#fucking beavers you guys

[marsafter-dark]

Broke: the world is ending and we can’t do anything

Woke: the world is worth saving and we shouldn’t give up on it

Bespoke: the world is worth saving and writers can help by imagining a positive future and encouraging the society to hope again

[rookflower]

i will say im a windclan moor >>> windclan prairie truther in my heart but i also think looking at "warrior cats is set in the new forest/england/the uk" and going "no it's not. it's actually set wherever i live" is awesome so whatever. whatever you think is right and whatever i think is right. 10 billion creative and inspired by personal experience warrior cats settings forever

[edraculation]

finally got around to watching the last few episodes of the first season of TDI that i originally lost interest in after Harold got voted out and damn did i forget just how fucking excited i get about Harold. I don't know what's wrong with me but i just nearly dislocated my arm after wrecking my shit with a shitty backflip that i did the second he came on screen in the finale. i have never done a backflip before in my life. harold fuels me

[optimisticaudience]

Hundreds of Beavers is such a mood

[greatunironic]

eddie wakes up in a strange room. this was not particularly unusual for him, historically: he’d spent most of his twenties waking up in new and interesting places (including a handful of jail cells). but after eddie, the label, and the los angeles superior court system decided it would be best if he stopped drinking and doing blow, it stopped being such a regular occurrence.

so it’s almost alarming to him, now, to be blinking up at an unfamiliar cement ceiling with the raging bitch of all headaches and generally feeling like he got hit by a truck, got whiplash in a crash with the way his neck aches. he’d think he was hungover like all those times before except for how sharp the pain is, bright.

he worries, briefly, he’s relapsed, or someone’s slipped him something. but he remembers what him and the boys had been up to, before this, and he thinks it’d’ve been a strange night indeed if someone roofied a c-list (b-list if he’s feeling charitable) musician at a fucking frozen four game.

because yeah, eddie remembers: they’d been third row, watching the wisconsin ladies clean up and cheering for jeff’s kid sister like she was about to get olympic gold. (she probably would, someday. her and that mayfield girl who played defense were looking down the barrel at a 2026 run apparently.

eddie’s been to a handful of games over the years, when touring and recording allows them to go. he’s resolutely never been a sports guy but he’ll admit, when pressed, that live hockey is pretty dope. to say nothing, of course, of how jeff would probably murder them all in their sleep if they didn’t rep the red and white for lottie.

(and also — and this is between eddie and his god alright — but lottie’s coach? standing back there in his suit, hair styled and dialed, snapping his gum, yelling at the refs? kind of doing it for him, okay. worth the price of admission, even if the tickets weren’t free.)

when he thinks harder — which hurts too — the last thing he clearly remembers was someone from the beavers scoring, bringing their lead to 5-1, and a slapshot from the other team getting out over the boards and nearly taking out some lady’s popcorn. someone behind them in the seats said, “jesus they’re getting desperate, eh?”

then shit goes dark on him, not even a fade to black, but a full on smash cut, roll credits black, and the post-credits scene is where ever the fuck eddie is at the moment. it smells like human and cold and icy hot, so obviously, he thinks, he died and went to hell like all the church ladies said he would back in hawkins, or probably just a locker room. what the fuck?

he blinks at the ceiling, at an interesting water stain on the cement texturing. he’s in the middle of wondering where the rest of his band has gone if he’s here alone, fucking abandoners, when a sweaty redhead with the bitchiest expression he’s maybe ever seen enters his field of vision.

“you’re alive,” she says.

eddie blinks again. “why do you sound so disappointed?”

“yo coach!” she shouts, already on the move away from him. “he’s alive!”

he tries to sit up, but that makes the pain in his head worse, and also draws attention to the fact that his back also hurts. he squeezes his eyes shut and makes a truly embarrassing noise of pain — if pressed, he’d call it a whimper — and a pair of big hands land on his shoulders.

“out, out ladies i got this! hey!, hey, man, don’t move just yet,” says big hands.

“yeah, no problem, i don’t want to anymore,” eddie says. he stirs up the will to open his eyes again and very nearly slams them back shut. because of course the person staring down at him is fucking coach hottie snackycakes himself. he’s even better looking in person, too, big droopy eyes, lips as pink as his bubblegum, and shiny, jesus christ. he’s still got eddie by the shoulders, hands warm through the thin cotton of his flannel and tee — because eddie’s always been more fashion than sense, wayne always said, and it’s even worse now that the paps are on him—

“oh, fuck this is gonna be all over tiktok later, isn’t it?” he moans.

“maybe not.”

“don’t lie.”

“listen, eddie — it is eddie, right?” asks coach hottie. “i’m steve. coach harrington. faughnsie — lottie, i mean — she said you’re eddie. her brother’s guitarist? what do you remember?”

“more like he’s my singer,” he says, “but sure. and not much.”

“well, you’re gonna be okay,” says coach hottie — steve. “it really wasn’t that bad, and it was probably too fast for anyone to get it, unless they already had a camera on you. you took a puck to the head when one popped up. i’d apologize but it wasn’t one of my girls who did it, so. anyway — you weren’t out for long, which robbie says is good — she’ll get a look at you in a second — but you got your bell rung pretty good. and you’re gonna have quite the shiner, trust me.”

“speaking from experience?”

“oh, yeah. closer and faster too.” he gently raps his head with his knuckles. “too many concussions too early ended my nhl days, in fact.”

“oh. oh shit, sorry, i—“

“don’t worry about it, man, it happens,” he says. “and if it hadn’t, i wouldn’t be here.”

“at the frozen four.”

“yeah, sure, that too.”

“what?”

“what?” steve waves him off. “anyway, i’m just glad to see you up, ish, and talking. looked pretty scary, from the bench.”

“i really don’t remember,” says eddie. “but i’m sure i’ll see it on tiktok later, like i said — at least, my unconscious, bleeding form.”

“i got up there pretty fast, so i doubt it,” says steve.

eddie blinks, twice. “you—?”

“you were behind my bench, and you. well,” he says with a shrug, but he’s clearly a little embarrassed, finally putting those hands away — weapons of eddie destruction, he thinks — and shoving them into his pockets of his tight slacks. “i should be getting back out there.”

“do you? you’re murdering them pretty good, unless i black out and missed them getting four more goals,” eddie says.

the corners of steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. eddie thinks he might just pass out again. “no, we’re still gonna cinch it, i think. looks bad, though — first time coach missing the final period so’s he can hit on the cute musician who got his clock cleaned by the biscuit.”

“oh,” he says. swallows. “uh.”

steve’s crinkly, smiley eyes go wide. “unless—“

“no less!” eddie shouts and then immediately winces. at a better, less damaging to his more than slightly concussed noggin, volume, he says, “more, actually. because pretty sure i shouldn’t be left unsupervised, and i’ve clearly been abandoned by the band, so—“

“so,” says steve.

“coach, two minutes!” someone calls.

“so, i was hoping maybe i could keep hitting on the hot hockey coach back at his?”

“i’m at the ramada inn,” he says, “and i got tape to watch for the finals.”

“i live for room service,” eddie tells him seriously. “and i’m suddenly very into wisconsin sports teams.”

“coach! go time!”

“yeah?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“COACH!”

he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “i gotta — but, uh, later?”

“pick me up in twenty?”

“probably more like half an hour, with stoppage,” he says.

someone bangs on the door. “COACH!! let’s boogie!!”

with one last look, wide eyed and smiling, steve leaves. eddie watches him go. he’d heard hockey players were caked up but lord — eddie is about to convert to a new religion, or maybe found one, over the stretch of those slacks.

“damn,” he says quietly.

“gross,” a woman says. eddie startles and looks to the side, where a lanky brunette with a bob and an undercut is staring at him, unimpressed. she’s in some get up that screams athletic trainer, and there’s a white board in her hand.

“how long have you been there?” he asks.

she raises an eyebrow. “long enough, and honestly, i don’t know if that counts as a you rule for him, or a you suck for you,” she says and does not elaborate when he asks. “also don’t look at him like that. it’s steve. he’s basically my sister.”

“yeah? any tips then?” asks eddie. “i promise i’ll only use them for good. well. mostly.”

