#if this makes u mad then maybe reflect on why that is lol

[feyndothur]

real talk ratonhnhaké:ton's name isnt hard to say u bitches are just lazy and white

[speltfields]

NO WAAAYYY YOUR NEW WIP 😭😭😭😭 YOURE TRYING TO KILL US !!!!!

and about music he listens to it's so hard for me to decide some genre i've listened to all the shane playlists on spotify and i can't decide

what about you????

-🫶 anon

ok so first off to my non stardew followars (sorry) im gonna start tagging everything with #sdv posting so u can blaclklist. love u

answer under the readmore to save u all from the harmful psychic rays of my thoughts

i habe been thinking about the answer to this question for SOOOO LONGGGGG because i feel this has layers like here's all the different factors I have to consider

[and willfully ignore because hes my wet pathetic doll i can do whatever i want with]

1. stardew takes place in like the 80's yeah? 🤔🤔🤔 i ignore this one most of the time. giving them cellphones is funny. its the 2020s they all just have bad cell service and dial up still

2. emilys 8 heart event shane dresses like a punk. Dude gives off "i wanted to be a goth in middle school but couldnt afford tripp pants from the mall but now im an adult and too lazy to try" vibes. maybe his music taste reflects this

3. Umm he's "old" Lol (affectionate) I see him like late 30's early 40's...

4. But is he like COOL old or THINKS hes cool old (important distinction you have surely been around both types of men before and know the difference)

these are all of the factors i have to consider when choosing what music he would listen to.. the like "game takes place during the 80s" thing is the rule i play fast and loose. I only care about it if its funny contextually. usually its funnier if its not the case. Anyways onto the actual headcanons

I think shane would have pretty bad taste in music but once u are friends with him he's open to listening to new stuff and if you show him something new he hadn't heard before he'd say "Huh you're kind of weird aren't you 😏" making fun of you for it but secretly he'd think it was good/ he is def open to listening to new stuff. He secretly does like old school country as well. Noone knows this. You discover john denver/johnny cash cds buried under his bed (he listens to them to feel cool)

I think he would believe he had an eccentric music taste but then you'd go through his collection and its like... weezer. rhcp. maybe some metal. and ur like. This is Dad Rock Radio Tier and he'd be like "WHAT green day isnt dad rock" (i dont believe this yet but id say it to him anyway to make him mad. you understand)

you'd show him some shit like roswell kid and he'd go crazy for it even though its kinda cheesy. also he's randomly into stuff like aphex twin too.

I feel compelled to make him listen to the music i like but i know that that's wishful thinking. he's a dork that's why i like him. i might have to compound on this later when my brain works better (it takes me several weeks to form a single creative thought)

I haven't listened to any shane spotify playlists maybe i should... i do have my own playlist of songs that REMIND me of him but not necessarily stuff i think he'd listen to. I'm too embarrassed to post this 😈

[james-fun-in-the-sunderland]

pt 2 . still vicky. 31, 35, 40, 51, 67, 69. 🙄

NO need for all of these rolling eyes SMH... u didnt evven have to send these sirrrr

ANYWAY link back to the 69 ttrpg asks i GUESS

31. do they respond well to praise? how about criticism?

as said in the last ask he does respond well to praise however it all depends on WHO is praising and how OVERT and how OFTEN... praise him too much and he'll get MAD but praise him too little and he will also get mad, he doesnt respond well to criticism. if you criticise him too much he may actually completely hate ur ass, but thats if he thinks it isnt deserved and EVEN THEN he will still get annoyed like whatever man >:/

35. when did they feel loneliest?

i feel like this ones a LITTLE obvious but while his mom was in the hospital probably! his childhood home would be all empty he'd have no one to come home to and he would only come home after doing jobs and visiting her so he had no time for literally anyone or anything else, not that he really had the energy for anything else anyway, at least after she died he would go out and just talk to anyone off the street but while she was still alive it was just him and a dying woman while he pushed away anyone else bc he felt extremely vulnerable during this time too (he was also like. 25 so he was also just dealing w being a young adult and all the angst there so . he was NOT doing well)

40. if you had to remake this character right now, how would you change them?

GOOD QUESTION id probably make his hair different, change his backstory a lil and quite a few scars ! alot of stuff w him is either in active development or straightened out so id probably change more of the actually established stuff ... maybe give him a different clothing style, make him more outward with some traits like his musical ability... hmmm this is such an interesting q

51. what element of their backstory are you proudest of?

ALOT OF IT im always very proud of my lil characters backstories hehe... i try to make them all make sense for the person a character has developed into and i feel like vickys especially really reflects that, if i really had to choose one aspect it would be how death just follows him all throughout his backstory, people dying annd leaving him left and right making him really feel surrounded by it ya kno... not even just with the obvious stuff like ALOT of his childhood friends end up dying lmao its just fun themes ...

67. do they consider themselves to be special?

NO absolutely not, hes literally described himself as just another average joe DESPITE COMPLETELY NOT BEING ONE . this man cannot die and works for like 5 different mobs and yet hes like nah im just a normal single father man, idk why ur saying im so weird. he also just gets weirded out by the idea of someone finding him so special... ofc he really would love to be special in a way he can control, i suppose thats really it huh, he really loves control and if people find him special for his deathlessness or anything its like... ok but he doesnt CONTROL that... he can control his talents though so if someone found him special for that hed be like YEAH literally im so cool

69. what’s one secret they don’t want getting out?

the classic. lets go through the obvious ones, his deathlessness, even though its an open secret he really doesnt like people talking about it, his crime too of course but he doesnt even care that much about that either, like even less, his daughter even knows and has talked abt how he kills people for money so... his whole past is a secret even to his daughter bc hes just a private person... i suppose also the main one would be his real name (for people who dont know his real legal name isnt actully vicky love, its louis cox! ( louis pronounced louey bc hes french lol)) he started fully going by vicky when his mom died so he just doesnt like to be called louis bc it reminds him of his 'past life' ... hes got alot of secrets huh... these are really the only things he DOESNT want to get out tho, most other things hes private about he doesnt really care if people learn it

[remcycl333]

you don’t need to be happy to be manifest!! but...

who doesn’t want to be happy?

(long post alert, sorry in advance lol. but please read it all the way through, i really think it’ll be worth it<3)

ok, to preface this, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. i’ve manifested great, positive things while i was in depressive episodes. i manifested wonderful things with tears streaming down my face. BUT, i think something a lot of people overlook is that it’s really beneficial to feel positively about your desires.

this is something i realized a few months ago, saw great results from, and then forgot all about and, well, stopped seeing the progress i wanted. but i’m back on track now, don’t you worry.

(i’m going to be using the example of my sp, bc that’s what i have the most experience with, but this applies to literally anything u r manifesting) 

i’ve made a few other posts saying pretty much what i’m about to say in this next paragraph, so if you’ve already read those, i’m sorry for repeating myself. just bear with me lol. 

so i came to a realization a few months ago--and i don’t exactly remember how i came to this realization--that i kind of...hated my sp? like i fucking resented him. and i was like, wait a minute, that’s not right. i love my sp. that’s why i’m trying to manifest him! so why do i feel like this?

i used to focus on manifesting in steps, so naturally the first step was contact. so i’d be affirming all day every day “my sp is texting me right fucking now😡“ (and other variations) and then when he didn’t text me, it’d just make me angry at him. but technically, he didn’t even do anything wrong?? sure he didn’t text me, but he had no clue he was supposed to? idk it was all complicated and weird. and then when i wasn’t mad that he didn’t text me, i was having arguments with him in my head, preparing for some weird fight that my brain just assumed was going to happen whenever we did get into contact. which is weird, bc my sp and i never fight. like, this is my ex. yet i literally cannot tell you a single fight that we have ever had. we literally get along perfectly. we have never fought (or even argued) once in all the time that we’ve known each other. yet my brain was always fighting him. and it was just, exhausting?

and so one day, when i was troubleshooting, i realized: rem, if you were in a relationship right now with your sp, would u hate him? would u be constantly fighting with him? god i fucking hope not! 

now, what would i be thinking? i’d be laying in bed at night, hugging my pillow, thinking about how much i love him. reflecting on how happy he makes me, how perfect he is, how good he makes me feel. i’d be thinking about how he is the most perfect boyfriend i could ever have asked for. i’d be content after spending a long day with him, excited to spend the next day with him as well. 

and during the day i wouldn’t be wondering why he wasn’t texting me. if anything, i’d be wondering why he was texting me considering we were literally hanging out, together, at that very moment! 

i would trust him. i’d be walking on cloud nine. i’d be content. i’d be...happy. 

now, in no way am i saying that you need to be happy 24/7, or dancing on air, or feeling intense butterflies in your stomach. you’re allowed to have other emotions. you’re allowed to feel anger, you’re allowed to break down and cry! you’re allowed to have bad days. but if you’re feeling these negative emotions about your desire, i want you to try your hardest to release them. i don’t think any of us want to have breakdowns over our manifestations and cry about them, but if it happens, it happens. just pick yourself up afterwards--or stop it before it even really begins, trust me, it gets easier to do this--and maybe do a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, and remind yourself why you’re on this journey in the first place. once again using the sp example, it’s because you love your sp. because they are perfect for you! they make you happy. you love their smile, their laugh, the witty conversations you have with each other. you love being in their arms.  you love when they’re in your arms! they did something that made you fall in love with them, or want to be in a relationship with them. what was it? focus on that. 

enough with the sammy ingram (i could go on a whole rant about her) style affirmations. with the “he’s going to fucking text me, he has no choice, he’s my fucking boyfriend and he does what i say.” like....ew?? i used to say shit like this, and it was really what started making me resent my sp. i was ordering him around in my head, creating this weird dynamic between us (which, he wasn’t even aware was there), and getting mad when he wasn’t doing what i was ordering him to do. looking back, it was borderline psychotic. it was just turning it into me against him, and that’s not what i wanted at all. i want to be in a relationship with him, with mutual love. i don’t want to be his boss, or his mom, or his fucking military sergeant!! (i don’t even know if that was the proper term bc fuck the military, but u guys know what i mean lmfaooo)

(disclaimer if u use these types of affirmations and they work for you, go for it. but i used them for a while and they just weren’t it for me. carry on)

i guess what i’m trying to say is, those affirmations weren’t making me feel good. they weren’t making me feel like a “boss ass bitch”. they were making me feel...like a bitch. and strangely, powerless. i’d say these affirmations, or just bland ones where i wasn’t necessarily demanding my sp to throw himself at my feet and kiss my shoes and tell me he is nothing without me, and ultimately, if i wasn’t feeling resentment, i was feeling...nothing. 

once again, i want to make this so so so clear, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. but my belief? if your affirmations aren’t making you feel joy, or excitement, or contentment, then what’s the fucking point? if you think of your desire, and don’t feel positive feelings about it, then you might have lost your way a little. 

don’t worry!! it’s an easy fix. easy, and even...fun? rewarding? comforting? i just want you to take some time--laying in bed at night is the perfect time to do this in my experience--to think about why you want your desire so badly. do you want money? think of how great life is going to be once you have it. of all the stuff you’re going to buy, for yourself, and maybe even for others. don’t focus on the problems you want to fix with it right now. think of that clothing item you’ve had your eye on, or that book you’ve been wanting to read but haven’t felt like “wasting” money on. think of how excited you are to buy those things, because you’re going to! think of the good. not the bad.

remember: you create more of what you focus on. focus on the good, get the good. focus more on the bad...get more of the bad. 

your manifestation is done. it is created. it is on it’s way to you. it is here! all there’s left to do is feel excited. it’ll be here any moment now, how fucking exciting is that! it’s safe for you to be happy. it’s safe for you to focus on the feelings you would have if you had it, rather than focus on affirming specifically to bring it to you. it is safe to be happy. 

i used to affirm solely for contact, all day every day, and sometimes i’d get it. but it’d be short lived, my sp would be distant, etc. but then once i started focusing on truly living in the end and basking in my love for my sp, thinking about how perfect and amazing he is, i not only got contact (without having to specifically affirm for it), but he was actively engaged in our conversations, making up new topics to keep the conversation going, asking me about and expressing interest in my hobbies and interests, bringing up and reminiscing on old memories of our previous relationship, complimenting me, flirting with me, asking me to hang out, etc. shit i was not getting when i was “he is so fucking in love with me and he’s texting me right fucking now”-ing all day long. i started focusing on how amazing and perfect and good to me he was, and that’s exactly what i got in my reality. who would’ve thunk? 

and you know what? yeah, he fucking loves me. he misses me and he wants to be with me. but that’s a given. but that doesn’t fucking matter. i am the only person who matters in my reality!! sure he loves me, but do i love him??? that’s what the universe wants to know. that’s what truly fucking matters. the universe brings me my desires. so i’m gonna fucking desire it! 

guys, please trust me on this. just try it out, with whatever you’re manifesting. this could be what you’re missing. this could bring your manifestation to you. i promise, if you’re like i was and feel resententment or anger or hatred towards your desire, this is going to make you feel so fucking good. just stick with this for a week or two. i promise, you’ll see movement.

and remember, there is no one to change but self. don’t change them (or it), change your perception of them (or it). 

let’s make manifesting fun again!!! it’s the perfect tool to bring happiness into your life. so fucking let it!!!! 

so no, you don’t need to be happy in order to manifest. but....maybe, just maybe, prioritizing your happiness isn’t such a bad thing. i mean, who doesn’t want to be happy?

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

i am once again thinking about la squadra x reader high fantasy AU and im here to give y'all the deets of what i've thought of so far

kind of a dnd inspired setting, what im thinking is human reader got lost in a creepy forest and injured and chased by some Mystery Monsters (probably cioccolata and secco cause i always make them the scapegoats lol) and was happened upon by la squadra who took them in to let them recover from their injuries + maybe get some info on the Mystery Monsters encroaching on their neck of the woods + reader doesn't have anywhere else to go

la squadra are sort of a found family of assholes who didn't have anywhere else to go anyway so it's not like this is new to them lol

they live in an abandoned crumbling fort/very small castle? with a vast forest to the north, cliffs and rocky shoreline to the west, and a city further south

the exact reason for why the place was abandoned has been lost to time but people stayed away from it under the assumption that it was cursed when it was actually just fae sorbet and gelato who took up residence and decided to cause problems

risotto is a vampire and his vampire ability is his stand ability basically, he can control iron. he stumbled across the place in need of shelter and used his ability to keep sorlato in line (cause y'know, fae and iron), they struck up a friendship, the rest is history

prosciutto and formaggio are sorcerers (as opposed to wizards; they were born with magic inherent to them)

sorcerers have some sort of mark of their magic, idk about formaggio's yet but prosciutto has five eyes like the grateful dead. his specialty is shapeshifting, so often he keeps to having two eyes but sometimes he'll blink and then you'll have five eyes glaring at you and if he gets mad he turns purple and that fog starts rolling from the corners of his eyes lol. and he can sprout claws or teefs or shit like a scorpion tail on command (as well as, obviously, being able to age himself or others and back again). occasionally he'll fully shapeshift into an animal. do not suggest he turns into a horse to pull the wagon into the city or he will dust your ass.

formaggio is more on the charms and telekinetic side of magic. he'll often just zoop whatever he needs across the room into his hand, pulls out chairs, will occasionally magically drag his friends over to cuddle. you're not sure you've ever seen him just pick something up normally.

melone learned his magic through lots of studying. he and ghiaccio are werewolves (melone is good at tracking so like, wolf nose!!!!)

pesci is a selkie who wound up in a similar situation as you, he washed up injured on the shore to the west and decided to stay 🥺

illuso is a gorgon. the stone-turning thing is at will so no worries there lol. he ofc has a massive collection of mirrors and took up residence in the rookery tower to lurk over everyone and has a bunch of ravens as his little minions (they also send letters and such and are very good 😍) and he's named them all things that are reminiscent of mirrors: reflection, gleam, etc. if u thought prosciutto glaring with five eyes was a sight to behold wait til u see all illuso's snakes turn and hiss as one

they kinda just vibe. try to make a life for themselves. take up a lot of odd jobs as enchanters or alchemists (that's melone's specialty) and ofc, hired swords. and there's that trouble brewing in the forest that they're very sus of, but at least they have you

you absolutely have nine magic husbands lol

[clotpole-art]

Retrospective: Illustrated Merlin Alphabet Challenge

Finally finished the Merlin Alphabet Challenge, so here's the artist notes no one asked for! See below the cut for comments on each piece by order of creation. Be warned folks, it's a long post.

Before we begin: credit to @merlin-gifs for the challenge, which can be found here. It's awesome, go do it.

First thing you should know is I did probably 80-90% of these while on phone calls or in Zoom meetings and that's reflected in the simplicity of most pieces -- the compositions aren't complicated, the lines aren't refined, the coloring is slapdash. If you noticed variation in quality of the pieces, that's why!

Second: I tried to focus on trying something new for each drawing. Didn't always happen, but this challenge did succeed in helping me push me out of my own comfort zone.

Without further ado...

A is for Arthur Pendragon

Textures, baby! Brushed metal of his armor, scratchy linen texture of his shirt, wispy softness of hair and skin. I'd recently gotten my tablet out of storage after a year of figuring out where the hell I was going to live and this was one of the first pieces of digital art I spent time on. Glad it was Arthur kicking us off!

B is for the Beginning of the End (1x08)

Fun fact, I did not draw this with my tablet. I drew it with my work computer's touchscreen. It was awful, would not recommend.

C is for Camelot

I wanted to get used to different brushes, so landscape of the castle it was! There are brushes that help with drawing grass; I did not use said brushes and my wrist hurt afterward. That being said, I really enjoyed working on this and it was one of the few pieces I didn't do while multitasking.

D is for Daegal

Also drawn on my work computer's touchscreen, not my tablet. I didn't learn my lesson from B and the experience was even worse. This is my least favorite piece which sucks because it's Daegal so I'm slated to redo this sometime in the near future. Gotta do our boy justice.

E is for Elyan

Oh, I adored drawing this. Elyan often gets shafted in terms of fandom appreciation so I made sure to choose Elyan for this prompt and to participate in the Elyan fest. Plus, I love a good ghost story and figuring out a way to include the druid spectre was fun. Didn't multitask on this piece because Elyan deserved my full attention.

