#excuse my shitty humour

[theworldshouldhaveendedin2012]

d20 twitter is crazy bc i think they hate the players???? like atp i think they just don’t like their sense of humour and like very potentially maybe don’t know how dnd works bc i think anyone else would get their decisions on the princesses. reasoning with the princesses would be down to rolls that destiny’s children could not clear they are bad socially. also like why do they get to decide that everyone is destroyed like they’re like 6 ppl??? the players’ plan of everyone getting part of a true book gives them control like yh ig if u wanna stop existing dip it in ink but why tf do we all have to get drowned in ink????

neverafter and a starstruck odyssey have had these treatments of being dnfed and hated on in ways that end up as critiques of like the players’ personalities which i hate. norman was created to be brainslugged. he wasn’t a shitty guy bc he got screwed over he was a shitty guy and he got screwed over. the princesses were created to show the party that they didn’t want to completely erase the neverafter. it would be easy to ally with the princesses over the fairies: we don’t want to go back so let’s start over. but the princesses are blinded by pain and want to use that to excuse the apocalypse. they have sympathy for them and maybe if they’d been luckier with the dice they could have reasoned with them but the dice spoke lol.

i have more opinions but imo neverafter slaps and is worth watching and i love my millennials sm

[desert-fern]

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw X Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve had Rooster’s eye since he first met you, the only problem? You were in a relationship. But when you come to the Hard Deck newly single, looking to have a good time, your ex reappears. Things get heated, what’s a man to do other than shoot his shot (and maybe throw a few punches)?

Warnings: swearing, cheating (not from our main characters), confrontation about cheating, physical fights (it is a bar fight after all), reader is a quippy little shit. Lmk if I missed anything.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: hey all! Welcome to my second ever Rooster oneshot and my entry for @roosterforme’s Rocktober event! This piece is inspired by Van Halen’s Jump and is my excuse to write a bar fight.

===

Friday nights out with Mason sucked. Well, the drinks were always good at the Hard Deck, the other Navy men who frequented on Fridays were very pleasing to look at, the only shitty thing was, well, Mason. He would ditch you multiple times throughout the night, spending hours chatting with people he saw at work all day while you sat awkwardly in your seat people-watching.

Needless to say, you didn’t like those Friday nights very much. The nights where it was just the two of you were wonderful; you had his undivided attention and it was just easy. Your boyfriend would be all over you, smothering you with affection and it was so unlike the pilot you had come to know.

Mason just became a completely different person when he went out to the Navy bars with you. Maybe it was your fault, you weren’t really the kind of person who liked going out, so you couldn’t really blame him if he ditched you.

That was reasonable right?

Those were your thoughts as you sat at the bar, sipping on your water watching Mason and his group of friends chat with a group of girls. “You doing okay?” A voice next to you asked.

You turned, catching sight of what was probably the prettiest man you’d ever seen. Tall with tan skin just the right side of sunburnt, his whiskey coloured eyes were watching you over a pair of aviators perched on the edge of his nose. You swallowed, watching as his biceps moved, straining against the white and yellow printed Hawaiian shirt. “Yeah,” you croaked out, wincing at the sound. “Uh, yes. I’m alright, thanks.”

He smiled at you, his mustache crinkling just a little and you had to take a sip of your drink to try and keep your composure. “Glad to hear it. I’m Bradley, most people around here call me Rooster though.”

“Good to meet you, Bradley,” you replied, smiling back at him. You introduced yourself and couldn’t help but grin when he repeated your name back to you, loving the way it rolled off his tongue.

“Are you here with anyone?”

You nodded, smiling sadly. “I am. My boyfriend is over- well he was over there. I don’t know where he went,” you said after a minute. “But I don’t mind a little conversation.”

Bradley grinned. “Glad to hear it. So, at the risk of sounding like a sleaze, you come here often?” You could hear the humour in his tone and it made you laugh.

“I do, but it’s really not my scene.”

“Not a fan of the Navy?”

You shook your head. “That’s not it, my boyfriend is a pilot for the Navy. I’m just not really one for crowds,” you admitted. Your job as a nurse brought you close to a lot of people and sometimes, all you wanted was just to cuddle up on the couch with Mason and watch a movie. However, your boyfriend was much more of a social butterfly than you were and you often went along with what he wanted for the sake of not arguing.

But Friday nights were ‘for the boys’ so you often got dragged along to the bar whether or not you wanted to go.

“Did you want to step outside? I’d hate for my gorgeous but taken conversation partner to be uncomfortable,” Bradley said, shooting you a sly wink that had warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“Does that line often work for you?” You teased, enjoying how his blush grew.

He took a swig of his beer, rolling the bottle between his palms on the bar top before replying. “Wasn’t a line, sweetheart. You’re taken, but I can’t understand how he could so easily leave someone like you sitting all alone.”

You had to bite your lip to stifle the grin that threatened to grow larger the longer you sat chatting with Bradley. A reply was half way out of your mouth when a hand gripped your arm and you heard Mason’s voice next to your head. “Piss off Bradshaw, she’s taken.”

“Maso-” you started, but Bradley took a step back from you. You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you had been, practically sharing the same breath, but now, it was like someone had doused you with ice cold water. “We were just-”

“I don’t care,” your boyfriend growled. “Stay the fuck away from him.”

“Why?” You demanded. “You fucking ditch me at the bar YOU wanted to go to and expect me to not talk to anyone? Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“Cannon…” Bradley muttered. “Of fucking course.”

Mason turned to look at you and you had never seen this kind of look in his eyes before. He looked dangerous, a wildness seemed to have taken over his entire being and you were scared. “Don’t embarrass me,” he hissed softly, his grip tightening around your arm.

Bradley must have seen the look of shock in your eyes because he stepped in. “Cannon, man, we were just talking. Let her go.”

Your arm was released and you finally took notice of his dishevelled appearance, a stone plunging your stomach down, down, down. You had known. Smelt the perfume that was not yours, you never wore it because Mason had claimed it gave him a headache. You had turned a blind eye to the random scratches, the strange bruises, even the lipstick on his shirts. You had willingly chosen to push your doubts aside for the sake of living the same boring life you had lived for the better part of two years.

But not anymore.

Pushing your doubt down, you let him lead you out of the bar, making the short trip to your car. You drove in a stony silence, ignoring every criticism Mason threw your way. But you said nothing, at this moment, you weren’t his girlfriend but his DD, and you thought long and hard about what you wanted from your life. If you were honest with yourself, it wasn’t Mason.

You wanted the simple life you had before he’d stumbled into your life with all the grace of a drunk elephant, a fairly apt description for Mason as a person.

He had made it fucking transparent that the last two years were a waste of your time. Mason’s friend, Max or Nuke as he was known to your boyfriend, lived a few blocks away from the bar, it was his house where you dropped him off, all but pushing him out of the car. “Don’t call me,” you snapped, watching his face go from confused to angry. “We’re done. I’m bringing your shit here tomorrow.”

The drive back to your place was strangely quiet. No drunk ranting, no criticising your shyness in the bar, none of that. It was like you pulled the bag off your head, unknowing that it was suffocating you and now you were finally breathing fresh air again. You thought back to Bradley, his strong arms, the ease with which he’d carried himself and the pink hue of his cheeks when you’d teased him back.

He was different.

And maybe you deserved different, but maybe that was your newly-single brain getting ahead of itself. All you knew is that your heart felt lighter as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, it was freeing and constricting all at once.

Inside, you ignored your phone buzzing incessantly. You plugged your phone in, ignoring the flash of angry messages that appeared as quickly as you could blink. You groaned, watching as Mason’s name popped up on your phone, this time calling you, but it disappeared just as fast, clearly he hadn’t meant to call you. It took less than 10 seconds for you to power your phone off, the screen going black as your eyes finally gained a reprieve from the onslaught of angry, hateful messages directed at you.

Mason could sober up before you had any type of conversation with him, not that you would be doing so for a long time, but still. He ran a short fuse, blowing up so quickly over the smallest things. You figured you were saving yourself the headache of not engaging, so you began to grab his things, throwing them in a pile in the living room.

Somewhere between cleaning out his clothes and throwing his knick knacks into the living room, you felt a tear run down your cheek. “He doesn’t deserve these tears,” you muttered angrily, swiping them away. “He didn’t deserve you.”

===

A few months later, you let your friend and coworker bully you into going out with her. You had often told Blair about your people watching at the Navy Bar and it had only taken one mention of it from you and she had been obsessed with the idea.

Now that you were single, for a whole three months, as Blair had ever so helpfully pointed out, she had decided that it was time for you to get back out there.

So here she was standing in your bedroom, clothing scattered around her as she pulled shirt after dress out of your closet. “Why have I never seen any of these before?! This shirt would look so hot on you!”

Shaking your head, you had to say that you didn’t know. “I just never felt comfortable wearing it around Mason’s friends and-”

“And you two never went out without at least one of his douchey friends.” Blair finished for you, giving you a look. “I swear, hon, his cock must have been huge for you to put up with his BS for as long as you did.”

You snorted. “That’s the sad part…”

“No! He was a fuckhead who cheated, a selfish bastard, and he had a micropeen?!” Blair exclaimed, whirling around to look at you. “Why were you with him to begin with? And don’t say that he was different when you first met. Mason wasn’t smart enough to hide all of that.”

The room was silent for a beat before the both of you burst into laughter. “I don’t even know why I said yes when he asked me out!”

“Girl! Me neither!”

You’d doubled over, clutching at your stomach as you laughed. It had morphed into a cackle of a sound, filling the room with raucous noise that had Blair laughing harder.

Tears streamed down your faces as you both tried your hardest to calm your breathing. “Here,” Blair said breathlessly. “Wear this.” She threw a pair of tight, high waisted blue denim shorts at you, a pair that you had bought once and quickly forgot about. Which was a shame, because these shorts in particular had two star-shaped cutouts filled in with red fabric on the ass.

