#oversharing station time i guess

[agendratum]

watching markiplier while sick just like many many years ago. nostalgia ~

that's actually how i started watching him back then. i learned about him when 1st fnaf came out, but it wasn't until later that fall when i got sick and was looking for something chill to watch, and i remembered him and watched that game called knock knock where he made up a song cause the character's walk cycle was funny

[raineandsky]

A Date in Exchange

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

It’s been several days of not seeing the villain—they’re not even in the streets anymore. It’s getting close to the point in the week where they show up on the hero’s doorstep with that stupid flurry of flowers and that even stupider scowl that keeps getting darker with each week, but their silence is making the hero think they might skip out on their little date night for the first time.

They know their parents would worry if they suddenly went radio silent on their supposed partner. That’s what this feeling is. They’re not concerned for the villain. They just have a lot riding on them showing up. That’s all.

Their concern for the villain’s absence manifests into a short text message, one of many sent over the past few days.

I was hoping we could talk about things. It’s our usual night - I’ll get some wine and we can keep it casual?

The sound of their phone pinging 15 minutes later almost stops their heart, and they practically vault over their table to snatch their phone up.

I wanted to talk anyway. I’ll be there at my usual time

It’s the most grammatically correct message the villain’s ever sent, and it makes the hero’s insides twist nervously. They've never used capitalisation in their life. Or punctuation. They want to talk.

That’s not what matters though, the hero tells themself. They’re coming. I can fix things.

Things could be shit with the villain for all they care. This is only because of their parents. Nothing else.

The hero doesn’t set up some random activity like they usually do. They don’t want their nemesis to think that they’re trying to pretend everything is fine. They set an empty vase on the table, throw a lasagne in the oven just in case, and simply opt to wait.

The sound of their own doorbell ringing is as relieving as it is nauseating. The villain is on their doorstep, of course, and they don’t even try to offer the hero a smile. They somehow get more bothered when the door opens, if anything.

“Hey,” the hero opens softly. They step back to let the villain in, but they stay rooted to their spot outside.

“I’m not staying long,” the villain tells them flatly, and the hero can feel that twist again. “I’m just here to say something.”

“Surely you can say it out of the cold.”

The villain heaves a deep breath, their sigh puffing in a cloud in front of their face. “I’m calling it off.”

The hero can’t define what feeling is gnawing at them at the news. Betrayal? Annoyance? Heartbreak? “Is… is this because of my parents?”

The villain shrugs half-heartedly. “I think what your mother said put some stuff into perspective about what we’re doing. I can’t marry you because she said so, jesus.”

“You can ignore her,” the hero says instantly. “She doesn’t understand.”

“Exactly. How long are you expecting me to lie about this, [Hero]?” The villain’s expression turns pissed. “Do we have a beautiful wedding, have kids, die together? Where’s the line?”

They’ve clearly been thinking about this a lot. No wonder they disappeared for so long. “She can’t make us get married, [Villain]. That doesn’t have to happen.”

“Good, because there’s no way in hell I would marry you like this.”

Something in that hurts, and the hero can’t quite tell why. “Can you just come in? I put a lasagne on and I don’t want to waste it.”

They’re not sure why they’re so set on saving this, but the villain looks past them and into the comfortable warmth, and the slightly defeated nod they give the hero makes their heart sing with hope.

The villain makes an attempt to settle into the sofa as the hero goes about taking the lasagne out of the oven. It’s a little burnt—they timed it a bit too well with the villain’s arrival. The edges are crisp but it’s still edible, and they carefully dollop it onto a pair of plates.

“I get that you don’t want to marry me, and I’m not asking you to.” The hero slides a plate in front of the villain, who doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite. “Don’t let my mother put you off.”

“Why are you so set on me doing this?” The question would be cold if it wasn’t for the slight knit in the villain’s eyebrows. “Why couldn’t you have asked anyone else?”

They wish they knew—they’re sure their parents would like any other so-called partner they could bring home. It would feel wrong doing it with anyone else, though. It’s easier to shrug it off when it’s with someone you hate, right?

They let their gaze rest on the villain, though, their eyes searching the hero’s for a semblance of an answer, their lips pulled into a slightly concerned frown, and for god’s sake they’re still stunning. It’s unfair. Things are starting to make sense alarmingly fast, sitting there staring at their fake lover, and they decide that they need to stop thinking right now.

“I don’t know.” They get to their feet so they can find an excuse to look elsewhere, beelining for the alcohol cupboard. “Look, it’s my father’s birthday this weekend, and I don’t want to ruin it with bad news. Can you hold off until then?”

“Please don’t make me actually pretend to be in a relationship with you in front of other people again.”

The hero grimaces, and the villain goes through the five stages of grief based on their expression alone. “He invited you.”

“I hate you and your parents,” the villain tells them with a scowl.

“So you’ll come?” the hero asks hopefully. A wine bottle pops open in their hand, and the villain doesn’t complain.

They scowl again, and it’s infuriating that they look so good doing it. “Last time ever. After that we stop lying and it’s over.”

The idea of this being a cold memory in less than a week hurts more than it should. The hero misses five minutes ago when they couldn’t figure out why. “Promise.”

(Final part!)

[mindfulcuppa]

Passed Impressions; Threads Sewn with Word and Image

2 >Tokyo >Helsinki >Lisbon >Waking Life

Tokyo

Japan air flew me like a special guest to Tokyo, a delightful transportation in the air. When I arrived, I had no real idea of how to get around, nor had I any Japanese in the lexicon (if only) - so anything like beer and soba noodles would grasp towards comfort.

Call me cringe, but there was something magical about eating Japanese food in Japan. Though I did only had a brief gesture, a taste or morsel if you will, it encouraged a more detailed dive into food there. Hiromi had told me about a miniature car racetrack that they had inside of the airport, but unfortunately it wasn’t open late, so instead I sat on the Haneda observation deck in the rain and watched the planes takeoff. In the gate there were a deluge of people waiting to board to Singapore too, I sat with a family while their kids made up games to play with their temporary terminal friends. “I like to learn but I don’t like school, I like to read but I don’t like books,” one of them riddled. I sipped on a Japanese electrolyte drink and smiled at them as they laughed. 

Helsinki

Helsinki is a strange aura, in the airport at least… people at customs are very nice and all have healthy silver blonde hair. I am looking around a while, finally settling at a bar on the observation deck; I talk with the man at the bar, estimating an expensive cocktail about to be billed. Aspiring for a Finnish Vodka martini, and settling for a gin & tonic with Juniper berries, the bartender and I exchange some broken English pleasantries before I sit down and draw.

Lisbon

After about one and a half days of transit, the eventual arrival to destino Lisboa was a relief. I would walk to the bustling metro station conveniently placed 100 metres or so from the airport and try to find myself a ticket. There was a palpable stickiness to the air underground, and feeling the atmosphere inside the train grew a distant unknown. Embarrassingly I had forgotten the PIN number on the debit card I have had for half a decade, which only left me with about €50 until further notice. I would buy anything I could online, guessing items from the images with the websites all in Portuguese… Before I reached the hostel, four men on the street offered to sell me weed and cocaine (sure it was…). Oversharing, I explained that even if I wanted to, I only had €20 in cash to last me for some days and I had no access to other money. Also a heavy bag on my shoulders and way finding eyes. 

Having passed metrics of time and space now, eaten a yummy tomato and cheese baguette and 2 pastel de nata, and snapped images of old fountains - I was tired. I think I stepped over 20,000 this day and finally made it to the ‘Good Night’ hostel (phew). I listened to the sounds of the accordion on the cobblestone street from the balcony, it felt like a shift in time. 

Waking Life

In the morning, I would arrange to meet two people from the meta verse to share a car out to a 6 day festival in the Portuguese countryside (Crato). Miguel from Porto, Harry from Glasgow, and myself found each other at the aeroporto before getting picked up in an Uber, and taken for a loooong drive in context. I think it was about 200km, with 20km of that being unsealed and dust-cloud birthing abaft our bumper. 

The festival was lush (to put it lightly), and impressed with the natural mounded structures, bamboo assemblage, stage designs, and the lake (c/o mother nature, not WL of course…). There were bridges built, pontoon ferries across the lake (and if you’re lucky, with little chaperone children helpers), nests, treehouses, safe spaces, shade structures, a cinema, and regenerative forests. If one was to dream, i’m sure they would find some common ground with this festival. 

Personally, I spent lots of time reading, swimming, dancing, and listening. Some musical highlights were Donna Leake, ADAB, Cosmo Sofi, Greg Foat, Baba Sissoko & Jean-Philippe Rykiel, Daphni, ALABASTER DEPLUME, Mark Ernestus Ndagga Rhythm Force, Zozo, Palms Trax, Aleksi Perälä, and Dele Sosimi Afrobeat Orchestra. The music didn’t stop the whole time, so there was lots that missed too.

Flying a kite really high next to the music at the Praia stage provided a moment of bliss, watching others get lost in the hypnotic floating in the sky, the wavering dance, it made others smile which made me happy. There was a lot of gentle motion throughout the week; beauty in stillness, and comparative liberation through movement. Learning from each other was another noticeable effort, space being allocated to apuoro - where generous a exchange of lessons culminated around topics of dream and sensation. Specifically I enjoyed learning about reversing and remembering dreams, which has sent me on a path since. 

Another special moment was in approach of the Má Estrela set (contemporary Portuguese experimental jazz{?}). The curiosity was well and truly high in the soundcheck, in fact, only few could distinguish what was going on. I sat next to this man as he rolled some sort of smoke, he was British and we had polite conversation. On my other shoulder was a mademoiselle whom seemed to know about the band upcoming. “I’m not sure if you’ll like it…” she said throwing caution, I said “We’ll see” and we sat alone but together in observation and listening. Experiencing waves of synthesis, saxophone, drone, and erratic drums in very different ways I predict, we tilted our heads with different signatures. The British man could not handle the jazz, and left before the first song would conclude. Following the set, it seemed like there was the world to talk about with my neighbour, so we stayed in each others space together for some moments to unfold our introspections.

Enjoy the images, and a couple field recordings I snapped along the way of some of the music. I appreciate you reading these memories. 

[mosnet]

they listen to music together btw. neither of them get to listen to it much (angel cuz he's not really allowed to Own things like music or do anything with his time that's not expressly permitted - so his whole music knowledge is the stuff that people play in the backgrounds at stores and restaurants - aki cuz so many of his favorites hurt to listen to, the people he enjoyed it the most with aren't there anymore, so he lets his cds and cassettes gather dust and has his radio tuned to the news station all the time)

so when they meet and aki mentions offhand that he used to listen to one of those Restaurant Songs all the time (and it's kind of a downer to hear it again, but it's an asshole move to go to the manager and ask them to change the station just because it makes him sad) - and angel actually pays attention to the song for a bit and goes "is their other stuff any good?" and aki goes "yeah-" (they had this entire album, actually, aki knows the lyrics to all the songs by heart even when he's tried to forget them) and then shrugs and goes "well, i guess so."

and maybe that's it for a while but something tugs at the back of angel's brain and makes him tell aki to show him more of that band - he gets the name wrong but aki knows who he's talking about. and something tugs at the back of aki's brain and makes him go yeah, sure, and he goes and buys a reissue of it. maybe he digs out his old walkman and a pair of earbuds and brings it to work with him so they can listen on their lunch break or maybe angel (gets clearance to? doesn't get clearance to but goes anyway?) comes home with aki to listen on his stereo. they sit and listen to it all the way through and at the end they're both like Oh in different but equally important unexpected ways. aki's it didn't feel like pulling teeth--oh god why didn't it feel like pulling teeth? - angel's it felt like when someone overshares about their shitty life but not in a bad way--oh god why am i not annoyed by this?

angel's surprised when he says "that was nice." aki's surprised when he replies "wasn't it?"

[pokemon-teacology]

Okay enough oversharing form my childhood!!!! I brought Chomp out to watch the opening ceremony, which was amazing. Chairman rose still makes me feel... off... I get the feeling even more in person.

H o w e v e r!!! We saw the kiddos! They looked so confident out there, even Victor! They looked like they felt like they belonged there, which I'm glad for. And their uniforms! They looked like professionals, I'm so happy for them.

I met them outside the stadium afterwards and gave them all a big hug, and then I tried to treat them to some dinner, but Sonia and Leon showed up, and guess who insisted on paying,,,

Which I suppose is no skin off my nose, it means I was able to buy them something to head off with. I know they won't need them for a while, but I got them each a revive and a full restore. I know their Pokémon are going to get so so strong, and there will probably be a moment where a potion just won't cut it, so it's kind of a failsafe in case something goes wrong later down the line. I dunno. Maybe that's silly.

Victor did cry over it though so I think it was an okay parting gift??? I let them know I'm only a phone call away and that I'll fly over from paldea to kick the ass of anyone who tries to mess with them. Gloria insisted she didn't need any protecting, but Im here anyway to support her, so she's gonna have to deal with that.

...I'll admit that it was also nice to get to speak with my old friends again, too. Sonia's off on a journey to figure out the history of Galar, the real one. Which sounds really fascinating. We had a good, long discussion about the study schemes in paldea and how it's different to here, and we chatted about my actual course. It sucks that our other friend couldn't be here, but she's a cool college professional, so she had stuff to do today.

I also chatted to them about the Flambé and Ralter situation, and Sonia laughed at me. Which, fair. She gave me a few ideas to work with, too, and helped me refine some of the ones I already had. She's a queen, I appreciate her so much (⁠T⁠vT⁠)

Anyway, lunch finished, we saw the kids off with a big hug on my part for each of them, plus another threat of massacre to anyone that dares to pick on them, and off they went. It was... bittersweet. Since this was probably the last time I'll see any of them until either some time in November or Christmas time. I'm back for a month, then, and the league season takes a break until march for training time and so that the roads aren't unsafe for competitors to travel and camp on, so I'll have plenty of time to ask them about their Pokémon and freak out over how well they'll have definitely done in the meantime.

I'm on the train home now, having separated from the other two. They insisted on walking me down to the train station (or, rather, Sonia did, and Leon followed so he didn't get lost), and they saw me off with a hug, which was... nice. It felt nice to feel close to them again. Even if it was only briefly.

