#hey hey i know everything's gonna be fine but let me have my crisis in peace k

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Just fyi I will be turning 18 in a week from now on so any minors interacting with my blog better enjoy their last days on here /j

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

I feel like cowboy has a background in crisis management or hostage negotiations, he’d be Quantico’s finest silver tongue. But maybe when he first arrived on the BAU team hotch seemed to doubt his abilities and wouldn’t give him the chance to prove he’s more than just a sharp shooter - maybe bc Strauss really pushed to have him put into the team in the first place so hotch is keeping cowboy at arms length

- 🦕

I'm aware this is slightly very unrealistic but ya know, it's fiction. I picture Jackson as a scared kid with a bad past

Also I didn't mean to post it so yeah hopefully it's okay lmao

Directly followed from this.

Warnings: guns, hostage negotiations, untrusting team

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @anonstories08

"Let me do this." You and the team had managed to track down the kid who was doing this, when the police had surrounded the diner, he had felt trapped and pulled out a weapon. You wanted to be the one who negotiated with him, who talked him down. You could relate to him.

All of this stemmed from a scared kid who had no one left. He was left to deal with everything on his own, left to deal with the death of his father, abandoned by the system with no justice, so he took it into his own hands.

"Why should I let you do this when I have Rossi here?"

"Because I understand the kid." You answer, "And I was damn good at my job which is why Strauss recommended me for the position,"

Hotch stares at you for a moment and you stare back, you weren't going to let him intimidate you. Or even think that he can intimidate you. He nods slightly and you turn to the phone.

"Jackson? You there?"

"I'm here."

"I'm Agent (L/N)," You introduced, "You can call me (Y/N). I'm here to make sure everything gets sorted out,"

"You don't care. They don't fucking care!" Jackson yells, "No one fucking cares! No one cares that he's dead! No one cares that someone killed him! No one cares!"

"Hey, we care. That's why we're here, ain't it?"

"No, you're here so I don't go down in a rain of bullets."

"I hate to break it to you kid, that's not why I'm here." You answered, "It might be why the others are here, I'm here to make sure you don't do somethin' stupid. Somethin' you're gonna regret for years."

"You don't fucking get it!" Jackson shouts over the phone.

"Hey, hey, I get it," You kept your voice understanding, "It's tough, losin' someone you love."

"Yeah, and what would you know?"

"I- I lost my Mama at an early age, my biological Mama," You said, your voice crackling over the phone. "Everyone thought I was too young to understand, too young to remember, like twelve year olds can't think for 'emselves, y'know? N I remember bein' so angry that no one even thought to just sit me down and talk. And that's why I'm here, Jackson, I'm here to talk, to help."

"If you want to help, come inside. If you come inside, I'll let everyone go. I'll talk with you. But no one else. No one else sets foot in this building." Jackson paused for breath, "And no guns."

You nod, "Okay. That's just fine, we'll do that." As soon as your hand is off the button, Hotch is shaking his head.

"No."

"Sir, I get it, I'm the new guy, but I know what I'm doin'." You said strongly. "Just let me prove myself."

Hotch studied you for a moment before nodding. "You have five minutes."

"Thank you, sir," With that, you placed your gun in Hotch’s hand before making your way into the building (after they fit a wire).

When you get in, the hostages run out. At the very least you would be the only casualty if this went south.

"Hey kid," You said softly, sliding in one of the booths, Jackson hesitantly sat opposite you, his gun firmly aimed at you.

"This has to be some kind of trick."

"I want to help you."

"Do you have a wire?"

"Yes." You answer honestly, Jackson looks at you for a moment before nodding.

"You weren't supposed to tell me that, was you?"

You shook your head, "Nope." You answered, "But I did - for two reasons, I need you to feel like you trust me - and that requires my honesty - and I honestly think at this rate I might get fired, so it don't matter all that much anyway."

"That's ballsy," Jackson commented and you gave a small laugh.

"N what? Bein' an FBI agent isn't?"

Jackson laughed before sobering up, "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because you're a kid." You shrugged, "You've had it tough, but if you work hard, and face the consequences of your actions, you can come out the other end of this better."

"How? Everyone already treats me like I'm some lowlife. How can I possibly change that if no one is willing to give me a chance?"

"I'm willin' to give you a chance. I'm willin' to help." You said, "All you need to do to show me that you're willin' to change is to give me the gun n walk out there with me n show me that you're willin' to put in the time."

Jackson studies you for a moment before he nods, placing the gun on the table and sliding it towards you. You take it, emptying it of bullets - placing the gun in one pocket and the bullets in another. "Okay." He whispers softly. "I want to change. I want to be better."

"Then that's all that matters kid, fuck everyone else." You said, "Come on, let's go set things right, yeah?"

"Yeah... Okay..." He says hesitantly as he stands from the booth.

"Facin' the consequences of your actions are never easy," You said as you also stood, "But it's how you react to realisin' you made a mistake that determines the type of person you are."

Jackson nods, squaring his shoulders before leading the way out of the building with his hands raised. You give him a nod of encouragement as he gets into the police car.

You turn to Hotch, "Sorted." You answer before climbing into the SUV.

"He's good, I'll give him that..." Rossi mumbles before joining you in the car. "Good job, Kid."

"Thanks."

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

HII im a huge fan of ur writing and ur one of the few final fantasy writers on here thats active 😭😭 i was hoping i could request some zack fair fluff? like before the events of crisis core, maybe he accidentally gets himself sick during work and angeal knows he'll just keep showing up for work bc he wants the promotion to first class so bad, so he gets zacks childhood bestfriend (reader) to go keep an eye on him and make sure he actually rests lol. zack keeps insisting hes ok but reader is having none of it and takes care of him, which eventually leads to a confession bc zack doesnt understand why reader cares so much and it just leads to everything coming out. i hope that made sense lol this is my first request :) dont feel pressured to do this of course!!!

Since We Were Kids

pairing : zack fair x (female) reader

summary : zack is determined to reach first class. so much so that he will push through one of the most debilitating cold's he's ever had. angeal attempts to get him home, calling in zacks childhood best friend for help.

“Angeal! Come on! You know how important this is to me..” Zack lets out a pitiful whine, attempting to persuade his superior, before his whine turns into a horrific coughing fit. He doesn’t have to look up now that Angeal’s face has made no changes, he is stoic and his decision is final, Zack will not be staying for work this week. 

“You can take a week off.. Besides you're of no use to anybody with the state you're in. Go home, get some rest.”

“Fine..” 

“I mean it Zack..” 

“Yeah..yeah..i heard ya.” Zack crosses his arms, heavy sigh passing through his lips, eyebrows furrowing as he walks away from where Angeal stands. He was barely sick..a little cough wasn’t gonna hold him back from becoming a first class SOLDIER.

Zack barely lasts 20 minutes away from his training before his sword is back in his hands. His constant coughing fits are feeling him with annoyance but he powers through them to continue swinging away with the chunk of metal in his hands. 

But why was he so tired? He usually had so much energy. Why was his sword so hard to carry? It never had been before.. 

And why did it feel like someone's hand was on his shoulder? “Zack!”

He jumps away when there is suddenly shouting coming from beside him, his head pounding in a way that wasn't noticeable until this moment, “Angeal! Hey pal..what’re you..uh..doing here?”

“What’re you doing here? I told you to go home.” 

“I can’t go home, this is too important, I’m not even that sick..” Even Zack’s faith in the statement is beginning to falter, especially when his eyes become blurry from the dizziness pooling at the front of his head. 

“Go home.” 

“No way!” Zack expects Angeal to disagree again but he doesn’t, he actually doesn't say anything, he just walks away. It’s so out of character that Zack debates just listening to him and leaving so he doesn’t get demoted, but he decides against it and continues to practice while sweat pools on his skin. 

It doesn’t take long for Angeal to return, Zack isn't worried when he hears his heavy footsteps from down the hallway, but he is unaware of the other pair of feet following close behind.

At this point, Zack is just staying for spite, his body is exhausted and he is barely swinging his sword, and his coughing fits are becoming more frequent to the point where he has to stop moving to take deep breaths. 

“Zack. Enough is enough. Your friend can take you home now.”

“Huh?” Zack turns and almost starts coughing again, but only because the breath hitches in his throat, you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be seeing him like this. It’s pitiful, his inability to stay strong for training is embarrassing, and your gaze full of pity isn;t helping in the way it usually does. 

“She’s taking you home.” Zack opens his mouth to argue once more but Angeal has had enough, “No arguing. My decision is final, if I see you here again before I say you can return I will demote you myself, good luck reaching first class then..”

Zack looks defeated but he closes his mouth, and drops his sword with a loud clang, before trudging towards your side with his arms crossed tightly. His mannerisms make a giggle slip out of you, he looks like a child, but you quickly mask it as a cough when he shoots you a serious glare. Also reminiscent of a child but if you laughed again he might punch you. 

He isn’t happy about having to leave, especially being escorted out by a lady half his size, but he doesn’t make any complaints when you intertwine your arm in his to keep him stable. 

“I’m fine, y’know. I’m only going home because Angeal made me.” You nod along with him as he talks, hiding the disbelief running through your head. God was this kid stubborn, but it made you happy to know that his training hadn't changed the way he was when you were kids.  

“Zack, you need to rest..” 

“I need to reach first class.” 

“How do you expect to do that if you can’t even hold your sword up, dork.” His face scrunches up, but to your surprise he doesn’t pull his body away, he actually does the opposite and pulls your arm closer to his body. He’s using you to hold up a large amount of his body weight, but you allow him as long as he needs. 

When you finally reach Zack’s home, it takes more effort to get him into bed then you’d care to admit, he truly acts like a child insisting that he ‘doesn’t need to get any sleep because he feels perfectly fine’ followed by a coughing fit and him having to sit down because he feels dizzy. You promise him the soup that he likes if he gets into bed, to which he begrudgingly agrees to. 

After practically forcing food down his throat, he finally allows himself to be tired and his head falls back onto the pillows. You place a cold cloth on his forehead, after feeling it with your own hands and deciding that his fever might only be worsening. How’d he keep training while being this sick? 

You watch as he dozes off, you can tell he is trying to stay awake so he doesn’t fully admit that he is sick, but his body is taking over. He finally looks at peace, even though his hair is sticking to his forehead and his breathing is heavy, at least he’s getting some rest.

You plan on leaving, really you do, but you get so caught up in the image of him sleeping that you find your own eyes falling closed, head resting by his side against the bed. 

When your eyes open again it’s dark outside, you can’t tell how long you’ve been sitting with him but from the darkness pouring into the room, it’s longer then you meant for. You worry for a moment, worry that you’ve overstayed your welcome and that Zack got up hours ago to sleep away from you, but when you turn the lamp on beside his bed you find him in the same spot you’d left him. 

You’re greedy with how you look at him, you miss being so close to him. The proximity makes you realize how much you’ve missed him since he started his training, you hardly see him. And you wish the circumstances for finally seeing him again weren't because he was sick, and rather because he actually wanted to see you. But you’d take any time you could get with your best friend. 

He stirs suddenly and you let your hand fall on top of his, tangling your fingers in his, as a way to bring him some comfort in his sleep. His skin is warm and clammy, heating up your hands, it should be gross but the feeling of his hand in yours fills your stomach with a flurry of butterflies.

Slowly, his eyes flutter open and you can tell he is dazed, the way he scans the room to gather his surroundings before landing on you once more confirms your thoughts. 

“Y/n?” Zack’s voice is hoarse, causing him to clear his throat before he continues talking, “What’re you still doing here? How long have you been here?”

