#one more stunt and i will NOT spend every second of my life on tumblr blogging about this man ANY LONGET

[zouisexo]

.

[daydreamrry]

hi my loves! hope you are all doing well 🤍 just wanted to let you know that the family and i are okay! the last few days have been difficult, but we are handling this a lot better than what i imagined. my dad is someone who wouldn’t want us to be upset and sit in grief but rather uplift the mood and stay positive which is exactly what we are doing.

here are two positives of the last few days:

the day of the funeral - we came back home around sunset time. the entire sky was purple, literally. purple is my favorite color. it was his way of letting me know that he is okay, happy, and safe.

last night - i have this little tree light in my room. it was off the entire night. i went to the kitchen to eat around 2 AM, came back to my room, and the light was on. i didn’t turn it on, and i was the only person awake at this time. this morning, the light was off again. earlier in the night, i asked my dad to give me a sign to let me know that he is still here and he did. 👼

i believe in God, i believe in spirits, i believe in the afterlife, and i believe that our loved ones who have passed give us these signs as a way to communicate with us. after last night, i feel like all of this pain went away and now i’m overwhelmed with happiness knowing that he is very much by my side.

i saw every single one of your messages, and i thank you all for your kind words. it genuinely put a huge smile on my face. thank you for your support, thank you for your patience, and thank you for being here. i LOVE and ADORE all of you very much. 💗you guys are my second family. and thank you to those who sent me a screenshot of pub anon’s story, it was so sweet!

again, thank you for the endless amount of love. i think what really helped was knowing that i’m not the only person who experienced this. when some of you shared your stories with me of losing a loved one, parent to be exact, it makes me feel less alone. i keep reminding myself that this is life: everyone comes and goes, nobody lives forever in this world. everyone will experience this, it just depends on how you handle it and for my family, we’re staying positive.

yes, i am back to posting asks daily now!!! talking to you all really gets my mind off of things, and that is exactly what i need. i feel like the more time i spend away, the more i overthink. tumblr is basically my escape lol.

alsoooo i’ve been caught up with the whole holivia situation, and i absolutely support the idea of not giving them any of our attention when it isn’t necessary! obviously, we can still talk about the stunt but talking about her/them when it’s quiet is just a waste of time tbh especially since they continue to do the same thing over and over again 😭

[book-o-scams]

Ed, Edd n Eddy Series Bible (1996) -Analysis-

You can all finally read/download Ed, Edd n Eddy's official Series Bible right here! Thanks again to Chuckletons for sharing this with me and to Joey/Kongiscool0518 for sharing it in the first place, the Holy Grail of lost Ed, Edd n Eddy trivia!

One of the first posts I made for this blog was the Series Bible page. It was a composite of every source we had ever seen reference the series bible so far-- storyboarders in interviews, CN's old character guides, and the biggest source, an old CN UK posting about the show. Well, I figure now that we have the official source, I better update the old page (so everyone knows it's out of date), and make this new Series Bible post using the official source! Not much new information, but I was intrigued to finally learn the true phrasings of some things we had only heard paraphrased, as well as at least one detail from the movie that I couldn't believe came up this early in conception...

Unfortunately, Tumblr has apparently updated its post system to only let me add 10 images? Gonna try and only use images for what I need since you can read the actual document above, I guess I'll transcribe it too for easier reference and so we don't ever lose some archive of this.

Quickly, let's review what a series bible is:

A series bible is how creators pitch shows to networks. They can be called “pitch bibles” as well. Bibles do not usually get posted publicly, because they are initially under a strict Non-Disclosure Agreement by the network; also the creator may simply not wish to share it because it reflects the earliest stages of development.

The pitch materials typically include early concepts for characters, locations and episodes. Sometimes it exposes secrets, in this case, Ed and Eddy’s home lives, and sometimes the stuff in it is completely abandoned because it’s so early in production, in this case, casual references to school and adults.

Alright, everybody, it's time to gather 'round and read the Ed, Edd n Eddy Bible!

THE YEAR IS 1996.

YOUR NAME IS LINDA SIMENSKY. YOU WORK AT CARTOON NETWORK. A FRIEND OF YOURS, DANNY ANTONUCCI, IS WRAPPING UP A SHOW ON MTV. YOU GET THIS FAX.

Linda Simensky immediately fell in love with this concept because as a child, she was best friends with 2 other Lindas for seemingly no reason other than the shared name.

I love how Danny decided last second to pencil in the correct names over each Ed, since they're arranged out of title-order.

"They're friends because they have the same name."

-the Logline for the series.

Fun fact: one storyboard artist for the movie observed that the movie is essentially all about challenging the series' original notion that the Eds are friends ONLY because of their name.

"A Danny Antonucci Cartuna"

-the label Danny used to use under announcements of new productions.

PAGE 1:

Ed, Edd n Eddy

They're best friends because they have the same name.

A gag laden, beat generated CARTOON bumper car ride of 3 misfit youths on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs of America.

Through summer vacation, part-time jobs, or just hang'n out at the corner mail box, they want to belong....but CAN'T.

From home chores, helping neighbors or eating jaw breakers, they want to fit in...but CAN'T.

Ed is into "B" monster movies, model kits and is quick to break out into rashes.

Lots of luck...

Edd is into chemistry, biology and prone to crushes.

Later...

Eddy is into pranks, is stylish and flaunts himself to the world.

Ya Right...

Ed, Edd n Eddy is a show about confusion and contradiction, that awkward part of youth, pimples, big feet, oily hair and... girls???.

Puberty is unforgiving.

I was fascinated by the lack of art on this page, it makes the pitch feel very focused. AKA logo in the corner, the title logo again up top, then the logline appears again below.

I really love the breakdown of Danny's vision of the show. "Gag-laden, beat-generated, CARTOON bumper ride." Very accurate, and I think "beat-generated" is the phrase that interests me the most. I typically think of "animation beats" as sort of a give-in-- technically all things fit a rhythm, so all stories are essentially just a montage of beats. But this does make me realize how important the strength of the beats and their rhythm are to the pacing of a cartoon and making you feel like "that was a good one." I feel like the "seasonal rot" viewers feel over the course of a show, and the way that perception differs from person to person, depends on the type of beats you want. Even though I am very into the experimental beats of a show in its later seasons, I can definitely see how season 1's beats are more typically appealing to a wide-audience, and how important a focus on that is to the longevity of a show.

I found it really interesting how the scams are initially conceived of here as "summer jobs." It adds to the sense that adults were originally meant to be present. Honestly a little surprised nobody with access to this bible had ever thought to mention that-- scams are not referenced ANYWHERE. Their image in the Series Bible is that they have summer jobs and help neighbors, which is certainly a much cleaner reputation than the Eds ended up with in the show. Makes me realize though, were some of the early scams, like Ed's Hive Bee Gone and their newspaper routes, supposed to be leaning into this early idea of them with almost legit jobs for unseen adults?

I was very amused by the repeated phrase that the Eds simply CAN'T fit in.

Loved to finally see the official phrasing for the confirmation that Peach Creek is in America. Not much different than I was led to believe, but still nice to have the true quote.

Also love Eddy being described as "stylish and flaunting himself to the world." The bold-print reactions to each micro-description is a cute idea too, I truly wonder who we were meant to picture saying those things in reaction. Each Ed? Kevin?

The "corner mail box" is an oddly specific phrase-- the Eds do hang around mailboxes throughout the series, especially seasons 1-3, and I believe the canon map does have a corner mailbox, but the idea that the Eds hang out at one specific mailbox went the way of Bro's supposed secret treehouses.

PAGE 2:

Ed, Edd n Eddy

Show Description

Gag laden. True cartoon style, inventive, non parody, fast paced, stretch and squash

Beat driven. (even when characters stop they hold with a bounce cycle. Adults never bounce. Music can play important part, not just fill.) But not a musical.

Cartoon surrealism. (viewers see the show as Ed, Edd n Eddy would, less important things tend to blend into the background, while objects of Ed, Edd n Eddy's desires are focused. Premise driven.)

The school year's over, (yeah!!!!) and the long HOT summer vacation begins (gulp). What to do?

Stuck on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs of America is the last place you want to spend summer break, especially when you find life confusing and contradicting.

Ed, Edd n Eddy is about friendship, and serves to remind us that they're no "good ole days," just smelly runners.

You can tackle anything, when your with your pals.

Their days are spent, for knowledge, acceptance and some cash for jaw breakers. Armed with pimples, big feet and oily hair the three amigos trek into the unknown.

Ed, Edd n Eddy are dying to be grown-ups, but they're kids, and attack adulthood as only kids would. Simple situations turn into a manic rollercoaster ride. (Don't forget your barf bag).

They just want to belong, and they're willing to pull off any insane stunt to prove it. First they need to figure out what it is they want to belong to.

Found it interesting that on this page, the show's logo is replaced with the title written in a jumbled font. Seems like the font from the show's end credits.

Hehe, the continued reactions to the descriptions. Allow me to be Double D for a moment and point out the increased use of parentheticals on this page, as well as one wrong "your".

I love Danny's insight that season 1 is framed by the context of how hyped everyone still is just to be out of school, but also the sense of pressure to make use of their break.

I really appreciate Danny getting further into the details of his summary of the show's style on the previous page. It only makes sense that he had this much of a vision that early.

A second confirmation of the cul-de-sac being in America! I'm also really into the repeated focus on the Eds finding the world "contradicting." I always loved how EEnE's inexplicable cartoon antics supported that sense that the Eds are highly aware of contradictions in both societal things and the actual characters.

WOW, so I'm fascinated by this dual reveal. Before the wiggling outlines, which Danny usually calls a "boiling line" and describes as a tribute to wiggling inking in early animation, the series bible instead refers to him wanting the characters to do the iconic Fleischer "bounce," which is a much more commonly recognized rubberhose animation technique. Very interesting that Danny decided not to stick to that. Did it feel too out of place? Or was the overseas team not willing to animate a weight-shifting for every single held pose? Haha, guess I can see why boiling was an easier compromise. I wonder if he had any other ideas for how to make it more of a 1930s cartoon.

The other reveal to me here is that the movie's choice, that adults don't always wiggle in the show, was an idea from the very beginning! I guess I can better understand now why it's just too difficult to communicate a stylistic choice like that overseas-- no point making Bro not wiggle, that'd just create confusion.

Also, really disappointed that my wish for a musical is officially squashed in the series bible itself. That's a tragedy. The show's over, ya couldn't let me dream, Danny!? Conversely, I love Danny's forethought to say "non parody," I definitely noticed and appreciated EEnE's avoidance of derivative parody humor.

My spouse had to point out to me that Danny probably means sneakers here, lol. Canadianisms!

The comments about the Eds wanting to grow up but needing to figure out what they want to belong to are so great and relate to the movie so well. I've heard those comments before, but the correct phrasing was cool to see.

PAGE 3:

Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Ed in right corner)

Character Description

Ed

Attention deficiency syndrome.

He has trouble...

He can't....um...

OK, he draws all day in class.

When Eddy gets a bright idea...Ed's in.

Ed is easily talked into doing Eddy's "hard work". He has great physical strength.

Ed's happiest with his Model kits and B-monster movies. He draws his knowledge from his movies.

Ed smells. Flies are attracted to him.

Ed has sayings for all situations

ED: "you can change your shirt, and Bingo was his name..."

Ed's perpetually a slave to his younger sister's whims and whines.

Ed may have to baby-sit his sister, or let her watch whatever she wants on TV, or let her dress him up in mom's clothes.

Ed breaks out in Rashes. He's allergic to practically everything, especially Guinea Pigs.

Ed's Mom xerox's his sketches and doodles for her therapist.

Ed's Dad hopes to pass on to his son, his knowledge on "pre-owned" auto sales.

Very cute bit wasting the space at the top of the page. Danny seems very invested in Ed's personality already. The old sources we used to have definitely tried to condense these down to simpler blurbs.

Weird how Danny wants to essentially diagnose Ed with ADHD here (phrasing it very poorly, but it was the 90s and... Canada?). I don't know enough on the subject to debate it, but I still gotta point out Ed's canonical cracked skull!

Interested in the comment about Ed being most allergic to Guinea Pigs. I don't think that animal was ever even mentioned in the show. Eddy mentioned an old gerbil once....

Neat to finally have the real phrasing of the official word on Ed's parents! I saw someone comment earlier that this seems to be hinting Ed's Dad is selling stolen cars. I've never thought to question the legality of his apparent second-hand-car dealership (I imagined he works with Eddy's dad, who has received a legitimate award for his salesmanship), but those quotation marks are certainly making Mr. Ed's practices questionable! Best case scenario, Danny meant that more like italics or something, but maybe Ed's dad IS up to no good...

PAGES 4 & 5 (Ed's turn sheet and expression sheet)

PAGE 6:

Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Edd in right corner)

Character Description

Edd

is really smart.

is really quiet.

Edd is unnaturally-- polite.

Edd hasn't been allowed to take gym ever since the Dodge ball incident. He's been excused to free study time in the library.

Edd doesn't like it when people touch his things.

EDD: "You may enter in my room, but don't touch my Lego robot. Thank you."

Edd's learning to play Peddle steel guitar. (his Mom makes him)

Edd's prone to "crushes". Girls in School, in his neighborhood, TV, anatomy books. He mails "true loves" his socks.

Edd is always ready for action, even though he can calculate the implications.

Edd constantly mumbles.

No one ever sees Edd's parents. They both work nights. They communicate to their son solely through Post-it notes. Edd's not allowed to touch anything in the house while they're gone. Anything.

Interesting how Danny slightly differentiates the barely-used space at the top here from Ed's description, to characterize Edd as more quiet and mumbly, adding an awkward "--" mid-sentence, perhaps to create the impression that Edd halts to choose words carefully.

Everything on this page feels familiar, from the character guides and other old sources. The most interesting thing to me here is that Edd's Mom forcing him to practice Pedal Steel Guitar is established this early, don't think I knew that, but I had noticed that it existed in his room from ep 1.

I love how the explanation in the beginning for why Edd goes along with their dumb schemes even though he's smart is basically just "he's always ready for action." ?!? I guess in a way???

That weirdly phrased Edd quote amuses me because it references Lego, just like the original concept background for his room before somebody nixed the copyright-namedrop.

Edd's prone to crushes thing has been reaffirmed over and over in character bios even though it really doesn't come up outside of the cupid magic in HPH and the pilot-episode heart eyes at Sarah that are barely canon. Still, I've always loved the truly disturbing statement that he mails "his true loves his socks" and how that managed to make it into canon with a comic book example, a cel animation example and a digital era example.

PAGES 7 & 8 (Edd's turn sheet and expression sheet)

PAGE 9:

Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Eddy in right corner)

Character Description

Eddy

Exhibitionist.

Megalomaniac. (quote from his report card)

Eddy is the unofficial leader of the trio.

He's always got a plan, a stunt or a weird noise.

Eddy's the "class clown". He loves showing off. He loves being the centre of attention-- no matter how stupid the reason is.

Eddy is the only kid in his grade to have been expelled for aw hole week from school. It was his turn to set up the video for science class. He switched "Our Friend Yeast", for a video he "borrowed" from his parent's room.

Before Eddy's brother went....away, he enlightened Eddy with the "legends" of the neighbourhood. Eddy knows where all the abandoned tree houses are, which sewer pipers are safe to spelunk, and the secret recipe for the "El Mongo Stink Bomb" (it's been in the family for years).

He is the one who is most able to pretend that he knows it all... and doesn't care what anyone else thinks about him.

His genes are working the fastest.

Eddy's Dad is constantly concerned that Eddy may grow up to be a ...figure skater.

Eddy's Mom never believes his little darling was involved in such a heinous act.

Funny choice that Eddy's wasted-top-space is just two one-word descriptions, and allegedly lazily swiped from his negative report card.

Wow, we knew the report card quote and the "Our Friend Yeast" story from the UK show guide, but now we also know Ed's page says that Ed draws in class, and now I realize that Ed and Eddy have series bible school blurbs to match Edd's classic dodgeball incident blurb. Anyway, it's great that Eddy's showed his entire school some sort of sex video his parents have.

Very interested that the phrasing for the Bro/El Mongo Stink Bomb blurb even seems to suggest it's a family recipe. Eddy's Dad did have prankster stuff in his closet in JJJ... did Bro learn his prankster ways from Dad?? The neighborhood's secret tree houses have come up in other descriptions (at best, I'd say this could be related to that creepy shack the Eds found in the woods), but I think it's new info that Eddy personally learned the sewer routes from Bro. Interesting...

Thankfully, I had already heard about the Bible's awkward reference to Eddy being the most pubescent as "his genes are working the fastest," lmao.

Once again the Double D in me comes out to point out that the description of Eddy's Mom seems to switch to the Dad's pronouns.

PAGES 10 & 11 (Eddy's turn sheet and expression sheet)

PAGES 12-14 (Sarah, Jimmy, Rolf, Jonny, Nazz, and Kevin lineup of all 6, then 2 zoomed in lineups of the first 3 kids and last 3 kids)

(Funfact: the kids' designs were allegedly freelanced to an outside studio, hence why their refined later-season designs are so different from these lizardy starting places, lmao)

PAGE 15: (images of Sarah and Jimmy next to their blurbs)

SARAH

Ed's baby Sister.

It's her way or the Highway.

She has everything done for her, if NOT she'll "make" them do it.

She can be quick to judge.

Whinney.

A tatrum for every occasion.

More than a handful for Ed...or Edd and Eddy.

Thinks Edd is kinda cute.

Wants Eddy to MOVE...to another planet.

JIMMY

Sarah's best friend

He is always playing with girls, boys are just too tough.

He is accident prone, when ever we see him he has a different affliction, ie: band-aids, patches, casts, lumps...etc.

He is very clean.

The Ed's frighten him, "They're such brutes".

I'm surprised how much of the UK guide was accurate to what was really in the bible for them! Also surprised Danny misspelled "whiney" and "tantrum," one right after the other. Is this how Sarah spells them? ...Sorry, Danny, I yam what I yam.

PAGE 16: (images of Rolf and Jonny next to their blurbs)

ROLF

First generation of a landed immigrant family.

Nationality not important.

He's proud of his heritage.

He has peculiar traditions and/or customs.

He eats "weird" things.

He has hair on his back..... "yuck".

He confuses the Ed's to no end.

He confuses the other kids to no end.

JONNY 2x4

He is a wanderer and very inquisitive

From early morning to supper time, he is always outside playing, with his buddy, "Plank".

"Plank" is a wooden board that Jonny drew a face on with a crayon.

Jonny has wonderful conversations with Plank. ...Plank is a piece of wood.

Jonny makes himself very "accessible" to the Ed's.

Found it interesting that Rolf's bio is less clearly phrased than the UK bio set it up to be-- there they made it sound more like he mixes up who the Eds/kids are, here it's unclear whether it means that or (more likely) just means the obvious statement that everyone finds him confusing. If it's that, what a lame hollow bio Rolf got. This kid's based on you Danny, show some of that personal side!