You paled a little, thinking about what would happen if Mason had seen these shorts. “You broke up with him,” the little voice in your head chided. “Who gives a shit what Mason would’ve thought. You’d look hot.” So you grabbed them and a black tank top, changing quickly before Blair wrangled you into getting your makeup done.

The little voice in your head had been right, you did look hot. You could feel eyes on you from the moment you and Blair walked into the Hard Deck and while you wanted to run and hide, the thought of proving Mason wrong kept you motivated to at least have some semblance of fun. And that’s exactly what you did. You found yourself chatting up at the bar with another aviator who’d introduced himself as Fanboy. “You look familiar,” he’d said when he came up to the bar to buy another round for his group in the back of the room.

“She used to come here with her ex-boyfriend,” Blair chimed in, shooting you a wink before she slipped away to join the crowd around what looked like an intense darts game.

Fanboy - Mickey - had paused a little at her words before turning back to you. He’d asked you about your job, seeming very interested when you took the time to explain what you did. It was one of the best conversations you’d had in a while, both parties very interested in what the other had to say.

You didn’t know how long you’d been chatting when a dark haired woman in jeans and a plain t-shirt appeared by Mickey’s side. “So this is where our drinks went,” she teased, watching you both flush. “Why don’t you invite her over to the table, that way Jake stops whining about a pretty redhead picking Javy over him.”

He turned back to you. “Did you want to come hang with the rest of the group?” You must have hesitated because he quickly backtracked. “Or I can go run these over to them and I’ll come back.”

“No, it’s fine. Lead the way,” you told him, grabbing your drink. “Who picked this song?” You mumbled under your breath, wrinkling your nose at the Motley Crüe song blaring out of the juke box set against the side of the bar.

The woman snorted. “That would be Jake. Tall, blonde, dumb as he is tall. I’m sure you know the type.”

Biting back a laugh, you nodded. “Though if he’s a pilot like most of the people here, he can’t be that dumb.”

“Only when it comes to emotions.”

Ahh. One of those. You wove through the crowd, dodging groups of college aged girls all trying their hand at snaring a Navy man for a night.

Mickey stopped, dropping the drinks on a table nearby. “Finally! What took you so long, Nerd-Boy?” A tall Black man chided teasingly.

“Shut it, Lay-Back,” Mickey quipped back and you had to bite your cheek to hide your laugh at the banter that erupted on your arrival. “I was preoccupied.”

The woman behind you snagged a beer and flopped onto a stool near the edge of the pool table. “Guys come on. If you keep this up, he’ll never be post-occupied.”

“Nix c’mon!”

“That was awful.”

You watched their joking with interest, keen on figuring out their dynamic. No one seemed to act better than anyone else, namely the pilots who you learned were Phoenix, Payback, Coyote (or Javy to Blair who was leaning against his chest), and then Hangman AKA the ‘dumb as he is tall’ Jake. It was refreshing to see a group of people who had the same job as Nathan and his asshole friends, but who were the most welcoming people you’d met in a while.

“So,” Payback said, turning the conversation away from that morning’s hop. “What possessed you to follow Fanboy of all people?”

You swallowed harshly, feeling their attention turn to you. “He actually asked me questions about myself rather than try and slide into my shorts for a night.”

A few “ooohs” rose out of the crowd, the pilots around you chuckling at how quickly you’d lambasted Payback for his bad question. You just shrugged and took a sip of your drink, ignoring the little whoop Blair had let out.

“Well, well, well,” Jake suddenly said, smirking at something behind you. “Looks like Birdbrain finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

You turned and nearly gasped. The man behind you gave you a crooked smile before replying. “I was a little busy.”

“Rooster,” you breathed, finding yourself suddenly very shy. He looked the same as he did the night you had met, maybe better because now you were single, but regardless. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He was watching you closely, brown eyes flicking back and forth over you as you averted your eyes. “Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything okay?”

You nodded, meeting his eyes and promptly feeling your face turn a brilliant red under his gaze. “Yeah uh… I’ve been busy at work.”

Bradley moved to stand beside you, grabbing the lone bottle on the counter and taking a swig. “You’re a nurse, right? Long shifts?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes at Blair who was making a kissy face in your direction. “Just had a lot on my mind lately, plus crowds…”

“...aren’t your thing,” he finished for you, laughing at your reaction to the woman under Javy’s arm.

Your eyes shot up to meet his, your mouth falling agape at his words. “You remembered.”

“That I did, sweetheart.”

A flush spread up your neck. Somehow it had been easier to flirt when you weren’t single and now you felt like a goldfish that someone had plucked out of the water. Completely out of your element and you felt like dying at your uncertainty. “Lucky me,” you breathed, sipping your drink. “A man like you remembering little ole me? That never happens.”

“How could I not, sweetheart?” The grin on Bradley’s face sent butterflies racing through your stomach, the charm just radiating off of him. “You made quite the impression.”

You gave him a flat look. “My social awkwardness was enough to catch your eye? Nice try, Bradley, but I’m not buying it,” you replied teasingly, watching his eyes light up. “That poor attempt at a line doesn’t work on me anyways.”

“Who said it was a line?”

A loud smacking noise had you and Bradley jolting away from one another, suddenly becoming aware of the fact that there were other people in the room besides the two of you. “Finally!” Phoenix said, rolling her eyes. “There are other people here besides you two, ya know.”

“Sorry…”

“Sorry Nix. Couldn’t help myself,” Bradley said, sheepishly. A hand came up to tuck his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt and you couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t changed from your memory. Still kind, still handsome as all hell, still dressed in a loud Hawaiian shirt. This one had white and orangey coloured flowers against a creamy light yellow fabric. But it was him and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since you’d met.

Despite that, you let yourself get dragged into a game of pool, pairing up with Phoenix against Bob and Mickey. You hadn’t played in a long time, so you weren’t great, but everyone else was sort of around your skill level so it wound up being more fun than you’d thought. “Okay, so after that show of mediocrity, anything will look good,” Hangman said loudly, clapping his hands and snatching a pool cue off the wall.

“Just means that we set the average. If you lose, you’ll land among us,” you snarked back, grinning widely at him. “No pressure.”

A hand on your lower back startled you and you spun around only to come face to chest with Bradley’s sunglasses. “Hear that? You got a lot riding on this one, Bagman,” he jeered over your head, shooting you a wink after. “You wanna take him on with me?”

“I’m not…”

“It’s just for fun, sweetheart. No pressure at all.”

“Sure. Why not?”

And you were off. Round and round the table you went, watching Jake and Bradley duke it out over the velvety table. But when it finally came time for your turn, you had to lean over the table far more than you had initially wanted, giving the pilots and Bradley behind you a good look at your ass in those shorts. You could feel his gaze on the red stars neatly framing your hips in the colour, and you preened a little.

A solid hit with your cue, you stood up, watching the white ball shoot towards a purpley coloured one and send it careening into the pocket. “Yes!” you whooped, jumping up in your excitement, bumping into Bradley behind you. “Oops.”

“All good sweetheart. No harm done,” the lazy smile on his face had your knees buckling and you quickly grabbed the pool table, using it to steady yourself. “Besides, I’m tougher than I look.”

You laughed, the sound mixing with the general din of the bar and you watched as Bradley’s eyes filled with the same mirth that was bubbling inside of you. “Self-burns are rare to witness,” you teased, grinning wider at the look that skittered across his face.

“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

“Yup.”

He groaned jokingly, his lips twisting into a devilish smile that sent heat racing down your spine to pool between your thighs. “Damn it. I was hoping to play it cool.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but shut it quickly when Jake started complaining about the pair of you taking too long and Bradley stepped up to play his turn. You watched the two of them keep at it, playing as though neither you nor Mickey were there. “I’m going to grab another drink, did you want anything?” you asked, setting your cue against the wall.

“Nah, I’m good. Before you go, I’m guessing you’re more into him than me?” Mickey saw the surprise cascade over your face. “It’s okay! I just want to know if I should get my hopes up.”

“I’m sorry Mickey, that really wasn’t fair to you at all,” you apologized. “I do have another friend that I think would be perfect for you, but I am sorry for wasting your night.”

“Hey. It’s fine. Seriously,” he added when catching your unconvinced look. “I still won. Rooster finally shut up about the pretty girl he met a while back that was dating this douche we have to work with. You did us all a favour.” Mickey gave you a kind smile, before turning back to the game and leaving you standing in shock at how calmly he’d handled the rejection.

But you didn’t dwell on it long. You needed another drink; the first one long gone by now. Penny had just handed it over when a voice from behind you caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. “So this is where I find you, you fucking cunt.”

Only one voice sounded like that and it belonged to your ex.

Fucking Mason.

You groaned, turning around with your new drink in hand. “Can I help you?” A few of the people next to you, two men and a woman dressed in civvies, dropped their own conversation, listening intently on the drama that was sure to unfold. “I was fairly certain I told you not to contact me in any way.”

“You fucking abandoned me at Nuke’s place! Didn’t even have the courtesy to call him!” Mason growled, stepping closer to you. “I had to explain what happened like a fucking loser!” You could smell the alcohol on him. He reeked of it, his sweater wafting vodka-flavoured fumes in your direction each time he moved. Biting your tongue, you shifted in place, keeping your body close to the bar and watching for Nuke or another of Mason’s cronies to make an appearance.

Normally by now, you’d be trying to placate him, telling him not to make a scene and to lower his tone. Tonight however, you couldn’t find it within you to care. If he yelled and threw a tantrum, that was on him, not you. “How is any of that my problem, Mason? You cheated, and had been doing so for months as I later learned. You literally fucked around and found out.”

