#here both surface level and deep stuff but if u follow me on here u already know for example that i have a fursona

[yo9urt]

my secret dream is that one day a beautiful man stumbles upon this blog perhaps through a network of mutuals perhaps through a search result perhaps through any other strange and mysterious but divinely ordained and timed manner and we become mutuals and then friends and talk all the time and he falls in love with me but doesn't say it but one day he DOES say it and i also fell in love without saying anything too and then we get together and then some time later we get married and live happily ever after et cetera

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: ok. hi. here we are again. i go on a 1948392 year hiatus and then become inspired to write something from the most RANDOM thing. but this was too good to pass up. so essentially i saw a headcannon by @incorrect-ft-ez-quotes and then @bbygirljuvi added onto it:) look at my most recent reblog for reference if u want hehehe. yeah ok maybe i did add some bs healing abilities to juvia’s powers... sue me! ok here we gooooo i hope u cuties enjoy!!!

*

“Popsicle,” Natsu sighed. “What the hell are you doin’ back here?” He held his door in one hand as he stared at a recently familiar face.

“What, a guy can’t stop by and visit his best friend?” Gray nervously chuckled.

Happy and Natsu weren’t buying it, exchanging suspicious looks as Gray impatiently stood at the door frame.

“Best friend?” Natsu rose an eyebrow.

“And for the 4th day in a row?” Happy jabbed, hovering beside Natsu’s head

“Would ya’ just let me in?” Gray spat out, clearly looking jittery.

“Fine.” Natsu groaned, stepping aside so Gray could step in.

“But we’re gonna’ start charging rent!” Happy exclaimed.

“Whatever, I don’t care, just as long as I can hang out here for a little while.” Gray hustled in, plopping himself onto Natsu’s worn down couch.

“Ok, you can stay here on one condition, tell me what it is you’re freaking out about. And gimme’ the real reason you’ve been comin’ here.” Natsu folded his arms.

“Aye!” Happy mimicked Natsu, crossing his little paws.

Gray let out a groan, bowing his head between his legs before whipping his head back up. “It’s Juvia, ok!?”

“Juvia?” Happy asked.

“But, you haven’t tried avoiding her in forever. You guys have been all buddy-buddy lately.” Natsu was trying to piece this all together in his head.

Gray blushed, averting his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“So what’s the deal?” Natsu was doing his best to get straight to the point, as nuance was not his strong suit.

“W-well... we... kind of... sort of...” Gray scratched at the back of his head, searching for the gall to say it. “We got drunk the other night at the guild, and then I went to walk her home since she was pretty wasted, and...one thing lead to another and... we almost kissed.”

Natsu was as confused as ever. “So?”

“So?!”

“Well, don’t ya’ like her?”

“W-well-!” Gray stammered, and gave out a defeated sigh, bowing his head again. “Yeah.” He mumbled to the point that Natsu or Happy could barely hear him.

“So then why don’t you wanna’ smooch her?” Happy was almost as dense as Natsu.

“Gah! You guys don’t get it!” Gray sprung up. “Forget it. I’m gonna’ find a new hiding spot. Preferably, one that asks less questions.”

Just as Gray made his way to Natsu’s front door, there was a sudden knock. Gray froze in his tracks as a chill went up his spine. He had a knack for this sort of thing, knowing when Juvia’s around, and that chill only ever meant one thing.

“Shit.”

Gray needed an escape route, but his head wasn’t on straight. He frantically scoured the little house, looking from wall to wall, but there was only one door, and Gray was just feet away from it.

“Natsu, whatever you do, don’t-“

“Be there in a sec’!” Natsu shouted at the door.

“You idiot!” Gray whisper yelled.

Natsu opened the door to none other than Juvia. She was known for her expressive nature. The look on her face could tell you anything you want to know, without her having to say a word.

“Hi, Natsu-san.” Juvia said both frantically and nervously. “Juvia was just wondering if Gray-sama was here.” She held her hands together promptly, hoping that he would be there.

“Actually Gray-“ Natsu was cut off at the sound of shattering glass. He instinctively spun around to a disastrous scene, displaying a broken window, shards of glass everywhere, and no Gray to be found. “Just left.” Natsu finished the thought differently than he originally intended.

Juvia heard the shattering too, and she had her answer. Her Gray-dar never failed her. Using her Gray-dar she quickly scurried to the back of the house, crossing her fingers that Gray hadn’t gotten away yet. The first thing she heard was a hiss of pain, and as she turned the corner, there sat her Gray in the ground, holding his bloody knee.

“Son of a bitch!” Gray yelled in pain, applying more pressure to his cut knee. Sure, he was used to getting beaten to a pulp in a fight, but he wasn’t exactly expecting a busted up knee right about now.

“Gray-sama!” Juvia’s eyes widened at the blood, and she hurried to his side.

Gray finally realized her presence. He stopped writhing in pain for a moment, and tried to appear as casual as usual. “Oh...” He forced a laugh. “Hey Juvia. what are you doin’ here?”

“Juvia should be asking you the same thing.” She knelt by Gray’s side. “But first, let Juvia help.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let Juvia see it, Gray-sama.”

He sighed, giving in and releasing his hold. Juvia quickly took her hands and placed them on Gray’s knee. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and suddenly her hands became water, but it wasn’t normal water. It was soothing, and it was making the stinging in Gray’s knee go away.

“Juvia has been working on some healing techniques. It’s nothing like Wendy, but I can heal some minor, surface-level things.” She explained, using her water hands to massage the area.

“Now that Juvia has finally caught you, why have you been avoiding me?” She finally looked at Gray who blushed at the sudden eye contact.

“I haven’t.” Gray tried to sound as natural as possible.

All Juvia had to do was give him a look that practically screamed “oh, please.” before he cracked. “Ok, fine. I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Juvia knows!” She exclaimed.

“I just don’t want things to be awkward between us!” He explained.

“But you don’t think avoiding me for days would make it awkward?” Juvia finally finished his knee and reverted her hands back to normal.

Gray groaned. “You’re right.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to hide his face.

“Is this about... the other night?” Juvia finally asked.

“Do ya’ really have to even ask?” Gray avoided eye contact.

“But Juvia thought the night went well! I had a lot of fun!”

“So did I! Until...” He cut himself off.

“Until we almost kissed?” Juvia finished it for him.

“Yeah.”

“I see.” Juvia paused. “Are Juvia’s lips chapped?”

“Huh?” He finally peaked up at her.

“Or did Juvia have something in her teeth maybe?” She was going into panic mode.

“No that’s not-“

Juvia cut him off with as gasp, and her hands slapped against her mouth. “Or does Juvia’s breath stink?! Is that it?!”

“Would you knock it off!” Gray finally stopped her. “It doesn’t have to do with any of that stuff.

“Oh.” Juvia sunk. “So Gray-sama just does not want to kiss Juvia then.”

“No!” He instantly cut off that thought, even though he was embarrassed by how eager he sounded. “Not that either.” He grumbled.

“Then..?”

“We were drunk. Yes, we were having fun and all, but, I dunno’.” Gray grumbled, looking for the right words. “We haven’t had our first kiss yet. So when we do, I want it to be... kinda’... special. I guess. In a way.” Gray finished with some filler words to try and take the heat away from his face, but it was no use.

“S-s-special?! Gray-sama wants our kiss to be special?!” Juvia lit up, almost freezing in time waiting for someone to pinch her, because she figured this had to be a dream. However, she still was a bit lost, so she put a pause on her momentary fantasy. “Wait, so then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Because I didn’t know how to tell you all that. I was trying to buy some time until I could figure out what to say.” Gray released a deep exhale. “But I guess I’ve said it all now.”

“You sure have.” Juvia said giddily right before she launched herself at Gray, tightly clutching Gray’s shoulders in her arms as her cheek was pressed up firmly against his.

“Gah!” Gray shouted in surprise, trying to keep his balance as Juvia leeched onto him. They were still sitting, but she almost knocked him flat on his back.

“But you know what, Gray-sama?” Juvia broke her clutch, making sure she was looking right at Gray.

“What?” He looked down at her curiously.

“Juvia thinks every moment with Gray-sama is special. So to Juvia, any time is perfect for a first kiss.” She smiled so sweetly is made Gray’s heart just about burst.

“Yeah?” Gray felt the corner of his mouth tug up.

“Yep.” She nodded in assurance.

“If you say so.”

And without a second thought, Gray closed the gap between them, planting a sweet and soft kiss on Juvia’s lips. As they parted, they leaned in and pressed their foreheads against each other, both wearing matching grins.

“That looked pretty special from in here!” Happy interjected from inside the house, followed by Natsu’s laughter.

Gray and Juvia jumped, startled by the sudden noise. “Happy, shut it!” Gray turned his head, looking through what used to be a window, and seeing Natsu and Happy standing in their living room.

“Maybe we wouldn’t be able to hear you two slobbering on each other if there was a window here!” Natsu yelled, referring to the gaping hole in the middle of his wall.

“We were not slobbering, you moron!” Gray blushed furiously, finally standing up and facing Natsu.

“That’s what it looked like to me!” Natsu teased back, wearing a devious smile.

“Aye!” Happy seconded.

“Mind your business, flame-for-brains!”

“Next time you need to hide out for a week, you ain’t comin’ here!” Natsu shouted.

“Fine by me.” Gray scoffed.

He then looked back at Juvia as she appeared a little on edge, wondering if she was going to have to break up a fight between Gray and Natsu.

He grinned once again, at the girl he couldn’t wait to spend more special time with, making more memories, and growing even closer

He reached for Juvia’s hand and squeezed it. “I was gettin’ tired of running away anyway.”

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Back The Future (part 3)

Summary: Vivi and Arthur travel back in time to the beginning of Hellbent. Neither of them are okay. 

(Part 1) (Part 2)

.

Mystery, instead of answering Vivi’s questions, leaps over the seat dividing the front and back areas of the van, exiting out the back doors.

“Wait, ” Vivi yells after Mystery, “get to back here and explain what happened to my memories.”

/It is not a tale that can be simply told. Not right now when we may be in danger/

Arthur thinks kitsune turned dog sounds slightly strained but it’s hard to really tell with Mystery’s weird telepathy. When the meaning of words are projected right into your brain some of the nuance is lost.

“Who is Shiromori? Why is she attacking us?” Vivi tries, following to glare at Mystery who circles the van, barely paying attention to the two of them. “Just answer one question!”

His mechanical arm twitches of its own accord and he eyes it nervously.  To hell with it. Arthur frees his hand and begins to feel about for the quick release lever hidden under a panel on his upper arm. After the van crash and almost getting thrown to his death, the arm had been too banged up to safely remove, jamming in place.  Best to be rid of it now, before everything when to shit all over again.

The sound of his heavy metal arm hitting the ashfelt draws Vivi’s attention and she turns to give him a quizzical expression.

“Better off then on,” He explains, “Wasn’t really working that well anyway. Hopefully, that’ll get rid of the curse as well.” Honestly, this cruse is the least of his worries.

Vivi exhales and Arthur can see the stress pinching her mouth, pulling it down into an uncharacteristic frown, “If the curse is specifically attached to your arm then removing it might work. On the other hand, if it’s anything like the one that got my memories then who the hell knows what will work. I certainly don’t. Apparently, I don’t know a lot of things.”

The last sentence is louder, directed at Mystery. There is no response from the dog who is staring off into the middle distance, head to one side like he is listening intently for something.  Arthur offers Vivj an uneasy shrug. He has his own questions for Mystery regarding Vivi’s memories, his arm, and the night they both went missing. However, his most recent run-in with dead-Lewis has him quickly reordering his priorities. None of the answers are going to mean much if he’s dead. Again…

Speaking of which… On the horizon, a purple light flares, glowing brightly against the dark backdrop. Arthur’s mouth goes suddenly dry and limbs feel very cold. Yeah, that seamed about right…

/You called this spirit Lewis?/ Mystery turns his head to examine him, expression troubled. /Are you sure?/  

He gives a short nod, eyes darting from Mystery then back to the road. It looks like Mystery is planning something based on how his fur is glowing red. He’d seen a similar red glow on the night of Lewis’s disappearance and during the confrontation outside his Uncle’s workshop. How much did Mystery know about Lewis? The question sticks in his mind, painfully heavy.

“Lewis? You mean the purple fire ghost? The one that caused the van crash?” Vivi steps up next to him, eyes locked onto the truck which grows quickly larger, “How are we going to stop it from running us all over?”

It’s too late to try a drive or run away now. Even if he decides to run there is a steep rocky slope on one side and a sharp climb on the other. If he did make it down by some miracle there was just flat desert and no cover for miles. Arthur doesn’t voice this observation instead commenting in a voice several octaves higher than normal, “I don’t think you need to worry about the ghost running you over. I’m pretty sure he’s only after me. So…ah…maybe don’t stand near me?”

Why? Why was Lewis trying to hurt him? In his mind’s eye, Lewis and Mystery meld together into a nightmare inferno of fire, teeth and death.

“I don’t want you to get run over either.” Vivi’s voice sounds faint, coming to him like it has travelled a great distance. Too much fear packed into too short a timeframe is making it harder and harder to concentrate. The ice at her feet thickens into long sheets, which creep out over the road, freezing it solid. He is probably lucky his remaining arm hasn’t frozen off with how tight Vivi had been holding it. Maybe if he turns into a giant Arthur icicle and he can sit this whole thing out. The hysterical thought momentarily breaks through his mounting panic.  

/Wait./

Arthur can almost hear the crackle of fire and the hum of the truck's engine.

/ You should not be drawing on so much of this power at once! You’ll damage the seal further!/

“I’m not letting Arthur die again. Anything comes near us and I’ll make whoever it is, regret it… that includes you.”

Vivi steps out so she is positioned in the centre of the road.

/I can handle this confrontation. There are still many aspects to the situation that you remain unaware of./

“And how am I supposed to fix that if you won’t tell me anything.”

/ I swear I will explain when there is more time. I only ever wanted to protect you./

“I don’t believe you.”

Vivi snaps the final sentence and punctuates it with a sharp hand gesture aimed at the oncoming truck. Several lines of ice stretch out and down the road, racing away from Vivi to meet the oncoming vehicle. Shining an ethereal blue, the frost coats the road’s surface, smoothing it over. Arthur catches the briefest glimpse of skeletal Lewis before the truck hits the ice sheets and the wheels suddenly lose traction.  The sound of metal crunching is deafening, accompanied by the hiss of water abruptly vaporising. Heat and cold collide in a cacophony cracking ice and explosion of steam.

A flash of bright purple fire. Mystery disappears, obscured by the thick columns of steam. He finds himself being yanked to the side by Vivi just in time to watch the purple truck careen past in a shower of sparks and groaning metal. At such high speeds, it rams straight into and through the guardrails separating the road from the rocky slope. Stunned, Arthur watches it disappear over the edge. If Lewis hadn’t already been dead then Arthur might have been worried. The sound of banging and crashing, as the truck presumably roles several times, has him physically wincing. Scratch that, he was worried. Very worried. Worried enough that it overtakes his mental panic and replaces it with deep concern. How durable were ghosts? He doesn’t know and that scares him. 

“Vivi! What the hell,” He finally manages to spit out, breaking his panic-induced stupor. He tries to rush past her, intent on checking for any signs of Lewis. He promptly slips. The combination of ice and his lack of a second arm throws off his balance and he ends up falling backward. He is saved from a collision with the ground by Vivi who seemed to now have supernatural levels of balance and was unaffected by the slippery surface.

“I …wow. That was… something.” Vivi breaths, examining the road still covered in planes of ice as if not quite believing it.

“Help me to the edge,” He interrupts, trying and failing to stand straight collapsing back on her, “I need to see if he’s okay,”

“Who’s okay? The ghost?"

“Yes.”

"You want to see if the ghost is okay? You said it was trying to hurt you?”

Arthur can practically see the concern and confusion now hanging over Vivi as she looks down from where she's holding him up by his one good arm.

“It’s just…a misunderstanding or something. I…we…might know this ghost.”

“What?”

“Just help me check.” He motions with his remaining arm. Visible through the plums of steam are thicker lines of darkened smoke coming from the space where the truck had disappeared.

....

Note: I’m Sorry to everyone who’s showed interest in this AU but i’m not sure if i’ll continue this since i’ve lost motivation.  Here are some of the more coherent plot notes if people are interested in this AU. Feel free to ask questions if u have any :) . 

...

-   Shiromori shows up directly after Lewis’s crash, distracting Mystery. With all the steam obscuring their vision Arthur and Vivi don’t realise that Shiromori has arrived immediately, and there is enough time to briefly look for Lewis. 

- Lewis makes it out of the truck crash only slightly worse for wear and tries to attack Arthur. Vivi moves to defend Arthur, then Arthur has to defend Lewis and it’s all very awkward for everyone. 