For a minute your heart pumps inside your chest faster than before, nervousness building in your stomach, “I’m sorry..I fell asleep a couple..hours ago I think. I didn’t want to leave right away in case you woke up again but I never meant to fall asleep.” 

“Why’re you apologizing..” His fingers, which you had forgotten were tangled in your own, tense against your skin and tighten their grip on your hand. 

“Sorry..” 

Your second apology causes him to let out a laugh. A laugh that immediately has him sitting up because he coughs so hard his lungs hurt, and he squeezes your hand tighter in his lap while he tries to catch a breath. 

When he finally catches a break, taking deep breaths while your hand slides up and down his back, he looks at you pitifully, “You’re gonna get sick..go home.” 

“You're crazy if you think I'm going home. I’m not leaving, who’s gonna take care of you?” 

“I can take care of myself, you know..”

“This is news to me.” You raise an eyebrow at him, to which he responds by sticking his tongue out tiredly. He can’t even retort like he usually does. He doesn't have the energy to argue and tell you to leave so you don’t get sick, Zack isn’t even sure he wants you to leave anymore. 

“You don’t have to stay..” 

“I want to, Zack. I care about you.” You can’t tell if his cheeks were already flushed or if they suddenly became red as you spoke to him, but either way you were sure your face was mirroring his.  

He falls back onto the pillows, asking you quietly if you'll get him some water and another blanket before he gets the chills, and you happily oblige. Even while he’s sick, he is able to feel content and you’re happy to be the reason. 

Zack's fingers find your hand again, squeezing gently as you sit on the chair beside him, “..Training is kicking my ass.” 

“Yeah..but I’m sure it’ll be all worth it eventually,” You try not to let his spirits get down especially while he is in such a tired state, his training put on pause because of his sickness, and you ponder telling him more, “I miss you, you know..a lot.”

A small smile appears on his face, eyes puffy and bags under his eyes, and he looks towards you, “Yeah?” 

You can only nod, embarrassed by his lack of affirmation that he has felt the same over the months he’s been training. 

“I missed you too..” And the embarrassment flees from your body instantaneously, while his thumb rubs over the top of your knuckles. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, him playing with your knuckles as he tries to hold back the aggressive coughs that threaten to leave his mouth. His head is pounding, and he should feel like shit, but he truly can’t bring himself to when you're looking into his eyes all concerned and you’re letting him play with your hands with no complaints.

“Why’d you stay?” His voice startles you, and you try to pretend that you weren't staring at him and admiring every detail of his face. 

“I already told you..” You roll your eyes, letting out a huff before leaning on the palm of your hand, in all honesty you were ready to doze off while Zack looked around your hands and face. 

“No..no..why’d you stick around?” His question confuses you and you have to think about what he might mean and then it clicks. You hadn’t realized that he might be aware of how much time his training takes up. It hadn’t occurred to you that Zack could focus on anything but becoming first class.

He’d been neglecting your friendship, but when Angeal rang and asked you to pick Zack up you agreed without hesitation, you forgot instantly about how angry his schedule made you. 

You’re not sure how to answer him. You could tell him the truth, that you had been madly in love with your black haired friend since you were children.

Or you could continue to lie, and claim that you had only stayed around because of your long lasting friendship that had absolutely no underlying romantic feelings that neither one of you could talk about. 

“C’mon Zack..” 

He stares into your eyes, right through you. He knows, he already knows, you don’t have to say anything to him. As he looks at you, he's pleading with you to admit it to him and it makes your stomach crawl with nervousness. 

“Y’know I’d do anything for you..been like that since we were kids.” His eyebrows furrow at your attempt to dodge an admission that you hadn’t been prepared for an hour ago, you still weren't ready to admit to him that you were in love with him. 

“Y/n..do you love me?” 

Again silence fills the room and you’re unsure what to say to the expectant boy. You think, for a second, that he's joking. But his eyes are filled with such sincerity and genuine interest. He wants to know, and he doesn't seem to care if his question comes off bluntly.

When you don’t immediately respond he continues in your place, “Because I think I’m in love with you and I know I’d do anything for you. And I think you feel the same way. I can’t think of any other reason why you wouldn't ignore Angeal’s call, and tell me to deal with this by myself. I know I haven't been around like I should be. But you’re here anyway..”

“Zack please..of course I do. Been like that since we were kids,” You smile softly, repeating yourself and look down at your entangled hands.

He doesn’t let that allow that for very long before he is grabbing your chin to turn your head to face him once more, “I’m not gonna kiss you, because I don't want you getting sick. But I promise you, as soon as this sickness is gone I’m gonna be all over you..” 

Even though his words, words you would've never expected to hear when you dragged him into his room just hours earlier, send a nervous shiver down your body you still find a way to tease him, “Careful Zack. Get too excited and your lungs might act up again.”

“Can I ask you to stay the night?” 

How could you ever say no. 

“Of course, Zack, anything for my first class SOLDIER.” 

[leasstories]

I want to be there for you

Eddie x gn!reader

TW: Chronic pains

WC: ≈ 1K words

Dedicated to my big sister who has the courage to live with chronic pains every single day. I love you big sis

You’ve had chronic pains for a few years now, but a crisis like this never happened in front of your boyfriend, Eddie. You’re currently curled up on the couch your joints and muscles hurting. Every part of your body aches but the most painful ones are your hips, your ankles and your knees as well as your fingers and toes. You’re boyfriend just got back from work, all excited, as usual.

“Baby?” Eddie sing songs.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice weak, trying to hide in how much pain you are.

Eddie rushes to the living room without taking his shoes off.

“Baby, is everything okay?” Eddie asks concerned.

You nod, biting your lip to hide in how much pain you are.

“Baby…” Eddie coos. “I know you’re not well”

“Just hurting a bit.” You say trying to minimize the pain crisis you’re currently experiencing.

Eddie hurries to take his shoes off and slide on the couch, right behind you, holding you close.

“How can I help?” He asks, motivated in helping you as much as he can.

“Eddie… You really don’t have to…” You tell him, scared to be a burden.

“I don’t have to, I want to Sweets, so please just let me help.”

You nod.

“What usually help is warmth…” you didn’t even have time to finish your sentence that Eddie got up and hurried to the kitchen.

Eddie put the water to boil and prepared your hot water bottle.

Eddie screams from your kitchen.

“What else can help?” Eddie asks.

“Soft fabrics, for clothes or like covers” You answer weakly, the pain becoming so unbearable that you’re becoming teary eyed.

While the water is boiling, Eddie runs to your room and take your softest blankets and runs back to the living room, wrapping the blanket around you.

Eddie runs back to the kitchen, turns the stove off and put the boiling water inside the hot water bottle.

“Where do you want the warm bottle?”

“Maybe on my hips.” You answer.

Eddie delicately put the water botthe on your hip and stroke your arm.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Eddie asks.

“Stay here please” you ask Eddie.

“I’m not going anywhere Sweets, I promise” Eddie says sitting next to you.

Eddie starts stroking your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your hear and telling you how much he loves you.

“Did you do anything that might have triggered the pains?” Eddie asks you.

“Maybe it got triggered when I cleaned up the apartment” you tell Eddie.

“Baby… next time tell me and I’ll do it for you…” Eddie suggests.

“Eddie it’s fine…” you say, not wanting Eddie to have to suffer from the consequences of your own chronic pains.

“It’s no big deal, I swear” Eddie tells you.

You sigh “I just couldn’t do the laundry… it was too much for my body…” you reluctantly confess, ashamed.

“Let me do it for you” Eddie says, getting up, careful not to hurt you furthermore.

Eddie does your laundry while you lay down, the warmth does little to calm your ache, you know another thing that could help but you’re afraid to tell Eddie what it is.

Eddie comes back with the clean laundry and starts folding it and putting it in your closet. Eddie never folded clothes as well as he just did.

You get up from the couch and goes to your room even though it hurts every fiber of your body.

“Stop, I’m gonna do it Eddie.” You tell him softly, wincing in pain.

“No Sweets, let me do it.” Eddie insists.

You look at Eddie folding your clothes baffled. “I didn’t know you knew how to do it” you say chuckling.

“’s not cause I don’t do it that I don’t know how to do it” Eddie pouts.

You go closer to Eddie and hug him from behind, pressing your body tight against him as you know pressure points help.

Eddie chuckles. “Hey, ‘s not hurting Sweets?”

You shake your head before saying, “pressure points helps, the tighter you hug me the better.” You tell him.

Eddie put the t-shirt he was folding on a shelf and hugs you as tight as he can. “Better?” he asks.

You nod. Eddie and you stay like this for a while until he asks. “Would a massage help?”

“I don’t know, I never had anyone massaging me” you confess.

“Lay down Sweets” Eddie tells you.

You lay down and Eddie starts massaging your knees, careful of not hurting you.

“Does it hurt?” he asks several times.

Every time you shake your head no.

Then Eddie massages your hips, you hum in content. It doesn’t suppress the pain, but it makes it more bearable.

“It helps.” You confess while Eddie massages your wrist and fingers with his warm hands.

Once Eddie finished massaging you, you look at him, feeling a bit better, “Lay on ly body please, as I said earlier, pressure points help.” You shyly say.

“Are you sure I’m not going to crush you?” Eddie asks, afraid of hurting you.

“You won’t” You say, laying on your back. “We can do it like a hug if it feels less weird for you.”

Eddie nods. He takes his denim and leather jacket off and lay on you, you wrap your arms around Eddie and the two of you stay like that for a little while. It feels good, it makes the pain hurt less and you feel so loved. Eddie is literally crushing you, but not in a negative way, in a way that makes you feel loved.

“Thank you” you mumble in his neck.

“Anything for you Sweets” Eddie says.

You stayed like this, Eddie crushing you for a while and then, Eddie decided that you were on bed rest. He made dinner to you and you both ate in your bed, in front of your comfort movie. Eddie even decided to stay the night and you fell asleep, your body tightly held by Eddie.

It feels good to feel held, firstly, it makes your joint and muscles hurt less and secondly it makes you feel loved and comforted.

Taglist: @abellmunsonmovie

[figthefruitfaeth]

Robin’s First Date.

| 12:36pm | 

“Wow, okay, I’m not taking advice from Mr. Polo for everyday of the week.”

“Hey, those were a gag gift—”

“Right, a gag gift you spent twenty minutes looking for. I got written up cause you couldn’t wear a Saturday on Tuesday.”

“I’m sorry I have standards.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Whatever. Come on—when have I ever steered you wrong? I’m off at 5, plenty of time before your date—”

“No! No. Not that I don’t appreciate it, cause I do and your great and all but...well...our styles don’t exactly mesh.” 

“Right, well that’s cause one of us has eyes and one of us has clashing patterns, so—”

“Oh, and the stripes? They don’t ever—”

“Which is good for you! But I know what the ladies like, Bobbin. I also know what this lady likes. And I know what’s going to get you laid.”

“Gross—“

“So are you gonna let me help you or what?”

“I’m calling Eddie.”

“Eddie?! No—”

| 12:57pm |

“Munson Mansion. This is Eddie, trapped in the wine cellar, speaking.”

“Eddie, I need your help.”

“Oh, hey, hi, what’s up?”

“The date’s tonight and I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Okay...”

“Not anything, but what I wanted to wear was in the washer before it broke and now it’s not gonna be dry in time and everything else is too bright, or too boring, and I’m getting sweaty and maybe developing a rash which is just perfect, I’m going to show up red and gross and she’s never going to talk to me again. God, maybe I should just cancel—“

“Heeey there, settle down. Breathe, in—out, there you go.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be over in 10.”

| 3:09pm |

“This is the Wheeler Residence. Looks like you’ve just missed us! Feel free to leave a message—“

| 3:33pm |

“Wheeler Residence, this is Karen speaking—“

| 4:17pm |

“This is Hop.”