Always loved Jonny's description, his life sounds so cute. Playing outside literally all day. Interesting to have it confirmed that Jonny drew Plank's face, I preferred to think the Eds drew him and sold him to Jonny, but whatever.

"Accessible" has always been an important vague description of Jonny to me. It really only applies to how chummy they could be with him in season 1, but it still sorta applies to his personality throughout the series as well.

PAGE 17: (images of Nazz and Kevin next to their blurbs)

NAZZ

She's cool, calm and assertive.

She is the most matured of the kids, or so she thinks.

She's into make-up and fashion magazines and Boys.

Sarah thinks she's awesome, wants to be just like her when she grows up.

When she enters a scene, all activity stops... boys freeze, they sweat, their hearts beat faster and faster. They lose their ability to talk. When she leaves, they recover and conclude it was something They ate.

She thinks the Ed's are funny.

KEVIN

He is cynical and sarcastic.

He thinks he knows the "routine". That's because he watches "60 Minutes".

It got a big laugh out of me that Kevin's description is only 2 sentences long. Nazz even has a more detailed character description from inception than Kevin. Love this for them.

Who's the Eds' rival? Well, he's cynical, sarcastic and he watches 60 Minutes, doesn't that tell you enough!?

I love the "mature... or so she thinks" remark about Nazz, a grounded flaw for her to have, being a little overcommitted to being mature like Eddy. It also perhaps suggests naiveté that makes it a little more reasonable that they didn't notice they were dumbing her down at the end of the series, but I do think the movie version of her better reflects the Bible's concept.

PAGE 18:

The Other Neighborhood Kids

Lineup of May, Lee and Marie.

The Kanker Sisters

These gals are tough. They bother, bully, provoke and bewilder everyone.

They live in a motor home park on the other side of the Cul-de-sac. The other kids have never been there.

They are proud of their Tammy Faye Baker memorabilia.

Their project "Cooking with Ketchup" closed down their school for a whole week.

No one likes them, especially the Eds.

They are determined to marry the Eds. They want them to do their dishes.

Amused that the Kankers are essentially being labeled backgrounds characters here, the role they mostly fell into in season 5. "Other" neighborhood kids...

I love that the Kankers have a school blurb to match each of the Eds', and that theirs has similar destructive-intentions to Eddy's video premiere story.

I believe all of this was all known from the UK guide as well, but still, neat stuff!

PAGES 19 & 20 (zoomed in Kanker lineup and their height chart with the Eds)

PAGES 21 & 22 (early promo art that used to be on CN's old Eds webpage, the art of the Eds eating jawbreakers at the end of ep 1 with the overhead text "Ed, Edd n Eddy love JAWBREAKERS!!!", and the art of the Eds all running with overhead text "Ed, Edd n Eddy see something shiny...."Jiggers." That weird "jiggers" statement at the end was normally edited out and I don't know what it means. Looked it up and it seems to be Chinook jargon (like when Ed said he was "skookum at X's and O's") usually said in the same sense as "CHEESE IT!")

PAGES 23+:

The rest of the pages in that bible download are from a 2004 storyboard test. The storyboard sample "It's Raining Eds," which we've seen some submitted samples of before, interpretations with Ed attempting to fly or chew gum and Edd making radioactive gum, I was surprised to find out the outline is just the original outline for the opening sequence to season 3's 'For Your Eds Only', seemingly Jonny was not written into the original outline (or was excised for easier testing purposes) but Kevin's brief cameo was. Now I wonder if they knew this would be used for a test when they wrote it, and if they would've come up with a less random way to include him if weren't forced to be a concise bit for testing's sake. (Your limit is typically 40 storyboard pages in my experience.)

I also noticed that in the included background references, the anonymous adult neighbor house next door to Ed's is officially just referred to as a "generic house."

My analysis ends here, but be sure to download that sometime and enjoy all the raw storyboard sketches at the end of the document!

[shhhlikeme]

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #7.5

———————————

A/N: Part 7 was posted minutes before this one. Love this because of the narrative intricacies! Please note that this was supposed to be posted with outtake 7 but tumblr wouldn’t lowe it smh. Hence why it’s called 7.5!

The SOUND FOR THIS CHAPTER IS HERE. I STRONGLY RECOMMEND listening to it - it makes all the better as I listened to it as I wrote. And yes I teared up a bit cause I’m a sapppp

‼️THIS IS THE 12TH PART IN A SERIES READ THE OTHER PARTS BEFORE THIS ONE: ‼️

TABLE OF CONTENTS

———————————

6 Weeks Into The Talking Stage - The Official Confession

I, Aone Takanobu, am in love.

The 6’4” beauty finally admitted that to himself for the first time: right now at this very moment. He currently stared at himself in the dirty mirror in the bathroom of the bowling alley he’d taken you to on a second date.

You were waiting for him patiently in your lane, happy, and keeping busy. Even just thinking about how cute you looked trying to pick up the heavy balls meant for the professionals—his heart skipped a beat. (Also recalling how great your ass and legs looked in those tight jeans when you bent over to roll the bowling ball...... Aone had to start looking away whenever you rolled now as to not allow his hormones to get the better of him).

Must be. I’m in love. He told himself again, though I don’t think he had to convince himself.

Or anyone, tbh.

Sure, Kenji-san knew Aone was in love with Y/N about 7 months in to his crush when he made them go to a cheerleading competition of yours even though he was heartbroken that you were seeing someone else.

And sure, Kogenagawa knew Aone was in love with Y/N when he’d seen his mountainous senpai who never showed emotion practically beg him to sneak the cupcake he held on Y/N’s desk on her birthday last year.

And sure, Katana Oulle knew Aone was in love with Y/N when he had been so shockingly in-tune with her best friend that he ran over and caught her just in time before she hit the grass at a cheer practice you invited him to last week. He hadn’t been standing that far from the stunt, so that isn’t what made her realize. It was the look on his face when he caught her: like she was the most important thing in the world.

And sure.... Kusa knew Aone was in love with Y/N when........well......... maybe the 1st day she’s caught him staring at her in class a year and a half ago, she gathered that he was unable to look away whenever Y/N was laughing, but Kusa decided to stay out of it in hopes that Aone would crack out of his shell and you’d stop being so lost.

They all knew.

And maybe Aone always did too, from the first day that he laid eyes on you and automatically pointed......but he just refused to believe it.

Until now.

As he stared at himself in the mirror, Aone knew he was in love with you right now, at this moment because he was willing to let you go.

..............................

For the past six weeks Aone Takanobu has considered himself to be the luckiest man on the planet.

To get the opportunity to spend time with you, to hold your books, to make you smile, to make you laugh, he never knew it was possible to feel such strong levels of happiness.

His heart soared every time you approached him, every time you called his name, and he literally went to school early sometimes because he just couldn’t wait to see you.

To court you was even better.

He was finally able to tell you how pretty you looked each day and to see your face light up slightly when you saw him. He literally thought he’d either faint one day by how much your attention meant to him or that it’d get easier to see you, but it didn’t.

On your dates outside of school you seemed happy to Aone, and he tried to play it as cool as he could, but inside, he just wanted to skip this part already. If he thought it was bad to like you and you not notice him, THIS was worse:

Aone couldn’t stand being in the “in between” with you:

He could make you smile at him on a date but you two weren’t serious enough that he could give you a good night kiss like he so desired. You were serious enough that you grabbed his hand sometimes to lead him somewhere you wanted him to be, but not serious enough that you held his hand absentmindedly like he had to stop himself from reaching to do a dozen times. You were serious enough to tell eachother that you enjoyed each others company, but not serious enough that you wouldn’t stop yourself from asking him if that girl that just walked by was “so pretty! Right, Aone?”

Staring at himself in the mirror in the bowling alley, Aone couldn’t understand how you didn’t know that no one else was pretty to him. At least not in the way you were asking about.

Why?

Because, as all your friends could see, you were IT for him.

And he loved you.

But that was ONLY solidified when you two were just out there in the bowling lanes. It occurred after Aone came behind you after you asked so he could wrap his arms around you to aid you in scoring your first ever strike. 🎳 With his steering and added strength: you did!

Like the cheerleader you are, you screamed and started jumping up and down. Your eyes went as wide as saucers when all the pins dropped and without thinking you jumped into Aone’s arms excitedly, wrapping your legs around his waist and hugging his neck so tightly it almost hurt the muscular man.

“Great job, Y/N.” Aone chuckled, his entire body drowning in exuberance as he held you back tightly, never wanting to let you go. Your scent the only thing he could smell, your embrace the only thing he could feel: it was all he ever wanted.

All he ever needed.

A/N: 😩😩😩😩😩😩

An older couple next to you that Y/N had built a friendly relationship with tonight clapped for her first strike, telling her how she is lucky to have such a bowling pro for a boyfriend.

Aone’s face went bright red and Y/N stilled in his arms. Takanobu reluctantly set you down gently, feeling the mood change to awkward as hell.

“Haha, thank you.” You said to the elderly couple awkwardly. “Aone-san is my just my friend, though.” You added.

Cue the feels again:

Feeling his heart drop worse than it had when you had asked your teacher who on earth he was, Aone swallowed thickly.

Friend?

The older couples’ face dropped too, and they looked up at Aone sympathetically, as they were clearly able to tell throughout watching their date that there were strong feelings on his end, just by the way he looked at Y/N.

Playing it very cool even with a squeezed heart, Aone took his next turn then excused himself to the bathroom.

Now, After splashing water on his face, he was here. Looking at his hurt reflection in the mirror.

Admitting finally to himself that he was in love.

So in love, in fact, that he realized that what he initially thought about just being around you being enough was furthest from the truth. Takanobu couldn’t just be your friend. He wouldn’t be able to handle not showing you the full extent of his feelings, it was hard enough as is. It wasn’t like he was crushing from afar anymore, you were on a date with him right now.

Kenji: ’Aone, Stop torturing yourself,’

Aone could practically hear the sound of his best friend Futakuchi from when he was telling Aone not to stay in a stage he isn’t happy with back when you never noticed him.

Aone nodded at the memory.

Kenji was right then, and he was right now.

Poor lovesick mountain man always let you take the reigns in whichever direction you wanted to go because he didn’t want to ruin things.

Yeah well, nothing could ruin things more than the love of his life referring to him as a friend.

Friends don’t crush on eachother for years, Aone thought earnestly, thinking about the countless nights he wished you’d just return his feelings. ☹️

Enough was enough.

He had to tell you.

Splashing water on his face one last time, Aone wiped his face quickly then stormed out of the men’s bathroom. He look frightening to others, this determined giant strutting toward bowling lane 9 like he had the most important news in the world to share.

But Aone didn’t care.

You looked up from tightening your ugly bowling shoe laces as you were speaking happily to the elderly couple—to finally see your date returning from the bathroom. Feeling butterflies because he was coming, you waved at him.

Aone didn’t wave back. He approached the three of you, towering over y’all, he addressed the couple first.

“Terribly sorry to interrupt.” Takanobu apologized rapidly. Then, he turned all his attention to you. You felt your entire body heat up under his intense (and sexy) gaze.

“Aone? What’s wro-“

“I’m not your friend, Y/N.” Mountain man snapped, interrupting you.

😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

You pulled your eyebrows together, awestruck.

“W-what?”

“I said: I’m not your friend.”

Your mouth fell open, feeling very hurt. “Aone, S-sorry I thought you liked my p-personality a-and I just thought—“

“The reason I can’t be your friend is because I like you so much more than a friend Y/N. You have no idea how much more.”

Your jaw dropped wider than ever before, immediately relieved that he didn’t despise you.

The elderly couple hid their smiles behind their hands and slowly stepped back to give you two what little privacy two people could get in the centre of a bowling alley 🤷.

“Everything about you drives me absolutely insane, Y/N. In the best way.” Aone’s eyes softened as he thought about the things he loved about you. “Your spirit, your kindness, the way you support your friends...... the way you look when you don’t understand what the teacher is saying, the way you put your all into simple fundraisers because it would help your team, even the way you can’t notice when a classmate who has been crushing on you for over two years feels heartbroken when you refer to him as a friend.”

A/N: TELL HER BABY!!!!!

You were speechless as he continued.

“I’m not your friend. I don’t want to be. I want to be everything else for you. Everything more. Y/N, I have a confession to make.”

Mountain man chuckled stoically to himself because it was a little too late to announce a confession. Pushing on, Aone took a deep breath first. You looked so cute when you were speechless and it made his stomach flip.

“Y/N-chan, remember when you asked me after our first lunch together if the reason I spoke so much to you was because you might be special to me..? And I responded saying that if you let me take you on a few dates I’ll know for sure....?”

You nodded ever so slightly.

Aone stepped closer to you, wanting his confession to not be misinterpreted. He dipped his head down so that he could say this next part in your ear.

“Honestly, I cannot think of anyone more special to me than you, Y/N. I am absolutely crazy about you. I have been for years.”

The sound of his attractive voice in your ear so serious and unwavering, giving you such a groundbreaking and passionate confession, it made your knees wobble. You reached out to clutch his strong arms for support. Aone put his hands on your waist protectively, feeling you sway.

“Y/N. Are you alright?” There was concern all wrapped up in this beautiful man’s voice in your ear.

How much he cared for you was evident in his voice. Evident in his soft hold of your waist.......

After a few moments, you pulled back to look up at him.

How much he truly wanted to treasure you was especially evident in his eyes.

💡

Like the lightbulb switch of the century, it finally clicked to you that you’d heard that same level of care in his voice before. The back of your brain that throws out memories that are not connected to cheer, specific ones—were brought to the forefront of your brain, flashing in bright lights. You recognized Aone’s voice now, his hold, his look:

His face now showed up in your mind as you remembered glimpses of seeing Aone through the years,

When Aone told Tsume to leave you alone all those weeks ago, the same care for you was evident in his voice. When you raced out of library after slapping Futakuchi across the face, you’d almost bumped into someone and the hold on your waist to steady you with care back then was the same hold Aone held you in now. That was him. And those eyes— the desire in Aone’s eyes were the same eyes that watched you when you slammed a fundraiser flyer on his cafeteria table and smiled at the table dismissively. He was at that table. Desiring you.

All those memories happened; days, weeks, months, even years ago: which meant Aone cared about you even then. He was telling you the truth.

You couldn’t believe it.

You leaned into him for support, into the man that made your heart flutter—something you’ve never felt before—the man you had told your best friends Katana and Kusa that you could happily spend the rest of your life with just this morning. Resting your head on his chest, you nodded in response to his question about whether you were okay or not because your knees had gone weak.

Aone gently moved you so that he could caress your beautiful face as he looked down at you, studying your features.

“You are perfect.....” He said softly. This big, giant, scary mountain man was being so soft....for you. “I wish I could be whatever you wanted me to be and just be platonic. But I can’t shut off these feelings. They just get stronger and stronger. Therefore, I can’t just be your friend, Y/N. It is killing me. I apologize.”

You stared up into the dark but sincere eyes of the athlete, searching for any indication that he didn’t mean all that he just said to you since he’d returned.

Of course, you found none. There was none in your newly clear memories of him staring at you in class either and definitely none now. The boy was as serious as a heart attack.

“Aone,” you whispered, surprised that any sound even came out.

“Hm?” He grunted.

You curled your finger at him again, and Aone automatically bent down so you could whisper in his ear.

You got super close to his ear, feeling heady because this is obviously where he spritzed his heavenly cologne that turned you into putty so it was strongest here.

You took a deep breath of his delicious scent before asking what you had told your girlfriends you would ask him next weekend.

“Aone Takanobu, will you be my boyfriend?”

You ask.

Aone gasps. Freezing his entire body, he looked like:

A/N: ZCSVSPJLUJTAWZASFWJAQPLSY

He didn’t even answer. Just like he didn’t answer when you told him you’d see him later.

Mountain Man just stood there bent to your level, frozen like meat in the freezer—holding that cute just-got-electrocuted expression.

You don’t need me to tell you that this big baby was feeling as dubious as ever. He could not for the life of him speak because he was so in disbelief that this was real.

Feeling needed in this crucial moment, the elderly couple that you two have made friends with quickly shuffled behind you so that they could see Aone.

“Blink twice if the answer is yes!” Offered the elderly man with a smile as he held the waist of his wife of 30+ years.

Aone couldn’t speak but he thanked the older couple infinitely inside, before blinking twice.

🥺🥺🥺🥺😩😩😩

“He said yes, dear!” Called the woman to you as she clutched onto her husbands shirt in excitement.

You smiled into Aone’s shoulder as you hugged your new boyfriend, kissing his cheek over and over.

***

Aone needed a long time to sit down and recover, seeing as this shock was more severe than the first time you kissed his cheek in the hallway. You thought it was so adorable how much you affected him and so you just ended up bowling with the elderly couple until your boyfriend was back to using words instead of blinks to communicate.

Half an hour later when the initial shock had sunk in, Aone called you over.

You happily obeyed, making yourself comfortable in his lap.

“Y/N. Am I dreaming?” He asked seriously. “Or did you really agree to be my girlfriend?”

You laughed loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leaned in to kiss his cheek and a blush from his pale cheeks immediately greeted your lips.

“Actually,” you kissed the same spot again. “You agreed to be my boyfriend. But, yes!”

Aone nodded curtly, looking straight at the bowling pins as his cheek tingled due to your kisses.

“I see.”

He turned his head to lean down and return a kiss to your cheek for the first time ever. Along with him, your entire body felt like it turned to goo when he kissed you, you liked him so much.

“Well, Y/N, I still don’t feel like this is real yet, and for that I apologize, but please don’t get me wrong: I need you to know that this is the happiest day of my life.....” His words melted into your heart. He’s so romantic.

You beamed.

“Mine too, Aone baby... Mine too.”

———————————

Taglist: @crushzone @galagcica @nairobiisqueen @chaichai-the-weeb

Outtake #8: CLICK HERE

[telli1206]

For the ship ask: Jaylos!

This is for @hersilentlanguage too!

Who would be the big spoon/little spoon? 

Carlos is usually little spoon. Jay loves to curl around him and soflty play with his curls until they both fall asleep. Once in a while though, Carlos likes to cradle himself behind Jay’s head and wrap around him like a Koala, stroking his fingers through long, dark hair as he burrows his body into the pillows.

Who would wake up first? 

Carlos does during the week, reluctantly. He doesn’t want them to be late for class, so he sets their alarm and drags Jay out of bed. On the weekends though, Carlos loves to hibernate for half the day, and stays in bed even when Jay wakes up to take his morning run. After he gets back and showers though, he’s almost always jumping back into bed. Cuddling with Carlos is his favorite way to spend his Saturdays.

Do they have nicknames for each other? 

Carlos has a few that are reserved only for when they’re alone in their dorm, like Thief of my Heart and Prince of Thieves. Jay mostly sticks with Pup, but after he remembered that pup in Arabic starts with J (jru), he also started slipping in Little J.

How do they apologize after an argument? 