I also discovered that the muscles that Leon now has are definitely not for show, I'm pretty sure he dislocated one of my ribs with his enthusiasm, but I can't say I don't appreciate it.

Anyway, train time. None of my Pokémon are out, since I only brought Chomp with me today. I didn't want the others to have to spend the day in their balls if I was just going to be sitting in a stadium.

[bazwillendinflames]

Second Chances (Dylan/Ryan)

When Dylan accidentally overshares his meet cute on his college radio show, the listeners are suddenly invested in his love life. Meanwhile, Ryan is intrigued by his not-so-secret admirer.

When a second chance meeting occurs, will they be able to work it out?

Read on Ao3

Word count: 2423

“I’d take you a lot more seriously if you didn’t fall in love with a hot stranger every week.” 

“Um rude.” It had been at least two weeks since Dylan had last shared his romantic woes with Kaitlyn. “Anyway this wasn’t any hot stranger. He was the one, I could tell.” 

“Oh boy,” Kaitlyn said, taking a long, noisy sip of her iced coffee. “Did you actually talk to this mystery stranger? Or did you just stare like a creep whilst planning your wedding?” 

“Yeah. I mean, words were exchanged. And no one talks on the subway!” Dylan found himself smiling again. Sue him, he was a hopeless romantic. 

“Holy shit. That’s a big step for you.” Kaitlyn seemed genuinely proud of him, which hurt more than her usual sarcasm. “Fine. Tell me about this guy.” 

That was all the encouragement that Dylan needed. He leaned forward. “So, we’re on the train and it comes to a stop with a big screech. And the train announcement says some crackly garbage. And I go ‘anyone able to translate?’” 

“Hilarious,” Kaitlyn said dryly. 

Dylan waved a hand in her direction. “Shush. Let me finish. And then this guy sitting on the other side of the carriage laughs. He laughs at my joke and we make some pretty intense eye contact.” 

“Oh boy.” 

“By the way, this guy, absolutely gorgeous. We’re talking tall, dark and handsome. We’re talking cool punk vibes. He was even wearing a Cult Damage shirt. Hello, hot and good taste in music. We were meant to be.” 

“That’s it?” Kaitlyn asked. “Someone laughed at your lame joke.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “No. He also said ‘bad day to forget my earbuds’. And then the train started up again.” 

“And now he’s the one?” Kaitlyn asked. “Dude, no.” 

“You mock me now, but…” Dylan stopped half way through his sentence, noticing the red on air sign. “Oh fuck.” 

“What?” Kaitlyn asked. She looked over at the sign too. “Uh, how long has that been on?” 

Dylan had already pressed the nearest button and the next queued up Arctic Monkeys song played. Double checking the mic was actually off this time, he ripped off his headphones and buried his head in his hands. 

“I’m a fucking idiot.” 

“No,” Kaitlyn said. She patted his back. “It was just a little mistake. Look, it’s live college radio, how many people will have actually heard… all that?” 

“I quit.” 

“No you don’t,” Kaitlyn said. “Put your headphones back on, the song is almost over.” 

Dylan pulled himself together, taking a deep breath and getting back into the mindset of funny radio host Dylan. 

“Sorry about that guys,” Kaitlyn said smoothly, “just a few technical problems. But next up we’ll be playing ‘guess that professor’ so get ready…” 

 “So, I’ve heard you are quite the heartbreaker.” Laura grinned at him. “One look and you have them enamoured.” 

She had heard the radio thing too then. “It might not have been me he was talking about.” 

“We both know that it totally was,” Laura said. “It’s fine, I’ll keep you anonymous. Take it as a compliment. You have a secret admirer.” 

“Who does?” Max joined them a moment later, dropping a pile of books on the table with a thud. “Should I be jealous, hun?” 

“You haven’t heard? Ryan has a secret admirer.” 

“It’s not exactly a secret. He said it on the radio and everyone knows who runs the station. It’s on the school website.” 

“Oh wait, you’re the stranger on the train that Dylan Lenivy is in love with?” Max asked. “Good for you dude.” 

“Maybe you should call in?” Laura suggested. 

Even the idea left him modified. “Absolutely not.” 

She smiled. “I’m just teasing.” 

“Anyway, it’s not like he’s not in love with me,” Ryan said. He picked at the black nail varnish on his fingers. He would have brought his fidget cube if he knew she’d bring it up. “It was more of a funny story, ‘oh I’m so hopeless, I’m thinking about someone I met once’ thing.” 

“Take it as a compliment,” Max said, “of anyone he could have chosen to gush about on the radio, he chose you.”

“It’s probably worse for him,” Laura added, “no one has figured it out but us.” “How did you figure it out?” Ryan asked. 

“The band he mentioned. You’re probably the only two people our age who listen to your indie 70s rock.” 

“Hey, for that reason alone, you’re probably soulmates,” Max joked. “I’m going to grab a coffee, you guys want one?” 

Ryan already had one but Laura followed Max up to the counter, the two of them laughing together at something. They made the high school sweetheart thing look easy. It did leave him feeling a little like a third wheel. 

As he waited alone, he found himself thinking back to the radio show. Beyond it being embarrassing to be called out like that, even accidentally, he was intrigued. 

Ryan remembered the moment. He had been trying to figure out the tattoo on his arm, left with nothing to do but people watch with his headphones back at his dorm. He’d thought he been caught out staring, but the cute stranger had smiled at him and made a dumb joke. Maybe Ryan would have said something if he had connected the moment to the same radio station he liked listening to during his morning shifts. He always liked the music they played. 

Not that it would have gone well. He wasn’t good at talking to people. Maybe Dylan would have told the story with the added twist of him ruining any allure with his awkwardness. 

Ryan doubted it, Dylan always seemed so nice. Not that he actually knew him beyond hearing his show. But maybe he wanted to. 

Not that he’d admit it to Laura. 

  Dylan’s little college radio project had started when he was a freshman. He’d always like technical stuff and the idea of getting paid to goof around for a few hours every morning had seemed fun. Kaitlyn had been running it for the last two years and had given a surprisingly intense interview before announcing he started the next day. The forced proximity of having to spend four hours a day had made them fast friends. 

He knew they had some regular listeners, half of his conversations at parties started with ‘aren't you that radio guy’ or ‘I know your voice’. Kaitlyn basically bullied all their friends into tuning in at least once a week and occasionally joining them. 

But now it seemed like half of campus had listened to his embarrassing rant about his crush. Emma had started calling him Romeo and it had quickly caught on. And once Kaitlyn had used the same corny nickname on air, that’s all he was known for. 

Even Mr H, the radio manager, had picked it up. 

“Remember what I said about swearing on air Romeo.” 

So literally everyone knew. 

“I brought you a coffee.” Kaitlyn practically shoved the cup at him. “It’s got oat milk.” 

“You’re being nice to me,” Dylan noted suspiciously. “Why are you being nice to me?” 

“Because it sucks to wake up at six in the morning.” Kaitlyn sipped her own coffee. “Also, sorry about not being supportive.” 

“It’s fine. I’m sure all the teasing will pass.” Dylan could only hope. “I mean it’s good for ratings right?” 

“Yeah. I keep getting suggestions to record our programme. I guess people are invested.” 

“Well I don’t have updates,” he said. His subway experience had been hot stranger free, which was probably for the best. 

“Best not to encourage it,” Kaitlyn agreed. “Come one, we start in ten, we better pick the songs. No more Mitski though.”

“She’s my comfort listening,” Dylan said. 

“One song,” Kaitlyn agreed, “and that’s only because I feel sorry for you.” 

“I’ll take it.” 

  Ryan spent most of his shifts with one earbud in, stacking books at the campus bookstore whilst a steady mix of podcasts, music and radio played. Although the latter was a new addition to his routine. 

Ryan kept listening to the station. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for - he hadn’t seen Dylan again, even though he was trying to be more alert on the subway. He had been cataloguing all the music mostly, Max’s mention of musical soulmates in mind. 

From their banter, he could usually guess who picked which song. Kaitlyn seemed to like more pop music - she always played at least one Taylor Swift song, along with a rotation of other upbeat music. Dylan was into more indie bands. He had recognised Ryan’s Cult Damage shirt but as far as Ryan could tell, he hadn’t actually played any of their songs. Maybe obscure 70s grunge didn’t fit with the vibe of Walking On Sunshine. 

Dylan wasn’t on air today though. Kaitlyn was joined by Jacob, who had hosted last year. The two of them were making some inside joke about an old cereal that Ryan had never heard of. Whatever the punchline was, he missed completely, because he just realised why Dylan wasn’t on air. 

He was in the book shop. Ryan hid behind a shelf, which wasn’t very professional of him, but helped with his suddenly racing heart. He pulled out his earbud and tucked it into his shirt. He took a steadying breath. He considered hiding in the back and calling Laura, but Dylan had already stepped into the store and seen him. 

Judging by the carefully masked expression he had, Ryan would bet Dylan was banking on him either not remembering him from the subway or having heard the radio, or the rumours around it. Unfortunately for Dylan, Ryan remembered both incidents well. 

“Hi, can I help you find anything?” He asked. He shoved the books he was meant to be putting out onto the nearest shelf. 

“Um…” Dylan dragged it out for a little too long. “Sciences?” 

“It’s on the shelf behind you,” Ryan said. As soon as Dylan turned around, he sped walked away and stood behind the counter, tapping his nails against the plastic table. 

Whilst Dylan was browsing the books, or at least pretending to, Ryan took out his phone and texted Laura.

 I can’t talk right now but Dylan Lenivy is in the store

I might be panicking 

Ok, just remember to breathe

It’s probably more awkward for him than you 

Max says play dumb 

I don’t know

I feel pretty awkward (unsent)

 “Hey.” 

Ryan jumped, almost dropping his phone in the process. He shoved it under a pile of loose postcards and hoped Dylan wasn’t the nosey type. “Hey. Did you find everything?” 

“Yeah.” He seemed grateful for the small talk. 

Ryan ran through his books, both on some kind of physics that was so complicated he wouldn’t be able to decode the title. He went through the process of ringing him up on autopilot. There was a long pause as the till slowly spat out his receipt. 

“I heard you talk about me,” Ryan blurted out. 

Dylan went pink in the face. “Oh fuck me.” 

“Um. It was flattering I guess.” The receipt had stopped half way and Ryan punched the top of the till to get it going. “My friends keep calling you my secret admirer.” 

“It’s not exactly a secret,” Dylan replied. 

“Yeah. That’s what I said.” Ryan finally freed the receipt. “I like your taste in music.” 

“Oh thanks.” Dylan crumpled the receipt into a ball and shoved it and the books into his backpack. “I’m sorry. About objectifying you on live radio. It was an accident and like Kaitlyn said, I’m kinda a hopeless romantic. Emphasis on the hopeless part.” 

“I’m pretty hopeless myself,” Ryan said. “I didn’t mean to blurt out the whole thing earlier.” 

“It’s fine. I’m the idiot who screwed up in the first place.” Dylan finally zipped up his bag. “Okay goodbye forever.” 

“Wait,” Ryan said, before his brain could catch up. “I like you too. I mean I like your show. It’s funny. You’re funny.” 

Dylan had gone past pink and was now very red. Ryan was certain he wasn’t helping. “Thanks. I’m pretty good at putting on funny Dylan. For the show. Obviously in real life I’m a hot mess.” 

“I like hot mess Dylan,” Ryan said. 

“It’s just Dylan Dylan,” he replied. “But feel free to call me hot again. Maybe even in public, you know, to even it out.” 

“Does Dylan Dylan like coffee?” 

He blinked and for a moment Ryan was concerned he had scared him off. 

“Yes. I love coffee. With you. If you’re asking.” 

Ryan wrote his number on the back of one of their free bookmarks. “Maybe call Ryan Ryan up to ask then?” 

Dylan smiled, taking it from him. “I will. I might not even make it out of the store before I do so. Sorry, that was lame. Yes.” 

He left the store and Ryan finally let out the nervous laughter he had been holding in. His phone buzzed. There were a few missed texts from Laura from ten minutes ago. 

 It’ll be fine

Ryan? Are you okay? 

I can come cover for you if want

I can only assume the worse from you not replying 

 He deleted his half finished text and sent a new one. 

 I’m okay

I think I accidentally asked him out 

 The most recent buzz was from an unknown number which Ryan saved as ‘Dylan Dylan’. 

 nice to meet you ryan ryan <3

i will try and be normal on our date 

(it was a date right?) 

  “Okay, it’s time for our request hour. I have already been told that we’re uninvited to brunch if we don’t play Emma’s new favourite song, so let’s kick it off with Natalie.” 

With the song on, Kaitlyn turned to him. “Um, spill.” 

“Because that went well last time?” 

“We’re off,” Kaitlyn said. “You are all smiles this week. What’s it about?”

“My platonic love for my favourite co-host?” Dylan winked at her. 

“Nope.” Kaitlyn crossed her arms. “Dylan, you love telling me your stupid crushes. Who's the newest?” 

“It’s an old stupid crush actually,” he said. “My little slip up actually worked out.” 

Kaitlyn punched his arm. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Dylan rubbed his arm. “I’m telling you now.” 

The song faded out and Dylan switched the mic back on. 

“That was Milk and Bone’s Natalie for Emma. Now, next up we have a request from a certain cute guy I met on the subway.” 

[nickywhoisi]

Whelp, things have been a mixture again.

I’ve been on and off again when it comes to my emotional state. I keep jumping inbetween moments of quiet where I can enjoy things and get closer to my old real happy self - that sometimes shows on my tumblr, to moments where I remember my cripplingly existential life scenario and I get so pathologically depressed and want to scream wail and cry in such despair - often that’s been expressed on my tumblr too. Really wish there could be someone to rescue me off of the streets finally, and surgically repair my poor soul! Help phones can only do so much and even then I have only gotten my phone charged up enough now.