- Lewis sees how scared Arthur is a reconsiders his revenge plot, hesitating long enough to get some dialogue in. 

 - Arthur finally gives Vivi a brief Lewis overview (sans the whole ‘he almost threw me off a fake cliff thing’). Vivi is suspicious and somewhat unconvinced. Lewis is slightly confused when Vivi starts referring to the alternate time line. 

- Not time for further discussion because Mystery is fighting Shiromori and, since he had warning this time, he’s winning. 

(fight scene stuff. Vivi rushes in to do something idk this part is not planned.) 

Vivi overused ice abilities. 

Lewis and Arthur have a moment alone. 

Vivi, slightly untrusting of Mystery, ends up stepping to stop the two from fighting. (Vivi ends up saving  Shiromori maybe??? a parallel  to the original timeline). A dramatic moment where Vivi rushes in ( maybe takes a blow for Shiromori idk would depend on Shiromori’s backstory) and ends up injured. 

- ??? makes an appearance, takes over Vivi instead of Mystery. 

Some background world building stuff

- Vivi’s ice powers might become unsealed and she is vulnerable to ??? (spiritual energy is damaging to humans if too much is used at once or if is not used correctly)

- Yukino family are spiritual channels making them both more powerful and more vulnerable. Mystery holds a seal to the ability and it eats up a tails worth of power to maintain. Same deal with Shiromori, Mystery holds a seal to keep her fully realised abilities in check which also eats up a lot of power.

- The seal is damaged when Mystery is hurt

- Arthur is unaffected by the ice because he’s got some odd time based supernatural power which has bonded to vivi spiritual signtaure as well. This is the reason ??? want to possess Arthur. One possible resolution was for Arthur to figure out how to rewind time to the seconds before Vivi gets possessed, giving her a chance to defeat ???. It takes a lot of power which Lewis ends up giving to him. 

[orbitariums]

you should see yourself* | tom holland + woc / plus sized reader

the asterisk mark signals sexual content! i know i said i wouldn’t post tom smut on this blog but i’ve become super attracted to him lately so. here it is. also, i know that i post rlly cute imagines so this is gonna seem SO out of place but there’s no hiding it! 

also, this starts off really cute so if you just wanna read the cute part and no smut honestly go ahead, i’ll warn when it gets smutty. 

contains: plus-sized/thick reader, lots of talk about body image and self-worth, dick-riding, blowjob, encouragement, nude-taking, very wholesome and not wholesome all at once. hope you enjoy. 

disclaimer: this imagine is not meant to say that you need a skinny white man (whom we love!) to tell u that you're beautiful in order to actually feel/be beautiful! u already are. i just thought the concept was attractive honestly.

Tonight was a low key night at Tom's place. He had rented an expensive penthouse near the area he was filming his new movie and you had tagged along with him, which meant you got to stay with him in his luxury penthouse, watch him film, and be a part of his celebrity lifestyle.

And, being his girlfriend, you were already a part of his celeb lifestyle, reaching low level celebrity status yourself on Instagram, gaining quite a few followers just for being in a relationship with Tom. But here, you got to see what it was really like.

Currently, it was a long day of work and you were finally relaxing with Tom, the both of you exhausted but still somehow awake, keeping each other company. You were both sprawled out in his California king bed, the sheets distraught and pulling in every which way. You were each half covered by the sheets and watching TV on the huge curved TV feet away from you.

Tom was shirtless with his arms sprawled out and a drink pressed to his lips, while you were cuddled into him, your head on his chest and your hands resting on his chest as well. His curls were a mess from filming all day and being out all day but he still looked good.

Next to you on the end table was a box of pizza that only had two slices left, considering the first thing you did when you got home only an hour ago was order a pizza and cuddle in the dark bedroom. The only lights in the room were coming from the glare of the TV screen. Tom spotted you still awake on his chest and hummed, kissing the top of your head and running his fingers through your hair,

     "Oh, you're still awake. I thought for sure you'd passed out."

     "Nope, still up," you said, blinking tiredly as fuzz was coming up in your eyes.

You wished you could say you were up because you weren't tired, but that was a lie, you both were. Tom was tired from filming and being out all day every day, and you were tired because you insisted on being by his side all day every day and being a supportive girlfriend. You wanted to be with Tom as much as possible, see it through that he was enjoying his career and just be able to experience the magic that was his acting.

But being Tom's girlfriend could be tiring, even if you just wanted to support as much as possible. Even though you had gained a few fans from being Tom's girl, you had also gained a lot more media attention than you had bargained for, and a lot of negativity.

The negativity surrounding you dating Tom wasn't a big deal, you didn't care much about that aspect of it. But you did care about the things people said about your physical appearance - first there were the people who were angry that you were a woman of color dating Tom, deemed unworthy for him simply because of your skin color.

Your friends had all said you were way out of his league and that Tom was lucky to even have the privilege of dating a woman of color, but some people on the internet had very strong opinions against that. Next, was the explicit body shaming you endured.

None of the hate was very terrible on either end but it hurt your heart a little when you posted a picture of yourself in a bathing suit or on the red carpet with Tom in a dress you thought was nice, and saw those blurbs of comments talking about how big your boobs were, the noticeable bit of stomach you had, your thick thighs or your cellulite.

It was embarrassing to have your body nit picked like that, and as much as you tried to tell yourself that none of those comments mattered and that you were beautiful no matter what other people tried to tell you, and that every body was beautiful, you still thought about those things from time to time.

The hate wasn't so excessive that anyone really seemed to notice, even Tom. He of course was too busy commenting heart eye and drooling emojis on every single one of your posts, and he never occupied himself with haters or negative energy, but he still wanted to protect you with every fiber of his being. So it wasn't that he was ignoring the hate or being dismissive of it, it was simply that he was too obsessed with you to even acknowledge that anyone else could hate you.

So, you were up, overthinking, as you sometimes did, all the comments that you got and all the hate messages you received, as few as there were, prowling your mind.

You looked up at him in search for his eyes, but he was distracted by the TV. So you patted his chest, your head still resting down on him and purred his name,

      "Tom?"

     "Hmm?" he hummed, looking down at you and going back to massaging your head.

You bit down on your lip tentatively, like you were scared of how he might react to what you were going to say,

     "How do you deal with all the... the hate comments?"

Tom just smiled lightly and laughed, a bit confused,

     "What do you mean, love?"

You shrugged nonchalantly as if none of this related to you, trying to sound as oblivious as possible, as if you were simply curious and not practically asking for advice,

     "You know, like, people being mean to you and nasty for no reason? How do you deal with that? Like, getting mean comments or messages."

Tom shrugged too, as if this were no big deal to him,

     "I mean, luckily, I don't get a lot of hate. But it definitely happens - every now and then there'll be some rude comment or something that makes me just a teensy bit sad. But then I perk up and remember it's all good. Because I have a beautiful life, with beautiful people around me and that person is probably just lacking beauty in their life, that's why they feel the need to comment mean things."

     He could sense how you had paused, a slight tension rising in the air as you just sat there, and he looked down at you again, his strong hand now caressing your arm gently up and down. He could sense you were deep in thought, staring into the dim and darkness and thinking about nothing.

     "Why? Something bothering you?" he asked, his tone concerned as he gazed down at you, stroking your arm and nuzzling his chin into the top of your head.

You looked up at him again and couldn't help the pout that had made its way onto your face, frowning,

     "People say... mean things under my posts sometimes. Now that we've been out publicly. I didn't say anything to you because I didn't think you noticed and I didn't think it mattered that much, but it's been getting to me. Just a little."

Tom sat up a bit and cradled you in his arms slightly so you were still cuddling with him when he moved, furrowing his brows,

     "What? Who's saying stuff? What are they saying?"

If you hadn't been so deep in thought you would've smiled, even laughed, at his sudden posture of concern and how fast he had gone from sleepy and unbothered to alert and concerned. But you were honestly just trying not to cry. It was probably the mixture of hurt from the comments you got and the fact that you were exhausted that was making you feel so emotional all of the sudden, but it was all coming to the surface now.

You had tucked away the feeling each of these hurtful comments gave to you, letting the hurt sit and soak in some locked away place for far too long, with no outlet to let out the way these comments made you feel about yourself. You had even become a bit self conscious in real life, gazing at yourself for longer than usual in the mirror when you were undressing, or wondering how your thighs really looked to other people when you sat down.

You even found yourself self conscious around Tom, even though you knew he loved every part of you for who you were. But sometimes in the bedroom you became careful of how you moved or what angle you were at, and although these moments didn't happen often, the fact that they occurred at all on account of the fact that those comments were stored somewhere in some tiny place in your mind was something to note.

You didn't want it to bother you at all, and you wished you were one of those people who could say it didn't bother you and mean it, but unfortunately you weren't. Still, you didn't want Tom to worry too much, so you just said it nonchalantly, as if it didn't bother you much,

     "I dunno. Just random people... sometimes your fans who I guess aren't really your fans. They'll just comment, just... mean stuff."

     "What mean stuff, babe?" Tom pried, and you cursed him for being so caring because you really didn't want him to worry so much, but you knew you shouldn't downplay anything or lie to him.

You almost felt like crying and Tom could tell from your very voice that you were holding back tears that had been brewing up inside of you for far too long,

     "They just... they say things about us. Saying I don't deserve you because I'm not white, which is like, okay whatever fuck you. But then some people will nitpick and point out things about my body that I never even noticed. I know I'm not like, a fucking skinny Amazonian goddess, but I'm not a monster. Like, I never noticed my cellulite or my rolls or my stretch marks until after that."

You had let a tear shed, but you weren't thinking about Tom anymore, you were just letting your feelings free flow.

     "It's like, those type of comments make you take a long, hard look in the mirror and they make me feel like picking at my entire body. It's like, it's not that many comments and I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but it's like the first time since grade school anyone has said anything about my body that has really stuck. You know? It hurts, even though I'm probably one of the most confident people I know."

It didn't even take a beat for Tom to start speaking once you finished. He shook his head slowly over and over and wrapped his arms around you.

     "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Come here, baby," he said.

And with that, he lifted you up gently and placed you over his lap so you weren't cuddling your head into his chest anymore, but you were straddling him, your legs on either side of him. He was making direct eye contact with you even in the dark of the night and the dim lighting of your room. He placed his hands on your arms and was caressing your arms up and down gently.

     "You... are beautiful," he said, his face so serious and yet so faithful that you knew he was telling you that you had better believe it.

Your entire body felt warm as he graduated from your arms to your waist, letting his hands run along your sides - you were in just a pair of boy briefs and a sheer blouse you only wore inside. His hands ran along every curve on your side, every part of you that you had been overanalyzing in the mirror due to comments, his hands seeming to possess some type of mending magic that made it okay again. Because he loved it all, and you did too, beneath all the comments that had been bogging you down.

     "Yeah?" he said, less of a question than an agreement that he wanted you to acknowledge.

     "Yeah," you said meekly, nodding gently, looking down into his eyes.

He positioned himself so he was leaning upright against his pillow and his hands gripped onto your sides so he could hold you in place, and he leaned forward to press soft kisses to your neck,

     "Never let anyone tell you or make you think any different, okay?"

     "I know, but-"

     "Nope, no buts. You are definitely the sexiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on, okay, inside and out. And a lot of people want what you have, that's why they leave those comments. Or they're really sad about their lives, unlike the two of us. Those people that say those silly things like that are crocks of shit, honestly. And I know it's easier said than done, but you can't let that get to you, babe."

You pouted out of happiness, cooing,

     "I love you."

     "Love you too, darling. I'm serious though, do not ever let a stupid asshole, 'fan' of mine or not, make you feel less than. Hell, it's me who doesn't deserve you. I don't ever want you to look in the mirror and see anything less than what you are, which is a beautiful young lady who deserves the world. You're hardworking, smart, and you know what you want. Not to mention you're so supportive in everything I do, which is so much to ask for. So fuck them," Tom said, closing off beautifully.

     Now you wanted to cry, this time for the right reasons. Your bottom lip quivered as you gazed into his eyes, and saw the admiration and want for you in his eyes, and heard the genuine tone behind his words.

     "Baby, stop, you're gonna make me cry," you joked, chuckling a little.

     "You're gonna make me cry," Tom said back to you, and you laughed at his ever so charming, personable personality. "Come here," he then said, his voice lower and less baby talk like.

     "I'm here," you teased, smiling down at him playfully.

     "I mean come here," he said, his hands traveling down to your butt as he pulled you closer onto his lap so you were straddling him directly on top of his crotch.

[ okkk folks we are entering smut zone if you do not wish to read the smutty part ] 

He was wearing a hoodie and some boxers and you were thinking of how easy it would be to take both those things off of his body. His hands were traveling from your waist to your lower thighs and cupping your ass from time to time, and he was smiling mischievously, that sort of know it all smirk he had appearing on his face.

    "Not to be possessive but I like knowing I'm the only guy who sees you like this. I mean really like this. You know how many guys would die to have you on top of them, and it's me who wins the jackpot?" Tom said, his teeth showing in his small smile.

    "Oh yeah?" you challenged him playfully, smirking back.

    "Hell yeah. Kinda crazy how that works, yeah?"

    "Super crazy," you nodded, just giving in to whatever he said and giggling.

    Before you knew it he had pressed his lips against yours and he was kissing up against your neck and speaking softly into your ear, already taking off your blouse with swiftness. You bit down on your lip, covering your chest with your arm because it was cold, and smiling cheekily down at him.

    "You're so sexy," he said unashamedly, leaning back and surveying your body and how you looked with no top on, now wanting to see how you looked with nothing else on tonight.

    You just giggled, used to Tom's comments during your times like this, but now it meant something more and you felt giddy inside. You looked down and started to palm him through his boxers. He was already getting hard but your touch made him grow rock hard beneath your palms, and the friction between the two of you made you both sweat.

You were leaving that girly mode and you both knew what you wanted, it was so clear. Tom's eyes, usually bright and animated, were now hooded and lustful, and you got a sense of excitement that you were the only one who got to see him like this.

You pulled at the collar of his hoodie and cocked your head to the side, surveying him, and asked,

     "You want me? Only me?"

Tom nodded ever so seriously and you saw his jaw clench,

    "Only you."

    "Promise?" you teased him, kissing him right on the lips, a long kiss that would've lasted longer had you not pulled away first.

    "Of course," he said, and his voice threatened to crack just because he was so in awe of you and the control you had over him - he didn't understand how anyone could say these things about you.

    You slid out of your underwear, Tom's eyes immediately dipping low to the exposed skin, filled with lust and want once more, nearly salivating. He let his fingers drag absentmindedly along your clit, focusing on that one area and listening to your change in breathing patterns - he already knew what you liked but he always listened. He was rough and yet loving, two of his fingers grinding up against your clit in slow circles, making you erratic.

    He looked up at you, though you were looking down at his hand, continuing those wicked, slow circles into your clit and in a lower voice than usual he said,

    "I want you to ride me." When your only response was a whimper that stemmed from the stimulation he was giving you, he said, "Yeah?"

    "Mm hm, I got it."

     "And I want you to know you look fucking fantastic taking my dick, okay?" he pushed some of your hair behind your ear. "Really do it, okay?"

    "God, yes," he stopped the motions against your clit and slid his hand away, placing his fingers in your mouth for you to suck.

    "Good girl. So wet already."

You bucked your hips against his erection in his pants and he understood, sliding his sweats down until his erection sprang out, sitting against his stomach until he wrapped his hand around the base and made you scoot closer. To tease him, you grinded your hips up against the base of his dick, making it wet with your juices. You looked at him, head already hung back in bliss, and licked your upper lip with your tongue. That worked every time.

     "Does that feel good, Tommy?" you asked him with a devilish grin on your face, your eyes teasing and inticing in the darkness of the room.

     "Yes, baby, feels so good," he groaned, facing you again and watching your hips roll against him, your wet pussy smearing against his lower abdomen.

     You took his dick into your hands again and cupped him in your hands, stroking him up and down with both hands closed around him, smirking at him. He was enjoying it, you could tell, his stomach rose and fell faster and he had to clear his throat abruptly. But he stopped you, placing his hands on your waist,

     "Stop that, darling, you're gonna make me come already."

You tilted your head innocently,

     "But don't you want to?"

He was placing soft kisses against your neck again, and squeezing your ass with his hands as he shook his head and in a low voice said,

     "Not if it's not inside you."

You bit down on your lip when he said that and your heart jumped, and now you were bored of teasing him. You positioned yourself above his tip and he kept his hands tight around your waist as you let the head of his dick tease your entrance. You mewled out, your face contorting in pleasure, your mouth dropping open slightly,

     "Baby that feels so good," you gasped, still not letting yourself drop all the way down.