Jay is pretty easy to appease with kisses (he can never say no to a hot makeout when Carlos crawls into his lap), and Jay will take advantage of Carlos’ weakness for chocolate to get him to open up and hear Jay’s apology. Right now Jay tends to use Hershey’s kisses. He hasn’t done anything bad enough to warrant peanut butter cups, so he’ll keep that ace in his back pocket...for now 😉

What would they be like as parents? 

Jay will be a total softy when it comes to kids. He already is. Carlos gets all heart-eyed when he sees Jay doting on Dizzy, giving her compliments on her hairstyles and making her feel special. And he loves that Jay is such a responsible second dad to Dude. He can always count on Jay to let him out in the morning, and he never forgets to feed Dude dinner every night. It’s a total turn-on for Carlos to know what a great father Jay will be to their kids.

And there’s no doubt Carlos will be a loving, responsible father. Jay can count on him now to help him with his school work, always checking in to see if he needs help, or asking if he can explain anything. Jay knows that Carlos will give the same studious help to their own kids, and will never let them fall behind in school.

Who is more romantic? 

Jay. After a life of being abused and/or ignored, Jay always wants to go out of his way to make sure that Carlos will never feel anything but special and loved ever again. While he loves to surprise Carlos with the occassional chocolates after dinner or a single red rose in his locker in between classes, every once in a while he goes all out for a special date. Not for any occasion specifically, because he loves to see the look of shock on Carlos’ face when he borrows a horsedrawn carriage from Ben to take Carlos to Rapunzel’s tower, where they eat chocolates while they’re perched in the window to look at the stars.

What sort of gifts do they get for each other? 

Carlos knows that Jay wants to take a long trip to Agrabah once they’re done with school, so Carlos likes to give him trinkets from Agrabah whenever he can. Whether it’s jewelry, stories in Arabic, or lush fabrics that he has Evie sew into vests for him.

Jay wouldn’t care for anything techy if it weren’t for Carlos, but for his freckled boy he’ll go out of his way to learn about the latest technology from Doug so he can save up and gift Carlos with all the tech his little heart dreams of.

Who gets jealous easiest? 

Jay, because sweet little Carlos is oblivious to other boy’s flirting with him. Jay’s always been a master flirt, so he can sense other boy’s intentions before they even start talking, and he’s ready to sling a possessive arm over Carlos, pulling him close and kissing him a little too passionately for public eyes, making Carlos stutter and flush scarlet every time.

Who gets more excited for events e.g.. Birthdays, Christmas? 

Carlos! He gets adorably geeked to decorate and celebrate for every occassion. And he spends weeks picking out the perfect gifts for his friends, creating excel files to document their likes/dislikes/wants before he can even begin to make a decision on what to buy.

Who is the most adventurous? 

Jay, but he doesn’t always think through his adventures, which makes Carlos worry. He’ll never forget the time Jay tried to tie his own zipline from their dorm window into the woods next to the Tourney field. He’s lucky he only broke his arm. So, Carlos is always on alert, keeping an eye out for Jay’s next stunt.

Who is the most protective? 

Jay, for Mal, Evie and Carlos, but especially Carlos. He did his best to protect him from his mother on the Isle, but now that Carlos is safe and away from her, Jay wants to make sure he never feels that kind of pain again.

What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts? 

Sweet and giggly, finding their happiness with each other despite the roughness and disparity of the isle. Carlos and Jay would be stealing kisses everywhere they could, in alleys, school bathrooms, and out back behind the Junk Shop. Jay would continue to steal for his father, but save his best trinkets to present to Carlos at the tree house, where they would hole up and cuddle while he marvelled at Jay’s finds.

Who uses all the hot water? 

Carlos. He never got over how amazing it felt to take hot showers and baths, so he’s steaming up the bathroom every chance he gets. He’ll even study in the bathtub, sometimes inviting Jay to join him so he won’t whine about how long Carlos is taking.

Who would accidentally set the kitchen on fire whilst cooking? 

Carlos. His love of science has made him a decent baker, but he can’t cook a meal to save his life. He tries, but Jay always ends up jumping in to save whatever concoction Carlos tried to make on his own.

Who initiates sexy times the most? 

Jay. The boy’s a lovable hornball, and Carlos can almost never say no. Jay really knows how to get Carlos going, too. He always starts with gentle brushes of skin on skin while they’re in the halls. Then he’ll whisper what he wants to do to Carlos while they’re sitting at the lunch table, followed by the occasional graphic note in class, that always makes Carlos have to fight down the blush. By the end of the school day, Carlos is putty in Jay’s hands.

Who is more dominant? 

Jay, because Carlos was basically raised to be submissive. Jay doesn’t try to assert his dominance with Carlos though, because he doesn’t like that Carlos can’t control his need to submit, since it was ingrained so deeply in him at such a young age. Jay is constantly assuring Carlos that he always has a choice with Jay, and he never has to follow Jay’s lead if he doesn’t want to. 

What would they do if the other one was hurt? 

Freak out? They’ve seen each other hurt plenty on the Isle, and they never got used to it, they just went on instinct to clean and dress the wounds as quickly as possible to help with the healing. Now that they have help in that area, it just leaves them more time to sit and worry about each other as they heal.

Who gives nose/forehead kisses? 

Carlos. He loves how Jay just sits still and smiles when he does it. It’s a very intimate action for them both that shows their love and adoration for each other. Carlos does it mostly when they’re alone in their room together, and the kiss is usually followed by them resting their foreheads together, just enjoying the closeness and comfort of each other.

What their biggest fight was/will be about:

I can’t imagine them having a really big fight, but Jay’s constantly worried that he’ll upset Carlos with his flirty nature, even though Carlos does nothing but reassure Jay that he trusts him. Still, Jay can’t help but worry about it.

BONUS #1: Song to sum them up? 

I think “I Will Be” by Avril Lavigne sums them up nicely.

BONUS #2: A head canon?

I’ve said this one a few times (and it’s referenced in Wag My Tail):

Evie makes all of their clothes, and while insecure Carlos loves to stay covered up in baggy shorts and long sleeved shirts, Jay agrees to spend time modelling for Evie in exchange for her making Carlos’ clothes a little tighter. Carlos might not want to show off his assets, but Jay loves it 💖

BOTTOM LINE: Do I ship it?

I feel like if you read any of my Tumblr posts I don’t have to answer that 🤣

[lichlover]

Okay so this a balance headcanon, and it is technically one I saw in a text post somewhere on tumblr that has been lost to the scroll of my dashboard months and months ago, but. The concept that the reason Barry was on the starblaster in the first place... was because he was some kinda undercover death cultist trying to kickstart the apocalypse... but then it happened and he was like "wait shit this actually sucks" and then has to figure out what to do

please consider donating to my ko-fi!

This was how it was written: Sildar Hallwinter would end the world.

Before his departure, they’d etched his name into the first of the sacred texts; his true name, five syllables destined to strike terror into the hearts of all living beings and their menial existences. It would all perish in the Apocalypse, of course. Everything would. But he and his fellows would ascend in death, as would every record that burned in the Great Blaze of the end times, and the universe would know their history. The true history. The history he would go down in as the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind.

The gnome in front of him peered over the angular frames of his spectacles and said, “Barry Bluejeans?”

Sildar Hallwinter had also lost a bet.

But it was no matter, for there was no meager chronicle that would remember him as Barold J. Bluejeans, chief science officer of the IPRE Starblaster. He would be survived only by the destruction set to ravage their world in a matter of months, a Dawning so terrible that it would leave nothing of civilization in its wake. No one would know the name Barry Bluejeans. Everyone would know the name Sildar Hallwinter, and the thought made his stomach knot with such anticipation that he had to collect himself before he could respond.

“That’s me,” he said, and grinned a different man’s grin at the gnome—Captain Davenport of the IPRE, unknowing Chariot to the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind. “Reporting for duty.”

Sildar was well accustomed to the dank, ash-streaked tunnels of the Fellowship’s headquarters beneath Ascendant’s Peak, but the IPRE headquarters were sleek and warm, drawing him in with rounded walls and high, arching ceilings. Everywhere he looked, another enormous set of windows opened to the landscape below, as of yet untouched by the Cataclysm Foretold. He wasn’t used to this much natural light, and he certainly wasn’t used to people smiling and waving as they passed. “Another poor soul for the Big One, Dav?” someone called, and the captain waved them off affably.

For an organization completely aware of the end times, and completely unaware of the fact that he, Sildar, would be responsible for their failure, they were all terribly… cheery.

“We’ve already gathered the other crew members,” said the captain, when they came to a halt in front of a nondescript door. “They’re just, uh, through here. We’ll start our first briefing in the next—next half hour, but for now, feel free to socialize. G-Get to know them. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

“Thanks,” said Sildar, and the captain mumbled something under his breath. “Uh, what was that?”

“Oh,” said the captain. “Nothing.” He turned, and it was only then that Sildar’s brain registered the words; it had sounded almost like good luck.

No matter. Sildar opened the door.

“Incoming!”

Sildar yelped—actually yelped—and ducked aside just as a chair flew over his head and exploded against the wall. A shower of wooden fragments and very magical sparks hit the ground in front of him, and he sputtered, wordless, on the precipice of reaching for his own wand—was this an ambush? Had they discovered the truth of his presence already?

“Oh, shit,” somebody said, and a silhouette appeared through the smoke and magical residue. Sildar caught his breath. Perhaps he was dead, then; perhaps one of the wooden shards had caught him through the heart, and the Avatar of Renewal through Annihilation had come to meet him on the threshold of the afterlife. She looked like divinity, at any rate: tall and elegant, with waves of hair that glittered like finely spun gold and eyes that blazed with the last vestiges of power. Eyes that settled on him, and softened instantly. No, Sildar thought. She couldn’t possibly be the Avatar of Renewal, because she looked kind.

“Shit,” said the divine being again. Her ears twitched downward with concern—an elf, then. “Lucky break, babe. You okay?”

Sildar blinked, and found himself at a loss for words.

“Leave it to you to fuckin’ scare the shit outta the newcomer!” A voice like hers rose through the smoke, and as it cleared, Sildar made out four other bodies, all draped in the ostentatious red of the IPRE and squinting into the gloom. The one who had spoken, another willowy elf with even longer golden locks, lifted a hand in the air and snapped his fingers, and all the smoke dissipated at once. “You had to launch it at the fuckin’ wall, Mags!”

His companion, a human who stood taller than everyone else in the room and looked battle-scarred to the bone despite his youth, gestured indignantly at the aftermath. “But did you see how fucking awesome that was? And that was a whole science experiment! Setup—uh, hypothesis, trials, conclusion?”

“Which is?” The elf unspooled two letters into a long, drawn-out drawl.

“That this room was totally used for magic shit! And now we can do whatever we want in here!”

“Um,” came another voice from the window, and Sildar looked over to see a dark young woman with a head of platinum-bright hair, gazing nervously at the set of admittedly impressive scorch marks over his head. “I think if anything, that proves we shouldn’t do what we want in here.”

“Agree to disagree,” said “Mags,” with undue confidence.

“That’s—but that’s not what science is—”

The final figure in the room, a portly dwarf with flowers woven into his beard, shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Look at the impression you just made,” he said. “Going around, trying to kill people you just met—what kind of monsters do something like that?”

The divine being made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh and pushed a few loose strands of hair off her face. “You must be the chief science officer,” she said, and stuck out a hand. “Sorry for the accidental attempted murder. I’m Lup.”

Lup.

“I’m,” said Sildar. “Uh.”

This time she really did laugh—a lyrical, full-bodied sound that he felt deep in his chest. “Tell me we didn’t just knock your name outta your head.”

“Oh, no, it’s, uh—” Lup. She looked at him with a smile so resplendent he had to catch his breath all over again. What did she know of Sildar Hallwinter, the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind? What did she know of anything beyond all the light she cast in every direction?

“I’m, uh, Barry,” he said. “Barry J. Bluejeans.”

.

Here are some things Sildar Hallwinter learns about Barry J. Bluejeans:

He has a penchant for getting into character. Maybe that’s more Sildar than Barry, but there’s something so intoxicating about the drama of it all, especially when no one else knows he’s playing a role. Barry is a bit of a thespian, if he does say so himself.

That said, he’s sort of awkward. More of Sildar’s influence. When you’ve spent your whole life preparing to fulfill your divine purpose in the End of All Things, it’s a little hard to adjust to things like game night and brunch.

He’s smart. Really smart. The Fellowship hadn’t really encouraged science—everything else came second to the teachings of the Apocalypse—but not only is Barry-slash-Sildar naturally inclined for it, he actually enjoys it.

He can’t swim. Sildar can, and rather enjoys it, but it’s a little bit of flavor text he can’t resist.

He’s not half bad at making friends.

The crew of the Starblaster were, of course, a means to an end, and he would develop no meaningful relationship with any of them beyond what was necessary to keep up appearances. That was his mandate, at least. But it was hard. Much harder than he’d expected, really. And despite himself, he—Barry—found it all to easy to laugh at the dwarf Merle’s gods-awful jokes and stay up late to hear Captain Davenport recount tales of grandeur. He let himself be roped into more magic-powered “experiments” (in the loosest sense of the word) with the human fighter, Magnus, who actually seemed to enjoy death-defying stunts with the zeal of someone from the Fellowship. He got to know the soft-spoken but brilliant archivist, Lucretia, and her remarkably meticulous transcriptions. On one particularly reckless night, he joined the long-haired elf Taako on a quest to fill a particularly uppity supervisor’s pockets full of pudding.

And as the Appointed Hour approached, Barry found himself spending late nights in the IPRE labs with Lup, testing and recording speculations on arcane theory and downing enough coffee to drive them to hysterics by dawn. They were all a little nervous, a little sad, a little desperate to sort their affairs before takeoff, but Lup tackled new problems with the kind of determination that demanded solutions. She was the most ingenious person Barry had ever met. And when she sat back from an arcane reaction gone wrong, her hairline blackened with soot and grinning like a caffeine-tripped maniac, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

This was how it was until the Apocalypse arrived.

Barry woke the morning of with a planet-shattering hangover.

He crawled to the mirror and squinted blearily into the glass; thanks to the IPRE’s constant offerings of complimentary coffee and cake and Taako’s singlehanded banquets, he’d put on weight over the last several months, and he’d started to love the gentle resilience his body had gained. Sildar was clean-shaven and angular, but Barry was soft and stubbly. A few nights before, Lup’s gaze had caught on his chin, and she’d told him how nice he looked with a five o’clock shadow.

He’d thought she was joking, but that was just how she was—kind.

He went to his closet and started to mull over which shirt to wear.

The day was dark and still, the sky an unbroken slate grey, and it was just what the sacred texts had imagined: not a living thing stirred for miles beyond the horizon. Even the grass beneath Barry’s feet, as he followed Davenport to the Starblaster’s gangway, had turned an off-color, metallic shade. They said their goodbyes to the Institute, and to the enormous crowd at starboard, and in the eerie light they all looked like corpses risen from the grave. There was something hanging over their heads that felt nothing like the terrible glory the Fellowship had promised; instead it was unsettled, and sickly, and wrong.

Barry swallowed the knot gathering rapidly in his throat and followed his crew up the gangway. There was but one thing left for him to do now—him, Sildar Hallwinter, the Catalyst for the End of All Things, the Second Revelation, the Midnight Prophet for the Last Downfall of Mankind. And then the Hour would be upon them at last.

He left the others on the bridge and walked to the Bond Engine.

The explosives tucked inside his robe were light, and branded with the sigil of the Fellowship, although no one would be able to tell in the ensuing destruction. It was certain to be localized, of course; they were meant to damage the engine and nothing more. He could never deprive himself—or anyone else, for that matter—the opportunity to witness the Terror as it began its First Assault on the world of the living. No one knew quite what it would look like, or how it would feel, but the Fellowship had promised a beautiful ascendancy for all its members. And now Sildar would seal his fate. He would seal everyone’s fate.

“Barold!”

Sildar fumbled an explosive, and it was almost the last thing he ever did. He whirled around, and there was Taako, waving him over from the bottom of the staircase. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” said Barry, faintly. “Why?”

“Cap’n’port wants everybody on the bridge for the launch.” He flapped his arm at the bridge, looming above them against a wall of indiscernible storm clouds. “C’mon!”

“Uh,” Barry said. Suddenly the explosives weighed too heavily in his robe. “In a sec!”

“He means now, Barry! This storm ain’t lookin’ too good!”

No, no, no. Not yet.

But I don’t want—

What does it matter what you want?

Sildar Hallwinter gripped the hem of his pocket.

And Barry Bluejeans whispered a disarming spell, followed by a shrinking charm. Three marbles branded with the sigil of the High Fellowship of the Great Prophecy for the First Revelation rattled in his pocket as he jogged toward Taako and the bridge.

They escaped by the skin of their teeth. Sildar Hallwinter watched his world consumed by a force so uncaring, so unfeeling, that it couldn’t possibly be the Herald of Rebirth for All Things. He watched it rip everything apart—the IPRE headquarters where he’d met his crew, the ice cream parlor he’d braved with Magnus and Lucretia, the farmer’s market where Taako had taught him the difference between parsley and basil, the enormous lake Davenport had taken them sailing on for a weekend, the small garden Merle had kept just outside their dorms. 

The horizon, where he’d watched the sun set with Lup.

In the space between planes, Sildar Hallwinter was unmade. And when the threads of his body settled back into place, he caught his breath and thought, Never again.

This was how it was written: Barry J. Bluejeans would save the world.

[grokebaby]

14 and 31!

14. OC with Tragic backstory™

Oh I was almost gonna go for some Clarome characters for that sweet puberty-time angst but I realized I have other good fits too

So for example any underverse characters (aka my shadows and tormenters, context in this post)

I'll pull up a certain shadow fella named Arbeticus. He's a shadow haunter, uses he/him pronouns just because they sound cool to him. As most shadows he has absolutely no concept of gender. His public name is 100 because he's a Chad. (Most inhabitants of the underverses use pseudonyms like this, they really like privacy) Pictured below with his partner (Ninji, 9) and child (AR, 1)

He was born to what's known as a carrier/womb. Basically a shadow who's life purpose is to bear children and nurse them. His father was notoriously untrusting and paranoid, and also the master of many, many wombs. Soon after his mother gave birth to him and his sibling, the father ditched them. 100 started to harbor resentment for his flakey father and swore to become superior to him. He grew increasingly aggressive and strong, which culminated in him eating his sibling (sounds gruesome I know, but it's a thing in the shadow world to just absorb another shadow to become stronger). After this he left the nest, to the relief of his mother.