Mason’s face turned a shade of purple you’d never seen before. There was madness in his eyes and you finally learned why they had called him ‘Cannon’. He was unstable, quick to anger, and once set off, nothing could be taken back. “How can you be so unaffected?! I was the best thing that ever happened to you! No one loved you. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be the same ugly bitch I met two years ago.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mason,” you told him calmly. You had no idea if the whole bar had gone quiet; all you could hear was your frantic heartbeat thrumming like a butterfly’s wings. “You were a stepping stone to who I really am. If I meant so little to you, then why not love me and leave me like you did to all those girls you had in between?”

You paused, drawing in a sharp breath and trying to ground yourself in the moment. Trying to force yourself to pause, to centre yourself. “I’ll tell you why. It was never me who needed you. You needed me.” Taking a step forwards, you forced your eyes to meet his own, taking stock of the wildness that raged unhindered in the deep blue of his irises. “Your game wasn’t fun unless I had no idea. You needed me to make you feel good about yourself. By all means, live in your delusion, but let’s not kid ourselves and say that this break up was my fault.”

Mason let out an unintelligible noise, his hand flying out and slapping you. The sound echoed through the room, snapping your head to the side. “You whore!”

It took you not even ten seconds to right yourself and punch him back, your fist slamming into his nose with a sickening crunch. Blood stained your knuckles and you watched his face contort in pain as his nose began to bleed and he let out a shout of pain. “If anyone’s the whore it’s you, Mason. You got laid more times by women other than me so often your body count is higher than a fucking motel bed.”

He lunged for you, anger staining his face a brilliant scarlet that matched your shorts, but was blocked by one of the men who had been standing next to you. Mason’s fist thudded against this man’s arm, shock evident on his face.

A few seconds passed. No one moved. Mason was still held by this other man, who was both taller and wider than him. You stood against the bar watching it all slowly tick down. “5, 4, 3,” you thought to yourself, noticing how some of the men in the room looked twitchy. “2, 1.”

Just as the opening notes of Van Halen’s Jump blared through the jukebox, the man holding Mason swung, clipping him in the jaw and sending him sprawling back into another man, who spilled his drink all over himself. He whirled around, shoving your ex away and yelling at him.

Shouts erupted, fists began flying as the bar dissolved into complete chaos as small fights broke out. People jumped out of the way and you heard a few glasses smash against the floor. You heard Jake’s loud “What the fuck?!” over the din as he waded through the fight, dodging a rogue fist that went for his stomach.

The Navy personnel were trying to stay out of it. The Daggers at the back were standing in barely concealed shock as a girl shrieked like a banshee and came running at you. She grabbed your hair, yanking you away from the bar with a surprisingly strong grip. “Fuck you!” You yelled as you kicked a leg out to trip her.

She fell, hauling you to the ground with her. You landed on top of her, prying your hair from her fist, feeling some strands get ripped out as you tried to stand up. Wrenching yourself from her grasp, you backed up, tucking yourself against the bar once again. You saw Mason get shoved back from a group of men, his hands coming up to swing at his attacker, but fail and get punched in the face for his trouble.

Rooster saw the red flash of your shorts through a hole in the crowd and immediately pushed his way through the people, ignoring Phoenix’s hand trying to hold him back. He couldn’t see you anymore; he saw Cannon swinging wildly nearby and his heart sank, praying that it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t. Thankfully.

His focus was diverted when a punch went wide, slamming into his mid-back and making him stumble forwards a step. Bradley whirled around, glowering at the man, a young pilot on base, until he raised his hands in surrender. “Go home,” he snapped, watching the younger man blink in what looked like fear before backing up against the wall and staying out of the way.

Bradley pushed his way over to where he last saw you, but found nothing. You had vanished and the bodies thudding into one another, smashing glasses, and shouts did nothing to help him find you. He was tall enough to see over most of the crowd, but unfortunately it gave him no advantage in trying to find you. Half the girls in the bar were dressed like you and unless he could see your face or your ass, he would come up empty every time.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You screeched loudly, slamming your hand against a man’s throat when he groped you. He started wheezing, anger in his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, still advancing on you all the while.

A hand grabbed the man’s shoulder and you caught a glimpse of Rooster’s mustached face over his shoulder. “Get lost.”

The man in front of you turned around, eyes widening a little when he saw Bradley behind him. “I was just-”

“I don’t care what you were doing.” The chill in Rooster’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you could see that the man in front of you was scared shitless. “She told you to fuck off.”

Under Bradley’s firm gaze, the other man ducked his head and hurried off into the crowd, tossing a half-hearted apology your way. “What the fuck happened?”

You opened your mouth to reply but quickly shut it having seen Mason run up behind him, a beer glass in hand. “Behind you!”

He turned quickly, catching a glimpse of Mason who froze in his tracks. You couldn’t see what happened next, but you did see Bradley’s head snap to the side and next thing you knew Mason hit the floor with a crash. “Fucking coward. Starting a bar fight because you cheated on your girlfriend and she called you out.”

He crouched down, mouth close to Mason’s face and hissed out “You’re fucking lucky that there’s witnesses and that your ex-girlfriend is watching this whole thing, otherwise I’d make sure you looked as small as you made her feel.”

Unable to watch more of this, you stepped forwards, letting your hand fall on his shoulder. Bradley’s head turned, his eyes softening as he took you in. “He’s not worth it,” you mumbled, barely audible over the noise in the bar. “Let Penny ring the bell and let him get his ass beat tomorrow in training.”

Bradley stood, towering over Mason before kicking his leg and turning to pull you into his arms. “You okay?”

“Ish… my cheek hurts. Fucker got me good.” You cast a look over his face, smoothing your thumb over his jaw, prodding gently at the red mark that had started blooming from Mason’s fist. “Are you okay?”

“Fine now.” He brushed your concern off, a small smile beginning to form as he saw the concern in your eyes. Even after a bar fight that you had inadvertently started, you were still concerned for him. You had faced your ex head on and he’d laid his hands on you. Sure you’d hit him back, but he’d still drawn blood when your teeth had smacked against your lip.

But here you were, in his arms, asking him to follow your finger so you knew that he really was okay. Cannon hadn’t deserved you and Bradley had thought of no one but you since you’d agreed to chat with him that one night months ago.

“Sweetheart, I’m fine,” he finally said, catching your hand in his own. “Trust me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Your heart stuttered from its steady pace. The sincerity in his brown eyes gave you pause because you couldn’t believe that this man, another Navy pilot, could be so different from your ex. “I know,” you whispered. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I nearly had to call an ambulance because my fuckhead of an ex tried to knock you out.”

Bradley snorted, shaking his head at your scathing words. “I liked ‘fuckhead’ better than Cannon anyways.”

“Seriously? That’s what you took away from this?”

He shot you a lopsided grin, the end of his mustache tilting a little with the expression. “I’m pretty sure I got you in all of this, sweetheart. Best prize I ever won.”

“Who says you won me?” You shot back, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break free under the teasing look Bradley was giving you. You had found yourself doing that all night, every comment, each passing look you’d been given had filled you up with giddiness.

“I do, if you’ll have me, that is.” A hand brushed hair over your ear and you couldn’t contain the shiver that the gesture elicited. “If not, then I hope you let me try and win you over.”

You couldn’t hide the smile that erupted at his words. The bar fight continued in small pockets around the room, but right now with Bradley’s hand resting just above the swell of your ass as you curled into his side, you found a peace you didn’t know you needed.

Looking up, you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “All good things require a leap of faith, right?” He nodded, smiling down at you. “Might as well jump if you’re there to catch me.”

===

A/N: So there we have it! Rocktober is checked off my WIP list now! Now to make sure I don’t start anything new 😂 Big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 for punching the shit out of my imposter syndrome and being the best beta-reader a girl could ask for!

Tagging: @roosterforme @startrekfangirl2233 @cassiemitchell @sarahsmi13s @cherrycola27 @multifandomlover4life @horseshoegirl @bobgasm @thedroneranger @beyondthesefourwalls @dcyllom

Like this and want to be tagged? Join my taglist!

[serpentarius]

been trying to wrap my head around the cancellation of "Our Flag Means Death" and why it hurts so fucking much. lots of folks who are much more eloquent than I have summed it up perfectly, but I still think it’s important I add my voice to the matter. 

It really, really sucks that the hurt is being compounded on us every time another queer/minority-led show gets prematurely cancelled. and for a long while, we also had to deal with the many shows that deliberately queerbaited us, which was a shitty and traumatic experience unto its own. And even though we’ve largely surpassed that early-‘00s-flavoured brand of queerbait now, mainstream queer media is still predominantly white-led. With the cancellation of OFMD, we've lost one of the very few intersectional queer shows in the mainstream. Shouldn’t we be beyond asking for crumbs at this point? Shouldn’t we get unabashedly intersectional shows helmed by and starring queer, BIPOC, and trans folks without them being axed for no rhyme or reason?

It’s exhausting at this point, honestly. OFMD has done so well in terms of viewership and engagement and fan response—almost entirely due to word of mouth and little thanks to the Max marketing team, mind you—and even still the show got cancelled? Can they make it make sense????

For me, the thing most akin to this OFMD situation was when Sense8 got cancelled. And yes, the fandom fought, and we eventually DID get a movie that wrapped things up years later! That gives me hope for OFMD, that maybe another network will pick it up, or maybe they’ll be able to make a movie someday. But what makes me sad about cases like Sense8 is knowing that the creators still had to force the narrative around the amount of time they were given. That the corporate overlords who only care about numbers and profit dictated how much time they had to wrap up their story.

And it fucking kills me that DJ only wanted one more season. One more season to complete the vision.