Tom pressed his lips against yours and you let his tongue inside your mouth, kissing passionately until you found the sensation of his dick pressing against your flit too strong and had to do something. You dropped your hips down slowly onto him, taking in the whole of his head and the shaft until you dropped fully down onto the base of him.

You had already pulled apart from him in the kiss by the time you started to slide down, desperate moans leaving your lips. Tom on the other hand, has his jaw clenched fully and his eyes closed, his breathing heavy. You sunk down completely onto him and then circled your hips around him so you could feel all of him inside every part of you.

     "Baby," you whimpered.

     "Mm hm?" Tom answered back, his voice just as soft and weak.

     "I can feel all of you inside of me, so fucking deep inside of me," you whined, rolling your hips once again as he hit all your spots.

     "Yeah? You like when I fill you up, huh?" he sighed out and brushed some of your hair back, a question to which you had only physical responses as answers.

You licked your lips as you placed your hands down on his chest for support as you lifted yourself up and started to ride him, slowly at first and then picking up speed, your breaths becoming short, high pitched gasps. Tom was filling you so fucking well and at the same time, he felt your wet pussy around him and how warm you felt around him, fitting him like a glove. 

Your walls surrounded his length and the feeling of your wet folds slicking against him, increasing lubrication made him cry out. He felt like he had something stuck in his throat as he kept swallowing, but he couldn't help but let a few deep groans escape his lips.

You felt his hands all over you, every part of you, touching and kissing and caressing your body as if to remind you how beautiful it all was and how much he enjoyed seeing it, especially like this. At one point he had his eyes shut closed, hand covering his forehead and temples and his mouth open, just moaning and grunting.

    "Fuck, babe," he groaned out, breathing out unsteadily from his nose and

    "I'm close, baby," you panted, practically digging your nails into his shoulders.  

   "Come for me, YN," Tom said, biting down on his lips. You started to slow your movements, going from bouncing on his dick when you came up to the top and then slowly grinding your hips forward once you sunk down onto him, a move that made him moan out and jerk his hips forward into you. "Fucking hell," he moaned out, closing his eyes once again. "Christ, YN," he chuckled out.

     "This gets you every single time," you said, having to hold back a moan to laugh.

He laughed a bit,

    "I'm a simple man."

But just a few moments later your casual talk became full of filth and praise yet again, Tom staying true to the purpose of you riding him and encouraging you to come. He didn't just start sex with you just to start it, he wanted to see you in your confident space again and when you were riding him, you were incredibly confident and comfortable. 

You looked like a goddess on top of him and he wanted you to see that, wanted you to remember that no one else's opinion mattered. He liked the feeling of being dominated by you, and what better way to dominate than to be on top?

    He started to praise you, his words filthy and somehow wholesome at the same time, making you want him to pound into you as you increased your speed as he spoke, slamming down onto him and putting you both into an ecstatic state.

   "That's it babe, there you go darling," he said, smiling and smirking up at you, his eyes unashamedly focused on your breasts bouncing up and down each time you took him all in and then came up again. "You've always been incredibly good at this, YN, you know that?"

    "Yeah? How long have we been dating again?" you giggled.

    "Just over a year," Tom smirked. "And you always look so good taking all of me, don't you?"

You just whimpered in response, overwhelmed by his words and the feeling of him inside of you, your head rolling back and hair hanging behind your head.

     "Yeah," Tom bit his lip with a mischievous smile and kept talking you up. "You look so beautiful doing something so filthy. You're so gorgeous, everything about you is, inside and out. Don't forget that."

    "Tom," you moaned out his name, and he cocked his head, his hands now rubbing on your thighs and waist, holding onto you tight,

    "Yes, love?"

    "Don't stop, I'm gonna come," you moaned out, feeling the build up in your stomach and needing that final release to let it all go.

    Tom inched his hand forward and started to rub slow circles on your clit, heightening every sensation you were feeling and making your stomach lurch with a feeling of euphoria. He was focused on his hand for a moment, but then looked up at you, his eyes deep and genuine but a small smirk on his face. It didn't even sound like him for a moment, when he casually noted,

    "You should see yourself from this angle."

At that, you nearly made a full stop because of the earth-shattering orgasm you were experiencing, letting go everything that had been built up. You couldn't hear for a second, but from the look on Tom's face, your orgasm and clenching around him as you came continuously led him to his own orgasm. You were breathing hard and fast, feeling his hot pumps of cum spilling into you and dripping out of you at once.

You were already about to come, but it seemed like those words got you to that point. You had heard Tom say so many beautiful things to you, both in the bedroom and outside the bedroom, about you as a person, how much he liked your body, but he hadn't said anything quite like that before. It was something he noted so casually as if he were just making conversation but it drove you into a frenzy that made you practically short circuit. He had spun you into a web of wonders that you had never been in before, and his words were plastered in your mind.

To think that Tom liked to see you in such an unbridled state, hair messy, every bit of your body, every "flaw", nook and cranny visible to him - all your stretch marks, cellulite, fat, discoloration, everything that people took the time out of their day to make hateful comments about. To think that anyone could love all of it regardless of your own self doubts. You felt incredibly appreciated and flattered, as if this was his first time complimenting you. 

He'd never said anything quite like that before, not in that voice, not with that satisfied, in awe look on his face. He was in awe of you, his eyes said that he thought you were an absolute angel. He wanted you to realize you were perfect in every way, that all your growth didn't have to do with your physical form but the even better person you became.

You had both slowed a while ago, and now you were just cockwarming him, your hips sunk down entirely on him. You were still throbbing from your orgasm and you could feel him pulsing inside of you. Tiredly, he murmured,

    "Baby, get up. I wanna see what a mess we made."

Slowly, whimpering all the same, you slid up off his dick and let his cum spill out of you and onto  his abdomen. Your clit was throbbing at the sight and you just wanted to lick him clean, even with how tired you were. And so you did, and he was moaning doggedly and maneuvering your head gently with his hand as you sucked him clean of your taste, and then shared a full lipped kiss with him that lasted for quite some time in the darkness. 

You were still in a disarray but your thoughts were coming together, slowly now. You were entirely naked and you lay there resting for a moment, but Tom stayed up next to you with his arm around you because you murmured how you "still wanted to talk" after you got a nap.

    After a few minutes you woke up, and feeling confident, you didn't feel the need to cover up. You let Tom clean you up with a cloth and put new underwear on, then curled right up into his lap. He had wiped the sweat off his forehead and body and was wearing boxers now, and you sat down on his lap, straddling his abdomen.

    "I love you," Tom said, kissing your forehead. "So much."

    "I love you too, Tommy," you smiled and kissed his lips shortly. "I'm so glad I have you."

    "Me too, darling," he snuggled his nose against yours. He was holding your hands and playing with his fingers when he said. "Babe?"

    "Yeah?" you brought his hand up to your lips and kissed it.

    "You came so hard, like, I've never felt you come that hard before."

    "Really?" you smirked. "You know, it was all you. When you said that... I kind of lost it."

    "Said what?" Tom chuckled. "I've got short term memory after that incredible experience."

    You giggled and bit down on your lip,

    "You said (you impersonated his accent), 'you should see yourself from this angle.' You know, you've never said anything quite like that to me. Sure, you've said a lot of hot things but this was something different. I think I short-circuited."

      "Really? You liked that that much?" Tom asked slyly, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss. "Maybe I should do it more often then," he said, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling down slowly, his voice muffled.

You laughed and pulled away,

    "I'm definitely inviting you to. And hey... thanks. For what you said, just, everything you said. I needed it."

    "No, you don't need me to tell you that you're beautiful. You already know that, sometimes people just get into our heads. But we're not going to let that happen anymore, right?"

    "Hell no. Fuck em."

    "Fuck em," Tom said. He seemed to get an idea as he cocked his head. "In fact..." he grabbed his phone next to him. "I'm going to post a picture of you right now. From this very magnificent angle."

    You giggled,

    "Tom. I'm naked. And it's dark."

    "Yeah but iPhones have got flash for a reason. And you can cover yourself with your arm. Or I can just take a picture of you and not post it. Or nothing at all. It's your body," Tom said, shrugging, but the way he was acting, how badly you could tell he wanted this photo of you at this angle for safe keeping was a turn on and you appreciated the gesture so much.

You laughed,

    "Okay, I'll let you post it. But isn't this a bit scandalous for your Instagram followers? And Marvel?"

    Tom shrugged,

    "If they can hate on you they can see you on top of me, I think."

    You snorted and posed for the picture, just a simple sly smile to the camera with your hands covering your breasts, a picture Tom snapped of you from the waist up.

    "Now that's photography," Tom said, and he uploaded it to Instagram with the caption "my girl ♡" and watched the internet grow in flames in the span of ten minutes.

    You spent the rest of the night cuddling and sleeping in each others arms, and from then on, no amount of hate comments could ever put you down.

[flightsrsk]

hello hello all !!! my name is riley and this is my actual trash son maverick, aka the flight risk !!! i am so so hyped to get the ball rollin on this, so check out info on my kid under ze cut !!

warning: this got rlly mcfreaking long and i am so sorry fjdklsjs i am incapable of writing a short intro post

unfortunately i will not be able to be around for the official opening bc i’m on vacation w my fam and godparents, but i will try and intermittently read intros and chat to you guys about plots !!!! PLS feel free to bombard me through IMs or through discord if any plot sparks ur interest or u think mav could fit well in one of ur plots!!! :’)

THE BASICS

Name: Maverick Hobbes Braxton

Age: Twenty-one

Gender: Cismale

Pronouns: He/Him

Major & year: Philosophy, Third year

Faceclaim: Alex Fitzalan

Occupation: N/A

THE FLIGHT RISK

Maverick Braxton, as you might see, is an enigma—or rather, has evolved into one, slowly: a transformation that begun with his first breath. In his early years, the stage had been set for him, line by line. Act One: attend prep schools, excel in classes. Act Two: attend Covington, take center stage—you know, all of the things his older brother, Richard had accomplished with ease, just one year prior to all of his expectations. It was simple, really: a blueprint laid out ahead of him, with little to nothing in his way.

The only problem was that Maverick didn’t exactly see the point in choosing that path, that stage, that story. To him, it wasn’t challenging.

That, and the fact that the life laid out in front of him offered him absolutely nothing.

A series of banal expectations, unfair comparisons, and heartbreaking betrayals, and the traditional life of the Braxton child was thrown out the window—at least, in his brain, it was. See, Maverick Braxton, while independent, coy, and arrogant, isn’t stupid. He knows if he pleases his parents just enough, they’ll still distribute his trust fund and still bail him out of legal trouble when he inevitably tiptoes too far down the delicate line between ambition and rebellion. Perhaps it’s a bit selfish, but what does he owe to a family who paid him no attention, who never asked of his well-being, his own ambitions, his personal dreams?

He’s the kind of person to drive down the highway, windows rolled all the way down, cigarette lit—not because he necessarily likes the taste of nicotine, but because he likes the way the smoke creates clouds that obscure reality. He’ll surprise you in class when he interjects with a sarcastic but surprisingly salient point before throwing up his hood and retreating to the back corner for the rest of class. He’s the kind of person to start reading a book, flipping incessantly through the pages, both impatient by the pace of the plot, yet put it down before he reaches the final pages because he doesn’t want to be disappointed by the ending. He’s the kind of artist who rarely finishes a sketch, the writer who is never satisfied by a poem—for fear, of course, by deep-rooted insecurities that nothing that he will ever do will be enough.

A once-broken heart had taken time to mend, even though it seems ice-cold and whole from the outside. It’s why he has commitment issues: he doesn’t want to be burned again. He plays off his flirtatious bit as a personality trait, someone who is bored by the prospect of being tied down—and yet those who share his bed might consider him Covington’s most surprisingly deep pillow-talker.

An enigma, you see—one who doesn’t stick around long enough for anyone to truly understand, truly a Flight Risk.

BIOGRAPHY:

( You can read his full biography here! Still in the process of editing it a bit, but below are some important bullet points! )

Maverick was born the second of three children to the Braxton family—and as per usual with the Braxton children, he was born into a life filled to the absolute brim of expectation.

His father, a playwright, his mother, an actress. His brother, a theatre prodigy—what part did that leave him to play? The assumed expectations were to follow in his mother and brothers’ footsteps and take center stage; he excelled, for a while, but Maverick always felt lost.

Neighbors and family friends would always ask if he had measured up, in each and every shape and form: it was like the entire universe had a scoreboard with their names titling each section, and Maverick was always playing catch-up, never knowing where the finish line was.

For a while, he stuck to the script that was given to him: study, succeed, repeat. He tried to understand the ins and outs of his father’s work, of masterful acting techniques, trying to make a large enough splash to where his family would even notice the work he put into his life. Surprise: it didn’t.

It took him seventeen years to truly understand that his role in life was not exactly the story his parents had laid out for him, but rather, his sibling, instead.

Downcast emotions transformed quickly into cynicism. What used to make him feel sad now fueled a blue fire within Maverick’s chest, one that felt wronged by the system he was placed in: a complete first-world problem, but it was then and there when he decided to take advantage of his situation, given that he had spent his entire life dedicated to a part he wouldn’t play.

Hypocritical as he was, he still enjoyed the fruits of his parents’ work, cashing the unlimited checks with his name on them, as if it was some sort of sick version of love.

One piece of recognition that Maverick finally earned was an acceptance to Covington—and even that couldn’t be tainted by his brother’s success or his legacy status.

At Covington, Maverick has both lost and found his footing, multiple times. He’s quit acting, quit studying theater, in favor of a topic that stimulates his brain more than reading lines and

PERSONALITY:

Maverick Braxton is certainly a paradox. He’s charismatic, funny, and has a witty sense of humor –– and is generally appreciated by his peers because he’s able to move conversation and discussion without making topics seem dry.

Despite his apparent inferiority to his sibling, the Braxton family still breeds the cream of the crop. He’s certainly a bit arrogant sometimes, given that he’s intelligent, innovative, and clever, and wants to be recognized for it –– however, even if he might not show it on the outside, he appreciates a good challenger. He thinks it keeps his wit sharp, and of course, his ego would never show it, but he does appreciate learning from people. After all, his passion in philosophy, his current area of study, makes him certainly interested in how the world works.

Those who happen to get to know Maverick outside of the surface-level stuff, outside the initial cockiness and flirtatious front he puts on will know that he’s actually quite thoughtful. His lonely childhood has made him extremely loyal to those who have shown him similar trust and friendship –– he would never turn his back on them.

He asks probing questions, is a good listener –– perhaps because he’s interested in human decision making, but is also because he doesn’t quite know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally –– though he wants to.

Deep down, what almost no one knows is that he’s really quite soft. He passes his curiosity off as wanting to understand people, when really it’s a mechanism for hoping someone asks him questions in return, to give him the time of day he wished his parents ( and the rest of the goddamned universe ) had given him.

Despite his theatre prowess, he isn’t actually a particularly good liar. Those who spend enough time around him can hear his tone of voice incline slightly and see him scratch his brow.

AESTHETICS:

coffee-stained mugs, walking with headphones in but nothing playing, untied shoelaces, black hoodies, a cheeky smirk, small books in his back pocket, writing in the margins, unfinished poems, quoting old authors on a daily basis, incessant eye-rolling, pen ink stains, an unmade bed, mismatched socks, floral ties, empty bottles of liquor, rose thorn pricks, old worn poetry books, polished dress shoes, calloused fingers, unlit cigarettes between teeth.

HEADCANONS:

Funnily enough, Maverick’s name means ‘independent, a noncomformist’, which is exactly the path that he has taken to stray away from his family’s expectations.

He does have one strong connection to his family, though: his grandmother, on his father’s side. She understands the pressure he undergoes, who saw the pressure Maverick’s father endured to obtain the success he has. She is one of the only reasons that Maverick has not just jetted off to take on his own adventure. He loves her dearly, and wishes that her empathy and wisdom would rub off on the rest of his family.

Maverick has some form of synesthesia, which allows him to remember a lot more than the average person. He associates colors, smells, sounds, to words –– and allows him to efficiently study any subjects he doesn’t have immediate passion for.

In the privacy of his own bedroom, he sometimes writes poetry and sketches his thoughts and muses –– when he knows he’s in complete privacy. Faces and features that appear in his sketchbooks are often those he’s thinking of often, those who intrigue him. He’s actually quite good a sketching, maybe not quite as good at writing poetry.

His room is spotless –– evidence that he is a bit of a control freak sometimes. It shows that during his adolescence, he reveled in the parts of his life that he could control and perfect.

tw drugs. He more than dabbles in drug use, smoking marijuana maybe every other day, while partaking in harder drugs like cocaine and adderall and others probably once a week. He feels like he’s in control of his use, but it may start to get the best of him. end tw.

