#yknow i think he should get headaches too

[toffeesbabbles]

For the sake of the experiment, I'm I right

no worries he's fine

[egberts]

You should def ask the mystery plumber all those questions! He might not say anything against the prev owners, but I'd def tell him his phone line is busted and try to get a new # or email so you can reach him again. You can ask him for his work history on the house or any records/documentation. He might not say anything against the owners (& I wouldn't approach him that way), but the docs could speak for themselves, yknow? Good luck, this all seems like a headache and a half!

well, this will be the final update of the night: mystery plumber said he got a phone alert that it was time to service our sewer because he's been doing it every six months for over five years. he said "you don't have to replace the pipe but replacing clay pipes is a good idea" lowkey I think he was trying to deter us because he didn't want to lose his six month contract. he also still advised us not to use the washing machine which means... he also thinks it's still a problem? but he told us to cancel the repiping because it would cost too much? (again, really feels like he didn't want to lose his contract here but he was nice so i don't assume malicious intent?) and then he said he was friends with the previous owners and the sewer was the only known problem with the house, which means it was known and undisclosed but he's their friend and idk if he'd go on record because of that. he also told us 1. he lives around the corner and 2. he drives by our house twice a day and sometimes wondered if he should come offer service/explain the situation but he never did it. he also couldn't explain why his phone wasn't working the other day because it's working now. literally just what kind of clownery have we gotten in to 😭

[luis-serra-kennedy]

okay bear in mind my co writer for this has been a strong painkiller it's raw a little rough around the edges yknow but it's Serrennedy being terminally stupid and Leon crying a lot and Luis's grandfather yelling at him for being a slut and awake but sweet family time (also pregnancy tests taking 2 hours for results is historically accurate, this AU is set a few years before the quicker/easier ones were a thing)

“Go away, Luis!” Leon barks when Luis knocks on the bedroom door. “I'm done trying to eat your shitty cooking and I'd rather die in this goddamn bed than let you drag me to a hospital. Fuck Spain. Again.”

“I'm not trying to make you eat or go to the hospital anymore, I promise. I have a surprise for you. If I can come in?”

“Fine. Whatever. It's your house.”

“I'm hoping something more familiar might stay down better than what I've been trying to feed you?” Leon sits up and accepts the bag of food, McDonald's, as a peace offering, with a small smile. Luis just stands by the bed awkwardly while Leon starts eating. “Can I sit? Or do you still need space? I think we need to talk about something, if you're not feeling too horrible right now.”

“Yeah, you can sit,” Luis sits on the bed next to Leon, but still keeps a little bit of distance between them. “I know why you want to talk.”

“Oh. You do? That makes this easier.”

“Yeah. You want to break up because I suck at being a boyfriend. Dead bedroom for weeks because I haven't been in the mood. You take me to Spain with all these grand plans. I get sick and fuck it all up. Your grandpa's so important to you and I know you thought he'd like me, but he doesn't. He hates me because I'm just hiding in here instead of even trying to spend time with him.”

“Don't be stupid. He doesn't hate you,” Something about Luis's demeanor is just a little bit different from when he left, but Leon can't quite figure out what it is. “And I'm definitely not going to dump you. I'd marry you tomorrow, if it weren't for the headache the tabloids would make of it.”

When Leon finishes up his food, he scoots over and starts ramming his head against Luis's shoulder. Luis wasn't willing to make the first move and touch Leon, afraid it might piss him off again. But with Leon taking initiative with the ramming, Luis finally feels comfortable wrapping an arm around Leon's back and kissing the top of his head.

Luis smells so fucking good. He must have bought a new cologne or something. He's never smelled bad, aside from after smoking, but he's never smelled so good that he wants to sit and huff his clothes for hours. Suddenly Leon is crying, just because the smell is way too good. No, there is no way he's crying over that, there has to be something else. Maybe he's still worried he's going to get dumped, because he doesn't understand how Luis is being so nice to him when he's spent the past two days screaming at Luis to fuck off and saying he hates Spain. He should be getting yelled at right now, not getting a gentle arm around him and the top of his head kissed.

“Are you sure you don't want to break up with me?”

“I'm sure. I promise. And don't you dare try and say you're sorry for how you've been acting. I… Uh, I think it actually may be my fault…”

“Shut up. You tried. When I threw up a couple days before we left, you were the one trying to talk me out of going, and I said it felt like some random freak thing and I'd be fine. Really thought it was. You had no idea the travel would make me sicker and bitchier.”

“I'm not sure this is actually about the travel… I didn't go out just to get you food. I, ah, I was talking to my grandfather and he made what he thought was a joke about you, but it really wasn't a joke like he thought.”

“He made a joke about me? You said he didn't hate-”

“Don't cry, mi amor. He doesn't hate you. What he said, along the lines of it seeming like he would be a great grandfather if I had brought a girlfriend home instead, because your moods and nausea were reminding him of when my mother was pregnant with me. Suddenly I felt like an idiot, because the boyfriend I brought home could have been pregnant. I got you pregnant,” If the words were coming from anyone other than Luis, they'd just send a wave of dread through Leon. But it's Luis... “I mean, I think I did. I'm not certain, but I bought some tests for you to take. But I'm pretty sure.”

“Okay.” Leon says, still processing things, not sure what else to say.

“Okay? I thought you'd be freaking out a little more. Or maybe that's just because I'm freaking out and projecting on you. Or maybe… you are freaking out on the inside and just hiding it, you are the strong, silent type, aren't you? No matter, just go take the tests, no point worrying until we know for sure.”

“Just shut up and give me the fucking tests! These stupid things are like two hours, I need to get this show on the road.”

Leon doesn't exit the bathroom immediately after getting the kits set up. He gives himself a minute to be emotional and shed a few tears. And question why the fuck he desperately wants these pregnancy tests to be positive. It has to be because it'll make things make sense. He's not dying, just pregnant. Yeah, that's it. He just wants the simple, straightforward explanation for all his symptoms.

Luis is waiting for him right outside the door when he finally leaves.

“You got the tests set up okay?”

“Yeah! I'm not an idiot, I can follow basic fucking directions. Not even the first time I've used one of these. I'm gonna go lay down. Alone.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come let you know when the tests are ready?” Leon nods. “If you need anything sooner, just yell and I'll come.”

All of Leon's energy disappears when his head hits the pillow. Those tests better be positive, because if he isn't pregnant, he's probably dying or something. He's never felt this exhausted. Even with his head spinning with anxiety, he falls asleep quickly. He's out cold until some knocks on the door wake him up and he shouts that Luis can come in.

“So the tests are done?”

“Yes,” Luis is back to being incredibly cautious, so he walks into the room but doesn't sit down or try to touch Leon. “I think this is good news. You're not sick, you're not being a shitty boyfriend, you're just,” Luis has to pause because he's getting choked up. “Carrying my baby, mi amor. We're having a baby.”

“No we're not! Right now you're at the peak of your career. You've got so much shit you need to do, and you also deserve some time to just enjoy your success without more responsibilities piled on your plate. I'm not having your baby right now, I don't want to feel guilty about ruining your life.”

“Do you remember our first night together? Because I do, every second. I came in my pants on your motorcycle, then I gave you the best head of your life, and then, most importantly, we got high and talked. You said that my album better be a success, so that I could buy you a big house and we could start having kids soon. And I said that if you were really being serious, I'd make it happen within a year. I'd buy a house and we could start trying ASAP, sooner if the album was a hit and I got a big check, a bit later if I only had the acting money to rely on. I was being serious. You're way more important than my career, don't even think about it. I want a baby as soon as you're ready for one. If you want this now…” Luis smiles and tucks a lock of Leon's hair behind his ear and gives him a quick kiss on the lips, short but sweet. “Then this is the happiest day of my life. But if this is too soon for you, that's okay. I can be patient. I stuck it out a decade before success in music, I can stick it out a year for a baby.”

“I'm ready. Been ready since you bought the house, talking about how perfect it would be for having kids. I know you'll be a good dad, all I fucking want right now is to see you holding a baby, our baby, and looking at her life she's the only thing in the world and singing to her and…” Leon is softly crying again. “But I'm so scared this is too early and I'll never get to see that because you're just going to resent us for fucking your life up and you're not going to hold her like that and sing, you won't love her like you're supposed to.”

“Her? Her. You want a girl. Me too. If you're having a girl, she's going to be my little princess. Everything she wants. Whole wardrobe of princess clothes, cutest nursery money can buy, I'll be playing with Barbies and having tea parties everyday,” There's so much warmth in Luis's voice that Leon would have no trouble believing he meant it, if it weren't for the fact that Luis was also an actual actor too. He's still pretty sure Luis means it, just not quite certain. “Same goes for if it's a boy. I don't care what the baby's like. Girl or boy. Playing with action figures or dolls. Football or ballet. Whatever they're into, I'll be into. I'll love them the way I'm supposed to. I promise. I already do.”

“Okay,” Leon says, tears finally slowing. “We're having a baby. In… Shit, how long? You remember how long it's been since I let you top?”

“About a week shy of two months,” Luis says with no delay. Leon gives him a questioning look. “I have a very good memory when it comes to things I've done with you. To you. Things you've done to me. You. I love you.”

“You better love me. I'm giving birth to your kid in seven months. Christ. This is real. You should go tell him he'll be a great grandpa.”

“Leon, are you sure?”

“Uh, if you think he'll take it well. I know it's a lot to drop on him. First you bring home a boyfriend to meet him and he thinks he's never getting great grandkids, now he's learning that somehow you've got a pregnant boyfriend. You can ease him into it instead of telling him now. Or just never tell him. Say I'm really just sick, in seven months call him and say we had a kid from a surrogate. I don't want to fuck up your relationship with him.”

“Lying to him would fuck things up far more than the truth. He'll take it fine. Probably better than he took it when I turned 18 and told him I was moving to France to be a musician instead of applying to med school! But seriously, please don't worry. He's not going to hate you because of this, he's not like that. I promise it will go fine.”

Leon is curled up in a ball sobbing and hyperventilating when Luis comes back to the bedroom, because it did not go fine. Leon doesn't know how bad, but he knows it was bad. All he could hear was a lot of very angry sounding Spanish from the other side of the door. Luis's arms are around him almost superhumanly fast.

“Shh, you're okay, you're safe. I'm here. Everything is okay. Can you talk to me?”

“I just hate yelling,” Leon wraps his arms around Luis and squeezes tight, nails digging into the skin of Luis's back, probably hard enough to hurt him. But the squeezing and Luis's scent are enough to ground him so he can try to breathe normally and talk. “Bad memories.”

“I'm sorry. I got yelled at, but that's okay. No one is yelling at you. No one is mad at you. Don't worry about a thing.”

“I know no one yelled at me, that's the problem. I hate other people yelling. Reminds me of when I was a kid.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Or I can just hold you, or distract you, or-”

“My parents. Bio parents. Their marriage was fucked. They screamed at each other all the time. I'd hide in my closet and cover my ears but I could still hear them. Sometimes they'd throw shit at each other. They didn't yell at me. Just each other, but it was still scary. That's what I think about when I hear someone yelling. Someone yelling at you. Being a scared kid in a closet, helpless. Break up with me. I can't be the reason someone's yelling at you. Just find a girl to get pregnant so you'll have his approval.”

Leon isn't being entirely truthful. He was frequently the target of his father's anger, any time his mom got fed up and stormed out. Krauser liked yelling at him too. But Luis doesn't need to know that right now. Leon already feels too exposed just talking about his parents yelling at each other, he doesn't want to spill anything more. Luis will have to know eventually, when something else inevitably breaks him again, but not right now.

“No. No, no, no, no, no. I love you more than anything. We're having a baby together! You are not a wedge between us. He doesn't disapprove of you. He's just pissed at me for repeating one of my deadbeat father's mistakes and accidentally getting someone pregnant. Most of the yelling was just about how I better step up and take damn good care of you, and he'll never want to see my face again if I walk out on you or don't treat you well enough. He is happy too, excited that he will be a great grandfather. Just disappointed in me because he raised me to be more careful and plan before starting a family, not to make a stupid mistake like accidentally getting someone I hadn't even been dating long pregnant.”

“It's not your fault. I told you not to worry about pregnancy, you were only careless because I told you to be.”