“Oh. Um. HI Chief Hopper, or, Officer? Uh—“

“Who is this?”

“Robin. Buckley. Sir. Robin Buckley. I’m a friend of Steve’s?”

“Right.”

“Right. Right, uh yeah.”

“Well, he’s not here, so—“

“Right, right, no! I was, uh, calling for Jonathan? Is he—is he around?”

| 4:21pm |

“Robin?”

“Jonathan! Hey! Buddy...how’s it going?”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, totally, why wouldn’t it be? Unless, everything’s not alright with you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just don’t get a lot of calls from you.”

“Right. Well, you know work. Busy, busy! Ha ha...”

“Okay...did you wanna talk? Or...”

“Yes! I did, I did...OW! Sorry, sorry, banged my knee against something annoying. So...I can’t do this, this was a terrible idea...well, you shouldn’t have encouraged me—”

“Hey, if you’re busy—“

“Sorry, that was..my dad! Yeah, he needs help with the car. Tire busted and he’s not strong enough to lift the wheels so he always asks me, cause you know. Guns of steel and all that. But we should talk more. Yeah! Okay.”

“Yeah. Definitely...”

| 4:55pm |

“Family Video. This is Steve.”

“Steve.”

“Robin.”

“...”

“You need me to—“

“I need you to come over.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. What’s Eddie got you in?”

“Well...it’s creative?”

“Robin doesn’t want to go metal, even though metal clearly wants to go Robin. Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi babe. Rob, this is why you shouldn’t’ve asked him. He has terrible taste—“

“Ugh! You love this!”

“I do. For you. And more specifically, taking if off of you—“

“O.K. gross! Disgusting! Stop! Can we focus on me? I’m in a crisis!”

“Alright, alright. Let me clock out. Don’t let him near your scissors.”

| 6:14pm |

“This is the Wheeler’s, it’s Mike.”

“Mike! Oh, Michael, thank God I thought I was gonna have to hangup on your mom again.”

“Robin? Why are you calling my house? Is someone in trouble?”

“No! Why does everyone keep assuming that? Don’t answer that. Listen, I need your help.”

“What? No, I have a campaign going.”

“It’ll take like two minutes—did he say a campaign?—then you can do whatever—no, don’t—What campaign?”

“Eddie?”

“What campaign? Unless I’m mistaken, and I rarely am—HA—we don’t have a Hellfire meeting scheduled till Friday. What is this? A mutiny?”

“No! No I promise! It’s just a one-shot, just to get Will back into things, I swear.”

“You swear, huh?”

“On my life! On The Knights of Mystic Fire!”

“Yeah, you better. I’ll let this slide if you help out Robin. No buts! Or Sir Miklan is getting disadvantage on every throw next session.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

“Can you go check and see what Nancy’s wearing?”

“What?!”

“Not like that! Just! We’re, uh, hanging out tonight and she didn’t tell me where we were going and I don’t know if I should bring a jacket, so just go and check, okay?”

“I’m not doing that.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s weird. Here, just talk to her yourself—“

“What—no, Mike—”

“Robin?”

| 6:19pm |

“Nancy. Hi.”

“Hi, Robin.”

“...”

“I didn’t mean to hang up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I figured it was an accident or something.”

“Yeah. You know me, love slipping on things and hitting buttons I can’t..unclick..”

“Yeah, I do. It’s really cute.”

“Ah, well, I mean, if you say so. Most people find it annoying, but I mean, if you think—ah, well, thank you. I think your cute too, obviously. Um. I mean, not for that, also obviously, cause I don’t think you’ve tripped on anything in your life, uh, so—“

“Robin.”

“Yes!”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah! Could you tell?”

“Hm!”

“I don’t know what to wear. I had an idea, and then it vanished and nothing else in my closet felt right. Steve just kept trying to cinch my jeans cause he said that’s what girls like, and Eddie kept suggesting leather, but I sweat a lot in leather, you know? And then I called Jonathan—“

“You called Jonathan?”

“I know, Steve already chewed me out for that. I didn’t really talk to him anyway, I just didn’t know who else to call—I don’t have a lot of friends. But—I don’t know. The outfit needs to be perfect, cause the girl I’m going on the date with, is perfect. And...I really like her. A lot. Like, makes my head dizzy, a lot.”

“Oh, Robin.”

“That’s not a pitying ‘Robin’ is it?”

“No. It’s a ‘you’re very cute and I’m very excited for this date’ Robin. Look, don’t listen to Steve. I’m pretty sure the jeans are more about him getting to check out his own ass than anyone else, and Eddie’s into whatever everybody else isn’t. Just wear what you feel like. You could pull up in PJ’s and I’d be happy. I don’t want the date to be perfect, I want the date to be us.”

“Naaaancyyy! Oh my god that was so perfectly sweet.”

“Does that help?”

“Yeah, that makes me feel better. Still a little anxious, cause on a practical level I still don’t know what to wear, but I do feel better about the not-knowing.”

“Well...if it helps, I’m wearing purple. So you should wear something green, that way we match.”

“That’s smart. I love green.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, that’s why I wore purple.”

“You were trying to get us to match?! Nancy, do you have a crush on me or something?”

“Well I’m glad to see you’re feeling more confident. Even if it’s at my expense.”

“Ha-ha yeah. Okay, gotta run, I’ve got—oh my god, I’m gonna be late. Okay, I’ll see you at the diner—dressed! Bye, Nance!”

“Bye, Robin.”

[yacinthemorning]

Birdsongs

Chapter 6

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Summary: The Life Pilgrimage is the biggest music festival of the century, set to take place all across the continent. Small-time rock band, GIST, and the up-and-coming alternative band, Empire, are both lucky to be among the hundreds set to make appearances, but there's just one problem. Neither can afford the travel expenses on their own. For better or worse, they're stuck with each other for the next five weeks as they try to make their dreams come true.

And, perhaps, among the chaos and music, two unsuspecting souls find one another...

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic), Jimmy & Scott (platonic)

Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, peer pressure, mild homophobia, bar fight, life crisis, anxiety, dancing

It was just after seven that they all walked down to The Mineshaft Pub, the favoured locale for dancing according to a woman in town. The decor was western, with the walls covered in historical pictures of the old miners that used to frequent it. Not the place to find anything fancier than a rum and coke.

It was surprisingly packed for a week night, though half the patrons were vaguely familiar. The second they entered the bar there was a shout in their direction, and Scott’s face lit up. A large woman pushed through the crowd, a lanky man on her tail, in neon everything like they expected a rave rather than Tim McGraw. “Scott, dear! You made it!”

“Cleo! Joe! I thought we were ahead of you.” He laughed, happily accepting a hug which quickly continued on to Pearl. Scott vaguely turned to the rest of them. “This is my band. Lizzie, Joel, Jimmy, this is Cleo and Joe from HHH.”

“And those are my guys,” Pearl threw her thumb over her shoulder to the rest, “Gem, Impulse, Skizz, and Tango.”

“A Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Joe bowed like he was in a medieval court, which contrasted greatly with his thick southern accent. Gem giggled. “I didn’t happen to catch your bands playing a the last venue, but I hope fate is kinder to us at the next.”

“I think I heard a bit of you guys!” Intruded Skizz, pushing past Scott in his excitement. “You guys have crazy range, real interesting mix of folk and disco you got going! Especially with your poetry.”

It sounded like a horrendous mash-up to Jimmy, not even able to picture how it came together in his mind. Until he heard it himself, he’d just have to trust the event organizers’ tastes. The three groups exchanged a few more pleasantries, Scott and Pearl slowly drifting to Cleo’s side. Then, both were being beckoned away with promise of free food and dancing. “Watch your drinking, Jim. You know how you get.” Scott called before they disappeared into the crowd.

Jimmy huffed. Well, that was two less people to pay for, at least. Fwhip shrugged, and waved down a waitress as they found a pair of tables, “We’ll see them later. For now, lets get some wings and beer.”

“I think I’ll just have a coke.” Jimmy murmured while he slipped his guitar onto the back of his chair. He read through the tiny menu, only for it to be snatched away from him. “Hey!”

“Nuh-uh. C’mon, Jim, you’re a big boy now. We ain’t smokin’, it’s just a drink.” His manager insisted, ordering full pitchers of whatever beer was on tap for the whole table immediately along with the wings platter. “Joel can be our good little sober boy today.”

The man’s head shot up off the table immediately, “Uh, excuse me? I need at least two mugs of pisswater before I’m touching that dance floor, and Lizzie isn’t gonna let me not dance.”

“It’s fine, Fwhip, really.” Jimmy tried to insist. Some of GIST were looking at their table with concern. Tango’s brow knit behind his bright red sunglasses. He could feel his ears get hot, shrinking in on himself. “I’d rather do it then risk no one.”

Fwhip wasn’t going to take no for an answer, though. Not tonight. “You’re only saying that cause you’re still embarrassed about how you acted at Sausage Fest after downing those seven mojitos.” He teased, and god were those memories Jimmy would rather forget.

A mug slammed down in front of him, and the biggest pitcher Jimmy had ever seen saddled up beside it, Fwhip’s shit-eating grin distorted through the ruddy liquid. Jimmy glared right back, but eventually he gave in. If only to stop a scene. “Just one glass.”

“Hell yeah!” Fwhip cheered, stealing the pitcher away to fill all their glasses before holding his own up in cheer. “Grown ups table only today, men- and lady,” He winked at Lizzie, who stuck her tongue out. “Here’s to that amazing performance, and all the amazing performances to come!” Their glasses clinked, separating for Joel and Fwhip to almost instantly chug half their glasses. Lizzie took a much more modest sip. Jimmy swirled the glass for a moment, bringing it to his lips when Fwhip and Joel put their glasses down. He’s not sure he got more than a taste of the foam, but he pulled the same sour face the rest of his band did.

“I didn’t mean literal pisswater, jeez.” Joel coughed, but took another swig anyways. It certainly smelled bad enough to be true. There was probably nothing fruity on the menu to mask the alcohol in a bar like this.

Skizz held up his glass, shouting over almost the whole bar, “That’s the taste of freedom, my friend!”

“From what? Regulation?” Tango snickered.

“From modernity! Civility! Authority!”

Gem rolled her eyes. “Sooo, yes.”

“Hey! This is a sacred place of debauchery and hedonism! Feast upon the grapes of whatever and dance till the sun rises upon us! Let us make our great father Dionysus proud!”

Both tables clapped, GIST shaking their head in amusement. Wings soon arrived, though, and they all dug in. Jimmy nursed his drink at a snail’s pace, hoping Fwhip would simply think he was hungrier than he was thirsty. It got a bit more difficult when Lizzie dragged Joel to the dance floor when a song she like came on, dinner be damned.

There was a few minutes when a man, another band’s manager apparently, passed by, and Fwhip spun around to chatter with the man. Someone tapped on his shoulder at that moment. Jimmy spun around to see Tango holding out his mug, near empty except the foam slowly sliding to pool at the bottom. It took him a moment before he realized what was happening, and grabbed his own mug. The transfer was far from smooth, slopping onto the floor a bit. When Jimmy’s mug was mostly empty Tango pulled it back with a mischievous grin and a wink before bringing the mug up to his own lips. Jimmy returned it with the same smile and turned back to his table. Behind him, he heard Tango wretch. He tried not to laugh.