I'm just so mad that queer people are constantly being jerked around and used for profit and then left high and dry. And then we're given excuses like "oh there's no budget" or "oh there's not enough viewership, that's all it is". like, sure, maybe those are contributing factors, but then I look at all the useless garbage shows that have little viewership and high budgets that keep going forever and then I think "hmmmm, the math ain't mathing." It's fucking transparent; the corporations can spew all they want with their rainbow capitalism and talks about diversity, but the evidence is clear, and they can't convince me homophobia/racism/transphobia/etc. is not a factor in these decisions.

Anyways, back to OFMD. OFMD made me fall in love with fandom again. I drifted away from fandom for a while in my 20s, and while OFMD wasn't the first fandom that drew me back into the madness, it's certainly the largest. The sheer amount of creativity both within the show and outside of it has blown me away; I've read some of the best fics, seen some of the best art, and witnessed some of the most incredible creativity from people in this fandom.

And let's not forget the role of the show's creators and how they've interacted with us fans. They made us feel seen. And made us feel loved and valid, even when we were being weird and loud and horny. It's so fucking rare to see that. But they understood; understood that the show they made was for us, for any of us who've been marginalized or made to feel Othered or different or stuck in life or unsure of our identities. And they gave us so much love for it.

The story... man. The unique combination of quirky humour and bright visuals and dark, introspective moments, the gorgeous costumes and soft, lovely, unabashed queerness, and veteran actors and new actors all getting to shine, brilliant comedic actors getting to show off their dramatic chops and vice versa. For me, seeing Rhys Darby - an actor I've loved for a long time, but who I never thought I'd see in a leading role - getting to be the romantic lead in a queer role? And seeing acclaimed director/producer/screenwriter/actor Taika Waititi play opposite Rhys, as an indigenous Blackbeard? Fucking incredible. OFMD Edward Teach you will always be famous to me.

Anyways... despite my long ramblings here, I still don’t think I've been able to get to the root of WHY exactly this show has inched its way under my skin and stayed with me in the way it has. Maybe I'll spend years trying to understand it. But I DO know that it's in part to do with seeing both older queers AND a diverse range of queerness onscreen, in a way that I've never seen in media before. I DO know that OFMD has forced me to look inwardly, and allowed me to realize some important things about myself. About my own queerness, my own identity, things I'm still figuring out. I've cherished being able to see myself in Stede, in Ed, and each of the crew members. In Roach’s love for cooking, in Oluwande’s ability to mediate; in Jim’s quick temper, in the way Izzy builds walls to guard his heart. In Buttons’ quirkiness, in Wee John’s sass, in Frenchie’s ability to turn pain into humour; in The Swede’s silliness, in Lucius’ bluntness, in Pete’s soft heart beneath the skepticism. Lastly, OFMD has inspired me. To create, to write, to draw, to devour other peoples' works and worlds while I sit in sheer, overflowing joyousness at their talent.

so yeah. the news of this cancellation is upsetting and hurtful and disappointing. And it's making us cry, and it's making us grieve, and may make us hollow and numb at times because we've lost yet another thing we love so deeply before it was meant to go. It's so much more than "just a TV show". It means more to us than any passive mindless idiotic mind-numbing bullshit - because even though there's a time and a place and a purpose for that type of media, it's the thought-provoking work, the work that creators pour their entire hearts and souls into, that hit us deep in our own souls. The work that changes our lives. The work that has the ability to save lives, as I know OFMD has done for so many. 

please know I'm sending immense amounts of love and strength to those of you who are also hurting. we'll get through this, one way or another, and I'll keep up with the hope that we'll get more someday; but in the meantime, I'm holding you tight. ❤️️🫂

[sonamytrash]

Trouble

Warnings: smut in later chapters, fem reader, swearing, suggestive themes. Not beta read. Reader is a vet/vet medic

Thank you for over 100 followers. Honestly, I only started writing fics for my own self-indulgence. I decided to share them with my fellow degenerates, and it seems that some of you like them, so here's the first small chapter to my new one. ❤️

‐---‐-----------------------------------------------------

Levi opens the door abruptly, making you jump. You pout at him playfully. "You scared me!" He narrows his eyes at you, "It's late," he says sternly. "What do you want?" He asks. You roll your eyes and walk into his office as he closes the door behind you both. Placing a pile of reports on his desk, you reply to his question, "The shitty reports you asked for that took me all evening." You complain. "And I know you never sleep, but shouldn't you be trying to get your three hours in?" You tease.

Levi smirks at your response. "Ah, yes. I did ask for those reports. Thank you." Taking a seat at his desk and giving a quick glance at the reports before looking back at you.

"And not right now." He places the reports aside and crosses his arms. "I have things to take care of that require my attention." His eyes then shift to you, "Speaking of attention, what else do you want?" His tone softening just a bit with a playful edge.

He respects your work. You are always efficient in what you do, which is why he often lets your tone and lack of respect towards him slide. Although you're not one of his direct subordinates, he still entertains more of your playful personality than he would tolerate from anyone else.

Truthfully, hiring a veterinary medic was one of Hanges more practical ideas. Having someone at the headquarters to provide and teach appropriate health care for the horses had saved a lot of money while costing very little to hire you. The overall survival rate of horses was much improved now that the soldiers knew better basic first aid, and the horses could return to headquarters for more appropriate treatment if they survived. Many of their losses weren't necessarily due to being directly crushed or eaten by Titans, but many surviving horses would die of injuries and infections upon the journey or arriving home. Your knowledge and skill had meant more horses were surviving out on the front lines and being able to recover when they returned. The cost of constantly replacing horses was drastically reduced. So even if he hadn't been on instructions to be on his best behaviour, what you brought to the regiment had genuinely earned his respect. Not only were you an intelligent woman, but you were downright infuriating. That sassy attitude, the playful humour you brought wherever you went and yet when necessary, you were stern, professional, and eloquent. It had made you popular amongst the regiment. And Levi wasn't immune. He really couldn't resist your charms. But God did he want to fuck that smart mouth of yours quiet sometimes.

Levi is taken from his thoughts when you reply, pouting. "You made such a big fucking deal about these reports that I've spent all evening making sure they were done, I would like to have had a hot bath and maybe read a book."

Levi rolls his eyes at your playful pout. "Well, since you are already here, you might as well stay and assist me with some paperwork," he says with a soft chuckle. He then proceeds to tidy his desk, placing the reports you brought in the correct pile and placing a smaller pile opposite him for you to work on.

"It shouldn't take too long and then you can go and have your well-deserved hot bath, princess." he adds with a smirk.

You bring your hand to your hips. "Either you're trying to torture me or just want an excuse to spend more time with me." You tease, taking a seat across from him. This kind of banter was the norm between the both of you, but he was much more receptive when it was behind closed doors.

A small smirk forms on Levi's lips, "You caught me," he replies sarcastically before he continues reading and signing paperwork.

You too glance over some of the papers and organise them into appropriate piles for him, "Busy day?" You ask, trying to spark some conversation.

"Just the usual," Levi says, his voice monotone as he signs the paperwork. "Paperwork, training, and keeping the brats in check." He pauses for a moment before looking back up at you. "Speaking of training, we'll have to arrange for another session soon." You grimace at his words. He insisted on the occasional sparring session to keep your self-defence up to scratch. "I'm not a fighter, levi. You beat the shit out of me every time, and even then, I know you're going soft on me." You groan playfully, "Literally everyone comes to watch me get beaten up." While you felt like he was trying to make your life difficult with these training sessions, it actually came from a place of care. He wanted you to be able to defend yourself.

Levi leans back in his seat, "You know I only do it to make you stronger," he says with a small grin. "And as for the spectators, what can I do? You're quite popular among the ranks." He then pauses for a moment before adding, "But I can always arrange for a more private session if that's what you prefer." His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. A flirtatious exchange wasn't uncommon for the two of you, but how you fucking wished he would make good on the things he said.

You were instantly drawn to his suggestion and change in demeanour. "Oh yeah? And do you often give people private training sessions?" You say raising an eyebrow.

Levi chuckles softly, "You know I don't," he replies, his expression softening just a bit. "But for you, I can make an exception." He then shifts his gaze to the paperwork in front of him, pushing aside the distracting thoughts. "Anyway, you're distracting me," he says, beginning to sift through the papers again. But it's too late, your interest has been piqued, "Maybe that's not such a bad idea. What would we be working on during those sessions?" You ask, wanting to keep pressing the new suggestion.

Levi gives you a small, subtle smirk. "Hmm, we could work on whatever you feel you need improvement on," he says. "Maybe your form or your speed," he suggests. Almost throwing you into thinking you had misinterpreted his earlier tone. Before he follows up with a hint of mischief, "But whatever we work on, you can be sure that I'll push you to your limits."

You smirk in response, "Who knows, captain, maybe I'll push you to yours."

Levi smirks at your flirtatious comment and arches an eyebrow in amusement, "Is that so?" he replies in a teasing tone, his smirk widening. "I highly doubt that." He then leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "But I won't deny that I would enjoy the challenge." You mimic his movements, leaning forward in response, and meeting his gaze, "Oh I'm sure you would."

Levi's eyes linger on yours for a moment, studying your playful expression. "You're trouble," he says in a low voice before leaning back in his seat. "But I have to admit, I rather enjoy it." He then picks up a pen and begins scribbling on the papers in front of him, his mind wandering as he tries to suppress the arousal between his legs, relieved there's a desk inbetween the two of you.

"So I've been told," you reply playfully, finishing up the last of the papers he gave you to organise, giving you both a few moments of silence before you speak up again. "Do you think your private training session with a troublesome girl like me would whip me into shape?" You ask him seductively, being determined to see how far you can push him, having taken note of the tensing of his shoulders and how he occasionally bites his lip.

Levi finishes his scribbling, taking a deep breath as he places the pen he's gripping down before looking up at you. "Not a chance," he replies, his tone firm but playful. "But perhaps it would tire you out enough to be a good girl for at least a little while," he adds with a smirk of his own.