“I should have realized sooner. For weeks you've seemed… Different. Eating more, taking naps, and your whole demeanor has just seemed off. I noticed all these things, why didn't I realize what it all meant? I'm so damn stupid. If I had just put the pieces together sooner, you would be home right now.”

“I noticed too. I just pretended none of it was real and tried to power through it because I assumed I was getting sick and couldn't handle that and hoped if I kept my head in the sand I'd magically feel better. Pregnancy wasn't on my radar, I mean I really thought those damn pills would work-” Leon suddenly stops talking and pulls away from Luis. “Fuck.”

Luis knows what's happening immediately, but even with lightning fast reflexes, he can't grab the bowl on the nightstand fast enough and Leon starts vomiting directly onto the bed. It's fucking humiliating, but once he starts, he can't stop.

“You're okay, mi amor, you're okay,” Luis whispers. He holds his hair back and rubs soothing circles on his back. While Leon violently sobs and throws up. “Just get everything out, don't worry, you're okay.”

“Sorry,” Leon chokes out, when he's finally done puking up all his stomach contents. “I'm so nasty.”

“Don't be sorry,” Luis says to the still clammy and trembling Leon. “You're shaking like a leaf, corazon. You feel like you can stand..?”

“With help.”

“Then come on! I think you'll feel a little better after getting cleaned up.”

“Is he still out there? I'm not going to do a walk of shame past him. I'm already embarrassed enough.”

“I'll go ask him to step out for a bit, he'll understand.”

Leon doesn't like someone being told not to go somewhere in their own damn home for him, and he doesn't like the thought of needing help just to walk to the bathroom. But he knows Luis isn't backing down, so he doesn't object when Luis goes out to talk to his grandfather, nor does he when Luis comes back and helps him to his feet. He clings to Luis, because he is shaky and needs to stabilize himself somehow. He could probably make it on his own if he stayed seated for a few minutes, but Luis wasn't going to accept anything less than Leon immediately showering.

Luis guides Leon's body down onto the toilet and turns the shower water on to start warming up. “I'll be right back, I'm just going to go get you clean clothes. Don't get up by yourself.”

Not wanting an ER trip resulting from him losing his balance or slipping in the shower, Leon listens and stays seated. He's facing the sink, where there's still several positive pregnancy tests resting. He'd believed Luis when he said they were all positive, but actually seeing them for himself stirred up something in him. Worried it'll get him overemotional and crying again, he forces his eyes away from the sink and starts getting undressed.

That's a mistake, because looking down at his body also makes him emotional. It's changed so much in so little time. Luis had affected it even before pregnancy; the new relationship caused him to be a lot less disciplined about his fitness, often skipping workouts in favor of spending time with his new boyfriend. So his abs were already fading when he got pregnant. Whatever's left of them is gone, hidden underneath the bloating… His chest looks a little bigger too. And his hips and thighs are definitely bigger, though he already knew that because he'd been trying to pretend that his jeans weren't feeling tighter than usual for the past few weeks.

Finally Luis returns to rescue him from his own thoughts. [insert the gay ass monologue abt Luis's body I'm struggling to write]

Even though Leon is feeling more stable and not worried about falling, Luis still insists on getting in the shower with him and hovering, just in case. When they're done, Leon ignores the clean shirt set out for him and instead grabs Luis's dirty shirt off the floor.

“You smell so good today,” Leon says when they're done, ignoring the clean shirt sitting out for him and instead picking up Luis's dirty shirt off the floor and putting it on. “Some weird hormone bullshit.”

“That's flattering. Hey, can I try something? Carry you?”

“You better not drop me!”

Leon is more afraid of being picked up and carried than he's willing to admit. The last time a man picked him up… Krauser always just picked him up with no warning and threw him over his shoulder with no warning, like he was a sack of grain. Then he'd slam him down on some surface, deliberately making it as painful for Leon as possible.

Luis isn't as strong as Krauser or Leon (at least not as strong as Leon at his peak fitness) but he's in good shape, it's a part of the whole famous hot guy thing, and doesn't struggle to lift Leon. He cradles Leon gently, holding him bridal style, and walks from the bathroom to the couch painstakingly slowly.

“Stay here a minute, baby,” Luis says, lowering Leon down onto the couch. “I need to go get clean sheets and blankets on the bed before you go lay down again.”

“Wait,” Leon grabs Luis's wrist before he turns around to walk away. “I think I want to stay out here? Watch a movie or something. Your grandpa can come out here too. I know it's not the kind of thing that you planned for all of-”

“No, no, it's a perfect idea! Do you need anything? More pillows? Blanket? Whatever you need, I'll get it.”

“I'm fine, just need you.”

“I'm getting you a snack and a drink in case you change your mind,” Luis grabs the TV remote and tosses it to Leon. “You pick what we watch.”

Leon flips through some channels absent-mindedly, not really caring what they watch. When Luis comes back and sits down, Leon gets comfortable. He sprawls out on the couch, laying on his side, resting his head in Luis's lap. Luis alternates between petting Leon's hair and his stomach. Eventually they're joined by Luis's grandfather, who takes a seat in the armchair and starts talking. Leon regrets not going back to bed; he feels so awkward because his introduction to the man ended with Luis ushering him off to the bathroom to throw up before he said a word, and now he's talking and Leon can't understand a word. He was so stupid to think he'd be accepted by Luis's grandfather and feel like he belongs here, he doesn't know how to be a part of a normal family. Even if Luis's grandfather spoke English or he spoke Spanish, Leon would be floundering right now. He just looks up to Luis helplessly.

“He says that he's really happy you're sitting out here with us, because he wants to get to know the man who made all his grandson's dreams come true, who also happens to be the man currently carrying his first great grandchild. You don't need to do anything to earn his approval, you already have it,” Luis translates as Leon starts tearing up and tries hiding his face on Luis's leg, and his grandfather keeps talking. “He also says you shouldn't be embarrassed about crying. Or falling asleep, or getting sick. You know he was around my grandmother when she was pregnant with my mother, and around my mother when she was pregnant with me. He's seen all this before, that's how he figured this out before we did. He- No, we. We both just want to make sure you're taken care of and feeling as good as possible, we don't care that I had to change some plans.”

[okthatsgreat]

If the character asks are still going- Ryoma please? :3

@jolliestlolli DOUBLE THE RYOMA HEADCANONS !!!!!!

headcanon a (realistic):

hands are literally always in his pockets. he is constantly wearing leather jackets or hoodies, lots of long sleeves and LOTS of pockets. genuinely kind of unsure what to do with his hands if he's wearing something without them. i like to imagine ryoma hardly ever uses his hands to talk, and he's a very stoic storyteller. maybe the occasional "drag" of his "cigarette" but never many gestures!

such a dry texter. it is soooo hard to keep up a phone conversation with him and he's honestly not even trying to get you to stop talking to him he just texts how he speaks and uses zero punctuation LMAO

headcanon b (may not be realistic but it is hilarious):

you cant jumpscare this guy LMFAO. his classmates try to prank him by scaring him once he turns the corner but he just continues to walk past them like nothing happened. genuinely awful sense of urgency because he just doesn't scare that easily. like he's able to look up at something obviously dangerous and go "oh i should probably start running now" but he doesnt have that same adrenaline that the others have yknow??

postgame is most certainly a huge uphill battle for him in terms of finding hobbies, but i like to think he is definitely still active! he tries getting into some kind of routine which means a lot of morning jogs in areas that aren't super populated lol. when he musters up the energy i reckon he goes marathon running! i also don't think he listens to music lol. i think he just straight up runs

headcanon c (heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends):

i think deep down ryoma is a very scared kid and he definitely knows that about himself. even if he wanted to start having hope again, he is too terrified of having that hope crushed all over again. this is a kid that literally CAN NOT withstand another heartbreak of that magnitude again, and the only way to preserve that is to avoid being happy. i also just think he was an extremely paranoid person during his time running from the mafia, meaning a lot of his old habits have seriously stuck with him. he sleeps with a knife under his pillow, makes sure there's something next to his door and window that will make noise in case somebody enters during the night, etc.

postgame ryoma is extremely dehydrated like that guy does not drink water. can not get over the feeling of water in his lungs and always looks like he's taking a shot of the worlds hardest liquor whenever he does take a drink of something. he has GOD awful headaches because of this

headcanon d (unrealistic, but i will disregard canon about it):

not a technology guy but extremely good at candy crush for some reason. the only time anybody ever sees him on his phone is when he is playing that game it's kind of ridiculous

his resume is INSANE he's pulled SO many odd jobs out of his ass while he was on the run trying to make money. one of his classmates is like "hey does anybody know if i should get this tooth checked out" and ryomas like "let me check i was a dentals assistant for two weeks" and the classmates like "?????HUH??????". he isn't one to share about his past in great detail AT ALL but sometimes he just randomly drops a piece of lore about him out of the blue that makes you rethink everything

headcanon ask game!!!

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Hi, I keep coming back, but I got another song for you!! Life After Salem by Lil Nas X is so Jay to Alex, but you can even squeeze some Tim in there too!!

NEW SONG WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Okay you know the drill, shitty lyric analysis under the thingy so its all neat and tidy before BAM me spewing a bunch of bullshit about my favorite lil guys. Also this one goes off the rails cos i just finished it with a massive fuck off migraine, so it starts out all detailed then becomes "yes song good good" pretty much lol

You're so right tho, this song is so Jay and Alex.

All of my feelings are gone I left 'em all on the floor Man, who's to blame if you don't love me no more? No, I don't mind, just take whatever you want

Shocker, Alex and Jay singing a duet.

To me the first two lines would be sung by Jay about him hiding his feelings for Alex back in college/uni, pretending he didn't like him or want to be in a relationship with him (beyond just their FWB relationship), pretending he wasn't in love with Alex for years despite knowing that he absolutely was. Probably those lines would be sung by Jay to Alex about their time in College, explaining what he tried to do with his feelings: "I left 'em all on the floor". Those lines would also probably be sung, like, after Alex has said all those nasty things to Jay in the kitchen? Somewhere around then. This is like a song for if they ever actually fucking talked to each other properly lmao.

The next line would be Alex's response, a sort of manipulative way of saying he understands why Jay doesn't trust him anymore, that he understands what he did and why it was cruel. But in that kinda "oh woe is me I'm just the worst" kinda way, yknow? Trying to make Jay go "no, you're not the worst, you're not evil, you just didn't think it's okay!" and give Alex another chance. There'd definitely be a certain level of sincerity as well though, because Alex really does realize that he was pretty damn shitty to Jay. He wants Jay not to love him anymore. He needs Jay not to love him anymore.

Then the last line is kinda both of them, but in different ways, like they'd sing it together but with completely different tones and it'd be so obvious that they're talking about different things. For Jay "No, I don't mind, just take whatever you want" is about how Alex just kinda took and took and took from him throughout their relationship, but it'd also be a kinda, like, good tone? Like Jay's convinced himself that he genuinely doesn't mind how much Alex has taken from him, he kind of likes the fact that he could give Alex that control over him etc? For Alex "No, I don't mind, just take whatever you want" would be a lot more bitter, he feels like Jay is the unreasonable one who just keep's taking, because he's taken Alex's heart (lmao cringe) and Alex was not ready to give it away to him.

Why don't you just take what you want from me? I think you should take what you want and leave Why don't you just take what you want from me? I think you should take what you want and leave

Alex. He wants Jay to have basically everything he's wanted out of their relationship just before he leaves and Alex makes sure that they don't see each other again. Jay gets to kiss Alex, they have sex in a bed, Jay sleeps over, they have breakfast together, etc.

(It is another day now and I have a headache. Thinking is hard, the rest of this is probably gonna be a mess im sorry lol.)

What you want from me? Yeah What you want from me? Yeah

Then just Jay not really knowing why Alex has changed and why he's doing all these nice things for him, so he's just sitting there trying to figure out what Alex wants from him in return for all these nice things. (the answer to that being: alex wants him heartbroken enough to save himself)

Get yourself an Adderall Then throw me up against the wall And kick me when I have to crawl Ooh, I love it when you show no love at all You know I can be your part-time lover Our scars, they'll dance with each other I can be your part-time lover Our scars, they'll dance with each other

Okay, hear me out, this bit's about their dynamic, shocker... even tho it makes it sound a lot more toxic and abusive than it actually was. They were both mostly happy with the dynamic and neither were trying to hurt each other. They just both kinda wanted it to be a romantic relationship when it wasn't, but Alex was scared of that, and Jay wasn't gonna push it for fear of losing what he already had so far. And he'd rather have that than nothing.