F is for Freya

Ho boy. This piece. I have such mixed feelings on this drawing. Really really didn't like it after I'd decided it was done and very nearly scrapped the whole thing. I had a vision in my head that I just couldn't render into reality and it frustrated me SO MUCH. Looking back, I like it much better than I did when I first created it.

G is for Gwaine

What can I say, he's pretty when he's cold. I didn't stretch too much with this one -- it's my normal drawing style, I was just trying to find a brush that mimicked the softness of pencil.

H is for Hunith

Another one that didn't stray too far from my comfort zone. I was stupid sick and slammed at work, so a motherly Hunith manifested herself. I blame the bad brush choice on the cold medicine.

I is for Isolde

I woke up and chose violence! Tried to vary my figure drawing style a little in this piece but my brain resisted, resulting in... this. Not mad at it, but not happy with it either. Poor Isolde.

J is for Juggling

Ah, this lovely piece was drawn during a particularly vexing meeting at work. Fun fact, there's another version of this line art that's less about Merlin's stress and more about mine.

K is for Knights of Camelot

Continuing the theme of doodling through bad news and shit meetings. Like I said above, normally meeting doodles aren't complex because I'm concentrating on something else. This one was more involved because I didn't want to concentrate on the meeting. I have a few issues with this from a technical standpoint (perspective, my nemesis) but it's still one of my favorites. Tried some funky coloring technique, didn't hate it.

V is for Vibrant Colors

And here is where we said fuck the rules and started going out of alphabetical order! This one was really fun to do and I loved kicking off Albion Party with this as my first submission. The colors were a challenge (as I hoped they would be) and this is the first time I had to do some color tweaking midway though and after finishing the coloring process. Vibrant Arthur, my beloved. This started as a multitask doodle but took dedicated time to finish.

O is for Old Religion

The concept for this one was buzzing in my head for a bit before a quote-prompt solidified it. I adore the thought of more visible, tangible representations of Merlin as the son of the elements, of "magic itself" -- not just sun-gold eyes, but sea-water hair and sandstone-skin. A complement to the vibrant Arthur portrait.

S is for Sorcerers

When I said I wanted to challenge myself, I wasn't kidding. Ho boy, this was fun but frustrating. I wanted to completely illustrate a gif. So I did. Will I do something like this again? Maybe. A while from now.

M is for Morgause

See above -- same illustrated gif style so at least I was able to reuse some drawings. Poor Morgause ended up looking a little wretched here because I was mentally done with this when I was drawing her. Love the concept of tarot cards + Merlin but others are doing it so I won't continue this series.

Z is for Zzzz

This one was specifically done to test out some custom brushes I made in Krita to make abstract background drawing easier for me. I think they turned out well! Plus who doesn't love bb iridescent Aithusa.

L is for Leon, P is for Percival

Quick, minimal doodles of the boys! Mentally, I was going for a Brady's-style retro ensemble cast TV show credits feel. Not mad at it! Some boys look closer to their actors than others (I think my brain broke drawing Percy, my apologies to Tom Hopper).

T is for Tristan

It wasn't until after I posted this that I realized there was more than one Tristan in Merlin. Could have drawn Isolde's bf but I drew Ygraine's dumb jock undead brother instead. Had some fun with dark greys and blacks here regardless.

Q is for Queen Annis

Best royal in Albion, bar none. I tried a different coloring technique here and I kinda like it! may make it my go-to but we'll see. Old habits are hard to break. Also: our queen deserved more badass clothes.

X is for Arthur X Merlin

Oh, be still my shipper heart. Doodled and colored during a meeting. I had hoped to spend more time on it outside of multitasking but alas, work is a bitch. This one is slated for a rework sometime in the future; I adore the concept too much to let it go without creating another version of this that isn't an utter mess.

U is for Uther's Ward

And here's my attempt at forgoing line art. Not fun, do not like.

Y is for Young Warlock

Channeled some pain into this one. Those are the dead eyes of someone who had been told that he'd succeeded when his friend died. That the destiny he'd been expecting to carry on his shoulders into old age was done and dusted before he turned 30. Grief plus the existential dread of the aimless immortal. Oof. One of my favs.

N is for Nimueh, R is for Rising Sun, W is for Will

And we end on this sorry offering. I was away from home for a while without my tablet and I just got tired of waiting. So, pen doodles at the airport. This was a challenge in its own right because 1. pen only and 2. I wasn't able to pull Netflix up for a reference on the fly. Which is why Will's face is obscured and Nimueh looks.... not like Nimueh lol.

In summary: this was a goddamn joy to do. I finished 26 letter prompts in approximately 21 weeks, which exceeded my own unspoken goal of filling one letter per week. I found a good, happy corner of the Merlin fandom after a years-long hiatus away from being a fandom creator. If you did make it this far with me, thanks for reading my inane comments and giving this little project even a moment of your time -- I'm so grateful.

[recordsystem]

Me and my fiance were talking about some of the Tumblr discourse I've seen around and how it might trace back to protestantism (disclaimer for the rest of this post, he's the divinity major not me lol). He was talking about how there used to be/maybe still is this issues w protestants not really caring Abt whether or not they were effectively good people, it was just about believing the right things. And that just reflects heavily on Tumblr discourse to me.

Like for a lot of people i don't think they care about being good people, they care about using the Right Terminology and believing the right thing. That's why u can get ppl touting around their support for disabled ppl and then turn around and bully someone for being triggered by a phrase like touch grass; it's not about actually being good to disabled people, it's about making sure you avoid all the bad slurs and use all the good words regardless of how you treat the actual disabled people in ur life.

I then said maybe it has to do w why these ppl r so caught up w respectability politics too? Like these kinds of protestants don't have to actually worry Abt being good ppl, as long as they're good w god nothing else matters. And it sorta reminds me of how cruel people on tumblr are willing to be to each other as long as they appear to be Good and Nice. As long as they look acceptable to their peers and especially to their oppressors they feel they can be as actually cruel as they want to people they feel are below them. That's probably why they get so upset when their fellow minorities are too weird, too queer, too mad to help them appeal to their oppressors.

Cause at the end of the day for them it's all Abt thinking or saying the right thing. It's why they can't fathom that someone who ships incest could possibly be a good person bc thought crimes r real to them and that's wild.

No discourse is Abt finding ways to be good to the ppl around them, it's all Abt the internet brownie points and that blows.

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt. 2 (Pt. 1, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5)

-----

Peter will admit that during he took an extended moment during his journey home to grieve the loss of his free afternoon, and indeed the impending headaches.

And the rest of his future, if he was honest.

Not that Peter was prone to melancholy by any means, but with this assignment his fate was officially sealed, there was no misunderstanding. He was going to fail this assignment. He was going to, for the first time in his academic career, be forced to submit garbage of a caliber worthy of Tony Stark. It will forever be a black mark on his academic record.

No respectable college is going to accept him after this. In fact, he might as well drop out of school now and hit up Mr Delmar for a job. All of his prep for his MIT application is as good as useless after this. Extracurriculars? Goodbye.

Because it’s confirmed.

He’s doomed.

Swaying with the motions of the train, Peter types a text to Ned, the only person who might provide him with some much needed sympathy.

>  I’m doomed >  paired w/stark for an assignment lollllllllll.  >  help

Maybe Peter could trade with Ned. Maybe he could plead with their teacher, for honest fear of his life and scholastic integrity. He wasn’t even exaggerating. In no known iteration of this universe could Peter amicably work with Tony Stark. It would be like Harry Potter sitting down for tea with Voldemort, or Frodo and Sauron chilling with a pint and a pipe in Bag End. 

It was unthinkable. Implausible. Laughable.

And Peter would laugh, were it anyone but him in this situation.

The feeling is unusual. Never had he found reason in his life to truly dislike anybody before, everyone could be redeemed or given the opportunity for penance. Natasha has said more than once that Peter would offer the devil himself a sandwich if he appeared. 

Tony Stark on the other hand? No sandwich for him.

Well, maybe a slice of bread. A stale one.

While he waits for Ned to responds he catches sight of his injured reflection in the train window, which is admittedly pretty gnarly. Even with his hood drawn up, there was a noticeable berth allocated to him in the busy carriage between himself and the other passengers.

< sux. can I have ur lego hogwarts if u die?

> dude :( pity me.

< lol. so, can i?

Peter sighs.

> sure. Look after May for me, bro. delete my internet history.

< deal. godspeed

Pocketing his phone, Peter wonders if it’s too late to take up praying.

---

By the time he’s back in his apartment his mood has managed to swing back up.

Tony Stark is not going to be the arbiter of Peter’s fate. Hell no. He’s smart, he’s creative and hardworking - it isn’t up to anybody but Peter to determine his outcomes. If he has to do the assignment with Stark then he will. And he will work his hardest. 

If he has to do it sharing the credit with Stark, well, Peter knows a concession when he sees one.

No matter how reluctant he is.

But he powers through it, like ripping off a bandaid. It’s fine! He’s a Parker and he’s come this far in life already against ill, Parker-like odds. What was being paired for one assignment with someone who escaped the nearest hellmouth? 

It’ll be fine. 

Probably.

Not letting himself linger on his fears, Peter clears out his previous plans of going on a YouTube spiral and eating sour gummies until his teeth stick, instead utilising the time to get his foot in and and begins prepping for the assignment. Cursory, preliminary research at first, before the inevitable deep dive begins.

Neanderthal, Peter scoffs, mad all over again. Who is Stark to call Peter a neanderthal? He’s second in his class. He’s a straight A student. He likes school.

And as much as he is moderately skilled in, and enjoys JV, it’s not like he received his scholarship to study at Midtown based on his physical prowess.

The graze on his cheek that stings every time he yawns is proof of that.

Stark can eat his entire ass and choke on it, he thinks darkly, as he continues his research. He doesn’t know the first thing about Peter.

The data is sobering as he delves into job listings and statistics of his projected salary in a three year margin. This is really what his teachers earn? Wow. Depressing.

The contrast of expected salary versus the forecast of steep student loans is disheartening further still.

Teaching quietly slips from second to third on his list of ideal occupations.

Turning on a playlist on his phone, Peter continues to compile notes, amassing a truly gargantuan amount of tabs on his browser. His computer, old enough to be on its’ last teeth, whirrs loudly in protest.

It’s not until his room goes dark that he thinks to check the time.

Ah, shit. It’s nearly six.

Peter pauses. Should he tidy up the apartment?

...Nah, no point in breaking a sweat for Stark.

He continues typing. Then he hesitates, fingers suspended in mid-air. 

But what if Stark sees his unfolded laundry out on the dining table and publicly shames him for his old-but-comfortable Bulbasaur themed boxer shorts?

Goddamnit.

---

A quick, cursory clean ensues and leaves a relatively orderly Parker apartment. No freshly laundered underwear is in sight.

Peter wraps up just a few minutes before six. Right on time.

Taking a seat at the now clear dining table Peter drums his fingers on the surface and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

---

He knows when Tony finally arrives when he hears the sound of a car pulling up outside his apartment block. The riffs of a Roxette remix can be heard playing loudly  from the ground to the seventh floor of his apartment, the bass so thunderous it reverberates the windows all the way up to his floor.

Drumming his fingers on the kitchen table, Peter checks the wall clock again. It’s nearly seven.

Tony’s late.

Not that Peter is particularly affected with surprise that Tony is incapable of following basic instructions, but still. Really? Really?

By the time there is a knock on his door, Peter is already before it, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Every second between Tony pulling up and his ascent to Peter’s floor has him positively fuming. He can’t believe how this day played out. It started with such promise. He had such innocuous, but high hopes.

Clearly, he miscalculated.

Feeling a touch petty, he waits to answer, listening to Stark knock a second and then a third, more insistent time before he rouses enough calm to open the door.

He instantly regrets it when he does. 

Tony’s expression is curious one as he breezes right passed Peter without waiting for further invitation. There’s a smudge of something dark on his brow, his otherwise white undershirt smeared in dark stains.

Peter watches incredulously as the other boy drops his backpack by the door with a thump.

“You’re late.”

He closes the door behind Tony and scowls at the other boys easy posture, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes taking in the apartment.

“I didn’t realise you lived all the way out in fucking Queens. Do you have any idea how bad traffic is at this time of day? Also, your elevator doesn’t work. I just climbed seven flights of stairs, where’s the hospitality?”

“Try earning it.”

The other boy rolls his eyes. “Like it’s worth my time.” He breezes past Peter and slides his leather jacket off his arms, tossing it atop of his backpack in the corner. “Look, I’m here now. Okay? You can unclench now. So, do I get a tour or what?”

“Or what. This wouldn’t have been an issue if we had just started straight after class like I said.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Tony clutches his hands to his heart before gesturing to the room. “I didn’t realise I was interrupting your busy Friday night, Parker. You got a keg and the rest of the meatheads stashed away somewhere?”

Without waiting for a response, Tony wanders around the living room like a curious child in a new play room. His gaze inspects everything all at once, from peering at up close at the wall mounted photos and hovering his grubby hands over the oddments and knick-knacks speckled throughout the space.

Apprehensive, Peter can’t help but shadow him, afraid he just let loose a hurricane in a china shop.

Without asking, Tony picks up May’s old Magic 8-Ball and gives it a good shake. Peter’s fingers itch to reach over and stop him, but stops himself because then that would require actually making direct skin contact the other boy.

Not worth it.

“Cannot predict now. Huh,” Tony says to himself before placing the ball back in the wrong spot. 

They both watch silently as it rolls precariously close to the edge. 

“Anyways,” Tony helps himself to an armchair, lounging back and spreading his legs wide. “I know your long-term memory is probably as defective as the rest of you, so don’t strain yourself recalling that I had other priorities.”

“Like what?”

“Like literally anything that isn’t being around you,” the other boy grins. “Now, are we doing this thing, or did you invite me over so you could bitch at me?”

“I didn’t invite you,” Peter grumbles, swiping his notebook from the dining table before sitting on the sofa, as far away from Stark as possible. Shifting, he takes his phone from his pocket and opens the notes he’d taken earlier.

“So, I cross referenced some websites and current job listings,” Peter scrolls through his research, adjusting his glasses as they slip down his nose. “Assuming you have no savings, we’re looking at an average of sixty-thousand per annum based on my salary alone. The average rent in --”

“-- Uh, why are we assuming I have no savings?”

"Because... we’re being realistic?”

Tony springs to his feet and paces across the living room.

“Well,” he says, gesturing to Peter, “if we’re being realistic, does having no savings also that mean I have no debt -- or are you paying off two student loans on your salary?”

“I don’t --”

“Do we have car loans? Health insurance?”

“Wait, slow your roll, Stark. I haven’t yet --”

“-- Of course you haven’t. I mean really, Parker, do you ever think ahead? You should try it, we do have a baby on the way, you know.” Tony clicks his fingers and points at Peter. “Oh, names! I want to call it Molly.”

“As in the drug?” 

“No, as in Ringwald. Anyhoo, seeing as only one of us has the intellectual capacity to construct a budget,” Tony gestures to himself, “that would be me, consider maybe that I spent my savings paying off my student loans and bought a car for me and Miss Molly, leaving you with just your own stagnant debt. Happy?”

“Thrilled,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling utterly steamrolled. “But we’re not calling the baby Molly.”

“Yes, we are. Think of all the great nicknames. Hey wait,” Tony pauses in his pacing, “are your parents going to be home soon?”

It was in that moment Peters world narrows down to one, botched cosmic joke.

Turning his gaze heavenwards, Peter prays silently for mercy. What did he do to deserve this. This is all his bad karma come at once. This is the bad place.

“Ah, no,” he replies, eyes widening. “No, my parents are not going to be home soon.”

“Cool. Lucky you.”

Oblivious to Peter’s existential turmoil, Tony resumes his patrol through the living room, picking up a frame on the mantle. It houses an old photo of Ben, May and a young, bespectacled Peter. 

It is one of the more embarrassing immortalisations of his younger self, eleven-years old and grinning widely, bearing his silver braces to the camera as he holds up a science fair trophy, curls wild and untamed.

Oh god. That was exactly what Peter needed on this unholy day - Tony Stark in his living room, witnessing Peter in his prepubescent glory. 

Quick, create a diversion.

“So, as I was saying,” he says loudly, “rent is reasonably affordable with a sixty-thousand budget in --”

“Who’s the babe?” Tony points to a younger Aunt May in the photo.

Peter gets to his feet and removes the frame from Tony’s grasp. He glowers as he places it back on the mantle. 

“No one you would have a chance with. Can you stay focused? Like, are you physically capable of it?”

“Okay, calm down,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “You’ve got a lot of anger for someone so vertically challenged, you know that, shortstack?” 

“Focus, dumbass.”

“I’m focused! Let’s see, we’ve established that I am excellent at managing my money. You have a shitty job and a shitty salary, and apparently my imaginary future self has terrible taste in men. So. Have I got that right? Where are we living?”

“Queens. LIC has some one bed, one baths that could be affordable.”

“Uh, rewind. Going to have to eighty-six that - I am not living in Queens.”

Peter stares at him.

Tony rubs his hands over his face and sighs. “Fine, whatever. But I want a Pontiac Firebird in this imaginary life if I have to deal with you.”

“For someone so keen on getting away you’re doing your best to prolong this experience. It’s literally painful.”

“Well, I just like to see you get all riled up, Princess,” Tony grins, leaning back against the mantle and folding his arms over his chest. “You have this vein that bulges on your forehead when you’re mad. Makes you look like a pitbull.”

Peter swallows the particularly acidic retort sitting on his tongue and tries not to let Tony’s words sting. Be the bigger man, Ben used to say. As difficult as it is to channel even a modicum of the mans’ eternal patience, Peter takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay focused. The less he gets sidetracked by Tony’s fuckery, the sooner it’s over.

He mentions the next part with unease. 

“...Miss Ahn said that we need references and should do field research. Speak to realtors. Ask people who have a similar lifestyle and budget.”

The look that comes over the other boys face is one of unequivocal revulsion. Peter can relate. The thought of having to spend more time with this guy makes his stomach turn.

“Well, Parker, any bright ideas who we can ask?”

The hinges of the front door squeaks before Peter can respond.

Moments after, Aunt May walks into the living room, placing her bag down on the dining table. She looks between the two boys curiously.

“Hey, Pete,” she comes to his side to squeezes his shoulder. “Who do we have here?”