[shadowqueenjude]

Hi!! read some of the beaf that you had with some anons and honestly, i can kinda agree and kinda not agree.

(Let me first establish that I don't write lucien but if someone wants to diss him i will throw hands)

Okay, Azriel: Azriel's character and morals on a whole are questionable and not that great and a lot of shit that he's done especially with Elain is not...ugh just not it. Which is honestly why 70% of fanfiction I write is just ignoring canon or using his shitty character to create angst. He's hot, and the main reason I like him is because he's willing to risk his life for people he cares about. Does that excuse him from being biased and favouritism towards his brothers and Feyre? no. That's where delulu comes in and I erase that part of his character from my mind. So Azriel is the kind of character where since he does not exist I choose the parts of him I want to acknowledge and which parts I don't want to. Also, yeah, Elain should not be with him that dynamic is just...no.

Rhysand: I understand anti-rhysand just as much as I understand pro-rhysand. Both don't make sense to me, tbh i kinda ignored his existence his death did not affect me whatsoever and neither did his revival.

Cassian: He's...interesting. See I like the parts of his character where he's a goofy and funny dude but where it starts going downhill is he does his job with no questions asked and the way he treated Nesta is an ick. I'd like to be his bestfriend when it comes to his blatant sense of humour (not including when he pushed Nesta cause that's just plain messed up) but I would not want to be his lover. Not for a billion years.

In conclusion, get rid of Rhysand, teach Azriel and Cassian to have a backbone (or at least more of one), teach them how to have a guilty conscience, and also we need an Eris POV because I need to start justifying why I love Eris so much T^T My fics are honestly always reader leaves Azriel for Eris.

It's the Fae world. Everyone is "hot" so Azriel being "good looking" doesn't mean shit to me. If you mean his personality being hot? He has no personality aside from being delusional and crazy. Cassian I was cool with mostly until ACOSF. UGH I hate that SJM did that to Cassian because she wanted Nesta to wind up part of the Inner Circle. Rhysand? He's a dick in every sense of the word. The only way Cassian and Azriel could redeem themselves to me is if they destroyed Rhysand and his shoddy system, treat the Archerons right, and bow down to the king Lucien. For fuck's sake it's impossible to find a character who hasn't done Lucien dirty. Except maybe Tarquin or whatever. As for daddy Eris, this man could make Azzy PAY for how he treated Lulu. Lucien is too nice to do it himself. But Eris has no such qualms. Lucien and Eris together have too much power, that's why SJM hasn't had them made up yet 🔥🔥🔥 Anyway, the bat boys should just drop dread and Lucien should become High King. Eris can be his right hand man. Elain can be his High Queen and Nesta can be Eris's wife. Tamlin gets on his knees for Lucien who forgives him and adopts him as his pet dog. Feyre can go to therapy sessions with Thesan.

[integrity-souls]

tell me YOUR undertale thoughts fiore. not even particularly picky about what type of thoughts. maybe why you finally decided to play it and what stuck out to you

LOL hi again Raxz

Its actually not really that interesting or anything to note. I'd say it was undertale yellow that got me playing undertale original but thats not really what happened ( though it's sudden popularity is a contributor, all over on xeeter ) I was initially just buying another game from steam and saw it was just 2 cents and thought, hey, why not. I just happen to have more than that in my wallet, like making a deal with the worlds richest ant♥️ Then I played deltarune and THEN did I play yellow.

I have alot of thoughts on undertale yellow but I don't think anything I have to say someone else hasn't said yet and this is an undertale ORIGINAL ask so just know. It would be a great game by itself but not as a solid undertale game. I dont think it lives up to the writing and humor. which is the highlight of the franchise. I Replayed undertale again for a refresher/to compare.

As for other thoughts... It was just shorter than i expected it to be lmfao not a bad thing but from the impression the fanon gave i just thought itll be a little longer. i didn't expect to like flowey as much as I did. Didn't expect to have it make me laugh either because of it being an older game but it did that too anyway! smile. Having good humour in any game is always one of the ingredients to making something memorable.

Besides that.. ill be honest I think it may be a little too early for me to have any more yet, besides just noticing the game/art design choices Toby made. Like the "bad pixel art" and making things shitty on purpose was an excellent choice because it means theyll be able to focus more on the writing, not because toby just liked it shitty, the shit gave it its charm anyway. Its one of the reasons why it succeeded as much as it did compared to similar indie games that had the opposite. Which usually suffered from being super impressive art and design wise, but the writing being so god awful it's like taking a gun and shooting at what would've been a decent game. Not to say undertale is free of some weak points though, there is definitely some but to me its just that special case where the game itself is just so unique and so "never done before" that i skim pass or never notice it. Most of the bad writing i may need to actually go through the wiki or something to find anyway. Which I don't do as much unless its for like, my version of the souls. Sad! I can easily excuse bad art but if the writing doesn't make up for it its a deal breaker. anyways, thats all, of course as time passes my mind will find somthing to think about soon enough. have two pngs, made in my own kitchen

[dabisqueen]

Okay

Listen

I have things to say

First of all, I'm OBSESSED with your writing.

Secondly, I came up with an interesting idea that I would LOVE to see your take on, if you're interested. I am NOT a writer, my ADD won't allow it, but I think your writing would really bring this idea to life...

Touya Catfishing you...

Now HEAR ME OUT

Imagine a modern au Touya catfishing you. Not for any nefarious reason, but because he's self conscious about his scars. We know canonically that he thinks he's ugly af.

He's never had a girlfriend. sure he's had the occasional drunken hook up, but they never stay once they see him in the harsh light of day. None of them can see past his scars. He's tried online dating, only for it to result in the same rejection. Although he loathes to admit it, he's a romantic at heart; he just wants someone to love him. Maybe he met you at your job at a coffee shop, or a book store, either way he's met you and he wants nothing more than to get to know you. so he does something stupid. He knows it's a shitty thing to do, but he did it anyway. he makes a fake Instagram account, opting to use his nickname from high school; Dabi.

but instead of using some random person's pictures, he makes the decision to use his much more attractive (though he'd never admit it) little brother's image. It's the perfect plan, shouto doesn't have an Instagram, opting to stay mostly offline since he had no interest in it and he's got access to all the pictures he could ever need of him to send to you. He'll use his little brother's pictures to reel you in, and when you fall in love with his personality he'll reveal his true self to you. You'll be so in love with him that you won't care about the scars and the lies.... Right?

He begins a conversation with you on insta, he's funny, charming. A real smooth talker. His dry sense of humour compliments your own perfectly.

You guys chat online, about your lives, about your similar interests, and you quickly start to catch feelings for him. After about 2 weeks of strictly dming, you give him your number and you start talking on the phone. And OH, his voice does things to you. He's a sweet talker for sure, but it's more than that. he's everything you want in a partner, and you desperately want to meet face to face. You try to facetime him, only to be met with a blank screen. 'Dabi' tells you his webcam is broken and he hasn't gotten around to getting a new one. You shrug it off, continuing the one sided facetime. Things eventually heat up after a few more weeks, you do things on camera for him that you NEVER thought you would do, but you're falling so hard that you'd do it for him.

The more time that passes, the more suspicious you get. He never got a new webcam, he's never met you in person, siting every excuse in the book as to why he can't meet up with you; He got called into work last minute, he's out of town, he's sick, there was a family emergency. You bought the excuses at first, maybe he just had really bad luck? But the red flags are getting bigger by the day.

Touya knows he should tell you, the longer he waits, the worse it will be when you do find out. He hates disappointing you with another excuse as to why you can't meet, he feels sick to his stomach every time you tell him you love him. He loves you so much it feels like he can't breathe. He had to tell you, he knows..

But everytime he tries, he feels his throat closing and he can't will himself to do it. He's used to rejection; he's been rejected by every love interest he's ever had. Hell, his own father rejected him and he'd been able to move on. But he doesn't think he could take it from you. Not you.

So he tells himself that he'll lie to you for just a little longer. Next time, next time he'll definitely do it.

He never does.

Until one day, you're at work and are surprised by a very familiar bi colored head of hair coming into the shop. It's Dabi, you'd know his unique appearance anywhere. You're elated, he's FINALLY come to meet you, you weren't being scammed, he is real. You call his name excitedly, only for him and his companion, his brother Natsuo, to look at you like you're crazy.

You try again, looking directly at him, but he continues to look confused.

His name is not Dabi. He tells you as much

His name is shouto, and he doesn't even have Instagram. He's nice enough, he feels bad for you, your heartbreak so apparent on your face. The conversation is awkward, and he and Natsuo leave without making a purchase.

You're completely humiliated. He tricked you. Dabi, or whatever his name is, had been catfishing you this whole time.

You take your break to call him, as soon as he answers you let him have it. You don't let him get a word in edgewise. Why would he do this? Was he trying to earn your trust so you'd send him money, or did he derive some sick pleasure from making you fall for him? And oh God, the things you did on camera just for him... Did he screen record them? Was he going to blackmail you with them? Was he going to sell them? No matter how many times he tries to tell you he would never do that, that he loves you, he can't. you keep cutting him off with worse and worse accusations.

You tell him you hate him. To lose your number. You block him on EVERYTHING

It's been weeks. You're heartbroken, he's heartbroken and you don't know if you'll ever recover.

Touya NEEDS to talk to you, to clear things up, to explain himself. If he can just talk to you you'll understand. But try as he might, he can't reach you. As a last ditch effort he does the one thing he'd been avoiding; he goes to meet you in person at your job.

The shop is quiet, your boss decides to close early, sending you home. As you make your way out of the store, keeping your head down, you knock into someone.

You mumble an apology and continue on your way...

Until he speaks up

"... Hey Doll..."

That's all you need to hear to know EXACTLY who he is.