His whole life is basically trying to become more and more powerful and skilled at everything. He's highly egotistical and almost megalomaniacal. Initially he courted 9 for the sole reason that nobody ever dared before, and she was a high status tormentor. Over time he fell madly for her though. They had one child who he was dissapointed in, and thusly whipped through his whole childhood to become better. Tragically on a haunting trip, 9 was destroyed by an intense UV light cannon, leaving 100 to shreds emotionally. In his mourning rage he got into a fight with his son, and met his demise. The first one, that is. Tormentors can come back if they're memorable enough. And he did! And so did his partner! They're now expecting they're second litter and spending their olden days together in a cabin far away. He wasn't the same after coming back, and has gone extremely soft and possibly senile.

31. If any of your ocs had a tumblr blog, what'd it be like?

Oh boy I never think of irl or technology related things like this. Hmm

Let's go with Luke! I feel like he uses social media frequently. His blog color scheme would be green, and icon probably one of his worst selfies. Like imagine a low angle, early morning pic with a bagel in the mouth. Something like that. Because it's funny. His posts would be sarcastic social commentary and sharing interesting life experiences, among with lots of his own photos. He'd probably complain about customers at the supermarket and vague about his job at the secret service, making ironic posts like "Time to be a secret agent again and expose the capitalists! :D". Reblogs consist of memes and aesthetic nature photography, + aMaZiNg stuNT comPiLaTiOns. He's a huge sucker for vines and quotes them at every turn. He regularly shares his internet findings with his friends. Macy responds with brief jokes playing off of the posts, Jeremy sends like one "😂" or at most says "Cool :)", and Trevor leaves him on read, despite sometimes looking at the things he shares.

Thank you lots!! I'm sorry all of these are so long ;w;

[takingcourage]

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Epilogue 

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC (Kellen)

Note: My dear readers, thank you so much for your support of this series. This whole process has been an absolute joy, and much of that is because of you. I’m grateful for every reblog, comment, and like you’ve left these last few weeks. Each one has made my days brighter. : ) 

Although my work schedule means I’ll probably be pretty scarce on Tumblr for the rest of June, I would love to return to this AU later in the summer. If there are other stories you’d like to see within this universe, please let me know! 

Kellen stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, pouring herself a second cup of coffee with the other. From the window above the sink, she could see her son still running circles along the shoreline. As the object of his chase, Cassian ran ahead in stunted steps -- close enough to be caught, but not close enough to remove the challenge entirely. 

She joined them outside, giggling to herself as their laughter carried over on the salty breeze. Once she’d laid her towel across the sand, she sat for a moment, watching. Morning coffee may no longer be a private affair, but the change suited her well. Taking a sip from the too-full mug, she couldn’t help smiling as Owen caught and clung onto one of his father’s legs. Those two were thick as thieves. 

Cassian had volunteered to keep him occupied during the morning so that she could spend the time adding to the tan she’d started the day before. It was a generous offer, though she knew it had been prompted by at least one ulterior motive: the more worn out Owen was, the longer he’d nap. A longer nap meant more time for the two of them to pursue more...intimate activities. 

They’d been on Nantucket for less than twenty-four hours, but already she felt more relaxed than she had in years. Between the sun and the sound of the surf, the time away from work and city life, and the companionship of her little family, she truly lacked for nothing. 

Nothing, it seemed, but seashells. 

Hurried footsteps startled her out of her sunbathing daze some hour later. She jolted back to reality to find her son before her, holding out a handful of sandy shells. She received them graciously, making room for him to sit next to her on the towel while he babbled on about the things he’d seen and done along the shore. 

Cassian caught up to them, an apology in his eyes for the interruption. She smiled in reassurance and dusted off another corner of the towel so that he could join. 

“It’s a great day for swimming,” he remarked with his gaze on the horizon.

“It would be even better for sailing,” she challenged, brushing a film of dried sand from Owen’s cheek. “We’ll have to look into boat rentals once he’s a little older. Maybe in a couple of summers?” 

Cassian chuckled beside her. “Already planning our next trip?”

“I thought we could make it a tradition. Maybe even buy a house of our own out here someday.” 

He fell quiet, though his fingers strayed over to interlace her own. The moment was cut short by Owen’s decision that it was time for a swim, but it was enough for Kellen to take his meaning. 

It still felt a bit foreign to talk so freely about the future, even moreso to talk in terms of our and we. Over the past weeks and months, much of the ambiguity about their future had been stripped away. She’d been tiptoeing around the most pressing issue for a while, but she hadn’t taken the plunge quite yet. Soon, she promised herself, cheeks burning as Cassian turned toward her and flashed a winning smile. 

She was sure that the smile had been prompted by something their son had done, but she only had eyes for him. Up to his knees in seawater, carrying Owen in his arms, she couldn’t imagine any other path for her future. Maybe soon was even closer than she’d realized. 

Kellen fell back to the towel, shielding her eyes from the sun as she considered her options. What was the purpose of prolonging the inevitable? She knew they were going to be together, and marriage was something Cassian clearly wanted. With a dull thrum of regret, she thought of the time their family had already spent fractured apart. She never wanted that kind of separation again. If a wedding meant there would be even more binding them together, how could she say no?

In the distance, she heard the crashing waves and the excited chatter of the two people who meant the most in her life. As she drifted into a light doze, the answer to her question became abundantly clear. 

_____

The sand was still warm when she and Cassian ventured back out several hours later. Spreading their blanket wide on the empty beach, she kicked off her shoes and sank onto the pliable ground. 

“Just look at that water,” he admired, passing her one of the wine glasses he carried so that he could find a seat next to her. “I know we’ve been out here all day, but the view never gets old.” 

Nantucket sunsets were a sight to be remembered, and tonight was no exception. After a full afternoon of swimming and shopping in the local markets, there was nothing she wanted more than the chance to relax with with him. 

“It’s good to be back.” Kellen sipped her wine, enjoying the way the light caught the tips of the waves as they rolled in. She could just make out Owen’s static breathing coming through the speaker of the baby monitor as it blended with the ambient noises of the sea. 

Resting her cheek on Cassian’s shoulder, she allowed her eyes to close in utter contentment. “This trip is a vast improvement on the last time,” she murmured dreamily. 

He shifted slightly beneath her to find her hand. “That’s an understatement.” 

Eyes springing open, she set the glass aside and raised her head to glimpse his face. “You mean this is better than the summer we spent being young and stupid and pretending we weren’t head over heels for each other?”

His brow lifted with amusement. “I never want to go back to that stage. I like where we are far too much.” 

And what about where we’re going? She asked the question of herself, wondering if now was the time to bring up the subject she’d been considering earlier in the day. 

“Where we are is perfect,” he claimed, giving her fingers a meaningful squeeze. Kellen knew his desires enough to understand that there was some amount of compromise in the statement -- no doubt made for her benefit. But she didn’t want that kind of compromise any longer. 

“It’s almost perfect,” she corrected, outlining his lower lip with a single finger. “You know what would make it absolutely perfect?”

His initial concern turned to thinly-veiled curiosity. “What’s that?”

“If you went and got that ring that you’ve been carrying around for forever. I know it’s in your suitcase.”

Bewildered, he stretched out a hand to mirror her touch. She held his eyes as he traced from her cheek to her jaw, down to the fine point of her chin. “Really?” the word was rough, as though it had caught in his throat. 

Grateful as she was for his determination not to push her, now that her mind was settled, she wanted action. “Yes, really.” 

His entire face erupted into a smile, and he pulled her lips to his for a hasty kiss. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Don’t wake Owen!” she reminded with a laugh. 

“I won’t,” he promised before disappearing around the side of the cottage. He returned scarcely a minute later, sprinting once he made it to the sand. As he dropped to the blanket before her, the fading light from behind bathed him in a circle of red and gold. 

Her breath caught, and she could feel the surging pulse at her throat. 

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He checked, noticing her demeanor. At her nod, he rose to one knee and stretched out both hands in invitation.  

Kellen took them gladly, stroking his fingers in reassurance. “You’ve practically proposed already, Cassian. I’ve just taken my time saying yes.” 

“But we should go out for a fancy dinner, have a moonlit stroll or something… I want it to be the most romantic night you’ve ever had.” 

“Hmm. I’m no expert, but something tells me tonight is going to be pretty hard to beat,” she challenged, sitting up on her knees until her eyes were level with his. 

“Cassian, I went a summer hiding my true feelings and pushing you away because I thought it would protect me. I spent the next three years wanting to forget you, and I failed miserably. These last nine months, I’ve let you in, and they’ve been the best months of my life. I want a future of holding you close and loving you with everything that I have. Wearing this,” she continued, letting go of his hands to find the small box beside him on the blanket, “is part of how I want to show you that love.” 

“And you say you’re not good with words,” he chuckled, almost breathless under the significance of her statement. Cradling her face with both hands, he bent forward and grazed her forehead with his own. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” she echoed as he pulled away. “But you have no idea how long it took me to think all of that through. Give me numbers and logic any day… as long as I’ve got you there too.” 

“I will be. But can we make this official, first?” He reached for the box, and she surrendered it willingly, every bit as eager as he was to view its contents. 

“Kellen, you’re the love of my life. You’re strong and hard working, you’re stunning, you’re funny and fiery and smart -- and I can’t imagine a better mother for our son. Beyond all of those things, you’re the perfect partner for me. Like you said, the last several months have been...incredible,” shaking his head for emphasis, he took a moment before moving on. “I want what we have now to last for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

“Weren’t you listening before?” she questioned, cheeks aching from the width of her smile. “You know I will.” 

“I know,” he assured with a laugh. “But I’ll take any chance I get to remind you how lucky I am that you’re mine. Besides, I’ve gotta let that romantic side out somehow.” Flipping back the lid, he carefully lifted the ring and slipped it onto the appropriate finger. 

Kellen nudged the slim stripe of gold with her thumb, doing nothing to disguise her enthusiasm as she inspected the gem. Under the watercolor sky, flecks of every color bounced off each facet of the diamond’s surface. “You did such a good job, Cassian. This is perfect.” 

“Just wait ‘til you see it together with the wedding band,” the words were almost shy, as if he couldn’t believe that the conversation was taking place. “And I don’t deserve all of the credit. I took Grainne into confidence: she’s always had an eye for fashion.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” she critiqued, remembering all of the times he’d chosen things for her in the past. “But remind me to thank your sister anyway the next time we see her. Grainne’s the only one who knows?”

“She is. I know it hasn’t been a secret for you, but I didn’t want anyone else to find out I’d bought it. You didn’t need that kind of pressure.” Rolling onto his side, he eased himself into the seat next to her. 

Taking advantage of his new position, Kellen propped herself up to climb on his lap. The sand shifted beneath her weight, but he extended an arm to hold her steady. Even after she’d made herself comfortable, his hand still rested on her hip. “This is nice,” she remarked, running a finger across the flat of his thumbnail. 

“Here.” He stretched away from her, removing the hand for just a moment before it returned, clutching stem of her glass.

Kellen accepted the drink and relaxed against his chest. “Thanks for being so patient with me. It’s just... marriage is a big step. I needed to be sure.” 

“I needed you to be sure,” he agreed, absently fiddling with the new addition to her finger. “And this would still be in its box if I thought there was any chance you weren’t.”

“I’m absolutely certain.” She tilted her head back, straining for a view of his face. “You sure you’re ready to be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”

His features lit with a boyish grin. “It’s all I’ve wanted for ages. Though I do have one complaint about the timing: I don’t think I’m going to be able to fall asleep tonight.”

Chuckling under her breath, Kellen tilted her hips into the heat between his thighs. “Do you really think I’d let that happen? I have plans to make sure you’re fully worn out first,” she promised suggestively, smirking as she heard the hitch in his breathing. “But for now, I want to sit with you for awhile and watch the stars come out.” 

“That’s perfect.” Spoken at her ear, it came as little surprise when the words ended with a kiss to the sensitive skin behind it. 

Shivering into the sensation, her next words were unusually quiet. “And since you’ve been thinking about it for longer than I have, maybe you can start telling me about your perfect wedding.” 

He paused for a drink of wine, but held her a little tighter when he resumed. “Well, you’re there with a massive smile on your face--”

“Of course!” she broke in, too excited to regret the interruption. 

“The biggest smile you’ve ever had,” he appended. “And Owen should be...”

Though some part of her followed the words, a sudden outpouring of delight made it difficult for her to focus on anything but the unbridled happiness that carried through her veins. 

What she’d told him before had been true. She was absolutely certain about spending the rest of their lives together. 

For so long, she’d been determined to control it all -- to calculate every aspect of her life and plan it to perfection. Yet now she knew, without a shadow of doubt, that nothing -- no scheme, no equation, no amount of thinking in advance -- could ever have led to something as perfect as the future that now lay before her. 

[asgardianthot]

Flesh And Bones - part 1

Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

Soulmate AU

In a world where people bond with their soulmates through physical pain, living in the same compound makes the search much easier (or it should, if they weren’t so damn stubborn)

TW: self-inflicted injuries

words: 1742

A/N: this is my first time posting a series on the tumblrs but I’ve had the idea for months so here goes nothing

Series Masterlist

Pain is such human extravaganza.

For your body to react to certain dangers or stimulations that trigger specific nervous patterns, that’s something most living creatures are built with. We are but machines; when you lay your hand over fire and it hurts, your nervous system is alerting the rest of your body of harm and yelling at it to get away from said harm, similar to how old hair dryers would stop functioning when they overheated to prevent explosions.

That, we have a general idea of. Pain is natural and not a construct.

But suffering. Aching from love, or the lack of it… nobody does it better than humans. Super-humans included. Enhanced, hyper-trained, whatever. The pain parade of romance is something so deeply rooted into the dumbest parts of our brains, that that must be the reason behind soulmates.

The point is, it is only logical for such a cruel universe to bond love and pain so tightly.

It’s simple, really. Sometime in the speck of dust of time in which we live, a person will get injured. They’ll bump their toe on a kitchen counter, fall on their butts, cut their finger while chopping vegetables, or maybe get into a chaotic car accident. No matter the damage, when the universe decides that hurt idiot is your hurt idiot, you’ll feel their pain on your own skin. It also didn’t matter if you knew the person or not, only chances were your soulmate was a complete stranger.

At first it comes like a tingle, a small pinch or even the ghost sensation of a scratch. But if your soulmate is nearer than they should without you realizing who they are, the sensation becomes full and the closer they are the more vivid their pain feels on your own skin. It is extremely uncertain, however, if it has to do with spatial proximity, or emotional.

Sam Wilson would eventually sit on the park, after his morning jog, or afternoon jog, and contemplate people. He enjoyed the easiness, the memory of a time before the army, when his life was simple. No PTSD, no Avenging. To be fair, the Avenger life was the cure to the PTSD somehow, for Sam Wilson was a man of action and the more quiet his life was, the more his mind wandered. He loved the agitation, the missions, the feeling of helping people, yet every once in a while, or once a day even, he would simply sit and watch the futility of civilian’s walks around the park.

A woman sat next to him and didn’t offer any sign of kindness. She seemed busy -occupied- in the way that she moved and looked around, which is why he didn’t look at her any longer so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. However, he then began getting the feeling that she was keeping an eye on him, and when he glanced at her nervous hands, he noticed the poor woman holding a needle to her skin, poking her own hand a few times.

A desperate soul.

On one side of a binary coin, some people don’t believe in soulmates. They aren’t the easiest to spot, and when a couple like that is seen, there is no proof for a simple skeptical individual that they actually felt each other’s pain. There were studies proving the neuronal effects, and were those hard to execute, but not everyone fell for them. Some argued that it was psychological placebo, that the person forced themselves to feel their lover’s feelings, some accused the studies to be biased or false. Some were old and hadn’t found one so why would they believe soulmates were real? They’re not necessary. You don’t just love the person you’ll want to spend the rest of your life with, and them alone, there’s all kinds of love and affection. Then, well… some were simply bitter, covering up their fear of never finding one for themselves.

On the polar opposite, there were the desperate ones. They would inflict harm on themselves in public spaces, expecting a reaction from the passersby.

More than once had Sam seen a man stab their own leg or cut through their palm yelling ‘can anybody feel this?’ as if they feared this was their only shot, forcing the Falcon to run and make them stop hurting themselves along with other civilians. Some couldn’t wait. And Sam never understood why someone wouldn’t be able to enjoy life if they didn’t know their one and only; It made dating much more relaxed and fun and honest. Perhaps that person would eventually become your soulmate, and even though the probabilities of that happening were slim to none, it didn’t need to ruin every romantic relationship in your life.

Therefore with pain in his chest, he addressed the young woman whose eyes were directly analyzing Sam’s hand.

“Hey, lady?” he asked her, earning a big pair of hopeful eyes to find his; yet he had to give her a sad frown to let her know he wasn’t who she was looking for, thus gaining a mimicking disappointed look, “It’s not worth all this trouble.”

Her expression quickly turned into one of distance, like she was trying to protect herself from people who didn’t understand her. She sat back and allowed a smirk to take over her face as she stared into nothingness.

“You’re one of those people who think it’s all a hoax? A construct?” when obtaining no reply, she kept pressuring the Falcon, “Placebo effect? Self-conditioning?”

Sam didn’t give in. He simply took a big breath and sat up from the bench. When he turned to face her, her eyes weren’t as distant.

“No.” He said calmly, “I think yours will come when it’s time. Until then,” he raised his eyebrows a bit, “you’re just hurting yourself for no reason.”

Sam walked away before he could see the young woman’s lower lip tremble.

-

“I didn’t eat your cereal.” Bucky protested, plopped on the couch that faced a flat screen.

Sam, however, wasn’t buying it. He held his ground, one hand on his hip and the other agitating the skimpy remains inside the carton box, making it rattle.

“It’s empty.” He insisted, in a way that screamed paranoia over being accused of overreacting or being crazy.

Instead of acting in an opposite behavior, he gave Bucky all the more reason to treat him as if he were going insane.

“Well, it wasn’t me.” The soldier replied easily, not flipping through the channels anymore but surrendering to a local news one; after a sigh, he looked at the accusatory, “Maybe Steve did it.”

Sam pursed his lips before turning to Steve with a dead look on his face.

“Steve, did you eat my cereal?” he asked condescendingly, already knowing the answer to be no.

As a matter of fact, the blonde’s shirt had small dark spots where he sweat his morning jog on, his hair was still perfect for a regular person but a bit disheveled for Captain America’s inhuman standards, and he was focused on drinking from a water bottle.

He tilted his head to Sam, who nodded, more agreeing with himself than with Rogers.

“You’re the only one who stays on the couch all morning.” He braked back at Barnes.

He didn’t respond this time, perhaps because he was, once again, being accused of being lazy and not using his time nor his gifts wisely. Perhaps because he was just tired of saying he didn’t eat the cereals in question when he had undoubtedly and decisively eaten the cereals in question.

Paying attention to the random local news he’d landed on, he got the gist of what the reporter was saying. They were presenting a quirky story of a bitter man suing his soulmate. He claimed the only reason he got into a car accident was because he felt a sudden sharp pain in his foot and got distracted, and therefore, was asking for his soulmate to pay off the insurance money. Of course they had to find the soulmate who was allegedly responsible for the crash.

“That’s ridiculous.” Bucky mocked.