Especially since, uh, within these two days, I got this really alarming bite. Not to overshare, but I guess this diary is where I lay everything bare. And it’s honestly even more serious than a lot of other matters I’ve posted. It made this hill-like bump on my arm. Very sure it was a spider bite, happened at a spot WHERE I THOUGHT I’D BE SAFE FOR THE NIGHT GDI D8< but I legit don’t know how that happened since I had a fairly thick jacket on? The last thing I need is to figure out how to haul myself and my things to a hospital and figure out how bad it is. I had been formulating how to best do so and have time to get a thing from my storage and some food, but as of now the pink blotch is going down! Thank goodness it’s healing, although the mound shape is still on my arm...I am a little concerned still. May still need a doctor if it doesn’t go down. At least I don’t have to buy another giant gas station ice block that leaks everywhere because they ran out of small manageable cubes and the bag it’s in was flimsy as hell, just to heal one spider bite on my arm that I didn’t even fucking ask to have in the first place.

I am always a powder keg being set on fire and I just want things to be safe again. Thusly, to be fully happy again. I’m grateful that there have been some moments where I can be, and to hold on to positive relationships with people here on tumblr...but the most important part of my needs I still haven’t gotten help to fulfill. After so long, still missing, and that kind of pain is felt every day. Ugh, I’m gonna get the cheapest tastiest takeout I can find, and play Sky. Good food and videogames have never let me down.

[umikawa]

Assigning Haikyuu Characters To-

the different ways i’ve confessed and the different ways i’ve been broken up with :p

characters: yamaguchi, kenma, hinata, ushijima, kiyoko, atsumu, kinoshita, bokuto, oikawa, hoshiumi.

Tw: Cheating.

Yamaguchi Tadashi - Confessing through a note

Slipping notes into their locker, trying to hold a smile as they read it and witnessing a blush overtake their face.

Finally handing them the final confession note but, he’s still too scared so he make tsukki give it to them.

Getting a confession note back during class and having to try hard to not show he’s blushing.

Kenma Kozume - The Accidental Breakup

Kuroo wondered how you would’ve reacted if he told you kenma wanted to break up. so he did.

“It was a joke.” He’d tell you after the damage was done. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”

Kenma didn’t know, Kuroo did it on his own and he doesn’t know his best friend lost his relationship because of a joke.

He finally confronts you after a week. he regifted you the notebook filled with things you love about him, but he’s written things he loves about you.

You don’t catch up to him fast enough and lose him forever.

Hinata Shoyo - The Set-Up

Yachi thought it would be fun to set you two up to date. She remembers that Hinata told her he had a crush on you a while back, and you felt the same.

She asks the both of you to meet at a stairwell near the gym, her plan is going well she thinks.

When you finally announce that you’re dating, she’s thrilled.

The relationship is awkward and there’s little to no interaction since you’re both so busy but, you two study together sometimes.

Ushijima Wakatoshi - Cheating (sorry)

he thinks there’s nothing wrong with what he’s doing.

he doesn’t text you anyway, what’s the harm? he thinks, “what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

he finally breaks up with you the day before your one month, but he tells your friend to do it for him, over text.

he announced that he’s dating your friend not even two days later and you figure out that he was cheating on you, two years later.

you tell yourself, “we never liked each other anyway.”

Kiyoko Shimizu - The Girlfriend Experiment 

She was questioning bisexuality and you, being one of her close friends, were asked to be her girlfriend as a test.

You agreed, already having a crush on her. Though you were setting yourself up for heartbreak, you did it for her.

The first two weeks are a breeze, nothings really changed, only your label.

It gets bumpier as time passes, she doesn’t kiss back, she doesn’t respond anymore.

“sorry, i guess i don’t like girls like i thought. i think it’d be best if we stopped being friends too, i can’t look at you the same way after this.”

Miya Atsumu - The ‘Just in case this backfires, let me make up a story’

Miya Atsumu does not confess. He has girls lining up in front of him to confess to him.

Well, until he met you.

He never really paid attention to you during the first term of school but sometime along, when you worked your way into his friend group when you became friends with Suna, he thought you were best.

You two click immediately once you get talking and he has to hide his blush every time you choose to sit next to him and run your fingers through his hair.

He confessed the day of a fireworks show, even if it was over text.

He made a bullshit lie about how an old lady told him he’d not regret doing something he really wanted to.

and it’s fine that you don’t feel the same, he won’t give up until you do.

Kinoshita Hisashi - The Spotify Playlist

He’s had a crush on you for two years and has never acted on it. But he enjoys the fact you two constantly call each other pet names

So, He listens to random songs on his own liked playlist and dissects the ones that remind him of you and throws other random love songs in the mix.

He sends it to you with so much confidence after five hours of screaming into his pillow, three showers, and baking ten mini cakes.

is in utter shock when you reply, “Sorry sweet pea i don’t have spotify!”

Transfers the playlist to youtube and sends the link.

Cannot sit down and does another spree, also has a mini concert in his bedroom pretending his hairbrush is a microphone.

and when you respond he’s over the moon.

Bokuto Kotaro - The Video Confession

You’re his best friend, right next to akaashi of course.

Rants to akaashi how he wants to confess so bad but he’s afraid that you won’t be his friend anymore.

“well, if they would stop talking to you if you did, then maybe they aren’t a good friend.”

wants to be offended because of that but can’t deny it’s true in a way.

so he does it with a video. “If you’re seeing this i have a HUGE crush on YOU.”

hides under his kitchen table when you reply, “I already knew Ko. But i like you too.”

Oikawa Toru - The Sugar Daddy Type Beat

He’s the same as Atsumu, he doesn’t confess.

The fangirls always buy him stuff, even though he says he doesn’t deserve it, that just makes them buy more things.

and on a particular day in july, you waltz up to him and hand him a keychain.

“happy birthday oikawa.”

freezes in his spot so you just leave, and it takes him roughly 17 fangirls to make him snap out of it before he looks at the keychain.

he remembers going live on instagram one time and talking about volleyball the entire time (which was a pure accident he’d meant to answer other questions) and mentioning the setter on the argentina team.

“a keychain? with a jersey number that isn’t yours? do they know you at all?”

he doesn’t mean to ignore the fan girls really but, he wants to talk to you more.

and you do, eventually. still giving him gifts from time to time.

Hoshiumi Korai - The Mutual Breakup

Even if you two loved being together, the distance and inability to make more than enough time for each other was dragging you both down.

The entire time he’s over at your house, he’s latched onto you, holding you as close as he can since he knows it’s the last time he can. at least, in a romantic way.

“I love you.” “I love you too.” “Maybe when we’re older, and still love each other, we can try again.” “maybe.”

You share your last hug with him when you drop him off at the train station.

I’m fine promise :D just a lil bored and felt like oversharing online or whatever 😋

[clanoffetts]

Tales From Bespin, Vol. III: Someone Different

Lando Calrissian x Reader x Boba Fett

Warnings: porn with a smidge of plot (18+); anal play, butt plugs, lando is an extravagant bisexual who loves fashion; boba is a reserved bisexual who only cares for the color of butt plugs; threesome!!; name calling?

word count: 5.6k

“Good afternoon, love,” a smooth voice says from the doorway. “Your room is still suiting you well, yes?” 

“Yes, Lando, they are” you reply, turning to look at the man. Clad in extravagant burgundy robes today, he was a brilliant contrast to the constant bright white of everything in Cloud City. 

He smiles, allowing himself to venture further into your room. “I’m glad, darling,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Always with the nicknames and the flattery, Lando was. Today he seemed to lay it on heavy, though. 

“Something is wrong,” you say. It is not a question, and Lando knows that. 

And yet he answers with, “No, my dove, nothing is wrong.”

Your eyebrow arches at him. You’d learned enough from him over the past few months to know better than that. 

“Yes, it is,” you insist. “You’ve been wanting to gain my trust, and yet you lie.”

His voice is a whisper now, and he leans close. “It is not without good reason. Lord Vader is coming.”

You suddenly wished you had let him lie. “What?”

“Lord Vader is coming to Cloud City. He requests I negotiate with him,” Lando says. There is worry in his eyes, he can’t out-talk Vader, much less out-smart him. 

You pull him into a hug, clinging onto him tightly. You’d never held him this tight. Not even those days and nights on the ship when you’d woken up in his arms in the shared bunk. Nor when you’d kissed him. Nor when you’ve fucked him. 

Lando wanted so badly to relish the feeling of your arms so tight around him, your forehead in the crook of his neck. But he couldn’t, not with the fear of Vader’s impending arrival, not with the feeling of your tears on his neck. 

“It’ll be alright,” Lando says. “We must cooperate.”

“We?”

He nods. “Yes, darling, we. I must cooperate with the Empire, you must cooperate with me.”

“I’m a grown woman, Lando. I can handle myself.”

“No one can handle themself when it comes to the Empire,” he says. “We will move your things into my rooms. They’re bigger, they’ll be more comfortable for you to stay in while Vader is here.”

You pull out of the hug enough to look at him. “Am I to be held hostage by you, Calrissian? Is this not the same as the situation you got me out of?” 

Your words are a dagger. When Lando’s heart began to swell with attraction on the ship after he’d rescued you, he’d promised you a place in Cloud City. And that he’d never harm you. 

“My dove,” he sighs. “You don’t have to. But it will be safer, I think. Besides, I can’t take you with me to negotiations, stormtroopers will be everywhere, and this room will get boring.”

You’re uncertain still, more out of stubbornness than anything else. “Lando, I don’t know. And it’s not like you’ll always be with Vader, right? We can still dine like normal. Stormtroopers won’t harm me if I keep to myself.”

His hands find your forearms, holding them in desperation. “Darling, if you dine with me like normal, if you follow me around the city, Vader will know you are important. They’ll know how much you mean to me.”

A smile spreads across your features despite your worry. It’s been a long week of waking up early, letting Lando press one of the many plugs into your ass, going about your business meetings and fashion fittings, and then having Lando fuck the soul out of you every night. Sometimes you’d wander back to your room if you’re done quite early and Lando leaves to play a game of sabacc, which you’ve learned can accomplish more than business meetings often could. There wasn’t a title on what the two of you were, but you were certain he’d gladly call himself your boyfriend. And you’d gladly be his girlfriend. 

“You’re important, too,” you say. “But I guess you can’t hide away in your room.”

The smile he gives you is dripping in pity. “Darling, I’m sorry. But they shouldn’t be here long. At least, Vader shouldn’t.”

You sigh. He just wants you to be kept safe, how can you be mad? After all, he’s seen much more of the galaxy than you. There have been a lot of dangerous criminals come through Cloud City, and this is the first time he’s been properly worried. “Alright.”

His eyes light up. “What should we bring? Your sewing stuff? Fabrics?”

“Well,” you start. “Do you think the Empire will be here long? If not I could use a break but if they’re here for a while I’ll need to keep working…”

“Better safe than sorry darling,” he replies with a smile. “I have a threepio unit get on that. For now, though, let’s have one last lunch outside.” He offers his arm for you to take, and you do. 

Out on the little balcony there was a table set with sandwiches and other snacky things, along with different juices. Ever the gentleman, Lando pulls out a seat for you. When you sit, a small whimper escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright, beautiful?” Lando asks with a smirk. 

You roll your eyes at him. “Of course I am.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks at your shared secret. The secret? The dark red jeweled butt plug that Lando had worked into you earlier that day. You’d gotten used to it for the most part, but somethings still send shivers up your body and sounds out of your mouth. 

“Wanted to ask you something,” Lando says. 

“And what’s that?”

“You mentioned something the other night,” he starts. “About all three holes…”

“Lando!” you gasp, looking around for anyone who might’ve heard him. “Someone could hear you!”

He laughs a little. “Darling, there’s no one else out here. I promise.” You sigh, and motion your hand for him to continue. “I was thinking I could start looking for someone. You know to help fuc-”

“Lando!” You whisper-yell. “At least be quieter!”

He lowers his voice this time, “Someone to help fuck you. Unless you already had someone in mind?”

“I’m not sure,” you reply. “Not a friend or anything. Or someone who’s here too often, I wouldn’t want things to get weird.”

“Well, I’ll keep my eye out,” he says with a wink.

The lunch was nice, though somewhat bittersweet because of the Empire’s dark shadow that looms over the planet. But it also filled you with excitement. The mix of the plug pressing in your ass and the talk of a threesome had you on edge for the rest of the day. Well, most of the day. The first Imperial ships arrived at dusk, casting shadows over the usually bright planet. All of your essentials were moved into Lando’s room and so you spent your evening designing new clothes, working on orders, and scrolling through the news feeds to see what people were saying about the Empire’s presence. Of course, most of it was positive, but a few negative things slipped through the filtering. 

You were already exhausted from being in Lando’s room, but you knew he was under enough stress having to entertain the Empire without having to worry about you.

-

Lando’s mouth hurt from fake smiles. His voice ached from fake laughter. Finally, he slipped away from the Moffs and Admirals and other people who find themselves to be extremely important. Lando maintained Cloud City’s reputation, though. There was lots of drinking and gambling and fucking, and usually Lando would indulge, but he really did wish to be back in his room, with you, easing out the small plug for a larger one...what he wouldn’t give.

Instead, he slipped away into a darker corner that he thought was unoccupied. “If it isn’t Lando Calrissian,” a deep, modulated voice said from behind him.

Lando whipped around, cloak swishing violently. “What is a Mandalorian doing in Cloud City?”

“Bounty,” the Mandalorian replied. A lightbulb went off in Lando’s head. Maybe this bounty hunter could be the third in your threesome. Especially if he’s only here on work.

Lando held out his hand. “I’m Lando, though you already knew that.”

The Mandalorian shifted his blaster so he could take Lando’s hand. “Boba Fett.”

“Do you like Alderaanian toniray, Boba?” Boba nodded curtly. “Let me buy you a glass then. Gotta get some before it’s all gone.” With Alderaan destroyed not that long ago, toniray had become a hot commodity. And not one that Lando offered freely. However, he’d wine and dine anyone if it made you happy. 

“As you wish,” Boba said and Lando led the way to a private booth. Well, it would’ve been private if it weren’t for the stormtroopers stationed outside any secluded place that could be used to conspire. 

Lando tried to spark conversation with the Mandalorian over the glasses of the light blue liquor, but it did not work. Boba did not even remove his helmet. He’d brought a straw. “You know, it tastes better if you don’t have to suck it like that, it messes up the taste,” Lando had said but Boba obviously didn’t care. 