"Ooh, I love it when you show no love at all" at first i thought this bit would be Jay, but now that i think about it, it's Alex to me. He liked it when Jay didn't show him any love back in college, because it made it easier to ignore his own feelings for him.

Why don't you just take what you want from me? I think you should take what you want and leave Why don't you just take what you want from me? I think you should take what you want and leave

What you want from me? Yeah What you want from me? Yeah

You're changin' You're changin' every day You played me I let you win again You're changin' You're changin' every day And you're takin' You're takin' everything

They are in fact changing, yup. Probably Jay talking about Alex, Alex changed up their usual dynamic when they got back to his house, then it turned out that all the niceness was just a way to break Jay's heart even worse. He just got his feelings played with, and he didn't really do anything to stop it, because he liked how Alex was treating him too much. Which like, fair.

[miloonmetis]

hi, i really like your overwatch fics! they're very well written, so i'd like to make a request of my own and see what you come up with!! would you be willing to do a soldier76/reader fluff fic? we don't get a lot of content of him letting his guard down and being emotionally available. which, i guess is fair considering he's soldier 76, but still, i'd like to see it! if you're willing, of course. thank you :)

|| Thank you so much!! and ofc, i hope you like it :)

featuring: Solider76 & GN!Reader (PLATONIC) warnings: overworking, comfort, fluff, slight angst. wholesome, soldier's real name, not proof read

You held your head, having a headache from the past missions. Staying up and doing heavy paperwork, you were sick of it. Wanting a break and finding no time for yourself, you had eye bags under your eyes and you found yourself constantly nodding off to sleep while trying to listen to the rules of the next mission. You tried to pinch your arm below the table so you'd wake yourself up even just a little, but it worked for maybe a minute before you found yourself nodding back off to sleep yet again. "___." Solider 76 calls out your name, and you snap to look up. Straightening up, worried this was it and you were getting cut. "Stay behind." He says.

Yup. This is it. You think to yourself, you watch as he dismisses everyone else. You began to rub your hands against your thighs as you felt the sweat build on your palms, you weren't ready to be cut off from overwatch. It's all you knew and had to even survive and live, but you'd respect it if you were holding the rest of the team behind because of how tired and slow you had been doing things lately. Solider made his way over, grabbing a chair and pulling it up next to you. He looks at you with worry, grabbing your hand gently and looking at you in the eyes. "___? Are you doing okay?" He asks you.

The question caught you off guard, Solider 76? Asking if YOU were okay? It almost felt as if you were dreaming. But you knew it wasn't you had just pinched yourself and hadn't woken up. "I'm... yeah I'm alright.." You lied and how painfully obvious it was, Solider chuckled at your attempt to appear tough. "It's okay to say you aren't." He says, his thumb rubbing against your hand to comfort you. You glanced down to look as he did, it had been a while since you felt someone else worry and comfort you. To actually care about how you felt for once, it was nice.

You took a moment before you responded, "I'm tired, mentally and physically." You say, sighing as you feel a sudden weight lift off your chest. "I want a break but don't want to fall behind or be seen as lazy.." You began to spill, "Tracer is always so happy and capable of keeping up with everyone and everything, I wish I knew how that felt." You say you look up to lock eyes with him, "To be truly happy, yknow?" You say, asking yet not asking. He looks at you, he had a worried expression on his face, and in his mind he understood. "Me too, I've lost a lot of things in my life and it's hard to be able to keep up the tough face." He explained to you, not breaking eye contact and keeping his hand on yours.

"But you should know that everyone here takes breaks, Tracer has had plenty of times she has just said she wouldn't do anything more and went home." He says, "And if that's something you need, you should do it." he says, you stare at him processing everything as he speaks to you. You felt your eyes burn as tears began to build up before they snapped and fell down your cheeks like a waterfall. He didn't hesitate as he hugged you, his hand running up and down your back. "Thank you." You sniffed as you held him as tight as possible, well not too tight. You didn't wanna crush his old bones, "Anytime." He responds.

After a few minutes you split from the hug and wipe your nose and eyes with your sleeve, "Do I just go tell Winston?" you ask, and he nods. "Then I'll be doing that now, thank you again, soldier." He chuckled a bit at the hero's name, "I think we are past that, call me Jack." He says, You pause to look at him in shock that he is comfortable enough with you. You think for a moment before you nod, "Thanks, Jack." You smile slightly before you walk off to tell Winston you are going on break.

[good-morning-tucson]

BABY’S THING A WEEK 3 REVIEW

madelaine - i don’t know what the point or meaning of this song is. but i think i understand it anyway. by that i mean every time i listen to it i understand it less. i like how he says madelaine.

when you go - there are very few songs that make me cry. but this is one of two joco specific songs that does it. the way its written to leave whether its family, friend, or a significant other either leaving or dying gets me every time. the a capella is done so well i forget that’s what it is. i could write an entire separate piece on the lyrics. Good song!

code monkey - THIS IS A SIN BUT CODE MONKEY WAS NEVER ONE OF MY FAVORITES. it’s cute. it deserves to be a joco staple. but i don’t know man. i could still fuck this up at joco karaoke. jocaraoke. i also like it significantly more when i’m listening to it than when i think about it

the presidents - i think this song is really funny. i have nothing to say about it outside of that. the ending makes me giggle. his voice sounds fun in this too i can’t put my finger on why.

just as long as me - i like this song and like. nothing more. i think it’s cute. nice fiddle. i love joco songs that are straightforward silly weirdness like this

till the money comes - gold digger divorce joco is so real. i think i like this song more than i should. i like when songs have two people who are both jerks for no real good reason. him going “ugghh oww” at the end is him tripping over his bass <3

tom cruise crazy - this song is SO funny to me. all of joco’s other songs are normal but this has the double whammy of a gay joke AND the r slur. and the whole idea and concept is super amusing. thank you joco!

famous blue raincoat - i listen to this song when i have a bad headache. his voice is very pretty. i don’t have much else because this is a cover song

soft rocked by me - JOCO SEX‼️‼️‼️‼️ i love how live performances of this are done with paul and storm. i think it’s very cute. :) i could DESTROY this at a jocaraoke night. this song is the epitome of freaking it sensitive style

not about you - THIS SONG WOULD MAKE AN INSANE OC/SHIP ANIMATIC. does anyone else see the vision. he was so real for this one. this is definitely a breakup song, but i see it like. an anti love song yknow

rock and roll boy - i can never remember this song exists. but i don’t dislike it. i think it’s very cute and very silly. i like the funny vocals joco does the most. thank you rock and roll boy

drinking with you - this song is inherently queer to me. i know it’s written as straight but this song is very gay in my eyes. i think it’s all of the painful yearning. and also the yearning is spreading to me (a gay man)

pizza day - this song fills me with emotions around a childhood memory i don’t even have. i love this song but i never listen to it. thank you joco thank you pizza day

i think i can firmly say that things a week 2 and 3 are tied for my favorite. if you ask me my top favorite it’d change by day. this one feels a lot more somber than the past two, despite it also being full of comedic songs. i enjoy it a lot. :)

[just-some-random-blogger]

you get me. you GET me. you get me so much i screamed when you laid down what you got. UGHHH. literally i hope to write more fics that will interest you because UGHHHHH you just get meeeeeeee its sooo goodddd

i also i too use girl as gender neutral sLAYYY.

I'm so happy you love the cargyll twins 🥺🫶🫶

The way we always see her as *herself*, beyond her ailment, beyond her concerns of putting up an act, both as a Hightower daughter and/or a Targaryen wife. She's just herself, without being worried that she's disappointing Otto or Daemon.

this is it. this is literally how i envisioned their dynamic to be yknow. when you commented on this once before i leapedddddd for joy it LEAPED really. you get me. you get meeee.

she's just a girl when she's with them. just a girl who loves to swim and pick flowers. did you actually sob cos of the scene with erryk? 🫂🫂🫂 but also... love that for me HAHAHAH.

(I don't even want to think about the fact that the last time she experienced something like this was probably in old town w gwayne when they were children)

dw. i like to think the sibs snuck out to go for a swim for the last time before she was married to daemon. to cheer her up yknow. alicent was there too <3

I love the way you portray Otto's relationship [...]

THISSSSSSSS. THISSSS. YOU JUST GET MEEEE T_T SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. I literally JUST ranted about this to my friend that everyone is like 'daemon is trying' WHAT ABOUT OTTO I WROTE HIM THAT WAY TOO AND YOU JUST 😫😫😫😫😫 FUCKK YOU GETTT MEEEEEe

[...] with the reader because he's not black and white with his motives, only using his daughter to raise his House's standing. Rather, he's a complex character with layers, he's still a father - albeit a shitty one at that.

YOURE SOOOOOO ON POINT WITH EVERYTHING LITERALLYYYYYYYYYYYYY i thought it was really important to expound on this because DAEMON IS LITERALLY OTTO TO HER!!! BUT IN A WAY BETTER BECAUSE AT LEAST DAEMON IS CAPABLE OF SOME SORT OF AFFECTION. she's like 'ok my dad treats me this way, ergo my husband treating me this way is fine' !!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is so important fr fr because we accept the love we think we deserve.

He loves his daughter, in his own twisted way. How he ensures that she's not having a fit before dropping the baby bomb on her. He worries for her, knows her ticks.

💯 no notes

But it's the way he uses his love and knowledge regarding her to get his own way and to get the reaction he wants out of her that's the most twisted.

THIS!!!!!! ok im so fucking excited i just want to tell you BUT ALL WILL BE REVEALED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER IVE BEEN BUILDING THIS SHIT UP FOR SO LONG IM SO FUCKING GLAD YOU CAUGHT ON IM GOING TO FUCKING CRY.

Also, I love how we're seeing mc slowly but surely starting to stand up for herself. WE LOVE GROWTH IM SO PROUD OF HER, I COULD CRY.

<3 but also..... who's gonna tell her (not me)

Day 173822 of begging daemon to just be normal for once in his life.

ur so me fr bestie

Honestly speaking, I was one of the few that voted for reader to prioritise herself and not go after either gwayne or daemon but ohh!!! I loved loved loved this scene.

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯 AS YOU SHOULD. AS YOU FUCKING SHOULD. I WAS AND AM STILL ACTUALLY VERY GAGGED THAT THAT POLL WOUND UP THAT WAY. SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING TOTALITARIANISM BECAUSE THIS DEMOCRACY AINT WORKING FOR ME CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNN COMFORT DAD BOI DAEMON???????? YUCKKK i mean i get it but DAMNNNN?????

her whole arc with gwayne was rough. spolier? i dont plan on bringing him back at all so </3 if he comes back well 😬😬 shits about to go down

ALSO DAEMON YOU LITTLE RAT,

HAHAHHAHAHHAHAH YOU LIKE ME FR FR FR I TOO CALL HIM RAT HAHAHAHAH AND EVERYONE ELSE THAT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF

YOU HAVE NO RIGHT BEING MAD AT MY GIRL FOR NOT BEING THERE WHEN YOU DEGRADED HER THE LAST TIME AND NOT IN THE SEXY WAY!!!!

😬 yeesh fr.

Her telling him to speak what he wants and not twist his words is soooo real. YES GIRLL SET IT STRAIGHT WE DONT WANT EXTRA HEADACHES IN OUR LIVES!!

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯 AGAIN AND AGAIN YOU GET ME YOU DONT MISSSSSSSS

I just remembered that she still thinks that night was a dream and I'm heartbroken again </3

dw. she'll find out it wasnt a dream.............. eventually

Pls daemon why do you have to choose aggression and rage every fucking time. Just be cute for once ugghhh.

UR LITERALLY ME FRRR HAHAHHAHHAHA

EVEN THE LINE YOU QUOTEDDDD i feared people might overlook it BUT YOU SAW. YOU GET ME. AND THATS MORE THAN ENOUGH.