Tony rushes over with his hand outstretched, an eager grin on his face. 

“Tony Stark, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, ah, okay, well,” May laughs as he enthusiastically shakes her hand. Her eyes are soft as Tony smiles brightly at her. “Nice to meet you too, Tony. I’m May, Peter’s aunt. Are you... friends with Peter?”

Peter snorts. 

“Definitely not. We just have an assignment --”

“-- Great friends, actually,” Tony talks over him, taking a seat beside Peter on the sofa. To Peter’s utter disgust, the other boy puts an arm around his shoulders, squeezing his bicep encouragingly. “Aren’t we, Pete? Hmm? Best buds. We go way back.”

Peter freezes, feeling the line of heat from Tony’s against his side, the weight of his arm on his body. 

Eyes widening, he feels his skin crawl. 

“That’s sweet,” May smiles, putting her hair up in a loose, messy bun. “Well, I don’t know about you boys, but I’m starving. I’m ordering pizza, Friday special. You should stay for dinner, Tony.”

Tony places his free hand on his chest.

“I would be honoured.”

May looks at Tony strangely before retreating to the kitchen to retrieve the menus.

As soon as she’s out of sight Tony takes his arm off Peter and quickly shifts away from him like he’s been burned. 

“Dude,” Peter whispers, bewildered. “What the fuck?”

“Oh my god,” Tony whispers, shuddering as his face scrunches up in disgust. “I’m going to have to pour scalding hot water on all the places your skin just touched me. Ugh, I feel like I just touched toe fungus.”

Peter slaps his arm.

“What is wrong with you?”

Tony backhands Peter’s arm in retaliation and then shudders all over again.

“Your aunt is crazy hot, okay, I couldn’t help myself. It was an instinctual reaction. Is she taken? C’mon. Vindicate me.” 

“I’ll eviscerate you --”

“-- I mean, clearly she married into the family, she doesn’t share your unfortunate phenotype, but I didn’t see a ring on her finger. So? Yes or no?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Peter hisses as his aunt comes back in. “She’s not available to you. Not now, not ever.”

“But she is available?”

“Don’t even, Stark. You’re like, sixteen. Don’t you have any shame?”

Tony smiles, as she nears. “Not a shred.”

“So,” May waves a menu at them. “You boys happy with pepperoni?”

Closing his eyes, Peter wishes for death.

As fate would have it, he gets pepperoni instead.

-----

If you had ever told Peter that he would be sitting down for dinner with his Aunt and a dirt-streaked Tony Stark, he would have laughed.

And if Peter were outside himself he would probably find the sharing of pizza and soda over their plastic, chequered table-cloth comical -- in that uncanny, Dogs Playing Poker kind of way. But in reality there was nothing funny about the discomfort of having Tony in his personal space or the heavy, suffocating tension that has removed the air from the room. 

The entire time Tony has been hamming it up, cracking jokes with his aunt, complimenting her on the decor, asking what she does for work. Peter doesn’t know if he’s being sweet to May for the purpose of buttering her up, or, given the wealth of his family in contrast to the Parkers, if he’s being cruelly facetious. 

Nonetheless, Peter has felt on edge. It’s disconcerting, is what it is. Every single movement Tony makes, every time he opens his mouth -- frequently to sweet-talk his aunt -- has Peter’s anxiety standing at attention, hyperaware of everything the other boy does.

He’s beginning to feel like a meerkat whose den has been invaded by a lion.

Through the course of a single meal Peter’s attention moves from the sky to the floor. There is no grace or higher power that is coming to save him from this profound, unusual torture. 

So he focuses his hopes to the south, seeing through their tiny, cramped, dinner table, past bargaining. He’s willing to trade his soul to end it all. Surely some wayward being from hell would come to his rescue. 

May has Peter’s chin between her fingers. She turns it this way and that, inspecting his injuries.

“What happened this time, bubby?” She frowns, brow furrowing. “You look like you got beat up.”

Peter, very aware of Tony’s amused gaze on them, gently pulls away from her grasp. He smiles placatingly and picks at his pizza slice. God he’s never going to live this down.

“Training accident. It’s okay, I feel fine. ‘Tis but a scratch,” he brings himself to joke.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek, carefully avoiding the fresh scabs and injured flesh. “God, you bruise like a peach. Be careful, baby, you’re our money maker,” she laughs. “What about you Tony, do you play football?”

Tony, who is mid way through chewing on a mouthful of pizza, momentarily chokes, beating his chest with his fist to swallow down the obstruction.

“Uh, no,” Tony gulps, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Nope. No recreational sports for me. Can’t.” He gestures to his chest and sighs heavily. “Asthma.”

Peter sips his coke and rolls his eyes, knowing full well there’s a half-empty pack of Marlboro Light’s in the pocket of Tony’s jeans. Asthma. What a schmuck.

“That’s a shame. Do you boys have classes together?”

Unfortunately, Peter thinks.

The other boy seems to have the same thought, as he glares at Peter from over the table. When he picks up his can of coke, he gives Peter the finger outside of May’s eye-line.

“That’s why Tony’s here,” Peter twists his napkin in his grip. “We have an econ assignment together on microeconomics. Teach says Tony’s destined to be on welfare.”

Tony leans in, chin rested on his hand. He addresses May but his stare, dark and odious, rests on Peter.

“Not accurate. Stay-at-home parent, actually. One might say that is the most important job of all. Wouldn’t you agree, May?”

She raises her Coke.

“Hear, hear.”

Tony grins roguishly, the same grin he gave the girls at the lockers earlier. “Petey here was just saying that we should ask you about your experience running a household on a single salary. We’d love to have you as a reference.”

“Was I saying that?” Peter narrows his eyes. “I can’t remember.”

Tony kicks him under the table. The hit lands right in his knee cap.

Wincing, Peter kicks back, satisfied when the other boy bites his lip to hold back a pained groan.

“Yeah, well, not surprising,” Tony says airily, waving his hand. “Hit your head today, didn’t you? Maybe you should get all that damage looked into.”

The napkin rips in Peter’s grasp.

“Maybe you should go f--”

“I’d be more than happy to help with your assignment, boys,” May cuts in.

Whatever snide reply he has in his mouth instantly wilts when he looks over to his Aunt. She looks...pleased. Delighted, almost. Her eyes under the dull, yellow kitchen light seem to get warmer, and her smile is small but softens around the edges.

Instantly, Peter feels like the worst person in the world. Of course May would be the best person to ask. She does so much for him, the least he can do is set his pride aside for one moment to make her feel good about how hard she works for their life.

He reaches over to squeeze her hand, smiling as gratitude swells unexpectedly in his chest.

“Thanks, May. That would be great.”

Across the table, a smug Tony looks like the cat who got the cream. 

Without warning, Peter’s chest goes hot with contempt, his fingernails dig into his palm. He’s not sure he’s ever met anyone he couldn’t like, until now.

I hate you, Peter mouths while May busies herself with rounding up the pizza boxes.

Kiss my ass, Tony mouths back. 

In an instant his expression flips from contemptuous to angelic when he stands and offers to help May clean up.

Peter stands too, sparing a disdainful glance to the floor. Turns out not even the devil was willing to give him a hand.

Natasha was right. It’s going to end in murder.

---

Peter walks Tony to the door after dinner to say goodbye to his ‘friend’. Following him into the hall, Peter closes the door behind them.

“What do you want, Parker?” Tony asks wearily, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket. “I’m trying to make a getaway here.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t do that with my aunt. I’m not joking, asshole. It’s not cool.”

“Relax, princess,” Tony rolls his eyes, fishing for his lighter in his backpack. “I’m not actually interested. Just trying to get under your skin. Worked, see? You’re easy like that. Hey, why do you live with your aunt anyways?”

“None of your business,” he frowns as Tony holds one hand up in surrender and lights his cigarette with the other. “Dude, you can’t smoke in here.”

“Can’t, shouldn’t, gonna. By the way, you’ve got sauce on your chin, it’s very distracting.”

Peter wipes at it without thinking. When he pulls it away there is indeed a smear of red sauce on his hand.

Tony walks backwards down the hall and exhales a cloud of smoke, waving in a sardonic imitation of a farewell.

“See you Monday, bubby.”

Peter doesn’t bother with a response, too tired from the week, exhausted by this whole darn day, and it’s not like the other boy cares what he has to say anyway. He takes a moment to swallow his anger before he heads back inside, sighing. 

Well, at least he has an entire weekend free of Stark to look forward to.

May looks at him curiously when he reemerges, but says nothing. He considers for a moment about heading to his bedroom and playing a video game to disassociate - but then, suddenly, remembers her smile earlier, and how alone she looks now. A surge of affection hits him right beneath his breastbone.

He checks his watch and then catches her eye.  Tilting his head towards the living room, he says, “Hey. You wanna eat some ice cream and watch some Colbert before bed?”

She smiles just like she did earlier and kisses his cheek. “Sounds nice, Pete.”

Maybe the whole day wasn’t lost.

As May heads to the sofa and switches the TV on, Peter catches sight of the Magic 8-Ball from the corner of his eye. He walks over and gives it a shake.

Outlook good.

*

*

----

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @muse-of-gods

[cloveroctobers]

Any Graham/MC friendship headcanons?

OR

Carl/MC relationship headcanons if the other one is too difficult?x

Graham/MC friendship

Probably has him under “fishman ham 🎣” in their contacts — or at least I would lol

idk there wasn’t much interaction in the house since they weren’t each other’s type therefore there was little social to no scenes (which I think is kinda dumb because you can still be friends with someone if you don’t choose to go the romantic route yet he’s not that much of a fan fav so maybe that’s why? They also had a lot of characters so maybe that’s it too? Anyways) unless mc was going after marisol or considered a friend of hers? I’m not too sure on the still carrying feelings towards marisol if she’s with graham route so that’s based off pure assumption

If mc did start a friendship while he was with marisol and they still had feelings towards marisol then it wouldn’t happen until some months after the show or when/if marisol broke up with him (I made it canon that ultimately they do split but yeah)

so let’s say mc began a friendship while he’s dating marisol and mc has no romantic feelings towards marisol then?

They’d probably bond over some shit-talking cause I view graham as someone who can and WILL talk his shit

Mc and graham are on different time lengths majority of the time since graham is always up at the crack of ass out on his boat to snatch the catch of the day

He sends selfies on his boat—again at the crack of ass

“lemme know if you find aquaman! B safe uglie”

“i AM YOUR own personal gorgeous aquaman 😏 x”

“Don’t ever disrespect Jason momoa again in ur life !!!”

“U disrespect my wife Wunmi Mosaku”

“No I disrespect YOU. She doesn’t want u.”

“She wnted Jordan Patrick smith on tht show.”

“🥱🤫🖐🏽...I don’t blame her but only if he has the beard.”

“yew n ur got damn beards 😒”

Loves his seafood...I think that’s a given

“Can we eat something else, please!”

“...My Omama (grandmother) made her famous dressed crab.”

I decided against making hcs of graham before along with some others but ultimately thought he be of German background?

Not the greatest at speaking but understands the spoken language and ofc the curse words and insults are his favs + teaches mc some

I feel like he’s rough handed and has no issue bumping hips, elbowing, and putting mc into headlocks—basically treating his bestie like anyone of his bros really but he does that with anyone (including his omama, who laughs sending a punch with her knuckles against his forearm. It’s more of a gentle firm grip but they do this in greeting?)

Has no issue lugging mc around like some fish in a net?

like if there’s a severe rainstorm in his hometown of Devon and mc is the type to hate rain and they have a long way to get back to the car after hanging on the sandy beach all day, he’ll throw them over his shoulder like it’s nothing and stalk his way back up the cliffs to get back muttering “I’m getting real sick of Der mist!”

“Blah blah blah, you love me. Kiss my arse.”

“I could drop you on ya head, I’m sure that’s happened before.”

Then comes the hits, pinches, and jabs

Convinces mc to get random tattoos that he may or may not have doodled when they’re drunk off their asses

The next morning, “graham...what the f—

“Ah, now you look like me!” He ruffles mc’s hair from behind as they’re staring at their reflection in horror, “except I’d never get face tatts.” He whistles in slight disapproval

Mc might have to choke him and ask Gary to help dispose of the body in the ocean

Mc helps trim his beard instead since they almost cut off the entire patch left on top of his head “you look a bit like a beet or a mandrake from Harry Potter. Just cut the shit off or grow it all out, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Whatever happened to my body, my choice?”

“...that doesn’t apply to you. I’m your friend, I love you, and I’m trying to help you.”

“Oh, Piss off!”

Lots of middle fingers are used and hugs

Messy car, messy office, the only thing that’s neat is his hair/beard and his work ethic when it comes to the fish

He’s comes to mc when marisol dumps him and he’s hammered so that either = mad af or sad as hell sometimes it’s a little bit of both depending on how much he’s had

“Who do I have to fight? Or do you want to hug it out?”

“I kinda wanna slow dance to snow patrol.”

And you know it’s bad when graham openly wants to listen to snow patrol in the early afternoon instead of jelly roll or some shit

Hey, whatever the heartbroken fisherman wants he gets. That’s mc’s bud so they do what they can to make graham feel best...even if that means stepped on toes—He’s not the best dancer

I do get single dad vibes from him or at least uncle graham, he’s got a 3 year old son/nephew named Roy and he speaks so highly of the mother of his child/nephew who struggles with addiction but he’s on extremely good terms with her family

You adore Roy, who much like his daddy/uncle loves the water and sailboats

Mc will post captions about how thankful they are to have met graham due to some mess of a reality tv show whereas graham will post embarrassing pics that he secretly took of them and say things like “mc suxx a lot of the time 💘

“Text me when you get home bitch!” Type of friend too, cause if he can send you selfies so early in the day that he’s on the water at work then mc can txt him to let him know that they’re home after a night out, coming from work, etc...if they both are aware that the other was out

[aclosetfan]

are u still doing the ask game? can i ask for 19 or 20?

for you anon, of course! 20 is actually a really lame two-sentence note that isn't worth anyone's time, so I'll do 19!

19 is a really sad story tbh. I've always really liked the character Sedusa and it kills me that the writers never did more with her. I believe they said the reason why was because they couldn't think of many kid-friendly scenarios to put her in, which is fair lmao.

lol one of my notes for this outline is "this is my dark manifesto to [Sedusa] and it comes off like a bad CW remake," which was written way before the CW show announcement. so not to get a big ego about things, but I totally beat them to the punch. This fic is my only rated M fic (though arguably Acting Normal may also change into M just for its dark themes as well).

This story is adequately tilted "Sedusa" and it follows how a plain jane named Sara became one of Townsville's most notorious villains. The plot's below, though content warning, please don’t read if your triggered by abusive relationships, domestic violence, child abuse, sexual assault/harassment, or gore. The outline won't be detailed (and tbh the actual story won't be heavily detailed either) but i believe that everyone still deserves a fair warning :)

The outline doesn't do the plot justice, but it's all I got so hopefully people just Get It.

CHARACTER NOTES:

Canonically, I believe the Sedusa's character was supposed to represent envy and lust. So, one of the main themes I try to stick with when writing her character is the definition of envy, which is a "feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck."

PLOT:

Sara is a sweet and mousy little girl, who tries her best to stay invisible. She's rather plain-looking except for her really beautiful long dark hair. Originally, she's not from Townsville, but somewhere in the "country" where a person could be considered a bumpkin. Sara's a smart young girl, but her intelligence is rather unrefined. She spends most of her time obsessing over greek and Egyptian mythology.

She's from a rather big family, but she's the baby. Her father is abusive. Her mother is neglectful and Sara resents her mother for just standing by while abuse is occurring. To cope, Sara dreams of running away and falls deeper into her mythology obsession--specifically Medusa. Sara feels like Medusa would understand her.

At 16, she runs away to Townsville where she tries to be a hairdresser. With no money, she ends up in a really seedy part of town and the beauty parlor she works for ends up being a front for more illicit activities. She still does hair, but really makes her money as a call-girl of sorts. Just one of those girls who gives handjobs in the back to sad old men. It's easy money (I'm pro-sex work lol so I don't make this a big deal, but she's still a minor and it's wrong), but she's disgusted with herself (and men). At this time, she isn't very good at manipulating men--it's more like they have power over her and it reminds her of her father, only making her angrier and angrier.

It is also of note that while she's working at the Parlor, she encounters Sarah Bellum via tv (Ms. Bellum is just an intern with the Mayor at this point). She's instantly fascinated by this other Sarah and forms an odd (slightly toxic) parasocial relationship with her. Sara thinks it's amazing that Sarah went to school and is just so glamourous. Ms. Bellum is really everything Sara wants to be.

*time skip*

Sara falls in love with some jackass. Still slightly obsessed with Sarah Bellum. Still working at the parlor. Sara feels stagnant and worthless. Her jackass boyfriend and a few of his shitty friends end up attacking Sara and cutting off her hair (which was her prized possession). She gets away, but not totally unscathed.

In the process of running away, she bumps into a mysterious man who promises He can fix whatever is troubling her. The mysterious man manipulates an affirmative answer out of Sara and he "fixes" her problem. The man is HIM and he transforms her into the woman we all know as Sedusa (who goes by Ima when disguised).

“And what is it that you want?” HIM tsked, almost sounding bored.

She looked back at the mirror, at her broken reflection and lipstick smeared down her face. With a sore, croaking voice she sneered, “I want my fu-fucking hair back.”

Behind her, the entity smiled, Its facing splitting wide into two, “Oh, now that I can do.”

She watched through the shattered glass how It—HIM—snapped its odd monstrous claw. HIM’s smile grew more grotesque, as a thin bead of sweat began to break out on her forehead.

“This might hurt a little bit,” the entity giggled as she began to hyperventilate, “but what is that you little humans say?" HIM paused, watching her with a tilt of Its head as pain shot through her temples, "Oh, that’s right—”

She gasped and then screamed, dropping to her knees as she clutched at her head. Something wiggled underneath her scalp, pushing harder and harder to break against the resistance of her skin. It felt as if something was pressing against her brain, trying to carve away at her skull.

“—beauty is pain.” HIM growled, appearing next to her so Its voice—now low and baritone—was right in her ear, and It grasped her by the chin forcing her to watch the mirror as snake-like tendrils sprouted from her skull. She cried out at the sight and her body trembled with the pain.