Eventually, they just sat and listened to the stormtroopers talk. Boba had said one thing, though, and it was, “They’re so dumb, it’s entertainment.” And, Maker, he was right. 

After some quite dumb debates over little things, one of the troopers said, “You know the female orgasm is a myth?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Read it on the ‘Net. In every species, too, not just humanoids.”

Lando turned to look at Boba, who also turned to look at Lando. Lando couldn’t see Boba, but he knew that Boba was, at the very least, grinning at these two idiots.

“You sure? I’m pretty sure I’ve made a girl come,” a trooper said.

The other trooper replied, “No, man, it’s, like science or something. I read it on the ‘Net.”

Lando turned to Boba and said, “I really didn’t think any men thought that.”

Boba nodded. “It’s a shame really, so many women don’t come,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“My girlfriend told me about that the first time we slept together,” Lando hoped you wouldn’t mind the oversharing if he brought back this hunk of a Mandalorian. “Fixed that, though.”

Boba chuckled. “Good,” he said. “Women deserve more than idiots like that can give them.”

Lando started testing the waters now. “She’s gorgeous, my girl. Beautiful when she comes. Beautiful when she squirms, too.”

“Yeah?”

Lando nodded, tipping the rest of the toniray down his throat. “In fact, she’d be willing to show you. If you wanted to see, of course.”

“You’re offering me a threesome?”

Lando nodded. “We’ve been talking about it. You seem like her type.” It was a lie, Lando didn’t know what your type was. The Mandalorian believed him.

“Well, where is she?”

“I’ll take you to her.”

-

You sat on the huge bed, watching some holovids when the door creaked open. You still wore the gold dress that hugged your chest and then flowed like a river down the rest of your body. “Lando!” 

“I have something to tell you, darling,” he says as you rush to hug him. You cocked your head. “I think I found our third person.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a Mandalorian named Boba,” Lando says. “He’s not necessarily nice but I’m pretty sure we can trust him. And I’m definitely sure he’ll make you feel good.”

You smile. “If you trust him, I trust him. Where is he?”

Lando motions to the door, and you open it. Standing there was a man clad in green Mandalorian armor, it’s seen better days, but it seems to have held up pretty good. He’s not super tall, but kriff he is imposing. The weapons on him alone are enough to intimidate but his entire aura is commanding. His presence is so similar to Lando’s yet so different.

“Hello, Princess,” Boba says. “Or should I say Baroness?”

He’s said all of seven words to you and you’re already at a loss for words. You knew Lando was a Baron or whatever, but you’d never thought much of it until now. 

“I’m not really a baron,” he says. “But she does like being called names.” Lando is beside you, an arm around your waist. “Alright, gorgeous, what are your limits for tonight?”

You bite your lip. “I’m not really sure. I mean, nothing too hardcore, but maybe just ask me before you do something?”

“I figured Calrissian would’ve shown you enough to know your limits,” Boba teases. 

You suddenly feel defensive. “He has- He has shown me a lot,” you babble, your face heating up. “Just haven’t arrived at my limits.”

Boba just nods and moves on. “Surely we aren’t going to fuck on a sofa?”

Lando chuckles and shakes his head. “Bed’s through here.” Lando leads the party through the door and whispers to you, “Remember, we can stop any time.” You nod and squeeze his hand.

Lando leaves your side for a moment to draw back the tapestry that covers the large mirror at the end of the bed. Meanwhile, Boba has made himself comfortable in a char near the foot of the bed. “Why don’t you hop up on the bed, little one,” Boba suggests, motioning his hand towards the bed.

You feel awkward hoisting yourself up on the large bed with Boba’s eyes boring into you. The visor of his helmet gives nothing away, and while the mystery turns you on, it also scares you. But if Lando trusts him…

“Gorgeous, darling,” Lando says with a warm smile. He climbs onto the bed behind you, pulling you to rest against his chest. “Let’s present you for our new friend, hmm?” He lifts your legs up over his, spreading your legs and hiking your dress up so much so that you’re sure Boba can see your bare pussy. 

“She is very pretty,” Boba remarks. And that’s all. He has sat the blaster on the floor next to him, and you count that as him getting comfortable. 

Lando hands are running over the smoothness of the dress, and he finally stops at your tits. “You want to show Boba your tits, darling?”

“Yes,” you whimper, glancing over at the dark visor. Kriff, you wish you could see his eyes. “Boba,” you say, and he perks up a little. “Could...Could you take your helmet off?”

Lando tuts. “You’re forgetting your manners, darling,” he says. 

“Boba could you please take your helmet off? Please?”

He nods. His fingers mess with clasps and then there is a hiss and then there is his face. He’s gorgeous, tanned, scarred skin, strong brows, and poorly trimmed curly hair. You smile at him, but all he does is nod. 

“Now I think we can show him your tits,” Lando murmurs. And you nod and whimper a please. Lando’s hands come to the straps of the dress and gently ease them down before easing the tight bodice over the well of your breasts down to your stomach.

As each breast pops free from the tight restrictions of the gown, you faintly hear Boba suck in a breath. “Gorgeous tits, mesh’la,” Boba murmurs. You don’t know what the foreign word means, but it makes you feel warm inside.

Lando presses a kiss to your temple as he squeezes your tits and teases your nipples. “He’s right, pretty girl,” Lando says. “Gorgeous.”

Lando’s hand runs from your breast down to your stomach, pushing the dress even further down. He’s looking at you like one of the many art pieces he’s acquired over the years. “Bounty hunters like Fett don’t know how to appreciate works of art like I do, sweetheart.” His hand runs up to your breast again, tweaking a nipple and smiling when you gasp.

“And little rich boy love-makers like Calrissian,” Boba says, standing from the chair. “Don’t know how to give them a good fuck.”

You can’t help but giggle at the two men bickering over who could treat you the best. You’re not sure your body can handle it. 

“Then why don’t you show me,” Lando says. “Show me how to give her a good fuck then.”

“Gladly,” Boba smirks, approaching the bed. “Move out of our way, Calrissian.” Lando moves from his place behind you to sit beside you, watching with awe at how Boba approached. 

“Let’s get you out of this flimsy little thing,” Boba says, and you lift your hips so he can pull the dress all the way off. He tosses the gold fabric over his shoulder without a care in the galaxy. “So kriffing pretty,” Boba says, running a hand over your stomach to your hip and giving you a squeeze. “Your boyfriend was telling me some filthy things about you, princess.” 

Your breath grows ragged as you think about Lando and Boba discussing your sex. “Oh?”

“Mhm. Told me you’re pretty when you squirm,” Boba’s gloved hands were starting to warm up on your skin, as he continued to rub the skin of your hip. “I’d like to see you squirm.” 

You arch your back up, trying to push your tits up so that he’d touch them. “Mesh’la, you’re already so desperate,” he tuts. “She always this fucking needy?” He asks Lando.

Lando’s hand comes to pet your hair. “Always. I have a little trick, though.” Boba raises an eyebrow. “Turn her over and find out, Fett. You’re supposed to be the teacher, not me.”

With curious hands, Boba helps you turn onto your belly. “What’s your boyfriend’s little trick, mesh’la?” He asks, gently rubbing the globes of your ass. “Can I spank you, little one?”

“Please,” you whisper. 

And he does. He lands a fairly soft smack to your ass, but you felt it deep inside, thanks to the plug. “Hmm,” Boba pretends to think. “I think he’s plugged you up, am I right?” You whine, and Boba’s hands are spreading your ass. Nestled between your cheeks is a gorgeous dark red jewel, and Boba groans at the sight. “Very pretty jewel,” Boba says, applying some pressure to the plug and gently moving it around. “However, I think you’re matching your boyfriend.” Of course Boba had noticed your coordination with Lando’s capes. 

“Coincidence,” Lando laughs.

Boba shakes his head. “I wasn’t born yesterday. We’re going to have to change that, little one. Got any dark green plugs?” 

“She’s got every color,” Lando smiles as he goes to retrieve the box of plugs. And when he returns and presents them to Boba, he chuckles. 

“You’re both dirty things, aren’t you,” he says, selecting the medium sized emerald green plug from the box. “Grab her some lube, Calrissian,” he commands.

You clench your thighs in anticipation. It’s really starting, now. “Gonna take this out of you, mesh’la,” Boba murmurs against your back. “That ok?” He presses a few opened mouth kisses as you whimper a yes, and then his hands fly to the plug. He grasps the rounded jewel and gently eases it out of you, twisting and teasing a little along the way. 

Lando returns with the lube as Boba spreads your ass cheeks again, “Look at that tight hole,” Boba says. “Stretching it little by little.” 

“She’s doing so good training her asshole,” Lando praises. “Gonna take my cock one day, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Maker, yes,” you respond, voice breathy and needy. 

Lando is back beside you as you hear the bottle of lube open. “Ready for a bigger plug?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

Lando pets your hair again and whispers, “Manners, darling. That’s no way to treat a guest.” 

“Yes, please,” you correct and as soon as the last syllable leaves your mouth, you feel the cool lube on your hole. “Please,” you whine a little louder this time.

“Patience is a virtue, mesh’la,” Boba teases, but you don't have to wait long before the tip of the plug nudges against the tight muscle. “Gonna split you open, mesh’la,” he says as he pushes the plug deeper, and finally your hole closes around it and the rest of the way is easy. “Much better,” he says, tossing the dark red plug to Lando. 

Boba’s leather gloves are back on your hips, manhandling you back onto your back. “Open your mouth, princess,” he commands, and you obey. He slips a finger in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around it. You can only describe the taste as leather with a hint of Boba, some kind of musk from the underbelly of the galaxy that you’ve never visited. “Bite down.” You do, and he pulls his hand from the glove, leaving just the leather in your mouth. He takes the glove and tosses it to join your dress, and then has you repeat it with the other. 

“Now, go give your lover a blowjob, princess,” he says. “Put that pretty mouth to use.” You obey, crawling up towards Lando who was already freeing himself from his pants. He was hard, precum already leaking and you ached to have him inside you. “Go on, mesh’la,” Boba encourages. “Suck Calrissian’s cock like a good girl.”

You pump Lando’s cock with your hand a few times before taking his head in your mouth, sucking softly. Your knees are folded under you, and you go to move, but Boba holds you in place. You gasp around Lando’s cock as something wet touches your clit. It’s Boba’s tongue. 

“Boba,” you moan, popping off of Lando’s cock. 

“No, no,” Boba reprimands. “Don’t let me distract you. I told you to be a good girl and suck Calrissian’s cock.”

You nod and return to Lando, taking his cock as far down your throat it would go without gagging. Boba also returns to his ministrations, and as you moan around Lando’s cock, his hand tightens in your hair. “So pretty with a cock in your mouth,” Lando praises. “Making me feel so good. Such a good girl.” 

You continue sucking Lando’s cock, swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand strokes his shaft. Boba’s slow licks to your cunt bring you closer and closer to the edge, the pace impossibly measured. You try to grind down on Boba’s face but his hands quickly move to hold you in place, his tongue never missing a beat. You slip Lando’s cock out of your mouth to whimper, “I’m going to come!”

Boba’s tongue is gone just as quickly as it came. “Not yet, mesh’la,” he says. “We want to see you squirm.” 

Lando strokes your cheek. “You gonna be good and not come until Boba lets you?” You nod. “Alright, good girl, ask Boba what he wants you to do next.”

“What do you want me to do next, Boba?” You ask quietly, growing shy again. 

Boba grabs your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “I want you to suck my cock now, pretty girl.” He relaxes back against the pillows now, shedding the codpiece of his armor to reveal his bulge. “What do you want Calrissian to do, mesh’la?” You tear your eyes away from the outline of Boba’s cock to look at Lando. 

“Will you finger me, please?” 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Lando says with a smirk.

You turn back to Boba, who has finally freed his cock from his pants. And kriff  he is huge. He’s average length, but he’s so fucking thick. Lando is longer, though not as thick. “I don’t think staring constitutes good manners,” Boba taunts. 

You swallow as you bend down to take him in your mouth. You work your lips around him, already feeling so stretched. You almost forgot that you’d asked Lando to finger you, but as he spreads your thighs apart you remember. “Your pussy is swollen, pretty girl,” he says. “Barely gotten any attention and she’s already swollen, Fett.”

“She’s a needy little slut, aren’t you, mesh’la?” You hum around his cock and then truly moan as Lando works two fingers inside your dripping hole. 

“I think I prefer the red plug,” Lando says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

Boba’s hand is buried in your hair now, pulling harder than Lando would. “Funny, Calrissian,” he says, and then groans as you whine around his cock. “But green is obviously her color.” Boba starts guiding you on his cock, never making you take him too deep. It’s almost as if he can read your mind. Especially as you started to think you couldn’t do it anymore, your jaw was getting sore, and Boba pulled you off him. “Good girl,” he praises. “Are you close to coming?”

“Almost,” you whine, pushing back on Lando’s fingers. He curls them in just the right spot and you moan, “Lando, please, please, please,” as he keeps pushing his fingers right into that spot, over and over. 

“You want to come, pretty girl?” He asks, and you frantically nod. “Then you’d better beg Boba.” 

You turn your attention back to Boba. You study his face, the slight curl of his lips, the wide bridge of his nose, the crinkles by his eyes. You stare so intently into his dark eyes and beg, “Please Boba, please can I come? I’ll be so good, I promise, please,” your babbling gets more and more incoherent as you continue but you don’t care. You want to come so bad. 

He tilts his head, offers you a smile of pity, and says. “No. You cannot.” Lando’s fingers slip out of you and you collapse onto the bed. “But you can take my cock in that pretty little cunt.” 

You whine at the thought, the idea of the stretch of his cock, of the release it would bring. But you know he will deny you again. “If it’s too much, tell us,” Lando says, and Boba hums in agreement.

“Not too much,” you say. “Wanna take Boba’s cock like a good girl.” 

Lando helps you onto your hands and knees, and Boba makes his way to your ass. Lando caresses your face with a smooth hand. “There’s my good girl.” 

“Alright, mesh’la, here we go,” Boba says. Your mouth hangs open as he pushes in, the stretch bigger than anything you’d felt, and while he couldn’t reach the same spots as Lando, he’d found his own. “So fucking tight, wow,” he groans as he bottoms out. “You want to know how to fuck, Calrissian? This is how you fuck,” Boba drags his cock out slowly before slamming back into you. 