I am so honored to have gotten your lovely reblog. i will 100% tag you my love. i'm glad you like my fic and my brain and my words. i love you so much. literally if there is something you want to see in this fic, just tell me and i'll make it happen for you fr fr.

Tormented Spirit | 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.

He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.

"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."

Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.

"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.

Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"

"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"

"HOPSCOTCH!"

A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.

"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.

You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."

Erryk's face only contorts further.

"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."

In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.

"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."

He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."

You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."

Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."

You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.

He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."

You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.

He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"

He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.

You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"

Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"

Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"

"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."

You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."

Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."

"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"

Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."

"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.

"Say what?" you knit your brows.

Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."

Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.

You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"

"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."

Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"

Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."

You feel bile rise up your throat.

"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."

You shake your head, and gather your skirts.

"As has the prince."

Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.

As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.

You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.

Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"

You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"

"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."

"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."

Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"

"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."

He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."

You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"

"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.

Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"

Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"

You stare blankly at him.

He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"

You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."

Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.

You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.

"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"

You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."

Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."

Your jaw clenches.

"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."

You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"

He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."

You whip your head to him and pull away.

Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.

"W-what?"

He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."

You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.

"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."

Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.

You try to take his hand, but he slips away.

"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.

Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.

"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.

You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"

"Perhaps you should sit down first."

You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.

"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.

You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.

"Princess, please, slow down," one says.

You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.

"Princess."

You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.

You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.

Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.

It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.

You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."

He stares at you wordlessly.

You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.

He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."

You nod, "I know."

"Go to him," he says softly.

"I-"

"Go to him!" he snaps.

You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.

Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.

"If it is your command, I shall obey."

He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."

You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."

Daemon does not move.

"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."

It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.

You stare.

"You do not want to go to him?"

Your lips part.

He raises his brows.

"I... I do."

Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.

The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.

"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.

Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.

The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.

Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"

Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.

"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.

He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.

"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."

He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."

"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.

Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.

Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"

His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."

"I'm fine."

"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.

You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."

You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"

"No."

You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,

"This is glass."

"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"

Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."

You pull your head back, "on accident?"

"On purpose," he tilts his head.

You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"

He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."

You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.

It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."

"..."

"You were not there."

You do not tear your gaze from his injury.

He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"

You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"

Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.

You continue wrapping up his hand.

"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.

"Why?"

His brows furrow.

"Why was I being a bitch?"

"..."

You spare him a quick glace.

He pulls his head back, "... what?"

"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"

His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?

You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.

Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?

You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."

Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.

"How do you feel?"

He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.

"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."

He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.

You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."

His eyes meet yours.

"I am here to care and comfort you."

He leans back, taken by the thought.

You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."

His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."

You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.

"I don't-"

"Daemon."

He stills.

You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.

He feels himself getting hard.

"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.

Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.

You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"

"I..." he starts.

You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.

"...wanted you to come to my tent."

You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."

"I want you."

You nod, "I will tend to you—"

Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.

He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.

Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.

You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."

He hums, nipping your flesh in response.

You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"

He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.

"Please, Daemon, wait-"

"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"

Your breath hitches as he sinks down.

"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"

"I- that's not-"

"Do you or do you not?"

"I... I do—"

You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.

He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.

You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.

Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.

Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.

You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.

Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.

"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.

You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.

He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.

Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.

At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.

His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.

"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.

He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.

You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.

"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."

You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."

Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."

He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.

"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."

You begin to grit your teeth.

"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.

It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.

He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.

You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.

You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.

Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"

You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."

Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.

The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."

You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."

Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"

You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"

He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"

You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"

Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."

You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"

His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.

"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."

His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"

"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."

When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.

Your heart races as he takes your hand.

"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."

You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."

He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.

"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."

He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.

He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.

"Daemon."

He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.

You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"

"I will stay."

You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."

He frowns, wiping your tears.

When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.

"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.

He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."

[a-gal-with-taste]

Heh heh lol, I'm tired and had a hilarious thought so I figured I'd make a short request, yknow when people accidentally say Love you to their coworkers because absent-minded/tired imagine doing that to Silco lol ☆

My literal worst nightmare IRL, but as a torment for a reader? Hehehe...

"Do you understand?" "Yes." Your fingers twitched as you blinked slowly, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the tension from between your brows. There was truly nothing so despicable, as draining, about running on low-sleep and a developing headache. "Redirect the transport line at the third check-point, keep eyes peeled for Firelight, and don't die. Anything else?"

The lighter flicked, but the man at the desk did not lift it to cast flame. Allowing it to go out, Silco reached up and plucked the fresh new cigar from his teeth with a look of indifference, but you could see the way his brow twitched when his smoke was delayed. His eye flicked back to you, the one still fully intact becoming hooded as he glanced you over.

"How old are you again?"

This time you actually closed your eyes, but mentally shook yourself before you could linger in the peaceful darkness. Or it would be, if not for the throbbing behind your eyes, that made numbers too painful to think about, so you only muttered out, "Old enough, sir."

"Old enough? I trust that translates to you no longer requiring a bedtime to function like an adult." His tone, normally rich in underlining meaning, is flat enough for you to detect the unimpressed nature he has in observing you try to cover your third yawn of this debriefing. "Pull yourself together. Wake up, and try not to nap on the way over to the deposit-point. This is a mission I am trusting you with, not something you can simply to doze through. Are we clear?"

The sneer on his words makes the headache grow, and you manage a nod. You're not surprised he's shorter with you than normal - you've almost gotten used to how hot and cold Silco could be with you.

Oftentimes being that very intense, ominous Eye of Zaun that most would expect the king of Zaun to be. Cool, drawing tones with a gaze that merely glanced over you. Either in indifference or, as you've been seeing more and more of, in a calculating way that informed you he was debating his uses of you. Considering the fact that it's Silco, you would normally imagine those uses to be temporary, and eventually result in being cast aside like any other tool at his disposal.

It's those times when he's nearly the exact opposite of his colder front, that only further bewilders you as what his motives could be.

Sudden, but not spiteful orders for you to take a day off. Coffee, steaming and at ready upon your arrival to full-team briefings, that Sevika never reveals who sent it. More than a couple of private chats in his office, going over the finer details of a recent mission or job at his command. The first time he had asked 'are you feeling alright,' it had indeed seemed like he was speaking in the voice of Silco, king of Zaun who would crush anyone in order to tear Piltover down.

When he asked the question now, despite his short-tone with you, there in a hint of something almost genuine in his voice. You should be left reeling, from the idea that this puppet-master of the Undercity's crime would show even an ounce of care for you, but your headache was already doing a good enough job of leaving you spiraling.

So you were only able to nod, managing something that could technically be counted as a smile.

"Yes, Silco. Just... one of those days, sir. It won't interfere with your shipment sir, I'll get it done."

Your assurance made that brow narrow lower, and finally, a spark hit the end of the fresh-cut cigar. The smell of smoke neither hindered nor helped stop that pounding behind your eyes, but it did ground your senses as Silco glanced down at the papers on his desk. Still holding a slight, pinched look of frustration as he turned slightly, blowing out the lungful but keeping his eye fixed at his desk.

"... I can't delay this, you understand. I have Sevika dealing with the western boroughs this week, with Jinx shadowing her." Ah - that explained his tension. You wondered how many missives, filled with thinly-veiled, or colorfully-explicit complaints about the other have already returned to his desk. "With both of them gone, you're one of the few I can have... faith in, to do this job."

He said faith like he means trust. Which was obviously a ridiculous notion, but you felt something other than the ache in your skull when he said it; warmth.

"And I will do it right sir," You vowed, and his mixed-gaze flicked up to you, smoke coiling off his lips. After a beat, Silco nodded, bringing his smoke back to his lips as he leaned back, and turned his chair, facing the window. "Take tomorrow off when it's done. Day after that too, if need be. I have more use for someone awake than halfway to sleep."

"Oh... sir, that really isn't necessary-"

"That wasn't a request." Silco wasn't cold persay at the order, but you suppressed a sigh at his unforgiving tone. It couldn't be refused. "Right... well, thank you, sir." You said, a bit reluctantly but honestly a bit grateful. It must've showed, for it took a moment for smoke to reappear in the air in front of the green-glass and iron window.

His dismissal came shortly after, almost quietly, and you smiled as you turned and started moving towards the door. "Right. Thanks sir, have a good night, love you-"

The relaxed exhale of spiced-smoke was cut short by a small sputter, progressing rather quickly into a cough.

Damage-control came as soon as you realized the pattern of vowels your mouth was making, suddenly wide-awake. You tried to make it come out quietly, the moment the second syllable left your lips. Unfortunately, the rest of the sentence continued on it's path and by the time you hit '-u,' you could see that swivel-chair already beginning it's sharp turn back to face the rest of the office. More importantly, to face you.

Sleep was apparently no longer needed, as your hand all but snapped the doorknob off in the haste to open, and the door snapped shut behind you before Silco could manage to bark out the order for you to wait.

You heard the call through the door though, and managed not to stumble down the stairs as you took steps two, three at a time.

With your shoes hitting the bottom, you stilled for a minute, than couldn't help it; the laugh that slipped out of you.

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that made it so humorous, but there was no storming feet. No demands that you return to the office immediately, and you strode out The Last Drop with the only consequence of telling your employer 'love you,' was your own burning face.

A slip of the tongue, nothing more. Something that was more than slightly humiliating, but you could be professional about this, and among deadly, cunning and spitefully witful, one of Silco's other dominating traits was also having a clear sense of professionalism.

With that in mind, you were surprisingly thankful for the embarrassment. You knew without a doubt that you were entirely awake now, and this showed in your actions. The transport safely redirected, not even an ounce of activity on the trail. You felt that headache subside long enough for you to ensure that yes, all vials were accounted for and distributed to the second-hand marketer without a single issue. Payment exchanged, a goodnight *strictly* kept to a single sentence, and you were done.

It was a good night. That didn't mean you had to go off to celebrate it as normal people would, and celebrated your own way, by returning to your dwellings, grabbing the nearest pillow and already out by the time your head hit the bed. And you were blissfully asleep for the entirety of the night, and halfway to forgetting the incident, just as you imagined Silco would be.

That's what you believed last night.

Now, however, mouth slightly agap and hair still shrewn from your night of rest, you weren't really quite sure what to believe when you opened the front-door.

The sight of Silco, an extra coffee in his hand, on your front porch. Clearing waiting, and though nonchalant, you saw a slight bite of his gloved nails digging into fine-leather as his fist clutched around his cup.

As you managed to remember to speak, and slowly offer the invitation for your boss to come in, you wondered how sleep-deprived you had actually been last night, to ever believe that Silco would just forget.

-

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[lurkingismypastime]

My Mike Afton Headcanons :)

Aromantic asexual, interested in a qpr

Autistic (I’m probably going to make a separate post just for this)

Genderfluid, he/they/she/xe

Deaf or close to it. I’ve yet to figure out if it should be just the natural progression of his hearing or something that happened

His mom was Mexican

Warm brown skin tone (yknow, like how colors can warm or cool)

They have their mom’s wild dark brown hair, and it shows once he takes care of it (and isn’t that a thematic statement and a half)

Curly dark brown hair, grows it to just above shoulder length

Having it pulled back all the time gives them a headache, but they won’t leave it loose if they feel they’re in danger

Complete heterochromia, their right eye is blue and their left is brown

(This was mostly because I couldn’t decide between giving them brown eyes or blue, and now I’m attached)

5′5″ (let Mike be short, it’s what they deserve)

Other Headcanons

Since they have trouble hearing and work in a place where they have to rely on hearing to warn them of danger, they have issues going without aids

Gruffly gentle with people younger than them, but prone to hostility with people older

Will fight as soon as he thinks he’s being threatened

On bad days he panics at everything he thinks could be perceived as a mistake

Loves to people watch (unless they’re having a bad day where they compare themself to their dad) enjoys watching life just bustling around them, it makes them feel more human

Hates being treated like she’s stupid or worthless 

AUTHORITY ISSUES BABY

In an ideal world, xe would be a paramedic or artist :)

Touch starved and touch repulsed

Loves rain, it’s xeir favorite smell too

The ocean is also something she loves

Sunset colors are her favorite

Loves painting especially mural-like pieces

Has trouble making friends and connecting with people, but sometimes finds people that just click

Has been a disappointment all his life, and when he grew up he learned to wear it like a badge of pride. There’s still a wound beneath that though, and it likes to show up on bad days and around parental figures.