One black, oily, twisted snake after another shot out of a bloody crater on her head. She tried her best through the pain to shake HIM off—to look away—but It held her still with a twisted laugh. She thrashed and howled in agony as the blood poured down her face in rivets. HIM didn't let go. Instead, HIM forced her still, grabbing her by the chin so she'd peer directly into the broken mirror.

Sara paled right before her very eyes, from a peachy skin tone to a white paste. She tried to blink away the tears that wouldn’t stop welling in her eyes—the green of them becoming more acidic with every passing second.

“The fun should be ending soon.” HIM giggled again, Its voice back to a soprano, but she was too forgone to hear him, as her eyes began to lull into the back of her head.

Eventually, when the transformation is complete, we see this:

Sara had stayed collapsed on her knees after HIM vanished into thin air. She stared with wide eyes as blood, sweat, and tears dripped onto and rolled off her thighs. She hardly paid attention to her surrounding, all she could do was listen. She listened to her hair. She listened to the constant moving, living, mass that slithered around her head, neck, and shoulders. The coils almost seemed to be cooing at her, comforting her through her pain, offering sweet apologies for what they had done. They promised her nothing bad would ever happen again. They were a dangerous shield forged from her own body to protect her.

Her body. A vessel for this odd new life.

“Heh.” A deranged giggle escaped her mouth, “Heh. Heh ha—hahaha!” She laughed until her throat burned and tightened, her tears finally drying.

It was instantaneous. It was powerful. Sara had never known love before, but she loved them. She loved every single one of them.

And here she had thought she'd never be a mother.

Sara becomes Sedusa--taking inspiration from Medusa, her childhood fascination. She wonders if HIM knew, but she wouldn't bother asking. She feels sexy, powerful, and unstoppable. Her hair has instilled a new confidence in her and she's finally able to stand up for herself. Soon, she realizes that she's an "exotic" beauty and has men eating out of her hand. She isn't someone who kills, but if she gets bored (or feels threaten) she will.

Things are going good until the PowerPuff Girls are finally created. When she sees them for the first time, she pities them, especially when they're run out of town. She relates to them for not being loved little girls, but is completely shocked when she finds out they've won the town over. This shock turns into resentment and she decides she'll get even with the girls

Then, cue canon. Sedusa seduces the Professor. We see what happens in that episode plus a little more. Sedusa takes out a lot of her repressed childhood trauma on the girls and is plain awful to them. By the time her stint with the Professor is over, she hates them all.

Then, there's the episode with Bellum. Bellum becomes the Athena to Sedusa's medusa. Bellum is still this elevated person in Sedusa's mind, and it only makes sense to Sedusa that she should become Bellum. To become Bellum, Sedusa seduces Bellum and they end up having a brief relationship. (Sedusa pretends to be an intern at City Hall and the two ladies bond over having the same first name). Eventually, Sedusa reveals her plot and the canon events happen. (Bellum is heartbroken over Sedusa).

I'd like to emphasize that Sedusa's relationship with Bellum almost turns her "good," but her hair coils (HIM's curse) prevents her from taking those steps. Her coils prevent close loving relationships--since they're supposed to be shield that keeps people out, preventing any chance that Sedusa's heart may be broken again. [coils represent her inability to heal from the past]

Then we run through a quick montage of her other appearances.

[throughout all of this, I would write how her hair coils are making her more and more insane]

*time skip to after the events of the og show*

This is where my plot can go anywhere. I think Sedusa becomes sloppy, maybe kills a politican. She's spirialing out of control and mad that she can't find any real happiness in her life. I think it'd be interesting to show her interacting with the rrb, not necessarily to show their relationship, but to show how Sedusa would be infuriated that HIM had sons, especially sons who hurt girls for fun ( i.e. the ppg) (a real 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' moment for her). She's also infuriated at HIM for turning her into a monster, so being mad about his "sons" is just an excuse to get even with the entity.

To hurt HIM, she decides to hurt the boys, but the girls interfere. They won't let innocent live be taken, no matter the person's moral alignment. This infuriates Sedusa even more than HIM ever could. Because again, despite all the shitty things that have happened to the Girls, they are still good as opposed to Sedusa, who ended up bad. She doesn't understand why she had to end up the way she did.

However, the girls aren't the people who finally "defeat" Sedusa. Instead, that honor is left to Ms. Bellum (Sedusa's "Athena"), who Sedusa still very much loves in her own sick twisted way. Paralleling the Sedusa/Bellum episode in the og show, the girls (while protecting the boys) are almost defeated by Sedusa until Bellum intervenes. It's revealed that Bellum had a shitty childhood too (again enforcing the parallels/differences between the two women) and believes that it's not too late for Sedusa to change her ways (it’s a real “I’m rotten work” “no it isn’t. Not if it’s you” moment) In a moment of mental clarity, where the coils (and by extension HIM) cannot affect her judgement, Sedusa releases the boys and the girls. Sedusa doesn't stay though, like Bellum pleads, she gets scared and runs away. (but does tell Bellum she’d always love her, whatever that’s good for)

[also I decide bellum to defeat sedusa to show that the girls are still to young and that adults should be the ones dealing with other adults] [and bellum has a good track record of doing just that]

Idk if she'd be gone forever, but it's implied that she hasn't been seen in Townsville for a long time. What she gets up to is left ambiguous. She can't be good because of her hair coils, but she doesn't want to be bad. idk I don't want it to have a sad ending, but I don't think it can really be happy.

-----

I try hard to play with the concept of beauty, womanhood, purity, love and how negative/positive responses to trauma affect these concepts. Idk it's really rough and needs to be thought out more, especially the end, but I think Sedusa deserves her own story.

[dont-cry2020]

“I Love You Too, Mr. Superstar.”

Harry Styles x Reader

requested by @softiebowen

//technically the prequel to “Too Early for Another One?” but id recommend reading that one (here) first so you understand what’s happening//

//17 y/o harry reconnects with 16  y/o y/n, realizing that she’s it for him//

//smut (exp. harry with virgin y/n) & fluff//

//this is 4,820 words so strap yourself in lmao//

The week came and went quickly as the hot New York weather only got hotter. It was Saturday, so you weren’t mad when you woke up at 9:30, starting your routine a little bit later after you’d had your coffee.

Checking your phone didn’t really cross your mind, so you carried on your morning routine as usual. You brushed your teeth and ate breakfast, greeting your mom with a cheery ‘good morning’ and going out to the roof of your apartment building to do some yoga.

It was still early, yet the sun was beating down on you, making you long for a long shower. You did just that, letting the water cascade down your body as you washed your hair and shaved your legs.

It was going to be a good day.

After showering, you picked up your phone, checking any texts from friends who wanted to hang out this weekend, but one particular text caught your eye.

‘coffee shop harry <3′

hey...

i know it’s been a few, but i’m in town and wondering if u want to meet up ?

You were shocked, to say the least. You’d barely heard anything from him since you met last May; just a few ‘hey’s and ‘what are you up too?’s were exchanged in the two fleeting months.

After about a month of waiting for him to call or text, he didn’t really cross your mind. Sure, you had seen his face on billboards and posters around the city, reading ‘One Direction, the Hottest Boy Band of the 2010′s’. You would grin to yourself as you remembered the words ‘i’m in a band’ rolling off his tongue in that smooth British accent.

If you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t really bothered to listen to his music. Not that you didn’t want to, you just didn’t really want to think about that day when you met him.

You had given him a tour of New York City, or as you would say, ‘all the places that matter’. Then Harry would laugh and you would admire the sparkle in his green eyes and the dimples in his rosy cheeks.

He had told you a lot about himself, too. And, yeah, you had a good amount of assumptions about a British boy wandering the streets of New York City alone.

One of them being that he liked you.

You were proven wrong when you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead gave you an awkward hug. Your lips were met with his chest and you had never been more embarrassed in your entire life.

Thus why you were so confused at his text.

sure, want me to give u another tour lol

Your phone dinged not even a minute later, Harry eager to see you again. He felt terrible about ghosting you, but he was so caught up in this newfound fame that he really didn’t know what to do with himself. Let alone someone else.

After the night he met you, he had wanted to kiss you so badly, but he knew he couldn’t. For Christ’s sake, he lived in a different country. You were still in school and you had a long future ahead of you. He thought that you were the smartest girl he had ever met. Not to mention the most beautiful.

r u good with dinner ? and maybe a tour of the harbor 😂😂 pick u up at 6

You couldn’t help but feel ecstatic at his message. You had seen tabloid pictures of him, but they really couldn’t capture the sparkle in his eyes when he laughed or the blush that crept up his cheeks when he was nervous.

sounds good

You replied almost coldly, hoping to not make your excitement obvious. You weren’t sure if this was a date? Probably not, you thought.

Around 3 was when you started to panic. You still didn’t know what you were going to wear or where you were going to go. You had only briefly mentioned that you were going out with a friend to your mom, quickly leaving the room before she could grill you about where or who you were going with.

You threw a few outfit options on your bed, settling on a light pink dress that ended at mid-thigh, and a pair of platform sandals. You figured it was hot enough that you didn’t need a jacket, so you finished your outfit off with a pretty pearl necklace and some earrings to match.

By the time you finished your hair and makeup, it was half-past 5, and you were nervously awaiting Harry’s arrival. What if you looked too dressed up? Would he notice that your hair was longer?

A light knock on the door startled you from your thoughts, and you shouted your mom a quick goodbye before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

Harry was dumbfounded as the front door swung open, revealing the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He had somehow forgotten how beautiful you were, mentally scolding himself for not claiming you as his when he had the chance. He wondered if you had been with anyone after you met.

“Hi,” you said, making eye contact with the gorgeous boy standing in front of you. He was wearing a simple button-up shirt with the first few undone, a cross necklace resting on his pale skin and a sliver of a tattoo poking out from his left shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, shuffling awkwardly out of the way so you could step out of the door. “You look,” he takes a deep breath, “amazing.”

Your face heats and you look at the floor to hide the rosy tint creeping up your cheeks.

“Not so bad yourself, Mr. superstar,” you tell him.

He shakes his head, trying to hide the smile creeping onto his face.

“Mr. superstar?” he raises his eyebrows, trying to hide his smile.

“Seems like everyone knows where you are and what you’re doing except me,” you tell him, hurt lingering in your voice.

Harry sighs, running a hand through his unruly curls.

“Look,” he says stopping beside you on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry about ghosting you. There hasn’t been a day where I didn’t think about you. I just... I’ve been overwhelmed”

You meet his eyes and your heart flutters.

Clearing your throat, you ask him where he’s taking you.

“ ‘S surprise,” he says, long legs carrying him quickly down the pavement.

The two of you don’t talk much as you walk down the still busy New York street, you occasionally asking how far because your feet are killing you (you don’t tell him that though, you don’t want him to feel bad) and him responding almost there and then making some comment about how you should be used to this, being a big city girl and all.  

Eventually, he stops in front of a small Indian restaurant that you’ve seen before but never been too. He holds the door for you and you shuffle into the bright little facade. It’s a quaint little place, only a few couples sitting around, chatting softly and laughing.

Harry stands next to you, his fingers drumming softly against the wood of the host station. You notice how he keeps his head down, assumedly to not be noticed.

His rings catch your eye, the H and S on his fingers reflecting the soft light of the room. You mean to ask him about them, but a host comes quickly, asking for his name.

“Styles,” Harry says quietly, keeping his head down. You watch as the host nods, leading you down a hallway and through a side door.

“Where are we going?” you whisper to Harry, having to stand on your tiptoes a bit to reach his ear. He gives you a small smile, nodding forward.

“You’ll see,” he whispers back, leaving goosebumps erupting over your skin.

You lift your head, the host leading you up a set of stairs.

As you reach the top of the creaky wooden staircase, the host opens the heavy metal door for you, and you gasp as you step onto what seems to be the roof of the restaurant.

Sitting in the middle of the concrete is a small table for two, candles and string lights providing a dull but warm glow over the area. The sun is just starting to set, and bright colors splash the sky.

You turn to Harry.

“This is amazing,” you say quietly, standing face to face with him. He smiles softly, taking your hand in his and leading you to the table. He pulls a chair out for you and you sit down as Harry goes to his seat, doing the same.

“Y/n,” he says, pulling your nose out of the menu you were looking at to meet his eyes. I just want you to know that I really didn’t mean to ghost you. I hope this makes up for it.”

You can’t help the smile that graces your face for what seems like the millionth time tonight.

“Thank you, Harry. Means a lot.”

Soon, a waiter comes around with a glass of wine, pouring a glass for you and one for Harry.

“Harry, I’m 16!” you whisper after the waiter leaves, laughing to yourself.

“Okay?” Harry says, adding his own laughter to the mix. “And ‘m seventeen. No one gives a fuck.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, Mr. superstar.”

The rest of the dinner goes fairly smoothly, and you find yourself learning a lot about the British boy sitting in front of you. Harry feels the same about you, finding himself invested in your stories about your friends and family. By the time you’re finished eating, you’re both in tears at the stories and jokes you’ve told each other... and maybe just a tiny bit tipsy.

You offer to pay the bill, but Harry refuses, saying that it’s already been covered. What a gentleman...

He takes your hand for the second time tonight, carefully leading you down the creaky stairs and out of the restaurant. He nods at the host, wishing him a quick ‘goodnight’ before leading you out to the street.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, swinging your entwined hands back and forth. Harry can’t help but laugh at you, realizing that maybe you’ve had just a bit too much to drink.

“First,” he says chuckling, “we’re going to get you sober again.”

You whine at him, “I’m not drunk, though,” you say, stopping in your tracks and turning to him, sticking your lower lip out.

“Love,” he sighs, making your heart flutter, “yes you are. You’re not gonna remember this in the mornin’.”

“Yes I am,” you say, furrowing your brow. Harry can’t help but think about how absolutely adorable you look, pouty lips, squinted eyes and all. You gasp suddenly, “this is my favorite song!”

Harry cocks his head to the side as you drag his hand down the street where a man with a guitar was singing and playing what he recognized to be ‘The Chain’ by Stevie Nicks by the water.

“Dance with me!” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. Harry’s heart does flips in his chest. This woman was going to be the death of him. He slides his arms around your waist, pulling you a little closer than he should, but he can’t help himself. You sway lightly to the music with Harry, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes.

and if you don’t love me now

you will never love me again

I can still hear you saying

you would never break the chain

Harry feels like he’s never felt before. Words can’t describe the feelings that are running through his head and more importantly, his heart. He wants to kiss you, he really does. But he’s scared. His fleeting fear of constantly being photographed scares him, and he cares too much about you to put you in a position where you’re in the public eye.

“Y/n,” he calls softly, running a hand through your hair. You look up at him through your eyelashes and he gulps, trying to shake the dirty thoughts that just ran through his head. But her lips are so perfect and kissable and...

Before you know it, Harry’s lips are on yours. Suddenly the music is quiet and has faded to background noise and you’ve stopped swaying and all you can feel are Harry’s soft lips on yours and his hand cupping your cheek.

click

flash

Harry jumps, quickly disconnecting your lips and pulling you beside him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders protectively.

“The paps,” he whispers, pulling you down the street, shielding your faces.

“Mr. Styles!” one shouts, “Is this your new girlfriend or just a fling?”

You sink further into Harry, inhaling his scent and sobering up very much.

“See that building right there?” Harry points to a hotel a few buildings away. You nod your head. Harry doesn’t say a word as he starts walking quickly with you at his heels, his hand holding yours tightly.

You make it into the hotel and Harry leads you into the elevator, slouching against the cool metal.

“’ M sorry,” he says sadly. “’ ya must hate me now.”

“Harry,” you sigh, taking his hand and playing with the HS rings on his fingers. “I could never hate you.”

He looks up at you, and before you know it, his lips are against yours, and your back is pressed against the cool metal of the elevator. Your hands find Harry’s curls, feverishly kissing him with every ounce of energy that you have.

Neither of you noticed that the elevator had reached its designated floor until you heard someone clear their throat, snapping you away from your lip lock and blushing deeply at the older man standing on the other side of the door. Harry mutters a quiet ‘sorry’ before leading you down the hall to his hotel room. He fumbles with the key card for a moment leaving you impatiently waiting for what was going to happen next.

Should you tell Harry that you’re a virgin?

He pushes you against the door once you’re inside the hotel room, locking lips and pushing his chest flush against yours. You can feel him growing in his trousers and you push his chest with both your hands as his fingers start crawling under your shirt.

He pulls away, cocking his head to the side.

“Wha’s the matter? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he says, concern lacing his deep voice.

“Harry, I-” you start, not being able to find the words. “I’ve never...”

Harry makes an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, understanding what you’re trying to say.

“It’s ok we don’ have too, lovie,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No-!” you squeak, eyes widening.

Harry’s terrified that he’s hurt you, and he doesn’t want to scare you off. He could care less about the damned hard-on in his pants, he’ll walk you home right now if you want him too. Hell, he’d do anything for you, all you had to do was ask and he would be putty in your hands.

“I- I meant that... I want to, Harry.” This time it’s his turn to widen his eyes.

“A-are you sure?” He asks, placing his big hands on yours.

“Yes, H.” you say. Harry can’t help but grow harder as the words leave your mouth. “I want you.”

“Jesus Christ,” he says, nuzzling his lips into your neck and nibbling lightly at your ear lobe. You shiver at his touch.

“Gon’ be the death of me, Lovie.”

He closes the space between your lips, backing you against the bed and laying you gently on the mattress. He unbuttons his shirt and takes off his rings before climbing on top of you and slipping his tongue in your mouth. You moan lightly and smooth your fingertips down the soft skin of his back.

Harry has to keep reminding himself to calm down and slow his erratic movements. He wants your first time to be special, after all. He pulls away from your swollen lips to catch his breath, and you cup his jaw in your hand, leaving soft kisses down the nape of his neck. He closes his eyes, steadying his breathing before leaning into your neck, sucking a light bruise on your pale skin

.He moved down to the front of your throat, leaving small wet kisses down to the neckline of your dress.

“Can I?” he asks, toying with the straps of your dress, his soft touches making goosebumps erupt over your arms. You nod your head.

“Words, Love,” he tells you, nipping at your ear lobe.

“Please Harry.”