You try to storm past him, all you want is to go home and cry into a strong drink, but he follows you begging, BEGGING for you to hear him out.

You stop, waiting with your back to him to hear what he could possibly say to justify his actions.

So he tells you everything. About his low self image, his disfigurement, the rejection, the hurt. He also tells you how much he loves you, everything he loves about you . He's frustrated, with himself for fucking everything up, with you for making him so nervous. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever be this open with anyone, but he's desperate.

You're still mad, it's not an excuse to do what he did, but you can empathize. And when you do finally look at him, so vulnerable and open, your heart stops.

He's scarred, and pierced and tattooed, but he's so so beautiful.

You take him home, you show him in the most NSFW way possible just how gorgeous you think he is, how his scars don't deter you, how deeply you love him.

You still give him shit after for lying to you, but you'll give him a chance to make it up to you.

And OH BOY does he

WOOOAAAHHHHHHH.... Sp, I wanted to reblog one of my fics this weekend but this is actually way much better!

Thank you so much for sharing, this had me really captivated! I love it when you all share your ideas with me. 💙💙💙💙💙

Now, if you don't mind, share how Dabi DOES make it up to us hehe...

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 169 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: cutting the Kolkwitzia amabilis in my garden.

JON: "Some fears don’t need to be intensified. Only manifested." Hm, insufficient or blatantly negligent fire escapes are so common in apartment buildings… Often seen escape routes get affected negatively by tenants, leaving shoes and all kinds of obstacles in the hallway. Of course this in turn can be a consequence of too many people crammed into one flat because otherwise they can’t afford living there. What I absolutely hate, is when they do that in the hospital I work at. There is no excuse. Leaving wheelchairs or even beds in the hallway even though we have fire prevention and fire action training every year and every year it’s said, that this is not allowed.

Oh this episode shows a dark side of Jon. He didn’t tell Martin what was the deal with the fire, probably hoping he wouldn’t ask (since he’s getting a bit cagy there) because he wants to revenge himself on Jude.

This conversation really shows Alex‘s VA talent again. He‘s so good at portraying fear, panic, you can hear he’s on the verge of tears.

MARTIN:(overlapping) "I know! I know, okay, I just – (bracing exhale) Look, I j,just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever." JON: "Is that – a joke?" They really gotta work on their understanding of humour. Neither one knows when the other is making a joke or not.

MARTIN: (a bit faster, a bit shaky) "No, no, okay? I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!" Hm, would love to hear what Jon would have thought about this. Like, thanks I know what it’s like to get properly burned... His hand is probably a hot mess, if you excuse the pun xD 

JON: "Alright. If you really don’t want to do this, w-we can go another way." MARTIN: (somewhat smaller) "Really?" JON: "Really. My revenge… (long sigh) Well, let’s just say you’re more important." After lots and lots of talking how much Martin hates this and is afraid Jon caves in. That is good to see. If it weren’t for what’s following…

JON: "Maybe? It’s… (inhale) Like I said, I can’t see the future. It wouldn’t free them, if that’s what you’re asking. ‘Free’ doesn’t really exist in this place." MARTIN: "Apart from us." One of those instances where Martin gets acutely aware of their privilege. Also, not sure what Jon's deal is here. That hesitant "maybe?". Does he legitimately not know or does he want to stay bit vague so Martin would be on board with going in. (Couldn't Jon just know how the merry-go-round is doing since he has destroyed the Not!Them?) I mean he's at least honest about the fact that's it not freeing the people trapped in here.

JON: "I – Oh, right: I want revenge on Jude Perry. I want to… smite her. Make her feel what – (sigh) What all her victims felt. But I’m not willing to force you to suffer for it." MARTIN: "Okay. So it’s – (brief pause) I have to choose, do I?" JON: "Or we could sit here." MARTIN: "…No. No, I’m not going to choose; I don’t, I don’t think that’s a fair decision to put on me. It’s your revenge; your choice, not mine." It’s good that Jon hears Martin’s feelings on this and actually tries to respect them. But yeah, putting that decision on Martin is complicated. It’s once again a shitty situation in which nobody wins (except that I think Jon also didn’t win. At least not in the way he wanted. But at least he’s one step closer to realizing that this is doing nothing).

[SILENCE.] JON: "Fine. We go in." I like the long pause. Jon‘s inner fight about what to do is almost audible. He probably thought if Martin really, reaaaally doesn’t want this he would have said so. As he said, he's not forcing Martin to suffer for it. And Martin bounced it back to Jon. Still, he’s putting his desire for revenge before Martin…

"Home. Such a simple word. Home – not house, not dwelling, not residence or address, not domicile or flat or lodging or abode or apartment or property or accommodation. Home." How many synonyms xD

"And home is where that heart can be hurt most severely, because within that place of safety, the warm and welcoming embrace of the cramped and well-trod floors whose layout has ingrained itself into your soul, there you are most vulnerable." A lot of people are not aware how much their home means safety. Even when things happen which limits people in the capacity of feeling at peace at their home (noise, aggressive neighbours etc.) Still, a lot of people underestimate what it can do with you when your home gets violated in one of those most horrible ways. Break-ins, catastrophes...

Usually I have problems following statements which ramble a lot about general premises, but here I find it super interesting. How that first part is just generally putting it all into words. What a home means, what's it to you, which bad things can happen to it, how you become aware of said bad things etc.

"Sabina senses it, feels it drawing near." Okay, people who also had statement people with your name, how did it make you feel? Because it's such a jump scare every single time for me. It's also, I'm not used to hearing my name in media and when there actually is a character (Star Wars, Miraculous), it's always anglicized version with the silent E at the end. But the way Jonny pronounces the A at Sabina, it sounds so much like the German pronunciation of my name. I of course have no reference, but I also feel it's worse because it's one of the S5 statements and they are a lot closer to rl than some supernatural shit. I don't know, any other experiences with this?

MARTIN: (overlapping, coming into focus) "Jon, you idiot! Please go back!" Why "you idiot"? Also is it really "please go back" or is it "please come back"? The official transcripts doesn't have this line at all, it's just Martin yelling "Jon!" again and again. "Pls come back" would make more sense because he wants him to snap out of his Eyepocalypse Guidesona. Maybe that "idiot" because I'd guess Jon lost all sense of his surroundings and marched ever deeper into the inferno.

I know there’s the debate about Martin slapping Jon awake. He already did it in MAG 160 and it will happen one more time I think? Complicated matter, it’s such a trope to slap someone awake, but it being a trope doesn’t make it okay. There is also the matter that this is an audio medium, how would you hear, say, shaking someone to snap them out of it? The olfactory sense is really sufficient, I think? But very rarely that people have something for that to use. Water would be audible, but there wasn’t really any at their disposal. Perhaps in MAG 160..? But yeah, a slap is audible in a way, that people know what’s going on.

JUDE: "Fancy seeing you both here. (sarcasm) To what, exactly, do I owe the pleasure – the honor – of being graced by the great and powerful Archivist, harbinger of this new world and his, mm… (deliberately obtuse) …valet?" Oh god, I hate that mocking tone of Jude xD Also funny to see how everyone addresses Martin. Of course they don't know him, they're all like "who's that, what makes him so special that he's traveling with the Archivist?"

JUDE: What’s wrong? Scared of a little flame? (delighted) Oh, you are, aren’t you?" [SHE LAUGHS.] JUDE: "How pathetic." MARTIN: (high) "Screw you!" JON: "Leave him alone." Ah yes, antagonizing Martin, not good. Still, don't know how much that actually does. Cause Simon... But also, Simon was never actively antagonizing Martin in front of Jon, he always seems rather polite and very funny.

JUDE: "Oh, I see. I get it. You finally get a sniff of power, and the first thing you do is try to settle some old scores. (enjoying this) Play the big man; get off on good old-fashioned petty revenge." JON: (not in the mood for games) "I’d have thought that was a mindset you would appreciate." She's not wrong, and he knows it.

JUDE: "I’m… happy in this world. I belong here. And so do you." Jude has some very difficult but kinda true statements... The Archivist does belong here, the fear of others feels good to him. But with Jon it's not that easy.

MARTIN: (half screaming) "Just DIE already!" JUDE: "You’re not – better – (audibly struggling) than – me!" Also kind more of Martin's dark side. This overall stance of the revenge arc didn't really surprise me, especially not after S4. But directly shouting as someone "Just die already"... Also Jude again... Probably got a lot into Jon's head. Is he better? He surely has caused less pain on purpose than Jude did. I refuse to contribute the Eyepocalypse to Jon, he didn't know, he was tricked into this like all the others. I don't fault him for not wanting to die and also not for not immediately wanting to gouge his eyes out especially when he knew Martin wouldn't follow him and he therefore would have lost the last bit of influence/protection/support/whatever he could offer Martin. The thing about his statement victims is complicated as it seems that he does kind of need them to survive. Old statements wouldn't have done it forever. We saw in MAG 155 that the Fears want maximum pain out of all this... Love it, the entire moral dilemma! It's super interesting!

JON: "She’s gone." MARTIN: "The fires are still here. Doesn’t look like much has changed." JON: "No. I suppose not." I would love to know if there was a thought behind this, if it was taken into account if Jon knew it wouldn't do anything, or if it's open, like it didn't matter for the character growth/narrative here.

@a-mag-a-day

[unkownwritersblog]

an apology

can’t help but sit up at night and think about everyone who I have ever loved, and everyone who has ever loved me, and about the people who have loved me so hard but I couldn’t return the feeling. The one who comes to mind quite often is Nathan, Nathan was 21 years old, I met him in high school when I was younger, I think I was in S1 and 2 when I knew him, now he had a girlfriend then, plus he was like 4 years older than me, but I had always had a crush on him, for like the longest time ever. I moved schools, I moved about a lot, but somehow years later, we reconnected.