Chronic pain, body issues

Once he learns to stand up for himself, he also figures out how to stand up for others

Dry sense of humor

Their wrist getting grabbed is a trigger. If it happens unexpectedly they will fight them off, or panic if that doesn’t work.

Introverted

Gardening is something they enjoy a lot. They have a lot of plants (some of which are wild/weeds) knows a lot about their properties

Self-esteem issues (but we knew that)

Spoke Spanish with their mom until (something happened, I’m still figuring out what) 

Later picked it up again, or spoke and learned it all through childhood to stay connected to her (dad told him he couldn’t take Spanish because he would ‘cheat’)

His mom used to make heated milk with brown sugar and nutmeg for him. He makes it for his siblings on bad nights, and later for himself when he needs comfort

C-ptsd in general but also about ennard specifically (which makes eating even more of a challenge, and gives him autonomy issues)

They were conscious while Ennard was in them (I’m so sorry) 

She’s got her mom’s eyes and smile. She nearly cries the first time someone points out the resemblance because she’s been compared to her father her whole life

Has xeir mom’s freckles and temperament, but xeir dad’s face and mannerisms (unfortunately)

TOUCH STARVED AS HELL

Fuck William’s accent, Michael has his mom’s accent

Nearly debilitating fear of losing autonomy

Can face the worst life has to offer without batting an eye, but crumbles like a wet paper bag in the face of any positive interaction

Loves space and thinking about it and talking about it

Was an annoying and kind of rough older sibling, but also took on the responsibility of his siblings. William was especially bad the week of cc’s birthday, and that translated into being rougher and more calloused with his siblings. If the joke had gone as intended, he probably would have made it up to him in his own rough way once he realized how much it affected cc.

Don’t tell me you haven’t done something in the heat of the moment that you regret later. I know I have

Being gentle comes easily to him after he gets away from his father and learns to leave the ‘be tough or get hurt’ mindset

This makes him even more like his mother, with his temper turning into spitfire protectiveness combined with a gentle empathy, especially for kids

His mother begins to shine through more and more. Where he once had his father’s expressions and habits, he now exhibits his mom’s

Sorting through my Mike refs, I’m realizing how many of my headcanons were just putting a neon sign above his head blaring ‘AUTISTIC. THIS PERSON IS AUTISTIC’

[moroneur]

Pick up, move on.

hi there! this is a little continuation of Wishing upon shooting stars! I originally wanted to leave it be as it is but had to get over my writers block somehow! Also some readers requested a happy ending for our dear Y/n, so heres a little one shot to show you thigs are going good :) its very short but im quite happy with how it turned out . Heres PART 1 {} PART 2

It had been a month or so since your breakup with Wine. You moved out of your apartment, stayed away from any and all bars, got a new job. Things have changed, and you’re too busy to tell if it's for the better or not. At least you don't have to think about any dismissive boyfriends now. Currently at the mall, you try to stay focused on picking the best tomatoes. 

You try to focus on this mundane task but sometimes, when your mind decides to mess with you, it strays away. To that night, at grillby’s where your last date with Wine had transpired. Where he met another woman, where you met rejection. In your drunken stupor you’d almost have a mental breakdown, but another skeleton was there to set you on the right path again. He’d been there for you, heard you out, and even called you cab. You were grateful and you hope to get a chance to see him again, maybe give him a thank-you gift. He had been the last push you needed to set yourself free afterall, and it meant a lot to you. 

Ah, these ones are good enough. You put the last tomato in your plastic bag and tie it. Next stop will be the pasta section. You sigh. I do wonder how he’s doing right no- 

“ow! fuckin’ hell! watch where ya goin’ you... human?” His angry voice fizzled out into one of confusion. “Red!” You’re pleasantly surprised, even if half of your groceries are on the floor. Did you manifest him? You should think about money more then. You reach to pick up your fallen things as he stands up. “Sorry for bumping into you.” You notice something else on the floor, that isn't yours. A bottle of mustard. You reach for it and hand it over to him. He didn't notice anything fell, and accepted the bottle with a little grin. “s’nothing. glad ya remembered m’name, human.” 

You went home a lot later that day. You didn't mind though, at least you caught up to Red, his 

number saved on your phone (and yours on his).

Work has been getting increasingly difficult lately, and you just can't help but crave for a break. An actual break, not a quick smoke or a 5-minutes coffee break. It’s not healthy, and you’re so frustrated because your stupidass coworkers can't seem to do the stupidass job right and– 

Safe to say that your only friend who's awake after 11 p.m. is Red. You both went to each other to vent about work and life in general, and the knowledge of someone having almost the same problems as you makes you (selfishly) sleep better at night. You hope Red feels the same. 

Tonight was one of those nights. You didn’t really feel tired, so you were on your phone, talking to Red about the things that transpired today.

Dumb edgy bitch

Yo.

Me: Sup

Dumb edgy bitch: Im heading to grillbys in an hour, dyou feel up to joining me?

Me: If this is a scheme for a date then i must decline

Dumb edgy bitch: Im not just a flirt yknow. Thought u knew me better smh

Me: Just makin sure. Ye im up to it. See u there :)

It’s a good thing you weren't very tired tonight. You were invited to the same Grillby’s as.. That time. But that's fine. You’re not going on a date this time and you will make sure you enjoy yourself (because you know you're gonna hate yourself the next morning once you wake up for work with a headache). You make yourself a strong coffee, just in case, and get dressed in a casual outfit.

You arrive at Grillby’s in no time. Actually, right on time, it's 11:55 p.m., might as well order a beer or whatever. You take a deep breath, nervous. The last time you’ve been here, you’d gotten plenty of pitiful looks from Grillby. Perhaps you’ll flirt with him to see him embarrassed (he seems so stoic, is that even possible? Well, you’ll find out!) as a little bit of revenge. 

Determination fueling your steps, you open the door.

[chloexquinn]

"Wow..." Was all Chloe said after hearing Tyler's first sentence. "That's crazy..." Of course she was going to be repeating everything that he was saying back to Jake, it was just interesting to take in. She was very well aware Tyler could be lying just to lie, or due to his hatred for Jake given everything Jake had told her about him, but she still was curious to hear Jake's side of things. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll be sure to steer clear if I ever run into him. I haven't really seen him around here much though. I guess lucky for us he doesn't come around often." Chloe didn't want to give Tyler any reason to think that he was on Jake's or knew him as well as she did, but she also didn't want to bash him too much either. There needed to be a balance for this to be believable.

Chloe let out a small scoff that was really a laugh with a small smile. "Yeah. Thankfully I don't make it a habit of doing that." Shaking her head and blinking as if all this information was too overwhelming, she let out a breath. "I have a headache now...How does everyone keep up with all this without getting winded? I feel like I've just gotten caught up on the past 3 seasons of a soap opera. This is why I keep to myself, honestly.." It was almost hard to push the information away when she so desperately wanted to dig for more. To Chloe knowledge is power and the more she knew the more resourceful she was. Oh well, she was sure she could get the latest scoop on everything from someone else. Damien? Absolutely not. He wasn't the kind of guy to get caught up in all this but perhaps someone else at school would be able to tell her what she needed to know. "So, stay away from Jake and stay away from this Nina person..,Thanks for the heads up. Maybe I should make a list or something." She joked.

Chloe let out a long sigh. Thankfully she'd prepared her little innocent act in case anyone she needed to warm up to had questions so this wouldn't be too difficult. Even if she hadn't, she could do this with her eyes closed and hands tied. "Well, that's a really long story. Brooke and I are kinda...Complicated. I was at a party one night and some people were talking about what was happening with Brooke at her old school. I wasn't too sure what was going on but I listened. The next time I saw Brooke she confronted me thinking I started the rumors. I put two and two together and figured some people from the Northside were there that night, heard what we were talking about and ran with it. I still don't know why she would think it was me but I just guessed they saw me there and decided to use me as a target. I didn't start the rumor but I guess not stopping people from talking about it didn't really help. I've felt like shit ever since but she's never forgiven me. I guess her seeing Jake and I talking after that didn't help the situation much either. I mean, if I saw someone talking to my boyfriend when we were together and I felt I had reason to believe they were saying false things about me i'd feel pretty uneasy. I mean, not to the point where I'd punch someone but, yknow.. I can't really blame her for thinking it was something it wasn't but I've always stayed away from Northsiders since then. I guess some of em seem nice but it's like you're caught up in a web of drama before you can even blink, y'know?"

Tyler knew he shouldn't talk so much about Jake and Lakewood. It was a different time. A brutal time. Nina raised the nine circles of hell and turned their school into the devil's playground. They were all at fault for following her into the darkness. It was that need to be somebody. The comfort of validation. None of them were inherently bad people but under her influence they were diabolical. "Money. Jake robbed him for money. So trust him as far as you can throw him." Tyler wasn't mad at Jake. His warning wasn't coming from a place of resentment. He truly thinks Jake is a double-crossing ego maniac. Every one of Jake's actions were driven behind some form of selfish gain. Brooke was the most important person in Jake's life and he still betrayed her time and time again.

"It's best not to get caught up in ancient drama. If I were you I would just avoid Jake and steer clear from Brooke. Just live your life. Seems you've been doing fine so far. You know, minus getting punched in the face. Being in that circle isn't worth it. The girl who started all this isn't even around anymore. I mean, barely. Yet everyone is still under her influence. It's like a nasty drug. You can get away from Nina and get clean, but she'll always find her way back. So if you ever come across a redhaired bitch named Nina — run the fuck away and don't look back. She is not a normal girl. That bitch is the devil incarnate and I don't say that lightly. Trust someone who's seen it all. From foster families to living on the street, her brand of evil is the worst I've ever come across. Reapers, Vipers, Lycans. The gang's on the southside are boy bands in comparison." A less informed person might think Tyler's over exaggerating but he isn't. If anything, his warnings weren't enough.

"As for Brooke... Who knows." He didn't want to say too much. There was an undying loyalty to the blonde despite her bipolar whiplashes. One minute, she's adorably smitten and the next she's chewing him up and spitting him out. "That's something I'll have to work on. I wish she would have stuck around so we could've cleared the air. Is that really everything? Like, your side of the story. She's THAT mad because you've hung out with Jake while they were dating? There's nothing else?"

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 1]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

You ever thought about returning home?

To Endor? Always.

Well...

That’s too bad now isn’t it?

“This is Y/F/N Y/L/N, she is the best we got here. Especially regarding your relations with the republic” the togruta informs before letting the bad batch get used to their new mechanic with a bit of introduction.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter, I’m the leader but once you’re working with us. Everybody sticks out”

“We let him handle the republic, otherwise, we are efficient regardless” Tech adds gesturing for his brother Wrecker to take care of Y/N’s crate. “A...crate?”

“Where else will I keep my gear? Besides. I don’t come with a lot.”

“Is there a reason to that?”

“Now Crosshair, don’t push it”

“What? Baggage can be literal or metaphorical.”

“Now that’s the smartest thing you’ve said since joining Clone Force 99”

“Shut it Wrecker” Crosshair bites, hearing him laugh on his way back on ship. “Well mechanic we have a mission to attend”

“A rescue. You don’t have to get involved right away—“

“No this’ll be exciting. Get to show you much more...than I’d ever show this hanger” Y/N whispers the last part getting their curious stares. “Yeah...you don’t need me and that’s okay”

“No! Don’t let Cross and Hunter with the mean faces! You’re coming along for the whole ride” Wrecker smiles picking her up suddenly as Y/N’s instincts came in, causing them to put the biggest out of them all in a headlock and taking both of their forces to her advantage slamming him behind her.

Tech snorted making across and Hunter now look at him confused as he collected himself.

“Sorry. Just. A tiny person took down Wrecker”

“This is so going to make bets a lot more fun” Crosshair smirks at the two as Y/N panicked helping Wrecker’s laughing ass back on his feet.

Aaray

Aaray

Aaray

Pain

Y/N stayed on the Havoc Marauder while the Bad Batch got introduced to a few others in the hanger of Coruscant. She laid down on the floor of the sleeping quarters feeling a sudden weight.