He slides down your body, straddling your shins as he slides his big warm hands up your thighs, bunching up your dress and you sit up to help pull it up over your head. He discards it somewhere on the floor and he can’t help but stare at your body clad in a lace bra and matching panties.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles, sliding back up your body and pressing his lips back to yours. He begins kissing down your body, the cool air hitting the wet marks on your skin and making you squirm. His hands slide down your arms, rubbing them softly as he kisses and nips at the tops of your breasts.

“Can I take this off?” he asks you, sliding his hands around your body to your back, fumbling with your bra clasp after you give him a quiet ‘yes’.

Harry’s touches are soft and sweet, yet they still make your head hurt and your adrenaline pump through your veins. You wanted him so badly, but you knew you would have to wait.

He unclasps your bra, sliding it off your arms and again throwing it somewhere in the spacious hotel room before attaching his lips to your left nipple, sucking and licking the sensitive skin. You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly at his curls as you arch your back into him, creating friction between the two of you.

He lets out the most delicious-sounding groan into the valley of your breasts which makes you grow wet by the second.

“Harry,” you whine softly.

“What is it, baby?” he says huskily, squeezing your breasts in his hands, (can u tell i have a kink for harry’s hands yes sorry oops) his cross necklace dangling over your chest.

You just whimper moving into his touch.

“Words, baby girl.”

“I-” you close your eyes and steady your erratic breathing. “I need you.”

He grins, kissing your lips for a moment before making his way all the way down to your navel, sucking a pretty hickey into your hips and kissing your inner thighs.

He wants nothing more than to ram your body into the mattress right there, making you scream his name, but he knows all he can do is love on you and tell you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you...

His eyes widen.

“I love you too,” you whine, pressing yourself closer to his body,

“Did I say that out loud?” he breathes, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Yeah,” you say, chuckling. “you did.”

“I love you,” he says again, going back down to his spot between your thighs.

“I l-love you, too,” you say, quivering as he places his lips onto your clothed cunt. He squeezes your hips.

“Can I take these pretty panties off, love? You’re soaking.”

You felt like you could cum from his dirty words alone, sighing as you nod your head quickly.

“Please.”

“Eager, are we?” he says, his eyes darkening.

Oh, God. You couldn’t take it.

He slides your panties down your legs, throwing them off the bed with the rest of your clothes. He blows air on your wait slit and you moan out.

“Haven’ even touched you, love. You’re soaking,” he slides his finger down your slit and your eyes shut along with your legs. Harry’s loving the sounds that come from your mouth as he places kisses to your clit, collecting your wetness on his tongue. He moans at your taste, sending vibrations through your heat.

He begins lapping at your slit at a faster pace, making you moan and writhe beneath him. He slides his index finger into your tight hole and you cry out.

“Oh fuck,” you tug as his curls and he groans, sucking on your button a little harder.

“You’re so tight,” he says, adding a second finger and stretching you out. At this point, Harry was aching in his jeans and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get them off soon. Luckily, you came to the rescue, clawing at the tight fabric praying for him to take them off. He unbuckled his belt, sliding his tight jeans down his muscular legs.

Your eyes widen as you realize he wasn’t wearing underwear. You gulp at the sight of his bright red leaking tip. He was huge...and that was NOT an exaggeration. Harry continues to open you up for him, and you decide to release a little tension by sliding your hand between your bodies and pumping his thick member.

“Fuck me,” he groans, slipping his fingers out of you and putting them in his mouth. Your eyes widen. That was hot as shit.

Harry rolls off of you and digs through his jean pockets, pulling out a foil package. He rips it open with his teeth and slides it down his aching member, hissing at the constricting rubber.

“Are you ready?” he asks, rubbing his tip against your slit. “‘S gonna sting a bit, okay?”

You nod your head.

“Words.”

“Please Harry, I need you to fuck me.”

Harry felt his whole body flush. She’s so innocent and perfect and he couldn’t take it.

“As much as I would love to pound you into this mattress,” he growls into your ear, “I think it’s better if I made love to you instead.”

You’re heart and your pussy flutter at the same time and you push your hips up to his member, needing that friction between the two of you.

He stabilizes himself with his arms, leaning into your lips and kissing you as he slips the tip of his dick into your warm hole.

You hiss at the pain and he peppers kisses all over your face, muttering sweet nothings like “you’re doing so good” and “you’re okay, baby girl”.

He slides further into you and you scratch your fingernails down his back.

“Fuck, Harry,” you whine.

“Tell me when to move.”

“Please move.”

He pushes further into you, bottoming out into your sweet tight hole. He throws his head back as you clench around him, loving the velvetiness of your delicious walls. He starts to move out, pushing himself back in all the way this time.

Your moans get louder as pain turns into pleasure and Harry lets out deep growls into your neck.

“Har-Harry I’m-” You’re interrupted by your phone ringing against the nightstand. “Shit, Harry, I’m sorry,” you panic, but he doesn’t slow his movements.

“Don’t let me stop you from answering it,” he says, continuing to slide in and out of you. You curse under your breath, seeing that it’s your mom.

“H-hey, Mom,” you say as calmly as you can, Harry raising his eyebrows and slowing down ever so slightly. You give him a grateful look, pushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. He leans into your touch.

“Uh...yeah, I’m fine,” you say as Harry starts to pick up speed again. “Is it cool if I stay with Casey tonight?” You bite your hand, stifling the moan that leaves your throat as Harry hits that special spot. Harry grabs your hand and pins it to the bed. Your eyes go wide and you gulp, ending the phone call quickly and throwing your phone across the room.

“Fuck, Harry,” you moan as he grabs your other hand and pins it above your head. “I-I’m close.”

He groans, pumping faster and rubbing his finger against your button. Your moans get louder and more high pitched as Harry makes you cum. Your nails scratch down his back, feverishly kissing him and clenching around him, making him release his seed into the condom, pumping a few more times before pulling out of you and rolling off the bed. He disposes of the condom and slides under the sheets, pulling them over your body.

“Wow,” is all you say, panting as you drape your arm over your eyes.

“Yea?” he asks, chuckling, pulling you flush against his chest. You take your arm off your face and cup his cheeks, planting a soft kiss on his swollen pink lips. You pull away and Harry can’t help but think about how beautiful you look, all fucked out and bleary-eyed.

“Didn’t hurt ya, did I love?” he asks, unknotting your hair with his fingers.

You shake your head, burying your face into his sticky chest.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah Harry?” you whisper.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckle at him, pulling away from him and looking into his emerald eyes, full of adoration from only you.

“Of course I will, Mr. superstar” Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses you softly and sweetly, caressing his hand up your back. He grins into the kiss at your little nickname for him.

Harry watches you as you fall asleep in his arms, and at that moment, he knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you.

Soft breaths against your face wake you from your slumber the next morning, and your eyes meet the gorgeous sleeping man next to you. He looked so peaceful and perfect that when you needed to use the bathroom, you had to carefully slide out from his arms. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the pout that graced his sleeping face when you left his arms.

You grab his shirt from the night before and shuffle into the bathroom, taking your time to pee and wash your face and fix your hair before pulling Harry’s shirt over your arms and buttoning it over your body, leaving a few open at the top.

You saunter out of the bathroom to find a sleepy Harry squinting his eyes at his phone, trying to read the bright numbers. He perks up at the sound of the door and shamelessly checks you out, the tops of your thighs peeking out of his shirt that hung so nicely on your frame.

“G’ morning beautiful,” he rasps, his voice tired from sleep. You climb back into bed and he wraps his arms around you. “How’re you feelin’?”

You trace your fingertips over the few tattoos he has. “A little sore,” you chuckle, motioning to the spot between your thighs, “but other than that, I’m great.”

Harry chuckles at you, kissing your nose and nuzzling his face into your neck, dozing off for a few more moments before rolling out of bed and throwing on a pair of basketball shorts and a shirt.

“Ya hungry?” he asks, flipping through the room service menu as you look for your panties.

“Sure,” you say, pulling the lace fabric up your legs and clipping your bra under Harry’s shirt.

You slip your dress over your body, keeping Harry’s button up on over top.

Harry and you ate, enjoying each other's company before he called an uber and took you home.

“When are you coming back?” you sigh, sliding your hand down his chest as he walked you to your front door. A deep set frown appears on his face and you try to smooth it out.

“I- I don’t know,” his voice cracks a little bit, pulling your hips closer to him. “I’ll call you every night. I promise this time,” he tells you, sealing it with a kiss. You can’t help the tears that roll down your cheeks.

“Please don’t cry, Lovie. ‘Gon make me cry.”

You bury yourself into his chest inhaling his scent for the last time for a while.

“Here,” he says softly, pulling the S ring off of his ring finger and placing it on yours. “Keep it safe for me, yea? Promise I’ll visit you soon. Need you.”

Tears roll faster down your cheeks as you admire the heavy ring on your finger. You unclasp the pearl necklace from around your neck and put it around his. His fingers caress the material of the pearls before leaning into you and kissing your lips. “I love you so much,” he says into your mouth, eyes stills shut.

The uber driver beeps at you, making you jump. You close your eyes and rest your forehead against his. “I love you too, Mr. superstar.”

did you enjoy this? you can read more of my work here

[mymymadeline]

•Friendly Dark

gif by: @chrishemsworht​​

pairing: Hallmark Christmas Movie Au! Poe Dameron x Reader 

word count: 6.9k+ words 

summary: 

warnings: alcohol cw

Adore You series: 01, 02, 03, 04, ... - AO3

Even though you’re on vacation, you are far from exempt from your work. And nothing is proving that more than the headache you nurse as you continue pouring over document after document on your tablet. Numbers and figures, charts and graphs, blueprints and sketches, even interviews and gossip articles – they’re all blending together after staring at the screen for what’s likely been hours. 

Snoke’s call the night before was not a social one – they never are. He was going on about some acquisition Kylo’s been trying to make for the past few months, and apparently, he was missing something crucial, which is where you usually come in. The two of you have always been a team for a reason. He was more of the passion and ideas, whereas you were better with relations and logistics. 

Snoke had immediately sent over hundreds of digital files for you to go through and find… well something. Most likely some kind of professional blackmail. Some kind of small violation or incident that would really be such a shame if it came to the media's attention. You know, the usual. 

So far, everything they’ve done is up to code, as far as you can tell. But Snoke won’t take no for an answer. He’d have your head for it. So you continue looking through page after page, searching for some dirt, searching for any kind of upper hand on the competition. 

After coming back in that night while on the phone with Snoke, you blew past your parents and went straight up to your room, where you’ve been for almost the entirety of this Sunday. You couldn’t even face them after that absolute embarrassment of an evening. And though this morning you did stalk around the house if only to get a thing or two to eat, you pointedly ignored your mother, only giving your father a small silent nod of acknowledgment. 

Stealing away to your room for a full day of silent, frustrating work was not exactly your idea of a fun vacation back home, but neither was last night. Just the thought of running into Poe again makes you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and stress. He probably thinks you’re an idiot now. Probably never wants to see you again. And who could blame him if he did? 

If you were a different woman, you’d probably have shed a few embarrassed tears in the solitude of your room, but that wasn’t you. Not anymore. So you rub your eyes once again, and get back to work.

You’re back to staring at a tax filing by the company’s CEO from seventeen years ago when a notification pops up at the top of your screen.

Unknown Number

hey! its rose! i got ur number from when you called the shop lol hope thats not creepy

i was wondering if ur busy tonight? i was thinking of getting drinks w/ some friends at Kanata’s! wanna come? i can pick u up since ur ride is chopped ;)

You blink back at the notification. Drinks? At Kanata’s? 

You can’t remember the last time you actually went out with a group of friends, especially for fun. Taking clients you and Kylo were wooing out to dinner was a common occurrence. But fun? They were never.

Another wave of anxiety washes over you. Friends? Who were these friends? Would they like you? Did you know them? Maybe it would be better to just stay and finish your work. Nothing could go wrong if you did that.

You open the message, absolutely ready to type an excuse why you can’t come, when there’s a gentle knock at your door. You already recognize it as your mother by the way she knocks even before she calls out gently. 

“Love? You in there?”

“I’m here.” You leave your voice flat and emotionless. You need her to know you’re still mad.

“Can… Can I come in?” 

‘No’ dances on the tip of your tongue for a strong moment, but the uncertainty in her soft voice gives you pause. 

“...Okay.”

The door clicks open slowly and your mother pokes her head in, a small, nervous smile affecting her features. You only look at her blankly from your nest of blankets and pillows that have been on your bed since high school.

She steps more fully into the room, closing the door behind her most of the way. She leaves it open just a little, giving the both of you some air to breathe, but also, in a way, making sure not to lock herself in a cage with a wounded animal. 

And she approaches you like one–cautious, hands visible and apologetic. You huff, curled up in the corner of your bed, and try to look anywhere but at her. But she’s hard to avoid as she sits gently on the far edge of your bed and pulls her hands into her lap, looking down and rolling them over one another contemplatively. You two sit like this for a moment, simmering in the uncomfortable tension, but like hell you’re the one with anything to apologize for. 

She lets out a deep sigh. “I’m… so, so sorry… about my behavior last night. I suppose I just… wasn’t handling your absence as well as I thought I was.”

Despite the small sorrow your heart finds at her small and broken tone, the anger–rage even– that has been boiling since the night before claws desperately to be let out. You breathe deeply, and do your best to keep it still in its place. But that doesn’t exclude the fury that seeps into your quiet voice, as you level your gaze with hers.

“Mom, that was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in my entire professional career. I need you to know this.”

She nods understandingly and looks back to her fiddling hands. “Yes. I know. And I couldn’t be sorry enough. I realized...I– I don’t know how to be your mother anymore.” You blink at this. A terrible lurch in your gut crawls into your throat at the sight of the tears silently beginning their descent down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do for you when you're a grown woman who’s accomplished so much on her own without me. I miss you, but I’m not really sure I know you anymore.”

She looks up suddenly at you, her face twisted with grief and regret.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I-”

You stop her, shaking your head, swallowing the lump in your throat, willing the sudden strange wetness in your eyes away. Your voice comes out more choked up than you wish. But whatever wall was up is quickly crumbling away.

“No… Mom, I think I understand.” You look down at your own hands now, picking at your nails nervously, silently discovering the lineage of this habit of yours. You smile sadly at the thought. “I feel that way too sometimes… about myself.”

“Oh, love.” Your mother reaches out, placing her hand on your foot, the only part of you she can reach, and squeezes it gently. She smiles sweetly, her eyes and cheeks still wet, though she’s wiped away the tears.

“You’re not my little girl anymore… but you’re still my daughter, and I’ll love you no matter what.”

You nod, suppressing a sniff as you rub at your nose. She squeezes your foot one more time before standing up and making her way back to the door. She reaches for the handle when you call out. 

“I love you, Mom.”

The smile she sends you is genuine, heartfelt, and warming to your core. It makes you realize how much you truly missed your mother, even if she had her difficulties. “I love you too, girlie.”

With that, she closes the door, leaving you alone with your tablet and the unanswered message. But you know your response now. 

Me

Sounds fun! Let me know what time. I’d love to come, if you’ll have me.

You begin entering Rose’s information into your contacts and her response is almost immediate.

Rose Tico

duuuh! ill get u at like 8ish? and we’ll meet them there! cant wait!

You look down at the message and can’t help but feel a little more at home. 

______________

 You run a hand through your hair, adjusting your outfit for the hundredth time. You’ve opted for something more casual tonight. Something a little more friendly, approachable. You suddenly frown at your reflection. You don’t need these people’s approval. Well, no. But it wouldn’t be so bad to be friendly for once would it?

The two voices in your head continue to battle it out, leaving you frozen in the mirror, desperately trying to understand how you feel in this moment. Anxious? Perhaps. Regretful of accepting this invitation? Maybe. 

Your phone chirps, lighting up on your desk. Glancing over, you see it’s Rose. You don’t need to read it to know it’s just her announcing her arrival, but you pick it up anyway, settling down on your bed and slipping on your shoes as you open the message.

Rose Tico

here!!! right in front lol

Me

One moment!

You lace up your boots quickly, practically sprinting out of your room and down the stairs, snatching up your long coat on the way. 

“I’m headed out, I won’t be back until you guys are already in bed. So, goodnight.”

You call out to the living room as you pull on the coat, your parents turning from their seats on the couch, eyeing you with interest.

“And where are you going this late, young lady?” Your father questions sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

“Out with friends,” you rush, already halfway out the door, spotting Rose in her car and giving a small wave. “Love you, bye!”

Half-jogging down the steps, you cross quickly but cautiously through the snow-laden yard, careful not to slip. As you close the gate behind you, Rose is already opening the passenger door from the inside, beckoning you in.

“Get inside, it’s freezing!”

You allow yourself a small laugh and slide into the seat next to her. Pulling the door closed, you look around, taking in the space of the car, as she starts it back up and pulls away from the curb. 

Like most things in The Base, it’s worn and old, peeling and chafed, likely held together with duct tape and love. But despite all of its imperfections, it’s not only comfortable, it’s cozy. It’s warm and personal, every dent containing a story, every mile meaningful. 

You can’t help but think back to the chill rigid efficiency of your TIE. Sure, it gets the job done, and is mighty stylish while it does so, but you’ve never felt like it was yours. Never felt anything but cool indifference for its sleek lines and dark exterior. 

“So, you’re looking snazzy tonight.” Rose pulls you out of your thoughts with her cheery tone. 

You look down at your outfit, once again tugging at its hems. 

“Am I? I was actually trying to dress down.”

She laughs at that. “You think that’s dressing down? No way, this is dressing down.” She takes one hand off the wheel, gesturing at her own attire: A brown button-up with a sewn name tag and a pair of dark cargo pants. Likely the uniform she wore to work today. Her cool attitude and smooth voice put you at ease, and you can feel your guard begin to lower. 

“I like this on you,” you quietly praise. You pick at your nails, continuing, “Don’t take this the wrong way, please, but… I admire that you can wear clothes like that and feel comfortable. I feel like I have to dress up all the time, no matter what. I don’t know… I- Nevermind.”

You look up at Rose and she pulls her eyes away from the road for a moment to give you a meaningful look. She nods sympathetically, her previous lightness replaced by understanding. She realizes the weight of this seemingly minor admission.

“I get it, I do.” She gives you a soothing smile. “I just hope you can feel comfortable here… with us. We like having you back, even if just for a moment.”

Still smiling, she turns back to the wheel with a light shrug. “Plus, this isn’t Canto Bight. You’ll look great no matter what.”