I still thought he was beautiful and the everlasting feelings I had for him came back. We spoke for a while over the phone and eventually we decided to meet, I remember our first meeting was in a quite quaint apartment that belonged to a friend who said we could use it for the night, me and Nathan clicked instantly, we laughed about the same things, enjoyed the same memes and shared a sense of humour, he genuinely was perfect. Nathan would often travel from his home town that was 4 hours on a bus just to see me, he would do that every chance he got. I never truly appreciated the lengths he would go to just to see me, I wish I did.

Nathan and I went camping once on the beach, we had a few drinks and just enjoyed our time together, even though we had to sleep on the rock hard ground and it was pretty cold outside, but that didn’t matter as I really enjoyed being with him. I remember it got to around 5am in the morning, we had no water, and both dying of thirst, so I say to Nathan “I’m going to go and try and see if our camping neighbours have anything” I peeked out the tent and we were in complete darkness apart from the stars above us, shining somewhat of a light, I creeped out and found a tp, this camper had left mineral water right outside his tent, I thought I was the luckiest person ever, I grabbed a bottle and ran, do I feel bad, yes, but this guy had like 8 large bottles, im sure he could have spared one.

Fast forward to a few months later, Nathan and I were now boyfriend and girlfriend, we spent every moment we had together, but I guess my age caught up to me, I began to be reckless. I would go out partying and drinking, without any regard to how it made Nathan feel, I stopped replying to texts, calls and I made him worry, on numerous occasions Nathan would have to come get me from whatever shitty bar I had squandered into. I didn’t appreciate it, but looking back now, not many people would do that.

Eventually I started losing feelings for him, I still can’t remember why, I think it might have been due to me leaving home and going to university, where I would have my own place and I guess I may have wanted the “full university” experience. We broke up, I was upset, but nowhere near how upset he was, I was a coward and had broken up with him over text, he didn’t deserve that. I busied myself, went to uni, partied, drank, the whole lot, I remember one evening I invited him up to my party, he was so excited and happy and he was just beaming that we could see each other, I didn’t care for it. He arrived and I disregarded him the whole party, he kept trying to talk to me and spend time with me but I just wouldn’t have it, I guess I was too busy trying to impress my “new friends”.

After that, we didn’t really talk after that, I think my excuse for breaking up with him was that I wasn’t ready for a relationship, lol I know, what a basic and overused excuse. Nearly 2 years have passed and I lie awake at night thinking how cruel and how awful I was, I know I was young, this is my first time on earth and im just trying to survive, but is that really an excuse to treat someone who was so overhead in heels in love with me, who would of done anything, who would have stopped the world for me if he could, is that really a justified response for how I treated him? I don’t believe it is.

I lie awake and think about all the things he done for me, how well he treated me, how unforgiving I was to him and how I wish I could of been and done better, Nathan, I am so sorry for everything, you deserve the world and more, I am sorry I couldn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved, I am so sorry for being so heartless, your love for me could have filled an ocean plus 15 more, I hope you are doing well now, I hope you have found someone who loves you just as much or more than you love them, you are perfect and I am so sorry.

-loversguilt

[frostyreturns]

Frosty Ruins "Hailey's On It (2023)"

The evidence for the idea that much of todays entertainment is being written by ai is starting to pile up. There's so many of these shitty generic soulless cartoons now. The older I get the more I realize the old advice not to judge based on appearance was total bullshit. I can look at this show within 5 seconds and know it's going to be bad because it looks cancerously poorly drawn. It looks cheap and generic, you know when you are scrolling through a streaming service and you scroll past all these shitty looking cartoons that all look exactly the same and look so unbelievably unappealing that you wonder if there's even a single person on the planet who saw it and decided to click on it…it's one of those. It's like someone went to one of those ai art things and said give me a terrible looking cheap netflix childrens cartoon with ethnically ambiguously brown characters and it shat out ten thousand examples and they turned every single one into a show.

Then they gave the writing ai the prompt, write me a generic sanitized for all audiences childrens cartoon but fill it with progressive politics and sexualization. Then they write a brief one dimensional description of each character input the premise of the show and bam writing is done. I'm making a joke about how bad it is but it's so bad in the exact way I'm describing that what I'm saying is also completely plausible. I feel like i've reviewed this show before at least 3 times it's just so generic and shitty in all the same ways as every other cartoon being made in the last couple years.

The jokes are so flat they almost don't even exist. The main character will be riding a bike and run into a bunch of stuff and go "oh you were telling me to avoid that stuff." Beyond that there are no jokes there's just out of place sarcasm. It's like they copied the form of humour but left out the joke...like there's a setup and a punchline but they don't go together or it will be punchline with no setup or context. Like Michael scott shouting that's what she said but without anyone saying anything that could be heard as being sexual.

The premise of the show is stupid it's that this girl makes a list of stuff she wants to do and by doing her list she saves the world, which she knows because a time traveller from the future where Serena Williams is president came back to tell her. Because we all know if brown girls just did what they wanted without anyone stopping them they would be able to do whatever they want and would save the world from climate change. At least when Rick from Rick and Morty can do almost anything it makes a little sense because he's spent his entire life inventing and learning how weird sci fi shit works Hailey is just a young girl who's magically a scientist action hero, mary sue to the max.

It's like if you took all the humour out of My Name is Earl added in all of the progressive horseshit, then took all the humour and sci fi philosophy out of rick and morty took out any comedic looking animation and combined them…then wrote out all the whites, straights and men. I didn't see a single white character and i think there was only the one guy.

This is a kids show with children there's no need for there to be any sexualization at all, there's stuff about two girls kissing and her first to do list item is to kiss her friend. Two kids kissing is not a huge deal but it's a little weird in the context, they have all these other characters pressuring her to do it including a little robot who explains the mechanics of kissing like they're introducing it to kids for the first time…it's just gross and it's weird that it was written into the show it seems so unnecesary. Like make out with your friend or the world is going to end…seems like the kind of weird excuse some manipulative predator would make up to convince a kid to go along with something sexual. At one point they go through one of those tunnel of love rides while a song urges them to "kiss their friends, just do it don't be shy" and of course all the heart symbols along the ride are the pedo small heart within a larger heart symbol.

Awful, absolutely no redeeming qualities, don't let your kids watch it. Other than my ai argument I can't see how something like this keeps getting made.

[georgespaniel]

this is me speaking frankly about my thoughts on all of this because i've been really struggling over the past 2 days because of the matty shit and it hurts. i will admit i feel conflicted over this which i hate and if you feel similar or want to tell me to shut the fuck up feel free but i think talking about it and getting out my system will help. this is rambly, incoherent, kinda personal and quite long so feel free to ignore but i just want it out there.

i think i am very parasocial with matty and that makes me want to excuse him far more than i should, and i'm willing to admit that is a flaw. i want to be in denial and tell myself that this is all just a big bit and he's not really like that but how the fuck am i supposed to know that? i keep telling myself that he is better than this and he doesn't actually believe any of this but realistically i know nothing about this man other than what he shows us, and what he showed on that podcast was really shitty. i can't keep excusing his shitty behaviour, before i just thought of him as a loveable asshole but he's turning more and more into just a straight up asshole.

i feel like people on both sides of this debate are being way too loud because it's a lot more nuanced than either 'he has committed every -ism under the sun and is a terrible bigot' or 'he's done nothing wrong lol you're just a fake fan that's his humour' and i hate that no one can just have a conversation about this. i've seen and spoken to a few people on anon about it and it's been much nicer so i appreciate this tumblr community for being so nice even though this blog has only existed for like a week lmao.

i have loved matty since 2015 and my love was really reignited back in November and it's made these past few months so good for me, i saw them live and made 15 year old me's dream come true and i think i was kinda waiting for it to all go to shit so i feel like i shouldn't be surprised but i still am.

it hurts that a man who has been so vocal about supporting women and condemning bigotry and toxic masculinity can't stop himself from participating in such unnecessary low blow humour for some cool points. like i don't really give a shit if it's satire and all a big bit, the words are still harmful and they still fucking hurt.

like it's so frustrating because in my head i want to believe he is better than this!!! he has been so vocal in the past and that goddamn brit award speech he made just doesn't seem like the same person who was in that interview. but once again how am i supposed to know that. maybe he's an absolute prick behind closed doors.

i don't feel like what was done was egregious but he was clearly happily complicit in it and thats what makes me so uncomfortable. it's such shitty punch down humour that is completely unnecessary, like yeah its a joke or whatever but its such a shit joke that is only funny because its something they know will never happen to them. even if the hosts are minorities themselves it doesn't give them the right to make such shitty racist remarks and especially for privileged white boy matty to be joining in with them.

i think its poe's law that goes something like 'if your attempt at satire is indistinguishable from the person you are mocking you are no better than them'. like even if he isn't a bigot he sure is fucking sounding like one and it pisses me off. and i have seen people who definitely are bigots laughing at this shit and feeling validated by it. if people who genuinely believe that shit are laughing and agreeing with you then you need to take a step back and reevaluate what you are saying.

he has no ability to understand when to shut his mouth and understand that his opinion isn't fucking needed. oh great yet another rich privileged white man's opinions, exactly what the world fucking needs.

i feel like he could maybe redeem himself is he showed even an ounce of self reflection and realisation that he has genuinely hurt people, if he actually apologised or fucking did anything to acknowledge the shitty stuff he has done, but he never does!!!! he never does because he can get away with it because people keep letting him get away with it.

and yet despite all that a small part of me still wants to love him and its been tearing me apart. i considered myself to have very strong morals and this goes against so many of them. i'm not sure if it's the parasocial attachment or the comfort he has brought me over the years but i really don't want to lose that, but that sacrifices my own morals to do that (am i being too sensitive, am i too morally black and white, is what i am feeling valid, am i a bad person for thinking this???)

i hate the fact that every time i try to listen to their music or i see the videos that used to make me feel so happy i just feel sick. i want to feel comforted and happy like i used to but now i just think about him and feel upset, i don't want him to be that person i so desperately don't but i don't know anymore and i don't know what to do.

i hate the fact that i can't form my own opinions and i am so influenced by what other people say, i am so desperate for someone to valdiate me but two people have told me it's okay and i still feel sick. i want someone to tell me how to feel about this but when they do i can't accept it. i love him and i hate him so much and those feelings can't get on with each other. it just really really fucking sucks.