Y/N? Y/F/N Y/L/N...young one

“Y/N?” Hunter looks at her shocked expression as she sat up quickly. “There’s a few I’d like to introduce to you as Tech gets us flying”

“Oh, of course” Y/N smiles collecting themselves rather quickly as she got up to follow the sergeant.

“This is—“

“Captain Rex. And General Skywalker”

“Ok—and this—“

“Commander Cody and Arc Trooper Fives”

“Ha! Cutting off the leader is very bold of you.” Crosshair laughs in his remote corner of the common area. “How the fuck do you know these people?”

“You think you’re the only one that knows about the war going on? I don’t live under a rock Crosshair” Y/N steps into the cockpit joining Tech.

“You deserved that one” Cody adds receiving a glare from Cross as he leaves them to discuss the plan.

A distant Echo

The second Echo got on the ship with the others. He kept his distance even if Fives insisted on not listening to the body language. He was worried. The 501st had stopped looking and suddenly he returned to their lives in...almost one piece.

“Echo?”

Echo looks up from the bunk he was sitting on, staring at Y/N who came in after he was finally alone for some time.

“Sorry I don’t—“

“Y/N, anyway...how are you feeling?”

“I have a massive headache” Echo sighs looking at himself feeling the tightening happen in his chest. “I-Uhm...”

“I can leave you alone if you want me to. I don’t make any promises about your brothers though”

As Y/N says such, Echo instantly lays himself against them. He’s tired. God he tried...tried really hard. Y/N adjusted herself to let him rest his head in her lap and letting the rest happen on its own.

——

Y/N looked around in the dark, empty room. She took a few steps to get a feel of the room, making sure she didn’t fall into the void of what was under her. Then

“Y/F/N Y/L/N...come inside”

“No”

“Please”

“You stopped looking for me. You stopped looking...you let me die. YOU LET ME DIE” She screams into the void not hearing the voice after such.

“Oh sweet girl” someone new. “Come back to me. Let me take care of you” the hands grabbed her neck, arms, and torso yanking them back

——

Y/N jolted awake in her bunk, feeling the weight grow on her chest as she got up. She walks into the common area after grabbing a small container from the storage unit as she sets it down on the table before sitting.

“You’re awake?”

Y/N frowns looking over to the sharpshooter giving her a glare making her expression relax turning away.

“If you can’t sleep because of Wrecker’s snoring. Go to the other side. That’s where Tech is”

“I’m good”

“Mhm. What are you working on?”

“It’s nothing Cross. You can go back to sleep”

Crosshair glares at her feeling like she’s trying to push him away. But he decided to ignore the tension in the air, sitting across from them.

“Cross—“

“I won’t bug yea. I’m sitting here”

“Ok” Y/N continues to focus on the box in front of her opening it not revealing anything to the sharpshooter.

What’s broken

Should stay that way

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3032

i looked at a paper today and reformatted it. i need to look at it again before i submit it, and i have another post to write and submit, but that should be easy. typing is a little easier when i have advil in my system lol

i slept until noon today. it was nice. i've spent most of the day in a sort of paralysis.

outside, i just couldn't do anything productive. so i procrastinated by making name tags for thanksgiving. inside my head, i was sitting in a scrambler carnival ride in a pitch-black dome with neon green strobe lights flashing too brightly with 20 dollar nose bleed by fall out boy playing too loudly for me to think.

that's how my day mostly went.

i also wanted to like, just slam my head into the wall a dozen times so it'd stop being so fucking terrible, yknow?

i didn't though, because i already had a headache.

i told joel i was upset. he agreed that i might feel better if i ate something. i did, and i felt a little better, for a while. that was before i put the paralysis into words, and before the head banging against the wall became a desired action.

eh.

i'm not the best with coping.

i have a lot to do tomorrow. gotta get up early for a phone call and i gotta do a bunch of stuff for the house, but i also have to cancel an appointment tomorrow which i'll do once i'm done with this.

i'm tired.

[sleepless-in-southlands]

Cryptic Cryptids

Ao3

Summary: Luke's had a rough time recently, okay? Inscryption's been... well... Inscryption. A new start is exactly what he needs. And then his new start begins with him crushing some guy in a suit. Super. Or: Luke finds himself in Hermitcraft and falling both on and for one Mumbo Jumbo. Content: Fluff/humor, falling in love, character death (but yknow, minecraft), swearing, minecraft mechanics, references to trauma, crack ship/fic treated seriously, guys i promise it’s so good join me in my new ship pit, obligatory characters not CCs (except for luke, whose character Is a CC sdkjncf)

Notes: Part one of Lucky Jumbo. Chapter one of Lucky Jumbo.

You don’t need to know much about inscryption or hermitcraft to read, but bewarned there are (major) spoilers for both within. Hermitcraft is specifically set in s8, no moon-big edition

~

    It isn’t every day you get shot and killed.

    It also isn’t every day you fall from the peak of the sky right to the surface below and not get killed.

    It really isn’t every day you get your entire reality- or perhaps just your perception of it- turned on its fucking head.

    That established, Luke was having an extremely not-every-day day.

    At first, when Amanda shot him, he took it as a blessing. Sure, being dead kinda sucked, but Inscryption had had its claws dug deep in his mind. He was going mad, and frankly he hadn’t been looking forward to seeing it.

    Of course, when he opened his eyes next to find his house and blood stains replaced with endless sky and high-altitude clouds, he didn’t think ‘oh, a new world, a new chance for my life’. He thought ‘would you look at that, I’m still fairly insane. Bummer’.

    And then he hit the ground. That was very real.

    Though, to be fair, he didn’t exactly hit the ground. No, he hit a dude instead. Not even five minutes into his second chance and he was a murderer. Were there third chances? Those were the charmed ones, right?

    Except then, the dude who should definitely be dead now started talking, because even Luke’s new life was still just some sort of game.

    “Well, that was rather rud- oh. Who are you?”

    Luke had to give the guy points. First of all, he was reacting very well for a guy who had just been the accidental drop-point target for a complete stranger, a complete stranger who was currently making no effort to get off of him. Secondly, he was wearing a full suit get-up, which seemed impractical yet very polished of him. Maybe he was a lawyer who could sue Luke for all the money he didn’t have. Or a hitman.

    “I’m Luke, Lucky Carder, current owner of a splitting headache, ow.” Luke said as he pushed himself up a bit, careful to rest his arms on the ground next to his crash pad instead of his shoulders.

    “Did Xisuma whitelist you?” The suited man asked, wiggling enough of himself out from under Luke that he could sit up as well. “He didn’t mention anything about a new player.”

    Luke would have made a comment, such as perhaps “who the hell is Xisuma”, “why would I need to be whitelisted”, or “do I really look so good from a skyfall you think I’m a player because maybe I need to blowdry my hair more if so”, but he found he was too distracted by the other’s face.

    Namely the fact it was little more than two black dots and (an admittedly glorious) moustache.

    “Your face.” Luke only just resisted the urge to touch it, as if somehow the stranger would not know what his own face was. "What is it- why?”

    The moustache moved slightly, as if the mouth underneath it had moved slightly to frown, though Luke wasn't sure if there really was a mouth beneath. Shouldn't some of it be showing? Was the moustache his mouth? Where was his nose?

    “It's a perfectly fine face, thank you very much.” Possibly-no-mouth man said, sounding a bit hurt. "Yours doesn't even have a moustache.”

    Luke pressed a hand to his face in a manner that was possibly a bit sudden and therefore a bit startling. "Should I? Is that a thing? Does everyone have a moustache? Do I need a fake?”

    Definitely-no-nose man looked at Luke like he was crazy which, yeah, fair. "No, we don't all have moustaches- you seem. Well. Entirely lost.”

    Luke laughed awkwardly. "Yeah. Yes. That sums it up well. I don't even- I had just died, I don't know how I got here.”

    “Oh, you just died?” The man nodded to himself as if that made perfect sense, completely unphased. Definitely a hitman, Luke decided. "This is probably a respawn glitch, then. We should talk to Xisuma.”

    “Uh. Sure. That sounds right. Let's do that.”

    The well-dressed hitman nodded again before shifting a bit. “Um. Do you mind getting off of me? Or do you need some help?”

    That's right, the majority of Luke was still slumped right on top of polite no-nose moustache hitman guy. A+ first impression skills really. Falling on him, staying on him, insulting his face. Maybe the stranger wasn't a hitman. A hitman probably would've already hit him.

    “Ah, yeah, sorry, I- yeah, let me just-” Luke rolled himself off of the man, pushing himself up to his feet in the same motion. The stranger got up as well, taking a moment to straighten his moustache before he started digging around in his pocket.

    “I don’t seem to have a spare elytra on me, we’re going to have to walk.” He said after a moment. Luke tried to look like someone who knew what an elytra was and how it could help them in the traveling regard. “What were your coords when you died?”

    “Uh. I was at my house.”

    “Is it close? We could go there first to collect your things before they despawn.”

    Was he. Was he talking about Luke’s body? That thing was certainly decomposing at this point, he wasn’t sure about despawned. It was also almost certainly not within this place, whatever this place was. “No, my house is- it’s not near, no.”

    The stranger had the compassion to look sympathetic about Luke’s apparent plight of not being able to stop his body from decomposing. “Rough luck. Hopefully nothing too difficult to replace.”

    Well, Luke did seem to already have a new body, so. Guess he was alright.

    The stranger started to head off in one direction, Luke quickly moving to follow after him. He didn’t need to add being lost in a new place to his list of problems.

    They went on in silence for a few minutes, Luke using the time to appreciate the fact he was somehow completely unharmed from his fall before the stranger spoke up, asking, “So, what was it, lack of light and a mob ambush? Redstone gone wrong?”

    Luke gave himself a minute to process the sentences before accepting he wasn’t going to be able to. “What?”

    “What killed you?” The stranger rephrased, glancing back at Luke for a moment. “You said you died at home, that’s a bit unique.”

    He did have a point, really, most people didn’t open their doors to death. “Oh, I got shot.”

    “Skeleton?”

    “Huh? No, it was a person. Amanda.” Luke said her name with as much disgust as he could manage. “Working for a company with some big secrets. She wanted my disk.”

    The stranger looked back at Luke again, now looking deeply concerned. Weird how this guy seemed both incredibly comfortable with death and yet occasionally not at all. Maybe he was a remorseful hitman remembering a past hit. Or maybe he wasn’t a hitman at all. Maybe Luke was projecting a bit from the last person he had seen before being shot by not-a-skeleton.

    “She killed you over a disc? Were you in a hardcore world?”

    Odd way to ask about where Luke came from. How did he even know Luke came from somewhere?

    (Oh, right. Fell from the sky. Question rescinded.)

    “I mean- yeah, you could call it hardcore. And I agree it was an overreaction.”

    The man in a suit who was probably not a hitman but still talked quite a bit about death for not being a hitman shook his head a bit as he turned forward again. “You must have had a respawn glitch when you were kicked from the server and ended up in the nearest open one. Happens a lot. I believe that’s how Cleo got here.”

    “And they stayed?”

    “Well she couldn’t really go back, and it is a lovely server.” The stranger replied.

    Luke nodded to himself, filing away the information to himself. So there was a chance they’d let him stay… wherever this was. Not that he necessarily wanted to, of course, if there was a way out- which, who knows, maybe there was something about these ‘servers’ Luke could work with- he would like a chance to at least ghost around home, settle his affairs, haunt Amanda. But if he couldn’t do that, well… at least he knew one guy here. Eh. Had fallen on one guy here.

    “You know, I don’t think I got your name.”

    “Oh? How terribly rude of me.” The stranger paused his walking for a moment to offer Luke his hand to shake. “Mumbo Jumbo at your service.”

    For once, Luke thanked the odd and arguably stupid names of the Scrybes and their friends. They made Mumbo Jumbo sound almost normal for a name, or at least normal enough Luke didn’t laugh like an asshole or attempt to question it like he had his face.

    Luke shook his hand obligingly. “Good to make your proper acquaintance.”

    “What, you don’t consider crushing a bloke to be proper?” Mumbo joked as he continued on.