“god,” she says with an expansive eye roll. “you’re gonna be a nightmare, aren’t you?”

a cheer goes up outside the room as the teams, presumably, take the ice again. eddie, head throbbing, concussed, embarrassed, grins. “sure hope so,” he says.

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt in the May vlog ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Based on their latest vlog, sorry if some bits seem muddled up. I'm trying to remember everything, I probably won't add everything as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had gone back with the guys to Boston. Getting a chance to catch up with your dad, their parents, Justin and Nate. The guys had planned to do a bit of vlogging throughout the time and your first stop was the aquarium. You were also happy Madison had joined getting a chance to hang around another girl after becoming good friends with her.

"Dude look at the size of that octopus!" You exclaimed, as you got closer to the tank.

"Eww." Chris mumbled.

"Don't say eww." Madison said, as if to tell him off, but Chris only laughed.

"If they said I could put my hand in there right now and she'd wrap around it, I would." She continued.

"That would be kinda cool." You mentioned.

"I don't like the fact it's called their suckers." Chris responded.

You laughed and continued walking around, checking out everything. You bought a matching penguin to Nick's from the gift shop as the others, minus Chris, got their turtle hats.

"I'm so happy there are gay penguins." Nick said, making you giggle.

~~~~

A couple days later you took a seat at the kitchen island, listening to Matt talk about his nightmares.

"You know what's scary?" You called, as Matt finished talking.

"What?" Nick called.

"I had a similar nightmare too." You answered.

"Really!" Chris shouted.

"Yeah." You said with a nod.

"Man, Mini Matt dreaming like Matt too." Chris said with a chuckle.

You all laughed at his words, wondering how many times that would happen.

After you arrived at your next destination, walking through the woods, it seemed relaxing, until Matt started screaming penis. You laughed as Nick kept telling him off.

"Don't you start." Nick said, giving you a side eye.

"I'm not gonna scream penis." You said between giggles.

"You Mini Matt, who knows what you'll do." Nate replied with a laugh.

You laughed again as you continued your walk, Matt talking about beavers. You were just happy to be out of the house for a while.

You then all returned to Nate's place, ready for some game he and Nick came up with. You sat around the table and watched as he pulled out a toy crocodile and Nate pulled out some lemon juice, as Nick explained the game.

"Help me." You whispered to the camera, Chris laughing as he sat next to you.

You all had a turn pressing a tooth on the crocodile, squealing when it wasn't you chosen. It then slammed shut on Nick's finger, making you laugh and him scream as he took the shot of lemon juice. You carried on again until it chose Nick again.

"Fuck! It's rigged." He shouted as he took another shot.

You and Nate were the lucky ones as it never landed on either of you, making you happy.

"Me and Nate must be lucky!" You cheered as you cleaned up.

"Next time, kid." Matt said, making you stick your tongue out at him.

~~~~

"What the fuck is that!"

Are the first words you heard as you come back from the bathroom, only to see the four boys crowded around the window. The movie had been paused as Chris held the camera up, vlogging whatever was on the curtain.

"What's going on?" You asked, joining the group.

"There's a fucking centipede on the curtain!" Matt exclaimed.

"Yeah fuck no I'm out!" You shouted, jumping on the sofa behind you.

You then watched as the guys tried to fight the bug, four grown men against one bug, but it was so fast. You held onto Chris and Nate as Nick and Matt killed the bug, laughing as Matt used his shoe and Nick used grandpa's cane.

"People are gonna have so much fun with this content." You said.

"To all the bug loving freaks out there, where were you!" Nick said to the camera.

"My heroes!" You teased, hugging Matt, who laughed but hugged you back.

"Well, back to the movie." Chris said.

You all laughed, keeping an eye out for anymore bugs and knew this was a trip back to remember.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I’m loving so much the new disowned verse omg, it is so good, you are a genius.

But I’m curious, how did reader and jason met?

The apartment was in a cracker box of a building with thin walls. His neighbors were a young couple that fought about money 25/8 and an elderly 'Nam Vet who liked his porno but- he could cope.

It was different than Gotham. There weren't constant gunshots. And that was weird. But. He knew better than to think his PI license wouldn't make him some money. Even out in the sticks. There was always a contentious divorce. There was always something not quite right. Cops in over their heads.

And he'd have down time. He could read. Work on his bike. Fuck. Maybe even actually go see a movie... Sure. He knew eventually he'd get bored but. For now, he was looking forward to it.

He shut the door and locked it behind him, frowning just slightly and making a note to get a better lock while he was out. He doubted he could find anything super great in town- he'd probably have to order something but. He'd passed a hardware store in town so... it might be worth checking out. If he made friends with the old guy that probably ran it he could probably get some special orders if he needed it.

So he set off that direction, wandering on foot down the sidewalks and taking note of the other houses. It was the middle of the afternoon. And the lunch whistles at the old factory still sounded at nood and then 30 minutes later. Tucked away from the tree-lined main drag, the houses back here varied from run down to better homes and gardens.

That tracked.

They got better closer to the front. The older show homes outweighed the eyesores. American primitive lawn decor. A surprising number of pineapples- and he snorted, wondering if it had come from a big box store or if it was a signal. Or both.

Still.

By the time he made it to the hardware store, he was reasonably certain he could stay busy. All was not as Leave it to Beaver as the Town Council would have you believe. And the first place he was gonna leave a flyer was in the beauty shop. Those old biddies HAD to have some shit to stir up.

He shouldered the door open and a bell, an actual bell, chimed. And he smiled a little taking a deep breath. The smell of dust, tools, and old well-maintained wood hit his nose and he exhaled. Definitely not going to find any high tech locks here. But, he had a soft spot for independent shops.

"Be with you in a minute!"

The voice made him jump. Not the gruff voice of a grumpy old fuck he expected. And it made him search of the source. Curious. "No worries," he said, walking a little farther towards where he'd heard it. Finding a young woman on a ladder stocking some boxes of bolts on a shelf. A pink canvas gardening apron tied around her hips to hold more boxes. "You got door locks?" he asked.

"Aisle 5 next to the paver catalogs," you tell him, steadying yourself so you can turn and glance down at him.

"Perfect," he said, "Thanks."

"Mhm, let me know if you need anything else," you tell him.

Jason paused and looked around, "Think you can put a tool box together for me I just moved and-"

"Ah, yeah. One Bachelor special," you tell him," Jumping down from the ladder, "I think I can get you fixed up. At least enough to get you started. You'll be smashing your thumbs in no time."

"Got a first aid kit too?"

"Right up at the counter," you snort. "But if you want anything special, you gotta see Adam at the Pharmacy. Mine are pretty basic."

"I can deal with basic- at least until you sell me a band saw-"

"Oh lord."

[simping-on-the-daily]

Some Kind of Angry Beaver

Summary: The Wolverine’s massacre has made you lose everything. Your friends are dead, you’ve left home, and the world’s hatred for mutants grows worse. You promise to yourself you’d have a few words to him if you meet again, and you do, at one of the shady bars where you both grieve your losses.

Notes: Reader is a mutant and was with Wolverine for a brief time, very very brief implications of sub!Logan. Not romantic anymore, and yes the title is from ERB deal with it. Worstie is a lot more sad and pathetic since this is early post!slaughter, gender neutral reader, not beta read we die like this universe’s X-Men, I wrote this in a day and it’s absolutely gonna show

Warnings: Logan killed some of Reader’s friends in his rampage, story is based on grief and death, mutant racism, Logan tries to kill himself but he comes back dw, and a whole lotta swearing

Before you met him, you had no clue what a wolverine was.

You’d barely heard of it, having skipped over it in some animal documentary to focus on more interesting animals, like sharks and alpacas. When you passed by a bar with a few cage fights, you heard the name Wolverine for the first time. When looking at the man’s body, admittedly luscious hair with canines and claws, you had assumed a wolverine was some type of dog or cat, before nailing it down to a wolf. Wolverine, wolf, they just added some more syllables to make a difference.

“It’s a weasel.” The man who you now knew was called Logan answered curtly upon your question, looking away from the bed which smelled of steamy intimacy from last night, and thus, turning away from you, who was on the other side, putting your clothes back on.