“Boba!” You cry, and you can already feel him pulling out again. You brace yourself on Lando as Boba slams into you again, mouth hanging open and drool pooling on your tongue. 

Lando coos, “So good, baby, so good.” Lando is on his knees in front of you, holding his cock in hand, and says, “I’m going to put my cock in your mouth, gorgeous, since it’s hanging open so pretty.” 

The only response you can muster is a nod as Boba relentlessly fucks into you. It’s so different from Lando, and you liked it, but you ached to have Lando’s fast yet gentle strokes. Not that you were opposed to coming on Boba’s cock, of course. 

Lando being back in your mouth gave you a thrill. All three holes. You felt full, to say the least. The feeling intensified when you moaned, barely able to hear it because of Lando’s cock and the slapping of Boba’s skin against yours. You felt your release coming, again, as Boba slapped your ass. “Take cock so well,” he grunts. “So -nngh- fucking good!”

Boba’s hand is in your hair, and he pulls your mouth off Lando’s length. “Don’t you fucking come, pretty thing. Not yet.” 

You let out your loudest, most pathetic moan of the night as Boba gives one final thrust and then pulls out quickly. You thought the next thing you’d feel was his cum on your ass, but you don’t. “Get back here and make your girl come, Calrissian,” Boba demands. Lando and Boba switch spots, Boba’s thick cock back in front of you. “Lando’s gonna stuff your pussy with cum, and I’m going to fill your mouth, mesh’la.”

You feel Lando’s head against your hole. “Going to be such a good cumslut, aren’t you sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you whine. “Yes!” And then you’re full. Again. Boba gives a shallow thrust into your mouth and Lando sinks himself into your cunt. Your moans are muffled again, but this time there are more, they’re needier. 

“Listen to her, Fett,” Lando says. “Adorable little whines.”

“Pathetic moans,” Boba corrects. “For a needy little girl.” 

The filthy words are too much, Lando’s consistent, deep, and yet somehow gentle thrusts are too much, the stretch of Boba’s cock in your mouth is too much. You try to warn them that you’re going to come, and miraculously, Boba understands. “Go on,” he coos. “Come around our cocks. Make us fill you with cum.”

And you do. You come in a mess of whines and muffled begging, squirming towards Lando but not wanting to move from Boba. Your body shakes with the orgasm, toes curling, fingers gripping the nice duvet. You finally regain some of your senses to hear the two men moaning. All because of you.

“Ready to take my cum?” Lando grunts, and before you know it you can feel him spill inside you, coating your walls so deliciously. You don’t know what it is about Boba that brought out the rougher, meaner side of Lando, but it was amazing.

And then it’s Boba’s turn, “Going to come, mesh’la,” he moans, and then your mouth is full. You’re so full. Boba slips out of your mouth. Both men are sitting back on their haunches, regaining their breath as you flop onto your side. Fucked out and full of cum. “Show me,” Boba murmurs, and you do, opening your mouth and showing him his load on your tongue before you swallow it. Once it’s gone from your mouth you open again. “So good,” he praises. 

Both men get off the bed, Lando helps you down off the bed for a moment. “Let me turn the sheets down, darling,” he says. You give him a blissed out smile, and his heart feels like it’s going to explode. Kriff, he’d employ Boba and do this every night if he could keep that fucked-out smile on your face. 

Just as Lando helps you up under the covers, Boba returns with a towel, damp on one side. “Here you go, mesh’la, let’s clean you up.” He wipes some of the cum from your thighs, then the cum from your chin. “There you go, princess,” he says, getting back up to take the towel to a basket. 

“Let’s take that plug out, pretty girl,” Lando coos, and you turn onto your side, allowing him access to your ass. As he eases the plug out of you, he apologizes everytime you wince. Finally, the plug is out and on the nightstand and you feel empty. You whine. 

“Hey, shh,” Lando comforts. “Give us a moment, we’ll come cuddle you.”

“We?” Boba asks.

“You gonna pump and run?”

Boba shakes his head. “Most people prefer that.”

“Not us,” Lando says as he starts to strip down to his boxers. 

Boba tries to conceal his smile. No one’s ever wanted him to stay the night before. And sometimes he didn’t have enough credits for that long. “Alright then,” Boba replies, starting to unclasp his armor. He’s not sure if it’s the warmth in Lando’s smile or the warmth of your pussy that makes him feel like he can trust the two of you, but he relishes the feeling, because tomorrow when finally secures Han Solo, he probably won’t be seen as a friend anymore.

Eventually, after lots of armor clanking on the ground, you’re nestled between the two men. Your head is on Lando’s chest, Boba’s head is on your belly, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You can tell the Mandalorian hasn’t felt too many soft touches, and your heart aches for him. Under his scars and his muscles, he’s a softy, you can feel it. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” Lando murmurs against your head. “I’m glad we got to do this.”

“I love you, too, Lando,” you reply. “And thank you, Boba. I think it’s safe to say you’re always welcome in Cloud City, if you want to stay. Or, at least, pay us another visit.”

Boba wishes he could. But the knowledge that you wouldn't say that if you knew he was here by a tip from Lord Vader himself or that he’d be capturing and probably killing one of Lando’s oldest friends. “As you wish, princess,” is all he can muster before he lets himself succumb to the warmth and comfort that he gets to have tonight.

@delusionsxfgrandeur @hansonveggieclub @fuckyeahbeskar @tibbietibbs !!

[whatnowhaya]

A Lot Of Documenting 🗃

Okay so I haven't been here for a good while, and besides the times I used this place to document my readings and mental stuff I haven't really spent time like I used to do and it's because quite honestly, I didn't have much free time to do so, and writing this down doesn't mean I have it now but I made this account to document some aspects of my life and I don't want to stop, so here's what has been going on...

July was something, to say the least, some tears were shredded, literal slips happened and brutally honest opinions were shared with people who turned out to be important ( and being me I had no clue🤦🏻‍♀️😆), bad habits found their way back and new ones found their way in, but that's not documenting, is it? so here we go...

On June 22nd, I started working again

On June 24th, (my birthday) I lost it at work and went home to have a delightful meltdown.

On July 4th, had my first official day off.

On July 10th, I went to see my original Dr and statred taking his advice once again.

On July 19th, it was Arafah and I had to work a bit late and my oh my, was I under stress... I cried twice at my station but according to my sister, I made progress since I didn't call her to get me home lol.

I also had to work late during the four days of Eid, and for those who don't know me I sleep at 10 or past 10 and I had to work past 10 pm so...

On the 20th, I was called by someone and I'm relatively new so I don't know everyone yet at the workplace and so I went and I was kinda nervous and in my head, I was like, this is it, they're letting me go but actually he praised my work I presented on Arafah and how much he appreciated what I did and said that I see things differently and that I don't quite fit in my current position and that he could help me move and stuff like that but we talked for a while and he said he actually enjoyed my company and talking to me😊

And of course, I overshared stuff and gave my honest opinions with him regarding the job and workplace and when I went back to my station my coworker asked where have I been and to my shock she informed me I was with a meeting with the son of the company!🤦🏻‍♀️😳

P.s ever since, he has been giving regular visits to the workplace lol, I guess my opinions influenced him to check it constantly.

But on the other hand, my other coworkers have been dealing with me differently🙃

Fast forward a bit, on the 24th of July and for the last couple of days, I was complaining about how slippery the floors have been, and in the middle of the chaos, they decided to swipe them and just like that, I had a literal slip in front of EVERYONE! My co-workers and customers🙂

I was pissed off, not about the fall, but about who decides to clean in the middle of a rush hour?!

Anyways, I have bruises still and had previously decided to take a day off the next day, so I had the rest needed.

On the 26th the unforgivable happened, I forgot my dads birthday💔 I was so caught up with work that I forgot the days of the week and if it wasn't for my sister I might have gone on my day without remembering.

Of course, other things happened but I guess I'll restrain for now🤭

29/7/2021

Thursday

[hoodie42069]

May I request a catra x reader where the reader tells catra that she’s pregnant and catra just dips without paying child support? 😇

Catra x Pregnant reader

I swear it’s a serious agansty fic

You and your cat wife had some shrex and what she didn’t know is that you didn’t take your anti baby vitamins. You wanted a little gremlin child that will eventually ruin your marriage with Catra.

You got the best pregnancy test anyone could get. “Preggers test.” You were so excited and hoping for a little cat gremlin. You already had names for potential kiddos, Mike Hawk for a boy. Mike as is first name and Hawk as a middle and Jenna Tolls for a girl, Jenna for a first name and Tolls as a middle name.

You got home and Catra was watching Malcolm in The Middle on the TV. You sneak off the bathroom just as the golf cart scene started playing. You took the test and you waited anxiously.

The pregger test beeps and you are pregnant. You couldn’t hold your excitement anymore. You run out just as the theme song plays.

“Catra! Catra!” You say excitedly.

Catra runs over to you and is happy that you’re happy. Aww that won’t last long.

“WHAT WHAT?” Catra asks.

“I’m PREGGERS!” You yell happily.

Catra is shooketh, she doesn’t want a child. I mean she was watching Malcolm in The Middle, she knows how fucking terrible children are.

“What? Maybe the test was wrong.” Catra nervously reposnds.

“Nope! I purposely didn’t take my anti baby vitamins anymore!” You say.

Catra stumbles and grabs onto your hoodie and pulls you closer to her. She glares into your eyes. She looks like she wants to kill someone

“Catra! Woah are you ok?” You ask.

“We need more catnip and milk!” Catra says.

Catra runs out of the house and keeps running. She fucking ran faster Karen’s run after the manager.

Catra ran to a park and ran up to some loser teenager with some oversized hoodie and acne and honestly she looked like someone who spends too much time on reddit and tumblr and is in love with Hiccup, she was on her scooter avoiding people, probably thinking of Hiccup.

“Look kid, what’s your name? And do you know where getmethefuckouttahere bus station is?” Catra asks the teenager.

“Uhh, my name is Ally. Yeah I know where it is. Why?” Ally the weirdio asks.

“I’m running from my batshit crazy wife Y/n, she’s pregnant and-“ Catra says.

“Ok I know I sometimes overshare through memes, but I’m only 17 so what do you want Karen?” Ally asks.

“I’m Catra, what are memes—never mind. I need you to let me ride with you on your scooter, take me to the bus station and I’ll give you my anti baby vitamins.” Catra says quickly.

“I don’t have a boyfriend and unless Hiccup is real I nevermind— But fine Karen. I’ll do it.“ Ally the antisocial idiot says.

Catra jumps onto her scooter and holds onto her while Ally fucking speeds down the street. Catra holds onto the minor tightly and Ally not being used to people hugging her, is uncomfortable but for some reason likes it.

They arrive at the bus station and Catra gives the vitimans to Ally and hugs her goodbye and nearly kisses her but Ally being a minor and this lady being like 20, pushes her away. Catra apologizes and Ally smiled awkwardly.

Catra buys a ticket and waved goodbye the anti social weirdo and Catra goes on her way and relaxes knowing that she’ll never have to see her bitch wife again.

Meanwhile after few hours after Catra left to get milk, you get nervous and want to see your wife again. You call the police and you say your wife went missing and Horatio Caine checks the bus station and tells you that your wife left.

You hang up the phone without saying thank you. Feel your heart sink and the tears come out of your eyes and you feel so fucking sad. Catra was just talking to you this morning saying how much she loved you.

Everything around you starts to fade and you can’t focus and you throw up. You realize Catra’s stuff is still here and you decide to keep it so you can tell your future gremlin that her other mother had button eyes was a good wife, but wasn’t ready.

A year later you need child support from her. You try to locate her but you can’t find her and you cry even more.

Meanwhile Catra is chilling in some place with a new wife and doesn’t regret a single thing.

“Fuck children!” Catra yells out.

The local priest high fives Catra agreeing with her.

Catra is happy, you’re depressed and sad and have a child you forgot to abort with you now.

Children suck.

-

A/n: if you’re wondering who “Ally” is, take a wild guess ;)

[thebibliomancer]

Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 20

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because dang the All-Maudra died. Gotta see what happens next.

Last times on book: Amri and co are on a quest to unite all the Gelfling clans against the Skeksis. They’ve managed with the Sifa by convincing Maudra Ethri to look at some cool flames. They’ve managed with the Dousan by restoring a cool, giant tree. But now they’ve received word that that the All-Maudra has died.

Chapter 20

Team Naia travels to Ha’rar... no, that can’t be right.

Amri felt like he must have misheard. Erimon passed the parchment to Kylan, who read it again. Amri didn’t need to read it. He didn’t want to. It wouldn’t explain how or why or who had done it. Just that it had happened. He reached up to see if Tavra was still on his shoulder. She was where she’d been since they’d leaped into the lake, but she said nothing.

Oof. I hadn’t thought of that but poor Tavra.

Her mom died and she never got a chance to go ‘yo i’m alive but a spider but and also you can’t stop me from dating Onica now because we can’t have lesbian babies like this.’

Amri wonders if the All-Maudra was killed by the Skeksis because she vowed to resist the Skeksis but that sets Kylan off. Also, Kylan shows he’s upset by crossing his arms and twisting his ears back. Like a cat?

But Kylan points out that All-Maudra Mayrin said she was lighting the fire of resistance but nothing happened like what happened with the Sifa and the Dousan where actual rainbow flames burned the story of uniting the Gelfling into something nearby.

“You think she didn’t light the fire after all?” Naia asked.

“Maybe she thought she had,” Onica said solemnly. “Maybe she died trying.”

They had no proof except the feeling in their hearts. Amri didn’t want to believe it, but he couldn’t deny it either: The Vapra fire had never been lit.

But if the fires HADN’T been lit for the Vapra and the All-Maudra was no longer leading them with some lip service about resisting. Then it means there was only one path for Team Naia to take in the seven chapters still left in this book.

They were going to Ha’rar after all.

MY GOD.

I never thought this day would come.

I mean, something is going to sidetrack them, right??

Because the side characters are making sure that nothing gets in their way.

