s using all the women around her for her own selfish goal. I don’t truly believe June is this selfless saviour of oppressed women.) Like, I think the showrunners need to read some Audre Lorde, or at least this article. It is not empowering for women to just do to other women what has been done to them. Revenge isn’t justice and it won’t bring real change.

“For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.”

Anyway. Enough about how the show is failing itself.)

I could possibly try to defend June’s behaviour by saying, “Well, she was appealing to Serena’s motherhood more so to inspire her to see the system from a mother’s perspective instead of her own and inspire her to destroy it as a team.” But using logic with someone who is so messed up is a gamble. And June should never play poker. She sucks at it. 

Also as a side note, but still related to her Serena-manipulations: June is way too overconfident in her own abilities. She’s so arrogant constantly this season and it’s just ugly. That little voiceover in the last episode “I did this.” NO YOU FUCKING DIDN’T. You didn’t do shit. Rita and the Marthas did it. Lawrence did it. EMILY did it. The only thing you did was convince Serena to let Nichole go... which you likely wouldn’t have had to do if you hadn’t spent half an hour carving Latin into your bedroom wall after Rita said you gotta leave right away. Rita was the one who saw you and Nick playing happy families and decided to do something. Sure, after she amends it with “We did this.” Too little, too late, June. We all been knew that you think you’re hot shit. June just is constantly acting as if she’s untouchable--which, cos of the way this show is structured, she has been. Her plot armour is so thick that of course the character thinks she’s an invincible superhero. She needs a wake up call, tbh.

Anyway, I don’t mind June getting a little darker and being her flawed self, cos she’s never been a perfect person. Not even close, which is obvious esp in flashbacks. I’d love them to explore more of her flaws. I don’t mind her using dirty tricks and fucking up. I just don’t want her to lose herself* or be shielded from her own terrible decisions simply by the show’s structure and her being the main protag.

It’s so funny to have people defending Serena in my inbox. It’s such a ... refreshing thing? So, thank you!!! I’m glad there are people out there that see things less black and white, and actually defend this beautiful, fascinating, problematic character. :)

[clairecrive]

"Insecurities" - Eames x reader (Part 2) [Requested]

I'm sorry for the long wait. I made it super long to make up for it. Anon and @kingarthurscat I hope this is what you had in mind when you made the request or that at least you like it. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog (let me know if you wanna be added)

A/n: Prompts are in bold.

The very reason you had been picked to be a part of the group was your ability to became whoever they needed you to be. It wasn't quite like Eames who could really become that person, it was more like an interpretation of a character. Like an actor would do, only you wouldn't be performing in a movie or a theatre. Usually very shy and stubborn you weren't so keen on putting yourself out there the way they had asked you to. But the need for money and your acting skills collected through the high school years as a way of getting more credits did the trick and with a little convincing on Dom's part, you were one of them.

Tonight was no different, you left your shy and awkward self in your hotel room, ready to be Sandy, a confident outspoken entrepreneur, for the rest of the night. The job was very easy to be honest, even though you usually hated when they used you just for your "womanly weapons" as Dom called them. However, being the only woman on the team, your input was required and there wasn't much you could do.

The plan was very simple: distract the wealthy, sneaky Arabian entrepreneur while Eames took whatever information he needed and then make your exit quickly and smoothly when Eames would give you the signal that it all went according to plan.

Flirting with wealthy men was quite the same every time. If you asked them about their job or a thing they have that makes them proud you could have them talking for hours on end. You would just have to throw a smile or a small laugh at the right time and that would be it. Easy job right? The fact that sometimes the men would be smoking hot it's just a bonus. They were boring but at least they were pretty to look at.

Much to your delight, this night, Azir was not only very handsome but he had a few interesting ideas too. Maybe you had been enjoying yourself too much, really engaged in a conversation with him, that you didn't notice Eames trying to catch your attention at first.

Over the years, you had come up with a complex sign language that would allow you to communicate in tricky situations without making a sound. Just a movement of an eye or a finger and the message or warning had come across. So when you noticed the English lad walking towards you while scrunching his nose, you knew that he needed a diversion.

"What is happening here?" He approached you and Azir that was quite startled by Eames' appearance. Thinking he was going for an angry/jealous boyfriend you played along.

"What are you doing here?" You asked feigning a shocked expression.