“That doesn’t seem very threatening,” You quipped back, putting your shirt on. “The fuck’s a weasel gonna do to the lucky guy?”

Logan gave a quick grunt. “They should be more worried about what I’d do to them.”

“If you can avoid their little collars, that is. Fucking bastards and their dampeners.” You said with a sarcastic sigh. The Senate was trying to make them more commonplace, and though the clapback was fierce, you were still a bit wary.

He gave a quick hmph, and that was that.

You stayed together for a few months. It was unforgettable, to say the least. Watching that man squirm under your touch was an accomplishment for the ages, and the moment you made tears come out of his eyes you did a little victory dance in your brain. You bought him dogtags and things you thought he might’ve liked, while he defended your honor in your ring, beating the shit out of anyone who dared to shittalk you.

“You shouldn’t have, sweetie,” You jokingly answered, upon noticing that his knuckles were still dripping red after passing by a beaten guy carried by his friends, making small comments about how dumb he was. You noticed some scars subtly close in, and turned away, pretending you saw nothing. “His ego can’t take another hit.”

“Can yours?” He answered, and your only response was a pinch of his cheek.

Of course, it didn’t last. Nothing bad happened, you simply just went in other directions. Logan kept hopping between different clubs with cage fights, and you settled in a small town and made a life there. You never forgot how it felt to touch him, but you’d seen him in action. Dude could do just fine.

You got a job, and got your own group of people. Majority of them were human, but like hell if that mattered. You shared good drinks of booze together and you cared for them. Brittney gave birth to a child, and god that kid was the cutest, fattest little fucker you’d ever seen. A few years had passed since you’d met Logan, and by then you were content. Your abilities were accepted, you’d gotten your own little found family, and you comfortably nested yourself in the community.

Brittney and her new fiancé, Ken were going to NYC for a vacation, and trusted the rest of you with their child. For the best, you know now.

“The X-Men are dead. You should be staying here.” Charlie said, crossing his arms to the couple. He wasn’t exaggerating, the X-Men were dead. Their mansion was ransacked and their bodies were fucked. You remember holding in the urge to puke, as the censoring on the news was done horrible, all the guts and gore visible. Jayden didn’t, you remember, running to the toilet and letting out a combination of a vomit and sob.

“We can’t just cancel. I promise, we’ll be safe.” Ken said, though it was obvious he was nervous. “That money can’t just go down the drain, and we’ve shortened it to just two days.”

“The fuck’s the point on going a vacation, then?” You spoke up, eyebrows raised. Brittney looked at me, before back to her now crying baby, probably from all the arguments.

“I have a gun for a reason.” Ken shrugged, and you and Charlie died down. You knew you weren’t gonna win.

“Just….keep Hope safe, alright?” Brittney’s query ended the conversation, as you nodded before giving her a hug. Charlie left the premises, and later you’d see him in the casino, trying to drown out the worry you felt.

You should’ve pushed more. You should’ve tied them to a fucking chair, drugged them with some sleeping pills or whatever. Anything to prevent what happened. But you can’t turn back time, that wasn’t your mutant ability, and now your friends are dead.

So many people were dead.

You spent three days in lockdown. All from some….monster, indiscriminately slaughtering everyone in a path that couldn’t be determined. New York was fucked, Brittney and Ken were fucked. You saw their names on a list of casualties. Jayden wailed for the loss, and you let out a few tears yourself. This shouldn’t have happened, this shouldn’t ever have happened.

The three days ended, but it felt a lot more like an eternity of Hell. Your town wasn’t touched, but you still saw so much blood as you left your home. Nothing changed and yet it all changed. This didn’t feel like home, not anymore.

When the news told you the culprit of this massacre, you couldn’t resist the urge this time. You puked in your toilet, tears running down your face. Your friends were dead to someone who you knew, who’s cheeks you gently pecked. The hands that you once held were used to slaughter Brittney and Ken and so many innocent people. Logan had killed your friends, had killed you in a way.

The bodies were returned, and you cremated the couple at their funeral. You still had some tears to cry, face blank as you stared at their urns. That was your second last day in that town. Everyone hated you now, your mutant powers were despised once more after Logan fucked everything up. No-one looked at you normally anymore. Their gazes were full of hatred and prejudice and pity and god you fucking despised it. With the knowledge that Charlie adopted Hope and Jayden had absolutely run out of tears, you left, wiping your face as the downpour consumed you.

You passed by, traveling across without a goal. You became closely acquainted with the train and bus, and you once more learned to hide your powers, something that you never thought you’d have to do again. Any progress people might’ve been working on towards total acceptance went down the drain, organizations quickly scrambling to make speeches about how ‘one mutant shouldn’t define an entire race’. You would’ve agreed, but the carnage was massive and you still saw dried blood on some walls from the Wolverine’s rampage is you looked closely enough.

After it rained again, you sought refuge in one of the nearby bars. It smelled of shit of booze, and you took a seat near the front.

“Whatcha want?” The bartender asked, gruff in his voice noticeable, and you thought for a second, looking at all the glasses behind him.

“Second heaviest thing you got.” He nodded, and quickly poured some beer in a glass. You had him a note before drinking.

You comfortably fell in the routine, sitting in silence, all the other conversations providing ambiance to your casual misery. Then, like a lightning strike to a tree, it just had to end.

The door opened again. You didn’t care, but when all the conversation stopped, you looked up. You retched upon seeing the fucker’s face, and moved farther away from the door until you were on the opposite end of the counter.

Logan either didn’t notice or didn’t care, sitting at the counter. “Fuck off,” The bartender almost snarled. “We don’t want ya kind here.”

Logan pulled out a few coins. “Not a paying customer?” He spoke, as if he was ignorant to all the shit he pulled just a few weeks ago.

The bartender grunted, pouring him a glass of wine that was obviously cheap and old. The mutant accepted it anyway, taking a long sip. He shouldn’t be enjoying himself, you thought with disdain, he should’ve been rotting in Hell without a drop of drink and no flames to light up a cigar.

The ambiance stopped, no-one wanting to talk while the beast was around. For some fucking reason, you didn’t move from your seat, and so you were just a few meters away from the ex who took so much from you.

After five drinks, you had enough. You got up from your seat and left some change behind as a tip. A more conscious you wouldn’t have tipped someone who was likely a mutant racist, but you weren’t really thinking. You wanted out, you wanted away from the monster, you wanted away from that bloody wolf.

You walked a few steps away from the building when Logan came approaching you. You paused in place, perhaps by the audacity of his actions.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, but you gave a small growl, turning them narrowed again. “For what?”

“I wronged you.” You always did need observational skills to become a good tracker.

“Their names,” You shot back with a snarl, “Were Brittney and Ken, and they were heading to New York. They did nothing to you. And you still killed them.”

“I did. I’m sorry.” He repeated, as if that would make it any better.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry!” You yelled out, pointing a finger towards the other mutant as you took a step forward. “You slaughtered my friends you fucking bastard! You lost your family, big whoop, what right does that give you to make mine too, you bloody prick?!”

You had thought about this type of scenario before. You wouldn’t give him a verbal beatdown, no, you were too classy for that. You’d say one sentence that would crush his resolve and leave him astounded as you walked away, knowing that your friends were at peace. But you were drunk and angry and your family was fucked over because of this one man, and so you went on, like a lion going overkill when it finally encountered their prey.

“I wish I never fucking met you! It’d be sooooo easier if you were just some psycho rando, but I fucked you! We slept in the same bed and I kissed you and god I fucking knew you. You were one of the X-Men, you were supposed to save the world, but all you do is make things worse!” You sobbed, dropping your hand to your side as they shook.

“And it’s god’s greatest wish that you die alone and scared, just like your fucking victims, but it’s also god’s little gift that you can’t die! And you just had to in-fucking-flict it upon all of us! All you do is make things worse for everyone, you ruined everyone’s life, you ruined my life, god fucking damnit!” You put your face into your hands and sobbed. You must’ve looked so pathetic, having this breakdown on the road in front of your murderous ex.

“I should’ve tried harder.” You murmured weakly to no-one in particular. “I should’ve stopped them. Shouldn't have relented when Charlie did. Should've done more……” Tears and hands muffled your voice. “But I didn't and now they're fucking dead.”