-

It was a little over an hour into the night. Most tables were cleared of real food, replaced with glasses of various substances, and the air had become thick despite the no smoking signs. Tango was having a lovely time shouting with his friends when one song ended and a mic came on. Gem shrieked with glee, “Oh my god, guys! Come one, come on!” She dragged Impulse out of his chair, abandoning their table for the dance floor while one of the bar tenders tried to get the place pumped up for a line dance.

They nearly crashed into Scott and Pearl, who were already rosy-cheeked and giggling nonstop alongside Cleo. The three were linked hand-in-hand, pushing to the front of the group at Pearl’s insistence. It’d been a while since Tango had seen her let go and have fun. Not that she wasn’t always a joy, but... Well. Tango was still convinced waking up at five am to work for a band that had never once taken the gig seriously was crazy people actions.

He knew in the grand scheme of things it was for her career. GIST was her first foray into management and they weren’t going to be around much longer. Pearl was destined to move on to bigger and brighter bands, and he had all the confidence in the world she would with how brilliant and hard working she was. He just wished she took the chance to let loose while she still could. And the fact Scott and this Cleo person were able to get her to was enough to put them in Tango’s good books.

Joel and Lizzie were at the far end where they were previously dancing alone, and Fwhip dragged Jimmy into line right behind GIST despite his protests of leaving his guitar alone. The bar tender was up on a small stage, and began demonstrating the moves. Half of them hadn’t realized they were starting already, causing gem and Skizz to smack into the other two. Eventually after many bumps and giggles the whole crowd was on the same page doing the cupid shuffle. Skizz was the first to wrap his arms around Tango and Gem’s shoulders, until all four were linked, at least until they were asked to turn. It switched up to the cha cha slide, at which point Tango lost all coordination, much to his band’s amusement and their neighbour’s bemusement.

By the end they were all cheering and out of breath, Impulse being the first to retreat back to their table, Fwhip not far behind. Skizz swept Gem back over to the dance floor where Lizzie was happily dragging around Joel. Cleo, Pearl, and Scott tried to navigate into the crowd but nearly fell into a cackling heap with how drunk they’d gotten, and chose to bow out for the time being. Tango was in the middle of contemplating whether to do the same when a bright eyed face invaded his vision.

“You’re not throwing in the towel already are you?” He said with amusement.

It was almost wrong, to see Jimmy sans guitar on his back. His face was flush, not drunk on alcohol but some sort of adrenaline. His hair had fallen out of how he’d had it styled, sticking slightly to his forehead and up where a hand had been run through it. The sweetest smile stretched across his face, a hint of mischief in his dark eyes. There was a stain on his cream button up, presumably from the hot wings, which Tango desperately wanted to point out just to say something instead of staring like a brainless goldfish. Before he could have the chance to say anything he was being pulled over to the centre of the dance floor.

“You know how to dance without instructions, I hope.” Jimmy laughed as they came to a halt.

Tango crashed right into him. Taking a moment for his brain to restart he put on the cockiest grin he could muster and confidently informed the men, “Pssh, I’ll have you know I’m an expert.”

“Oh yeah?” They’d began to sway with the crowd, nothing specific.

“In fact I’ve take a whole half a dance class before.” He did an awkward exaggerated jig for emphasis, which got a laugh.

“Oh, please tell me it was-”

“The tango? How’d you know?”

Jimmy cackle-cheered so hard he had to stop dancing for a moment to recover. When he calmed he reached out for Tango’s hands and they turned with the rest of the crowd, finally adding a few little cowboy steps to their swaying.

In truth, the sum total of Tango’s former dance experience mostly involved swaying cross-legged in the mud high out of his mind, headbanging in in a pit, and the macarena at a wedding. That hardly mattered now, especially when Jimmy just as uncoordinated. Whatever dance they were doing involved at lease one person’s foot on the others with each step and a lot of giggling. Tango was beginning to wonder if Jimmy had slipped away to grab his own drink at some point or inhaled a bit too much of the smoke, but his eyes were too focused for that. No, he really was just absolutely delighted to be moving around in the crowd, singing suspiciously well alongside Shania Twain. It was absolutely...

Well, Tango tried not to think too hard about what it was. Especially not when his gaze momentarily slipped away to avoid going blind and instead landed on Lizzie, who was giving him a knowing look. He couldn’t tell what emotion it was on her face, only able to presume she was still mad at him. A suggestion was on the tip of his tongue as the last stomping beat of Any Man of Mine played. Out of guilt or nerves. But he felt Jimmy back away with another airy sort of sound and he was dragged back in. He beamed, “Wanna go sit and grab a drink?”

They wound up at the bar rather than with their friends, where Jimmy could order a coke in peace while Tango could grab a nice whisky instead of more Molson. Jimmy was still giddy, his heel bouncing on the stool as he smiled down into his drink. He glanced over, though, to Tango’s glass. “Can I try?”

Tango slid it over, “S’bout as good as reasonably priced whisky gets.”

Jimmy rolled it a bit, took a sniff, then a sip. His nose wrinkled a bit before he passed it back. “Yeah think I’ll stick with mine.”

“Not for everyone.” Tango concedes.

“I just don’t like the taste much, or the feeling.” He brushes his chest, chewing on his lip and side eyeing Tango. “Just not...”

Ah. He shrugged, trying to act as casual as possible. “You don’t have to explain yourself, partner.”

“No, I guess I don’t. Not to you.�� Jimmy smiled, then took a sip of his coke.

“So, you like to dance?” Tango said, approximately as smooth as a cactus made of sandpaper covered in barnacles.

Jimmy by some miracle didn’t notice, and lit up once more as he went on a tale of childhood fairs and forced square dancing lessons and learning that dancing could actually be fun after years of spiteful refusal to ever perform again. It devolved into another story, and another. The bar tender was happy to slip yet another glass in front of Tango after each one.

Their chatter was only interrupted by Joel, who practically screeched across the bar from the stage, calling for his ‘babe’ which was apparently not Lizzie. Jimmy laughed and screeched back, back to full energy, and darted away back to his table to grab his guitar. They quickly took over the bar’s attention as they both began wailing away with the song, Jimmy strumming scratchy notes on his guitar. Some shouted, some cheered. Tango watched with great amusement, entirely missing when the seat next to him became reoccupied.

“Having fun?”

Tango’s head spun around. Lizzie was staring into Jimmy’s empty glass. He cleared his throat and swivelled back around. “Think so. You?”

“Of course.”

An awkward silence befell them, a not very silent one given the screaming and music and thudding and clinking. It all sounded like a distant whisper right now.

Lizzie huffed, and looked up, “Look, Tango. I’m not sorry about earlier.”

“Oookay.” He quirked an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought she was, but it seemed rude to come and say to his face.

“I’m not.” She insisted looking frustrated. “But I guess I can’t exactly tell you to not speak to my brother when he’s the one speaking to you. So, I’ve decided to call truce.”

“Thanks? I think.”

The silence was back. Lizzie chose to ignore it this time, flagging down the bar tender to get her own drink. Tango continued to sip his own.

He cleared his throat. “I liked your set.” Wow, way to go. Might as well call myself a climate-denyer with all this ice I’m not breaking.

That of all things got her undivided and startled attention. “Really?”

“I mean, yeah. You guys got some serious talent. I don’t think I saw anyone with as much range.”

“Well, I’m glad.” She said, stuck between wanting to be mad and soaking in the praise. “I’ve been working for this almost my whole life, you know. Since I was eight.”

Tango whistled, genuinely impressed. “Ain’t that the sorta dedication and ambition we all wished we had. Definitely shows. You’ll have to show me how you did that one bit in... What was it called? The one that was all-” He squinted in frustration, drawing shapes in the air to hopelessly illustrate his point.

Lizzie blinked, then clapped happily, “Oh! Destiny?” She beamed, and that was the first time Tango had been sure she and Jimmy were siblings. “Yes, well, it only really works with my keyboard specifically...” She descended into a rant, explaining what she had done with modes and foot pedals, completely forgetting to actually tell Tango what model she used in the first place. He could ask later. For now he nodded along, making mental notes. Now and then he asked questions, the conversation on the brink but never quite fully petering out to chase away the awkward silence. Tango wasn’t even sure it would still be there if it ended, but he much preferred happy Lizzie elaborating on how she played the keyboard over grumpy Lizzie ready to punch him in the throat.

Jimmy’s voice carried over the crowd, who roared to life as he started singing along with Dolly Parton. Tango took the briefest moment to watch, smiling to himself.

“Suppose...” Lizzie began, the words dying momentarily before she took in a new breath. “Suppose I was wrong.”

“About?” Tango tilted his head in confusion.

“Someone Jimmy met.” Her gaze was permanently fixed on her drink, obscuring whatever complicated emotions were passing over her face. “Suppose I was distracted with my own relationships and dreams. Suppose I was bias cause I knew them, and too young and stupid to notice it just wasn’t right for him until I had to forever hold my peace.” Fingers tightened around her glass. Tango worried it might shatter. “Suppose afterwards I had to help him unpack everything I helped him pack up before. Comforted him when he cried then go comfort the person who made him cry when they cried too, and couldn’t tell which was wrong, if either was. Suppose even after it was over it still wasn’t, and I couldn’t stop thinking it was for my sake it wasn’t.”

Her eyes were glossy when she timidly looked back up, threatening her perfectly done eyeliner. “Is there something wrong with trying to protect him from something like that happening again?”

And Tango couldn’t say no. He knew what it was like to be on both sides half a dozen times over. Maybe not the exact scenario she was alluding to, but ones similar enough. Hesitantly he reached out, and when she only shrugged he place his hands gently on her shoulder, giving her a comforting rub. “I think the only person who can answer that for you, is Jimmy.”

“And what am I supposed to do if he doesn’t want help?”

“I dunno, be there for him in other ways? You’re both adults, you’ll figure it out.” He snorted, his own bittersweet memories playing out in the back of his mind. Mostly of himself. “Some people just need to make their own mistakes to learn, even if you can tell them exactly what will happen if they do. It’s a lot better than feeling like you aren’t allowed to make mistakes at all, I can tell you that.”

“He’d make so many.” Her laugh was humourless. “And don’t think I don’t know what you stand to gain from this.”

Did he? Tango glanced over his shoulder to where Jimmy was, laughing and leaning over Joel as they belted along with the song. The guitarist paused, their eyes meeting, and an enormous grin stretched across his face as he waved to Tango. Tango waved back and turned away. He supposed he did. Was he just being biased? He hoped not. It was hard to think clearly through the buzz. “Well, you could always just beat the crap outta me. He can’t do much about that, can he?”

 That got a real laugh, so he turned back to her. Her eyes were still wet, but there was determination there now. “Don’t think I won’t!”

“I ain’t gonna defend myself!” He threw up his hands in concession. “Seriously, though. Jimmy never has nothin’ but good things to say about you. I think he really admires you, y’know? Just my two cents. You should just talk to him yourself, can’t imagine he’ll be rude about it.”

“He wouldn’t.” She agreed, shaking her head. “It’s just hard to have some conversations with younger siblings. Hard to see them as grown up when it feels like they were shoving crayons up their nose just yesterday.”

That was where Tango’s expertise ended, as an only child, so he shrugged. “When I was a kid we just ate them.”

“Oh, that was Joel’s thing. I was the smart one, you see. The only one who knew to draw with them.” She turned up her nose, dramatically sweeping her bubblegum pink locks back.

“... Sooo, on the walls?”

“It was a big canvas!”

Their conversation was cut short by a crash and commotion in the crowd. It didn’t take much else than spotting the mop of teal poking a few inches above the rest of the crowd to send both racing over.