    "Ha ha… yeah that wasn't my best moment. Sorry about that."

    Mumbo waved him off. "Can't control it. It wasn't that much of a bother anyways, I needed the break."

    Once again Luke questioned what sort of world, exactly, he had ended up on, that someone falling from the sky and crashing into you was treated more akin to the printer running out of ink. Was someone going to fall on top of him at some point? Guess it didn't matter considering neither him nor Mumbo were injured at all.

    Lost in thought, Luke didn't realize they had reached the edge of a large body of water, only stopping when he saw Mumbo do the same. He wasn't sure if it was a lake or an ocean, but it stretched out far enough he couldn't see the other side.

    Luke looked over to Mumbo, about to ask if they'd have to go around when he saw the suited man digging around in his pockets for something, even checking the small one holding his handkerchief.

    "Seems I forgot to grab my boat and tools.” He said after he finished his fruitless search. Luke decided not to comment on why he thought his boat might be in his pockets. "Pardon me a moment.”

    For a second, please imagine you are in Luke's situation. You need a boat to cross some water, and your traveling companion, who apparently carries boats on him most of the time for whatever reason, currently does not have one on him because he forgot it. You would expect, then, when he asks you to patiently wait for an indiscernible amount of time, that he is going to hurry back to wherever he left his boat and fetch it for you two. You can agree that is the most logical conclusion here, yes? Good.

    Now, imagine he starts punching a tree instead.

    Luke was fairly certain he was mad. Not that Luke had any ground to speak on the matter, but still. At least he didn't think punching a tree was the solution to no boat. Not to mention Mumbo was really going for it. Just absolutely wrecking the tree. Not out of anger, but like he had a plan.

    And then the part of the tree Mumbo was attempting to pulverize just… popped out of place. Just. Fell right off the tree. Unbroken, almost as if it hadn’t been punched viciously by a well dressed man with a finely groomed moustache who was now punching a SECOND part of the tree, the tree that was now floating, and alright maybe this was all just Luke. Maybe Luke was in a very fucked up dream. Or a coma. Or something. Because obviously reality had taken a scenic trip out the window.

    Mumbo the tree puncher was completely unfazed by his actions, collecting a third piece of beaten up wood before fiddling with the logs. Luke had no clue what he was doing, but every time he blinked the wood was in a different form. It went from log to planks, then planks to a whole ass workstation, and then Mumbo slapped some wood on the workstation and suddenly had a boat in his hands and alright then thread of logic that’s where you went to fine cool fine chill this is all so fine for Luke right now.

    “There we go.” Mumbo said, much too nonchalantly for Luke’s liking. He frowned when he finally took notice of Luke’s dumbfounded expression. “Something wrong? I apologize if you don’t care for oak boats, but it’s what’s close-”

    Using none of his manners, Luke grabbed Mumbo’s hands, ignoring the startled noise the man made as he tugged them (and subsequently Mumbo himself) closer to his face. They were completely unharmed from the tree punching, not so much as a bruise discolouration to be found.

    “How did you do that?” Luke asked, jerking his head up to make very close eye contact with Mumbo as he started to shake both of his hands. “Why are you not bleeding?!”

    Mumbo somehow looked even more confused than Luke felt, taking a moment to free his hands before commenting, “Your old server must have been really modded.”

    Luke noted that that was very much not an answer, but didn’t try to press it again. Mumbo clearly saw nothing wrong with tree punching. Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with it here. What would Luke know? He wasn’t the one who had just made a boat out of a punched tree. Maybe things build better when the trees were in pain first.

    That then begged the question, do trees feel pain? But Luke had seen a moon affected by stink and made skeletons bleed, so who fucking knew really. If goo could feel pain a tree might as well be able to too.

    Mumbo got into his boat of magic and witchcraft, grabbing an oar with one completely uninjured hand and gesturing for Luke to join him with his other. Luke gave Mumbo props for still allowing Luke to be anywhere near him, especially in such a space as a small boat about to be in the middle of nothing but water.

    Soon as Luke was in, they were off, crossing the still and serene water faster than Luke expected. There didn’t seem to be many waves or disturbances to slow them down, helping Mumbo’s short strokes with the oars carry them across faster than they could’ve run.

    It wasn’t long before they reached the next shore, where a small house sat near the water. The place almost looked normal, which Luke appreciated. Mumbo then proceeded to inadvertently ruin the moment by somehow putting the boat in his pocket (punching was once again the answer, somehow managing to shrink the boat to the size of a doll’s toy. vaguely, Luke wondered if that would happen to him if he got punched enough), but Luke did his best to ignore that.

    The house proved to be empty, but Mumbo didn’t seem very surprised. “It’s his starter build, I doubt he comes here much anymore. Without elytras it was the faster trip. I’ll just let him know we’re here.”

    Given everything he had seen so far, Luke wouldn’t have been too surprised if Mumbo started yelling into his boot. Luckily enough for what little sanity he might have left, however, Mumbo just pulled a phone-shaped device from one of his pockets and tapped away at it.

    A few minutes later Luke heard a sizzling noise, followed by something hitting the ground with a bit of a thud. He and Mumbo looked over from where they had taken up station on the deck of the house, finding who Luke presumed was Xisuma.

    Should Luke have known to expect nothing of whoever was next to come, given he was already wandering around with a nose-less and perhaps mouth-less man? Yes. Did he? Sadly, no.

    Still, an axolotl man wasn’t really high on his list of ‘random things to expect.’ Maybe that was on him.

    Luke found some relief when the pink suited figure approached them, realizing that he seemed to be wearing some sort of suit that had simply been designed to mimic that of an axolotl's appearance. However, that then begged the question of what was beneath the suit. And the follow-up question, did everyone here wear suits of some sort? Would Luke need a suit? Maybe he could get a fake tux shirt.

    “Good afternoon, my friends.” Xisuma greeted as he came to stand in front of Luke and Mumbo. Luke had hoped he’d take off his helmet, but he didn’t, remaining the axolotl as he turned his focus on Luke. “Luke, I presume?”

    “That’s me.” Luke confirmed. “Sorry to uh. Crash into your day.”

    “If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else crashing my server.”

    “Hey!”     “I named no names.” Xisuma said in response to Mumbo’s offended interjection. “I’m just saying, it’s no bother. Hermitcraft’s always a bit wild. Now, you said this was a respawn error?”

    Luke was saved from having to pretend he actually knew what that meant by Mumbo answering for him. “He came from a hardcore world.”

    Xisuma nodded as if this perfectly explained everything, which Luke supposed it did if you understood any of the words that were being spoken. “Ah, always unfortunate when that happens. Did it have a connected survival world you were supposed to go to?”

    Man, Luke missed doing things through a game. Sure, it had been a fucked up game that subsequently fucked him up, but at least he could take breaks whenever he needed to think something through. If he just ‘took a break’ right here and now to think through a) what the fuck Xisuma meant and b) what the fuck he was supposed to respond with, he’d get, at the very least, a couple of very confused stares. Which would be rude, really, given how well Luke had occasionally been holding in his own confused stare. The least they could theoretically do was also not confused stare.

    “Luke?”

    Okay, he’s already used up too much thinking time to do little to no actual thinking. Answering by the sheer seat of his pants it was.

    “Sorry- uh, no, I don’t think, ah, I don’t think we had anywhere else we were supposed to go after.” Nailed it. Absolutely nailed it.

    Mumbo shook his head. “Some servers really have no understanding of community.”

    “Indeed.” Xisuma agreed, clicking something on the side of his helmet as he spoke. Nothing visible changed, but Luke could just make out an electronic blue tint now shining from within his visor. “Well, your code seems to have come in alright, so you should be good to stay here.”

    Code?! “Stay here?”

    “Assuming you don’t have somewhere else to go.” Xisuma responded, clicking off the blue tint and nodding slightly at Luke in a manner that presumably was meant to be reassuring. “I can take you to the server hub if you do, but only if that’s what you want.”

    Luke glanced between Xisuma and Mumbo. “You don’t even know me.”

    Mumbo shrugged. “Most of us didn’t know anyone when we first joined. It’s a very welcoming place, Hermitcraft.”

    “So, what’ll it be, Luke?” Xisuma asked.

    Luke gave himself a moment to properly think on this one. The server hub might be his escape back to his world, in one form or another. It also might be a red herring, and he might end up lost or stranded somewhere not nearly as nice as this place- Hermitcraft. He could stay here for a bit, get more information about everything, maybe learn how to effectively punch a tree, and then leave later, when he was actually prepared.

    Mind made up, Luke took another quick glance between the others. “If you truly wouldn’t mind my staying-”

    Mumbo’s moustache moved as Luke expected it to if it was hiding a wide grin beneath it, and Xisuma cut him off mid-sentence with, “Wonderful! I’ll inform the other hermits. Mumbo, would you mind helping Luke get set up?”

    “It’d be my pleasure.” Mumbo answered, sounding excited by the whole venture. “I’m sure Boatem will be glad to pitch in as well!”

    Xisuma laughed at that, looking over at Luke. “Boatem will introduce you to the possible chaos of the server very well.”

    Ominous. Maybe Luke should be regretting his choice.

    He and Mumbo chatted a bit more with Xisuma before the axolotl man- apparently the admin of the server- produced a pair of artificial wings and fireworks from a compartment in his suit, handing them off to Luke like the weirdest housewarming (server warming?) gift he had ever received.

    Luckily, as Xisuma left, Luke realized he was wearing a similar pair of wings (painted pink, of course). He hadn’t noticed them at first because of how motionlessly they had laid against the admin’s back, only springing into wing position when Xisuma jumped in place and casually lit a firework in his hand.

    The combined effect of bunny hop and self-arson attempt was flying, by some logic, and Luke realized that was what he was going to have to do in just a moment here, seeing as even as he was thinking this through Mumbo was shrugging on a pair of very mechanical looking wings.

    “Redstone mechanics can keep them in the air longer.” Mumbo explained when he caught Luke staring, mistaking Luke’s wide-eyed look for confusion and not mild fear. He chuckled a bit awkwardly.  “Also makes them a bit explosive… I wouldn’t recommend flying too close to me.”

    Death by falling, death by firework explosion, death by someone else’s wings’ explosion. Luke would never again pick flying as his theoretical superpower.

    Mumbo pulled his own stash of fireworks out of his pocket. “Ready to go?”

    Luke nodded and hastily slipped on his own pair of wings. He could do this. He could definitely do this. Just jump, ignite firework, try not to crash into any trees. Easy peasy.

    Except he must have done something wrong with his jump, because his wings didn't activate, leading to him falling flat on his face, the firework still in hand now wedged between his chest and the ground.

    And then it went off.

    For a moment there was nothing but a lot of smoke and a lot of pain across his chest, Luke managing to force his eyes open when he felt someone pushing him onto his back. Unsurprisingly, he found it was Mumbo, looking horribly panicked. Probably because Luke had just managed to blow himself up without any explosion wings. In his defense, fireworks were still very much an explosive all on their own.

    “Are you okay? Is something wrong with your elytra?” Mumbo questioned as he started rummaging through his pocket with one hand, his other moving faster than Luke could track across him- press on his chest to check the injury, brush over the edge of his wings to check for malfunction, inspection of his firework-holding hand, quick tug on his shirt collar to straighten it as if that mattered, etc. Luke blamed how oddly warm he suddenly felt on firework fire.

    “I'm-” Luke coughed, "fine. Just uh. Bad at flying."

    “It's not for everyone.” Mumbo acknowledged as he found what he was looking for. "Here, this should take care of the burns.”

    Luke decided to not question the fact that what he was being offered for his burns was a golden carrot. Maybe it was magic. Or maybe Mumbo thought he'd look funny in a stupid way trying to use a golden carrot to heal his burns.

    Apparently the latter was true, because Mumbo started laughing as soon as Luke started awkwardly rubbing the carrot over the part on him that had been exploded. “Oh you really did come from a modded server. You eat it.”

    "...It's covered in gold.”

    “Impulse already has his gold farm set up, I can get more.”

    Luke felt he should point out the real issue with the golden carrot was not so much its cost but rather its hard, not-good-for-teeth metal-ness, but he supposed such things weren’t a concern to those who perhaps lacked a mouth. He took a small bite off the very tip of the gilded vegetable, planning on just faking a dislike for the taste and keeping the gold chunk to replace whichever tooth it’d take out.