You finally looked up, and just like you, Logan's face was covered in tears. Good, you thought. Let him suffer.

“Should've been there for them.” You didn't expect him to talk. “Should've gotten off my ass and done something. And now they're ten feet under cuz’ I didn't.”

A stray sob escaped your throat again, looking at him, covered by rain and tears and now the moon was out. “Guess we both fucked up, huh?” You tried to smile, head tilted, with it only just looking broken and fake.

“They'd all be disappointed.” Logan confirmed somberly, as he thought back to Colossus and Professor X and Scott, all too aware of their hypothetical reactions if they knew of his actions.

“The X-Men were supposed to be heroes, weren't they?” You looked up at the stars, and held a hand up like you were trying to catch them. “But you were always the best at what you did, and what you did was never heroic. You told me yourself.” Answering your own question, your hand flopped to the side again. The stars didn't feel so luminescent, not right now.

Logan gave a small grunt, trying to wipe away his tears. “I know. I'll carry it for the rest of my life. It's what I deserve.”

“It's what you deserve.”

You spoke at the same time, before you gave a fake small chuckle. “God, you're fucking horrible.” You paused for a second, letting out another pretend giggle. “Thanks for telling me what a wolverine was, Logan. Cuz’ I know that you’re the fucking worst one.”

You lunged forwards and punched him in the cheek. It hurt like hell, and Logan didn't flinch, but fuck did it feel good.

“Fuck you, Logan. I hope you rot in Hell, you bitchin’ bastard.”

He only nodded, tears still cascading down his face as you stormed away and walked away, just like you did to your home.

You found yourself sitting on a bench, still raining and still wet from your encounter. Your ass was fucking freezing. Maybe you deserved it for being such a bad friend. You wouldn't be here if you had been there for Brittney and Ken. You had a lot of tears in your body, you realized, as you sobbed once more, grieving the loss of everything you once had. God, you hated beavers.

Logan hated himself too. That should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t. You were still just as empty and sad as you were this morning, just this time you were drenched and drunk. You looked up at the stars again, and though they were still just as dull as they were when you encountered Logan, you still gazed anyway. They were all you had left.

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

Logan rushed into the dump he called a home, a retch stuck in his throat as he frantically searched. Your words were repeating once more, becoming one with the fucked up chorus that was his mind, mocking him for even considering that you’d want him back. It was a passing thought that he immediately disregarded, but the voices milked it, acting as though he’d been pining over you for years.

He’d never forgotten you, you were important to him. But you moved on, and so did he, and he tried to shoot his shot with Jean. But Jean’s dead, and you weren’t, and you hated him. As you should, he didn’t blame you, he hated himself. And yet it somehow stung.

The cacophony roared with laughter at his turmoil, and he clutched his head, praying they’d get out. He couldn’t handle your voice, he couldn’t handle Jean’s voice he couldn’t handle Colossus’ voice he couldn’t handle Scott’s voice he couldn’t-

Finally, he found it. He snatched the gun that was hidden in the sofa, a desperate last resort who times like these, when they wouldn’t stop. His finger stroked the trigger almost tenderly before putting it to his head.

“You know this isn’t gonna work, right?”

“Bro forgot he has a healing factor. Did all that killing make him braindead or what?”

“You don’t deserve to die. You deserve to live with this for the rest of your life.”

He knew that. He deserved all this pain, but Logan was never the paragon of morality. He was a selfish prick, who ruined everything he touched and yet he was the last one standing. But he wanted the voices to go, he wanted them to stop, and he wanted to stop crying because God it’s just been a dam breaking on his face since you yelled at him.

He was alone, and he was scared. Just like you wanted him to be. He embraced the trigger, and felt tranquil as the surge of bullets went through his brain.

It was only serene for a few minutes, but for Logan, the worst Wolverine who killed so many innocents, who ruined any chances of the world accepting mutants, who drunk so much it got his family killed and still drunk? Even a second of that serenity was a touch of heaven that Logan didn’t deserve.

[writingdisposal]

Vying (Alastor x Gn!Reader x Vox)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

cw: mentions of violence, drugs and vulgar language (minor stuff, nothing extreme)

wc: 3,750

Part 2

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hell's latest arrival is fascinating indeed. They have already accumulated a vast amount of souls in an alarmingly short period of time. It has even the Vees in a mild panic as they discuss the matter in the conference room of Vox Tech Interprise.

"How come no one has even seen 'em?" Vox groaned, leaning back in his chair. Valentino was playing around with a few pills. "I don't know, but some of my whores have gone missing," he crushes a pill in frustration as he spat out, "I don't enjoy some new-comer threatening my business." However Velvet seemed the least bothered by it. She scrolled on her phone, whilst the guys kept discussing how to move forward. According to the web forums, imps and sinners alike have been attacked. "And none of your fancy cameras caught them?" Valentino asked, a snicker escaping his lips, "Looks like they weren't worth all that money..." Vox shot him a glare. White noise quietly filled the room before dying down again.

Sighing Vox replied, "That's why I'm so fucking confused! No matter who, I was able to track 'em..." "Heh, sounds like the whole Radio Demon thing all over again," Velvet remarked, still scrolling away on her phone. Vox clenched his fists. Valentino noticed and whistled lowly, "Carefule sweetheart, you're breaking the TV again." "Why are you even here if you're not bothered by the situation?" Vox snarled. Giggling Velvet answered, "Why shouldn't I watch you two losers panic over some nobody?" "This 'nobody' has killed several sinners and is on track to become a new Overlord if this continues," Vox retorted, standing up to leave the conference room, "it's going to be bad for business." Valentino continued fiddling with the drugs, whilst Velvet just hummed, "Don't get too upset though, darling!" Vox grumbled, leaving as swiftly as possible.

Either this new arrival will pose a threat to the business or become a new ally of the Vees, there is no other way to look at it, at least for Vox. Now that the damn Radio Demon is also back in town, this new-comer could also attract his attention. Sighing deeply, Vox can only hope Alastor won't humour their existence and just ignore it instead of making them sell their soul away. The infamous Radio Demon getting even stronger. Vox couldn't imagine how fucking annoying that would be. He was also expecting the hotel to take priority over the new-comer, at least for a little while.

Typing away on his broad computer, Vox quickly skimed through his camera systems in case they caught something. They caught no attack, however an unfamiliar figure appeared on screen. It was a far leap, that this was the power hungry new-comer, but it was at least something to go off on he supposed. Keeping a close eye on them, Vox continued stalking their moving. They are of a fairly small frame for sinners. Not necessarily petite, but small enough for it to be noteworthy. Their appearance resembles that of a beaver, Vox noted. They picked something up from the ground. A phone perhaps? To be honest, he thought he was wasting time. They were just aimlessly walking around and now seem to be entering an alleyway? Curiosity got the better of him and Vox switched into the right camera.

The scene before him shocked his very core. The one possibility he hoped to not unfold was staring right back at him. Alastor stood before them. His grin was as bright as ever. Both of them were conversing, but the camera was far high up, picking up only little audio. Vox was fuming, slamming his fists on the table. Should he go and interrupt them or just watch them? Alastor didn't notice the camera yet, seeing as how the screen was still clear. In the end, he opted to keep watching them.

In the meantime, Alastor was quite amused by the little copycat in front of him. "My, my! It seems my legacy is still intact on earth," Alastor declared proudly. The other sinner could only cross their arms. "Your 'legacy' is only known because you got caught," they snarled, pointing a thumb to their chest, "I never got caught! Only that wretched heart of mine failed me!" Alastor gripped his staff tighter as his grin started straining. "Carefule now, sweetheart. My death is a touchy subject," he warned, the static noise slightly increasing. They only rolled their eyes, Alastor however heaved a breath to calm down. "Nevertheless, you are just like me! Using the same style and method as I used to," he remarked. Clenching their fists, ready to fight, the other sinner barked, "I'm (Y/n)! I'm more than you! What the fuck is your problem? What do you want from me?" The Overlord twirled his staff as he adjusted his coat and said cheerfully, "Well you see, my dear! I've come with an offer." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, but ultimately relaxed.