There was a shit-faced cowboy, oddly familiar but Tango wasn’t sure from where, in a soaked flannel, flanked by two similarly dressed friends. In front of him stood Scott stuck somewhere between ‘ready to fall over and puke’ and somehow still high and mighty sass. There was an upside down cup in his hand, barely held there by three fingers. Tango didn’t need to see the pool of ice on the floor to put the pieces together. Especially not with Pearl huddled behind him in Cleo’s arms as she too glared daggers into the strangers.

The rest of their group quickly showed up, Jimmy and Joel shoving their way through the opposite side of the forming circle while the rest appeared beside Tango and Lizzie. Gem’s eyes narrowed as she snarled, “It’s that creep!” It took all of them to hold her back from marching into the conflict.

A fist wrapped around the front of Scott’s shirt and dragged him down to eye level with the cowboy, “The fuck’s your problem?” He snapped. Behind him his buddies jeered.

It took Scott’s alcohol addled mind a visible moment to register what just happened. His nose wrinkled, turning his face away. “Not my fault you can’t take a hint. Or a shower.”

There was a chorus of laughs, mostly from his own bandmates and Gem. All except Lizzie, who was giving Jimmy and Joel a nervous frown. The two weren’t paying attention, looking far too amused by Scott’s antics. Joel whispered something into Jimmy’s ear and Tango could only guess it was another one of their bets.

The cowboy spluttered, entire face red at this point, and shoved Scott back. His glass crashed to the ground. “Ain’t none of your business sniffing me, fairy boy!”

Scott’s eyebrows went up. Behind him, Pearl tried to whisper something to him, but it went ignored. Then he laughed, throwing his hip dramatically and leaning in. “Flattery won’t get you on this dick, princess.”

Then his fist connected with the stranger’s jaw.

“Jesus Christ, Scott!” Pearl shrieked, her and Cleo dragging him back as the cowboy went down.

Completely chaos broke loose. Gem ran free with a battle cry and launched herself onto the back of one of the cowboys just before he swung for Scott, her brother not far behind. Others broke through the crowd, friends or just rowdy patrons. It took Scott only a moment to get back into the fight, Jimmy and Joel cheering the three on. Joe jumped up on the bar with the mic, attempting to implore the crowd to calm down, but someone snatched his ankle and he quickly went down. Skizz shouted, though it was so incoherent Tango wasn’t sure if it was for peace or war. A plate smashed against a post. Both Tango and Lizzie shrieked as they ducked behind Impulse.

“Oh- those-” Lizzie blabbered while the three backed out of the main conflict. Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Jimmy, Joel! No!”

Tango turned just in time to watch the blond slam his guitar case into a guy who’d latched onto Gem’s pigtails. It was swiftly retaliated with a kick to his gut. He dominoed into a small crowd, from which Joel slipped passed and decked the offending cowboy in Jimmy’s stead.

People began pouring out of the bar, some fleeing and others fighting. “You two grab your boys before they get their teeth knocked in.” Impulse directed. “I’ll find Pearl and we’ll grab the rest when it’s safe.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Tango cleared a path behind the main brawl, Lizzie close on his tail. By the time they reached Jimmy and Joel they sported matching dark bruises on their cheeks, and there was blood dripping from Jimmy’s nose. That’d been enough to get them to bow out, but not to back off as they egged on their bandmates. Lizzie wasn’t having any off it, grabbing the strap of Jimmy’s guitar and the scruff of Joel’s shirt. Tango squeaked as Jimmy was practically tossed into his arms. “Let’s go!” She shouted.

All four stumbled out into the cool night air. They didn’t stop moving, not until they were halfway down the street and wheezing. “Oh my gosh!” Jimmy gasped for his life while Joel doubled over beside him. There was still adrenaline pumping wildly through Tango’s whole body, giving him the shakes.

Lizzie took just a moment to lean against a stop sign before her face twisted with rage and marched over to the two, shoving her finger into each’s chest. “What’d the matter with you two?” She screeched. “You could have gotten killed or arrested or- or- Gyahh!”

“Never been to jail.” Jimmy mused, which was the wrong answer. Despite Lizzie berating, the two devolved into giggles and bolted on ahead towards the campsite.

Lizzie was absolutely furious, read to chase after them if not for Tango’s hand on her shoulder. “Let ‘em run it off, Jimmy’ll make sure they don’t get far.” He assured. Jimmy may be high on the excitement of it all, but he was still sober. Just as he thought so the man in question nearly face-planted into the gravel road, saved only by his guitar case hitting it first. Joel paused to laugh at him before dragging him back to his feet and running once more.

“you see what I deal with?” She said, shrill and throwing her hands out towards her husband and brother, before they flopped to her sides. Tango couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “Well at least they weren’t stupid enough to throw the first punch.”

 They jumped at the sudden tone of Tango’s blackberry going off. It took the man a moment fiddling in his jeans’ pockets to find the thing, then nearly dropped it. A small reminder of his own numerous drinks that night. “Hello?” He answered. Lizzie leaned in.

“Tango! Are you guys okay?” Pearl’s frantic voice shouted over the sounds of a crowd. “We can’t see you, Impulse said-”

“We’re fine, Pearlie-pop, don’t worry.” Tango hastily assured, double checking that the other two hadn’t passed out on the road ahead or something. “Got out of there, heading back to the campsite right now.”

“Oh, thank god. Listen, everyone here’s mostly okay, but I think Scott, Joe, and Fwhip need a couple stitches. So Impulse is gonna bring Gem and Skizz back and steal the van from you to take us to the hospital.”

He nodded, smiling at Lizzie who visibly deflated with relief. “Roger dodger, boss-lady. We’ll get everyone tucked into bed, don’t you worry.”

The walk back was quiet, only a few bats and an owl filling the crisp night air. Tango had to pull out the flashlight on his keychain as they turned down the dirt path that took them directly to their end of the campsite. Despite their earlier stress they couldn’t help giggle as they found Joel passed out against the running kitchen sink, a sticky note stuck to his sleeping face telling them Jimmy went to see if the store was still open. Tango wished he stayed long enough for someone else to check out his nose, but he was ready to crash.

“Do you mind-?” Lizzie began, practically collapsing onto her bed after she dragged Joel over.

Tango smiled, “You go to sleep, I’ll wait for everyone.”

She nodded, that being all she needed to roll over and get comfy. There was a brief moment, in which Tango nearly left before she called out, “Tango?”

“Hm?” He leaned back inside.

There was a strained smile on her face, “I am sorry about earlier.”

He let out an airy noise, and waved her off. “Don’t be, I was an ass. Wish I had a big sister like you. He’s lucky.”

“I don’t think anyone would accuse Jimmy of being lucky. But thank you. It means a lot.”

“You just worry about getting some sleep for Hangover Road Trip Electric Boogaloo tomorrow.”

There was a groan of realization, which finally got her to nod and roll over.

Tango closed the door as quietly as possible, and sat down on the steps to wait. He hadn’t realized how out of it he was, not until there was some sort of strange sound that knocked him back into the world of the waking. When had he even nodded off in the first place? There was the sound once more, though. Tango stood up, eyebrow and flashlight raised. “Hello?”

There was a rustle from the other side of the trailer, and a screech. Jimmy’s head popped out from between the bushes they were pushed up against. He had leaves stuck in his hair, and the buse on his cheek had become yellow and purple. Another was forming on his chin along with a half dozen on his arms. But the blood from his nose was wiped away or dried and it didn’t seem to be broken. “Um, hi.”

“Jim? What are you doing?”

“Uh, nothing!” He squeaked, and stumbled out. The top of his case smacked against the back of his head, getting a wince from Tango. “Just got- got lost in the dark. The store was closed.”

“Closes at dinner time.” Tango pointed out.

Jimmy’s face went red, looking away. “Yeah... Sorry.” He eyed the trailer warily. “Is she mad?”

“Don’t think so.” Both moved to the picnic table. For once Tango thought he must look more tired than Jimmy. Something had torn open one of their chip bags while they were gone, the crumbs strewn about. Jimmy paused to wipe out towards the bushes, then plopped down with his arms slung over his guitar case.

“Do you wanna set up the tent?”

“Mmm, too much work now.” Tango would much prefer the air mattress to the table, but he was drunk and it was almost midnight.

There was a moment where Jimmy leaned back, puttering a three note beat against his case. “She yell at you? She said she was gonna go yell at you.”

A noise escaped Tango, too much of a reaction to deny it.

“Sorry for whatever she said. She likes playing big sister, all brave and smart. Forgets she fell from the same tree.”

“Nah, I ran my stupid mouth, I probably deserved it.” Tango shook his head, also leaning back.

There was a shift, and Tango felt the guitar bump his hand. “You know I was hanging out with Skizz today.”

“Yeah?”

“Made me think.” He hummed, not continuing until Tango nudged him back. “I know why we’re here. To make Lizzie and Scott famous. But... I don’t know why you guys are here.”

Tango blinked. He turned to look at the other man, who’s face darkened as he realized what he said. “Not like- I mean- Not that you don’t deserve it or anything-”

“No, I get what you mean.” He snorted, a bit lost in memories. Old ones from when they first met in college, new ones of Zed leaving and the girls joining. Promises they made to Pearl as they worked up professional contracts for the first time in their so-called career and sombre conversations between just him, Impulse and Skizz.

“You can’t say this to Gem.” Is all he asked, tone a bit desperate. Jimmy made a small noise, an agreement. Tango sighed. “Truth is, this is probably our last gig.”

Jimmy didn’t seem surprised.

“Dunno what we’re gonna do after this. Maybe we’ll make one last album, maybe we’ll leave how it is. Depends on how we feel I guess. Been living our whole lives doing this first and everything second. And not that I ain’t thankful for every minute of it, but, y’know. We ain’t rockstars. Got bills to pay and jobs to start taking seriously. Impy and Skizz do, at least. And if I can’t play with them I ain’t sure I wanna.”

He shifted his position, pulling his legs up to chest to rest his chin on them. “Honestly, we were thinking about it a few years back, after Zed left for his career. Then we met Gem, though, and- well, you met her. Shines like the sun. Something about her. She’s gonna be a star, we all knew it.” A smile sneaked onto his face, remembering the first time they heard her sing. “Never had big dreams like you guys, but we loved what we did and she loved playing with us. It was different, but it was like the good old days where it mattered. But life’s been catching up. I guess we just wanted to do one last big show together, something to remember. Y’know?”

It seemed like Jimmy did. At least, that’s what Tango hoped his sleepy smile meant.

Tango relaxed himself running a hand down his face to try and keep himself awake until their bandmates got back. “Told Pearl already, back when we signed her on. Don’t expect this too last too long. But we’re still trying to find a way to break it to Gem. Think she suspects it, but it’s still hard.”

“What about you?” Jimmy asked. Had he always been sitting that close, or had one of them scooched over in the breeze?

“Hm?”

“You said, Impulse and Skizz have plans. But what about you?”

There he was, a fish drowning in the sea. The question he’d not even realized he’d been avoiding. Imp and Skizz had full time jobs and family and homes, Gem and Pearl had their whole careers ahead of them, and he had- what? “That’s the question, ain’t it.” He murmured, suddenly feeling quite lost as he stared up at the night sky through the trees.

It wasn’t as though he’d taken their band any more serious than the rest of them, but somewhere along the way they’d all managed to build their own lives between the margins. Probably while he was passed out after playing roller coast tycoon all night or doing one of his other dozen going-nowhere hobbies.