Maverick is left-handed. He hates that he gets pen ink stains when he draws, writes poetry, takes notes. His left palm is probably perennially covered with ink.

Though he’s often wearing headphones ( airpods, of course, the nerve of this rich kid ), half the time, nothing’s playing. Sometimes he forgets to press play on his phone, sometimes he purposely likes listening to decision-making and conversations of strangers. it lets him think about the nature of mankind.

Maverick’s favorite philosopher is Albert Camus, known for his work that heavily developed the idea of absurdism ( much to do with the meaning of life, and human inability to discern an answer ).

Maverick’s preferred method of transportation is his skateboard. he loved it first because his parents hated it: pushing himself around on a board like that would get him injured—besides, why not just take the car to school, the driver had been paid for anyway? It was his first taste of rebellion. Now at Covington, where skateboarding is far more efficient than walking across campus, it comes in handy when he sees someone he’d rather not stop and chat to.

Maverick could die with a poetry book nestled on his chest—it’s the one thing he got out of the impressive book collection his family owned. There was something daunting and beautiful about the way poems would transform metaphors into something fantastical, like the emotions were clearly there, but the words were skirting the issue. Kind of like how his parents would never really tell him they loved him.

Maverick often has headphones in when he walks to class. not particularly because he’s actually listening to music or a podcast, but rather because he’d just … rather not be bothered to stop and talk to people.

Maverick loves to draw. He’s mostly self-taught, with a bit of mentorship from his high school art teacher. Evidenced by the rest of his fleeting personality, he rarely finishes a sketch or painting. He claims he never has time to finish them, but the number of crumbled-up, half-finished sketches in his trash bin might say otherwise.

PLOTS

** see my wanted plots tag here too! // and my plots page here !!

* FIRST LOVE / OPEN.

It wouldn’t be easy to make Maverick feel like even more of a disappointment than he already had with his parents, his family—but your muse proved this feeling wrong. He loved them, more than he’d ever loved anything before. In the midst of confusion about where he belonged, he felt safe with your muse; he’d do anything for them. Things ended, he felt betrayed ( though the break-up could have easily been due to a fault of his ), and the split made him the one who now struggles fully with commitment. He doesn’t want to have his heart broken again. See: this entire pinterest board.

but also if u give me this ……………… i’ll name my firstborn after u

* BEST FRIEND / OPEN.

Those who go through similar childhood traumas are often able to understand each other –– that was how it worked with Maverick and your muse, at least. They’re thick as thieves — and have likely seen the ups and downs of Maverick’s life in real time.

* CHILDHOOD FRIENDS / OPEN.

Self explanatory—and also probably knows about the pressures the Braxton family imposes on their children.

* EX-FRIENDS / OPEN.

Friends who were close, close no longer. Maverick’s a real piece of work, and an asshole, too—there are myriad possibilities for why Maverick could have pushed them away. He wouldn’t openly admit that he misses being around your muse, but he certainly would feel a bit of guilt given that they’re no longer the closest of friends.

* MOMENT OF WEAKNESS / OPEN.

Your muse, in whatever unfortunate setting, saw a glimpse of Maverick’s soft side that hardly ever makes an appearance. He’s not going to let them tell the world about his vulnerabilities, though. Not a chance.

* DISLIKED / OPEN.

Maverick is sarcastic, cold, and sometimes emotionless. It’s not surprising that not everyone gets along with the middle Braxton. The possibilities are endless—throw in some sexual tension and I’d actually fall at ur feet.

* PREVIOUS ROOMMATES / OPEN.

Your muse, at one point, probably knew Maverick better than everyone else at Covington. They overheard some of his phone calls with his parents, saw his notes for how he was to achieve his life goals, heard him crying in the middle of the night when he thought your muse was asleep. They could be extremely close now, as in one of the few people Maverick opens up to, or could be distant friends who know about one anothers’ struggles. The possibilities are endless, tbh.

+ ANYTHING LEGITIMATELY ……… IF U THINK THERE’S POSSIBILITY FOR SOMETHING COOL W MAV AND UR MUSE. SIGN ME THE F UP. THANKS.

[plutonicn]

it’s nine ur second favorite sagittarius & i’m finally writing this.. my mind. here is a hopefully coherent intro to my two muses, who i lazily made polar opposites bc my skills can’t compete !! 

tw: death, drugs, illness, alcoholism, violence, uh idk aajdkf i’m so sorry if i missed something !! make a callout post and @ me in it if i did !! i’m dumb !!

JAEHWAN SIN (CAPTAIN HOOK), 23, JOLLY ROGERS

history

so jaehwan was born in daejeon, sk (uh so ..is this a krp or??). he and his parents and siblings moved to england when he was about four or so and he was a pretty average kid??? i mean he’s a scorpio so as normal as a scorpio CAN be. 

when he was twelve he unfortunately lost mom to illness, and later on his dad turned to alcohol and just kinda... skipped out and jaehwan honestly doesn’t know whether or not he’s still alive adfjksldf YIKES

they went to live with their aunt and uncle but it wasn’t rainbows and sunshine from there on out, they were strict and basically it was just about making sure they had a roof over their heads and that they were fed.

jaehwan had different ideas as he wanted to always make sure his siblings were taken care of which is what ultimately led him in to his current lifestyle. he was quick and clever and could get away with a lot so once he got into the bad stuff.. he got really good at it akdjfd

he basically finessed his way up the ranks as it’s really easy for him to outsmart people and learn what makes them tick !!

i basically ripped off the entire character of the main peaky blinders guy come and sue me netflix !!

personality

so i kinda alluded to him being smart but he really is intelligent !! (rip to me having to write a smart character when i’m a dumbass). had he used his powers for good and not evil he could’ve accomplished a lot ?? oh well get that bread jaehwan. very resourceful, always wants to be one step ahead and can’t stand it if he isn’t

stoic.. is like the perfect adjective for him.. he’s very calm on the surface and seems like nothing ever gets to him and that’s the way he wants it

ruthless bitch !! but still has a moral code that he follows very strictly ???

mostly pretty quiet and keeps to himself. no one ever truly has the full picture with him and that’s def how he prefers it

does not like to b disrespected !! he has a respect kink 

doesn’t do anything halfheartedly he’s all or nothing all the time ajsdlj

doesn’t dwell on things at all he likes 2 keep it pushin

sees everything he does as simply a job & a necessity and nothing more than that.

will do whatever he needs to do even if he doesn’t sleep bc of it aajdfs

JISOO ISIDORE MOON (NEPTUNE), 24, MERMAIDS

history

jisoo was born in london, england.

he was basically born into foster care. his mom was sixteen when she had him and her parents were not ok with that even tho they were wealthy and could easily care for them both. she couldn’t really support herself and a kid (u know how much them little crying hoes COST) so she.............left him on the doorstep of a church

how ironic considering he’s a Big Phat Sin in these streets

growing up jisoo was (and still is) obsessed with the life of luxury. his goal in life was to always reach a certain level of affluence and that’s it.

joining the mermaids seemed to be the only route that made sense to him ig, bc he felt he could best achieve his dreams that way 

personality

he comes across as a very handsome, charming gentleman on the surface

fake deep

drama queen

lives in lalaland. he just wants everything to be beautiful and perfect all the time, he lives in a fantasy world

not necessarily image obsessed but wants everyone to think his life is perfect bc it helps him to believe that life is perfect

he’s the only one that can have feelings bc if anyone else expresses them there’s an emergency suddenly and he’s gotta go

Abandonment Issues

loves the arts, big boujee hoe

self-absorbed and knows it, but wants other people to always think very highly of him so he does well to hide it

‘thank you for your advice, but i’m not going to take it’

BIG scaredy cat, doesn’t like violence, wants 2 stay inside the lagoon and drink and b fancy

a swindling hoe who will snatch ur watch & ur wallet

also just a regular hoe too :/

[howlingmoonrise]

Dear Yuletide Author

Hi! Thanks for signing up for Yuletide despite the hell year it’s been, I hope you have fun with your assignment!

I ramble a lot so everything is below the cut. Obviously you don’t have to follow any of this (though I hope you’ll respect my squicks) but hopefully this will help you out!

general things i like

so much pining. all the pining. pining everywhere plz.

continuing from above, PINING. i mean it. i prefer a thousand times over idiots in love who are having a hard time wrapping their minds around it than an already established relationship.

either gen or romantic is fine! what really does it for me is the development of the relationship, platonic or otherwise. it’s all about the growing intimacy and understanding and character dynamics and interactions and developing trust and finding kinship and growing respect for the other and subconsciously learning to lean on the other over anyone else and--

i love love love enemies-to-reluctant-allies-(to-maybe-friends?)-to-lovers and bickering pairs in general! it’s so much fun and it gives us so many opportunities for character and relationship developments okay i’m a slut for that shit

sticking to the original characterizations and the tone of canon is a definite plus!!!

“missing scenes” and “what if” canon-divergent situations are excellent, as are continuations from where canon left us depending on the fandom! more details on the sections for the respective fandoms i GUESS

casual intimacy is super fun, especially when adapted to the character dynamics. a bickering pair being casually comfortable adds a whole new depth to it, enemy dynamics makes is hilarious since the other half would have zero clue as to how to react, a pair that is already comfortable with each other that they do stuff without communicating is so intimate, mix and match however you like!

fun tropes i enjoy (a bit romance-leaning but if you’re not into that then some of these can probably be adapted): fake dating, accidentally got roped into x and shenanigans of all sorts keep happening, misunderstood confessions, groundhog day au, one or both the characters having stupid levels of denial while technically in a relationship and just not realizing it like What Do You Mean We’re Dating??, that sorta thing.

TROPE SUBVERSION ALL THE WAY!

--

general things i dislike

kidfics. babyfics. next gen fics. pregnancy fics, or even pregnancy discussed in the fic is a major squick of mine. the one exception i make for kidfics is for kids already existent in canon and even then it depends, but no babies or children otherwise please.

future fics/time skips in general, actually. what i enjoy is the relationship development, so huge time skips make me feel like we missed way too much

angst is... mrrmf. it really depends on how it’s done, but usually it feels like it’s angst for the sake of angst instead of giving the fic some actual meat.  as a result of this, i’d pass at least on most content with major character death, sexual abuse, self-harm, gender/sexuality angst, the like. beyond that, feel free to go ahead!

hard AUs are a bit ugh to me. by this i mean AUs that rely heavily on setting, such as high school AUs, harry potter AUs, that sort of thing. i DO however enjoy stuff like soulmate AUs and alternate canon AUs, depending on the concept and on the fandom. more details in their own sections if you enjoy writing those!

i heavily dislike things involving cheating/infidelity, sickfics, and genderbending of any kind is a bit ehhhh for me, as are concepts such as ABO. hard pass on stuff like dysphoria and deep diving into mental illnesses and disorders, too.

script-based or roleplay fic is not really my preferred format, i really enjoy prose instead of nearly all dialogue!

stuff with bigotry in general, racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc as well as discussions of it is a pass in general. it’s not a HUGE squick but i’d rather not see it if possible

discussions and thoughts on gender/sexuality. if you’re gonna make them gay/bi/etc, make them gay/bi/etc, no exploration of it added. delving into the psyche of it is a hard pass.

--

if you’re going for nsfw

kinks

moderate sadomasochism, uncommon forms of bondage (plants, stuck with strange substance or in awkward position, the shadows from p&tf as restraints, etc), choking/breathplay, xenophilia and tentacles/alien genitals (shadowplay in p&tf for example), moderate degradation, edging/desperation play, ladies topping and calling the shots, bloodplay/knifeplay, long hair dragging over skin, sharp nails/claws (charlotte la bouff, morticia), lowkey cannibalism imagery and hunger, biting, ladies stepping on body parts with their heels on

squicks

scat, vomit, praise kink, daddy/mommy or baby kink, vore, forced feminization, pet play, wound-fucking, abuse, abo, anything involving pregnancy at all

--

PRINCESS AND THE FROG

i am 100% aware this is a weird-ass pairing but gods, the possibilities. it has so much potential. there are few things i like quite as much as a villain and a good person developing a strange sort of kinship with each other >u> this doesn’t have to mean a romantic development, if it’s not your thing! as i said, for me it’s the building understanding and reluctant respect that i really love, far more than the actual romance.

ideas, ideas, ideas. i’m aware this is a rare relationship to either portray or ask for, so i’m gonna try to give some more concrete-ish ones for you to build up on if you have no clue as to how to approach this. 

we could have canonverse with charlotte dealing with the shadowman in some other, unrelated matter while the main plot is occurring, making him feel somewhat guilty about the whole marriage plot with laurence-turned-naveen. cue introspection, or even an entirely different outcome.

or a post-canon sort of hades&persephone plot (please no actual hades and persephone au though), with charlotte curious despite herself and tempted to listen to a shadow/dead/whatever!dr facilier when she’s the only one that can hear him.

in a continuation from above, OR her being dragged Beneath with him in a freak accident and then charming him into helping her back to the surface/living world (very, veeeeery reluctantly on his part, at least at the start, he might have even be thinking of tricking her but then change his mind when the time comes to do it).

i think dr facilier wouldn’t be sure how to deal with charlotte’s particular brand of personality and good humour, and it’d throw him off his rhythm a lot - that sort of thing is always super fun to write.

soulmate au in canon would work pretty well, but with this pairing? you could even do a FULL AU, keeping only basic stuff like the shadowman thing to her normal bougie self; it’s one of her charms. (and their personalities, of course). stuff like charlotte thinking that she wants one thing (her prince-slash-one-true-love, etc) while keeping getting drawn to him time and time again could work on pretty much any era or setting. vice-versa for him, thinking he wants to be rid of her but coming to realize he’d actually miss her if she were to be gone. OR, charlotte deciding she wants this sullen manipulative bastard and manipulating HIM into taking her out and hanging out with her would be hilarious.

if you wanna do nsfw, i have only one major request: charlotte calling the shots/topping. i think this arrangement would be in character for both of them (dr facilier would prob also enjoy having someone else do all the work lol) considering her go-getter attitude, but keeping in mind his manipulative personality i’d be more comfortable if she had some control over what was happening. ASIDE FROM THAT, d’you know what would be fun? a little darkness, and by that i mean consider dr facilier’s shadow joining in on the fun. shadows would also be an interesting sort of constraint. also i know i said charlotte calling the shots, but she can be constrained by the shadows while being amused by it or being used to it (implying it’s not the first time that they’ve used it in bed play and that it’s therefore negotiated), or charlotte could team up with the shadow to do it to facilier instead. charlotte using her nails and facilier being a bit of a sub/masochist would be excellent!

(actually in general it’d be really fun if there was some complicity between charlotte and facilier’s shadow in general, nsfw or otherwise. the shadow being wrapped around her little finger is an excellent concept, especially if facilier isn’t too fond of her just yet OwO)

--

THE ADDAMS FAMILY

oh boy. let me just begin by saying that this really isn’t my usual kind of pairing, by sheer virtue of them being perfectly happy and established in canon. HOWEVER, they’re goth and they’re odd and they’re kinky and they’re delightful to watch interact (i’m familiar with the movie canon featuring anjelica and raúl and a few (few!) of the comics, so idk about other dynamics) and so they’ve managed to creep their way into my blackened little heart.