"I told you that I had a business meeting tonight, but you failed to mention that you'd also be here flirting with a stranger." He explained getting worked up.

"First of all, this is not a stranger, his name is Azir. Second, I didn't tell you because I didn't think you'd have cared."

"In what twisted universe I would not care about my fucking fiancée flirting with a man that's not me?!"

"Wait, what? What are you talking about mate? She doesn't have a ring." Azir chimes in, apparently disturbed by the idea of being accused to flirt with an engaged woman. Nice to see you have morals Azir, not just a pretty face uh.

"Where is your ring Y/N?" Eames inquired staring intently at your naked ring finger

"Funny you should ask, still keeping up with this game I see. It's not endearing anymore, cut it."

"What the hell are you on about?" He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown three heads, glancing towards Azir for support.

"I was so thrilled that after eight years you had finally found the guts to propose to me, that I couldn't wait to share the news with everyone I have ever shared a word with. Also to let them see the beautiful ring you gave me. Imagine my surprise when Karen comes up to me and say: "Do you know that the diamond in your engagement ring is fake?" Of course, I didn't believe her, she had always been jealous of me. But she insisted so to prove her wrong, I stepped on it. Diamonds, real diamonds, are unbreakable. But the one you gave me fell apart like a bread crumble." For added emphasis you turned to Azir, "can you believe it? A fake engagement ring!"

The poor lad had been swapped in this mess and was so lost that if someone had asked him his name right now, he probably couldn't be able to answer right.

"So what if the diamond was fake? My intentions behind the gesture were not."

"Do you even still love me?" You asked scoffing at his words. Noticing three bulky men storming into the hall you were in, you gather your things and without glancing towards both men, you stormed off into a hallway on your right knowing that Eames was hot on your trail. You turn around to see if you were safe but before you could check his hand wraps around your arm and drags you into a dark room to your left. The door closed behind you leaving you standing in the dark catching your breaths.

"Were they still behind us?" You whisper just in case they were close. You couldn't see him in the dark but even if you felt him close to you, when he put his hand on your mouth to shush you it still caught you off guard. Well then, I'll take that as a yes. Even if you couldn't see his face, being this close to him that you could feel his breath on your cheek, made your mind wander and suddenly you were thankful for the dark otherwise your reddening cheeks would sorely stand out and Eames would tease you endlessly.

Turns out that you spoke too soon seeing as, while you were lost in your daydream, he must have drawn out his phone, because a light suddenly shone in the room. It was a janitor closet because at your feet there were cloths and buckets. It was indeed a small space as you've presumed, your chests were touching and if he wasn't taller than you, your noses or worse mouths would too. This realisation certainly didn't help your blushing situation.

"Is there a reason why you're blushing like that?" He asked and really, you knew it was coming.

"Can we get out, please? I think we're safe." You said trying to play it cool. The twinkle in his eyes made his amusement very clear to you, nevertheless he spared you and moved his hand to the door handle. Much to your dismay, it wouldn't budge, even when he tried with more force. Eventually, he had to stop and admit defeat. He turned to you and almost as if you had rehearsed it you exclaim at the same time:

"Well shit."

Groaning you lower yourself to the ground while he wrote something on the phone, probably asking for some help but you know that you'd be here for a while if you had to wait for one of the guys to rescue you. Sensing your discomfort he sat beside you and you knew that he was going to confront you about your weird behaviour. Being observant was part of his job, nothing went past him unnoticed, he was the best in his field for a reason after all.

"So, since we have a lot of time to spare, will you tell me what's wrong darling?" As you predicted he asked softly. Having worked alongside one another for quite some time together with his observant self, made Eames one of the person who knew you best. It wasn't something you were happy about but it was a fact.

"Oh that was Sandy, Eames. Don't need to worry about a fuss over a fake ring." You joked trying to deflect. Classic textbook move and he knew it.

"That was a good stunt out there, not going to lie, but you know I wasn't talking about that. You've been acting weird since we've come out of the room." He insisted. You knew Eames so you were conscious that if you told him to let it go he wouldn't press you but for some reason, you needed to know if he saw you. I mean even if he did, it wasn't a big deal right? No one was perfect and as you were painfully aware of his annoying habits now he knew that you hadn't a perfect body. You could live with that. Conforming to the standard norms of beauty wasn't something you had to do. Besides, nothing was ever going to happen between you. So even if you had a crush on the man and your constant bickering was more subtle flirting, why do you care so much about what he thinks of you? Yes, he probably has been with a lot of breathtaking women but that didn't mean anything. You couldn't compare yourself to other, imaginary in this case, women. It's not a healthy thing to do and besides everyone is beautiful in their own way. You knew that it's just that most of the times you have trouble applying that way of thinking to yourself.