A hesitant hand slipped onto his shoulder, massaging comfortingly. It brought Tango back down from wherever he was floating off to a lot easier than he’d ever like to admit. Jimmy didn’t bother to say anything. Not that he didn’t seem to want to. Nothing ever quite made it out until his mouth snapped back shut into a sympathetic smile. He didn’t have to. For once Tango thought he could understand. He really hoped it wouldn’t be the only time. It felt good.

Leaves ruffled and there was a loud, familiar whining. Both men stood up in time to watch Impulse drag Gem and Skizz under each arm into camp. “Almost there, guys.” He announced, shoulders falling as he spotted Tango and Jimmy.

They put the new pair to bed first against their whining and waved Impulse off. The little sleep demon in Tango’s mind screamed to finally get into bed. He heard Jimmy’s laugh when they both collapsed, creating a bounce back that shook the whole trailer and the pullout off the ground. “You’re makin’ breakfast, by the way.” Tango grumbled, already curling up against his cuddle buddy.

“Not fair!”

“Shh.”

Just as he drifted Tango heard a strange little whistle. Please birds, let me get at least a few hours of sleep, was his last thought as he drifted off.

[trulytiredhermit]

I have a wonderful idea. ( i always do, it's the confidence darling. )

Think about this, the reader from the modern world who was a voice actor of one of the Links, one of the Zeldas or any other characters.

Bonus points if the reader's voice is wildly different from the said character that nobody will believe that they are the voice actor of that character until they actually do it.

But then the Yandere Links will ask how they are able to voice them and we'd probably give them an existential crisis if we told them..

"No because it's actually easy to change my voice to [Character], AHEM AHEM.."

*'The reader's voice change to a deep or a more higher pitch

[insert a line on how the character would typically introduce themselves in the actual game/show or how they think that character would introduce themselves]

I said "show" than just game because of Courage.

Of course the Cartoon Link and CDI Link would be there too, their reactions will be hilarious i just know it.

Oh jeez, all the boys would be having existential crises and/or reoccurring trauma depending on who Reader voices.

For example if the Reader voiced any character that members of the chain had been close to that they have a sad past with. Well, hopefully Reader is just nice about it and doesn’t bring it up. (Ahem Navi, Marin, literally ANY of the champions, etc).

However if Reader was one of the Link’s voice actor then I feel like it’d be absolutely hilarious. Reader would say the most outrageous things in their voice and just catch the chain, and the Link, in question off guard.

For example could you just imagine Legend and Reader arguing over something and then Reader just whips out Legend’s voice on him.

Legend: I did NOT say that! I said-

Reader: Oh horseshit! You said, and I quote,-

Reader, clearing their throat, now speaking with Legend’s voice: “The map says we should take the left path, there should be a chest in there somewhere with loot or a key. And because I’m sooooo smart and know everything you should listen to me. Blah blah blah,” And then what happened! The floor starting projectile vomiting tiles at us!

Legend, taken aback: … first of all, how the hell did you just do that and secondly, I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THE DAM-

————————————————————————

Or Reader having been Time’s voice actor and so they just use that to scare the rest of the chain or make Time laugh.

Like idk if y’all have heard the parody of Fly Me To The Moon, but Reader would DEFINITELY take advantage of Time’s voice to sing that parody.

Time, quietly cleaning his armor:…

Reader, coming from out of nowhere: Hey Time wanna hear a song from my people?

Time, sensing something’s wrong already: Oh, no that’s quite fine [Nam-

Reader: Great! Here is Fuck the Moon!

Time, fighting a grin off his face now listening intently: … you have my attention.

Reader, singing in Time’s voice:

Fly me to the moon.

And let me kick it’s fucking ass.

Let me show it what I learned in my moon jujitsu class

In other words

Catch these hands

In other words

Coward, fight me

Fill my heartless void

And let me see you explode

You are all I ever hated

So please just gooo!

In other words…

Fuck the mooooooooon

In other words..

I hate you!

Reader, out breath: so what’d you think?

Time, discreetly wiping a tear from his eye: Beautiful, absolutely perfect. I’m not even gonna question the voice thing right now.

———————————————————————-

Or like Wild and Wind are getting up to shenanigans and then they just hear Time’s disappointed voice from behind them like:

Wild and Wind getting up to stuff they shouldn’t:

Time’s voice sounding from behind them: And just what do you boys think you’re doing.

Wild and wind: !!!!!

They turn around only to see Reader holding back a grin and struggling to not break their composure.

Wild: Oh goddesses, I thought I was going to die a second time.

Wind: You’re telling me! That was worse then when Grandma and Aryll got mad at me.

————————————————————————

Time of course knows about Reader using his voice to prank the others and is all for it. That man is a prankster through and through and he is living for the chain being on edge not knowing if it’ll be him or Reader they encounter.

————————————————————————

Sad to say I’m not too familiar with the cringe Links but I know for fact that Reader would interrupt one of them with the “Well, excuuuuuuuuuse me Link!” And the Link in turn would just stare in betrayal and awe.

It’d turn into the Spider-Man’s pointing at each meme. Bonus points if Reader dresses up as them when they do it.

Also love the confidence darling, keep it up. 😂

[birgittesilverbae]

dads: libby's first breakup oh the teenage angst

"Hey, MJ," Mary says, leaning out into the garage. "Your dad just called wondering if you'd stopped by." 

Libby pushes her helmet up onto her forehead and takes a swig of water from the bottle resting on top of the net before responding. "What'd you tell her?"

"That you're here talking shop with Shan."

"Talking so much shop," Shannon agrees, flipping the puck up onto her stick blade and pulling it back and forth through the air in front of her with increasing speed. "All shop, all the time. Right, Libs?"

Mary rolls her eyes but can't keep her fond grin off her face. "Do you wanna have a chat about why you're actually here," she continues, turning her attention back to Libby, "or should we keep pretending you haven't been crying?"

Libby's shoulders sag. "You're not gonna let me choose the second option, are you?"

"If you wanted emotionally-stunted, you should've gone home. Come help me with dinner."

"Fine." Libby nods sullenly. "Fine. Thanks for shooting on me, Shan, and for the talk. I'll be in once I've got my pads off."

"Don't take too long," Mary cautions, and heads back into the kitchen. 

Shannon joins her a few minutes later, when she's got ingredients arrayed on the counter. She hugs Mary from behind, hooks her chin over her shoulder, kisses her cheek. "Be gentle with her," she says as Mary leans into her touch.

"I'm always gentle."

"I know, babe, but on this especially. She's very Bea in how she's going about it."

Mary clicks her tongue. "If that isn't the most concerning thing I've heard tonight. You sure you don't want to handle this?"

Mary can feel the stretch of Shannon's grin against her cheek. "The little shit told me I was, and I quote, 'probably too gay to be able to give helpful advice'."

Mary nods her understanding. "So it is boy trouble. Lily didn't seem sure. She was mainly just concerned MJ hadn't checked in with them all afternoon."

"You're not gonna defend my honour?"

"Was she wrong?"

Shannon pokes her hard in the side. "You know she wasn't."

"If it makes you feel any better, she said something similar to Bea that time she got in a fight with Kumquat."

"Caleb," Shannon corrects with a long-suffering sigh. "Honestly, you're all going to give that kid an identity crisis one of these days."

"Was it him?"

"No, no, no no no. She was clear on that, at least. But I know she's been hanging around with a couple of the guys on the boys' high school squad lately."

"The ones you've spent the past month bitching about?"

"The ones I wouldn't have a problem with if they didn't exemplify everything that's wrong with hockey culture."

"Ah." Mary's jaw goes tight. "Right. That's– I can see why she didn't go to those three for this talk."

Shannon hums her agreement. "I don't imagine there'd be a rational response in sight. And if this involves who I think it might, I don't know that I'll be able to respond appropriately."

"So it's up to me."

"So it's up to you." The door to the garage is flung open, loudly enough to be heard across the house, and Shannon flinches. "Thank you, darling. I'll get out of your hair." She kisses Mary's cheek and heads for the hallway.

Libby slumps into the kitchen in the wake of Shannon's departure, dropping onto a stool at the counter island with a heavy sigh. "What're we making?"

"Just a stir fry and rice, a side salad. Lots of chopping for you." Mary pushes the cutting board and chef's knife across the countertop to her, watches the stranglehold grip Libby puts on the knife handle. "Don't go stabbing the carrots."

Libby grumbles something under her breath, not quite loud enough for Mary to make out, but she loosens her grip enough that the colour flows back into her knuckles and aligns a head of broccoli on the cutting board. 

Mary sets up opposite her, hands making quick work of a row of chicken breasts while her eyes linger on Libby. "What's his name?" she asks after a few minutes of quiet chopping. "The boy?"

Libby's knife freezes in the middle of pushing florets to one side of the cutting board. "Carter," she replies, not meeting Mary's gaze. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Why not?"

Libby shrugs. "Because it's embarrassing? Because I was too stupid to see it coming?" She lays her knife down and scrubs at her eyes with the back of her hand. 

"What'd he do, MJ?" Mary pivots to the sink to scrub her hands clean. 

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." She shrugs helplessly. "I just– He said I was too smart for my own good, and didn't tell him anything, and–" her words disintegrate into low sobs that slowly climb in volume. 

Mary wipes her hands on the kitchen towel slung over her shoulder and circles the island. "C'mere, I got you."

"Everything sucks," she sobs into Mary's shoulder. 

Mary rubs her back, makes soothing sounds. "Yeah, that about covers it."

"I think I was in love with him, and he just–" Her hands clutch at the back of Mary's shirt. "He just–"

Mary huffs out a laugh. "No, you weren't." 

Libby pulls back, rubs a sleeve under her nose. "You don't know that," she says, voice pitching higher in anger.

"Hormones, MJ. God help you." 

 "It's real, I'm allowed to feel like this."

"You are. I'm not trying to minimise that." Mary steps to the side to reach for the tissue box. "You're allowed to be hurt by it, and sad, and miss him. That's normal. He just sounds like a dick, and if he's saying that shit to you then you're better off without him." 

"Is it supposed to hurt physically? Like, I feel like I took an elbow to the ribs or something."

"That's your body telling you you need to take a breath, babygirl. Nice and slow, like Shan taught you, alright? Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try," Libby forces out between ragged breaths. She flattens her hand over her diaphragm and takes a deep breath, the exact same way Mary's seen Shannon centre herself dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

"Well done, babygirl. What're you feeling for dessert? I think we've still got some of those brownies from the other night, if Shannon hasn't dummied the rest, or there's ice cream. Both together, even."

"I'm in season, Mary," Libby replies primly, picking up her knife again as though her face isn't still streaked with tears. All Mary can see is Beatrice all those years back, getting food on a table set for four instead of five, face damp and mouth drawn into a thin line. "No dessert except on game days."

"Pretty sure that's not a team rule. You deserve to give yourself a break once in a while, alright? Especially on a day like this. So, what's it gonna be? Ice cream or brownies or both?"