Erimon lends them his Crystal Skimmer Tappa because she’s the fastest in his xeric and even asks Periss to drive it.

Ha, I knew Periss was joining the party.

Erimon has to stay and help organize the resistance with the other sandmasters once they arrive since Maudra Seethi is on her way to Ha’rar.

WHERE I CAN’T BELIEVE THE TEAM IS ACTUALLY GOING. Its been nearly three books of not going to Ha’rar! J.M. Lee, you’re blowing my mind!

“Now that the storm has broken, the xerics will continue to arrive. I will tell them the song of what has happened here. And when the time comes, we will heed the signal of the flames. We will join the fight against the Skeksis.”

“We still don’t know what that signal will be,” Naia said.

Erimon bowed. “We can never fully predict what form a sign will take. We only know it when we see it, or hear it, or sense it some other way. But I have faith in Thra, and in you. I will se to it the Dousan do not forsake the gifts we have been given. Not as we have in the past, nor ever again.”

You’ve really learned a thing, Erimon.

Erimon says that he thinks Periss can get them to Ha’rar in a day and so and apparently without a storm and without all the supplies, Tappa nyooms.

On the Skimmer trip, the team continues to discuss the All-Maudra’s death. Tavra finally pipes up to suggest that Mayrin failed to light the fires of resistance because the Skeksis found her out. But that there’s no point in speculating.

Because she’s finally getting what she’s wanted all along, to go to Ha’rar but in the way she’d least want it.

Be careful what you wish for?

“We must go to Ha’rar and reach someone who can tell us what happened. No more Far-Dreams or riddles from Thra. I want answers.”

“How are you taking this?” Amri asked. Tried to keep it soft, to let her know he was asking her feelings and not her political opinion. She was hesitant in answering.

“I am worried for my sisters. I am worried for my people.”

Amri tells her that Seladon will take care of Brea to reassure her and if Seladon’s arc is similar to the show then, -laughs in irony-.

Tavra was quiet a long time, unmoving. She curled one leg in.

“I don’t know that she will,” she said. “that is my greatest fear. My mother put her duties first and her daughters second. It was difficult to find ways to earn her love. Because of our station. But we tried. For me, that meant becoming a soldier. For Brea, becoming a scholar. For Seladon, it meant becoming All-Maudra one day... but the pressure was often too much. She is not ready, and I fear the Skeksis know that.”

“You should be All-Maudra,” Naia said suddenly.

Hah. Naia doesn’t even know Seladon and she’s like ‘wow she probably sucks and you’d be better.’ Poor Seladon.

The idea brought a strange fantasy to life. Tavra, in her Gelfing body. Sword in hand, drapedi n the silver cloaks with the living crown on her brow. She had traveled farther than any of them, knew more of the state of the world. Knew the Skeksis all by name, knew how the All-Maudra was expected to behave. Had the respect of her clan as a Vapra princess, but knew firsthand the hardships that had befallen the Gelfling who were so unlucky to find themselves in the Skeksis’ crushing grasp.

If there was ever a leader the Gelfling could look to, Amri realized, it was Tavra. Tavra, who was locked in the body of a spider, whose voice could barely be heard even by those who knew enough to listen.

“That is impossible,” Tavra said. She slipped below the rail and disappeared into Kylan’s traveling pack.

Relatable.

As evening falls they get closer to the snowlands and Periss tells them he’ll have to leave them at the frost line because Tappa is a DESERT CREATURE.

Nooooo Periss, you’re supposed to be the sixth ranger! You can’t leave your new best pals!

He also calls Naia Amri’s girlfriend and he does do the “she’s not my girlfriend” thing but less vehement and more embarrassed.

“Have you dreamfasted together?”

Amri’s ears went flat at the forward question. Of course he’d dreamfasted with Naia, but only to share memories that they’d needed to share, so the truth of the Skeksis and the message they carried would not be forgotten. But there were other memories, ones more secret and intimate. Private hopes and fears. Memories he had all to himself, beautiful things he’d seen when he’d been alone. Dreams he’d had, and nightmares.

Amri had always hoped one day to find someone to share those memories with. Someone he trusted enough and who trusted him to truly dreamfast. To share everything. It had never occurred to him that someone might be Naia. Until now, and only thanks to a wily Dousan thief. Periss grinned ear to ear, as if making Amri blush from embarrassment was his new favorite game.

“No. Not that way,” he mumbled.

“Do you want to?” Periss asked.

“I want to change the subject.”

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Excuse me I need to take a moment.

a moment

You’re adorable, Amri.

Also, based on this, Jen and Kira basically got engaged the first time they met. Just went full info dump on each other. ‘HEY I GUESS THATS ME AS A BABY’ because they never learned to not overshare in dreamfasting and because nobody ever taught Jen about sex.

Also also, this fits well with what we learn in the first book about how its a sign of maturity for Gelfchildren to learn how to not broadcast their entire lifestory the instant someone touches them.

I continue to love the nuances we get about dreamfasting.

After sleeping and starting another day of travel, Amri spends some time practicing sword because he’s changed his tune on that.

Amri practiced his sword stances, parries and thrusts. Imagined striking down Skeksis after Skeksis as he charged into a citadel swarming with darkened beasts. It felt heroic in his mind, that part -- the charge, the thought that he could single-handedly defeat the monsters that might have taken the shining city -- but in the end, even in his fantasies, when they finally reached the throne, the All-Maudra was already dead.

Aw.

Although the first part of this wild fantasy sounds like Amri should have been scenario writing for the Age of Resistance trpg.

But its more about his understanding that even if he becomes a cool, heroic swashbuckling figure with like two whole days of sword practice under his belt and even if they win, that victory will always carry with it the tragedies the Skeksis inflicted on the way. Mira, Mayrin, other Gelfing whose names don’t start with M’s.

They reach the frost line and dangit Periss actually leaves! Just because you’re the sixth ranger you think you can come and go to save the budget??

Although, in a nice bit of growth, he gives the team all the jewelry he stole from the Sifa. Nice, they can give Tae her stuff back if they see her.

Going the rest of the way on foot, Team Naia actually reaches Ha’rar. I’m frankly shocked.

Like the crystals in a broken geode, the city of Ha’rar glittered in the protective shell of the mountains, covered in snow and glowing with moon- and starlight. At the far edge of the city, a majestic building stood with its back to the wide Silver Sea. It looked like an icicle, or one of the many crystal stalagmites in Domrak and the Caves of Grot. Every elaborately sculpted feature refracted the light of the moons and the Waystar, sending night rainbows across the city.

It was beautiful, but eerily silent and ominously dark.

Hmmmm.

None of the lanterns are lit and none of the people are out and about on the streets. Spooky.

Tavra tells them that they absolutely must not be caught by the Skeksis. And then with her hometown knowledge guides them along back paths and side roads.

They have to duck out of view at one point when two Skeksis come down the street.

Skeksis. Two of them, passing by on the street just in front of them. One wore broad-shouldered, black-scaled armor, covering his spiny back like the carapace of an armalig. Gray hair -- or was it fur? grew across his blunt forehead and cheeks, casting a hazy shadow upon his scowling lips and piercing yellow eyes. The other stood straighter in his crimson and black robes, armored and adorned in shining gold chains. He seemed taller yet, thanks to the fleshy spike that protruded from the top of his head like a horn.

“skekUng and skekZok,” Tavra whispered. “The General and the Ritual Master.”

I wonder if skekVar exists in this continuity.

skekUng is the General so Var doesn’t have a lot to be doing.

Also, FLESHY SPIKE? ZOK ARE YOU OKAY?

-google image-

He does have a gold hat thing but in one of the comics he just has a tall head spike so I DUNNO. I’m a little alarmed of him now.

Anyway, skekUng being here is bad because they all remember skekLi gloating that skekUng was making something bad.

Being possessed of ‘only the most relevant conversational snippets’ senses, skekUng complains “This is a waste of time. I say we kill the princess as we killed her mother and let the Vapra bow directly to us. As they should.”

Which confirms that the Skeksis killed the All-Maudra.

AND THEN before they can process that, Amri is grabbed by a hooded Gelfling.

“He’s possessed by a spider,” hissed a female voice, familiar in Amri’s ear. “On his shoulder -- quick, grab it and crush it!”

Onica stops the hooded Gelfling, who turns out to be Tae. Hi Tae!

Tae isn’t convinced because apparently the body-jacking spiders are a known and concerning concern at this point.

Amri tells Tavra that its time to reveal herself to Tae.

Tavra let out a tired sigh.

“Tae, it’s me. Katavra.”

Love that tired sigh. Spiders can’t even sigh. That’s just how tired Tavra is.

Tae wants to know HOW and possibly several repeated incredulous WHATs but Amri points out that its not a great idea to get into that in the middle of a sneaking mission. So Tae leads them off somewhere they can talk.

Geez only six chapters left. And we’ve got Ha’rar, a dead All-Maudra, Tae’s back. Periss took off... dangit did Periss take off because of a party limit? Tae is now the sixth party member?

[ericsonclan]

Falling For You

Summary: A part of Duck's past is revealed while on a date with Oakley. Oakley gives the address where Duck can meet them for their next date but no further details.

Word Count:

Read on A03: 3407

Life was good. That’s what Duck thought to himself as he contentedly chowed down on a burger while sitting in the corner booth at Ericson’s Diner. Across the table from him sat Oakley who was chewing upon a grilled cheese sandwich rather thoughtfully. Duck’s eyes pulled away from his burger to look over at his paramour. That’s what he liked to call Oakley. They both agreed it sounded gender neutral and romantic at the same time. Aasim had mentioned something about it not meaning what they thought it did, but Duck had never gotten round to looking into the exact meaning. Gulping down his current mouthful of food, he caught Oakley’s eyes. “How’s the food?”

“Crunchy,” Oakley took another bite, nodding in approval. Duck knew that was one of their favorite textures; the sandwich looked to be a success. He was glad. Some thought of Oakley as picky, but Duck always found it fun to try and guess what they would enjoy. Between the cushy booth seats and the enjoyment they were finding in their sandwich, Duck figured Oakley would be down for having more dates here. It was good news for him. Ericson’s Diner was usually one of the last delivery stops Duck made and besides he loved the people and the food here too. Making the diner a regular date spot when it was the first place they’d met sorta felt romantic to Duck too.

“Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t ol’ Duck Callaway,” The voice made Duck flinch. He looked up to see his memory had served his well. Roy Fortner stood before him, a girl Duck didn’t recognize on his arm. The young man smiled at Duck. No, not a smile. It was more of a knowing sneer. “Whatcha doing these days, Ducky?”

“Having lunch, same as you probably,” Duck mumbled. He looked over to see Oakley was still intently focused on their sandwich, seemingly unaware they had company. Good. Hopefully Roy wouldn’t say anything to them.

“Whatcha up to these days, Ducky? My old man got me onto the force just like I always said he would,” Roy flashed a smile over to the girl on his arm who seemed enchanted by his boasting. “How bout you? You flying airplanes now? You were always blabbing on and on about them,”

“No, I…” Duck cleared his throat, crumpling up his napkin. “I drive a delivery truck,”

“Huh. I guess that is more your speed tho. Get this, Carrie,” Roy turned to the girl on his arm with a devious grin. “We used to have another nickname for old Ducky here in school. I bet you can guess what it was,” He paused for a moment but not long enough for her to answer. “Dumbo! We called him that cause of his ears, see? Big as dinner plates! And cause he always talked about flying. But I guess you never did, huh, Ducky?”

Duck wanted to say something. Flying school was expensive; he was still saving up. He still had a long path ahead of him but he’d get there someday. But nothing came out. It was like he was stuck back at the lunch table at school, waiting for the teasing to pass.

“Anyway, it was good seeing you again. Later!” With a two-fingered mock salute Roy ended the conversation and strolled away with his girl on his arm, leaving Duck in an overwhelmed stupor.

After a few seconds though Duck looked up and saw Oakley’s eyes were on him. “Sorry about that guy, he’s a real jerk. I was hoping I’d never see him again but I guess the town’s not big enough for that,” Duck looked down at his half-eaten burger, his appetite gone. “He told that girl about the nickname as if I liked it, like it was a nice thing. But it wasn’t. They wouldn’t just say it when I talked about airplanes or even cause of my ears though they did that a lot too. They’d say it…”

Duck paused, his emotions from those days coming back. “I’m not the smartest. Not at life and not in school. So whenever there was a test or the teacher passed back papers they’d grab them and see how bad my grades were and tell the whole class. The teachers would tell them to shut up but they never did. Just kept calling me Dumbo every time,” He glanced up, suddenly growing self-conscious of his candidness. “Sorry, that was probably oversharing. Not like we’ve been going out long enough to say heavy stuff like that. I’m just…” The word ‘dumb’ drifted through the air between them, unspoken.

Oakley finished the last bite of their grilled cheese sandwich then carefully wiped all the crumbs off their hands. “I get to choose the next date spot,”

“Oh. Do you have something in mind?”

“I’ll text you.” Oakley looked round the diner before returning their gaze to Duck. “Good choice for this time. I like it here,” The small smile on their lips would normally brighten Duck’s day, but the encounter with Roy had left him in a bit of a funk. Oakley held out their hand, waiting for Duck to join.

Duck held out his hand too. He gave Oakley a down low high five then held out his hand for the same. On the second one their fingers drifted apart from each other then their firsts met in a fist bump. Their customary goodbye cheered Duck up a bit. He looked up at his paramour fondly. “Thanks, Oakley,”

“See you Friday,” With that Oakley got up from their seat and headed out.

Duck sat a minute longer, thinking back on what had just happened. Oakley hadn’t really reacted to any of that stuff with Roy or to Duck’s story from the past. Maybe they didn’t care about any of it? At least it hadn’t made them uncomfy. Rising up from the booth, Duck left a tip on the table as thanks for the free meal Clem had given them and headed out as well.

---

A week later, Duck drove out to the location Oakley had texted him. They hadn’t provided any details, only an address. It certainly wasn’t anywhere Duck had been before. The fact that he was driving outside of the city made him wonder if Oakley had some sort of picnic or hike planned. He never knew what to expect with Oakley; that was one of the things that made them so fun to be around.