Sam sat next to him, already having dropped the subject of the missing cereals. He listened to the reporter interviewing the odd man and let an amused but very quickly evaporated smile.

“People have been pulling stunts like these for ages, you can’t be surprised.”

Barnes glanced at him for a second, then returning to the TV. He still thought it was the stupidest reason to sue he’d ever heard of.

“It’s insane.” He said anyways.

“I think it’s sad.” Sam derailed the commentary on an opposite direction, “Can’t be fun starting your lifelong love story through a lawsuit.”

Steve joined the conversation from behind the couch. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a way of getting their attention. You know, find them whatever it takes. It’s actually kind of romantic.”

Bucky scoffed. He couldn’t stop Steve from being such a hopeless romantic and blindly believe in fairy tales where there was none, but he could still be annoyed by the fact.

“A little convenient, isn’t it?” he raised an eyebrow in judgement, yet not turning around to face the blonde.

“What?” Sam shot defiantly, “You don’t believe in this stuff?”

They both knew he was referring to the soulmates paraphernalia. With his glum attitude and dark observations, Barnes did seem like the kind of people to discard the idea of a soulmate. Love that never changes, souls that bond… it did not sound like James Buchanan Barnes’ cup of tea.

“Not the whole part.” He admitted, “I think there’s a lot of bullshit to it.”

The smirk grew on Wilson’s face, “So you’re one of those wacko conspirationists?”

“What if I am?” Bucky shot back, just to mess with him.

He wasn’t though, or not when it came to soulmates, at least. NASA and the government, on the other hand? The man had seen too much inside Hydra to not believe any crazy theory to be possible. He dropped the subject and became more serious, shrugging a little.

“All I’m saying is there’s lots of rules and conditions, I mean, who makes the calls?” Bucky questioned, almost angry, “Who chooses everyone’s partners? And what if you hate your soulmate?”

“That’s the point.” Steve intervened with his bright optimism, “You won’t. They’re your other half.”

Bucky pursed his lips and picked up the remote to switch channels again.

“Sounds real dumb.”

[firefly-in-darkness]

Aftermath.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: “Go fuck yourself!” “Come fuck me yourself, coward!” - highlighted in bold.

Summary: What happens after the hunt that almost - ALMOST - went wrong.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This is a one shot for @nastybuckybarnes who is celebrating their 2k follower milestone - congratulations! Unfortunately, they have had some bad experiences on Tumblr lately and have logged off temporarily. I hope they come back feeling better after a break.

Firefly’s Library & Masterlist

The impala was drowning in silence, the tension swirling around the passengers as it drifted down the highway. The sunset engulfed the sleek black car in warmth with its hues of orange and pink, yet, the interior of leather seats, where the hunters sat, remained cold and dark.

 From the backseat, your eyes followed the people that the impala passed by, indulging in their peace; a young woman laughing on the phone, two kids on skateboards, an elderly couple walking hand in hand. The joy in the everyday brought a sigh from deep within your chest.

 Anxiety and fear blossomed as you tried to forget how you and your counterparts were wounded with clothes soaked in blood and torn to pieces. You yanked the window down, filling your lungs with air until they stung in protest. Physical pain tore away and dislodged the emotional trauma of your hunt. The air was brittle and snapped against your cheeks. They bloomed in rawness from the bitter air and the salty remains of the soundless tears that had fallen since you curled into the back of the car a few hours ago.

 The impala glided into a motel parking lot, a wordless conversation was exchanged between the brothers in front of you before they unloaded themselves from their seats. You watched Sam as he put on a jacket to hide the blood stains before he approached the reception.

 Huffs and grunts from the other side caught your attention, Dean had grabbed the bags and yanked the seat forward for you. You unfurled your aching limbs and climbed out of the car. The seatbelt had twisted around your ankle and you nearly face planted the floor.

 Dean pulled your arm harshly, moving you to the side to shut the car door. Jerking your arm out of his grip took all your strength. You glared at him, but he did not look at you. He could not see the fire dancing across your eyes. He shoved your bag into your chest and turned towards Sam who was opening a door to a room.

 You approached and Sam stretched out to place a key in your hand. In all the years of hunting, you had always shared a room with the Winchesters, except for once or twice. Even then, you shared with one of them.

 “Y/N, are you okay?” Sam all but whispered.

 When you eventually looked up, there was no malice like you had expected. There was only concern and care in his eyes. “Yes Sammy, I’ll patch myself up and get some rest.”

 Sam grabbed your twitching fingers with one of his hands, “And what about here, and here?”

He pointed at his chest and then his head, he knew you were likely to avoid answering his previous question properly.

 You blew a frustrated sigh through your lips, “I’m okay, I don’t know what happened and I know what I did was dangerous, but it worked.”

 “You scared both of us.”

 “Yeah right, Dean hasn’t said a single word to me, or looked at me once see we took out those vampires.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

 Sam squeezed your hands and smiled softly, “He’ll come around.”

 “Doubt it this time Sammy, looks like I’ll be going solo from now on.”

 “Y/N don’t think like that. We love having you around, we just want you to be safe. We are your friends, your family now.”

 You rose from your seat and shut Sam out instantly, “I’m tired. I am going to leave now.”

 Sam pulled you into a hug but regretted it as he felt your stiffness. He pulled away from the awkward embrace and let you go without another word or a second glance.

  You walked towards the door with the corresponding key number and pushed it open to find an unwelcoming, cold and musty room. You threw the bag onto the bed and pulled off your boots. Jeans and t-shirt fell haphazardly on the floor, discarded the same way that Sam and Dean had pushed you aside in the parking lot.

 You scrubbed away the dirt and tended to the scrapes and bruises that were scattered across your body. The low-pressure shower did nothing to ease the ache in your bones and the water was not hot enough to replace the coldness in your heart. The gap in your chest was filled with dread and guilt for the conversations that were to come.

 Now dressed in an old band t-shirt, two sizes too big, and some leggings, you sat on the bed and rested your back against the wall. You brushed your wet hair, loosening the knots gently and feeling the weight of the hunt release from your shoulders.

 You had flicked through a dozen tv channels before finding a programme about orangutans in Borneo. Watching the creatures attending a Jungle School, preparing the orphans to return to the wild once they had the skills to survive.

 You scoffed at the parallel to your own life before switching off the lights. The bed and blankets enveloped you into a sanctuary of warmth. Sleep arrived without hesitation.

  The smell of rotting flesh and damp wood filled your nose as you entered the barn. Your heart was pumping twice as fast as blood flowed out of your wounds, pouring down your arms and legs.

 You were stood in a large pool of blood with Vampires circling you, snarling and snapping their jaws. The vampires rushed you. You shouted for Sam and Dean.

 Nobody was there to hear your screams.

  You shot up from the bed, arms wrapping tightly around your knees as you focused on calming the panic bubbling in your chest. Using the bottom of your t-shirt, you wiped away the sweat beading on your forehead. Too shaken to go back to sleep, you got dressed and packed your bag.

 The grey sky had turned to blue as you left the motel room. You walked past the Winchesters’ room and noted that the curtains had yet to be opened and the impala was still in its parking bay. You hoped you could drop the keys off without being spotted and be long gone before they noticed you had left.

  A cough from behind you brought your attention away from the reception. You turned around to see Dean, but you could not read his expression. Your own emotions were too clouded to judge his at this point, you were exhausted from the hunt and the nightmare.

 Dean was standing with his arms folded across his chest, the t-shirt stretched around his biceps and you could not help but stare at how handsome he was. Even first thing in the morning, even after the last couple of years of spending every day with him.

  You nodded at Dean, the words were stuck in your throat.

 “Silent treatment, really? After the stunt you pulled yesterday?” Dean growled at you, hands on his hips and a disappointed look in his eyes.

 “Oh – erm, well I-” The growl had thrown you off, a surge of desire crept up and you blushed.

 Dean raised his arms in frustration, “Spit it out Y/N.”

 Dean’s anger filtered through and shattered your fantasy, “I will not apologise for what happened yesterday, it worked in our favour.” You shuffled your feet and adjusted the strap on your shoulder.

 “You were reckless and stupid, you could have gotten us all killed!”

 Rage boiled inside your veins and tears threatened at the way Dean was speaking to you, like you were a child, not a hunter. “But here you are, alive and well.”

 Before your anger could seep into your words any more, you turned on your heel and walked off.

Dean rushed in front of you, halting you to the spot. You looked at his hands, gripping above your elbows. The touch was welcomed, and once again Dean misinterpreted your reaction and removed his hands back to his hips.

 “Where do you think you are going sweetheart?” Dean quirked his eyebrow, the hatred, you had thought you had seen, disappeared from his face and was replaced with worry.

 You couldn’t look at him anymore, “I know when my time is up with the Winchesters.”

 “Y/N, I don’t want you to leave and Sammy sure as hell doesn’t. Let’s go back to our room and talk about this.”

 You snarled and shook your head, “Our – OUR- room. You both left me, I was isolated and alone. You know how the nightmares get…” Your voice trailed off as Dean pulled you towards the room.

  Dean ushered Sam out of the room, giving him the keys to the impala to get food. You didn’t register anything other than him guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. Dean knelt in front of you, his hands were flat on your thighs, anchoring you down to the bed. His green eyes explored yours, trying to get you to speak.

 You finally whispered, “You did, what I asked you not to do.”

He had the audacity to smirk, “Sweetheart, you can’t give orders and not follow them yourself.”

 “Are you serious? This has nothing to do with my behaviour and you know it.”

 “I know, I know. I didn’t mean it like that.” Dean dragged his hand down his face, searching for the right words as his index finger rubbed his temple. “You just have to stop trying to get yourself killed all the damn time. It’s not good for you and it’s not good for me or Sammy.”

 “I’ll leave then.” You shoved past him.

 “If you open that door, I am not coming after you.” Dean shook his head and slumped into the chair.

 You glanced over your shoulder, words flew off your tongue like venom, “You made that very clear yesterday asshole.”

  “Go fuck yourself!” he roared at you across the room.

 “Come fuck me yourself, coward!” You yelled back. Your eyes widened and your hand clasped over your mouth. The blush rose on your cheeks and your chest heaved with embarrassment.

 “Wh-what did you just say?” Dean slowly walked towards you.

 Before you knew it, he had taken your hand away from the door. Your bodies were barely touching yet you felt electric. An arm wrapped around your waist, his hand spread heat into your lower back.

 Dean lifted your chin, guiding your eyes to look at him. His lips were brushed against yours as he spoke, “What did you say?”

 You whispered, “Come fuck me yourself, coward.”

 Dean did not hesitate as he kissed you, his lips were as sweet as you had imagined many times before. The kiss was soft and full of longing.

You broke away and grinned, “I thought you weren’t going to come after me?”

 Dean scoffed and pulled you back into the room, “I said ‘if you open that door’, didn’t mean I was going to let you open it in the first place.”

  You both fell onto the bed in a tangled mess of limbs and kisses.

[bazzybelle]

Carry On Countdown - Day One

Notes: I am so stressed out posting this! It’s my first tumblr fic (I’ve got two already on AO3), and I’m so nervous. I am also so excited to be doing this, but I won’t be completing all the prompts. 

Attempting to post this at work, during my lunch break. I got this idea when listening to The Sounds’ “Midnight Sun”. The lyrics are beautiful (Give this band a listen, they’re amazing). Takes place in the future after the events in Wayward Son. Huge thanks to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for the Beta read. 

I will also be posting this on AO3, either later on today, or after the Carry On Countdown is done. 

Day 1 Prompt: Sun/Moon

Title: Midnight Sun

________________________________________________________________

I will be coming with you. Tonight, you’re all that I want; You’re all I have; You’re all I need. 

SIMON

“Baz? Where are we going exactly?”

“You really need to learn to trust me, Snow.”

Baz grasps my hand firmly in his own. He’s leading me down a winding path. I’m starting to become impatient with our little journey. It seems like we have been walking for hours. The uncertainty coupled with the darkness of midnight would normally make me nervous. However, every time I’m with Baz, I feel safe. He makes me feel safe.

We’re walking along a footpath in the Kent Downs. We had decided, a week ago, to take a small holiday away from London. It’s been a little over a year since our previous “holiday” (depending on your definition of holiday – it was more like a bloody nightmare) in America. A year since we almost lost each other. A year since I begrudgingly decided to go back to therapy.

It hasn’t been easy. Going back to therapy. There were moments where I wanted to give up. Actually, they occurred more often than not. The demon of self-doubt perched on my shoulder was, at times, much louder than the spirit of perseverance. Days where the demon was especially loud were the days where Baz and I would get into a row. They were never particularly bad ones, just a lot of frustration from either side. Baz, from not knowing what to do to help; Me, with myself, for falling into the familiar toxic thought patterns. Those days, I’d look at Baz and again wonder what this beautiful vampire saw in me and when he would decide that it just wasn’t worth it anymore.

Those days were the worst.

I had decided long ago that I would fight for us. I’m not sure when exactly everything clicked into place, but sometime after the talk on the beach in San Diego, I think I realized that Baz and I completed each other. And that whatever I had to face or battle, it was better with Baz by my side. That no matter what argument we had, Baz would always be there, ready to talk. 

And Baz never pushed me. Not through the struggle to talk about my feelings or my trauma; Not through the days where I was in a particularly bad mood; Not through the many long nights struggling with intimacy; Not through any of it. Crowley, I loved him so much for that. Eventually, with Baz’s patience and love, I had begun to find my voice again. Through finding my voice, I started to gain confidence again and the rest had begun to fall into place

I’ve even started to become comfortable with my wings and tail. Although Dr. Wellbelove had offered to remove my extra appendages, I decided to reject his offer. They are a part of who I am. To amputate them would be comparable to removing my arms or legs. I’ve learned to appreciate and love them. Besides, Baz adores my wings, so there is no way I’ll be removing them. I’ve found a way to live with them. Whether it be to spell them invisible, or to act as if they were a part of an elaborate costume when walking in town. 

Things were getting better. 

We had decided to take this little holiday in Dover, as a sort of celebration for how far we’ve both come. We decided to go to Dover because Baz’s family has a small cottage in the town that was rarely used. It had fallen into disarray within the last fifteen years. Baz had requested, to his father, that in exchange for fixing up the place, that he be allowed to use it freely. After going over budgets and plans, Mr. Grimm agreed. 

So that’s what we’re primarily using this holiday for. Our plan is to spend the summer fixing up the small cottage. To be honest, I don’t understand the significance of the place, but Baz seems to be happy, so I just go along with it. It’s been interesting, to say the least. Neither one of us really has any experience with renovating a property, so it’s been a learning experience if anything. 

Today was spent getting acquainted with the townsfolk, particularly with the small business owners who could supply us with the materials needed to complete our project. It never ceases to amaze me, just how polite and courteous Baz is with everyone he meets, and how they are all charmed by him. Most of them even seem to know who he is and who his family is. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Pitch influence spread all across the United Kingdom.

“We’re almost there!” 

My thoughts are interrupted by Baz’s animated voice. I can feel my heart fluttering as Baz turns back to me. The light from the moon is hitting his white skin, making it look nearly pearlescent. His deep sea-grey eyes are shining with glee, almost in an innocent, child-like manner. Even in his light grey jeans and dark blue jumper, he looks elegant. He’s always elegant, the beautiful git. Baz lets go of my hand and starts to run up ahead, raven hair flowing in the wind. He turns to me and joyously beckons me forward.

I’m spellbound by him. I’m always spellbound by Baz. I’d follow him anywhere and everywhere. I give Baz a half-smile and follow, hands shoved into the pockets of my Levi jeans. 

I’m glad that I follow him here, because what he has to show me is beyond incredible. A small sound escapes my lips as I take in the view. Just up ahead, is the cliff’s edge. But it isn’t the cliff’s edge that exhilarates me, but what lies beyond it. Just over the cliff is an endless array of sea and stars. I turn to Baz, whose expression can be summed up as a combination of amusement and delight. 

“Baz… this is… it’s… incredible.” I feel long cold fingers intertwining with my own, and a soft bump on the side of my face as Baz leans closer to me. 

“These are the White Cliffs of Dover. We used to come here often when I was a child, before my mother died. She loved this place,” There’s a hint of mournful nostalgia in Baz’s voice. I now understand why the holiday and project were so important to him. I offer him a kiss on his cheek and give his hand a small squeeze.

“Come. Let’s sit down for a while, shall we?” Baz sits down on the grass and pulls me down with him. A giddy laugh escapes my lips at the surprise and at how uncharacteristically light-hearted Baz is acting. I assume that it’s due to being in a place where he felt true happiness. I settle in and snuggle up close to Baz. His long legs are pulled up close, and his hands are resting lazily off his knees. I reach over and grasp one, as I lay my head on his shoulder. As I feel a soft kiss being placed upon my head, I can’t help but smile dreamily. One of my wings wraps around Baz in a protective embrace. I’m so in love with him right now. I look out to the endless sky and sea, and back to Baz. 

“Baz?”

“Hmm…?”

“I want to try something.”

Baz arches an eyebrow at me, “Oh? Should I be worried?” I flash him a playful smile. 

“You really need to learn to trust me, Pitch.”

I decide to ignore Baz rolling his eyes and his embarrassed smile, I know he loves it when I call him by his last name. I lift myself up from the ground. I wonder if this is a good idea as I roll my shoulders back and stretch my neck. I stare ahead, with a look of conviction plastered on my freckled face. My wings stretch out behind me and flap in the wind. I look down at Baz who is frowning at me.

“Snow… what are you…”

I don’t let him finish, because I’m off. I sprint towards the edge of the cliff and jump. I barely hear Baz shrieking as the wind rushes around me. 

“SIMON!”

___________

BAZ

He’s a damn fool!

Simon Snow is a damn bloody fool who takes a sadistic pleasure in scaring his boyfriend half to death. 

At least, that’s what’s going through my mind as I watch Simon soar into the sky from the bottom of the cliff.

I had tried to grab him as he sprinted off the cliff, but I just missed him. And for a moment, I truly thought the world was ending. For a brief moment, I believed that everything was lost. I was ready to jump down after him. Luckily, Simon flew up from the darkness in a matter of seconds, and my fear turned to fury. As Simon took off into the sky, I just stood near the edge of the cliff (not too close as these cliffs were known to be highly erosive — a fact that I would have gladly shared with my idiot boyfriend had I known what he was planning on doing), arms crossed over my chest and an angry scowl across my face.

As I continue to stare at him, I cannot stay mad. Simon is breathtaking. His wings flapping magnificently as he glides through the air. I sigh as Simon spins around and flips over. It is incredible. A man obtains a pair of wings and all of a sudden they start pulling stunts as if they are in Cirque de Bloody Soleil. 

I can feel myself melting inside. Simon looks alive. 

So alive.

Over the last year, Simon had been making so much progress, and today, it was all coming to a head. Bit by bit, the love of my life was becoming more and more like himself. He was finding his light once more, and it was such a beautiful thing to see. As Simon soars in the sky, I take a deep breath, so as to not show the happy tears that were forming in my eyes. With his bright smile, Simon is a beacon in the night. A sun amidst the darkness of midnight. 