THAT BEING SAID, my absolute biggest wish for this fandom would be pre-relationship. i don’t mind if canon is twisted a bit for this, considering that they presumably met and proposed on the very same day, so it’s definitely a bit hard to work with. perhaps some shenanigans with the funeral itself? or gomez has a date/fiancée already and so there’s some juggling of priorities here while he’s absolutely falling over himself in order to continue looking at that gothic vision of a woman? or an old family feud, or them just being downright useless at knowing how to deal with proper romance (on morticia’s side, i’d imagine she’d only grow more stoic and be at a loss of what to say. on gomez’s side, it’s probably his first time being speechless, or he’s not speechless but he’s flirted so much in his life that he doesn’t know what to do with these actual literal feelings, what the hell is this and how does he show he actually means it this time??), or morticia has a long string of dead fiancés black widow-style (i think she and debbie would have gotten along great if given the chance okay), or a soulmate au where they don’t realize it’s each other right away, or morticia amusedly pretends to be dating gomez before they know each other to get him out of a bind, or they’re somehow roped into someone else’s shenanigans and don’t know how to react to each other (my money is on either ophelia or cousin itt putting them in a bind), the sky is the limit!

if you’re more comfortable writing established, however, casual intimacy or smut are the best! give me a moment of respite where they are just comfortable basking in each other’s presence, or when they’re separated for a moment at an event or something and the longing is burning all the way across them until they come back together again (y’know, in the good old way of the script). for smut, morticia being a mostly stoic dom maybe? (though yes, i know she’s very much into being tied up and tortured, i can’t really see her as a normal sub unless it’s really something languid and drawn-out - she doesn’t really read as someone who spends a lot of energy doing things others will do for her). they’re both definitely into pain and bondage too; morticia conflating arousal with hunger would also be really interesting to see (think praying mantis or lady spider who is actually very invested on not taking off her partner’s head, but who dreams of it all the same. gomez is, of course, very much into it). something lowkey macabre would be amazing.

things i’d like to see for this fandom in general are:

morticia being her stoic vampiric goddess of a self

gomez being completely twitterpatted for her as usual

burning sultry glares/staring across the room

overly passionate hand-kissing

creepy/gothic atmosphere

you know, like canon. (with non-existent or minimal kid existence, though)

references to horror stuff/general creepiness like sudden lightning, casual poisonings and dealings with death, dracula references, etc, like the movies would be super fun, as campy as possible! half the greatness of the movies come from these imho

--

MONSTROUS REGIMENT

i have a confession to make: it’s been a while since i last read it, and so i fear i won’t be as helpful in giving ideas/dynamics for this fandom as i was in the others. 

i have one request - apart from what i’ve already rambled on about above - and that is for at least polly to be portrayed as female (or close enough, although not quite non-binary). to make it clearer: i usually see them both as female, even if not female-presenting (it’s funny because as i was writing this i actually kept writing about maladict as “he” so frankly it’s whatever, i definitely prefer “maladict” to “maladicta” at least in terms of names though) but chaffing to fit the roles that “female” comes along with, especially with maladict and the expectations for female vampires. i’d rather the fic not have gender or sexuality exploration, since like i said above i think it detracts from the meat of the stuff - if you want to see maladict as male, write him male with male pronouns (keeping the female vampire backstory if you’re keeping it canon, otherwise it wouldn’t really make sense). if you want to make her female, write her female with female pronouns. i’d pass on they/them pronouns though. i don’t particularly care either way outside of polly however, just don’t delve into the psyche/introspection of it please.

if you have different views on their genders and it would make you uncomfortable to write female polly or non-they/them maladict, then that’s fine with me as well! these are just my preferences, and i thought i’d elaborate on them since the fandom has many perspectives on this topic. 

with that out of the way, on to more interesting stuff!

what’s good: their interactions. oh dear loki, their interactions. they have my favourite dynamic in the whole book, and they’re weirdly comfortable with each other (especially since polly lowkey threatens maladict after kicking the other dude in the nads, in my view that moment probably got his undead little heart skipping a beat (do vampires have beating hearts on discworld? i haven’t read enough discworld to remember this)) and they understand each other the best out of the rest of the squad. maladict teasing polly and pretending to be cool before polly catches on to him is absolutely hilarious, and i absolutely love maladict trying (and failing!! horribly!!) at being smooth. also polly blackmailing people left and right is absolutely fantastic.

as you can probably guess, i’d love some canon-verse interactions. perhaps alternate scenes or what-ifs of canon events, or even extra scenes during the ongoing plot of the book. OR, post-book, once they have their own squad of little lads and have to figure out how the hell to handle that, or shenanigans where they have some sort of mission or official event elsewhere and resolutely stick together because “if i have to deal with this then so do you”. or some hilarity with maladict desperately going after every coffee grain available so he doesn’t just bury his face on polly’s neck because she smells so good but that would be an awkward conversation to have and he’d rather die (again) than admit to that. 

what else? AUs! feel free to completely tear apart the canon discworld, though i’d request polly remain her ass-kicking clever self and maladict an awkward vampire. maybe maladict has to deal with diaphanous underwired nightgowns. maybe polly has to deal with diaphanous underwired nightgowns. vampire politics? satirical awkward dracula au? maladict failing horribly at being a vampire (failing at being a female vampire or trying to pass at being a male vampire and failing at that, too)? they’re all great! 

what matters to me is their banter and the way they keep falling into pace with each other, regardless of the way they begin. a good dose of sardonical pratchett-style humour would also be welcome ;)

--

thank you so much for staying with me this far! i hope you have a grand time this yuletide, and that you enjoy your own requested fic as well!

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 17/10/2020 (Headie One, D-Block Europe)

You know, I kind of expected a bigger impact from D-Block Europe given that this is their debut studio album. I guess maybe people are as sick of these guys as I am; the mixtapes they released got tracks higher on the chart than this, and that was without some of the big name features they had. Regardless, we still have nine songs to cover here, so... this week’s #1 is still “Mood” by 24kGoldn and iann dior, and welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

Last week had two album bombs – or at least whatever you can call “album bombs” on a chart that tries its hardest to stop those from happening – so naturally there are quite a few drop-outs and returning entries from the UK Top 75. Two of each from 21 Savage with Metro Boomin and Bryson Tiller are gone from last week, with the only songs from both albums still on the chart being the ones with a “(feat. Drake)” in the title. Typical. None of the BLACKPINK songs from last week have stayed either. Other than those six, we also have a handful of notable drop-outs like “What’s Love Got to Do with It” by Kygo and Tina Turner, “Hallucinate” by Dua Lipa and “POPSTAR” by DJ Khaled and Drake, which probably just felt the impact of dumb UK chart rules about streaming. All of these are pretty decent songs – the first two could have peaked a lot higher – so what in the returning entries is coming to replace them? Well, we have “Wishing Well” by the late Juice WRLD back at #74 and a theme of long-running hip-hop tracks like “Dinner Guest” by AJ Tracey and MoStack back at #72 and “I Dunno” by Dutchavelli featuring Tion Wayne and Stormzy at #68, all of which peaked in the top 20. The biggest gain this week was for Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” which is in the top 40 this week and predicted to be even higher in the weeks to come, especially in the US. We usually send 40-year-old songs to #1 but the States seem to have caught up with that too. The biggest fall this week was for the debut last week, “Outta Time” by Bryson Tiller featuring Drake, plummeting from #24 to #58, which is understandable; I mean the only reason it got that high in the first place was because of Drake. Now, onto the new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#63 – “BLM” – OFB (Bandokay and Double Lz) featuring Abra Cadabra

Produced by N2theA

Like many people, fans and artists alike, due to the recent events in America and across the world, I’ve gained a renewed interest in protest music, particularly songs about systematic racism and police brutality. Many artists, including some of the biggest out right now like Lil Baby, have made songs about this recently but really this is not an isolated incident or chain of events. Rappers, musicians and activists have discussed these issues for years and the fact that the general public is finally latching onto some of it makes me hopeful. Seriously though, if you’re looking for a great song from a couple years back protesting against the same topic, “Don’t Don’t Do It!” by N.E.R.D. featuring Kendrick Lamar is right there. OFB is a drill collective from Tottenham, and the group actually contains some genuinely massive names, like Headie One and RV, but here, we just have Bandokay and Double Lz, as well as affiliate Abra Cadabra on the chorus. There’s also a sample of Coldplay here, which actually works as a melancholy piano component of this drill beat, even if it feels like a bizarre choice at first glance. I don’t really need to talk to you about the beat, right? In a song like this, content is what matters and, yeah, it makes a pretty solid case for itself sticking up to inhumane police officers, even if some of the lyrics do feel oddly surface level at times, particularly Abra Cadabra and Double Lz, even though he does have personal anecdotes to tell, but not as much as Bandokay on the first verse where he does get pretty damn in-depth.

There’s no evidence on S but 21 years got slapped to his chest / Yo, I just want P like Diddy, police on my back ‘cah I look like Pops

Bandokay is the son of the late Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old Black man who was unlawfully shot and killed by police in Tottenham in 2011, sparking protests and riots across Britain. This feels particularly profound but also unnerving from Bandokay because he sees himself as next in line for this treatment, talking about how it still haunts him and when he finds out about a friend of his getting life in prison, he’s stressed because he feels like it could very well be him locked up in there for reasons equally unjustified or clearly at the fault of minority disenfranchisement, particularly for young Black men who are driven to the streets because of it. Both Bandokay and Abra Cadabra discuss how gang culture is seen as an excuse for police officers to shoot, with the chorus digging into how because of the violence depicted in Black art due to segregation and societal issues still present in the modern world, that gives them the justification for assault and murder of innocent Black lives. Double Lz goes a bit off-topic here but I can’t say that recall of a phone conversation he had with his friend in jail doesn’t hit hard given the context, especially in a time where we feel more distant than ever with fellow humans. I don’t think it’s as good as “The Bigger Picture” but these guys definitely get my respect for this. Check it out.

#55 – “Proud” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Mind the Gap

And now for almost the exact opposite of social commentary, serious topics and melancholy production: D-Block Europe, although this isn’t actually D-Block Europe, it’s half of the band. Young Adz has three solo songs on this stupidly long album and Dirtbike LB has two, one of which has a feature so I’m pretty sure we all know who’s the Swae Lee in this British Rae Sremmurd... especially since Young Adz’s solo song debuted this high. The song is actually quite different from their standard fare at least in terms of lyrical content, with Adz going into the gang culture and its effect on his mental health, particularly his relationship and drug addiction. His off-beat nasal crooning here is actually kind of charming under these levels of Auto-Tune and a fast-paced trap beat that actually works a lot once it kicks in a minute and a half in. The second verse, particularly, is pretty excellent, where he dedicates the verse to his daughter, who he hopes will not follow in his footsteps of “lifestyles” but also promises her wealth and a continued faith in Islam. The way he talks about how he wants his daughter to succeed even if he dies and later on his companionship with Dirtbike LB is... kind of beautiful, honestly, and does make me look past the mixing issues and... interesting delivery from Young Adz. The uncredited whispery vocals from RAYE on the outro definitely add to the feel of the track and, yeah, I like this quite a lot more than I expected but it still doesn’t make me want to check out that album.

#53 – “I Miss U” – Jax Jones and Au/Ra

Produced by Jax Jones, Mark Ralph, Cass Lowe, Alex Tepper and Tom Demac

Hey, remember Au/Ra? Well, I didn’t either until I checked her Spotify page and saw she was behind that “Panic Room” song that I loved from last year, specifically the remix from CamelPhat – seriously, I’d like to see more on the charts from those guys too. I’m not sure Jax Jones will be able to live up to the brilliantly-constructed ominous future house of that song, but this is supposed to be a silly love or break-up song so I expect a cute, vaguely tropical radio-friendly dance-pop tune with some 90s deep house influence thrown in there, like most of Jax’s stuff ends up being. Anyone else kind of sick of this stuff? I know it gets plays in the clubs which are still in the UK and much of Europe, using this type of dance music, but this robotic draining of the emotion from generic break-up tunes sang by indie-adjacent women over a four-on-the-floor beat is something I’ve heard hundreds of times before. I know this has been a British staple for decades but the new-ish style of vocal drops and generally tired production is growing pretty stale for me at least. It can work when it does, and Au/Ra isn’t a bad fit for this slick, beeping production – this is a pretty okay song all things considered – but there’s not any warmth or quality in this type of stuff anymore, let alone variation. This song is fine but I do hope it kind of underperforms for Jax just to set a precedent that this is exhausting and honestly kind of a cheap ploy for plays at this point. Is that too harsh? Probably, but after two and a half years of seeing these types of songs every other week, it gets on your nerves.

#49 – “Not a Pop Song” – Little Mix

Produced by Robin Oliver Fred, Tayla Parx and MNEK, peaked at #37 in Ireland

Does that mean I don’t have to review it? I want to like this girl group, especially after they ditched the manufactured pop image from Syco and signed to another label that I assume does not treat him as horrifically, but I feel like the music hasn’t changed or gotten any more interesting at all. In fact, this song serves as kind of a diss track to Simon Cowell, and not in any way a subtle one at that. “I don’t do what Simon says”? I mean, don’t you guys also have a talent show you executive-produced, and is airing currently on the BBC? Sigh, well, is the song any good? Well, it tries a little bit more with that guitar loop but not with the clunky trap beat, the harmonised triplet flows in the pre-chorus that sound awkward, and most importantly, the lyrics, which are otherwise fine in how they represent the music industry, a corrupt and unfriendly business, but not in a way that feels like it’s revealing any secrets or anything that really hits. Especially the chorus, where that “I don’t give a what” chant just undermines the whole message. Shouldn’t the point be that now you CAN swear on your songs? I don’t know, this is just worthless but admittedly a lot more listenable than their last record so I’ll give it to them there, even if it is out of a clear effort to be as inoffensive as possible.

#46 – “Flowers” – Chip

Produced by Dready

So, in Chip’s pretty garbage verse on “Waze” earlier this year, he took some shots at an underground artist that many assumed were shots at Stormzy, who commented on this with some subliminals on “I Dunno”. Naturally, in response to this light-hearted beef from two former good friends all based on misinterpretation, Stormzy pulled up to the guy’s house, with only Chip’s brother and sister being home. His sister even felt the need to pull out a kitchen knife to defend herself, so, yeah, I have no sympathy for Stormzy here. Unless this is based on personal drama that we don’t know of, he really unnecessarily escalated this petty dispute. Hence, Chip has two diss tracks here, this is the first of them; the other didn’t chart. To quote Chip’s manager, Ashley Rae, who is also name-dropped in the song: Stormzy pulled up unannounced to Chip’s building with three other people. The building was secure with gates and an intercom system. He didn’t knock. He came in and was posted in the car park screaming for Chip to come outside. After being told to leave twice as Chip wasn’t home, he refused and made his way to Chip’s apartment on the top floor where family were inside and it got heated. He caused a commotion so the neighbours called the police. This diss track seems to share my view of the situation; Chip even briefly brings up the political climate as he talks about how Stormzy should have expected the police to be called – after all, when people in Essex see black men shouting outside a building, regardless of their innocence, the authorities seem to get involved. In this diss track, Chip calls back to other disses he’s made, notes his disappointment in Stormzy collaborating with Ed Sheeran when he’s the one who escalated to potential violence – you’d think he’d be smarter not to risk his image – and sending some personal shots at his break-up with Maya Jama, which actually made me chuckle, particularly when he says that a throwaway track on a collaborative album seems to have incited a bigger reaction than that long-term relationship coming to an end. He goes even deeper into how he thinks Stormzy’s activism is hypocritical if he wants to incite black-on-black violence by pulling up to Chip’s house, and references the late 2Pac and Pop Smoke and... okay, he just ravages Stormzy here, and it helps that this beat is menacing, even if I don’t like Chip’s delivery or voice, as I never have. “Killer MC”, the other diss track, is a lot vaguer and with a pretty chaotic beat which Chip can barely flow on, so yeah, I’m glad this one charted. Man, a lot of aggressive, lyrically-focused songs today, huh?

#34 – “Destiny” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Jony Beats

And just like that, they appear. This is our second and last song from that D-Block Europe album debuting this week, and it’s only high because of a video anyway – that and the fact it’s the first on the album. Otherwise, this is typical D-Block Europe fare, albeit this time with a hilarious but absolutely pointless 30-second acoustic guitar intro that just consists of the guys whispering “Destined” with as much reverb as possible. Dirtbike LB is actually on the hook this time, making it even more lethargic. Young Adz is filling in empty space with ad-libs again, including his signature “SKI!”, and in his first verse here, I genuinely laughed out loud after that booming “bow-bow-bow-bow” vocal interlude coming out of nowhere. It honestly caught me off-guard. I kinda like Young Adz’s pretty energetic flow here though, and he definitely plays with the boring trap beat in a way that is pretty funny. He feels the need to say “Happy G-day” to a person in the booth with him, which shows that he’s freestyling at least some of this stuff, which is kind of impressive. He “endorses” new straps, which is just funny wording to me, as is when he says 9 Goddy “had” Norwich, like he just owned the city – although, as a fellow East Midlander, I kind of appreciate the shout out. My favourite part in the verse is probably his attempt at 2012 hashtag-rap, where he says “half a mil’, mortgage”, but the beat cuts out when he mutters a wimpy “rurr” ad-lib, and that almost forgives his weedy delivery and gross Auto-Tune. I think “Rurr, mortgage” makes up for the chorus, “Break a brick like Tetris”. Honestly, I get why people prefer Adz’s energy and funny content because the only thing to laugh at with Dirtbike LB’s bleak, almost depressing lyrics about materialism, meaningless sex and drug addiction, is how he phrases everything in a manner that is uniquely middle-class and polite, especially in this verse, and how he just seems to be accepting the dark topics he talks about in his verse with a shrug of his shoulders. It’s kind of concerning, I mean, I don’t like the music but I hope he’s okay. In conclusion, the song’s fine and honestly I kind of love the first verse but that chorus is dull and really it’s a pretty poorly-mixed trap cut. To be honest, if there’s more of this energy from Adz on the album, I might just check it out. The guy’s growing on me recently.