    Except… the gold wasn’t hard. Somehow. It was clearly gold, and it had that metallic taste to make sure you didn’t forget it, but the most resistance it offered Luke matched that of the carrot it covered. Metallic carrot was hardly a flavour combo to write home about, but it did manage to make Luke feel significantly better.

    He pushed himself up into a sitting position in the same motion he pushed the rest of his fireworks (how any of them had survived the explosion was beyond him) away from him, doing a quick inventory of how much of his chest was left. It was a pleasant surprise when Luke found both his chest and shirt showed no signs of having been so much as singed. Did it make sense? Well of course not, but this time Luke was willing to let it slide without complaint.

    “I take it you don’t want to try that again.” Mumbo noted as he collected Luke’s rejected fireworks.

    “As awesome as that experience was, no, I don’t think I need a second round.”

    Mumbo hummed in agreement, looking pretty thoughtful for a man whose expression existed of only dot eyes and a moustache. After a moment, the thoughtful look changed into one of inspiration. “Would you say your issue with flying is the flying itself, or just the fireworks?”

    “Considering I never even made it off the ground, I think both.” Luke pointed out, getting a chortle from Mumbo before he went on, “But the fireworks were definitely the worst half of it.”

    “So… if you could fly without having to use the fireworks, would that be alright?”

    Luke raised an eyebrow. “I can do that?”

    Mumbo moved his hand in the universal ‘sort of’ gesture. “Not technically, you still need the fireworks, but you don’t have to be the one to deploy them! If you’re holding onto me when I go up, you’ll come up with me, and as long as you don’t smash into any trees we’ll be grand!”

    “And if I do smash into some trees?”

    “...I have a lot of fireworks and golden carrots?” Mumbo offered, and despite the circumstances, Luke laughed. 

    “That’s good enough for me.” Luke got to his feet. “Let’s do this.”

    Mumbo stood up with him, fireworks already slipped into one of his hands. His other shot out and grabbed one of Luke’s as soon as he was done checking his wings, fingers interlocking with Luke’s and giving a small squeeze. His moustache smiled when Luke looked over at him. “Ready?”

    Again, that weird warm feeling. Maybe Luke had inhaled some gunpowder. That’s how gunpowder worked, right?

    For reasons somewhat beyond Luke’s comprehension, he squeezed Mumbo’s hand back before replying, “As ever.”

    Moustache smile remained for a moment before Mumbo turned his gaze forward, taking in the various possible hazards before he started counting down, “Three… two… one… away!”

    And this time, when the firework went off, Luke actually went airborne. He would be lying if he didn’t admit it was mildly terrifying. Or that he mildly screamed.

    It wasn’t as if Luke had never flown before, alright? But those times had been in planes, completely and safely enclosed planes, planes with powerful jets and floors he could rest his weight on. Here the only thing keeping him up were the wings attached to his back, that he didn’t control, all while he did his best to not flail about in the wind.

    Sensing (or maybe just seeing, given, y’know, the flailing) Luke’s discomfort (panic), Mumbo squeezed his hand again and did his best to tug him closer as they flew. His wings whirred and clicked as he guided them through the skies with practiced precision, able to time his firework usage to the moment before either he or Luke would hit a tree or mountain or building.

    As the initial shock and fear began to fade, Luke found himself enjoying the flight. The world rushing by them, so far away and yet so close all at once, was a wonder of colours, wildlife, and exquisite architecture. It was an incredible place, Luke could see, a good place to settle down in. Be it for a little time or longer.

    Finally, as Mumbo approached a mountainous area populated with minor and major builds alike all circling some sort of odd totem pole, the flight came to an end. Mumbo slowed them as they approached the ground, letting go of Luke's hand as he carefully straightened himself just in time to land solidly on his feet. He likely assumed Luke would do the same.

    Obviously, Luke fell over instead.

    He was saved from a complete repeat of earlier by Mumbo catching him at the last moment, posed almost as if Mumbo had dipped him in a dance instead. Mumbo flushed in embarrassment, quickly pulling Luke up to his feet. Unfortunately, because Luke really had not stuck any part of his landing, he immediately tripped over his feet and ended up supporting himself against Mumbo’s chest.

    “Oh, fuck, I’m-” Mumbo’s eyes widened at the swear, and Luke said another three in his head, “I mean- frick- uh- sorry, I’m sorry, two left feet or something, let me just-”

    Luke finally regained his footing, taking a few fast steps away from Mumbo as he did so, throwing in another apology as he did so. 

    “It’s, um, quite alright.” Mumbo managed. He seemed… frazzled, to put it lightly, taking a moment to comb out both his hair and moustache. Luke used the time to shrug off his wings, awkwardly shoving them under his arm once he had.

    Eventually, once he was satisfied with the quality of his hair, Mumbo did the same, fiddling with the back of his mechanical wings before slipping them magically into his pocket as he had done with the boat. He shot Luke an odd look. “Are you going to put your elytra away?”

    Luke was tempted to say no, he wanted it out, he actually liked hauling it around like this thank you very much, but he figured at best it’d be taken as a joke. Instead, he nodded slowly, trying not to look as hesitant or as stupid as he felt as he slowly attempted to lower the ‘elytra’ towards his pocket area.

    For all luck hadn’t been with him today, his efforts worked- the elytra shrunk right before it reached his pocket, slipping right in with no issue. Luke let out a small breath. He had successfully used shrinking technology via magic. He was so cool.

    “Right then.” Mumbo said, sounding as though he didn’t think Luke was so cool and was instead wondering why it had taken Luke so long to do such a simple task and look so relieved about it. “That aside, welcome to Boatem! Allow me to show you our namesake.”

    Luke followed Mumbo over to the odd totem pole he had seen when they were landing. Upon closer inspection, he found it was composed mainly of boats stacked precariously on top of each other. He also learned it was set right over what appeared to be a hole straight to the center of nothingness.

    “Here stands the Boatem pole, the humble beginnings of our corporation.” Mumbo explained, gesturing at the pole before gesturing at the pit of doom and despair. “This is the Boatem hole, to which we offer sacrifices and occasionally meet up in.”

    “Where does it… go?” Luke asked hesitantly, not entirely sure he wanted the answer, but also not wanting to ask why it had needed sacrifices.

    “Into the void and out of the world.” Mumbo answered much, much too casually. “Try not to fall in.”

    Luke took several very big steps away from the Boatem hole. “Like a portal? Or does the… the Void just live in the middle of the world?”

    Mumbo raised an eyebrow. “Middle of the-? It goes to the other side of the world, in a sense. I’m not quite sure that’s a middle.”

    For a moment, Luke let the words settle in. Took some time to really absorb them. Truly understand them. Then, “This is a flat earth?!”

    “...Yes?”

    Being in a world where the flat earthers were right was, objectively, not the worst part of Luke’s day so far. But it certainly didn’t feel good.

    “Maybe we should save the touring of Boatem for another day?” Mumbo said haltingly, pausing for a second before placing his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “You look like you’re going to fall over.”

    Dramatic as it might sound, Luke knew Mumbo was probably right. The flat earth thing was just the tipping point on a very long day he had only been partially registering. After all, he had just died. And been teleported, falling from the sky, into a completely new world. And watched a man with no mouth repeatedly punch a tree. These things take a toll on you.

    “I- yeah, yeah, maybe I’m a bit tired.” Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

    Even lacking a nose and mouth, Mumbo’s expression was kindly sympathetic. “Dying and switching servers is a lot for one day. Why don’t we have some tea, I’ll tell you about everyone, and we save tomorrow for the rest of it?”

    “...Anything stronger than tea?”

    “Not my cuppa.” Mumbo responded, shooting a conspiratorial glance around before adding in a quieter tone, “It is, however, many others’ cuppas.”

    Luke snorted. Yeah. Yeah, this could be okay.

[yanderefoeyay]

A Brothers Care

For @katzanone ! Merry Christmas!! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope I gave you that Unsui goodness!

Unsui knew something was wrong, ever since yesterday his body had begun to betray him, his throat was sore, his muscles felt weak and he had a headache, he didn’t know what had caused this, infection? Stress? Well the fact that he generally didn’t take care of himself too well outside of training might be a factor, one he didn’t enjoy the thought of, sure he went out for runs in winter in just a hoodie and the fact he was pulling all nighters for a test but plenty of people do that and are fine so what is he? Just unlucky as usual…

He woke up the next morning, not any better, hell maybe even worse, his head was swimming when he stood up but he didn’t let it deter him, he staggered out his room and walked towards the kitchen, he could hear Agon was awake in his own room, up early for once weirdly, he pushed all his focus on each next step his breath more laboured than it should have been, he managed to take one step into the kitchen when the black spots in his vision started to take over completely, he fell limb and heavy to the wooden floor, a loud thud echoed in the quiet home, Agon emerged from his room annoyed by the noise bothering his hangover “What the hell are you doing Unko Chan?!” He walked down the hallway and saw his brother collapsed and rushed over frantically “UNSUI!” He shook him, no response, he was panicking now, he moved Unsui from his back to onto his side, into the recovery position and immediately went to grab the phone and call for help.

A few hours had passed and Unsui finally awoke, weakly opening his eyes he saw he was in his own room in bed, Agon sat on the edge staring at him.

“Agon?..” “Don’t try to speak idiot you need all the energy you can get” Unsui went back to silence, his dry sore throat thanking him for it “you almost gave me a heart attack yknow baldy? You were just lying there like a corpse, I swear I could feel time slow down waiting for the ambulance, then the doctor finally gets here and she tells me you’ve got a fever and fatigue, making me panic over something that simple, I swear the minute you’re better I’m kicking your ass and sending you to the hospital for something actually serious” Unsui let’s a small smile rest on his face ‘So you panicked over me huh?’ Feeling warmth seep into his heart at the fact his brother does genuinely care even if he has a weird way of showing it.

“You’re not going to school or training for awhile” Unsui immediately tried to get up and object but Agon pushed him back down and sneered at him disapprovingly “Don’t you dare Unko chan you’re not going anywhere and I’m going to make sure of it” Unsuis brows furrowed unhappily but knew he wasn’t going to win in any case so he fully relaxed and got comfortable even if he still had some internal guilt at the thought of not being productive, and as if Agon could read his mind he said “Thinking like that is what got you here in the first place so consider this whole experience a lesson dumbass”.

Agon really meant it when he said he was going to make sure Unsui stay put and his method of doing so was becoming Unsui’s nurse.

A thought that worried Unsui cause although Agon was incredibly intelligent he also left Unsui to do all the household chores, so now Unsui was stressed that the house was getting messy and the fact Agon was cooking God knows what for him.

Agon came busting through the door, tray in hand, a smirk on his face “Your 5 Star care service is here, be thankful sicko” Unsui was already wondering if Agon looking after him was actually helping or adding to the fatigue as Agon plopped down the tray onto his lap, he didn’t know what to expect but he was pleasantly surprised to see a cheese omelette with toast and fruit on the side with juice, it looked great, he looked to Agon for a moment who had a smug look on his face, telling him to eat up and immediately tucked in, it was delicious, he felt so refreshed after, he finished and was about to thank Agon but instead he felt a hand pet his head softly, an action Agons always been fond of since they were kids, a way to easily show affection without awkward words, and only said “Get some sleep” before picking up the tray and leaving the room, a satisfied smile on his face.

Unsui leaned back in his pillow feeling content and loved, and drifted off happily.

It continued like this for a few more days, Agon being equal parts snarky and warm towards him. He was glad he got to see this side of him others didn’t, know that even after all these years, and all they’d been through they still cared about and loved each other and in these past few days Unsui truly saw that version of Agon he was before all the ego got to him.

Agon saw the same in Unsui, his stoic brother who rarely showed weakness and always pushed himself to hard was now smiling happily at him when he walked through the door to take his temperature to see if his fever had subsided, he hadn’t seen that smile in awhile and especially not aimed at him, he smiled back but acted nonchalant about it, can’t have Unko chan thinking he’s going soft.

He took his temperature, it was Normal and all signs of fatigue were gone, he had made a full recovery, all thanks to his brothers care.