My sun.

Simon spins around, dancing amongst the stars. He is so elegant, so graceful. He belongs there. The skies have accepted him as one of their own. A reimagined version of Apollo. 

Suddenly, he twirls back towards the cliff. I roll my eyes as Simon dives towards me. Before I can comprehend what is happening, my feet are longer touching the ground. In one fell swoop, Simon has scooped me up with ease and is taking flight once more. 

I yelp in surprise and wrap my arms around Simon’s neck. Simon holds me close, one hand under my legs and the other securing my back. 

“Snow! Have you gone mental? Put me down!”

“Baz. Trust me.”

We rise higher and higher. I feet the wind whipping around my hair, and I wish I had my mother’s scarf with me. I am glad that I’m wearing a thick jumper, even though I had begun to get a chill. I clutch onto Simon tighter, more for warmth than in fear. Suddenly, Simon stops soaring and straightens his body out. I look out and gasp in surprise. I can see the town on one side, and the coast of France on the other. The tiny lights dotting the cliffside like the fireflies we had seen in America. I look above us, and where the sky is normally full of clouds, it is now full of tiny speckled stars. 

It is breath-taking.

I turn to Simon and smile at him. Cheeky idiot, knows I’d love this. He knows that I’d remember our brief moment of closeness in America. The night we lay in the back of a pickup truck and just held each other. 

I do. I remember, Simon. 

I move one of my hands to his face. I trace my finger down the curve of his jaw and study the moles that dot his features. Simon’s eyes are lit with wonder, his smile bright enough to light our way home. My other hand moves to Simon’s chest to feel his heartbeat. It is strong, steady. 

Simon leans over and plants a soft kiss upon my lips. He smiles lovingly at me. I decide to grab a hold of his neck and pull him down in order to respond with a deeper kiss of my own. The sudden shock of passion causes Simon to lose focus and he loses a little height. Our kiss breaks and I giggle in surprise.

“Next time you decide to play cliff-diver, warn me first, will you?”; I say as I playfully hit Simon’s chest. Simon laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“What, and have you try to convince me not to do it? No, I think this was more fun.”

“I think you’ve finally gone mad.” I drawl while poking Simon’s nose. My hand reaches up to twirl his curls affectionately. Simon leans over me and plants another kiss on my forehead.  

I feel a soft breath on my cheek. Simon speaks tenderly to me, “It was bound to happen eventually. I am in love with you after all.” 

My heart stops. And my breath hitches in my throat. I blink stupidly at Simon, slowly trying to comprehend what just happened. 

He loves me.

Simon Snow loves me.

I grab Simon’s face and draw it towards mine. I nuzzle our noses together. This amazing, insane, disaster of a man loves me. I feel so happy in that moment, that I am practically dizzy. I plant two delicate kisses upon Simon’s closed eyes. 

“I love you to.”

Simon laughs and embraces me into a final deep kiss. We remain that way for a few more moments, lost amongst the skies. 

Oh you, will be shining on me. Like a Midnight Sun, you’re the only one who could set me free. You will set me free.

[weakeninghope]

New romantic sailors

Pairing: Pannacotta Fugo/Narancia Ghirga

Rating: Teen

AO3 link here

Summary:  That’s right. Narancia Ghirga has a crush on Pannacotta Fugo. Has had one since they met. Since he got to know the silver-haired.They’ve argued more than once; Narancia’s ended up pointing his knife at the other a few times, Fugo has even stabbed him with a fork one day they started talking about famous actors and Narancia couldn’t even name one right because he kept messing up their names and Fugo lost his temper… but Narancia doesn’t mind.

Notes:  

Hello! It's me again

I really wanted to write for days two and three, but I didn't have any ideas, so have this instead. I combined two prompts for day four: Study and First Kiss.

Sorry for the OOC and the mistakes (I'm Spanish so English isn't my first language) and I hope you've enjoyed this!

Twitter: Shirotxpoison Tumblr: weakeninghope

Comments and kudos are much appreciated <3

fic under the cut!

“Man” Narancia says “This sucks, I don’t wanna keep going” He finishes with an exasperated sigh to which Fugo answers with an eyeroll. They’ve been stuck with the same math problem for an hour, and both of them are tired already. Narancia curses having suggested this.

It was Mista’s idea. Narancia and Mista have had this kind of friendship since they met a few months ago. They spend their time together lazily on Mista’s bed, eating popcorn, watching terrible movies, commenting them (because Mista can’t shut the fuck up, and honestly, Narancia can’t either). But Mista’s ridiculously scared of horror movies and he screams at every fucking jumpscare, and his pistols are always trying to calm him, or laughing at him, or crying (poor number five), so Narancia has no other option but to laugh. Spending time with Mista is fun.

They also have the kind of “talk about your crush” friendship. Mista just talks about how cute women are in general and how you have to respect them because if you don’t that automatically makes you an asshole (he’s right), but Narancia has… other interests.

One particular interest. A particular silver-haired with red eyes and strawberry earrings.

That’s right. Narancia Ghirga has a crush on Pannacotta Fugo. Has had one since they met. Since he got to know the silver-haired.

They’ve argued more than once; Narancia’s ended up pointing his knife at the other a few times, Fugo has even stabbed him with a fork one day they started talking about famous actors and Narancia couldn’t even name one right because he kept messing up their names and Fugo lost his temper… but Narancia doesn’t mind.

Okay, he does mind. No one stabs Narancia Ghirga with a fork and gets away with it, not after Narancia having had to cope with his bastards of friends using him and treating him as if he was an idiot. Since then, and ever since he joined the mob, Narancia’s learned to fight for his pride. Fugo has had an important role in that.

In the first few missions of the gang when Narancia was present, he was just used as backup, or sometimes, even gotten left out of the mission because his eye was still healing or because he was a novice and Bucciarati, always loyal, caring Bucciarati, didn’t want to risk his life. But Narancia wanted to fight. Wanted to prove that he was valuable. That he wasn’t what his father or his fake friends believed him to be.

But Fugo changed that. Fugo lifted his confidence up. When his eye healed, Fugo told Bucciarati to let Narancia fight. That he could do it.

Fugo was the first one to believe in Narancia. Fugo was the one who saved him. And since that day, Narancia has done anything but admire him and start to look at him noticing all the tiny details. Not only about his personality, but about his physique as well.

When they fought together, Narancia could feel the thrill running through his veins and Fugo’s. Could see the younger’s little smirk when they fought against an enemy and he knew that he had luck on his side. Could notice how slender he look, how pale, how ethereal. Could notice the sound of his voice, could listen to the melodic sound of their footsteps combined when they won against an enemy and were returning home together. Could get engaged in silly conversations with him when they were alone and make him laugh with his nonsense.

In a short span of time, Fugo’s laugh became Narancia’s favorite sound (Mista’s yells at horror moives were a close second, but nothing could top Fugo’s laugh). Fugo’s laugh ranged from a polite chuckle, to a dark, short laugh when he thought he was going to beat the enemy’s ass up, to a sad, sarcastic laugh when he had a bad day, to an explosive, contagious laughter that day when Narancia spilled orange juice on himself. Narancia really was preparing himself to be stabbed, but instead, Fugo’s laughter bubbled out of his chest like a volcano erupting, unstoppable, getting louder and louder, blessing Narancia’s ears. Fugo’s eyes wrinkled a bit and became blurry with some tears after having laughed for a good five minutes. Narancia also noticed Fugo’s little blushes when he complimented him. Everything in Fugo was so, so cute.

Which brought him to the crush talk with Mista. That was when Mista suggested that Fugo was probably into him as well. Quoting Mista’s words “Fugo seems like the type to be attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses only, and you are one, so you two are a perfect match”.

Narancia then asked Mista for a way to get closer to Fugo, and Mista suggested tutoring sessions, since it would also be good for Narancia because he wanted to school someday. At first, Narancia had thought that it was a good idea, so he accepted without giving it a second thought.

But the first day of tutoring was a nightmare.

“You were the one to suggest this, Narancia.” Fugo sighed. He looked as tired as Narancia, but it wasn’t as if he was going to lose control, he was exhausted, he didn’t have enough energy to get angry at Narancia and pull a violent stunt against him or something like that.

“Yeah… I was…” Because I wanted to get closer to you. Because I like you a lot, you can’t even imagine how.

“I was thinking… what if you give me a reward?” Narancia asked. He was going to be brave. He was going to ask for a kiss.

“What reward? You haven’t completed one single problem yet and you’re asking me for a reward? I would get angry at you if I had the energy to, you’re lucky you’ve wasted all of it.” Fugo concluded, his palm supporting his head, looking intently at Narancia. God Narancia thought his

eyes are so beautiful, I could easily get lost in them.

“I need some motivation” Narancia said. Heat was starting to rush onto his cheekbones. “W-what if you… you know… k-kiss me?” He couldn’t believe he was stuttering like a highschool girl, but he was in front of his crush and he had just asked for a kiss, after all!

“…” Silence.

“Fugo?”…

“…”

“Are you here with me?”

“I SAID FINE!” He rose his voice. And his head, since he had hidden it in the table in between his arms. When he looked at Narancia, he could see that he was equally as flushed.

“Okay…” Narancia said.

“But get closer to me, maybe?” Narancia suggested.

Fugo scooted closer to Narancia and brought his chair next to him.

“You’re so stiff, Fugo. And you’re blushing~” Narancia teased, even though he didn’t have the right to since he was flustered as well.

“Oh, come on! You’re blushing too!” Fugo exclaimed.

“So you like me?” Narancia kept teasing, raising his eyebrow. Try to flirt. Remain calm. You’re going to kiss your crush but everything is okay.

“You’re the one who suggested the kissing, you like me.” Fugo stated, clearly nervous. He didn’t know what to say or how to act.

“Shuddup and kiss me.”

And as fast as he said it, it happened. Narancia didn’t even have time to close his eyes. He just felt a press of lips, thin as a feather, gone in a second. Narancia didn’t have time to process if it had felt good, because he barely felt it.

“Fugo…”

“What.”

“You call that a kiss?”

“If you can do it better than me, then I dare you!” Fugo exclaimed, beet red. They were both embarrassed, but someone had to take the lead, and it was going to be Narancia.

So Narancia brought one hand to cradle Fugo’s jaw and the other to tangle itself in the back of Fugo’s head, caressing his soft, silver locks. When Fugo and Narancia’s lips pressed together, Narancia felt it everything. At first he was petrified; Fugo’s lips were too soft, he didn’t know what to do, so he thought about Mista’s advices. Move you lips slowly, give the other time to adapt to your movements, caress the other so they know that you’re doing this because you like them, because you want them to feel good; and it seemed to work, because as soon as Narancia started slowly moving his lips against Fugo’s, Fugo reciprocated and their lips starting slotting against each other, fitting perfectly like puzzle pieces. Fugo’s hands, at first resting nervously on the table, came to hold Narancia’s waist. After about a minute of this, Narancia was surprised to feel something wet prodding at his bottom lip. It was Fugo’s tongue asking for entrance, and Narancia complied immediately.

When Fugo’s tongue entered his mouth, the kiss took a new dimension. At first Fugo’s tongue was shy, but when it encountered Narancia’s and they shyly and quietly tangled together, wet sounds started filling the room and Narancia started feeling brave, amazing, as if he had accomplished his dream. Because he had accomplished his dream. Here he was, making out with his crush. He didn’t want it to stop, but they eventually had to part for air.

Fugo gasped and panted against his mouth, and after what it felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“Now you feel motivated to keep going with your math?” He asked.

“Nah, I prefer to kiss and cuddle on the couch.”

“Deal.”

[project-stormblessed]

1-50

Alrighty!

1. What color are your socks?

All of my socks are either completely black or black and gray. Lol.

2. Have you ever lied about your age? Why?

Only once when I was like, 12 or 13 making a second Youtube account lol.

3. What is something you regret in the past month?

Becoming distant and isolating myself from most of my friends. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health tbh.

4. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Honestly? Not sure. Part of me doesn’t, and part of me does. Can’t really get either part to agree one way or the other.

5. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper? Definitely well over a decade ago. Honestly can’t remember.

6. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? Who taught you?

I was 11 or 12, and it was my older brother Jack who taught me. He also taught me how to drive lol.

7. Do you get along with your parents? Why or why not?

We get along well enough. Now that they’re retired the house is a much calmer environment.

8. What’s your favorite season?

Spring. I love seeing everything in bloom—the colors are very pleasing to me. I love seeing lots of green, and lots of lush plantlife.

9. Do you currently like someone?

Hmm, not entirely sure about that one. I guess I don’t really have any strong feelings for anyone in particular. Maybe. 👀👀

10. Have you ever used an Ouija board?

Nope, and I don’t plan on it.

11. What’s the last song you sang?

It was a song for choir this past semester, though I don’t remember the title that well or the composer.

12. What’s your favorite scent?

Never really had a favorite scent, honestly. My sense of smell has been pretty dull/weak for as long as I can remember and I’ve never really given much thought to any favorite scent.

13. What’s your favorite urban legend?

The Roswell UFO incident of 1947. It sparked my interest in aliens and UFOs at a very young age, and is probably responsible for a good deal of my love for sci-fi.

14. What’s a bad habit that you have?

Poor self control when it comes to time management. I tend to let myself get absorbed in things.

15. What’s a strange habit that you have?

Hmm. Totally blanked and could only come up with “making noises and pretending to be a mech of some sort when moving around my house”. That’s all I got.

16. What’s the first instrument you learned to play?

Piano. I started learning at 8 years old.

17. How would you describe your ‘type’?

Y’know funny enough I’ve never really thought I had a type. However reaching my mid-twenties has made me realize that my ‘type’ is kind, compassionate, goofy, and nerdy/geeky.

18. Would you rather stay in or go out?

Depends on the company, I guess. Though, usually I prefer to stay in anyway.

19. What was the last thing you said to your mom?

“I’m taking Dax out.” When I went for a walk with my dog lol.

20. Do you want to get married someday?

Definitely didn’t used to. I’m at the point where I’d be down if my partner wanted to, though I’m not sure I’d wanna spend a shitload of money on a wedding. Guess it depends on financial status at the time and the preferences of my partner.

21. Have you ever snuck out?

Nah, though I never needed to. My parents typically let me leave house whenever I wanted to as long as I told them who I’m with and when-ish I’m going to be home.

22. Can you sing well?

I can match pitch pretty well, but I can’t produce pitch un-aided. Usually. So kinda. I’m ok at best, all things considered.

23. What’s an embarrassing thing that happened this week?

I went off on some of my friends over something kinda silly because my mental state as of late hasn’t been all that great.

24. When was the last time you went sledding?

Uhhh, definitely more than ten years ago.

25. Have you ever liked/do you like someone you know you can never be with?

You kidding me? That’s like, all of my crushes ever. Maybe that’s an exaggeration but honestly it’s certainly FELT that way each time.

26. Do people often mispronounce your name?

No, though I have known a few people throughout my life that said “Bin” rather than “Ben”. I eventually realised it was an accent thing and stopped giving a shit very early.

27. Would you like to live in another country?

Yes, actually. For no small number of reasons. I’ve always wanted to live in Italy ever since I visited when I was 15.

28. Do you like to watch ghost hunting shows?

I definitely used to. I don’t really watch tv much in general anymore, though.

29. Who was the last person you said “I love you” too?

My mom.

30. What’s something you’d like to be better at?

Social interaction. Speaking in general. I’m MUCH more articulate in writing/typing than I am speaking.

31. Have you ever stayed up with someone who was sad?

Yes, and I’m always willing to do so.

32. What was the last thing you cooked?

I helped my good friend prepare some bomb ass ramen a few months back. I guess that counts.

33. Do you think you’d make a good parent?

I’d like to think so, yeah. I would make sure my children know I’m always there for them and will support the hell out of them.

34. Do you have trouble sleeping at night?

I don’t, but my dipshit body does.

35. Where is your best friend right now?

All of them are either playing video games or asleep.

36. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Factoring in every aspect of the morning ritual, about 40 minutes. That’s if I’m going somewhere like work or school. If I’m staying home then there’s no getting ready for anything but sitting on my ass lol.

37. How late do you usually stay up at night?

Depends on the time of year/what I’m doing the next day. Right now during quarantine I average anywhere between 2am and 6am. I’m trying to fix that currently.

38. When was the last time you cried and why?

The last time I truly cried was sometime in 2015. I was listening to Breaking Benjamin’s latest album and feeling exceedingly lonely/depressed. It wasn’t a great day.

39. Have you ever won a contest?

None that I can remember, honestly.

40. Can you draw well?

Lol. No. I have very little visual artistic talent or skill.

41. Would you ever date someone you met on tumblr/the internet?

Definitely, though obviously I wouldn’t just jump right in. I’m down for long distance relationships, too. But obviously mutual trust and emotional connection would have to be established first.

42. What was the last thing you ate?

Some brownie fudge M&Ms lol.

43. Do you think you’re/you’d make a good boyfriend?

I don’t really know. Never been in a relationship so I don’t have anything go off of. On the one hand I’m super understanding, laid back, and accepting of boundaries. I just want to make sure people feel comfortable and safe around me. On the other hand I’m also forgetful and very selfish when it comes to my time. I also obviously have plenty of emotional trauma/baggage (who doesn’t?) that tends to impede how I interact with people, so. 🤷🏼‍♂️

44. Have you ever had a near death experience?

Not that I can remember, and I hope I never do. The closest I think I ever came was when I fell off a ropeless bridge into a dry riverbed at 4 years old. Got a concussion from that.

45. What do you think people think of you?

Well, my anxiety tells me I’m annoying and boring. The logical side of me tells me most people in my life enjoy my company, so I guess there’s that.

46. What is your middle name and do you like it?

Don’t feel like sharing my middle name here, but I will say I don’t dislike it. Kinda neutral.

47. Are you close with either of your parents?

Kinda. My parents were often emotionally distant/abusive to my brothers and me growing up, and it’s left me rather stunted emotionally, and generally unwilling to establish a deeper relationship with them. We’re a bit closer than we were when I was a teenager, but honestly not much.

48. Do you like yourself?

Generally speaking? No. There are parts of me I’m proud of, but honestly I often find myself wishing I was someone else. I’m far from the self-loathing I experienced when I was younger, though.

49. State five facts about your appearance—

1. I’m 6’1”-ish.

2. Definitely just a bit chubby.

3. Blue eyes.

4. Currently sporting longer hair because I haven’t had a haircut since about September.

5. I have a number of faded scars on my arms from various self inflicted/work related injuries. All of them were caused by extreme clumsiness/poor spacial awareness.

50. State five facts about your personality—

1. I’m super goofy—I make lots of weird noises and motions.

2. I tend to ramble about things I’m interested in, particularly hyper fixations.

3. I like to think I’m a pretty compassionate human being.

4. Extremely awkward, but strangely that doesn’t show because I’m apparently a social chameleon.

5. I’m an observer, but also an overthinker.

Whew, that was a lot! Thank you, friend!