#29 – “Cool with Me” – Dutchavelli and M1llionz

Produced by The Fanatix

Apparently this guy is Stefflon Don’s brother, and now that she has been pretty quiet recently, I guess it’s time for Dutchavelli to step into the limelight, and he’s bringing fellow Birmingham rapper M1llions with him for a song with not much of a chorus to speak of. Instead, Dutchavelli and M1llionz trade verses and bars for three minutes over a pretty banging drill beat, with an eerie choral sample throughout and honestly pretty great verses from the two of them here. Dutchavelli sounds really aggressive here and I love the yelling in the ad-libs, even if it adds to some questionable vocal mixing throughout. M1llionz’s casual, meandering flow and cadence works really well in contrast, even if really nothing is said here other than gunplay and flexing. The beat feels like it never properly drops at all, and it just slides out abruptly by the end, but if this is an intro track to an upcoming album with a following track that drops us straight into it, I could see this working. As is, well, I’ve not got much to say about it but this is decent.

Also, I’d like to point out Dutch’s Wikipedia page, particularly the “in popular culture” section.

Dutchavelli has gained a reputation for being a hard man. This paired with his large stature has lead to a proliferation of memes relating to this within popular culture such as 'When Dutchavelli goes to a club, he asks the bouncer for ID'.

God, I love Wikipedia.

#24 – “Parlez-Vouz Anglais” – Headie One featuring Aitch

Produced by Al Hug and Ambezza

Okay, so our last two songs are both from Headie One and his overly long, 20+ track album he released last week, Edna. Do you see a trend with these British rap artists and debut albums? To be fair, I am more interested in this album, and I’ll probably listen to it after writing this. The feature list looks pretty good – I mean, it’s got Drake, Kenny Beats, Skepta and ironically, Young Adz on a song that did NOT chart this week – and I really loved “Both” from last year, so it’s probably worth checking out at least some of the songs. This song, however, was not one of those I was interested in. Man, I’m so angry I come back to this show and get back-to-back weeks with high debuts from rappers featuring this pioneer of gentrified drill music. He’s already made a song romanticising French women and high fashion as well, so it’s not like this is new territory for the guy. Admittedly, I do enjoy this cute, lounge-y elevator music sample but it feels pretty drowned-out by both the bog-standard UK drill beat and awkward flows from both, who are doing a similar thing to Dutchavelli and M1llionz did in the last song we talked about, but with more repetition to fill up time and more trading bars between the two, as well as an actual chorus, which is about as dull as bricks. Both Aitch and Headie have uninteresting flows and use awkward ad-libs to disguise a clear lack of any attempts at good wordplay or content that goes any further than worryingly blatant misogyny from Aitch and constant flexing. It’s not interesting, and it’s not good either.

#11 – “Princess Cuts” – Headie One featuring Young T & Bugsey

Produced by iO and TobyShyBoy

I’m not surprised this was the track that debuted this high. Thanks to TikTok picking up “Don’t Rush”, which is a brilliant song by the way, this group isn’t just big in the UK like most of these rappers, they are genuinely global superstars for the British hip hop scene and I love that. They made Aitch’s debut onto the charts both listenable and promising on “Strike a Pose” (It’s really a feat) and are constantly bringing smooth flows and Bugsey’s really nice voice over good production. They are more than deserving of being how British hip hop is viewed worldwide, even as they got onto the Hot 100 with Headie One earlier this year. I was surprised too. So, yeah, I’m excited to hear this new collaboration between the two artists, and, surprise, surprise, it’s really good. I love the nostalgic early-mid-2000s R&B beat especially with that slick Latin guitar and pounding bass groove. I love Young T singing on the hook over really beautiful vocodered samples and funky keys in the instrumental. I love Headie’s pretty impressive and at times smooth flow in his two verses. I love how Young T & Bugsey share a sing-songy cadence in their verse. Man, I love everything about this song sonically, and content-wise, the lyrics don’t really leave that much to be desired either. Sure, it’s pretty much just towing the line between a hook-up jam and flexing, but there’s enough funny lines and convincing delivery to make this worth checking out. I also love how Headie starts the smooth, sexy hook-up jam with “My young boy got the stick like Moses with the Israelites” in his deep, gruff tone, which is just comedy gold. Headie also takes time to praise the Lord and show his limited knowledge of geography, which is either insensitive to Asians or satirical depending on how you look at it. Either way, it works and it’s funny. This is just an incredible song and I hope it sticks around. Check it out.

Conclusion

There’s actually not much here to complain about, even with D-Block Europe’s two songs here. Little Mix take the Dishonourable Mention for “Not a Pop Song” and Worst of the Week is going to Headie One for “Parlez-Vouz Anglais” featuring Aitch but I might as well balance that out by giving the guy Best of the Week for “Princess Cuts” with Young T & Bugsey. I don’t want Stormzy to pull up to my house next, so I’ll delay on giving Chip the Honourable Mention, but that is instead going to “BLM” by Bandokay, Double Lz and Abra Cadabra for simply being necessary, although I’m scared to admit Young Adz was pretty close here. I don’t know what’ll happen next week – hopefully not that new Kanye song – but here’s the top 10 for Friday’s chart:

You can follow me @cactusinthebank for occasional political Twittage and I’ll see you next week.

[soflashtastic]

i know i said i was probably gonna do something for Halloween but…. i don’t even have an excuse i’m just lazy XD. SO as recompense for that, have a story about mu boi Quiltster (thanks again for the nickname agu<3)!   

word count; 1,424 (heh sorry its long i had a lot of ideas for this) 

Soft violin and piano music played as Gaster peered into the large beaker through a pair of thick safety goggles. The liquid inside was a black so deep it seemed to absorb the light surrounding it and made a muffled crackling sound as it rolled gently of its own accord.  His brow creased as he studied how the last element had affected the substance.  

He sighed, “No change.” The scritching of a pen was heard as his lab assistant took notes.

“Skeets, hand me vial A50 please.”

“Yes sir. Y’know,” The sound of the pen stopped as the cat-like monster finished his notes and moved across the room. “You don’t have to call me ‘Skeets’. You know what my name is.” Gaster chuckled as he turned to face his assistant, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.

“Skeets,” using the nickname caused a sigh to escape his colleague. “How long have you been working under me?”

“I dunno, a year or two maybe?”

“Two years, my boy. When did you become my personal lab assistant?”

“Um… couple weeks ago?”

“About a month. You should know this but it seems you don’t, so I will tell you. I have an affinity for giving the people I work with nicknames. It helps me to remember you. It is also incredibly fun. You should just be glad that your’s sounds like your name.”

Skeet laughed a little at that while he searched for the vial. “Fair enough.”

Gaster turned back to the container and hummed along to the music. Even with all the experiments and projects he had done, this was still unlike anything he had ever seen. It seemed to act on its own sometimes, swaying away from something or someone it didn’t like. There was a day where one of his peers had come in visibly upset. The substance had seemed to sense her displeasure because whenever she passed the beaker it had followed her movements. A strange thing indeed.

“Did you see what happened to the guards that found this stuff?” Skeet asked.

“Yes, quite terrible. Are they still in the hospital?” The sound of Skeet shuffling around grew quiet. Gaster looked over his shoulder at him. His head was down and he was clutching a vial tightly in his gloved hands. “Skeets?”

Skeet’s voice wavered as he spoke “They… They were all found dead this morning.” He sniffed a little and held the vial to eye level, giving it a once over before handing it off. Gaster didn’t take it immediately but looked at Skeet with the eyes of someone who understood all too well the pain his assistant was going through.

“Skeet, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. You have my condolences.” He placed a hand on Skeet’s shoulder. “After we get a few more of these tests done allow me to treat you to some dinner. It’s the least I can do.” Skeet nodded as Gaster took the vial from him. They turned back to the beaker only to find the substance plastered against the wall of the container in Skeets direction.

Skeet cursed under his breath. “Sorry, Doctor. I’ll go get another lab assistant so you can finish this.” He started for the door but Gaster grabbed his elbow.

“Skeet. As a parent it’s my job to look after not only my children, but the other young souls out there who need help. If you need anything, anything at all, you tell me.” he said “Understood?”       

Skeet chuckled and wiped a stray tear off his cheek. “Yes, Sir.”

Gaster nodded and let go of his arm. “Good. Now go take care of yourself. I’ll see you for dinner after I finish these.”

He turned back to the beaker as Skeet silently walked out the door. The substance had settled back into the bottom of the beaker, rolling and making that strange sound.

‘What would happen,’ Gaster thought to himself. ‘If I were to stir this?’  Rolling up sleeves of his lab coat, he reached over grabbing a clear, plastic stirring stick from a rack of clean supplies. He exchanged his old gloves for a clean pair and leaned on his elbow beside the beaker.

Ever so slowly, he tapped the surface of the liquid. It rippled outward slowly and went still. “Hmm….” He removed the stick and it began rolling again. ”Interesting.” He set the stirrer aside, picking up the clipboard Skeet had left behind. He scribbled a few notes on it in the doctor’s-chicken-scratch style.

Holding the clipboard in one arm, he grabbed the stirrer and positioned it above the substance. He slowly penetrated the surface and began stirring. The more he stirred the thicker it seemed to get.

Without his noticing he began thinking of the guards that had been put in the hospital and of Skeet and how worried he was for him. A trickle of sadness entered his mind. Suddenly, the thick sludge lept out of the beaker and latched onto his arm just above his gloves.

The clipboard clattered to the ground as he gasped loudly. The sludge began working its way up his arm ever so slowly. This substance had killed five man just by coming in contact with it and yet, nothing was happening. He didn’t feel any pain at all. How had they died again? He couldn’t quite remember…

A wave of sadness and emotional pain suddenly cascaded over him. He dropped to his hands and knees, taking quick shallow breaths. Tears streamed down his face as he covered his head. Memories of when he had lost his family came rushing back to him with renewed strength. Being forced to watch as his mother and father were executed simply for being monsters. He felt the fear from his days in the war. The death and carnage. The sounds of his remaining family being cut down and slain on his watch. His friends screaming for help as they were carried off by humans.

He didn’t make noise as he cried, he simply wasn’t getting enough air to make any. He was faintly aware of the sludge crawling up his arm, spreading across his shoulders and sinking deep into his bones. It was starving. He could tell now that it needed these negative emotions to live and It had just found a well of misery. It was sucking him dry. But he didn’t care anymore.

He had done so many things wrong. It would probably be better for everyone if he just died. His boy’s would survive. They don’t need a father who couldn’t even protect his own parents. He fell to his side and curled in on himself.

It would be better.

if he just.

died.    

                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~

Alphys’ feet ticked on the stone floor as she was led down the hallway to the royal scientist’s private laboratory. Out of all the people in the labs Skeet, Gaster’s right hand man, had chosen her! She was giddy with excitement but kept it under wraps for her friend.

“I-I’m so sorry about your brother Skeet. H-he was a g-good man.” She said, patting his arm.

“He sure was.” Skeet sniffed. “We used to play together all the time when we were little, and then school started getting harder and then he went into the Royal Guard and I started work here. We still hung out as often as we could but i always wanted to talk to him more.”

Having no siblings of her own, Alphys didn’t quite know how to respond to that so she decided not to. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the lab, each lost in their own thoughts. The activity in the halls became less and less the further down they traveled and tall plants placed here and there brightened up the place a little.

Alphys picked under her claws as she walked “U-uhm… Skeet? How much-”

She was interrupted by the a low moan that came from one of the open doors ahead of them. They stopped in their tracks, Skeet’s ears pricking up at the noise. Alphys grabbed onto his lab coat. “S-S-Skeet…. W-what was that?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, still looking at the open door “but stay close.”

They both slowly approached the sound, Alphys hiding a little behind her friend. They pressed themselves up against the wall next to the door and skeet cautiously peered into the lab.

“Doctor Gaster!” He said, racing into the room. Alphys wasn’t even on claw through the doorway when Skeet turned to her. “Go get help!”

“What’s going on?!” she asked

“Gaster got some of that black goop stuff on him, we don’t know exactly what it does but it has killed monsters, Alphys. Now go get help!”  

“O-okay!” Alphys turned on her heels and ran down the corridor, leaving Skeet to take care of Gaster.

“Oh Doc, what did you do?” He whispered. Gaster was curled in on himself, violet tears tracing the crack under his eye before falling to the ground. Skeet waved his arms over him trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t know if it was safe to try and help but seeing his usually strong mentor so shattered hurt him to the core. It was wrong in every conceivable way.

Working up his courage, he reached down to try and remove the doctor’s lab coat. He gently pulled the arm that was not covered in the goop out of its sleeve and rolled him onto his stomach to try and get the other arm out without touching it too much.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorry,” he said as he pulled out the arm. He tossed that jacket aside like it had some kind of disease and looked down at his friend.

Once Skeet had gotten the coat off, Gaster had rolled back up into his fetal position and started shaking. Skeet still couldn’t see all of the goop due to the Doctor’s purple t-shirt but what he did see startled him. He could tell it was already halfway across his ribcage by how the shirt wiggled and filled out. Some of it had moved on across his shoulders and was now twisting around his right arm making a fascinating jagged spiral.

Now, however, was not the time to be admiring the artistic talent of this disgusting goo, he needed to find out what else he could do while he waited for help.

“Gaster? Gaster, I’m gonna check you stats alright?” Gaster didn’t reply but continued to tremble.

“Right.” Summoning some of his magic Skeet brought out the Doctor’s soul and pulled up his HP bar. He covered his mouth when he saw that like the other infected patients, Gaster’s health bar was steadily going down but it was much much slower than them.

“You’re prolonging his suffering you sick-”

“SKEET!” Alphys came skidding across the doorway bringing a team of the medical staff with her “I-I-I got your h-help!” she huffed. She was breathing heavily and mumbling how she needed to get an exercise plan.

“What happened?” one of the medic’s said as they pushed their way into the small room.

“He got some of that black stuff on him and it’s spreading fast.” Skeet said, pushing Gaster’s soul back into his chest.

“Alright son,” the medic said putting a hand on his shoulder. You’ve done what you can. Let us take over.” Skeet nodded and allowed himself to be gently pushed out the door.

He slumped to the floor next to a still panting Alphys. “I-I’m so sorry. First your brother a-and now-“

“Thank you, Alphys but I just kinda wanna sit here and…… process everything that happened today. Just….” Skeet pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, a few tears falling down his face. “don’t leave me alone, okay?”

Alphys gently rubbed his back in small circles and let him cry.

                                                     ~~~~~~~~

About a month later Skeet and Alphys along with a few other scientists stood in front of a giant tube filled with a bright green liquid. In the tube, with an oxygen mask placed over his mouth, Gaster floated unconscious. His entire body was covered in the sludge from his ankles and wrists all the way up his neck but somehow, someway, the medic’s and team of scientists assigned to keeping him alive had figured out how to do just that.

A small monster worked the control panel of the tube, constantly checking on the Doctor’s stats. “Doctor Skeet,” she said. “Everything appears to be within the normal range, are we ready to pull him out?”

Skeet looked to the team of medic’s next to him. They caught his eye and nodded, a few of them gently fidgeted with the stretched or their tools. “Alright, bring him down.”

Her fingers flew across the controls as the tube started to drain, gently lowering Gaster to the bottom. The glass slid down into the floor and the scientists held their breath as the medical team rushed forward. Right before they reached him one of them turned around with a worried expression, “You’re positive this stuff has been neutralized?” he asked.

Skeet took in a breath and nodded. “That stuff is a part of him now. It can’t hurt anyone anymore than the skin on your back can.” It had been hard to render the goo incapable of harming anyone. He had pulled several all nighters and drank a year’s worth of coffee figuring out. Ideas the worked out in theory had failed and failed again but now, seeing his friend being wheeled out to a hospital room instead of a chamber meant for the dying, he finally felt that everything was going to be okay.  

[ponyregrets]

No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

Kabby social media AU, 3200 words, T

did u know that 1. it is @kane-and-griffin‘s birthday 2. she accidentally went viral for ranting about Friends and 3. once I start thinking about how A Thing (random example: Marcus Kane writing viral Friends tweets) would go down I cannot stop until I just write the thing

anyway happy birthday claire!!

Marcus Kane is, unfortunately, very familiar with the Nice Guy phenomenon.

It's an occupational hazard of writing science fiction, especially in the internet age; all he has to do is look for his most obnoxious fans, and he finds an unfortunately loud contingent of entitled mostly white men who believe that the world owes them women and happiness without any effort on their parts. It's something he tries to combat as much as possible, wherever he can, and he knows it works in some cases. For every reader who's turned against him for being an SJW cuck (whatever that means), he has another who's expressed appreciation for his opening them up to perspectives they hadn't considered and broadened their empathy and understanding.

That's what sci-fi should do, as far as Marcus is concerned. The heart of science fiction is acceptance and unity.

Which is why he tells Bellamy, "I need you to do one of those Twitter threads for me."