"I've noticed your rapid killing spree, yet again reminding me of the simpler times when I first arrived in hell," Alastor chuckled, a wide smirk etching on his face, "I thought to myself, a talented soul such as yourself would need a good ally to guide them through the furious flames of Hell, so I wanted to offer my services!" "No thanks," (Y/n) curtly answered, "I don't want to keep hearing your yapping." Alastor shrugged, "What a shame, I would have preferred to use no violence." Before the new-comer could react, Alastor pinned them up against the wall with his shadow arms. (Y/n) struggled against the demon's might, while Alastor stepped forward slowly. "I think you misunderstood, dear," he explained, static noise following his voice, "I need your allyship and I believe it to be quite beneficial for you too." "Why? 'Cause you won't kill me? I don't care!" (Y/n) shot back. Alastor snickered, but before his lips let another word leave, white noise fills the air.

Vox slides through the air and finally lands behind Alastor. He adjusted his suit before speaking, "Radio Demon." (Y/n) saw Alastor's grin exceedingly strain. He turned his head before fully facing the other Overlord. "Can't you see we are busy here?" Alastor asked irritated. "What the fuck are doing with the new-comer?" Vox replied. Clicking his tongue, Alastor retorted, "That is none of your business. Now shoo, we still have matters to discuss." "You're not discussing shit without me!" Vox barked, "I want them for myself and for the company." "Oh, piss off!" Alastor hissed, his static noise increasing significantly, "Your little group was too late and now I got to them first." "My Vees are more capable of taking such a soul than your old ass!" "Why you little-" Alastor stopped as he realised (Y/n) left his grip.

"How?" Vox exclaimed. He looked around the alleyway before they both hear a voice from above. "You guys suck!" They yelled from the rooftop, "It's gonna be on my terms if I wanna see you again, so leave me alone!" Swiftly they left, leaving the two Overlords simmering in anger. Vox sighed in defeat, "I guess, I'm taking my leave- Huh?!" The camera which got him here in the first place was now destroyed and hanging by merely a single cable. He looked to his side, seeing Alastor's leaving figure wave dismissivly without another glance. If Vox's internalt cooling system wasn't that effective, he would have steam escaping his frame right now.

After leaving the alleyway, Alastor made his way back to the hotel. How troublesome for Vox to show up. Alastor would have preferred this interest of his to not get noticed by Vox and subsequently by the other Vees. A contract with (Y/n) would certainly have been most ideal, but Alastor was ready to accept just about anything as long as they followed his lead. He viewed them like a little puppy and a very cute one at that. They keep on barking, but sound far too adorable to be threatening. "Maybe," Alastor thought, "we can even expand our relationship to something more proper." It was an indearing image to have them be sweet to him, especially since they have such a feisty personality. He would even graciously offer to be sweet as well. Ah, to get to that point will be difficult, but so thrilling as well!

His thoughts wandered back to the hotel. Charlie went on and on about how wonderful it would be for this 'oh-so' tortured soul to find themself healing in the hotel, so that also could have helped with his relations to her too. Alastor gripped his staff tighter. But of course that won't happen because of that noisy little picture box. The next time he sees that good for nothing demon, he is going to make him remember what it means to get on the Radio Demon's bad side.

Nevertheless Alastor kept his pace brisk and his destination in mind. "After that disaster, whatever chaos is happening in the hotel will probably lighten up the mood," he mused, grinning with far more genuine care. For what it's worth, the hotel has so far always been mildly entertaining at least. "Oh shit," a voice said as soon as Alastor entered. Before him stood (Y/n) who apparently just secured a place in the hotel, assuming by Charlie's big smile. Laughing hysterically, the Overlord couldn't help saying, "I thought you wanted to be left alone? Change of heart, my dear?" (Y/n)'s expression soured at the mocking display, while Charlie looked confused. "Wait do you guys know each other?" she asked, gazing between the both of you. "Yeah, we met. That fucker pinned me up against a wall," (Y/n) explained, frowning at Alastor who had stoped laughing, but still had a shit eating grin on his face.

"Oooh, kinky~," Angeldust remarked. Alastor briefly glanced at him before resuming to look at (Y/n). "So you're also staying at this wonderful establishment?" He asked, loving the way their eyes widened at the revelation. "Not anymore," they answered curtly, making their way out of the door. "Wait! Hold on!" Charlie intervened, placing a hand on their shoulder, "I'm sure we can look past this!" "No, not as long as that guy apologises for stalking me and pining me up against that wall!" (Y/n) stated, crossing their arms. Charlie looked at Alastor. Alastor looked at Charlie. He frowned. "You can't possibly be serious?" "Come on! It is the only way to fix the damage," Charlie expressed, placing her hands on her chest, "I know it's difficult to admit when we were wrong, but it is never too late to start doing the right thing." Alastor rolled his eyes. "Very well, as you wish," he cleared his throat, fixing his gaze upon (Y/n), "I apologise for my rude and improper behaviour. It won't happen again."

(Y/n) relaxes a little. Although she didn't really believe his apology, Charlie being able to keep him in check was good enough for now. "However!" Alastor continued, "I want you to keep in mind, my behaviour was purely made out of good intentions." "That's a lie if I ever heard one...," Husk chimed in dismissivly. Alastor shot him a small glare which made Husk turn away. Charlie was beaming, "See? We can all become good friends!" "I'd be fine with settling for acquaintances," (Y/n) stated, smiling for the first time since arriving in hell. "Just fine by me, darling," Alastor commented, "How about I give you a tour of the hotel? I know my way around here quite well." (Y/n) wanted to decline, however upon seeing Charlie's pleading eyes, they accepted.

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" Alastor clasped his hands together, "Let's start immediately, shall we?" He extended his arm for (Y/n) to interlink it and hesitantly they did. As they are making their way through the hall, (Y/n) hears Angeldust lowly whistle, "Damn, wouldn't have thought creepy eyes to have the hots for someone..." Groaning quietly, (Y/n) tried ignoring that statement. As soon as Charlie was out of sight, (Y/n) stopped holding onto Alastor's arm. He allowed it, continuing to talk about the hotel. They stopped at one particular room. Alastor taped on the door. "This shall be your room! Allow me," he said, opening the door and letting them in first.

The room was definitely spacious. A cushy queen-sized bed accompanied by a cute nightstand. "Sweet!" (Y/n) exclaimed, jumping face first into the bed. Groaning they commented in muffles, "So much comfier than my old bed..." Rolling onto their back, they sat up and looked more around. In the corner there was a closet as well as a nice couch coupled with matching table. A TV stood in front of the bed. However Alastor noticed the TV too and by the snap of his fingers replaced it with an old fashioned radio. It looked as stylish as the man himself, but (Y/n) would have definitely preferred the TV. "Hey! Why did you replace the TV?" "Well, I believe it to be way more entertaining than that picture box!" Alastor explained, adding, "You also know you will never have someone listen in on your conversations." Slumping back onto the bed, (Y/n) groaned obnoxiously loud. Instead of finding it annoying, Alastor merely laughed at the childish display.

"You can be quite cute when you're less feisty," he commented mindlessly. (Y/n) sat up straight. They looked at him. How can he make such a comment after attacking them? "Is this all a game to you or something?" They asked, genuinely confused at the disconnect this Overlord had to their situation. Alastor cleared his throat, adverting his gaze. "I do not view it like that necessarily, but I suppose the analogy might still work," the Demon began, stepping closer and closer to the bed, "The feistier you get, the more interested I become, so I win. You act more docile and you will still have to deal with me, so you continue losing." "But if I become 'docile' as you put it, you will lose interest, won't you?" (Y/n) asked, backing away slightly as Alastor's grin seemed to reach his eyes again.

"If that's what you believe, sure," he chuckled, "I might lose interest." Scowling deeply, (Y/n) hoped for their looks to kill. Sadly Alastor still stood before them and continued, "You know, I only mean well." "Yeah right," they retorted sarcastically, rolling their eyes. "No, no," he replied, taking a seat on the bed, "I'm quite serious, dear." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, saying, "So that's why you attacked me? You make no sense!" "Alright, allow me to explain my thoughts," Alastor began, placing his staff to the side, "There are many dangers as well as quirks in hell a new-comer such as yourself wouldn't know." He gazed in (Y/n)'s eyes. Their shine reminded him of the stars his mother and he would wish upon. Alastor continued, smiling softly, "I mean, you thought I could kill you for example." (Y/n)'s eyes widened. "You can't?" They asked shocked.