[hyenaswine]

my mom called me at 10:45 to say she'd slipped on the ice getting into her car & fell on her butt & lost her glasses but she didn't want to get back out & look for them, so she was just gonna drive to my house because we already had plans to go shopping. but then when she got to my house & i got in the car the conversation went like this:

mom: ......i just fell so i'm kinda confused. where are we going?

me: [store name]

mom: what's [store name]?

me: one of your favorite antique stores. we were going to buy a present for your sister because her birthday is tomorrow.

mom: ...what day is it?

me: january 20th

mom: it's january already???

this is very much Not like my mother, who is a very sharp & lucid person, so i said hey actually, you know what would be fun? let's skip the antique store & go to the emergency room, cuz you definitely have a concussion.

since my aunt lives right next door to me i went & got her too so i wouldn't have to deal with the crisis alone, then i drove the 3 of us to the ER. at one point in the car my mom got a call from an old family friend, one of the nurses who used to care for my grandfather, & i told her to just ignore it. "but something could be wrong with zeyde," she said, & that REALLY freaked me out cuz my zeyde's been dead since 2011. i didn't say "don't you remember he's dead????" but i just told her he was fine & nothing had changed with him.

anyway, she was already making more sense by the time we got to the ER & she got assessed by a doctor. he said she should have a CT scan just in case, so we ended up waiting about 4 hours for that which was excruciating, especially cuz we'd been planning to go to lunch so i hadn't eaten. but the CT was clear & showed no bleeding. so she's fine, just bruised & absolutely concussed, but her memory has returned. i swear she asked me if it was january about 50 times, along with "where's my purse?" (in the back seat) & "why am i sitting here?" (you're in the passenger seat because i am driving you to the ER because you hit your head).

when i drove her home at the end she made me search through the snow for her glasses & mailbox key which she'd apparently tossed when she fell, but we found those right away, so really everything worked out as best it could. now she doesn't remember her amnesia spell at all & keeps asking me to tell her about it.

but yknow. at least the 3 of us got to have a fun girls' day & get out of the house. at first my uncle was gonna come too but my concussed mother shouted "oh i don't want HIM to come 😡" which was such a delight to me personally.

[jjwho]

Which JJ Advice Do you Need to Hear Right Now

Pile1. Pile2.

Pile 3. Pile 4.

(These are all actually my own advice so no one steals okay, jk jk use my words wisely.)

♡

□

◇

♡

Pile 1

"One life, one chance, a world that doesn't care."

Okay so what that means is that you only have 1 life to live and one chance to do whatever you do and have the best shot and a world that doesn't care about anything.

The world cares too much about themselves so go for it, like one day who ever saw you doing this thing that you think is embarrassing is gonna die and not be able to tell everyone again.

Plus ay I don't think Earth can make it another Decade so it don't matter and you'll be dead to, so you won't feel embarrassment.or regret or anything. So go for what you want to go for now and ja. Live laugh love ig.

♡

♤

◇

Pile 2

"Let disasters happen and lets build it up again."

Okay so what this gemeans is. Bad things is bound to happen. Good things wouldn't exits without bad things and bad things wouldn't exits without good things okay. So let the shitty moments happen. Maybe that's what you're going through a life crisis, but when it all breaks down you have space to build a new and more stable and better place(could be place, home, person, situation) so let it fall and let new and better come in. I know its hard but if you ket it happen and you look back you'll be happy with the results.

♡

◇

♧

Pile 3

"The New Souls Innocent, don't hurt it."

So what I meant by this is that if you meet a person who hasn't done anything wrong or you meet someone new who doesn't know anything, or someone who's having a good day and trying to be nice cause that all it knows, don't be a bitch and hurt that poor thing. You're gonna continue the cycle of bitchy people meet innocent people and become bitchy. Like bro let the new innocent soul yk rub its essence on you, You can still be you, but have reason when you're being harsh. Not to people who's trynna be nice. And if someone's doing that to you, avoid them. And stay positive hoe.

♤

□

◇

Pile 4

"Life does not life around shitty people"

Wow I love how the previous pile was about shitty people nit being nice and me saying hey stop it and this pile is about staying away from shitty people.

Okay so, don't do that kak where you stay with shitty people because, "oH hE nEeDs hEaLing" "nO I cAn fIX hER"

Shut up.

Honestly.

No one asked for you to heal them

No one asked you to be with them

You're healed so why you trynna hurt yourself again by being around them. No one was there for you when you were healing, and you're fine now. Unless you're not and trynna run from fixing yourself by "trying" to fix someone else. Just stop ew. Once you realize that being around people with a good energy and aura and people who are good and kind is so much more better then everything will be fine.

Just wake up and leave them. It's best for you, not me I don't care.

.

.

.

Okay I hope everyone enjoyed there advice from my iconic advices, but ja take them seriously.

Byeee

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Sorry if you’re offline or just don’t want to see this but I has question:

As the resident hurricane family mother, how does one healthily cope with sadness, depression, and self-blame? Because most of us are dealing with these and I have absolutely no healthy coping mechanisms, so I was wondering if you’d know anything?

I was just offline because of work, that’s all. 👍🏻 This is kind of difficult to answer but I will do my best. Please reblog this, lovelies, and add your own healthy coping mechanisms so we can have as much good advice in a post as possible. ❤️ I’m gonna ask y’all to bear with me and read this whole answer because some things might sound like “meh that’s not for me” but if you stop reading then you won’t find other things that might help.

First, my faith is a big pillar of strength for me. I know not everyone shares my beliefs, but if you have any inclination to try and pray at all, prayer helps so much. Not because it gives you an instant fix, but because it gives you an ear to talk to, it can let you scream and cry and breathe and listen and reorient. God’s always listening. ❤️ If anyone is ever unsure how to pray or anything of the sort, you can always ask. ❤️

Now as I said, not everyone shares my beliefs, and there are so many coping mechanisms out there! Journaling your thoughts helps you put them out of your mind and onto something you can look at and physically touch. It gives you a moment to pause and reread it and parse it out. I find exercise helps me a lot too - and I’m not even saying you need to go to the gym or punch the air, just a walk makes a world of difference. Can’t go outside? Pace back and forth and listen to music. I put in so many steps I sometimes “walk” for miles just from pacing back and forth.

Find yourself a support system. I have different people who I go to for different things. My family is always there for me but I don’t always tell them everything that’s bothering me. And I don’t have to! I actively avoid telling them some things because I don’t want them to worry, but I will tell others. Different people can be there for you in different ways. I have work friends who go through hell with me and we can talk about it with each other because we get it. I have close friends who may not understand what I’m going through but can still lend an ear when I’m at a breaking point and can either let me vent or offer me support. I have my family who honestly just knows the periphery of big stressors for me but can read when I need to be alone and when I need love.

Know your limits. We all want to be everything for everyone. We all want to help and support each other. But sometimes things are too much. Sometimes you can’t be in righty places and have energy for six other people in crisis and still put a smile on your face. Know when to step away and take a break. Know when to put down the phone, or not contact that one person who drains you more than usual, or avoid that one place that’s going to stress you out.

Know when something is or isn’t in your control. Sometimes your brain is garbage and makes you feel that way. Understand what that is - stress, trauma, faulty wiring (darn neuro chemicals), hormones - and understand that you can’t necessarily stop the reaction but just ride the wave. Some days all you want to do is lie in bed. Those are the days to each out and say “hey can someone poke me to get up and brush my teeth/eat/drink.” Some days everything makes you think you’re a failure. Recognize that it’s your brain being stupid and say “all right, fine, I feel like shit, doesn’t mean it’s true. So anybody want to tell me what they see in me? What makes me a good person/friend/writer/artist/whatever I need to hear?” Recognize that your perception of yourself is not what the world sees, and recognize that when you’re lost in a fog and depression has you blindfolded in the dark, others are not blindfolded and therefore can see you for the beautiful person that you are.

Let your mind rest! Read something you enjoy. Draw! Watch a movie! Whatever makes you happy.

Have a creative hobby. Something that you can look at and smile and be like “I made/free that!” Gardening, sewing, writing, art, something with an end result that you can see and touch.

All right, that’s most of the stuff I do or have been told to do. Now reblog, lovelies, and add your own advice if you like!

[silvertws]

Can I interest you in some Ruined Reality theories in these trying times?

I'd usually just make a yt comment about theories but eh...

Anyhow.

Last episode guys.

Like I was fine. I expected some Steves to die but nooooo.

Everything went fine ...

UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE.

LITERALLY THE LAST MINUTE.

Not even kidding. My heart, ouch.

Anyhow.

Enough rambling.

Theories:

So. What was the funky blue Steve? Probably an amalgamation of all the souls tougher.

Since the Soul Eater wasn't there to eat the souls, they just formed an entirely new entity.

Now, what does this mean? Did everyone's soul get absorbed? Is everyone dead???

Nuh-uh.

I'm sure Light, Corrupt,( I literally could be saying the wrong name because I can never for the life of me remember the Soul eater minions),Void, and Soren are alive and probably all the Steves infected by darkness because we know darkness countered the Soul Eater. So theoretically...they should be good.

Light is alive due to having Soulless.

Corrupt well. Should be alive? Or maybe his energy also got yoinked by the soul amalgamation.

Now what about Louis, Cliff... Etc? So... Uhm...

Louis could be alive??????? Like he has the rainbow crystal, I'm pretty sure the crystals are made with the souls of the most powerful Steves of that color are they not? And I don't know if the machine can suck out the soul from "things" so hey. Maybe he's ok?

Yellow leader has darkness so maybe????

Cliff and General Proxima have darkness scars so eh...

Anyway.

What's gonna happen now?

Well.

Light has to have his usual existential crisis.

Then he's probably going to try and fix this.

How?

Well... Alliance with Void of course and Toxic (Soren) because theoretically, let's say everyone else is gone. Who is he going to go to for help???

Exactly.

Oh also like, Purple Steve is probably alive? Like the Indigos cause maybe they already went back to the in-between when the machine went off?

SNOWY

NOOOOO

THE REALIZATION.

Nah I refuse to believe the machine stole Snowy's soul.

Like the Soul eater didn't eat animal souls right?

It is true that a machine isn't exactly the same...

And the amalgamation probably isn't either.

Now.

Is the amalgamation evil?

Nah, from my understanding, it being a smoothie of souls just means it's probably just a very freaking confused creature who doesn't exactly have a will of its own??? Like it's probably gonna roam around, confused...

Which brings me to another thing.

So Corrupt.

If he survived.

He's probably the only one who could actually make use of all those souls other than maybe Light??! Cause Soulless.

Now now. I don't know if Corrupt can absorb Souls like The Soul Eater BUT.

the Soul Eater probably did have a plan B, just in case. Soooooooo... Maybe?

Corrupt main villain trying to absorb the souls?

Light probably needs to find a way to free said souls, how???????

Hell if I know.

Reversing the machine..???? But he doesn't know where it is I think..? So he'd have to get the information out of Corrupt and even after that, how does he fix it? I don't remember Light being particularly skilled in machinery.

Maybe he could get the assistant to help? Because he has no soul so it's probably still uh... Functioning?

But yeah, alliance Void-Light maybe fixing Soren...? But I don't know when or how that would happen, not even sure if it's going to be during this arc, maybe the one after.

Probably gonna have more to say eventually but this is it for now.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

One more thing because I'm literally walking rn and I have a side note.

Now it's entirely possible that the machine didn't actually absorb the souls of the Steves there but it just combined the souls that were already like, gone, maybe without the Soul eater instead of the souls being freed, the machine just kept them together.

But this theory is a biiittt stretched out.

[erin-rosita]

RISK IT ALL

(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)

CHAPTER 2 EVERYBODY!

2 MIGUEL O'HARA

You woke up this morning feeling so heavy on your eye. Feels like the whole multiverse is about to unravel straight out of it. 

But then your spidey sense kicked in.

Flashes of the Spiderman trying to get into your universe creeped up in your mind. You need to be ready.

She can pinpoint the exact location where they'll be coming from, should she confront them head on? or should she ambush them?

She's in good terms with the police so backup should be good, but she don't want to cause panic, arrggh, why is she overthinking this?

Okay, stay calm, The best thing to do now is to keep her composure and handle this as calm as possible, don't panic, if she panics, so will the city. 

"Found a loophole.", Lyla confirms.