"For what?" Bellamy asks, wary. As Marcus's assistant, he seems to think his most important duty is talking Marcus out of interacting with social media. And he may be right.

"Ross Gellar."

It takes him a second. "The guy from Friends?" he finally asks.

"Yes. I want to explain to my followers why he's bad romantic lead and role model."

To his shock, the response is instant. "Okay."

"No arguments? No lecture on how that isn't what Twitter is for?"

"No, fuck Ross," he says. "What do you want to say? I'll make it happen."

Marcus clucks his tongue. "I'll write up a statement."

* Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Last week, while ill, I watched Friends on Netflix for the first time. So, a thread on friendship, romance, Joey Tribiani, and Ross Gellar.

O @o-so-cool reblogged Sometimes my brother's boss is pretty okay.

raven @queenreyesthefirst reblogged brb adding @kanemarcus to non-sucky white dude sci-fi authors and shipping him with @scalzi

Finn Collins @finnishfirst reblogged this is kind of interesting but way too hard on ross. he does a lot of good things! see thread

Bellamy @bradburybell reblogged this is not nearly hard enough on ross

Clarke Griffin @clarkegriffin reblogged Relevant to your interests @ark-abby

*

"So here's what I think happened," says Bellamy. He's brought Marcus a coffee without being prompted, so whatever it is must be bad.

Marcus takes a sip of the drink. "When?"

"With your Twitter rant."

"Ah. I assume there are a lot of protests from the louder, stupider portion of my fanbase about how I've allowed the liberal fake media destroy my mind and masculinity?"

"Yeah, there are some of those. But, uh--it went way past your fanbase."

"Excuse me?"

"This is your most retweeted post ever. Not even close. It's viral. You've got people fighting you, people telling you it's a revelation, and about a thousand new followers already. In the last day."

He frowns. "Is Friends really still that popular?"

"Apparently." He shrugs. "Clarke says you made Buzzfeed and a couple of the other aggregator sites too. She and Raven have been texting me updates. They think it's hilarious."

"What does that mean?"

"Honestly? I don't fucking know. I told you when you hired me I'm not actually good at this stuff. I tried to warn you."

"You did." He takes another sip of coffee. "So, what do you think happened?"

"My sister retweeted it, and she spends about ninety percent of her time thinking about her social media brand, so she's got a ton of followers. Then Raven picked it up from her, her tech friends got a hold of it, and after that--" He shrugs. "You got out of your niche and into broader Twitter, and I'm not going to be able to find anything useful in your notifications for weeks. It's all Ross/Joey shipping discourse. Clarke's words, not mine," he adds.

"Should I be concerned?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out if it actually sells more books. And Clarke thinks we should try to leverage it into more publicity, she's got an idea for that."

Marcus hasn't actually met most of Bellamy's friends, but he references them enough that he knows who they are. Octavia, sister, Raven, ex-girlfriend, Clarke, current girlfriend. He also knows that all of them are more familiar with social media than Bellamy is, so he's not surprised that he consulted them.

Mostly, though, he still can't believe anyone really cares about this.

"An idea to leverage the Friends discourse?"

Bellamy shrugs. "Apparently this fit into an ongoing conversation she's been having with her mother. Abby Griffin? She writes for Ark AV. She did that think-piece about what mainstream science fiction gets wrong about female characters."

"Ah," says Marcus. He remembers the article, which had been harsh but ultimately fair, and an interesting take, once he'd gotten over the initial hurt of being used in a not entirely positive light. "I didn't know that was Clarke's mother."

"Yeah, I figured I'd tell you later. Once I didn't think you were going to call her up and argue with her about how much better you've gotten."

"And now you don't think I will?"

"Honestly, I don't care. I just want to see you guys fight about Friends," he says. "That sounds awesome."

"So, you have no ulterior motives here. Just looking out for my best interests."

"Obviously."

"If she's Clarke's mother, I assume she's local? Or will I be fighting her on a podcast?"

"We were thinking Starbucks on Saturday. Caffeine and lots of witnesses."

Marcus finally lets himself open up Twitter, now that he's had enough coffee. He almost always has some notifications when he looks; he's a public figure with a passionate fanbase, he's used to people trying to talk to him on Twitter. That's why he has a Twitter in the first place. But the number of notifications has never been so high, not in his memory. And, as Bellamy said, it really is a lot of passionate Friends discourse, both for and against his opinions. It's an overwhelming amount of love, hate, and passion. Like discovering an entirely new world.

He thought he understood fandom, but apparently he has a long way to go.

"Starbucks would be fine," he tells Bellamy, a little faintly. "I'd enjoy that."

*

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus A lot of new followers today. Here are a few notes for you:

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus I am a published science fiction author. Those of you telling me to just write a book instead of many tweets, I have written many books.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus You can find the link to purchase them in my header.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus I have never claimed to be an expert on Friends. This was my first time watching, and these are my impressions based on one viewing.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus My opinion on the Friends canon does not invalidate yours. Yours is as valid as it ever was. But if you feel threatened, examine that.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus My ideas may have merit you're reluctant to fully accept because of your own perceptions of how things should be in relationships.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus If you followed me for more Friends content, please be aware this is an outlier. I usually talk about science fiction.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus On that note, would anyone like to discuss the Hugo Awards?

Masper @gogglesdonothing Replying to @kanemarcus ross/rachel is forever tho

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus and @gogglesdonothing I'll take that as a no.

Jonty @themediumgreen Replying to @kanemarcus and @gogglesdonothing I'm so sorry Mr. Kane just ignore him I want to talk about the Hugos tell me all your favorite winners do you like Chuck Tingle

Jonty @themediumgreen Replying to @gogglesdonothing I CAN'T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE

*

Marcus will admit he does not feel broadly prepared to seriously enter the Friends discourse. He is, after all, a neophyte. If there are scholarly works on Friends, he has not read them. If there's any academic discussion of these issues, he is not familiar with it. His knowledge is vague and still forming, but for some people, this show was a huge part of their development. It matters to them on a deep, personal level.

For him, it was a decent use of his time while he was sick and confined to his couch. He had a fever for most of the first season. He's not sure he's prepared to fight anyone about it. Based on his mentions, he has many, many fewer horses in this race than other people. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe his perspective as an outsider is valuable.

Or maybe he just wants the chance to sit down with Abby Griffin. Because instead of spending the past week either working on his next book or even familiarizing himself with Friends and the criticism surrounding it, he's mostly been researching Abby Griffin herself. He'd done it some after the first article Bellamy sent, curious to see her other work, but he'd been busy with a deadline and hadn't really had much time for that, had barely scratched the surface of this woman.

He doesn't have time for it now either, of course, but it's at least relevant to something in his life. And, as Bellamy and his friends have pointed out, this is at least good publicity. It's not a complete waste of time.

The Abby Griffin stalking might be a waste, but he can't help it. She's interesting. The pop-culture writing is, apparently, a side job, something she never intended to get seriously involved in. The website had been her husband's, and when he passed away, Abby and Clarke had taken over its upkeep, and Abby had started producing content when she had time. Given her full-time job is as the director of internal medicine at the hospital, he's frankly amazed she has as much time for content as she does.

And it's good content. She and Clarke have a weekly column where they discuss a movie they went to see together, and the female characters in science fiction piece was apparently part of a series. Her taste is good and her opinions are interesting, and by the time he's meeting her, he has one big question, and one only.

They get through introductions and are settled in at the table before he finally lets it out. "Honestly, I don't understand how you can like Ross."

She lets out a surprised laugh. "Excuse me?"

"Bellamy said he was looking forward to us fighting over Friends, but I have trouble believing you disagree with my opinion of Ross. I don't know what we'd be fighting about."

She smiles into her mug. He'd known she was beautiful from the picture he found on the hospital website, but it's different to see in person, and more awkward. Bellamy and Clarke are hanging out at their own table, pretending not to eavesdrop; it's not an ideal time to be caught staring. "I don't know what he told you, but I didn't disagree. It was an impressive rant. Well reasoned and accurate. I was more interested in discussing why you posted it and the reactions you got. I saw it wasn't popular among some of your readers."

"To say the least."

"One of the things I've been curious about since getting involved in online fandom is what counts as acceptable ways to interact, especially for those of us over thirty or so. I saw a lot of people asking why a heterosexual man in his late forties would care this much about Friends at all. As if that was the problem."

"Judging from the angry responses, plenty of heterosexual men are very invested in Friends. Although I'm not sure how old they are," he grants.

"Age is the biggest issue, in my experience. You'd been participating in an acceptable way, as a creator, but once you show yourself to be invested in Friends shipping--"

"I stepped into the wrong part of fandom."

"That's my thesis, yes."

He considers. "Am I on the record?"

"I'm not a reporter, Marcus," she says, sounding amused. "I'm not trying to trick you into saying something I can use against you. But if you'd like to officially be off the record, we can say that you are."

"My hope with that post was that it would make some of my readers rethink their attitudes towards women and romance. The number of responses I got to Valena's story in Bright Sky Morning that boiled down to her being wrong for not returning Pavel's feelings even though he'd been so devoted to her was--staggering. And depressing."

"Did your female readers appreciate it?"

"They did. Apparently Jin was a much more appealing partner."

Abby smiles. "I certainly thought so."

It's not his first time meeting a fan, of course, and she might not even be a fan, in the sense they're talking about. But she's read his work and has opinions on it, and that's always a little bit flattering. Especially when they align with his. "I'm glad. I was hoping he would be." He clears his throat. "So, you'd like to talk to me as a forty-eight-year-old man who publicly had opinions on shipping."

"And to get your thoughts on Monica and Chandler," she says, all innocence. "If you don't mind."

He can't help smiling himself. "Not at all. I'm all yours."

*

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Expanded my horizons this weekend with the High School Musical trilogy. A curious cultural phenomenon.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus I appreciated that Troy and Gabriela didn't go to the same college, but still stayed in the same general area.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus I still don't think the couple has much of a future, but in an unrealistic movie, I appreciated that nod to practicality.

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus Very disappointed about the last-minute attempt to cement Ryan's heterosexuality. Let children have LGBT role models.

Murphy @firstnameredacted Replying to @kanemarcus If you're seriously going to be talking about Disney movies from now on I'm unfollowing you, I don't give a shit about this

Marcus Kane @kanemarcus Replying to @kanemarcus and @firstnameredacted Please do.

*

"Look," says Bellamy, two months after the first Friends rant, "I'm not going to pretend I'm good with crushes, but it would be a lot easier to just ask Abby if she wants to get dinner off the record instead of coming up with new weird shit to have opinions about on Twitter every week."

"I assume the timing of this isn't a coincidence," Marcus says. He was just getting his coat on to go meet her.

"You've already got a standing coffee date. Turn it into a real date. I'm begging you."

"You don't enjoy my opinions on the High School Musical series?"

"I actually do, I'm just getting tired of blocking people. Also, I don't know if you're aware, but dating is awesome. You should try it."

"I appreciate your concern. You don't think it would be weird for you if your boss was dating your girlfriend's mother?"

"No weirder than whatever's actually happening right now. And don't even try to tell me you're not asking her out because you're worried about how it would affect me."

It does sound absurd, when he puts it like that. "No. That wasn't a major factor."

Bellamy rolls his eyes. "Just ask if she wants to come check out the Descendants franchise with you next weekend. Definitely a solid pickup line. Chicks dig it."

"The what?"

"It's like the spiritual successor to High School Musical. I'll send you a link. You should know this stuff if you're really going in on this."

"I should give you a raise."

"That too. Say hi to Abby for me."

It's not entirely accurate to say that he thinks about what Bellamy said as he walks over to his weekly meeting with Abby. Every time he walks to her favorite coffee shop near the hospital, he's thinking these same kinds of thoughts, so it's not really Bellamy's fault. He enjoys Abby's company company and would be happy to see more of her. He already knew that. But it's been a long time since he navigated anything like this.

If only Friends had prepared him for this kind of romance.

"Marcus," says Abby, giving him a smile when he sits down across from her. As usual, she's surrounded by papers, and he sometimes doubts that she'd even have time for a relationship. She does keep herself busy. "I enjoyed your meditations on High School Musical."

"I'm glad to hear it. Bellamy says it gave me a net loss of followers, but not as much of one as he thinks I deserved."

"I'm not surprised." She considers him. "I didn't mean for our friendship to hurt your career."

"I don't think it is. Plenty of people just read my books and never even find out I'm on Twitter. It's not a large percentage of sales. You're blaming yourself for the High School Musical tweets?" he adds, curious. They are her fault, broadly speaking, but he wasn't sure she knew.

"If you don't keep coming up with hot takes, we don't have much to talk about."

He laughs. "I hope we'd come up with something."

"I hope so too."

The conversation lags, but it's not a bad lag. It feels like she's given him an opening, and it's his job to figure out how to take advantage of it.

The easiest way would be to simply propose a dinner date, as Bellamy suggested. But he's never been good at simple.

"You know, you never told me your favorite relationship on Friends."

"I didn't?"

"No, we usually talk about my opinions."

She levels her gaze at him, considering. "Do you know what I think when I watch Friends now?"

"No."

"They're all so young. And don't get me wrong, I met my husband when we were young, and the two of us were happy, but--sometimes it worries me how much emphasis we put on meeting people early in life. The younger you are, the more romantic it is. And that's one kind of romance, but it's not everything. It makes me want to shake all these kids and tell them that life doesn't end at thirty, or forty, or fifty. You'll keep on meeting new people, and you can still be happy."

He lets himself reach for her hand, and relief floods him when she lets him take it, even turns it over so she can squeeze his fingers. "So your favorite relationship on Friends is the one Rachel has when she's forty-five and Ross is dead?" he teases.

"I hope you're not comparing my husband to Ross."

He has to laugh. "No. I would never."

Abby's smile is warm, and it's suddenly so easy to not be nervous at all. "Good. Because the rest of that was right."

"Good," he agrees. "I was hoping you'd say that."

*

Sky Crew Reviews @kaneandgriffin New list from @kanemarcus: top 10 YA sci-fi books for adults! Up next, top 10 adult sci-fi books for teens. Age is nothing but a number.

Murphy @firstnameredacted Replying to @kaneandgriffin I will pay you to stop

Bellamy @bradburybell Replying to @kaneandgriffin and @firstnameredacted when are you actually going to unfollow like you keep saying you will? asking for a friend

Murphy @firstnameredacted Replying to @kaneandgriffin, @firstnameredacted, and @bradburybell I keep hoping I'm going to come back and he'll be normal again

SJW Cuck @kanemarcus Replying to @kaneandgriffin, @firstnameredacted, and @bradburybell Don't hold your breath.

[gilmoregirlsbigbrother]

DREW’S JURY Q&A

Clash

 What did you do other than just follow Dan?

LOLLLLLLL I don't think I followed Dan for any of the game. He and I absolutely worked closely together, along with Andrew, but calling Dan the leader and Andrew and I his followers is a huge stretch. We won our HOH comps and kept each other safe, we held our shit down, and made it work until the end. I saved Dan at the final four, and he saved me at the final three. As far as what I did without him, we had a whole ass alliance without him that fully ran the start of the game through the first couple rounds of jury. We also had the zwooper chat when we got here (which is more of a premade than anything Dan ever had btw, the word premade gets thrown around a LOT more often than it should) that gave me a stronger connection to you, and got me info about Nick's game. Like I said in my opening statement, I'm not gonna come here and try to argue some strategic mastermind strategy that ran the game start to finish, but one thing I never was was a mindless follower. Thank you.

Karen

What do you guys really think made you get to the end? The “strategy” that y’all played or the fact that everyone sucked infinitely more at challenges than both of you that you really had no competition. Also when did u think was the point in the game in which you guys knew you were making the end?

The challenges were a huge part of it, sure, like you know me as a player, I've never been shy about putting up for a challenge and using it as advancement in the game. In the endgame, absolutely the challenges had a lot to do with it. But I didn't win every challenge, I had to be able to depend on a trio that was just as serious about going to the end together as I was. But I also didn't get put up for Liana's hoh, or nick's, or adrian's, or clash's, or sammy's. Like I won't claim it to be genius strategy bc you also know that I'm always more than willing to own when I didn't put a whole heap of effort into something, but it was enough for the situation at hand, and honestly was probably still more effort than most.

I knew I wanted to go to the end with Dan and Andrew when I voted out Clash over nick bc until then I hadn't decided which path I was gonna take. I knew we were fully capable of powering to the end once Sammy left. I wasn't positive it was going to happen until I won F4 veto and knew I was voting out liana bc there is always room late game for one person to change their mind and push someone out the door. I trusted it wouldn't happen before that point but you never know for certain in these games until it's real and the post is coming out. As far as me and Dan specifically, this wasn't my ideal F2, as much as I love Dan, I would've taken Andrew bc that was the promise I made at the start of the game. So I didn't know this was happening until I lost part 3 of HOH.