Alastor shook his head, "No, not exactly. I do have ways to eliminate folks, but not to kill them for good. That specialty is reserved for angels only." Giving him a questioning look, (Y/n) silently asked for him to elaborate. Alastor did, explaining how the extermination takes place every year. Well, now it happens every 6 months. "Wow, yeah no," (Y/n) murmered, scratching their head, "I wouldn't have known that..." They scowled, "But wait, that doesn't explain you trying to force me into some allyship?" Chuckling Alastor explained, "That was far too forward, I'll admit. I just couldn't help, but find having my little fan in a contract with me to be most adorable." "I'm still not your fan, or copycat for that matter," (Y/n) pointed out, smiling at his ridiculous behaviour.

Alastor shrugged, "I suppose we will never come to an agreement on that." The Demon stood up before remembering something. "Oh! On that note, you might want to visit the cannibal district," Alastor suggested, loving the way their eyes lit up, "I'll gladly accompany you anytime you wish." (Y/n) nodded, joking that he should pay for their visit as an actual apology. Surprisingly Alastor agreed, calling it a 'rendezvous'. "Sure, as long as you pay, I don't care what you call it," (Y/n) remarked, finally relaxing on their bed. "Then that's settled!" Alastor declared, making his way out of the door after adding, "If you need me, I'll be in my room right across the hall." That made (Y/n) look at his retreating figure with wide eyes. This motherfucker planned this right from the get-go. What clever little asshole...

Ah, whatever! The guy is kind of okay now in (Y/n)'s eyes. I mean, he did give them solid information about this place, so that's good. Pulling out the phone, they stole, the sinner fiddled with the password before opening it. The background wallpaper was some red guy with a wolf? Werewolf? "I guess, I can ask Alastor about the creatures here...," They thought, mindlessly scrolling through the phone and occasionally changing bits and pieces. Their thoughts circled back to what Alastor said with how someone can listen into their conversations. Was he referring to that TV guy? And does this apply to anything electronic like a phone? I mean, a radio is also powered by electricity, but Alastor is fine with those, so maybe it's only TVs.

Chuckling to themself, (Y/n) muttered under their breath, "That TV guy was so lame... Showed up to just bitch..." White noise fills the room after the words leave their lips. Through their phone Vox entered the room. "Hey! That was uncalled for!" He yelled, pointing at (Y/n) who sat up on the bed with a grin. "I figured you were a loser, but you definitly topped expectations," they giggled, finding his flushed face hilarious. Vox was about to retort, but instead he cleared his throat. He lowly chuckled, "I think we met on the wrong foot, let's start fresh." Stepping closer, Vox took the opportunity to take (Y/n)'s hand and give it a quick peck. "The name is Vox," he looked up at them through hooded eyes, "I'm the CEO of VoxTech." (Y/n) retrieved their hand, wiping it on the bedsheets and murmuring a quiet 'ew'.

Vox frowned, but quickly bounced back with a smirk. "I told you, you suck," they reminded him, growling, "And if I wanna get to know you, it would have to be on my terms. Now leave before I show you what I'm capable of." "Oh, I know what you're capable of," Vox smiled devilishly, "my cameras caught a good handful of your attacks. It was truly fascinating to watch you eat those souls up." (Y/n) quirked an eyebrow, "You done?" Vox continued, "So I want you to join my team, the Vees. You will experience great benefits from it, I can assure you." "I don't wanna join some team. Alastor is already enough to deal with for now," (Y/n) explained, turning their back to Vox, so they could continue playing around with the phone.

"Hey!" Vox's voice was a little distorted. He turned (Y/n) to their back, effectively pinning their shoulders. "That old-timey freak is a waste of time. If you go with me, I can open any door you want! Everything will lay beneath our feet! All you have to do is join me," Vox explained, sparks of electricity flying through the air as he tightened his grip. (Y/n) blushed a little due to the closeness, adverting their gaze. Expecting some sort of rebuttal, Vox didn't understand their reaction. As he allowed himself to actually think for a moment longer, he realised the position, he put them in. "Oh wait, shit," Vox immediately backed away, stuttering, "I-I didn't mean to- Fuck, I blew it..." "I make that decision, mind you," (Y/n) reminded him, making Vox's eyes wide. "So you're considering my proposal?" He asked, his voice laced with pure anticipation.

(Y/n) couldn't help, but find the behaviour mildly amusing. If Vox had a tail, it would be walking back and forth right now. "I guess, I'll think about," they replied, noting the huge grin on Vox's face, "But I don't you to be around me and listening into my conversations. Especially those with Alastor's." Pouting Vox groaned in annoyance. "If you don't follow that, I will not only refrain from joining the... your team, I will also make sure to eat your soul up and leave no crumbs," (Y/n) threatened, making Vox chuckle. "Sure, whatever. As long as you consider me, I can follow that small request," Vox said, stretching his arms, "Well! I'm gonna take my leave now." Smiling softly Vox looked into (Y/n)'s eyes, "It was a pleasure speaking to you, sweetheart." And with a snap of his fingers he left as he came, finally leaving (Y/n) alone.

Heaving a big sigh, the sinner relaxed once again. What a weird guy... "He is just like a puppy...," they thought, smiling gently. Hell really is chaotic, as expected, but this certainly tops expectations. (Y/n) can't wait for what Hell has in store for them.

[bbgoffic]

Cackling at Obi wan and Satine being like "oh God here come the murder" and then Anakin comes in with a lightsaber to the chest and he just looks so damn smug about it.

Like the villain is all "haha this moral dilemma is so paralyzing"

And Anakin of course give no fucks about war crimes and murder per usual just ganks the bitch at juuuust the right dramatic moment so you know he was listening (probably to hear if Obi wan would confess or not to prove a point)

And after this... After the tension of what a big deal killing this guy is, he fall to the floor with a thud and all Obi wan has to say is:

"Anakin"

In the most Leave it to Beaver 50s sitcom cadence like holy hot cakes everyone must be head over heels for little orphan annie to not be even like a code yellow on the self preservation scales around him.

[targetslovelyworld]

Stampy’s Lovely World Dashboard simulator

🍪 randomwordotd Follow

Random word of the day: Frogs!!!

( 56 notes )

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

Only 342 days until Christmas!

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Halloween is better

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

I disagree with that personally.

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

You can’t disagree with me I’m right

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

This your house?

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

WHAT

🧜‍♀️ lovelovepetalz Follow

Oomfies fighting on the tl again

#its funny though #reblog # // not flowers

( 85 notes )

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Who put Stampy Cat in charge of the weather I feel like I’m going to get heat stroke just stepping outside

🧸 longshot-btg Follow

its not that serious bro

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

It hasn’t rained in 4 years what the fuck do you mean its not that serious

🧸 longshot-btg Follow

that sounds like a you problem

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

When I get my hands on those dogs I will exile you

#its gonna happen #his dogs WILL be mine #just you wait and see

( 5,937 notes )

🥧 pumpkinmunchkin Follow

new hit the target plan leak hes going to steal the dogs by taping a photo of stampy cat onto his head with the hopes that the helpers wont catch on

#he would be stupid enough to try to pull this off

( 428 notes )

💿 giraffeconstructionsite Follow

i think i botched the recipe this potion isnt kicking in

💿 giraffeconstructionsite Follow

( 25,173 notes )

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Nobody decided that Stampy should get to rule over everyone. The fact that so many of you people are complacent in his regime is sickening to me.

☃️ christmasmiracle12242012 Follow

im henry i am a snow golem and i like snowball fights and playing in the snow :D

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

?

#what

( 7 notes )

🍪 randomwordotd Follow

Random word of the day… BERRY

( 93 notes )

🐱 mr-stampy-cat Follow

Making a cake with my favorite helpers! Such a lovely morning.

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Your days are numbered.