[angrylizardjacket]

Asher Kids Do An Interview

Choose an OC.

Answer them as that OC.

Tag 5 people to do the same.

Tagging @siriuslymooned​ @sam-writes​ @toplesstaylor​ @rogerandhishair​ and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it!!

[aydtd]

Note: Astrid is the oldest. Cate is the middlest. Barney is the youngest.

1. What is your name?

Cate: Cate Taylor.

Barney: Barney Clarke- Taylor... Sun. 

Astrid: Astrid Taylor.

2. Do you know why are you named that?

Cate: It’s short for Catherine.

Astrid: Is that what it’s short for?

Cate: Shut up.

Barney: What are you short for?

Astrid: That’s just how I grew.

Barney: You grew?

Astrid: I didn’t come out of ma at five-foot nothin’, yeah I fuckin’ grew, ya turnip.

Cate: Barney’s short for Barnabus.

Astrid: Barney’s short for a giant.

Barney: Taller than both of you.

Astrid: Taller than everyone.

Cate: ’s not difficult to be taller than Trid.

Astrid: Shut it; Barney what’s the deal with your last name?

Barney: Clarke is my professional name, I was born a Taylor, and I married into Sun. So legally I’m Barnabus Sun-Taylor, but I’m usually credited professionally as Barney Clarke.

Astrid: Huh. Nice; I didn’t realise you and Mickey [Barney’s partner] hyphenated. I’m named Astrid ‘cos dad liked how it sounded.

3. Are you single or taken?

Barney: Taken. [Barney wiggles the fingers off his left hand, to show where a wedding ring sits neatly on his ring finger.]

Cate: Taken? Taken. Not married though, almost made that mistake before.

Astrid: Single as.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

[There’s a long silence, the three of them look at one another with confusion.]

Barney: I played a superhero once.

Astrid: Oh yeah, you were good in that, what was it-?

Barney: X-Men.

Cate: Did you really forget X-Men?

Astrid: He’s been in a lot of movies!

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Cate: The next time you read an alcoholic, lesbian, disaster Mary Sue, can you please send me a link? 

Astrid: Hey!

Barney: I’m pretty sure it’s ‘Gary Stu’ for me?

Cate: You’re not a Gary Stu... Actually-

Astrid: Maybe a little?

Barney: I’m successful, there’s a difference, I think.

Cate: (amused) Did you put yourself through the litmus test?

Astrid: There’s a litmus test?

6. What’s your eye color?

Astrid: Blue.

Cate: Blue.

Barney: Ma’s eyes all the way; green.

7. How about your hair color?

Barney: Ginger.

Cate: I dunno, I think I’d consider myself a strawberry blonde.

Astrid: We’re a weird sliding scale between mum and dad; I’ve got dad’s blonde hair.

8. Have any family members?

[They look at each other with amusement.]

Astrid: (sarcastically) No, I’ve never seen these people before in my life.

9. Oh? How about pets?

Cate: My daughter’s been asking about getting a dog and I’m pretty sure Joe’s gonna get her one if he gets wind of how much she wants it. 

Astrid: God, imagine her little face if Joe gets her a puppy, oh Christ.

Cate: She’d cry, she’d absolutely cry, like happy tears but... oh, God I’m gonna get a dog aren’t I?

Barney: Pets are great; I love Sir more every day.

Astrid: I hope [Cate’s] dog is nothing like Sir, that cat is an asshole-

Barney: Only to you.

Astrid: Barn, your cat is an asshole.

Barney: You’re an asshole.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

Astrid: Barney’s fucking cat.

Barney: Astrid.

Cate: Calm down you babies. I don’t like wearing high heels.

Astrid: Seconded.

Barney: Thirded.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

Barney: I box.

Astrid: That’s your go-to, isn’t it?

Barney: Fine, I also enjoy swimming, spending time with Mickey, and mixing drinks. 

Cate: That’s cute.

Astrid: I enjoy drinking the drinks he mixes.

Cate: That’s less cute.

Barney: Drinking isn’t a hobby.

Astrid: Alright, I enjoy going to pubs to listen to music, driving fast cars, and spending time with pretty people.

Cate: Yeah, that checks out. I don’t have a lot of time for hobbies, though I play music, my bass mostly, and, ah, studying languages I guess. And spending time with Claud [her daughter], obviously.

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

Astrid: Bar fights, mostly. Smacked a few assholes who’ve heckled Barn’s movies while I’m trying to watch them.

Barney: That’s actually kind of sweet. I’ve only been in one bar fight, and Trid finished that guy off, but other than that, and a few stunts gone wrong, a few hits in boxing, not really.

Cate: (visibly uncomfortable) Not, uh, not physically.

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

Astrid: What the fuck? No.

14. What kind of animal are you?

Cate: I think I’m a meerkat.

[Astrid immediately raises her hands up to her chest like paws, perking up and looking around, imitating a meerkat. Cate smiles, and imitates the gesture.]

Barney: Yeah, I can see it. Trid’s that terribly taxidermied- ah, [he pulls out his phone, and taps away at the screen for a moment] cheetah! 

[Astrid shoves him, but both he and Cate are laughing.]

Astrid: You’re your asshole cat.

15. Name your worst habits?

Barney: Oh, Mickey actually hit the nail on the head when we did the Husband Tag on their channel the other day- follow Mickey, they’re sunteamick, all one word, on YouTube.

Cate: What did they say?

Barney: I’m too unperturbed.

Astrid: You’re too chill?

Barney: They said I’m a danger to myself because of it; got hit in the face at boxing a few months ago, broke my nose - not the first time, but still not pleasant - and went home instead of to the hospital because I didn’t think it was that bad. It wasn’t; I still should have gone to hospital but it wasn’t that bad. Much worse things could have happened, it’s just a nose.

Cate: You need to be more perturbed?

Barney: I need to be more perturbed.

Astrid: Being unperturbed isn’t exactly a habit.

Barney: I also leave the cap off the toothpaste after I use it.

Cate: That’s bad and you should feel bad.

Barney: I do, but I’ll never change. It perturbs Mickey.

Astrid: My worst habit is that - I’m a stunt driver sometimes, right, and I do mad dangerous stunts, and every time I get injured or have like, a near death experience, I don’t think like ‘oh maybe I should slow down’, I think ‘how long until I can get this fuckin’ cast off and get back behind the wheel?’.

Cate: You’re an adrenaline junkie.

Astrid: But only with dangerous car stunts.

Barney: You perturb me.

Astrid: Good.

Cate: I bite my nails.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Astrid: Physically or metaphorically?

Barney: You look up to everyone physically. 

[Note; Barney Clarke is 6′4. Astrid Taylor is 5′0.]

Cate: Our parents, obviously. They’re very successful, and have been through a lot. I grew up idolising them because they’re my parents, but as I came to know more about them as people, it was just natural to idolise them as people too.

Barney: Yeah, mum and dad, also Alec Baldwin.

Cate: Alec Baldwin, really? I wouldn’t have picked that.

Barney: Did you see him in Streetcar? [he hums appreciatively] That man’s career, his talent, all the stuff of legend. Meryl Streep, too.

Cate: Yeah no, I get that.

Astrid: Meryl Streep can get it.

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

Barney: Uh, I’m pan?

Cate: I’m probably on the asexual spectrum, I haven’t thought about it in a while. Not aromantic though, I guess I’d be bi or pan romantic? Queer. I’m queer.

Astrid: I’m- look at me, I’m a whole damn lesbian.

18. Do you go to school?

Astrid: I take a few classes here and there, but I actually didn’t finish high school, dropped out in Year 10 with my parent’s blessing and started working as a mechanic.

Cate: I haven’t studied in a while but I have a Masters in Public Relations.

Astrid: And she speaks like eight languages.

Cate: Five.

Astrid: Still, you’re a very impressive lady.

Cate: Thanks, Trid. 

Barney: I finished high school, but I’ve been working pretty steadily since then, don’t have a degree or anything.

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

Cate: I’ve got Claud, I almost married her dad, but... but that would have been bad for everyone. I’m not in a hurry to get married, let’s say.

Barney: Mickey and I don’t really want to be parents just yet, maybe one day, but we’re happy just spoiling Claud when we can.

Astrid: Oh, absolutely seconded; that kid is terrifyingly sweet for how spoiled she is.

Barney: She’s so great.

Cate: She really is.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

Astrid: I run a Barney stan account on Twitter.

Barney: Really?

Astrid: Fuck no, but he does actually have fans.

Cate: I guess we all have fans in our own way, but a lot of that, like minus Barney, who’s genuinely a star, is more because of mum and dad.

Astrid: Imagine if Claud grows up to be a Queen stan on tumblr.

Cate: That’s horrifying.

21. What are you most afraid of?

Cate: The concept of Claud finding smut about Joe.

Astrid: The concept that Cate’s found and read smut about Joe.

Barney: Why would she need it? Couldn’t she just-

Astrid: Maybe before they were together?

Cate: I hate you both.

Barney: Well, that’s not a ‘no I haven’t read smut about my boyfriend’. Also I’m afraid of submarines.

Astrid: Submarines?

Barney: The big hole in the front of them gives me anxiety.

22. What do you usually wear?

Barney: Astrid doesn’t get to answer this one because she doesn’t know what fashion is, and dresses like a single dad in the middle of his mid-life crisis.

[Astrid shrugs but keeps quiet; her shorts have oil stains on them.]

Barney: Good. I’m a fan of colourful button-downs and slacks.

Astrid: Gucci [pronounced Gucky, like ducky but with a G] button-downs, you mean. 

Barney: (quietly, but with a lot of feeling) I hate you.

[Cate is laughing too hard to answer. She wears a pastel sweater and well fitting jeans.]

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

Astrid: Kracken Rum.

Cate: That doesn’t count as food.

Astrid: I’m not changing my answer.

Cate: Fine. Original Glaze Krispy Cream Donuts.

Barney: Like the ones dad used to buy us when we’d visit him on tour in America?

Cate: Yeah! God they’re good.

Barney: I’m always tempted by whatever Mickey cooks, though they don’t do it a lot. I usually cook. I enjoy it a lot.

24. Am I annoying to you?

Cate: No, you’re fine.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Astrid: How many questions left?

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

[All three of them seem to become uncomfortable with the question.]

Cate: We- we’re comfortable. Our parents are Roger and Ash Taylor, we’ll always be comfortable.

27. How many friends do you have?

Cate: I’d say we’ve all got good circles - very different circles, sure-

Barney: If Astrid could stop collecting my pretty-boy costars that is.

Astrid: (smugly) It’s not my fault I’m good at making friends with your pretty-boy costars.

Barney: I’m glad people don’t realise we’re related, sometimes.

Astrid: Because I embarrass you?

Barney: (grumbling under his breath) Because everyone thinks you’re cooler than me.

Astrid: Men are so easy to get; look good, drive fast, and drink hard. Once they find out I’m gay and I can help wingman them really well, and maybe fix their cars, I’ve got ‘em, hook, line, and sinker.

Barney: That’s a bit of a generalisation, don’t you think?

Astrid: Fine; pretty boys in Hollywood are easy to get. 

Barney: That much I’ll give you.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

Cate: Actually, Barney, that apple pie you made for Easter was stunning, I was meaning to tell you.

Astrid: Easter was months ago.

Cate: I’ve been busy!

Barney: Thanks, I can send you the recipe if you like.

Cate: I’d never have the time to cook it.

Barney: I’ll make it for you again, then. 

29. Favorite drink?

Astrid: Kracken. Rum.

Barney: Peanut butter and chocolate milkshake.

Cate: (again, uncomfortable) Orange juice, I guess.

30. What’s your favorite place?

Barney: The kitchen of my LA apartment, with a roast dinner in the oven and Mickey sitting at the kitchen island talking to me about their day.

Cate: Awww!

Astrid: That’s really sweet, Barn.

Cate: Well mine’s probably being side of stage at one of dad’s concerts with Claud with me.

Astrid: (quiet) Mine’s gonna sound stupid.

Cate: No, it’s- well, maybe.

Astrid: It’s just- I don’t really have like a favourite favourite place, you know? I have like, moments with people that just stick with me. Like, I shared a cigarette with Ben [Hardy] during one of Cate’s gigs and I just remember talking and laughing and looking up at the stars, and I could hear my talented as all fuck sister playing inside, and I just- it was lovely. 

Cate: Trid...

Astrid: And you know, I do remember X-Men, you know? Because when you flew with that scream-thing you do in the movie? I fucking cried. I was so fucking proud, dude. My favourite place is in a cinema watching my little brother on the big screen, or at a bar watching my sister smash out some of the best rock and roll of our generation, or watching dad play, or seeing mum’s smile when she’s finally happy with an outfit- fuck, sorry I didn’t mean to get all sappy and shit.

Barney: No- Trid, no, don’t apologise.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

Astrid: Not in a long-term sense.

[Cate and Barney share a frown, before turning their identical ‘are you kidding me?’ looks on the interviewer.]

32. That was a stupid question…

Barney: Yeah, I’m married.

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

Cate: Ocean, always the ocean.

Barney: Yeah, I’m with you on that one.

Astrid: But the ocean has submarines in it.

Barney: Well I can’t see them so it’s fine.

Astrid: Fair cop, I also have to say ocean.

34. What’s your type?

Astrid: (teasingly) Cate likes cute, goofy actors with dumb perms and big grins and-

Cate: Astrid likes all girls ever, especially if they buy her a drink.

Astrid: Guilty as charged.

Barney: Two opposite ends of the spectrum? Every girl ever and Joe Mazzello specifically?

Cate: ... Pretty much.

35. Any fetishes?

[Astrid opens her mouth, but Cate smacks her hand over her mouth.]

Cate: That’s information I don’t need to know about my sister, thanks.

Barney: (grinning) Bondage.

Astrid: (muffled) Nice.

Cate: Christ.

Barney: That’s the tame shit, Catie.

Cate: You are my Baby Brother, shut your mouth. Ow!

[Astrid has bitten Cate’s hand. She removes her hand from Astrid’s mouth.]

Barney: I’m a married man!

Cate: I don’t want to know what you guys are into, and I don’t want you to know what I’m into, okay? We all know too much about our own family, I’d like some modicum of privacy.

Astrid: Yeah, after you see your mum bare it all in a photoshoot from the seventies with Bowie, life does get a little weird.

Barney: Oh, I forgot about that. Okay, moving on.

36. Camping or outdoors?

Astrid: Camper van.

Barney: I like hiking, but not really camping.

Cate: Claud camps in the backyard sometimes, it’s fun to join her, sometimes we stargaze.

Astrid: That’s a grossly cute image to end on.

Barney: Does Joe stargaze with you guys?

Cate: (blushing) Once or twice. Claud fell asleep on him last time. It was pretty cute.

Astrid: Oh that’s actually really cute.

Cate: Yeah, it was.

[migleefulmoments]

Wow, the tinhats are on fire today. Bitching about it being disrespectful to have their sexuality defined for them (hypocrite, much?), actually saying Darren STATED ON RECORD that he was gay (wut, then why does he need a beard?), reading the minds of Darren's parents, apparently have direct access to Darren, Mia and Ben's bank statements to know how much money they have. These Emmys have really given them a fright and rattled their cages LMFAO.

I literally just wrote a post tagging them about that ridiculous post calling out someone for saying she is straight when she considers herself pan.  Whatever dude.  Getting angry over an anon calling you straight is f’ing pathetic when 1. you are nobody and there is no reason for anybody to give a shit about your sexuality and 2. you aren’t actually talking about your sexuality-pan or otherwise- on your blog. I mean if you had a blog that was about your sexuality then your sexuality should be respected but bitching because someone didn’t check your bio to see if you felt the need to proclaim your sexuality before posting about CC is pathetic.  Franky, I don’t fucking care who anybody except my husband sleeps with. I certainly wouldn’t feel the need to check a Tumblr bio to ascertain the sexuality of the owner of a blog whose sole reason for existence is to discount everything Darren says about himself, his sexuality, his love and to criticize every move he makes while blaming it on an elusive and every-expanding contract, the evil players in Hollywood, his inept yet all-controlling manager and the evil beard he hates but who controls his life simply to torture him and “get promotion”.   Oh, and she also exists to cyberbully Mia, a woman that she is so jealous of she spends her days creating and perpetuating lies to make herself feel better about her pea green envy of Mia. 

Basically the Emmy’s showed the world that Darren is deeply in love with and ridiculously smitten with Mia Swier.  It is really hard to defend your mantra that Chris is “captain of this ship” and supporting Darren with all his might because they have a LOVE for the ages and are in the fight of their lives against the evil of Hollywood when Darren wears his heart on his sleeve and declares his love so freely.  So let’s dissect their lies:

1. Did Darren state on Record that he was gay?  Well if he did it was in one poorly recorded livestream while telling a joke and he was off camera. He HAS actually stated with his mouth, while on camera, in clear language, and in written article after article, that he is straight.  He has elaborated on what it is like to play gay while being straight and he has talked about representation over and over. He has also said- out of his mouth, while on camera- that he is engaged to and loves Mia.  Back to the declaration “I’m gay”. Jordan Roth was Parascoping from an event viewing (Emmys?) and a bunch of guys were standing around. A pic of Taylor Swift in a bathtub had just broke the internet and he made a joke about it. Darren off camera makes a joke like “I see that everyday” and then something garbled is said amongst the laughing and over talking. CCers claim Darren says “but I’m gay” which seems odd that he would declare such a thing in that context, on a livestream. It isn’t a natural response to having just said you see “that sort of thing all the time” and WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE OUT HIMSELF LIKE THAT ON a LIVESTREAM?  Also I have listened to that audio a hundred times and I don’t hear “I’m gay”.  Oh, and Jordan doesn’t respond in the way one would if a closeted friend just screwed up and outed themselves. CCers hang on to that moment like it is a defining CC moment while disregarding and denying all of the times Darren has said he is straight and all the behavior that proves he is with in fact, the fiancee of a woman named Mia

2. Darren’s parents. I posted earlier that I believe the pics are “proof” that Charles doesn’t love or respect Cerina or Darren- he’s walking in front of them after all. He’s also reading his phone- another sign that means he doesn’t actually love or respect those he is with. NOBODY walks in front of someone they love and respect and NOBODY ever looks at their phone when they are with someone they care about and a picture isn’t a snapshot of 0.01 seconds of someone’s life...it is an entire story for strangers to dissect. The pics are are a “stunt” and not at all indicative that the group is annoyed that Paps are literally walking backwards in front of them snapping pictures. Nope they are statements about the disgust the person walking in front carries for the other members of the group. At least THAT is how Tinhatters have seen it every time pap pics of Darren and Mia are released and he’s in front of her or on his phone so it must apply here as well, right? 