Nick

Throughout most the game you were a non-factor and it wasn’t until final 7 that you decided to win a competition. You said you didn’t want to be backdoored and you wanted to do stuff in the game without becoming a target until final 7 and that sounds great... but you then targeted me of all people which simply is what the house wanted. I want to know why you decided to go after me because I don’t really accept the fact you think I didn’t trust you... I told you about my power before Clash who was my final 2 and you know I had nobody. So were you a bit clueless that I was that alone or were you just kinda going with the flow? And don’t talk or mention your threat level going in because to me that’s a terrible reason as to why you should win considering you didn’t display any sort of threat level gameplay all season. Your game didn’t match so don’t try “I’m Drew so I should win” on me because I don’t really like that one either. Make me want to respect your overly loyal game because to me coasting and being loyal can overlap and I am debating which one applies to you.

Okay so I'm Drew so I should lose??? Like??? You can say my game didn't match all you want but if I'd come in here trying to be HOH every other round when there were enough people here who know what it's like to play with me when I go on an immunity tear, I wouldn't be here. These are just facts. As for why I targeted you? You were targeted at F7 because by the final seven, you were the only one left who wasn't in either of the alliances that were in effect for basically the entire game. This "it's what the house wants so it can't also work for me and I shouldn't do it" mentality is small and in no way applicable to every round, and I'm a part of the house too. You may have trusted me and I thank you for that, but we hadn't been playing the game together in any meaningful sort of way for a long time, we barely talked votes, and I had no viable reason to keep you here. It wasn't being clueless or going with the flow, it was just my call and I made it. And as disappointed as you probably were to go home on the HOH of someone you trusted and wanted to work with, that doesn't leave me with any obligation to keep you if that's not the path that I also wanted to walk. As far as your last question, that overlap is gonna depend on where you fall on liking me slash my game, pure and simple. It's always the case that likeability colors everything jurors think they see and believe. If someone wins their way to the end, if you like them then it's amazing and they put in so much effort and they deserve it, if you don't like them then it's you wouldn't be here without your immunities. If someone flipped sides on votes a lot, if you like them then they're a strategic genius who was always making their life in the game better, if you don't like them then they're a fucking snake and they've lost all your respect bc they were loyal to nothing. And if someone chose their allies early and made the decision to stick with them to the end of the game regardless of who else might have wanted to work with them, and they were able to get to the end together, if you like them then it's a supremely loyal style of gameplay, if you don't like them then they coasted to the end without really needing to try. The call on which side of that coin this flip lands on isn't up to me, it's yours. I wish you luck making it.

Andrew

Hello gentleman. I love you both and I am beyond happy that our solid alliance of 3 made it to the end, but I do have some things to say. And since I’m an ugly, pretentious English major and I actually did care greatly about this game, this is gonna be a longer read. The issue is, I have come to find entering the jury that I was getting votes, but now those votes for me have to be oddly dispersed between you two in an environment where people are finding some big flaws in both of your games (and yes I am humble bragging that I could have very well won because I generally suck at BB and my best BB placement before this was 9th so let me have this moment).

Drew. I’d still like to believe you would have brought me to the end, but there’s no way to tell now so I’m not going to focus on that. What I AM going to focus on is the fact that multiple times throughout the game, you implied that you didn’t really care about the game all that much and were really just there for Dan and I. Now, while I do LOVE that you basically did anything we said, I’m not sure if that constitutes a vote for you from me - so if you want to defend yourself on that point then now would be the time. A part of me really doesn’t want to reward that behavior. And before you say, “well no one cared about the game,” I have myself, the guy you’re sitting next to, and some jurors that would say otherwise in a heartbeat. So why DO you deserve mine - or anyone’s for that matter - vote when you seemed to just do whatever Dan and I said and on the surface seemed to get lucky with the alliances you got sucked into early on? Yes, you aided in what was alliances were created during and after the crucial early Madison boot, but it wasn’t just you since Clash and I both had a pretty heavy hand in that as well. What did you do to not only separate yourself from Dan and other players that had their heads in the game that not just separates you, but puts you ABOVE in terms of all around gameplay?

I don't have a defense for that, and I'm not gonna try and hide anything behind pretty covers. There were absolutely times where I was only still playing the game because I hadn't been voted out yet, and not because I had a deep invested interest in being the winner of Gilmore Girls Big Brother. I didn't gather enemies or vendettas in this game so there were absolutely times I didn't have a personal stake in a decision because neither person staying affected me more than the other, and went with what my alliance wanted. I'm not gonna pretend I played some powerful singular game and that I was the best or the most dedicated or the social strategic legend or anything to say I played this game better than anyone on the jury and that there should be no question as to whether I deserve your vote. I knew what I wanted from a very early point in this game, and every decision that I made or agreed to was in service of that. You me and Dan at the final three, and you and me at the final two. If I went along with suggestions you made, or didn't have strong opinions of my own to provide, it's because it didn't matter to me which outcome happened because neither assisted or took away from my goals for this season. I didn't make big moves or flip any scripts or point to any players across the house and shout YOU'RE GOING HOME at them in angry old man voices. I would have if I'd needed to, but in order to get the outcome I wanted, I didn't need to. You and I both know what a winning resume looks like where a win is undeniable, and I don't have one this season. But I don't think Dan does either, and that's the choice you have to make. I fell short of my final goal for this season, but outside of that, accomplished everything I wanted in this season. Whether that ends with a win or a runner-up, I'm good. But to ultimately answer your question, I didn't do anything to singularly put myself above Dan or you, or really above any of the other jurors aside from actually getting what I wanted out of the season. And I'm asking for your vote anyway.

Adrian

Hi. Congrats to the both of you making it to the end of this game! As someone who was the first juror, I was gonna base my jury vote on the fact what other jurors said as they came in one by one, and that was a failed tactic. So I am forced to ask you guys a question because everyone left is split down the middle...

Anyway, your question is: if you had to turn back the clock in this game and have a reset button... when would you use it and why?

Honestly wouldn't change a thing, there weren't any points in this game (aside from the final eviction) where there was an outcome that negatively affected me, so I'm good with how this all played out. I might go back and try to stop the whole Andrew/Randy situation before it got to the level it did, but that's about it.

Liana

What’s your favorite musical instrument?

Piano, I'm a basic choir boy and piano warmups always made me happy

Sammy

Do you think you were active this game if so rate your activity 1-10 and how well did you interact  with other players. What was your original strategy coming into the game and did you continue it to the end or how did it change?

Oh my activity level was a solid 4 prejury, maybe up to a 6-7 once like F8 hit. I think I interacted well enough??? Enough to not make enemies and to ultimately have more people wanting to work with me than people I wanted to work with, which is the goal. Honestly my strategy coming into the game was to go far with Andrew and to use the Karen Madison vote as a galvanizing point to shape the game and drive everything forward. I would never claim to be the sole driving force or anything behind it, but it's exactly what happened, and by then the trio was fully committed so I shifted to that and that went to the end

[elisiyawritesfics]

Chapter 3; Nathan Drake & Victor Sullivan

Series: Path of Pyrite Fandom: Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune Word Count: 2141 Words

—

Kathryne wasn't quick enough to draw an arrow from her quiver the moment she had heard the gun cocking, but Tyler was quick enough to aim his crossbow and the gun holder. It was an elder man who was starting to grey and had a cigar in his mouth. "Easy there, old man, that's my little sister you're aiming at," Tyler spoke sternly.

"I'd lower the crossbow if I were you, son," the elder man suggested, even though he showed so sign of losing the gun. 

"After you drop the gun. 'Cause if you do anything else, chances are one of these arrows are going through your eye socket."

"Tyler," Kathryne intervened with a sigh before addressing the stranger. "Look, grandpa, We're not here to start anything. I just wanna take a peek in the U-Boat."

"Yeah, uh-huh," he didn't sound convinced in the slightest. "Why should I trust you?"

"I'm an archaeology student at Harvard University researching the legend and the location of the Golden Man," well, she wasn't lying. She was an archaeology student, just not yet. "I know for a fact you guys are looking for it, and I have no interest in taking it and selling it."

"How'd you know there's more than just me?"

Kathryne arched a brow. "Really? You wouldn't be out here waiting. Guess you can't do the whole climbing thing." That last part was more to herself than directly at the man. She then turned to Tyler, reaching out to make him lower his crossbow. "Wait out here, I'll check it out."

"But, Kath," Tyler started, but whatever she was about to say was shut down by the look she gave him. With a drawn out sigh, he nodded. "Fine," he looked back to the man. "Whoever's in there, tell them she's going in so they don't shoot her."

Sullivan gave him a look for a moment, but complied none the less. Once his walkie talkie was out, he held down the button to speak. "Heads up, Nate, someone's coming in. Don't shoot her."

"The hell, Sully?" there was a response immediately. "Who's coming in? More importantly, who are you letting come in?"

"An archaeologist. Just, don't shoot, her brother already threatened me for almost doing so."

Kathryne snickered, and Tyler just rolled his eyes. "Well, you guys can make up while I'm in there. Keep us posted, and try not to kill each other." With a salute, she turned and dove into the water. It was days like this where she was glad she learned how to swim. Unlike Rya. Swimming up to the U-Boat was easy, and once she had reached the structure, Kathryne took a deep breath and dove under. There was an opening in the rusted hull that was big enough for her to swim through. When she reemerged from the water, she surfaced onto the floor of the sub. There was a path that she followed up onto the upper level and into a broken up corridor. Each of the hatch doors had been opened and at the end of the hall, she could see a man standing in the captain's quarters. She made her way up, but she then stopped at a corpse by the last hatch door. Well, there's what smelled terrible. But it wasn't the corpse that caused her to stop. It was the gold coins that were scattered by him. Kathryne squatted down to pick one up. Spanish gold, definitely. But two things came up in her head; why did a German have a Spanish gold coin from centuries ago, and where is this coin from? It was stamped with a symbol she had never seen before. 

"I see you met my pal, Sticky Fingers, here." She heard a voice say.

Looking up as she stood, there was a man at the entrance of the captain's quarters. he had a similar appearance to Tyler; tall, a little built from what she could see, brown hair. The only difference was this man had blue eyes. She held up the coin. "Who has Spanish gold with a mint that I haven't seen before and a face that was torn to shreds. Yes, we got friendly with each other." 

The man shook his head. Sarcasm, he liked it. Mainly because that meant someone could take his shit. "So, you're the archaeologist, huh? Aren't you a little too young to be out here?" 

"Just 'cause I'm short doesn't make me that young."

"Did you get through your proseminar, yet?"

Kathryne made a face, and the man shook his head with a small chuckle. Well, this is awkward. "Okay, so what? I'm going in the fall."

"Aw, look, we have a baby on our hands. Still, it's impressive you made it this far," he held out his hand to her. "Nathan Drake. The old geezer outside is Victor Sullivan."

Since she was used to the baby jokes, Kathryne didn't even call him out on it. She took his hand and shook it. "Kathryne Catreel. I would ask if you had any relations to Francis Drake, but he had no kids."

"Touché, my friend. If that were true, I wouldn't be here towering over you. Besides, how would I have known where this baby was?" He held up a little red notebook, and Kathryne's green eyes widened. 

"Holy shit, is that—?"

"Drake's lost diary? You bet your ass it is."

"So that's why you're out here, to finish what he started." 

"Yeah, well, that. And, y'know, gold and glory. The good stuff." 

Emerald eyes rolled. "Guess I should have expected that," pushing loose strands of hair out of her face, Kathryne looked to the charted map behind them. "So, where to now?" 

Nathan held up his hand in front of her to stop her. "Woah, woah, woah, wait a second, doll face. We? You're not in on this." 

"Oh, you think I'm going to give up now. You're funny. I already told your pal that I'm not interested in taking and selling the thing, just finding it." 

"Y'know, I find that very hard to believe."

"You and the old guy outside have had so many things done wrong to you that make you both so untrusting, haven't you? Need me to swear on a Bible? A Catreel never breaks their word."

He narrowed his eyes at her, as if making a judgment on if he should tell her what he knew. One thing was true, and that was that so many things, so many people, turned on him and Sully that finding someone they could actually trust was a hard time. But, if he could admit, Nathan was impressed how far she had came with little to no information and a world full of false claims, since the only truth of El Dorado was in his hands, and off the coast of Panama for the last four centuries. And maybe, just maybe, a soon-to-be archaeologist (and anthropologist, since that's part of it at Harvard) is what they needed.

Nathan placed the diary in his palm laying down, then held it out to her. "We're short a Bible, this should do." 

Kathryne arched a brow once more. Was this his way of actually letting her and Tyler tag along? He actually is giving her the benefit of the doubt? Wait, she stopped mid-thought, he was probably only doing it so he could benefit from her in some way. Not that she cared about that, as long as she still found El Dorado. So, she placed her right hand on top of the diary, and held her left hand up. "I, Kathryne Elizabeth May Catreel, solemnly swear that I—"

"I swear to God, if you quote Harry Potter,"

"—will keep my word when I say my only interest in this hunt is to find the Golden Man, and nothing more. Y'know, I thought about it, but then you probably wouldn't take me seriously. Despite Prisoner of Azkaban was a great book and movie," she then lowered both her hands. "So, monsieur, what have you got so far?"

"French, huh? Y'know, you probably should have taken Latin in high school. It'll help so much more here," none the less, Nathan reached down to pick up a piece of paper with a map on it, the very one he had pulled off of the corpse of the captain. "Off the coast of Perú, there's an island that these guys were trying to find, from the looks of it. The best assumption is that there is where we'll find El Dorado."

"And the worst assumption?"

"We waste our time there and the trail goes cold." 

"Okay, lets just hope for the best." 

"One more question," Nathan started. 

"I possibly have an answer," Kathryne mused. 

"I see you got a bow and arrow and all here, but you can hold your own, right? I don't need to baby you, because babysitting is not in the j-"

Kathryne didn't let him finish because she grabbed him by the wrist and flipped him completely over her shoulder to where he landed on the ground back first. She quickly placed her foot on his chest as she drew an arrow from her quiver and pulled it back to aim at his throat. "Dollface, I grew up with two military buffs who taught me how to aim with this baby, two Asians who taught me what they know about martial arts, a drug dealer who taught me how to shoot, and a Latina who taught me how to manipulate with words," with a grin, Kathryne slowly released the bow and placed the arrow back in her quiver. Once her boot was off his chest, she held his hand out to him. "well, and a mom who taught me how to fence. You don't have to worry about me."

It was one thing to get Nathan Drake off guard, but completely knocking him over was a completely different thing. He wouldn't lie, he liked a strong woman. (Nate, buddy, don't go there.) "well, then, I guess this will be an interesting hunt," he said with a chuckle, then stood up with her help. 

"Hey, Nate," Sullivan's voice came through on the radio. "you still alive, or do I need to give you two a few more minutes to finish up?" 

At that, Kathryne couldn't help but laugh, and Nathan just rolled his eyes before holding down the button to respond. "Haha, very funny, Sully. I happen to have a little more class than you do. Anyways, get this," 

"Yeah?" This time, both Sullivan and Tyler's voice could be heard. 

Nathan held down the button, but let Kathryne do the talking, since she looked like she wanted to say it. Kathryne grinned. "We found out where the Spanish took El Dorado. The Germans were after it, too, and they just so happen to leave behind the map that'll lead us right to it."

"You're shitting me," Tyler sounded astonished. 

"Kids, this better not be a wild goose chase, or—" it suddenly cut off. 

"Or what?" Nathan asked as he held down the button, but there was no response. This caused him to furrow his brows. "Sully? You there?" He asked again, but no response. 

Kathryne leaned his hand down to press it down. "Tyler, what happened?" she asked, and that, too, was a question left unanswered.  

Suspicion lingered between the two as they exchanged a look. It didn't need to be said, Nathan just gestured Kathryne to follow him as he approached the hatch to the next corridor, pushing it open with a grunt. Following that was a loud metal clang and the sound of what was the mechanics of a machine starting up. "Oh, that can't be good." 

"Drake what did y—" the question didn't even need to be completed for her to get an answer, she saw the torpedo just as she had gotten partway through her words. "Son of a..." 

"We should probably get the hell out, like, now."

The two booked it, Nathan going first into the last opening and then Kathryne followed. Once past that corridor, they went down the ladder and into the lower level that Kathryne had originally came in through. While Nathan looked slightly panicked because it looked like there was no way out, Kathryne then took the lead here, diving into the water once more and swimming under, to which Nathan soon followed. 

Exiting through the breach in the hull, they swam out and towards the shore where they beached themselves onto the rocks. But they weren't alone. Standing before them was a man with gray, almost white, hair, and a younger looking man standing to his left who was armed with a rifle. 

"Hello," the man greeted Nathan as he extended his hand out to him.