[purpleplaid17]

Jess Watches // Mon 11 Mar // Day 168 & Tues 12 Mar // Day 169 Synopses & Favourite Scenes & Poll

Severance (rw with mum) 1x09 The We We Are (s1 Finale)

The team discovers troubling revelations.

Dylan - How did he not cramp up holding those switches for so long? All those fingertraps trained him well. He deserves all the kinky waffle parties he desires.

Irving - From a military family and a whistleblower. What made him start investigating Lumon? and how does his Outie know Burt?

Helly - The jawdropping revelation that she'a an Eagan. The happy office photos were of manipulated situations but Helena seemed genuinely excited to put her faith in her family's work. She is a fascinating contradiction.

Mark - She's alive!!! The tension that built around him piecing together his Outie's life while trying to get a moment alone to talk to his sister still had me on the edge of my seat.

The rewatch has got me even more hyped for s2. Anyone have any theories about it? I'd love to hear them.

Loudermilk (with mum) 1x03 You're Only as Sick as Your Secrets

Loudermilk goes to great lengths to get Claire to open up about her deep-seated issues, with mixed results. Mugsy reaches out to his estranged daughter and finds that some relationships are harder to fix than others.

Mugsy being an absolute idiot parent. I'm glad everyone called out his shitty excuses for abandoning his 9 children (counting the twins ofc). Also, I'm free for frisbee if anyone wants a game?

Six Nations: Full Contact Ep 5 La Défense

Following a rocky start, everything depends on the next game for last years champions, France. Will they find their form or is the title gone for good?

I do not remember France beating England so emphatically. I thought I watched it last year but maybe not this one for some reason.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (rw) 3x13 The Zeppo

Xander experiences an adventure of his own when he encounters a group of reanimated corpses. Meanwhile, Buffy and her friends battle the forces of evil when the Hellmouth reopens.

I used to like Xander. He was a lovable goof. But now rewatching, it is very clear he was a JW self-insert. And I think that's the reason why his 'humour' these first 3 seasons just hasn't landed for me like it used to. So I very much enjoyed Cordelia's takedown "There was no part of that that wasn't fun."

[plantfeed]

location: marina state park. status: closed for jenny @doomcd

     it never gets any easier to meet an ex-lover and leave with a box full of things. under his bed back at his mum’s, there’s a treasure trove of old shoe boxes stuffed with fragments of people he’s loved ; strips of polaroids from nightclub photo booths, half-finished chapsticks left in his coat pockets, labels peeled from bottles of wine shared on a tube to notting hill carnival, the glittery remnants of a shoddily fashioned mix tape. he used to leave things behind — favourite kitchen knife, a roll of film, his dignity — so that he’d have an excuse to go back and collect them. they’ve tried this before, only he’d gone round to jenny's place, with the intention to be in and out with the last of his stuff in no more than five minutes. instead, he’d ended up in and out of jenny. sex always feels so much fucking better when it might be the last time. he’s chosen a park this time around, because it feels like they’re unlikely to fuck in broad daylight with like, kids and ducks and old people present and shit. but then again, it’s him and jenny, and given their track record he probably shouldn’t rule it out. she finds him on the bridge, skimming stones across the pond with one hand, lost mary vape in the other, his body betraying him with a smile when he looks at her. he slips back into old habits despite himself. eyes snap back to the water to watch his stone skim, only to realise that in his distracted state it's the vape that's left his hand and not the stone. “ oh, for fuck sake. ” jude watches as the little bottle of oil kisses the surface of the water once, twice, then sinks below the current, before turning his attention back to jenny. “ hi trouble. ” at once he’s both too casual for the intensity of what they’d shared and too familiar for what they’ve become. it feels like he exists in a fugue state where he no longer remembers how he’s meant to behave, the simultaneous desire to draw her closer and lengthen the distance between them resulting in him standing upright and wooden like a shitty 90s video game NPC, unsure of what to do with his arms. “ you got my warhammer figurines in there ? ” despite the lack of humour in his delivery, it’s obviously intended as a joke. possibly the only person, living, dead, or fictional that jude would ever stomach himself to have a figurine of is marcus rashford. or at a push taylor swift. 

[little-lee-froggie]

OK BUT LIKE I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT HOW I WANT SHINSOU’S MASK TO HELP WITH DYSPHORIA AND I JUST THOUGHT OF A LITTLE HEADCANNON, SO HEREEE:

Ok, so let’s say Shinsou has a trans friend or sibling or something, and he just kinda lets them use his mask when he doesn’t need it to ease their dysphoria, like, common!!! My wish to be his younger sibling continues…

HOLY SHIT- it’s a transmasc- (please excuse my shitty humour)

[cranky-kyrati]

Hey. I'm not sure if you're still doing requests but if you are could I get a Pagan Min foc with an autistic reader? If you have questions feel free to pm me.

Dude I am SO SORRY, I dropped the ball on this one - I've had the first part of this written for a while and wanted to write more before i published it, but i figure something is better than nothing at this point. There's a continuation in my head, fingers crossed I'll be able to put it into writing soon!

Anyway here goes, Pagan rescuing Reader from bullies ^^;

Pagan Min x GN Autistic Reader CN: bullying

“Hey! Weirdo! What you listening to, weirdo?”

You keep your head down. You always do, it’s safer that way. The less you look at people, the less they tend to notice you, and everyone’s happier that way. But it doesn’t work this time. The soldiers have closed in on you, trapping you in a corner of the palace courtyard you were trying to cross.

“The way you’re always humming along it’s gotta be some good shit right?” they laugh as they snatch at your headphones.

Your attempts to evade them are fruitless. Your shitty old headphones are ripped off your head, your shitty old phone torn from your hand, and now you’re staring at the soldiers as they pass the headphones around.

“The fuck is this, this is just noise!”

They’re roaring with laughter, but there’s an edge to it; like fear. Like anger. Men like that don’t like things they don’t understand. Their eyes stab at you and you have to look down again.

“Hello? Excuse me?”

That voice you know well, even though it has never spoken to you directly. Everyone knows the king’s voice. Right now, it sounds faintly amused, as its owner strolls over to join the gaggle of guards surrounding you. You swallow and take a step back, your heel nudging into the white-washed wall behind you. You lean into it, press your palms against it, focusing on your breathing.

“What’s the big to-do, hm?” Pagan Min asks, just as his shoes come into your field of view. Red crocodile leather, polished to a high sheen.

The soldiers have all straightened to salute him. Now they shift slightly, probably exchanging glances.

“Uh. Sir. Uh. Just having a joke with weirdo, here,” one of them ventures. “All in good fun. We’re buddies. Aren’t we, kid?”

You should probably nod, but you can’t quite seem to move.

“Oh. Huh,” Pagan says.

It sounds like a verbal shrug. Somehow, you manage to tear your eyes off the ground long enough to dart a quick glance at his face. He’s watching you, and when he catches you looking at him, his mouth quirks the tiniest of smiles. And if you didn’t know better … you could swear he winks at you.

“Well!” he continues, “Last I checked, all my staff have names, and I’m pretty sure your friend here isn’t called ‘Weirdo’. I’m also pretty sure you are supposed to be in the barracks for a briefing that started, oh—” he checks his watch, “—five minutes ago. Now, far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, but you know how temperamental my commander-in-chief tends to get…”

There is a moment of stillness, and then one of the soldiers hisses a curse, and they all salute the king again and scramble off towards the barracks. The one who had been holding your phone drops it. You hear yourself cry out softly and you dive for it as it hits the flagstones. You collect your headphones, hands shaking slightly. They don’t seem to have broken any worse than they already were, so that’s something. The phone screen is cracked quite badly, but perhaps it still works—

The red shoes are still there. Why hasn’t he gone yet?

You tilt your head back before you think better of it. The king is watching the army men disappear around a corner, hands in the pockets of immaculate black trousers. “Soldiers always seem to have the absolute worst sense of humour,” he muses. “I wonder why that is.” Then he glances at you, and his lips split in a grin. “But I’m sure they’ll appreciate my little joke at their expense. Hm! That briefing takes place over in the gulag.”

And then he winks again, and saunters off.

[roamwithahungryheart]

For your birthday celebration week, m'love!

Tell me about your worst date!

And who do you ship me with?

As for who I ship you with, it's a tough choice between Brett and Henry, but ultimately I'm going to say Brett. I can just imagine you both bouncing off one another with the sassy humour. And that he's a nice, Jewish boy your mother would kvell over, too :D

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!!!

OOF, my worst date?? Two came to mind, and they were both with the same guy - it would either have to be the time my ex casually invited a colleague to come and get coffee with us in the middle of the date so I had to sit there awkwardly and make up an excuse to leave early OR the time he (accidentally I guess?) body-shamed me and I ended up crying in the restaurant bathroom.

Okay now that I'm reading that back he was actually very shitty and I'm glad it's over 😂

Hmmm who do I ship you with? It's a tie between Tyler Rake and Angel Reyes (insert joke about being tied up by Tyler and Angel here) - I think I may have to go with Tyler Rake because I could see you being a kickass assassin couple!

YES GIRL I would invite myself onto Films To Be Buried with just to be sassy and derail the whole thing for fun because I'm evil, but in, like, a cool and sexy way 😎💅 x