You groan, half sardonic, half-serious. “Oh, please don’t remind me. You know, I thought I was a vulture, but those people,” you give an audible shiver. “They’re something else.”

Rose laughs melodically. “Oh, do tell.”

______________

 The ride to the bar is short, the car only really needed for warmth, but the company is appreciated. Rose laughs along to your story of once attempting to cover for Kylo’s drunken rage in front of investors, and while it was a very unamusing situation at the time, you find yourself chuckling with her. 

“Well, that’s why we don’t let him have Bespin Fizzes anymore.”

Rose giggles at that, before piping up in her seat a little. “There it is!”

The bar comes into view just ahead, a familiar neon sign reading Kanata’s hanging overhead a small brick building. The parking lot is compact, but practically full, reminding you just how small the town is, as Kanata’s is the only real bar in the whole Base, and as such, is the town’s favorite happy hour hangout. 

She leans up the dashboard, pointing to an old, grey, junky Corellian that’s as familiar to the town as the bar. 

“There’s the Falcon,” she points out with a smile, though you don’t need her to tell which car it is. “They’re here.”

You nod, smiling at the old hunk of junk fondly, before suddenly realizing what the Falcon’s presence implies. She pulls up to the spot next to it as you turn to her.

“Wait, we’re getting drinks with Han? ” You try not to sound upset, only curious, but Rose reads your panic easily. 

“No, silly,” she giggles, and seems to dodge the question, stepping out of the car. You quickly follow behind, stepping out into the chill night air. Closing the doors, Rose rounds the car and you trail next to her, past the Falcon and towards the bar's entrance. She continues her explanation without you having to ask. 

“About five years ago, Han gave the Falcon away.”

“He gave it away? Why would he do that? To who?” 

She pushes open the door, leading you into the dimly lit bar, which you only now realize with its unfamiliar interior, that you never stuck around to be old enough to actually enter it. The lights are low, yellow and red, but not unwelcoming, in fact creating a warm atmosphere. It’s brightest around the bar itself, with neon and string lights, as patrons sit on the stools, chatting over the low playing jukebox on the far side of the room. Near it are a couple of pool tables, busy with players in the middle of games. A few locals drink in booths against the walls, however Rose leads you towards the high tables and stools in the middle of the room. You’re scanning the bar for anyone you recognize when you finally see where she’s leading you– to the only couple occupying the tables, and your heart drops into your stomach as your fight or flight instinct kicks in. 

“To them!” Rose points but once again you don’t need her helpful hand to see what you need to.

At the table is a girl you don’t recognize with a sweet face and dark hair, but it’s the familiar face next to her that makes you want to run.

Finn, your old classmate, but more importantly your old employee, sits smiling and laughing, casual as anything. You knew Finn left First Order – on very bad terms, one would be remiss to forget – after a fateful trip home for somewhere less cutthroat and competitive, but you thought that meant somewhere like Alderaan. You didn’t think he’d come back, and you certainly didn’t think you’d actually see him here.  

Rose doesn’t notice your hesitation, continuing to pull you forward and calling out to her friends. She catches their attention, waving, and you brace for the moment of impact. 

Finn is going to be mad that you’re here. He’s going to be furious. He’s going to stand up and yell at Rose about how awful of a person you are and make sure nobody in this town will even so much as smile at you ever again. He’s going to laugh in your face and tell you to go back to Coruscant and you’ll do it because you’re so deeply embarrassed.

The girl turns first, smiling and waving back at Rose. She grins brightly at you as well, obviously unfamiliar but still friendly. Finn turns second with an easy expression, glancing at you briefly before doing a double-take. His face falls, but not into anger like you expect. It drops to confusion, like he’s making sure it’s you, which then turns into half-smug disbelief, a bewildered smile taking over his features. 

Finn speaks first. “No-freaking-way.”

Tension still wracks your body as he steps off the stool, meeting you and Rose in front of the table. Rose looks between the two of you before dropping your hand and covering her eyes.

“Oh my God, I totally forgot about the whole…” She looks to you apologetically, not towards Finn, which confuses you. “I’m so sorry I forgot to say.”

“No, I- it’s okay. I just hope I’m not intruding.” It seems that this town just loves to leave you at a loss for words.

Finn laughs, seemingly completely at ease. “Not unless you’re here to talk about work. Or to try to win me back.”

“God, no. Not that we wouldn’t love to have you back but,” you glance quickly at the friendly girl still sitting at the table, obviously confused. “I understand that you’re much happier here.”

“That I am.”

“Then that’s all I care about.”

Rose absolutely buzzes with energy at the exchange. “Yay! So we’re all still friends and everything?” Her hands are clasped and her hopeful eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you. 

You turn your gaze back to Finn, hoping that you look as genuine as he does. “I hope so.”

“I don’t see any reason why not,” He smiles warmly at you, offering his hand. “Besides, you weren’t exactly the one that left me with a bad taste in my mouth.”

You take his hand easily, and just barely manage to quell your surprise when he uses it to tug you into a warm hug. The recent bombardment of hugs you’ve received in the past few days is the only thing that gets your arms moving properly, wrapping loosely around Finn for a moment before you part. 

As you pull back, an awkwardness comes to hang in the air as a silence settles between the four of you. You suddenly remember the girl at the table seemingly the same moment that Finn does. He pipes up, turning towards her and half leading you to the table where they were sitting. 

“Right, uh, Rey, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine.” 

You extend a hand and introduce yourself to the woman, Rey, and she lets out an awkward laugh as she takes it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was a bit, erm, hesitant to intrude on the moment. Seems like there’s a lot of history going on here.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Finn laughs before his nose scrunches up in thought. “Actually, you might have some idea. You know the place I used to work before we met?”

Rey’s face twists in disgust. “You mean that awful tech company? God, you couldn’t stop talking about how awful it was for almost a year. Must’ve been terrible. Did you work there too?” 

She looks to you as your cheeks heat up and you can't help the grimace that creeps into your expression. “I actually still do.” 

Finn opens his mouth but Rey beats him to it. “Oh no, that must be awful. What do you do? Get yelled at all day by some tall blonde woman like Finn did?” She chuckles at her own joke, but she’s the only one. Finn and Rose look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Probably at the bar. With strong drinks. Yet, you feel a chill indifference wash over you. The one you feel whenever you walk through the doors of the First Order offices and meetings. 

“Actually I’m the COO.”

Rey’s jaw slackens with the shock, mouth starting and stopping any words she attempts to get out. “I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” Finn has his head fully in his hands and Rose looks like she might die. But you smile softly.

“It’s okay. I’ve heard far worse before. From people whose opinions were far more important.”

The urge to storm out tugs at your gut but your feet stay planted. It’s strange. You’re not quite sure what emotion it is that you’re feeling exactly. There’s anger, but it’s the blow to your pride that fuels it. There’s certainly embarrassment. Mostly, you realize it’s guilt. Guilt that the company you worked so hard to build has hurt people - people that you care about. You knew it happened, probably every day, probably right at this moment, but being faced with the conversations that people must be having behind your back… It hurts. It hurts in many directions. 

“Drinks!” Rose chirps loudly, desperate to break the tension. “I’ll go get us some drinks!”

She spins on a dime and immediately heads towards the bar. Looking between you and Rey, Finn gulps. “She’ll probably need some… help with those…” He’s immediately out of his chair and trailing behind Rose. 

Rey sits quietly, a thoughtful look on her face as you finally take a seat on the stool across from her. The silence hangs for a moment as the jukebox croons quietly in the background. 

“I really didn’t mean it that way,” Rey starts quietly. “It’s just…” She leans towards you, elbows resting in front of her on the table. Her eyes are earnest, kindness pouring forth. “Finn was miserable when we met in Jakku. Work was stressing him out to no end, but mostly… he felt like he was hurting people. He had a stable and successful job but… what did it cost him? All he ever wanted to do was help people.” She sighs, and a small smile tugs at her lips. “I like to think I helped him, but really, he knew all along what he had to do. I’m so grateful that we’re both here now, working with the kids, helping people where it feels like it really matters. I can’t speak for you, but it sounds like you’re proud of your company, and I’m glad but… It just wasn’t right for Finn. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

You’re momentarily stunned by her small speech. Not just the words but her honesty. You can tell from the tone of her voice just how much she cares for Finn and how much she believes in their cause. You find a small stain on the table, gazing at it intensely in thought. You’ve just wanted to help people too, all your life, but making something of yourself always came first it seemed. You told yourself you were helping people, creating new things that made so many people’s lives easier, donating intensely to charities, but how many people were you hurting on the way? How many times can you tell yourself that some eggs must be cracked to make an omelette? How many people have you screwed over, blackmailed, and outright stolen from? How many shady people have you bought from or sold to? How many things have you ignored or swept under the carpet just to keep business running as usual?

“If it helps… Finn always spoke highly of you.” 

You look up as Rey draws you out of your thoughts, something she obviously picks up on going by her smile. 

“Well… He’s a good man. A good friend before he was an employee… I didn’t mean what I said either - about your opinion not mattering. That’s not true, I just…” You trail off, but look up to find comfort and forgiveness in her warm expression. You give her a small genuine smile of your own. “Maybe we should just start over.”

You extend a hand, introducing yourself and she does the same, laughing lightly as she does so. At that moment, Rose and Finn come shuffling over, each balancing a tray with a few colorful drinks and rounds of shots. Placing the trays on the table, Finn eyes your smiles and parting hands. 

“Are you guys… Is everything good now?”

You nod, laughing. “Yes, I think we just got off on the wrong foot.”

“And we’re just here to have a good time and hang out - no work talk.” Rey winks at Finn. He lets out a hearty laugh, clapping you two on the back. 

“Oh, you two are good.”

“Actually, there’s one more thing,” Rose cuts in. She looks absolutely tickled pink, poorly suppressing her roguish grin. Finn and Rey raise an eyebrow in unison, seemingly used to this behavior. 

Rose giggles, “I invited Poe!” 

You instantly feel your heart rate pick up and a gentle heat rise in your cheeks, but it seems your the only one excited about this development. Rey only sighs with an unamused laugh. Rolling his eyes, Finn shakes his head, “That’s not exactly a surprise.” He turns to you. “She invites him out every time. And every time he says no. ‘Too busy.’”

“He never just relaxes,” Rey chimes in. “We’re constantly inviting him out, even inviting ourselves into the shop occasionally, but he’s just so dedicated to his work. It’d be admirable if it wasn’t so annoying.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Rose waves her hands around, as if attempting to dispel the negative comments in the air before they reach you. “BUT… I told him a certain special someone was gonna be here!” 

Finn and Rey both turn to you, Rey holding an expression of curiosity and Finn looking at you with new eyes, the gears turning almost visibly in his head. Did she mean you? Everyone seems to be looking at you expectantly so… she must be. Sure, Poe seems to like you well enough but… This is behavior that seems to have been going on for years. How could your presence possibly change that?

“Wh- Me?” You ask, turning to Rose at a sudden loss for words. “Why- What makes me special?”

Rose rolls her eyes so hard her head can’t help but follow. “You are so oblivious. And so special.”

Finn nods, with a grin you can only describe as ‘shit-eating.’ 

“Of course.” He bites his lip deviously. “This is gonna be so fun.”

“Really wha-”

You’re cut off by the sound of the blowing snow and wind as the door creaks open behind you. As if on cue, each of your heads swivel to the entrance to see the door swinging shut behind Poe shaking the snowflakes out of his hair, cheeks ruddy from the outside cold. He looks up from tugging his gloves off to see the four of you gawking at him. If he can tell he just walked in on a discussion of himself, he doesn’t show it. He practically beams at the four of you, but lets his eyes settle on yours.

“Hey guys.”

“This is gonna be so fun,” You hear Finn whisper behind you. 

You fail miserably at trying to hide your smile, but you know it’s for the best. 

______________

 “God, I know it’s embarrassing but... that’s so funny.” Rey chuckles with red cheeks, thoroughly amused.

“But it’s so embarrassing,” You exclaim, a little louder than you’re usually comfortable with but the drinks you’ve been slowly consuming for the past two hours have loosened your tongue just a bit. 

Finn continues to shake his head in laughter. “I do love your mom, though. I wanna thank her for that one. A proper Base welcome.”

“C’mon, it really wasn’t so bad,” Poe laughs. 

Once he’d arrived, everyone made quick work of getting him a drink and dragging over a stool, planting him firmly and snuggly between you and Rose. Small pleasantries and catching up eventually turned into you and Poe recounting the previous night's dinner and conversation at the strong behest of the rest of the group. It mostly consisted of you complaining and apologizing to Poe and him simply laughing it off, attempting to placate your worries. Finn, Rey, and Rose simply watched in entertainment, soaking up every juicy detail. 

“Really, you have to stop beating yourself up about it. You’ll drive yourself insane.” Poe places a hand on your shoulder, sending a little shiver of electricity through your body that you desperately try to curb. You look down at his hand on your shoulder and are struck with the desire to see it as often as possible. Meeting his eyes, they are warm and kind and cause you to immediately lose whatever it was you were going to just say. You are now very aware of just how buzzed you are. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” You give him a small smile and he accepts it readily, his own smile growing. Over your shoulder, Finn must catch his eye because he swiftly turns his head back to his drink on the table and clears his throat. His hand gives you a small pat and quickly retreats back to his lap. His hand makes a loose fist and you miss its warmth. 

“Well,” Rose starts. “It’s getting late and I am so beat. I should get going.” 

Rose gives a meaningful glance at Finn and Rey, “Isn’t it a school night? You guys should get going too. Don’t want to have to show a video tomorrow.”

Finn’s eyes widen a bit and Rey nods fervently. 

“Yes, absolutely. You’re so right, Rose.” Finn begins standing up from his stool. “C’mon, Rey, we should be off.”

Those fucking conspirators. You know you should be grateful - they’re trying very hard to set you up with your high school crush - but all you can feel is panic. You’re an expert at talking to people, from brokering deals to conducting yourself in interviews and even giving presentations, you’ve trained and practiced in the art of discussion. But for some reason, just being in the same room as Poe makes your brain short circuit. Your mind constantly pulls back and forth whether to close off and shut him out or loosen up and actually let him in. It’s barely been three days but it feels like so much longer. And that’s terrifying.

“Uh-Wh- Are you guys okay to drive?” You sputter.

Finn sends you a reassuring smile as he grabs Rey by the shoulders, “Rey might not be in any state to drive, but I’m totally fine. I’ve had maybe two drinks in the past couple hours. Don’t worry.” 

Rose is off her stool too, gathering her coat. “Could you maybe drop me off too? I’d just walk but it’s so damn cold.”

“No problem, Rose.”

“What about me? I’m supposed to walk then?” You interject, flustered. “Rose, you drove me here.”

Rose gives an exaggerated look of cluelessness, giving you a shrug before looking over at Poe.

Breaking his momentary silence, Poe gives you a nod. “Yeah, I can give you a ride if you want.” 

You can only nod along. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you.”

Rose lets out a little squeal, scrambling over to give you a kiss on the cheek and skip out the door, calling out goodbyes over her shoulder. You can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh along with Finn and Rey, both of them giving you and Poe sidehugs before taking their exit as well. 

As the doors swing shut and the silence between you settles, you glance around at the bar. There are about half as many people as there were a few hours ago but the place doesn’t feel empty by any means. The few patrons still mill about, some playing pool, some chatting at the bar. You sigh contently at the sight, something Poe catches as he watches you.

“Good to be home?”

You look over, momentarily studying his handsome features in the warm lights as you try to figure out how to answer his question. 

“I don’t know. Like I said before, it’s not really home. And yet it is.”

He nods, thinking for a second. “But are you happy to be here?”

You eye him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m starting to be.”

“Well, I’ll drink to that.” He grins, holding up his bottle. You meet his with your own, both taking a swig with a smile.

As you settle your drinks back on the table, Poe leans over with a lowered voice. Your pulse thrums in your veins. “You know, I actually had a great time last night, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

You sigh with chagrin, momentarily closing your eyes to rub at the spot between your brows. 

“Well, I’m glad you had so much fun at my expense.” 

Poe leans away, shutting his eyes in his own embarrassment. 

“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.”

You chuckle lightly, a sound that gets Poe to open one eye before breaking into a smile, laughing with you. He leans in again, still smiling but a serious tone overtakes him.

“I really understand if you don’t want to talk about it but… What was your mother talking about… with Ben?”

You feel like a bucket of water has been dumped on you, ruining the easy-going mood you’d let slowly wash over you for the past few hours, but when you look at him, you can’t help but want to tell him everything.

“I just… I’ve only heard bits and pieces about what happened after you graduated. You really… disappeared.”

“Not disappeared,” you say quietly, with grit in your voice. “They just started paying attention to me somewhere else.”

“I paid attention to you,” Poe murmurs. When you catch his eye, he corrects himself. “I mean, we all did.”

You smile sadly, “Yeah, this is different.”

Poe gently knocks your shoulder with his, making you let out a snicker. Glancing over, Poe levels you with a genuine look, with soft eyes and a smile. “I get the feeling you don’t talk about your life often. So, tell me about it.”

He’s right. You never talk about your life, you certainly never regale your story to whoever asks. Doing that requires you to be vulnerable, it requires self-reflection and introspection. It requires you to think about things that you’ve long locked away inside. But… 

“Well, I’m not sure how well you remember, or if you ever noticed but… no one ever really talked to me. Then one day, Ben did. No one ever really talked to him either, so we made a fast pair. He was odd... but he was a real friend to me. I wouldn’t have traded that for anything.”

Poe nods understandably, encouraging you to keep going. 

“We decided to stick together. We got into Imperial University together and got out as quickly as we could. Neither of us… We couldn’t stay here, not with what we planned on doing with our lives. This town… it just wasn’t for us.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot. I get that, too.” Poe takes a drink.

“You do?”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another time. Keep going.”

“We learned at school that we worked really well together. Our mentor Snoke realized that, too. He led us, taught us, molded us. He helped us build our company, First Order Tech. He was our first investor, he still sits on the board of directors. Kylo… Ben may be the CEO, but Snoke is still in charge of both of us to this day. It’s our company, we created it from the ground up but… We still bow to him.”

You shake your head. Time for the hard part. Might as well get it out quick and easy.