🐱 mr-stampy-cat Follow

Not much of a threat coming from you, Mr. “I spent thirteen years consistently failing to take one guy’s dogs and now I’m salty about it”

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Not much of an insult coming from you, Mr. “I don’t let anyone else speak except for me because I’m self-obsessed and don’t care what others have to say in the slightest”

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

This is why your wife left you.

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Go fuck yourself

#imagine being so desperate to win an argument that you drop the veeva card #that should be an indicator that your argument fucking sucks #bringing up a lads divorce as a gotcha moment #how typical of a brainwashed helper

( 109 notes )

🌆 is-veeva-dash-dead-yet Follow

No.

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Go to hell William

🌆 is-veeva-dash-dead-yet Follow

Who is this “William” you speak of? I am very clearly is-veeva-dash-dead-yet

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Two can play at that game.

🎇 is-william-beaver-dead-yet Follow

No.

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

Wow! Unprovoked, Veeva!

🎇 is-william-beaver-dead-yet Follow

If I have my way I’ll be posting the word yes tomorrow

#and nobody will miss you

( 323,791 notes )

[heremob]

Wanted to talk a lil bit about some of my HTF OC's families so here you go

Starting with Scaredy!

Scaredy was in a Orphanage at a city named "Pine Town" since he was a little ugly fucking baby, he lived there with his "siblings" aka the other 40~ kids and teens. Scaredy lived with all kinds of kids and teenagers, the takecares weren't really super caring It was more like a "job" than a "parenting", overall It was a pretty okay place with ups and downs.

his "Biological parents" didn't wanted nothing to do with him, so nobody knows who are them since Scaredy just, showed up in the orphanage.

Living your childhood knowing that your parents abandoned you is not really a good experience, It was lonely.

Cassady!

Cassady lived with a really rich and religious family, her dad was a drunk guy who was never home, the only signs of him where his left whisky and other alchoolic bootles in the table, and her mother is the "Other mother" from Coraline kind of person, a really controling woman who wanted the "Perfect Future" for her daugther, she smoked SO MANY CIGGARETTES and its kinda impressive how long her laungs lived.

It wasn't a good house hold, a controling mother and a drunk father, yeaaah, Cassady hated everything in there, she was raised to be perfect, If she made a mistake the lords would punish her for disappointing her parents, for failing.

Gordon!

Gordon lived with his Grandparents! His Grandpa was a River wolf fisherman and his Grandma a beaver cook!

His parents were divorced and his mother couldn't be there with him because she was working in another city, and his father went to buy some milk and never came back.

But its okay! Gordon was really happy with his Grandparents, his mother would send letters and his old folks were always there for him! He is really glad for having them

His Grandpa would always take him fishing for some good family bond It was great! :D

Bloody!

Bloodyoung (their name) had a very normal family, nothing special, a present mom and dad in their life, a normal household, they where a really curious child! Always exploring! Its a shame that their parents have no info about them now...

Sad to see what insanity did to them.

[spoonsand]

CONTAINS SPOILERS

Just finished my second playthrough and I have to say: I hate Dutch more than Micah. Don’t get me wrong Micah is scum, but Dutch knew (mostly) everybody in the gang for over a year. Sometimes over a DECADE- and he still turns his back on them. All the kids he and Hosea raised, didn’t matter, the ‘last’ score mattered. The last robbery mattered. Not the orphans or runaways he raised, taught and loved.

Micah is a superficial type. You know he’s evil. When you first meet him, you know he’s bad. But I liked Dutch in definitely the first 3 chapters, I was still liking him in 4. Guarma was iffy. Beaver Hollow is where it all goes downhill. I noticed the decline since chapter 3, but I feel it really steepened in 4 and 6 (Guarma didn’t happen). But back to Micah- you know he’s evil. The way he talks, the way he acts, his beliefs, you just KNOW that this guy isn’t who you’d want to come to your rescue (RIP SADIE). Micah did what he had to do to survive. He never had loyalty in mind, he has his own being in mind.

The Van Der Linde’s whole gang/family was so BASED on loyalty that people killed and died for the gang. Miss Grimshaw mentions killing another traitor. Molly (mistakenly assumed as a traitor) is killed because that’s how strongly they value loyalty. Loyalty (mostly to Dutch) was how the whole gang was founded.

Hosea had the same loyalty, but he actually cared about the people. I think Dutch only cared about the image. Hosea said that he cared for the people that died following Blackwater- that they mattered to him. He wanted closure. Dutch used their deaths as ammunition for his speeches. As a reason for the gang to keep on going. The only thing that set him apart from the O’Driscolls was the fact he cultivated the image that they were a family and that he might have cared. The O’Driscolls didn’t have the same loyalty to their members. When Kieran was captured they didn’t try to get him back. He said he was as good as dead if he wasn’t with the Van Der Linde’s. Dutch took Kieran in to set himself apart. The loyalty. The image.

Hosea kept Dutch in check. After Hosea died, Dutch couldn’t be kept in check. He didn’t have someone he valued highly who truly cared anymore. Micah took over Hosea’s place as the highly valued peer. Micah’s influence was never for the good of the gang- and that wasn’t a secret. Micah’s influence was for his own gain. But what I can’t get over is once Micah had that influence, Dutch didn’t care about anyone anymore. Especially towards the end. He used Eagle Flies, he left Arthur, left John (TWICE), didn’t care about the women, didn’t care about little Jack. Dutch cared about Tahiti. One last score. Reallllly messing with the Pinkertons. Getting the gang to safety wasn’t a priority. As I mentioned earlier- loyalty to Dutch was how the whole gang was founded- Dutch says something about John and Abigail and that women are poison. At the end, John was more concerned with Abigail and Jack rather than Dutch. He didn’t like that. Dutch didn’t like that John was more loyal to his FAMILY than him. He didn’t like that Arthur was more loyal to John than him. Micah, Bill and Javier didn’t have family available to have that stronger loyalty to. They had Dutch and only Dutch. I’m sure that Dutch also had beef with Hosea and Bessie; especially when they left.

But Dutch turned his back on John and Arthur- his sons. He raised them. When Susan was shot, he didn’t bat an eye. He loved her at some point. All these people he’s known for 20 ish years. Or the newer ones, that again, he either raised or feigned affection. And nothing. Turned his back.

FUCK DUTCH YOU BASTARD I HOPE HELL IS AS NICE AS TAHITI

[planetcleer]

anyway regarding modern day losers club and friday nights!!!!

mike and ben both play football and are, respectively, derry high's star quarterback and best offensive lineman (and help lead the varsity team to three state championships!!!) and are super tight w the rest of the team

eddie obviously joins the cheer squad freshman year, the first boy in derry high history, after being dared on a whim by richie, and is instantly like?? REALLY into it, so he sticks with it all four years and eventually becomes co-captain. he's also fucking adored by the girls on the squad and is one of the flyers lmao

the rest of the losers have their own resident spot in the student section of the bleachers that no one dares touch, and they all pile into richie’s or bill’s car to travel to away games

stan pretends not to be into it at first but he rivals richie in sheer volume every time the beavers score. he also crochets matching scarves and hats for everyone, and is always loaded with snacks and hand warmers

richie doesn't actually sit in the bleachers, like, 98% of the time. you can find him hanging off the railing flirting with eddie at almost any given moment, and standing on the middle rung leading the student section in cheers, which is wild bc he generally has zero school pride

bev gets really into face painting and sits all of them down before games to cover them in paint and glitter. sometimes she ropes bill in to paint remarkably intricate cartoon beavers on their cheeks (richie makes jokes about it being the closest he’ll ever get to one to which no one high fives him)

bill is generally pretty quiet and attentive during the games, bc he writes for the school paper and also does sketches (think courtroom sketches lmao) for it, but he and bev will fully scream at the top of their at the refs for letting shit slide w the other team or calling stupid penalties

eddie is super protective over ben and mike. he's prone to stomping out to the field in the middle of the game to chew tf out of a rival player for tackling mike too roughly or trying to talk shit/start a fight w ben between plays. richie LIVES for this (“rock his shit eds!!!! get his ass!!!!!!!”) and mike & ben have learned by now just to let it happen but do always post up and have his back. one of the guys does shove eddie once and eddie makes a show of falling down and screaming his head off until he’s benched, and when he sees him again after the game he just winks and blows a kiss at him

the losers will make an appearance at the house party of choice after every game w the rest of the team/squad but they have their own tradition of going to the 24hr diner in town and cramming into the corner booth in the back and then all sleeping over at one of their houses

bonus unrelated headcanons:

richie is a drama/theater kid and literally ROCKS it, isn’t as big a fan of the musicals but still does really well, prefers the straight plays and improv club (same loser energy brought to his shows)

stan is either a mathlete or on the debate team and also is on the swim team!! (same loser energy brought to his meets)

bill runs track and cross country (same loser energy brought to his meets)

mike also writes for the school paper, he does a weekly history column, he and bill spend a lottt of time together working on their articles

eddie starts wearing makeup to games freshman year for fun but ends up really loving it, bev buys him his first palette, brush set, etc etc that christmas and they practice together, and eventually he starts leaning into a more fully femme style. he also stops gelling his hair (bless)