"Get a squad ready for backup in case things get messy. I'm going in."

Miguel has seen everything for all he knows,  so this should be easy.

As he enters the portal,

"No anomalies on sight, we'll just do a quick scan of the spiderman in the vicinity and invite them to the society and call it a day, now where is that spide-.."

She stood right in front of the portal, confronting, her one eye stern, unmasked, but stood tall. 

"Who are you and why are you here?", she says with confidence.

"I'm Miguel O'Hara, Spiderman of Earth 928B, I lead an elite strike force dedicated to the security of the multiverse, and I'm here to recruit you."

He unmasks himself. Probably to give her some assurance that he's not a bad guy because of his good looks, not gonna lie he is pretty, but he still has that menacing look.

She raises a brow, "Yeah I'm going to need a lot more information than that buddy." She crosses her arms towards her chest.

 "You can have all the information you need if you come with me." Miguel says impatiently.

 

"Hey I'm the one asking questions here! You're the one that snuck in MY universe!"

"Oh yeah? Well why are you hiding it in the first place? Because if you didn't then we wouldn't be having this conversation, instead you would've just joined and helped us plenty with the multiverse in crisis!"

"Oh it's hidden for a good reason, to rid my universe off of all this multiverse nonsense, and my world is doing just fine until an anomaly killed my dad!"

The silence was deafening from that very second.

Miguel was caught off guard. You stood your ground, yet he sees your eye filled with anguish. 

You broke the silence,

"Peter says its a canon event, and I know plenty about it. I'm not going stand by and watch anymore people get hurt by this.", You followed.

"And that's why we are here, to make sure that these anomalies go back to where they came from, and stop them from wandering to the wrong universe. We can't do that without your help.", Miguel replied.

You weren't aware at all that Miguel was holding you close on your shoulders to avoid yourself from falling onto your knees of how much it hurt for you to unravel just like that towards a man you just met. 

"How bad is it? The crisis?"

"A kid is attempting to break a canon event, and created a powerful entity that wants to destroy the kid's universe and potentially every other universe. Want me to keep going?"

"That bad huh, hope I'm not too late."

"We could use all the help we can get."

You sigh."Let's do it."

"Good."

Into the Spiderverse you go.

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

Late update, sorry. But here it is! Should I add some illustrations too? What do you think?

[puppyluver256]

I can't pretend it's not happening anymore, soooo...

[Image Description: An anthropomorphic dog with cream-colored fur and tan muzzle/ears is sadly pulling along a red wagon. They have short brown hair and blue-grey eyes. They are wearing a tan hat with colorful buttons on it, a purple t-shirt, a dark blue jacket with turquoise accents and colorful buttons attached, blue denim shorts, and black slip-on shoes with white soles. There is a box in the wagon with the words "all my junk" handwritten on the side facing the viewer. The background features green grass and a blue sky with two white clouds. White text outlined in black over the image reads as follows: "hey guess what - I'm Moving Tomorrow - it's gonna suck and I'm gonna hate it but I can't get out of it now so I guess everything's getting hectic"]

This has been roughly seven months coming, and while I have been at peace being in my home as a solo resident in that time, it's unfortunately finally time for me to make the move as well. Not gonna lie, I still don't want to move, especially to the location that I'm having to move to. Not only is it in the middle of goddamn nowhere because my dad is finally having his midlife crisis and wanted to play farm boy again without any consideration for anyone else's wants and needs, but it's in a specific location that I never wanted to be in ever again for multiple reasons, and now I'm going to be stuck there likely for the rest of my life because I still have no stable income despite my best efforts. I'd honestly rather move states entirely if I had the option, but it feels like once you're born in a small town in a southern state (what I refer to as the "shallow south" because it's north enough to count as the middle of the US in my book but official region lines dictate it's part of the south I guess) you're stuck there forever and ever and it's honestly torturous for someone like me.

So yeah, if I go quiet for a bit, it's due to me getting my stuff settled in where it needs to go and also getting myself settled into what I have been not-so-affectionately referring to as The Suck House. (not that it's the house that sucks as a standalone thing, mind, it's perfectly fine and honestly has improvements over current house but it's just in a very very very wrong location for my mental health) I'll try to let you guys know how I'm doing, and I might share pics of the two rooms I had a direct hand in finalizing, but yeah.

Things are gonna get rough on my end.

[eluxcastar]

hey! request for headcanons on urd and rigr as a father (specifically if they had a daughter)?

With a daughter.

FEATURES: urd geales, rígr stafford

CW: none

WC: 670

NOTES: Rígr's non-deadbeat Dad arc

can’t believe seeing this in my inbox single-handedly ended my impromptu hibernation (ノ*°▽°*) I���m gonna try and post more lmao

urd geales

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Strict, definitely, in bed by nine p.m. smh ruins all your fun (︶︹︺) haAUSHW

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Single Father of two kids and a suspiciously human-like house cat (only one of those three is an actual child mentally and physically; spoiler alert it’s you)

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 He probably just wants the best for you ngl, good grades and plenty of friends, though also likely not good at communicating that those rules of his aren't meant to punish you. He might need to work on it (_ _;) ♡

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Unfortunately he's likely a somewhat distantly Dad too, busy, tries to make time, but probably can't show up for everything (￣▽￣*)ゞ

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Does his best to account for that though, lets you stay with him while he works sometimes, as long as it's not too dangerous like he'd never take you to Japan and let you witness 106 that shit is too traumatic (ﾟ▽ﾟ*)

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Honestly I can kinda see him smothering you a bit (_ _;) poor guy probably doesn't really want to face the prospect of you growing up and becoming independent

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Like, you always needed him before, and then suddenly you don't anymore?? That's gotta hurt man (╥﹏╥)

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 If you ask you don't have an Uncle you haven't met, Rígr who ヽ(｀⌒´)ﾉ

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 He has that ‘You love him and you’re pretty sure he loves you but it’s hard to connect with him’ kinda thing going on?? Like it’s not as if he’s distant newspaper Dad but he’s definitely not play football in the yard Dad either help, he has his own ways of communicating affection even if it’s just to spend time with you.

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Anyway he’s been sitting you on his lap for like twelve years at least, one day he’s gonna try and get you to sit there and you’re not gonna fit anymore (_ _;) existential crisis time go

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 He’s probably going to need a talking to once you’re older about the fact that you’re not five anymore because he’s gonna have a little trouble processing that fact, give him a sec he’s swimming in Egypt because he is in denial (￢_￢) literally the worst joke I’ve ever made bye

 rígr stafford

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Went out for milk fifteen years ago and hasn't been back since /j

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Nah he's probably an ok Dad (ﾟ▽ﾟ*) not the worst, not the best either, trying his best and working on it but who knows how much trauma you're gonna get it's a toss game (¯▿¯)

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Raising a gremlin child and is absolutely running with it 💀

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Who the heck even knows if your Mother is still there, single Dad trying his best be like  (ﾟ▽ﾟ*) actually he probably adopted his kid wait that gives me an idea

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Definitely keeps you well out of his affairs though, you have no place knowing about the finer details of his work or having people involved in his work know about you

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Wouldn't be surprised if he'd take you to the orphanage sometimes when he visits, lets you play with the other kids, or just stay home sometimes

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 He's fine leaving you home alone if he thinks you can manage, but of course you can (*￣︶￣) you're his daughter after all

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Definitely proud Dad, chronically holding himself back from boasting any and all achievements ♡

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Contrary to Urd, you'd most definitely have an oversees Uncle you haven't met but god damn you keep having to hear about him (_ _;) your Grandfather though? Lmao what Grandfather ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Supreme bedtime story teller I don’t make the rules, even if you so happen to grow out of bedtime stories you’re getting tucked in every night ♡ he probably lets you fall asleep on the couch some nights too and just leaves you with a blanket so he doesn’t disturb you

⊹ ִֶָ𓂅 Despite that I imagine you’d have to become a pretty independent child, can entertain yourself, a bit of self-discipline, probably know how to make yourself a sandwich in case you get hungry, get yourself home after school (⇀‸↼‶) it’d probably become a pretty normal thing though

[asksoldieron]

WTF Are We Doing Here? (Pinned Intro Post!)

This is my website!

My comments are broken! You know what works slightly better than WordPress comments? Tumblr! My few readers are already here and I'm lookin' for more! So, screw it, time for a side blog!

HEY, TUMBLR! FREE BLORBOS RIGHT HERE! AND NARY A ONCELER AMONG THEM!

"Are they traumatized?" I hear you say. YES! God, yes.

"Are they neurodivergent?" I hear you say. YES! AND SO AM I!

"Do they fuck?" I hear you say. YES! But not here, because the algorithm will eat me if they do. I want to be seen! There will be language and probably violence and queerness and political opinions, but don't get me in fucking trouble, Tumblr. I'm gonna get enough flack for the queerness. I'm very fragile. Be nice.

So! Let me babble for multiple paragraphs trying to explain myself to strangers on the internet, like usual!

This is Milo. If this blog functions the way I want it to, I'll make you some nice reaction images eventually, but Milo in shadow-puppet form will suffice for an example.

Milo says: I don't want to be an example!

Too bad! If you want to talk to Milo, use the ask button and address him by name. He lives in my brain, they all do. I'll get him for you. I'll make him talk.

Milo says: WHAT? *faints*

Well, Milo prefers to communicate in text and images for the time being, so we'll omit the quote marks for him, unless something changes.

Milo says: What? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY CHANGE?

Who knows? It's a very long serialized story and there's lots of character development. That's the fun part! Fixate on, I mean, be very normal about a character and get more and more and more content about them, watch them grow and change and develop relationships, scream at me and at them when you feel like it, and just keep doing that until I get bored or die. What's not to like?

For the moment, I'm the only one working on this story, and I can't afford to hire help, so we're not talking about flawless quality here, but it's free! (Or pay what you want.) So, please,

🌈Lower Your Expectations!🌟

Yay! There are a lot of site issues and there's only so much I'm able to do to fix it. Typos that look like words are my moral enema. If something is so broken you can't read it or understand it, or if I've really hurt you, please drop me a line (via the message box, if it's not for publication) and I'll do what I can. Otherwise, if you like this content and want more, be kind.

I'm autistic and high-masking so you will be speaking to the public-relations version of me. It's as buggy as my site! I'm just gonna be relentlessly positive about everything! Unless I can't. That's not necessarily your fault, but sometimes I can't. So if you're a little ND too, and a lack of response makes you crater - If I don't answer it's probably not because of anything you did. I got a lot on my plate and social ability is always the first thing to go.

Milo says: Preach, Sibling.

The versions of Milo and the others you'll meet will not be the canon versions, nor will their interactions here affect the story. So go nuts!

Milo says: What? No! Be nice to me too!

And, naturally, these versions exist in a context-free void where they can chat happily with strangers from another universe, even if the real ones would freak out and scream

Milo says: You can't mess around with my brain so I can't feel fear! Oh, my gods! I NEED my brain!

No, no. I'm only making sure you don't have an existential crisis due to the context-free void.

Milo says: Oh. Yeah. That's not a big deal. The context-free void has hot chocolate and snacks.

Right, so we're not hurting them. It's fine! It'll be perfectly safe!

Milo says: Yay❤️!

I'll do another post and give you the lowdown on myself and the main cast, including aliases and pronouns. Or, if you've tripped over this out there in your feed, you could always just go read the darn story. It'll take a while. There's a lot of it already. But we'll be here waiting for you! (Don't comment at the site. Are you reading me? You're on Tumblr, you are here to read. Maintain your reading comprehension at all times! The comments are fucking broken.)