“Somewhere along the way… I don’t know if it was love. It wasn’t love how it should be - I can tell you that. But, Ben and I… were together. And then he proposed. I don’t think it was because he wanted to. I think he just thought… he was supposed to. Just the natural progression of our lives, I guess.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until the teardrops reach your chin, where they hang heavily before dropping onto your lap. You quickly wipe them away, as Poe once again places a hand on your back, but this time it stays there, his thumb rubbing comfortably back and forth.

“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

“I just,” You sniffle, wiping your nose. Way to break down just as he was warming up to you, kiddo. “I’ve never talked about this before, not really. I don’t even think I’ve ever cried over this before.”

“Anyway, I somehow became lucid enough to call it off a few months before the wedding.” 

You sniff wetly and press the backs of your hands to your eyes, your makeup no doubt ruined by now. Poe’s thumb keeps its motion.

“I just wanted it so bad,” Your voice cracks. The lump that had been caught in your throat breaks free in the form of a sob. “I let myself be blind because I…”

Your hands are shaking and tears run freely down your face.

“I wanted to be loved. And I thought that’s how I would get it. But I woke up.” 

You drop your hands onto the table, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You clench your fists and your voice no longer trembles.

“And I’m glad I did. We’re both better people for it.”

Only now do you chance a look at Poe. You had kept your gaze down, too scared to find what his expression might be, too scared to read his thoughts on his face. But his hand had stayed planted, comforting you. That had to mean something, right?

Looking up, you see only his warm gaze that had assured you deeply enough to get you talking in the first place. It carries a sadness, a kind of worry in the crease between his slightly upturned brows. But you find no disgust. No pity. 

“I wish I knew what to say.”

You chuckle wetly, “You don’t have to say anything. I understand that it’s a lot.”

His hand makes a broad stroke across your back as he leans in once again. 

“There’s actually a lot of things I want to say, but I’m sure you’d hate all of them considering they all sound like condescending things your mom has probably said to you over the years.”

A genuine laugh bubbles out of you at this, a bright smile pulling up your wet mascara stained cheeks. Seeing this, Poe can’t help a smile of his own.

“Things like ‘you’re so brave’ and ‘you poor thing’?” You giggle.

He chuckles, “Yeah something like that, the usuals.”

“Well thank you for sparing me.”

“No problem.” He pauses for a moment. “But really, thank you for telling me.”

He sounds like he means it.

“Thank you for listening, Poe.”

And so do you.

You sit like that just for a moment, gazing at each other. You take in the small details, admiring the creases around his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the curls in his hair. He seems to be taking you in as well, his eyes flickering across your features. You see them linger on the stains of your cheeks, turning your head away subconsciously. 

“Ready to go?” He asks softly. 

You smile and nod, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

You wobble just a bit as you get up from your seat, but Poe’s hand is still there to steady you. It stays there as you walk to the door. Stepping out into the cold, you instinctively huddle against him, a move he readily accepts as you walk.

“I’m not always a sad drunk, I promise.”

You feel the rumble of his chest as he laughs gently at your small joke.

“Don’t worry. I believe you.”

The ride is comfortably silent, except for the low hum of the radio as you drive. Pulling up to your house, you want to say something, do something, to thank him for what he did tonight. For driving you home, for listening to you and comforting you as you practically sobbed in his arms, for coming to the bar at all, supposedly just because you were there. 

But you don’t do anything.

“I’ll see you around,” is all you say. 

You hear him swallow as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll see you.”

When you finally slink upstairs and collapse in your bed, you still feel the phantom touch of Poe’s hand across your back. 

-

notes: Whew! Thank you SO much for reading and thanks to all the people who stuck around! It’s been such a long and hard year and I hope everyone is doing okay. I’m determined to make this year great and I hope you all will join me!

I understand it’s been forever so if you’re on the taglist and would like to taken off it, hit me up and I’ll totally understand - and if you’re not on the taglist and would like to be leave a reply or send me a message! love you all <3

taglist: @ikbenplant @jamesdeerest​​ @fortheloveoflamp @operation-spot @asianravenpuff @whovianayesha @ultrunning @nowheredreamer @honestlyjustwow​ @badwolf-212 (for some reason i can never tag you properly :( ) 

[quolant]

tee & bee on sports night (1.08)

hey we're tee & bee and ur reading abt sports night on tumblr — where @thxngam live reacts to sports night in 2021 and sends me stuff and i post it

sports night (1.08) — thespis

Why is there a 24 pound frozen turkey in the light grid?

Ah

Dana defrosting a turkey on the light grid seems insanitary

I don’t eat meat so I don’t actually know how defrosting a turkey works but that doesn’t seem clean

Or safe

What if it falls?

Somehow, making a dry run on a turkey seems exactly like a Dana thing

Casey’s a moron

“Alberto Salazar wins his second New York marathon?”

MORON

Literally a moron but I love him

Jeremy why are you talking about Thespis?

THE LOOKS ON ALL OF THEIR FACES

“Tell me I wasn’t supposed to know that?”

Also I find it surprising we know the exact date the first words spoken in a play were 

I’m very curious as to what happened on November 23 for Dan and Casey

Is it their anniversary or something? And I don’t even mean that in a joking way

Bee has prepared me that this ep might be tough? But I also don’t know why at all so I’m just anxious

Isaac babbling about his son in law rehearsing the route is very sweet

I have a soft spot for grandpas and he’s about to be one so

Still her voice tho

OMG IT IS THEIR ANNIVERSARY

“We didn’t do anything untoward?”

Casey is being kind of an asshole abt it

It clearly means something to Dan

“Impersonating my ex wife has never won a place in my heart”

Casey I hope u realize how gay it is for you to be having relationship spats with ur boyfriend

I can’t believe Sorkin wrote this and then expected us to believe this was a totally platonic relationship 

“There’s a god of gymnastics?”

Damn

They look impressed at Jeremy!

Tbh I am too

He’s a nerd

Casey’s still being an asshole

“I remember at the time not thinking you were a woman.”

And that’s just sexist 

Oh fuck

I feel so bad for Isaac

And his poor daughter

THE TURKEY FELL

THEIR FACES IM CRYING

Is this whole ep going to be over their broadcast bc this is slightly boring ngl 

Dan is so mad lol

Omg now they’re fighting

I’m nervous

“What was good enough for Lisa?!”

I’m scared 

Oh god Casey left angrily

Okay, he’s talking to Isaac

Isaac still looks gutted tho 

Which is understandable

I’m scared for him

Okay okay okay did they not realize comparing the elderly man and his wife’s issues to two young, kind of queer coded friends’ fight was very VERY gay?

It makes Dan and Casey seem even more like a married couple?

“You gotta show people how you feel about them Casey.”

DOES NOBODY REALIZE THAT THAT SOUNDS LIKE ISAACS SAYING CASEY SHOULD TELL DAN HE LOVES HIM?

“You make a gesture. You remember an important date.”

THIS! IS! SO! MARRIED!

“Small price to pay for what you get in return. For what you get in return, it’s a steal.”

JFC

I don’t even know what to say 

Aww Isaac and Casey are hugging 

That was the sweetest scene

This Thespis thing is incredibly entertaining

Dana is losing her mind and I love her 

“You can’t just make it my business”

“Well I-I just did!”

I’m using that

I don’t know when but I’m gonna work it into conversation

Also it’s very kind what Jeremy is telling Dana

I’ve never celebrated Thanksgiving but it’s good someone’s shocked Dana into not worrying about her mother 

“For a guy who’s read the Hobbit 14 times you’re not so dumb.”

LMAO DANA

Also those four minutes are over I’m pretty sure this is way longer than the time Natalie told them they had free 

“I was going to buy you some flowers in the way back frim the control room-“

For someone who listened very attentively when Isaac was taking to him, Casey’s still being a dick

Oh okay

Well at least Casey’s telling Dan the truth

“Are you stupid?!”

“You would’ve been great.”

Dan's utter confidence in Casey is kind of overwhelming to watch 

Maybe it’s bc I’m emotionally stunted

Okay now Dans kind of implying Lisa was emotionally abusive

Which idk if it’s true or not but buddy, it seems to be implied that Casey left Late Night to work with you

Which is more of a reflection on Casey than it is Lisa

I’d understand why Lisa would be mad

Late night??

Jfc

“You would’ve been very good.”

“Thank you.”

The looks on both of their faces is just

So sincere

It’s kind of hard to watch

It’s like watching PDA 

“But thanks for saying so.”

The look of Dan’s face is KILLING me

Also I’m still scared for Isaac

“I appreciate the gesture.”

Awwwww

YES ISAAC'S GRANDSON IS HERE

Dan and Casey have cigars in their mouths

I don’t know why but they seem like children

“Ladies and gentlemen…Thespis has left the building!”

Lol Dana was right about the top half of the show thing

I liked this ep but it doesn’t seem like the kind to rewatch

I spent half of this ep in anxiety about several things which was interesting but oh boy 

Anyway

It was good!

I liked it a lot

Happy endings all around

I’m still a little out of wack over that very intense Casey and Danny scene

Also if it weren’t for the fact that this was between two men and if it was a straight couple this would totally be romantic 

The only thing that’s not romantic about this is the fact that they never say it

Other than that it sounds exactly like relationship dramas in straight couples in media

[icharchivist]

Thank you for answering the previous asks and hope you're prepared!

How much, out of ten, are you of each winter troupe member?

Have a good day :3c

ahah thank you for doing that all the way!

and oh boy i thought i was prepared but turns out-

okay notewise.:

Tsumugi: 7/10, Tasuku: 3/10, Homare: 4/10 Hisoka: 9.5/10, Azuma: 10/10, Guy: 6/10

(if you're supprised Azuma is actually my ultimate kin and it's not Hisoka: congratz i fooled all of u. the only reason i don't have an Azuma icon is that i genuinely think he looks too sexy in some arts and it doesn't feel Me despite everything else. The more u know.)

And. i need to warn that i went much more into personal details for Hisoka and Azuma under the cut to the point where it may be overwhelming. And that Azuma's entry alone is 2.1k words long. What the fuck me.

Relating to team "we have so much trauma" is going to be so much fun.

coughs, anyway take care :3c

(Links: Spring, Summer, Autumn , Winter ranking)

Winter my beloved, this is going to be a normal, non emotional ranking at all.

Tsumugi: 7/10 I relate to his lack of confidence, and the way he gave up on everything he loved when his spirit was crushed (re what I was talking about with my Kumon rant). On my down time I did study a bit of psychology and though I wouldn’t put myself at the same level as a psy student I’m often told I read people mostly in an accurate way so I can relate to that. I can use my powers for Evil like nudging people in some direction or knowing where to attack, but I am super aware of that and I’ve been extra conscious about not having it happen again for over ten years now DLKFJDLF (Azuma is kinda like that too). But yeah the fact he is like that too makes it relatable.

I also think that the whole “feeling you fucked up and took all the responsibility when a friendship broke apart” is also something very relatable. So is “ghosting your friends after that”. I relate to the fact he’s a nerd too. I relate to him more than not but I guess I just removed points because of how while I relate to specificities the whole thing doesn’t connect as much as it could?

Tasuku: 3/10 he’s probably the one I relate the least to. I honestly didn’t understand Tasuku much until Nocturnality on my first read, and it’s only then that things clicked. Legit I saw him the way Azuma saw him dLKFJDKFJDF. But I do feel it relatable that he feels responsible for failing his friend and that he took it upon himself to try to read more into how people are behaving to try to prevent it from happening again. But else he’s. genuinely not like me KDJFKLDFJDFL

Homare: 4/10 mhmm. I think I relate to the way he is passionate and how much he genuinely loves. I also relate to the fact he is pretty analytic, though the details of what makes his struggles are not something I relate to easily. I have felt broken before, I was told i was broken or unfit in some ways, so this particular pain is something I completely understand. I also did use to be an artist and a writer so I can relate to that passion of his, although as I mentioned in others ranking *shrugs*. That said he’s very much more exuberant and confident than I am and I would assume I know how to deal with people emotionally a bit more.

Hisoka: 9.5/10 oh boy where to start. This is going to be a tough one to get into without getting extremely personal. To start with, I’m a sleepy baby. I sleep a lot DLKJFDF though not much at night. I used to fall asleep in class all the time my friends had to always be on the watch out for me. I don’t have much energies. I love plushy and I love being comfortable in some places. I also really love sweets tho not as much as him. I also do care ways too much for my specific plushies and pillows (I do have huge penguins plushies too).

I, too, have memories issues, though of course to a lesser extend. I have a lot of trauma and for a lot of them I ended up getting fuzzy memories. I used to be in a pretty toxic environment where I constantly had to make use of my memory to survive, and so when my memory started failing me, I was terrified. My parents gaslight me all the time and pretends a lot of things that happened didn’t happen and that I’m crazy for believing it happened, so the moment my memory started to fail me I started to panic a lot. It terrified me to not being completely sure whenever I could trust myself or not. It made me feel extremely unreliable. It’s still something I struggle with a lot.

This would have been my answer pre-awakening moon at least. I always related to him to some degree so Awakening moon was a slap in the face in a way I wasn’t ready to deal with, and this is where I have to be uncomfortably personal.

I am the youngest sibling of 3. My eldest sister ran away from home when I was 6, never to be seen again. My other sister resented me because I used to be very close to the eldest and she was jealous about it, and while the reasons were linked to our parents, who were extremely toxic to us and kept us into this toxic environment for years on end, my sister took all her anger out on me. While we’ve discussed it as adults now, our relationships is too strained to fix it nowadays.

It took me a long while – it took me Azuma’s arc actually – to realize that the way I feel for my eldest sister is more akin to grief than to abandon. I don’t even remember her. I don’t remember her and still apparently the way I was close to her was the reason my sibling hold it against me. I couldn’t even remember *why* my sister was mad at me because I don’t even remember being close to my sister that much. All I know is that she left because the situation at home was too toxic. It was.. so messy.

I have. Much more trauma linked to that specifically but that’s the root of something that hit me in the face with Hisoka’s arc. Because I can’t remember a person that disappeared from my life, and yet it was enough for it to break and shape everything I’ve lived through since. I couldn’t even start to talk about how it still impacts me now 20 years later. I’m just now making peace with the fact this was grief. This is the gist of the reason Hisoka’s arc hit me as hard as it did (and the fact that Chikage is actively undoing all the bad things his own grief pushed him to do on Hisoka is the reason Chikage is so compelling to me. My sister could never lol.).

I felt also that I had to take all the responsibilities for what happened. I felt like I could make things easier for the family after this trauma, at the rip age of 7, and no one stopped to think maybe a child shouldn’t have to be dealing with a collective family trauma like this. But well. Here we are.

I relate to the fact Hisoka also struggles to accept everything that happened. And that now he’s trying to make things better for others people he can relate to. It’s so… complicated.

Also I can’t forget the fact Hisoka tried to kill himself and :/ as someone who has had a lot of suicidal idealization in my life this really hit a lot harder than it should have.

In general I would just say that socially I’m not really like him except with people I’m comfortable with teasing. Hisoka can be a little too rude and it’s where I can’t relate lol. But otherwise man I care him so much I feel so seen. I’m just removing 0.5 points for that and I don’t give him full mark because of what I’ll explain next.

Azuma: 10/10 This one is going to be a trip. It’s about twice the length of the Hisoka’s rant. Mister took me by the throat too. As I think it’s clear now I cannot relate to the fact he genuinely loved his family and how much his family cared for him. Yet I relate… to about everything else.

On the surface I do think I seem more approachable and easy to talk with. I try to be the kindest person I can be, to not be judgmental. I’m conflict avoidant, just like he can be, and if I’m annoyed with someone I’m muuuuch more likely to use passive aggressiveness like he does with Tasuku when he’s pissed at him. (sidenote: I do find it funny that Tasuku was the only character I really felt I didn’t get until Nocturnality, while Azuma was having the exact same problem, and then he became one of my fav the moment it clicked. Azuma is my braincell.)

More often than not, there’s a smile on my face and I try to be soft in the way I can be. I’m generally pretty calm, I’ve been told I was soothing, or give good hugs, this sort of stuff.

Now onto the heavy stuff.

I have a lot of nightmares and night terrors linked to a lot of my traumas. I’m honestly scared sometimes to go to sleep ^^”. But in general, if Hisoka reflects a lot of a personal trauma and how it would personally affect me, Azuma reflects a lot on how I would behave with others people in general and especially when I’m unwell. I’ve coped most of my life with, everything that happened to me, by just. Trying to keep people at armlength. I don’t want to let people close to me, especially irl. Discussing all of that online gives me a distance that allows me to discuss it but, I remember in high school I was going through very bad things, and a few years later I was hanging out with a friend and I happened to open up about those things. And she was going livid because, she had known me for what, 6 years at that point? And she never knew any of this. We talked a lot then, we were close, but she never knew all those things about me until years later. It kinda scared her because to her I was always a sweet and cheerful person and she never expected that I was doing this badly. I remember then she brought up something we discussed back in a party with many of our others friends from high school and similarly they were all. “how did we never know any of this.”. Seeing Azuma in Nocturnality kinda brought me back to that convo tbh LKDJFLKDFJFD.

But I’m good at pretending I’m closer to people than they think. I’m an excellent listener. A lot of my friends tended to rely on me as the person they could talk about their problems to. I used to do it much more back then but I also used to pour a lot of energy trying to make it easier for people, solving their problems. Full on Therapist Friend:tm:. It does help that, as I said with Tsumu, I have basis in psychology so sometimes some observations I can make help much more than expected. Just like Azu tbh lol.

Oh also I am cuddly with my friends in general. I’m super touch starved but also to the point I feel uncomfortable to seek hugs because I just don’t get any on a normal basis and my body isn’t used, but I’m super cuddly and when I’m with my closest friends I’m like a koala.

And it gives people the impression to people that I’m very close to them because I know them well, and I know the ins and outs of why they behave the way they do. But. I kinda feel like it’s one sided more than not. And it’s all because of me, because I keep my walls up very high and it means people don’t generally expect that I’m hiding things.

I’m good at distracting too. I don’t relate to how flirty Azuma is but I keep seeing it as him distracting others. It’s flattering, and just embarrassing enough that the person ends up dropping whatever they may be pressing on Azuma to talk about. And, while not with flirting, I do that a lot, especially using compliments like that. (That said my kindness or teasing has been misinterpreted as flirting before DLKFJDLKF I’m trying to be extra conscious about not having that misunderstanding happen nowadays but man it happened a lot).