[i-may-be-an-emu]

OKAY IVE WATCHED A LOT OF SHOOTIMPRO NOW THESE ARE MY FAVOURITE BITS

audience member: "FILM NOIR!!!" improv guys: *pulls out a cigar*" you see, I've actually killed a man-"

the german beaver doctor

"A NUN KILLED MY FATHER!!!"

The driving lesson one

the tailors bit one where the tall guy kept making it incest

"be a bitch to me!" "youre half the man my father says I deserve."

"And I've just remembered this was a a Shakespearean comedy so BOOP I've been a girl this whole time!"

"And I say EVERYBODY UP and then they jump and then BANG!"

audience member: "COMEDY!!" plaid shirt guy: "We're trying fuck you!"

"GCSE DRAMA SHAKESPEAREAN TRAGEDY!!" "do you know what comest int he morning? when the sh- shards do come at you." "all I know is that it's okay if you comest in the morning, it's a natural part of growing up 😀👍" (that entire tiktok is gold honestly)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH YESSSSSSSS :DDDDDDD JOIN THE MADNESS

THOSE VIDEOS ARE AMAZINGGGGGG AAAAAAAA

I’m so happy that you like them!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAA these are some of my favoutie moments of theirs!! I have quite a few and it’s so hard to choose but I LOVE the “everybody up! And then bang”, “boop! I’ve been a girl the whole time!” And the tailor bit!!!! I love all of these so so much though, these are just some of my favourites from that list :DDDDD

[bleachbleachbleach]

Been thinking about Shinji and Momo and specifically abt them in relations to the system or the ideal of the system that kind of screwed them over. With Shinji being unjustly thrown out and no one rlly fully unpacking how much of an HR concern was Aizen’s weird boundaries with Momo. You once mentioned in one of ur posts abt Shinji that the Vizards for sure do not come back with full trust in the soul society again and have their own agendas. This makes me wonder how Shinji and Momo navigate that system together now that both of them have made the decision to continue to serve under it? Momo, herself does come across as duty bound but has shown instances of acting against it when she feels the need to for the sake of the greater good (like disobeying orders to save hisagi, or admitting that not all laws are good laws even if she’s technically quoting Aizen) Sorry for the rambling! These two just fascinate me cuz I feel like aside from the whole Aizen thing, they’re like two diff flavors of being back on the job after being screwed over. The somewhat jaded mentor and the eager beaver who got the rug thrown under her.

We joke about Gotei HR all the time, but honestly in the context of their own world and worldviews would Aizen and Hinamori come across to anyone as having weird boundaries? I’m not saying it didn’t get weird but I kind of feel like part of the nature of the thing is that it’d be hard for anyone in Soul Society to point to anything Aizen did that was notably weirder than anything else everyone else does. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be an HR violation somewhere (I just completed my state-mandated sexual harassment training three days ago, so it’s all nice and fresh, LOL) but even if the Gotei had HR I doubt it would have helped in Aizen and Hinamori’s case.

I know there are people who get very deep into canonicity debates about whether Aizen and Hinamori ever slept with each other, but I’m not personally all that interested in the genre as a whole—like, the nailing down of what is or isn’t canon. In fanfic, I figure anything goes if you can make it work for you in your story. For my part, I think Aizen would take pride in not having to have sex with Hinamori in order to make his plans work. Like an *everyone* does sexual manipulation but he doesn’t even *have* to and that’s the *beauty* of the game kind of deal.

But to the question itself!

My take on Shinji is that he is, of course, very well aware of the ways the Gotei fucked him and the rest of the Vizard, and has no illusions about that. But he’s not someone who simmers in that in the same way that Hiyori does.

Honestly, maybe a good comparison might be that Shinji treats the Gotei the way he treated Aizen as a vice-captain. According to Aizen, that was a mistake, but Shinji knows the Gotei better than he ever knew Aizen. Arguably, the Gotei is more knowable than Aizen. Shinji has a certain savvy about him with respect to the Gotei as an institution, and if you now how it works, then there are degrees to which it can be managed, and perhaps even made to work for you. And if you want that to happen, the only place you can do that work is inside it, as one of its Captains. Shinji’s known that since even before TBTP, probably since before he was even himself a Captain the first time around.

But I think another key element here is that Shinji is very, very good at separating the work from the institution from the people. He can engage his octopus brain and hold the meaning of what shinigami effect in the world separate from the ethical and bureaucratic conundrums posed by the Gotei, separate from the personalities that make it up (which are the problem and the best part about the Gotei in turns). He reminds me of this guy who’s been in my toxic-ass profession for AGES but still has a ton of energy and capacity for wonder and enthusiasm and being smart in ways that make everyone smarter, and he manages this by being absolutely ruthless about not getting all sopped up by departmental drama or overly precious about ~the profession~ and making very intentional decisions about what matters and what absolutely doesn’t. I think having that as a model was incredibly useful for Hinamori, as someone with a propensity to care deeply for and about everything.

I mentioned in the tags of another post that I envisioned Hinamori as having a healing justice orientation to the world, part of which is about locating “evil” outside of individuals. It is not inherent, but made. While this does not absolve Aizen of his actions or their supporting worldviews, a path to forgiveness is at least partly about recognizing the bigger picture that produced the conditions for the fomenting of these views/plans. (And that’s before the many ways the system failed them in ways that didn’t come directly through Aizen.) Which means that moving past Aizen is also about moving past the Gotei/Soul Society, while also continuing to work for it—in a major, responsible way.

Like, Hinamori is not clocking in to sweep the floors and then leave to her wife and kids. She’s leading the thing. So what’s the journey there? We see her reclaim her role as 5th Division Vice-Captain in the Winter War (as distinct from being Aizen’s Vice-Captain—ymmv on this, like Matsumoto’s does). In that role, Hinamori has not seemed to have much of a problem with challenging authority when she felt it just to do so, even in moments of more even temper (shouting at Byakuya over Renji’s unconscious body lol). Which I feel like lends credence to the idea that Aizen’s betrayal was probably not her introduction to the world being often an unjust and deeply painful place, or even to the Gotei being these things. Like, I think she understood that. Maybe Aizen even talked to her about that, and part of why she liked him so much was the opportunity to have these long, intellectual conversations about philosophy and governance. And what do you do at the end of these conversations? You can be bitter and angry about it; you can be angry and want to burn it down; you can drink the Kool-Aid and become complicit in it; you can naively deny it and either become complicit in it or get destroyed by it; or you can—

Do what Shinji and Hinamori do about it together, which is to resolve to be the energy they wish to see in the world, which in their interpretation also requires some complicity—being officers in Gotei—and, having made that choice, periodically needing to process that. I mean, I think that’s part and parcel of being involved in any kind of institution (I know I think about it allllll the fucking time), but I imagine the experience is further magnified by the particular histories Shinji and Hinamori have with the Gotei.

I imagine sometimes—a rough week at the office, or in the aftermath of a Blood War they wonder if they aren’t being too complicit. Or, conversely, if they aren’t echoing Aizen too much, in their resolution to craft a world of their own devising. But they were different people, both from each other and very much from Aizen; their devices and visions are different, too. And so the fear falls away.

It will come back. It will probably never leave. But sometimes it’s better to be haunted than not, and ghosts can be welcome reminders.