3. There was also an argument that Cerina and Charles are pulling stunts,  pretending to be  “one big happy family” because “they love their child so much they would do anything”.  That isn’t how parental love works. Bad behavior, lies, and deception are not OK simply because you do it out of love.  I love my children to death but I would never outright deceive the world by literally participating in “stunts” over and over where I was putting on a performance that was counter to everyone’s best interest. I wouldn’t consider it “supporting my child” by doing anything that kept them in the closet or forcing them to lie over and over or colluding with them to pretend they are engaged to someone they hated. Ethics and morals still matter and doing what is right matters and supporting the good things-not the bad things- in our kids’ lives matter. But the CCers pretend that love matters more than anything...as long as it is about love then nothing else matters.  That is the Disney-princess version of life and love.  It doesn’t hold up in reality. 

4. Speaking of Makes No Sense... The idea that every time Mia is talked about, mentioned, in a photo or standing near Darren he is promoting her. WTF? “Promotion”.  Mia doesn’t even have social media...she isn’t promoting herself. Darren isn’t promoting her.  Stop being so f’ing jealous of her CCers.  It doesn’t look good on you.  

5. Ben...oh lord Ben.  That whole trope is entirely made up.  Ben might have stayed with them long ago but I follow him in IG and he is rarely in LA and never for more than a few nights. There is nothing to suggest he is even staying with them anymore.  Mia and Ben are clearly friends and Mia and Darren both  openly share their lives with her friends. Mia wearing Ben’s hat means absolutely nothing and Ben’s arm around Mia at an IHeartRadio event means they are friends and Ben supporting the bar means it is a fun place to hang out and he likes them.  Nothing more.  The whole story about them in bed and taking pictures on Valentine’s day 1854 is so pathetic and contrived... I just can't. Every time the CCers stomp their feet and yell “Ben Ben Ben HOW CAN YOU IGNORE BEN” I think of Trump and his pathetic attempts to prove that Mueller is a witch hunt...or Tucker Carlson and Laura Ingraham claiming they aren’t racist. It is just as desperate. 

There are a lot of comments today- made by single woman- about what a healthy relationship should look like. There is nothing about Ben and Mia and Darren except desperate CCers trying discount Darren and Mia’s engagement.  Hell, maybe both Darren and Mia are sleeping with Ben....a throuple if you will.  It doesn’t matter if they are because IT ISN’T ANY OF OUR BUSINESS.  Having been in a relationship for *cough *cough 24+ years with the same man, I can say that there is nothing about Mia and Darren- including Ben- that makes me think it isn't a healthy relationship. Long term relationships are hard work..not the stuff of Disney princess love and CC BS.  If Ben stays with them when he is in town, who cares? He is in town so little. I can imagine staying in hotels gets old and staying with friends whose home is filled with music and singing has to be a joy. 

I agree with you, the Emmys rattled the CC family... big time.  It is hard to ignore the look Darren gave her as he declared her “my darling Mia” and said the most romantic thing I have heard a man use to proclaim to his love ...well, EVER. It is hard posting the same pics of Darren and Chris talking on stage over and over and over and over and pretend that means they are in love or that it wasn’t 10 years ago. They have sunk to arguing that when we watch Glee we aren’t seeing Klaine on screen but rather that is CrissColfer and they aren’t acting..they are in love in RL.  Um, dude NO, those were characters. They were reading lines written for them by writers. They were following stage direction and hitting marks.  After the Emmys, the CCers were left analyzing WHERE Darren and Mia’s noses touched because their kiss during the excitement of hearing his name announced wasn’t perfectly coordinated.  Darren’s aim was a little off -apparently- they bumped noses and that proves they don’t kiss often. I MEAN THAT IS IRREFUTABLE PROOF THEY ARE FAKE.  There was also a proclamation that clearly Mia practiced on objects and other people so she could grab Darren’s face and plant one on him after his name was announced.  Making that kind of shit up is the epitome of desperation. They are running scared. Their entire fandom is based on lies, anger, hate and criticizing people who don’t care about them. So when it falls apart, there is no reason to be a CC Family. Their international friendships which are glued together by their hatred and envy of Mia, ceases to have a reason to exist. When it all falls apart, they have no reason to be so sanctimonious or self righteous and they cease to be internet “famous” as they have labeled themselves.  If they aren’t fighting for Darren’s very soul, they don’t matter. That just sucks. Of course I watch them double down on “how will NEVER marry her” and I know they are setting themselves up for a big fall...it’s a train wreck happening in slow motion. Of course he will marry her. He has said so publicly several times. Their friends congratulated them and showered them with love-ya know, people who actually know them.  I know the CC family will have a few days of anger and then they will regroup and talk about how getting married to one’s beard is the new “breaking up with one’s beard” and that Chris was supporting Darren with everything he had. They will hate the beautiful wedding song Darren and performs for Mia and then they will claim it was really a secret message for them-the people who are really listening- to proclaim his undying love for Chris. Chris will continue to ignore Darren and while most of Hollywood sends Darren and Mia love, the CCers will claim that the ONLY reason Chris wouldn’t send a social media post to Darren is because he contractually can’t. That alone is telling...there is NO other reason he would ignore Darren... I mean, that is the only thing that makes sense, right? 

[challengerbmxmag]

Sam Waller Interview

Sam Waller co-runs, the UK based Central Library, “a shop in the North West of England that sells zines, DVDs and other interesting bits and pieces.” He’s also part of the current resurgence of quality independent BMX media with his Red Steps magazine. In addition to that he finds the time to contribute to Challenger with his quarterly column, ‘Notes From A Fancy Island’ and of course, ride. And, when you talk to Sam, you can tell that riding reigns supreme.

Sam and I email back and forth fairly often because of the column but also about other random stuff like old spots, concrete skateparks, music, etc. It’s fun to email with Sam so I figured it would also be fun to ask Sam some more in-depth questions. Hit the link below for the full interview.

All photos by Gaz Hunt. Thanks, Gaz!

I know you live in Manchester, England now but where did you grow up and what is your BMX origin story? I grew up in the complete middle of nowhere in a place called Colton in the south of the Lake District. Whilst the countryside in film and television is often shown as a tranquil, quaint place, the reality is a fair bit different, and Colton in particular seemed like a hotbed for strange stuff going on. Only recently a large farmhouse was burned down by a wild woman who owned loads of pigs. She was exiled from the county, but the pigs remained to cause havoc.

Anyway, my older brother has played guitar since he was six or seven, but as I was a useless at it and couldn’t get my hands to move properly, I felt obliged to find a similar all-encompassing past-time.

I was mad on Formula 1 racing for a while (thoughts go out to the Schumacher family), and I went to a karate lesson once (a hobby quickly scrapped after the whole hour was spent being taught how to bow honourably), but up until the age of 12 or 13 it just felt like I was dawdling about.

All of this changed when, for some reason I’m not entirely sure of, me and my friends decided to make some jumps and drops and stuff to ride on our mountain bikes in some woods near a dual carriageway.

One of my friends knew some older lads from nearby who had proper bikes and Little Devil hoodies, so I think they must have planted the seed of raditude with him, but I think at that time I was just happy to be out the house and not playing Tekken 2. We later found out that the woodland we’d chosen was a popular dogging site frequented by truck drivers (I'm not sure if 'dogging' exists in America - maybe look it up), and quickly moved our spades and everything into another forest. By that point the damage was done and my mind was snagged.

After a bit of bouncing about on a mountain bike, I then splashed out on a second hand Standard that someone had painted post-box red, affixed some stunt nubs and never looked back (or lookbacked, for that matter).

The nearby town of Ulverston had a pretty big riding and skating scene, but thinking now about us lot trying to lay down ‘street style’ in this small historic market town, we may as well have been the Jamaican bobsleigh team — the rough ledges were strictly for stalls, and the closest thing to a flatbank was a grass verge round the back of a Texaco garage.

What were some of your biggest inspirations as a kid and what about now? I always think about how the 16 year old me would probably make fun of some of the things I'm into now. Is that the case with you at all? Apart from the receding hairline and the slight increase in responsibilities, I think I’ve stayed pretty much exactly the same since I was 16. Back then I think my favourite film was probably Natural Born Killers, and my favourite album was maybe something like Bad Moon Rising by Sonic Youth. Whilst I’ve maybe expanded my interests a little, I’ve pretty much been in a rut since then.

I’m not into memes or internet humour in the slightest, but I remember someone once showing me a video of a wrestling fan in America crying and shouting, “It’s still real to me, dammit.” That’s how I feel about a lot of things I was into back then. A lot of people who I went to school with moved on from being into music and films and pissing around on bikes, whilst I’m still snagged on it all, listening to The Minutemen and wearing check shirts. It’s pretty stupid really.

What's The Fancy Island? Good question. Just next to Strangeways prison and only a mere stone’s throw from Manchester’s slick centre, lies a true rat-pit of questionable activity. I’ve seen loads of stuff happen here, such as an aggressive man chase a prostitute with a two-by-four and a creep lying in an alley trying to lure small boys into his lair.

In amongst all this, there’s loads of naff wholesale shops that sell everything from low-end Halloween costumes to fake Air Jordans made out of cardboard and fuzzy felt. All these shops have mad names like EEZZEE and Vibe Centre.

Getting to the point now, coming up with titles for things is pretty difficult, so a few years ago when I was cobbling together a zine, I nicked the name Urban Mist from one of these shops, and then, when I went to set up a Tumblr during the carefree pre-Instragram era, I nabbed ‘Fancy Island’ from a similar establishment.

I think Fancy Island has closed down now, but it’s no doubt been replaced with yet another shop with a daft name selling cheap batteries and t-shirts with swear words on the front.

Whilst I’m explaining names, I’ll state that Red Steps is a classic spot in Manchester that I ride past on my way to work every day. It boasts a rusty, needle-thin flatrail, a few small stair-sets (that are indeed red) and a large flow of gormless students to crash into. I’m not too sure why I named a magazine after it, but it just struck me as a funny name for a spot and I was struggling to think of anything else.

One thing I struggle with is balancing how to take BMX seriously while balancing a sense of humor about it as well; i.e. it's pretty goofy but is also this amazing vehicle for new experiences, ideas, and a pretty incredible community. Do you ever think about this? Like with most things in life (except crucial necessities like eating and breathing), riding bikes is pretty stupid and abstract if you try and think about it too hard. That said, I don’t see why bike riding should look goofy (apart from actual goofy-footed grinding - as a self-confessed goofy grinder myself I’ve got a lot of time for George D, Ralph and Dave McDermott) — riding is loads better than pretty much all other activities, but it’s constantly being made to look daft, when it could so easily look dope.

I think to stay juiced and not turn sour, you’ve got to completely ignore most things going on with riding and stick firmly to the bits that you like. I treat riding like music or films or anything else. In the same way I don’t go to the cinema to watch big summer blockbusters, I don’t spend my free time watching Corey Martinez edits or endless hours of footage from some zany mega-comp.

I’m a simple man. As far as riding is concerned, I like smith grinds, bottles of Heineken, Galaxy chocolate, black and white photos, sitting on benches and talking complete nonsense. The rest of it is irrelevant to me.

I constantly hear/read people complain about the lack of BMX magazines but there's so much cool stuff being printed right now. We've discussed this in email a bit but it seems weird that people are complaining. It's almost like people just have an idea of what they think a magazine should be and if it doesn't have look or read a certain way they are just confused. How do you feel about all of this? A solid group of people do buy things and support these independent projects and whatnot, but I think it’ll take a while for the loud-mouthed Instagram warlords to come to terms with the fact that the new magazines around might have different names to the ones they used to subscribe to 15 years ago. I suppose it’s maybe easier to talk about the lack of magazines out there than actually go to the effort of seeking them out, but having said that, it’s not exactly hard to find stuff these days.

I remember years ago hunting down anything beyond Dig or Ride was an absolute hassle involving a lot of e-mail mither and blind faith - but now with yourself, Berks St. and 90East stocking interesting stuff in America, me and Clarky doing Central Library over here and the newly formulated Wiretap down under, it’s easier than ever for anyone to get their hands on zines and DVDs and all that.

The new stuff that’s coming out now is ten times better than Dig or Ride ever were anyway. Endless contest reports and dull bike checks have fallen by the wayside, and I haven’t seen a photo of Jimmy Levan’s zebra-print leggings in years. Things are really looking up.

What do you do for work? Thoughts on pursuing money via BMX and also what's the best job you've ever had? By day I work in an office writing stuff for a clothes shop. As you can imagine, trying to come up with an interesting way to talk about the 659th blue shirt you’ve seen this week can get a bit tough, but I can’t complain too much really. The office is fairly warm and there’s a kettle in the kitchen.

As for pursuing ‘serious wonga’ via riding, I’m one step ahead of you. Central Library has just received big investment from Duncan Bannatyne and Deborah Meaden (of Dragon’s Den fame), meaning we’re finally able to stock all those bizarre Caramac-coloured tyres that real bike shops seem to stock. We’re also expanding our print line to offer crime fiction and the Goosebumps novels. My main aim in life is to become one of those creepy industry characters who spends their time sniffing around young and naïve talent in the hopes of flogging a few ‘dad caps’.

My finest job was probably working for my dad in the family trade of dry stone walling (which explains my surname). I’m not sure if dry stone walls exist in America, but they’re those fairly humble looking stone walls you see dividing up the fields and forests around the English countryside.

Anyway, building them isn’t too bad as far as manual labour goes. When it’s raining and you’re miles up some hill wallowing in the mud lugging big stones around with nothing more for lunch than a chicken and mushroom Pot Noodle and a Penguin biscuit, then it’s a little miserable – but on a good day when the sun is shining and you’re working with ‘good stone’, it’s hard to beat.

The best days were when my dad would fall asleep just a few minutes before the end of the lunch hour, basically extending the break for at least another 45 minutes. Thinking about this job now, I’m not sure why I ever gave it up.

Do you have any other hobbies besides riding? Yeah, but I’d say the lines were pretty blurred. This is maybe a pretty boring answer, but I suppose riding lends itself to other hobbies pretty well. I might be wrong, but I don’t think keen swimmers or budding javelin-throwers get into photography or making videos in quite the same way. It’s sort of like the ‘pillars of hip-hop’ or something – riding, taking pictures, messing round with video stuff and generally snooping around all fits together nicely (or at least it does in my peppered mind).

It’s not like I’m slipping on my Etnies t-shirt for my weekly two hour power sesh and then the next night I’m wearing some short-shorts down at the climbing wall. Even when I’m on holiday with my wife, I’m still just snooping around the same way - we’re not buying tickets for some naff rollercoaster or dining out at exclusive restaurants with Abe Froman.

Are you able to take time off of riding and not feel like you're missing out or feel guilty? I have one friend who really goes in on the guilt tripping if I don't ride. Related: You said you like sitting on benches. Can you do that on a nice day? At the age of 28, I’d like to feel like I can just about deal with a few missed sessions. Obviously I still need a comprehensive run down of spots seshed and feats accomplished when I’m away, but it’d be mad if I was out all the time. The human body can’t handle that much raditude.

Fear of things going un-photographed does creep in sometimes, but Clarky will have filmed it anyway, and Gaz and Wozzy are better photographers than me, so if they’re about then hopefully someone caught the action.

Moving onto the subject of benches, these babies really come into play during my dinner break at work. I get on fine with everyone there, but when the clock strikes twelve I’m not going to be sat in the office spilling reheated chilli over my keyboard… I’m straight out into the city centre on full sit-off mode – hopefully getting into some daft conversation with one of Manchester’s many vagabonds.

A few months ago I was sat in town when I was approached by a fairly scruffy gentleman who was bleeding loads from his forehead after someone kneed him in the skull. The rest of my lunch break was spent trying to sort him out a bit. One meal deal, some wet wipes and a pack of king-skins later, he seemed alright. You don’t get these hijinks sat inside all day.  

I was just thumbing through the new Red Steps (nice job) and I just realized how much I enjoy your interviews -- what is it that you like about interviews? Not trying to stroke the ego here but you are really good at it... Cheers. Any ego strokes are much appreciated. This maybe sounds a bit daft, but I want to know everything. This is probably evident to the people who know me, but I’m a complete mither, completely hassling everyone with questions all the time.

This pesky nature extends into everything, meaning that I spend a lot of time reading a lot of interviews about the things that I’m into. I buy a lot of old copies of magazines like Wire, Ray Gun and Sidewalk on eBay, and even though the interviews contained within those pages might have been conducted in the corner of a pub maybe 25 years ago, they’re still worth reading today.

A proper interview with a little intro and some photos laid out nicely on a page… it’s mint – it’s a finished thing – sort of like a well-edited video or something. I know a lot of people are into ‘podcasts’ these days, and that’s fair enough, but to me – they’re not complete enough. I don’t want to hear people say ‘um’ and ‘err’ all the time, and I want something sick to look at (and by that, I don’t mean a load of pundits sat around a table with headphones on).  

I’m going to rattle on here whilst I’ve got the chance. Anyone reading this who gets the opportunity to answer questions for an interview, a ‘bike check’ or anything else…don’t just write a lazy sentence for each answer – go mad. Tell some funny stories. Or if you’ve got nothing to say, just make something up. No one cares about how responsive your headtube angle is or how you ‘usually just cut the bars down’. This could be your only chance to air your thoughts into the wider world, and you’re going on about what PSI you put in your tyres? COME ON PLEASE TRY HARDER YOU BORING GIMPS.

(above) Spread from Sam’s zine, Latvia Photos. (below) Cover of Sam’s zine, Around Town.

You also make photo zines/books not related to riding. Do you have any high art aspirations with this stuff? No real aspirations I’m afraid. Wine gives me bad heartburn, so I generally try and swerve anything resembling a gallery opening schmooze-off. As I was sort of saying before, making photo zines is just an extension of everything else. I like taking photographs, so it makes sense to put them together. It’s all pretty small-time really – it’s not like I’m getting thousands printed.

To be honest, it’s all a complete faff that I could easily avoid by not bothering and just sitting around watching American power-dramas, but it’s good to have stuff to look back on – even if it’s just a 40 page zine that nine people will see.

Crouching under a tattered old curtain processing rolls of film every night whilst being mithered by my cat isn’t particularly glamorous and I’d imagine there are probably easier ways to get cosy with the artistic elite.

What's your favorite slang word? Going back to my walling days, my dad uses some pretty intriguing slang terms. Unlike inner-city slang, which will usually be documented in music or useless BBC3 comedies, these more rustic words don’t get much recognition. I don't use these terms myself, but I certainly respect them. Here’s a few choice cuts…

“A few skins on the job” – a large workforce “Keitel” – a fairly humble work-jacket “Bait” – lunch “Bray it – hit it “Kessen” – when an unclipped sheep falls over onto its back and can’t get up due to its weight. This happens more often than you’d think.

You can buy scoop up a copy of Sam’s magazine, Red Steps, in the Challenger web shop here, look at the online shop, The Central Library, that Sam runs with Clarky here, and check out some of his other photo zines/books here.