Azuma knows a lot of people, and has been supporting a lot of people, but he doesn’t let people in as much.

And a lot of it is linked to his own sense of grief. Of the fact he has lost so much he can’t afford to go through the pain of losing something again, so he distances himself from it before it can hurt. And I do that a lot.

I mentioned in the previous rant but it’s seeing Azuma’s arc that made me understand how much it’s more grief than abandon that makes it so hard for me to move on. And a part of me kinda just. Grieves the family I could never have, the normal life I wish I could have lived and clang too all of my life. When Azuma told Guy “I was always so lonely. Everyone had families they could take for granted but I had no one.” Oh my god it destroyed me. And how he mentions just afterward that while he has new people to rely on, it couldn’t change the fact he was still feeling this pain of losing his family and it just. Man. Might be crying right now.

It’s like… I think the reason I especially related to that is that, in therapy I’ve often discussed my problems in the lenses of neglect and abandon but the problem with that lenses is that, at least with the therapists I had, they tend to focus on the fact that therefore I /must/ be still yearning for them to change and turn around, like I could change something. But I don’t. I was resigned at some point. And it’s really only when I read that that I felt this exact resignation I have been feeling all that time. I think I mentioned once how reading a3 felt like going one step toward recovery I didn’t know I could get and this was exactly the scene I meant. It legit took a weight off my heart that i've been carrying for decades. It was the strangest feeling in the world.

Anyway more in general too, on top of keeping people at distance, I am also a pro at “suddenly disappearing/ghosting when I get too close and/or have a relapse”. When Azuma starts to pull his relapses like we see in Nocturnality, I see myself. Legit had a friend who read a3 who called me out about that DLKJFDKLFJ. Acting weird like this, closing yourself in like this, coming back to some harmful coping mechanism as a way to connect back with your own self, those are all things I do. And it sucks. Like. The things I put my friends though sucks. But I really can’t help it sometimes.

I’m good at listening and observing, I’m generally good at picking up why people act a certain way, but I’m still very distant. I do everything I can to pretend I’m not distant and generally it fakes an idea of intimacy that I don’t specifically see as such.

And I see all of that in Azuma in ways that are terrifyingly relatable. Another thing Azuma says in this convo with Guy, about how “Everytime I would go to sleep, I would wish the morning would never come” me. Mood. Holy shit. Feel seen. I hate it. Just in general though the way he talks about morning as this terrifying thing is me. Between the night terrors and the fact morning genuinely makes me feel horrible, that’s kinda why I end up oversleeping until the afternoon DLKFJDF Azuma my lord I feel you.

Because of my nightly panic attacks I do try to come up with ways around it mainly by drinking some relaxing tisanes and stuff. Oh and I did have a huge period in life where I HATED being in the sun, and I fucked over all of my melanin because of that. as a kid I would tan very easily, but now the sun hates me as much as I used to hate it. So when Azuma is a drama queen about not wanting to stay in the UV too much I’m just like. How dare you pull out a mirror on me I didn’t ask for this. (also I have been called a vampire by people esp when I was a teen but that’s just how people called edgelords like me. Still. Reo my beloved.)

There is honestly so many little things with Azuma that reminds me of myself like this that it makes me go nuts. If Hisoka is who I relate to in term of specific trauma and how I cope personally, Azuma is more like, the direct physical impact of my trauma on me and the way it makes me relate to others people, as well as just every little behaviors here and there that are just so specific.

One of the only thing I really don’t relate to Azuma about is his love for Alcohol but I think if you replace it with like, my addiction to juice it works out the same.

Oh and, that’s a stupid but funny thing to me, I project hard on how much the reason he keeps his hair long is a form of mental stability for him, because I legit keep my hair long for my own mental stability. I have tied ways too much of my recovery process to my hair that when I see Azuma coping with grief with his hairstyle and how almost cutting it would be him spiraling down, I felt seen.

also i have 0 stamina just like him.

ANOTHER THING is also the fact Azuma is genuinely yearning for connections with people but he spent so much of his life keeping people away that as much as he’s yearning for it, it takes him so long to be able to lower those walls because he’s been so used to keep people away that he can’t reply to this yearning. And the way how, once he actually ends up feeling this bit of vulnerability toward people, he would suddenly shut in like it suddenly scares him? Mood.

One last thing (i promise) (i think) is that, if it wasn't obvious from all my ranting.... So much of myself and the way i view myself is defined by my trauma. I struggle to exactly come to term with my identity in any shape or form that isn't deeply related to my trauma. Even if you asked me what my sexuality is (please don't), my actual answer would be completely shaped by the fact i have so much trauma linked to sexuality, romance and gender, that i don't want to process it at all and can't actually manage to "fit the boxes" because i cannot see myself as something else than my trauma, or explain my feelings without linking it to my trauma. Honestly at times i find it kinda cringeworthy from me because i really, really can't tell about anything about my identity without thinking of my various traumas (i talked about a few of them in those rankings but it's not even the tip of the iceberg for a lot of stuff.) And when i see the way Azuma is in particular, maybe i'm projecting, but i feel like a lot of it is the same. Like not processing his age because if he does it reminds him of how he outlived those he loved (which is an headcanon but com'on.) or how even his hair is linked to his trauma. Or how he doesn't drive because it's linked to his trauma. I feel SO seen.

If it wasn’t for the fact he genuinely loved and was loved by his family, I would have felt exactly the same about everything regarding him.

But I still give him a full mark because the way Azuma’s arc has affected me is beyond any possible words I could use. And also because I legit wrote above 2100 words just on how much I related to Azuma ALONE. Even Hisoka took me 800 WORDS. HELLO. Guy: 6/10 Back to general coping here, Guy isn’t exactly relatable to me except in well. For exemple the ways the others relate to him, especially Hisoka and Azuma. So his memory loss to cope with intense family trauma is relatable to me, the way he can have nightmares and night terrors is also hella relatable to me.

But something that’s more Guy that I relate to is the whole “Step dad kept talking down on him and verbally abusing him until Guy basically completely closed himself in” because man. I won’t elaborate but I’ve really felt from reading that verbal abuse the same way I felt thinking back to how my ex-step dad used to talk to me. It made me so angry on his behalf. And the way he internalized it to cope was something deeply relatable.

Another thing with Guy is the fact that Guy did genuinely believes himself inhuman and tbh there was a time when I was very young where I would catch myself unable to feel a bit of humanity mostly from how I kept shutting myself in. (The reason I don’t relate to it with Homare is that this “inhumanity” was never actually there even if Homare did believe in it. But for Guy he went the extra mile convincing himself to the point where he denied this humanity as far as possible in a self destructive way and :/).

SO YEAH Winter is like. Therapy for me. The problem with “Trauma: The Troupe” is that saying “I relate to the Winter troupe” means “I may have problems and so what.” And it sucks.

if you read that wordvomit, congratulation, was it worth it?

Take care!

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 17: Just Throw em on the Murder Pile

Ah, week one of the Stay-at-Home mandate. After a week of getting so little work done, I decided to get Animal crossing so I could get away from the people I live with to our own little virtual islands. So, I spent my time, fishing so many fishes and bugs for the the museum that wasn’t open yet, placing them all over the island so I could use them later. Went to bed having done all this wonderful work, my masterpiece, my beautiful island.

The next day I woke up an hour later than my brother, who spent that time logging into Animal Crossing, not realizing he was sharing an island with me (for some reason you only get one island per switch, which was a decision they made???) and he was like “the hell are all these fish everywhere?” So he sold all of them, made himself an Oricalchos shirt and a Yami third eye in the fashion editor, and then used all my fish money to buy so many oil drums and put them all over the trash side of his island.

I was asleep one hour. One single hour. It is all trash oil drums and fire and a poorly drawn Oricalchos t-shirt.

Ah, the irony when you get a game to escape the people you live with only to realize that you share the location of the game itself--with those same people. The irony. 

So anyways, we found out that our efforts were futile anyway, long story short we sort of...soft locked this children’s game, and had to restart the entire island. lol.

So while I recover from that shock, lets talk about Yugioh.

They’re still on the Caltrain and Yami is still appearing to have a lot of difficulty remembering how to use cards without Yugi. But, we find out at the end of the episode, he’s mostly just pretending to have difficulty. We’ll get to why this bluff is so mind boggling later--Yami just has a lot of weird layers to him, and most are just so...so lovingly stupid.

Anyway, Timaeus doesn’t work with him now, but honestly it wasn’t clear why Timaeus ever did in the first place since Yami is both two people and a dead person at the same time. Yami shouldn’t exist.

This doesn’t matter in the end, because Yami is good at cards when he isn’t actively trying to get cursed to give himself a handicap like he did with Raphael.

Unlike Yami, Joey decides to reflect upon the moral consequences of Hella Killing a Guy, which youknow...should mess you up a little bit.

But obvi, Rex has to die for the plot to move forward, so RIP.

(more RIP under the cut)

Yugioh made sure to give Rex a big send off that took waaaaay longer than Gurimo, just saying.

Lololololol

Just two u’s, sleeping so pleasantly.

And I’m just guessing, ps, but I feel like it’s a good guess. I feel like this wasn’t like this in the original.

Back at the train that should be crossing the ocean at this point, Weevil has pulled out some misdirection. Knowing that Yami has been misdirecting Weevil this entire time, it is just so baffling that he’d totally fall for this.

If someone did this to Seto Kaiba--that I would believe, instantly. But to Yami? OK there, Yami.

Mind you, Yami is grieving, and he’s not mentally all there in both the literal sense and in the mental sense, but wow, Yami. You fell for that.

Yami has lost his entire mind and is just kind of winging it until he gets arrested.

He has no reason to be better than this. He’s like “FML. I’m gonna go ape, I don’t freakin care”

Like, Yami has this anger problem, which the show has said out loud a few times this season, but we haven’t really seen too often in previous seasons to a great degree. So we have to give him some places where he can demonstrate getting super pissed, to make up for the fact that Yami’s character developed has mostly been about “I’m too lonely and cursed to make friends, Yugi.” and “I’m DEAD, Yugi, I don’t want to learn about my history.” and “Gods why are you always making problems for me to solve for you, Kaiba?”

Not saying he hasn’t been mad and vengeful before this moment, but he hasn’t been as explosive before this season--it’s always been a chill anger, a quietly menacing kind of crazy, youknow? But...characters change. Yami’s developed to be different now and that’s fine. Being pissed someone killed your soul bud that you share a body with, I feel, is a natural thing to be pissed about.

But, Yami is permanently in a state of anger and brooding since Yugi left, despite being pretty chill for most of the past 4 seasons. It’s like the first time we get to experience Yami be Just Yami since the beginning of Season 1 and it’s a completely different Yami anyway.

I guess this is to point out that they really did rely on the other to complete their personality. Which is weird, but that is a thing you do with people that you’re spend a ton of time with--you kind of forget how to do things solo.

Like there was this interesting study where they took married people and asked them simple grade school questions, and they answered them fine when they were together in the same room. But, when they were separated--they suddenly would blank on random stuff. They couldn't remember capitals or multiplication tables--simple stuff. But people who were single, were able to do these things fine alone or with a friend.

People who spend a hell ton of time together learn to help eachother answer the questions as a team, and the parts of the brain you use to like...memorize capitals and multiplication might decay because there’s someone else who will just always do it for you.

So anyway, the takeaway I get from this is that the part of Yami and Yugi that could read if Weevil is lying was Yugi and that’s a lot to take in. Yugi might be smarter than Yami? Weird. Low bar, but weird.

So, Yami won’t need to justify to himself like Joey, he’s just gonna kill this guy outright. Immediately. There was some card shenanigans, and I guess he had the opportunity to beat him even further after he was dead? I didn’t fully pay attention to the card logic but it was so brutal that Tea had to get involved.

She was quicker to save even S1 Seto Kaiba, just throwing that out there. Tea was like “I’ll step in between you two, but I’ll be run really slow about it.”

I think she was more worried about Yami going dark than Weevil who’s...already dead. And again, you don't have to worry about Yami going dark. I say it a lot but he’s a dark wizard. This is kind of his zone.

And then, they actually touched for the first time in like--kind of a lot of episodes. I kind of forgot about this ship.

How come when she’s wrestling him it looks more like a hug than the few times they’ve hugged? These writers, man. They’re just...so close to figuring out how to write a ship but just so, so far away.

I just want to remind y’all that the Oricalchos broke Valon’s arm but Tea and Tristan just walked away because they’re that hulk IRL.

I just love that Yugi is so short that Tea has to be on a ladder below him in order to have this pose happen.

After that awkward moment that Yami lost his entire mind and killed a guy, he had another weird moment where he just...looked down at his hands and was like “I’m the real monster?????”

He didn’t think about the moral consequences until AFTER he killed Weevil. And honestly, that feels a lot more like the Yami I know. That was maybe the most Yami thing he did this episode. Reminder, they got into this train duel while trying to stop a runaway train, and they did nothing about that.

So anyway, how’s this train going?

(San Jose has over one million residents but don’t tell Yugioh.)

And then, sadly, I had to say goodbye to my penultimate favorite character in Yugioh, second only to the storyboarder. Goodbye, forever.

At least the death sequence for the Caltrain seemed appropriately long, as it should be. Rex’s went ON but the Caltrain? Lets get that slowmo pan for it. Goodbye, first train in Yugioh (that wasn’t shaped like a dragon.)

And I just figured it was Darts who did this, but apparently Darts was just as upset as I was when he saw that train derail and then soar 500 feet above the track like a figure skater.

Y’ALL

First off congrats to Darts’ fluffy as hell lower eyelash extensions, I’m lowkey jealous.

Second off, every year on the ballot we get a measure that wants to funnel money into the Caltrain. Every single year. It almost never passes, and when it does, the money sort of vanishes into the aether. It’s really annoying.

To think that THIS ineptitude is what helped Darts loose track of Yami and I’m going to assume save the whole damn world.

I can’t believe the auto lobby and the corrupt Caltrain management just saved the world like that.

I can’t believe that’s Canon to Yugioh.

My expression when I found out that after we just mercifully cut the cast by two, they decided to stick in this new guy?

Ugh a new guy.

So Yugi and Tea do say at the end “you ok?” “yeah” so it’s nice that Tea can survive a train crash off a cliff into a ditch. Tea, and this reincarnated ghost. God tier.

Anyway if you just got here, this is a link to read these in order

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

I feel like I say every week “ah, I finally have time to catch up” but I still post at exactly the same rate anyway but...I guess we’ll see, huh?

[phantom-bleu]

hello,,, :> i'm the anon who requested both walnut and roguefort dbHSHDD is there any cookies u wanted to talk about that haven't been sent in yet ? :0,,,

Anon youre my favourite follower bc of that, whoever u are💖 THIS one is kinda funny cuz i was Just thinking a couple hours ago about how i would literally talk someones ear off abt blueberry pie if they asked cuz i have SO many thoughts. so lets fucking GOOOOOOOOOO

Sexuality Headcanon: LES BIAAAAAAN

A ship I have with said character: Thinking abt bluemoon makes me emit dangerous nuclear radiation . The whole thing about blueberry taking solace in moonlight and like her entire costume expressing her love 4 her is just. SO SWEET HELLO!!!!! i like 2 think moonlight was a regular visitor for the archives bc of “””Research Reasons”””” as she might tell other ppl but really they act Exactly like a couple and they havent explicitly confessed anything 2 each other but they honestly may as well cuz like you dont tell a coworker and acquaintance about how wonderfully her eyes reflect the moonlight its just not done. Tho sadly their different obligations mean its kind of hard 2 make anything work between them but they are truly trying. But. Then the entire population of the city of wizards just goes Poof and moonlight gives everything she has 2 defend it and starts sleeping a LOT to do so. like for years at a time. so blueberry very rarely sees her but she knows shes okay bc the moon is still there and just as bright as it always was and i think her fixation on it is bc thats her only view of the outside And its her only confirmation that moonlights still out there despite not seeing her. That being said i think the whole thing in the first city of wizards event and the full/crescent moon thing would be Alarming lol but i think if blueberry met either of those sides of her then she would still love them very much :) bc theyre still moonlight, theyre just fun quirks that moonlight has and theyre both still very beautiful. And one of my last thoughts is that i think that time blueberry read one of the cursed tomes on a moonless night was a time when she started 2 doubt herself and wondered if maybe moonlight just didnt love her anymore and that was why she never came 2 the archives anymore. Tho the whole curse that followed after was kind of like the world telling her not 2 have those doubts so she still very much trusts in moonlight lol

A BROTP I have with said character: Omg i think her and cinnamon is really sweet i think she would actually Love cinnamons magic tricks. partly bc theres not a whole lot to do in the archives and shes working constantly so any form of entertainment amazes her at this point. But she def can appreciate the skill that goes into doing tricks of the eye like cinnamon does even if she knows its not real magic, she prob thinks their tricks are quaint and thinks cinnamon is very talented. And very kind and fun too! Because they Are 😌 devsisters stop making cookies hate cinnamon challenge

A NOTP I have with said character: theres 1 thats at the tip of my tongue i just cant quite remember it so im just gonna say blueberry/all men entirely. You look at that woman and tell me shes attracted 2 men

A random headcanon: Hmmmm so i imagine her as being old as fuck actually but essentially being frozen in time while in the archives, i think Weird wizard ethics would dictate that once u commit to an important job e.g. watching over the archives your ass will be doing that forever💖 Which wouldnt be an issue if the wizards were still around, i think initially blueberry had a lot of ppl come and go which made her work interesting but then the wizards disappeared. and blueberry is essentially doing her job 4 nobody but she cant leave the archives and has little view of the outside so her perception of time is.... odd. So it took her a very very long time to guess that the wizards might have disappeared lol but even if she had known that it wouldnt make a difference 2 her cuz she wouldnt b able to stop if she wanted to, she still has an oath 2 protect the archives and i think if she left she would break that oath and just. immediately age a few hundred years and die on the spot so its almost a curse in and of itself tbh . Basically i just imagine the wizards werent much better than the witches and did this lady mad dirty. I honestly could go off even more abt the wizards and the archives but like its not directly related 2 blueberry so i wont

General Opinion over said character: i love you i love you i love you i  love you i love you i love you i