As Duck neared the end of the directions on his maps program, his eyes widened as he saw what he was approaching. That was a plane on the tarmac! This was an air strip! Were they going flying today? It was a beautiful day for it, bright and clear, tons of puffy clouds. Duck quickly found a parking spot and hurried toward the main building, nearly bursting with excitement.

Once he was close enough to the building, Duck noticed a sign above the entrance: Wellington Skydiving Adventures. Skydiving! Duck had never skydived before. What an awesome date idea! Duck strode through the doors and toward the front desk where a friendly looking woman with goggles atop her head stood reading a flight schedule out of a blue binder. Her eyes brightened when she noticed Duck. “Well, hi there! My name’s Edith. Welcome to Wellington Skydiving Adventures! Do you have a reservation?”

“Uhhh maybe,” Duck scratched the back of his head with an awkward smile. “My name’s Duck Callaway and-”

“Oh, Duck!” Edith’s eyes brightened in recognition. “You’re Oakley’s boyfriend!”

“Yeah! Are they already here?”

“I should hope so! Otherwise they’re late for their shift,” Edith chuckled. She turned round and called toward the back room. “Oakley, Duck’s here!”

At that news Oakley emerged from the back room dressed head to toe in what looked to be a bright blue and orange skydiving jumpsuit. They walked over to Duck with a small smile and gave his hand a squeeze. “Surprise,”

“This is an awesome date idea! I didn’t know we even had skydiving around here!” Duck looked round the facility excitedly, taking in all the people and equipment. “So are we gonna join a group for training or is it gonna be more of a one on one thing?”

“One on one,”

“Oh, did you meet our instructor already?”

“It’s me,”

Duck looked over at Oakley in confusion. “Wait… you know how to skydive already?”

Oakley nodded. “It’s my job,”

“Oakley’s one of our best instructors,” Edith said proudly, tucking away the binder she’d been looking through. “They’re always patient with their clients and great on the jumps. I bet you two will have a lot of fun!”

Duck looked at his paramour in disbelief. Of all the jobs he’d pictured for Oakley, skydiving instructor had never even made the list. This was so badass. A grin broke out on his face as he swung their joined hands back and forth in excitement. “This is so awesome! I can’t believe I’m dating a professional skydiver! Does that mean we get to skydive just the two of us, holding hands and spinning in circles and doing flips while we freefall?”

“Maybe next time. You’re gonna be strapped to my chest this time. This way,” Oakley motioned and walked toward the training equipment, not noticing that their boyfriend had gotten a bit flushed at that prospect.

Duck followed Oakley into the training room. There were various stations reflecting different levels of difficulty and training. Oakley took Duck over to the workout mats first. The first training steps consisted of learning the proper posture and positions for jumps. Since they were going to do a tandem jump Duck didn’t need to know as much about how to control his movements as he would on a solo jump, but he still asked plenty of questions even though for this jump they were solely theoretical. He already knew he wanted to master skydiving or at least be good enough to jump with Oakley as an equal, not just as a student.

Oakley was patient and calm throughout the entire process, answering all of Duck’s questions simply and succinctly. Their hands were steady as they guided Duck in maintaining his core strength and changing his shoulder and arm positioning. It was great to see them so comfortable. Usually unless it was just the two of them Oakley was fairly standoffish, preferring to keep within their own world. But as Duck continued his training with them, he realized this was Oakley’s world. This was where they excelled.

Once they were done on the mat, Oakley and Duck headed over to the indoor skydiving tunnel. According to Oakley this was an alternate attraction for people who didn’t want to go as far as jumping out of a plane to skydive just yet but still wanted that thrill. The tunnel was reserved for training purposes on Tuesday and Thursday mornings though, so for now they had it to themselves. Oakley led Duck through a short series of hand signals since speaking wouldn’t be possible within the tunnel then helped him get suited up with a helmet, goggles, gloves and a bright green and yellow jumpsuit that matched Oakley’s in design.

Indoor skydiving was a ton of fun all in itself. Edith stepped into the wind tunnel with them to help Duck get started, lifting him up so he was horizontal to the floor and wasn’t simply knocked over by the wind. It certainly wasn’t as simple as stepping in and flying skyward. Duck started on his stomach upon the tunnel floor, trying his best to follow Oakley’s hand signals to move his body in such a way that he could lift off the ground. It took many, many attempts. An hour passed before Duck even felt himself fully levitate off the ground. But the glee he felt in that moment and the full-fledged smile on Oakley’s face made all the struggles worth it.

Edith placed a sticker upon Duck’s chest after helping him out of the wind tunnel, a fluffy cloud with pilot wings upon it. “Well done, Duck. You’re one step closer to becoming an officially licensed skydiver yourself should that be something you’d like to pursue,”

“Oh, definitely! This has been so much fun!” Duck beamed as he reverently traced the sticker.

Edith smiled proudly. “Wonderful. We can talk future lessons later, but for now I think it’s time for you to make your first jump. The plane is ready to go when you are, just waiting for its last few passengers,” With that she headed off to her other duties, leaving Duck and Oakley to their own devices.

Duck felt a soft pressure upon his hand and looked down to see that Oakley was holding it. His paramour looked up at him expectantly. “Ready?”

“Absolutely!”

---

It was a small plane that took them up in the air, a Cessna 182. As Oakley had explained, they would ascend until they were at 10,000 feet then make the jump. The freefall portion of the jump would last about a minute before Oakley pulled the chute and they’d float down from there for 4-5 minutes before reaching the landing zone. There would be a bus waiting for them there to take them back to the main building.

Duck’s heart pounded as he sat on the plane, strapped in front with Oakley behind him. It was rather loud within the plane, the sounds of wind rushing against the sides of the plane a constant background noise. Pilot Pete was calm at the helm, checking in with his passengers from time to see that everyone was doing well. The plane only held a handful of people: two other skydiving instructors and their clients waited in relative silence to reach the drop zone.

Duck wished he could look back at Oakley and talk with them. Instead, he settled for the calming warmth of their hand in his. This whole time Duck had been riding off of the high of excitement at the thought of the jump. Now that they were actually approaching it though, he could feel his heart doing belly flops within his stomach. He was about to jump out of a moving plane. His mother would have a heart attack if she knew. Duck tried to calm himself by focusing on the sound of the plane and its engines. Who knew, maybe someday whenever he got his pilot’s license it could be him flying the plane while Oakley led the jumps. They could be at work together, take breaks and lunch together, and he could fly every day. The charm of that daydream made the time drift away till suddenly Duck heard the announcement.

“We’re approaching the drop zone,” Pete announced over the mic. One of the other instructors got up and opened the airplane’s door. The rushing sound of the wind filled all their ears as the passengers’ hair tousled back and forth wildly. Duck and Oakley would be the third ones to jump. Duck bit his lip as he watched the first instructor position themselves by the doorway, their client strapped to their front. This was real. They were going to jump.

A gasp inadvertently left Duck as he saw the first pair drop. Moments later the second pair was standing by the open door. This was all happening so fast. Oakley’s steps nudged him forward, positioning them as the next and last in line. Before Duck could mentally prepare himself, the second pair had jumped. It was their turn. A few steps forward and he stood at the front of the open plane door, gazing down at the patchwork of green so far below them.

“Ready?” Oakley shouted in his ear, giving Duck’s hand a final tight squeeze.

He couldn’t back out. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be brave for Oakley, no matter how scary this was. And they’d be together the whole way down. He wanted to do this, for himself too. “Y-yeah!”

“Remember to scream!” With those final words, Oakley jumped out of the airplane.

They were falling, plummeting faster than Duck had ever gone before. Air rushed past Duck’s ears as the canopy of green so far beneath them stretched as far as the eye could see. Duck let out a loud, prolonged yell, forcing the lump out of his throat and grounding him back into reality. He could breathe, just like Oakley had said. The yelling worked to remind him. He wasn’t even short of breath and he didn’t have that dropping feeling in his gut like rollercoasters and water park slides gave him. Instead everything around him was quiet and peaceful but also beautifully exhilarating: a moment of pure, unbridled joy. It was almost like he was floating. No, more than that… All of a sudden, the parachute was pulled. They shot upwards into the sky for a moment and with the rush of the wind gone, Duck heard Oakley’s words as they leaned towards his ear.

“You can fly!”

Duck felt his heart swell at those words. He’d been flying. Euphoric excitement coursed through his veins, an amalgamation of joy and love. The words Oakley had said reverberated in his mind. With three words they had said so much. That last date when Roy had embarrassed him and Duck had let his past spill out to Oakley he’d wondered if it had been too much to share then wondered when they gave no response if Oakley had even cared. But they’d heard it all: the pain of that nickname, the long-forgotten dream. This had been their answer. They’d helped Duck fly.

“Wanna try?” Oakley offered Duck the handles of the parachute.

Duck quickly took them, smiling to himself as Oakley’s hands came to rest on top of his own. “I can see why you like it up here!” he called back as they drifted down peacefully, gently guided this way and that by the pull of the handles.

“Everything makes sense in the sky!” Oakley’s words were shouted, but their quiet tone was the same as always.

“That’s why you brought me up here, right? So, the words Roy said wouldn’t matter anymore!”

“I did it because you belong up here, with me!”

Duck wished he could hug Oakley right now. Instead, he settled for squeezing their hands, knowing that hug would be coming soon enough once they reached the ground.

It was silent between them as they gently floated down, their focus on the beauty round them as the patchwork of greens slowly grew larger beneath them, eventually settling into one uniform deep green tone as the landing zone came into sight. Oakley took control of the handles once more, guiding the parachute to turn and angle into the wind to help slow their descent. The brake lines were pulled and their speed slowed more and more as they neared the field until all that remained as they touched down was to slide along the grass to an easy stop.

“Wow, I-” Duck was about to say more, but a quick kiss from Oakley upon his cheek froze him in his tracks. He was left sitting in stupefied joy as his paramour undid the straps connecting them and began the process of removing themselves from the parachute. He turned slightly to watch them work. Dating a skydiving instructor really was the coolest thing ever.

Once they were done, Oakley took Duck’s hands and helped him up. “The bus is over there,” They nodded in the direction of it, moving to head out when Duck squeezed their hands lightly, causing them to look up at him.

Duck was grinning from ear to ear. “This was the best date ever! There’s no way I can beat this one!” He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his love’s cheek. “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” The smile was clear on Oakley’s face even as their eyes were locked on the ground. “You’ll come again!”

“Oh, definitely! Like I said, I’m gonna become a skydiving master! Just you wait, soon we’ll be able to do all the badass skydiving tricks together!” Turning toward the bus, Duck continued to gush about all that he wanted to learn to do in skydiving while Oakley happily followed along, listening quietly. It had certainly been a date to remember, one that felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

[pollylynn]

Title: Inventory WC: 800

“Are you writing this down?”  — Lanie Parish, Secret’s Safe With Me (5 x 03)

He’s curious about her stuff, non-euphemistically speaking. Euphemistically speaking he has embarked on a world tour of her stuff, and that’s going swimmingly. But with the last of his daughter’s Leave @ Home boxes hoisted up on to her bedroom closet shelf, out of self-perseveration, he turns to contemplating the stuff of the most important woman in his life, non–blood relative category. 

He spends some quality time on the box labeled Kinky Past—this is about self-preservation and saving himself from the endless cycle of mope—but that’s not what he’s interested in tonight, beyond steady background interest in the name Kate Beckett and the word Kinky in close proximity. 

He’s interested in her box of medals for things only a parent would think to celebrate. He’s interested in the stash of Stuyvesant year books that she must have secreted away somewhere, and he is  very interested in the parade of nineties looks contained therein. 

He’d like to rifle through her stuff alongside her and see what she’s tucked away because it’s too painful to have within easy reach. He’d like to nudge her in the direction of celebrating some of those things, because even on the worst day . . . He’d very much like to help her find the joy in some of those things that have been painful for so long. 

But as much as he’s in “stuff” mode, just now, he also wants her stories. He wants to know when her parents had The Talk with her, and how bad her dad was at. He wants to console her by saying that at least her version of The Talk was—presumably—did not involve Martha Rodgers and her epic tendency to overshare. 

He’d like to hear about Stanford and how she even managed to get her stuff all the way across the country. He wants to know if she flew alone, or if one or both of her parents came. In a fit of inspiration, he conjures a road trip—just her and her mother with an utterly imaginary station wagon that’s easily two decades too old for a late-nineties teenager.  

He wants to know if she was homesick, and if she’d brought a beloved stuffed animal, a blanket, or some other bit of contagious magic with her. He wonders if her dad would have sent her off with a nightlight that she’d only discover long after her parents were gone. He wants to hear the full and complete saga of Debbie Winnaker, her dorm room, and how she got through that. 

He’s grateful for what she’s shared with him tonight. The stickman is the ideal intersection of of stuff and story, and it delights him how quickly that all turned around—how quickly she’d gone from genuine irritation that he’d been rooting around in her drawers, to shyly sharing with him that memory. He’s grateful for all that, but it’s managed to whet his appetite—that, and he’s deep into self-preservation mode, and thinking about all this has taken his mind off the reality of his empty nest for ten seconds at a time. 

He decides he’s paced the echoing floorboards of the loft—upstairs and down—quite long enough. He fishes out his phones and calls her. She answers before the first ring is finished, which might mean she’s worried about him. It might mean he’s about to milk the situation for all it’s worth. 

“Hey. How’re things over there?” 

Her opening gambit is soft and noncommittal. She is definitely concerned. She wants to help. and he is feeling sorry enough for himself that he’s prepared to exploit that in pursuit of stuff, in pursuit of story. He is feeling sorry enough for himself that he escalates right away. 

“Not good,” he sighs theatrically. “Pretty sure there are monsters under the bed.” 

“Well, that’s a new development.” She laughs. “No monsters I saw that time we rolled right off the edge of the bed.” 

“New and alarming,” he agrees. ”If only there were someplace monster-free I could go.” He pouts hard enough that it absolutely must register on the other end of the line. 

“Well,” she sighs and gives his theatrics quite the run for their money. “Guess that rules out my place.”  

“You have a monster under your bed?” He feigns shock. “Are under-bed monsters contagious, do you think? Did I give you monsters?” 