Well then, here goes nothing. This pep talk is pointless if you don't address the elephant in the room. And so gathering all your courage, you did. But wait- how exactly am I going to go about this?

"So, you know that I'm usually very quiet and reserved right?"

"Yes, I know how important your private space is to you. I promised I've not touched anything." He said reminiscing that time when you literally went ballistic when you saw him entering into your room without your permission.

"I know you've learned your lesson don't worry, I wasn't referring to that."

"Then what's the matter?" 

"I'm not saying you did it on purpose but have you, by any chance, stumbled upon a very naked me early today in the bathroom?" I finally let out not meeting his eyes. I think it's a fair question to make, sure the answer won't change the fact that he saw me if he did but at least I'll stop wondering about it. However, Eames was known to be very unpredictable so you hoped that he wouldn't feel offended about it nor that he'd tease you for it. For a little while, he didn't say anything but you could feel his eyes on you. Knowing him he was probably studying you and thinking about what to say.

"Will you go mad hatter crazy on me if I tell you that I accidentally took a peak? I honestly thought that you were done and telling me that I could enter when you opened the door. However, I didn't do it maliciously or anything. It just happened, I'm sorry." He explained confirming your assumptions. So he did see you. Now what? However stupid it may sound, you believed him when he said that it was an accident. How different could my body from others anyway? Pretending to not be affected by his confession you just shrugged your shoulders muttering a quiet "it's okay". Needless to say, it was not okay. How were you going to look at him now that you knew he's seen you in your most vulnerable state? Ugh, why did you have to be so complexed? Couldn't you be just as easy going as Sandy? Life would surely be easier.

"If it's okay, then why won't you look at me, darling?" He insisted. Gosh, why won't he let this go?

"There's literally no light in here, how do you know if I'm not looking at you?"

"Because I know you and apparently this held a deeper meaning to you than you want me to know. You should know by now though, that I notice everything. Besides, how can we still work together if you refuse to look at me?"

"I can pretend to be a different person then so there's no problem." you mutter jokingly

"There's no need to pretend with me. We're room buddies!" He said making you laugh. He could be so silly sometimes.

"You can always be yourself with me you know. To be honest, you should never be afraid to be you but I know that that's a tough thing to do. However, I thought I was part of the gang now. That you trusted me and all."

"I do trust you, Eames. I wouldn't be working with you if I didn't. And yes you're part of the gang but neither of them has seen me naked you naked."

"And that changes things how?"

"You have seen me in my most vulnerable and truest form. No filter, no pretending no anything. I can't imagine I was a very pleasant view. I'm just ashamed, that's all."

"You shouldn't be. I didn't think you'd be so insecure about yourself, that only proves how good at your job you are, honestly, but if it makes you feel better, I really like what I saw." 

"Yeah sure. Don't need to flatter me to make me feel better. I'm not delusional."

"No, but it seems that you're blind. I thought that my scandalous and obvious flirting was a dead giveaway of me liking you."

"Oh shut up, you flirt with every living thing. It does not make me special." You sassed because it was true. You actually thought he was into Arthur before realizing that he was like that, flirting seemed to be the only way of communication he knew.

"You don't need my validation to consider yourself special. You are no matter what I or any other guy says. Although, you shouldn't really question me. You know I'm always right."

"Could your ego be bigger?"

"Hey, I'm trying to help you here. No need to insult my ego. But it's not the only big thing I have if you know what I mean."

"You know what? I really appreciate your wise words but I think it's best if we wait for whoever you called in silence. Your ego is already sucking up all the air in this cubicle." you said nudging his shoulder letting him know that you were joking. Who would have guessed that he could manage to make your doubts disappear just with a few silly words?

He seemed to have understood because he wrapped his arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder, getting comfortable beside him. The silence between you now wasn't uncomfortable but very welcomed, you knew he wouldn't be quiet for long so you enjoyed it while it lasted, your insecurities long forgotten.