“No,” she says seriously, and her voice is well into the once upon a time mode. “My monster followed me home from the hospital after I was born.” 

It’s the last thing he expects of her—a story like this offered up. He settles himself one of his oversized leather chairs. He shivers pleasantly and settles in. 

“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me all about it.” 

A/N: Monsters are not a thing for sure

images via homeofthenutty

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

Let’s Burn the World Down - AUgust Day 6

Title: Let’s Burn the World Down

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Background relationships: Bucky/Natasha, Steve/Sam

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Tony falls in love with the guy he keeps meeting in the ER. Too bad the guy already has a girlfriend... or does he?

+++++++++++

For a billionaire, Tony has to go to the hospital very often. Whether it’s a lab accident, a car accident, an assassination attempt, and/or anything else, Tony finds himself in the ER at least once a month. His insurance is higher than his standards, which isn’t saying much, Tony surmises, because he’s halfway in love with the guy he sees almost every time he goes.

 They’ve seen each other so frequently that they’ve started nodding to each other and saying, “What are you in for?” like they do in the movies at the police station.

 Although he’s being truthful, Tony knows that most of his incidents sound very made up. “Oh, they sent someone to assassinate me, but I managed to flirt my way out of it with only a stab wound.” “My lab exploded.” “My robot dropped a steel sheet on my foot.” “I tripped on something and fell off my porch to the porch below.” But he is even more disbelieving of this man’s injuries.

The guy says stuff like “I shot myself with a boomerang arrow.” “I was skydiving with my dog and my parachute got caught on a tree branch, and an eagle attacked me.” “I think that pizza I ate was too old.” “My old circus buddy tried to kill me. He failed.” “I fell out of the vents, and the bad guys beat me up.”

 Today Tony comes in because he had to jump through a window to avoid Sunset Bain. He now has glass sticking out of his side, and he’s sitting calmly until a doctor can see him. The man limps in, bloody and skin mangled on his leg. The others in the ER gasp as he signs in and takes a seat beside Tony. “Hey man, what you in for?” He asks.

 “Jumped out a window to avoid my ex.”

 “Mood.” The man nods sagely. “I just battled a cougar and won. Before you ask, yes it was the cat kind, although I don’t doubt that a middle-aged woman couldn’t do this if she was rejected.” He gestures to his leg. Tony barks out a laugh.

 “Oh, they could. Trust me. By the way, I never got your name. Or did you want to stay anonymous?” Tony asks.

 The man shakes his head. “We’d go great no matter how we do it. Name’s Clint.”

 “I’m Tony.”

“Yea, I know.” When Tony looks at him, surprised, Clint pats his shoulder placatingly. “You’ve got these people fooled with your greasy shirts and hats, but I never forget a face. Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. But why do you come to this crappy ER all the time? Aren’t you supposed to go to the ones that are made for rich people?”

 Tony shrugs. Truthfully, the first couple time he came, it was because he had happened to be in the neighborhood when disaster struck. He had struck up conversation with Clint, and he decided that if he were able to talk with him, Tony would keep coming to this ER. “I don’t know. I’m in the area a lot, I guess.”

 Tony gets that he has problems. He knows that he quickly falls in love with anyone who will show him kindness or even just the time of day because he didn’t get enough love and attention from his parents as a child. He goes to therapy, and he does make an effort to figure out which people are being nice only because they want something, which people are just simply being nice, and which people are flirting. It’s still hard sometimes, like now. He doesn’t think Clint wants something because 1.) he just said that he won’t rat Tony out and 2.) he could have taken Tony’s wallet very easily many times. But is Clint just a nice dude, or does he like Tony?

 A nurse gets Tony just as another comes for Clint. Tony lies on his side for far too long as they pull glass from his body. When he’s cleared to go, the doctor tells him, “You have to be more careful, Mr. Stark. You’re not invincible, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

 “Thanks Doc. I’ll do my best.” He shakes the man’s hand.

 On his way out, he sees Clint talking to a beautiful redhead. She is reaming him out in Russian, calling him and idiot and a few other unsanitary words. Clint tries to console her, but she grabs his hand and pushes him into her car. She speeds off, still shouting in Russian. Tony’s heart drops. He has no chance with Clint now. No one would give up a woman like her for him unless they wanted something.

 The next time Tony gets hurt, he goes to the ER near his home. He is in and out shortly, but Tony feels incomplete. He misses the easy camaraderie with Clint. I can still joke with him as friends, right? There’s no harm in that. He reasons, but he chickens out the next time, when he accidentally burns his arm with his blowtorch, and then when he gets shot. This keeps happening until it has been at least three months since he last saw Clint.

 Tony gets drunk in a bar | in Brooklyn. Very, very drunk. The thing about being a Stark – you can hold your liquor very well, and even when you are so drunk most people black out, you can still walk and talk albeit hindered a little. Well, Tony is that drunk, and this is when he tends to overshare. He’s telling the bartender, a beefy man with long brown hair, about Clint. “So, there’s this guy, you know. Only time I see him is when I go to the ER. He’s really cute, he’s got like tons of biceps, and he’s funny. We used to see each other all the time, and I think I love him. But one time, I saw him, and he had a girlfriend. Super, smoking hot redhead – like I don’t even stand a chance. So, I’ve been avoiding him. It’s dumb because he doesn’t know I like him, and I keep convincing myself that I can still talk to him as friends and such, but then my brain just tells me he has a girlfriend, and I end up going to an ER near my house. You know?”

 “Not really.” The bartender grins. “But I’m not an ER regular.”

“That’s too bad. It’s fun there sometimes.” Tony pats his hand somberly. “Sometimes we freak people out with our injuries. But we’re calm. It happens so much that we’re just like ‘meh’.  The doctor told me to be careful because I wasn’t invincible, and I was like ‘ok, I’ll tell my enemies to stop trying to kill me. I hope it works.’”

 The bartender throws back his hand and laughs. Tony drains his glass of Scotch and asks for another. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asks. What was his name? Barney? Barn?

 “Barnes!” Yells someone from the other end of the bar. “I need a mimosa stat!”

 “Shut your whore mouth Wilson!” Barnes yells back. “I’m not serving you anything after what you and Steve put me though last night!” He turns back to Tony. “The dude’s dating my step-brother, and our walls aren’t soundproofed. I hate them so much.”

 “I could soundproof your walls for you.” Tony offers. He’s not sure why he offered, but he did. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

 “Thanks for the offer, but Nat and I will get them back at some point. Maybe we’ll do it on the couch.” Barnes grins. “Someone else can make Sam’s mimosa. Wanda’s working that end of the bar anyways.” He gives Tony one more Scotch and says, “This is your last one. I’m going to have to cut you off because I don’t want you to die.”

 Tony quietly sips on his drink while Barnes makes other drinks. Once done, he stuffs a few hundreds in the tip jar and turns to leave when a scarlet-haired woman sits on the stool beside him. Tony blinks at her for a second, thinking that she looks familiar. Barnes’ face lights up, and he comes over to her. “Hey, come here often?” He asks, fake seductively.

 “Don’t be an idiot,” She tells him and pulls his face in for a kiss. Tony realizes why he thinks she looks familiar. She’s Clint’s girlfriend!

He spins on his stool to face them. “You bitch!” He yells at her, then clamps a hand over his mouth as Barnes growls a warning. “I am so sorry. I don’t know your situation. You could have broken up with him, or hey, you’re a threesome, or an open relationship. I’m sorry. I was just caught up… and I’ll just go.”

 Tony stumbles off the stool and heads out of the bar. Mind swirling with liquor and shame, he doesn’t notice he’s in the street or the ugly purple car headed towards him until it’s too late. Frozen, he stares down the lights until the car smacks into him.

 Lying on the ground, the last thing he remembers is a person jumping out and yelling, “What are you doing, you idiot? Tony?”

 Tony wakes up in a strange place. He feels like he should be in the hospital, but he’s not. Looking around, he sees a lot of… purple. “Ugh, no one should have this much purple anything,”

 “I take offense to that.” A voice says. Wait… that’s Clint. Tony wildly tries to sit up, and Clint comes into his line of vision. “Hey, hey lie back down! I don’t think anything’s broken, but you should probably just let your body rest for a while.”

 “What happened?”

 “I hit you with my car because you were standing in the middle of the street. Why were you standing in the middle of the street?” Clint looks worried.

 Tony tries to wave him off. “You know, just for the thrill.”

 “Tony, most things I do are just for the thrill, and I know it’s idiotic to stand in the middle of the street.”

 “Yeah well, the thing I did before it was idiotic, too, so I’m pretty good at that.” Tony sighs. He doesn’t really want to get into it because Clint will probably make him leave. Tony’s good at leaving. Everyone makes him leave after they learn his true self. Ah, well, what does he have to lose but the love of his life?

 “So, last time we were both at the ER, I saw the woman who picked you up. I guess I just figured you were dating the way you both interacted with each other,” Tony explains. “Well, at the bar last night, she came in and made out with the bartender. I called her a bitch because my first thought was that she was cheating on you. Then I remembered that it had been three months, and I didn’t really know anything about you – you might have broken up, or were poly, or open relationship. Point is, I’m an idiot who speaks before he thinks then faces the consequences, even if they’re not direct.” He is very confused when Clint starts to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

 “I can’t believe you called Natasha a bitch and still live to tell the story.” Clint says between gasps. “That’s fuckin hilarious. I am sorry that I hit you with my car.”

 Tony is thoroughly confused, and Clint takes pity on him. “Natasha is dating Bucky, the bartender. She’s my best friend and confidante. She gets angry when I do stupid things, but I still do them. We are not dating, never have, and never will. Hopefully, that clears things up.”

 “A little.” Tony just feels disoriented. This is not something he has ever had to deal with before.  

 There’s a knock at the door. This “Natasha” pokes her head in. “Hey Clint, is he ok?”

 “Yea, come in. Tony meet Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is Tony Stark.” Clint gestures to the both of them.

 Natasha smirks. “Hi Tony.”

 “Hi,” He says weakly. “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch. I sometimes talk before I think, and I’m sorry.”

 “Just don’t do it again. Are you guys hungry? Bucky’s making blini.”

 Clint nods. “Tell him I love him. We’ll take two plates. You like blini, right?” He directs the question at Tony.

 “I think so. I’ve only had them once or twice,” Tony says. When Natasha leaves, he tells Clint, “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”

 “Well this is my room, so I want to stay here. By the way, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to think you took my fancy ER comment seriously.”

 Tony grimaces. “Well, it’s a long story. But I did end up going to the ER near my house a couple times. It’s hard to get no injuries in the stuff I do.”

 “Well, I don’t blame you for going to the uber fancy ERs, you know, because there’s better service or whatever. But if you do, can we hang out somewhere other than the ER, then? I kind of missed you, man.” Clint looks at Tony earnestly.

 “The main reason I stopped going to our ER is that I saw you with Natasha and thought, ‘how could I ever compete?’ I would tell myself to just go. I could talk to you as a friend, and not me crushing on you, but I always psyched myself out when I got hurt, and I just went to the ER by my house.”

 “You’re crushing on me? Wow. I did not know that. I crushed on you the first day I saw you, and I thought you were just being nice. I’m a dumpster fire on my best days.”

 Tony shoots him a wicked grin. “Then let’s burn down the world together.” 

[austennerdita2533]

Vivid yet bizarre dreams seem to be the new norm for me as of late, and I don't know why?

Last night, for instance, I dreamt I wound up in some sort of overcrowded dusky world that was wedged in a dimension between dead and alive after I followed an injured dog into a barren forest. The dog vanished like a specter into the brush, and that was where Lucifer/Hades (aka: Tom Ellis) and I met for the first time. Calculating, sly, he charmed me into accompanying him into this wait-station-bar-of sorts.

At first, I didn't understand the purpose of my presence there except that I was required to report to the goofy wardens/owners, Nick and Jess from New Girl. I befriended them immediately, winning them over by helping to straighten a tapestry of bed spokes that were hanging on the back wall of the place. (Yes, bed spokes. Just go with it.) Grateful for my assistance, for my cheerfulness and friendliness, they awarded me special privileges. Not only was I exempt from the tasks other "stuck" residents were required to complete but I was welcomed at the Head table at dinner, was gifted a car to sleep in/share with Mindy Kaling at nighttime when the weather was cold and unrelenting, and was included in the inner circle of jokes and secrets with them all.

However, things became more peculiar the longer I was there. Grew more intense.

Lucifer/Hades kept appearing wherever I tread, sharing anecdotes, whispering little seductive nothings in my ear, twirling me to music that wasn't really there...

I was suspicious of the attention. Suspicious yet intrigued. Flattered. He wanted something from me but I couldn't deduce what it was so I Sherlocked my way to the truth, and opened an investigation.

As it turned out, I was able to squeeze the truth out of Nick and Jess without much effort. They were oversharers, anyway, so from them, I learned Lucifer/Hades had brought me to the Wait Station Bar inititally for one reason, and for one reason only: the unique colors of my soul aura had captivated him in the forest and he was determined to add it/me to his collection in the Underworld no matter what. To acquire those colors in any manipulative underhanded way he could.

I didn't know it at the beginning but that was his schtick--he was the Collector of Souls in handsome disguise. The devil, he bartered away people's lives!

He tempted with lust, with seduction. He shucked vibrant soul-auras off people's backs because he knew he could, content to cackle "I own you" all through the rest of their ethereal existence, which would be forever once a deal was brokered.

Once I arrived, though, he slowly began to change tactics. He veered from expectation, his master plan disintegrating point by point. Manipulation gave way to earnestness, cunning transformed into spontaneity, and covetous desires became selfless actions because he couldn't take what he wanted any more than he could stay away from me.

Yep, you guessed right--the fool fell in love with me!

Lucifer/Hades eventually convinced himself not to take my soul by force but to win my hand and heart willingly, securing me as his Underworld bride.

Nick and Jess officiated the wedding. There were toasts of champagne and whiskey. After both of couples kissed - me and Lucifer/Hades, Nick and Jess - I woke up.

Y'ALL. I COMPOSED AN ENTIRELY WEIRD, COHESIVE FANTASY NARRATIVE IN MY SLEEP.

I feel that maybe...just maybe...I should be worried about my brain? Don’t you think?