#perma-rage

[ceevee5]

“The Chinese this week unveiled an ultra-deepwater drillship that will be able to plumb twice the depth at which the Titanic rests, though that still leaves the Conservative poll rating just beneath its reach. With the country settling into a kind of perma-rage that nothing much works any more, there is something mesmeric about the government’s attempts to insist its dignity hasn’t been compromised, and that it has taken back control of the taking back control. The party’s chaos machine has spewed out just the three prime ministers this year, yet Sunak’s appearance before the liaison committee this week appeared to downplay this farce to the equivalent of a few substitutions in your shopping order … for all the dysfunction and breakdown taking place out there in the place we call reality, Sunak comes across as a sort of prime ministerial chat tool, a state-of-the-art robot whose learned responses are uncannily human-adjacent, but divorced from any sense he meaningfully gets any of it. “I’m really, really robust,” he told the liaison committee, which feels like the sort of thing Alexa’s software throws up after a slight pause when your kids ask it a rude question.”

[mintygreencake]

You cannot tell me Auron doesn't have "Knuck if you buck" by Crime Mod in his playlist

He was on demon time when he beat the break of Derek, I just know he had at least one ear pod in blast that shit. It better be on beat too 💀

Look at his ass, he was plottin', he was ready to boom another mf he was just waiting for the opportunity 😭

[sesamestreep]

it ain’t much but it’s honest work

[pigeonplays]

also if this means cc creators are gonna all start using adfly again i swear to GOD i will light this place on fire

[lizardpersonyknow]

. Okay I am so incredibly normal about the idea that the "pit rage" isn't a thing. just straight up. it's Jason being the victim of multiple heavy traumas and wanting to prevent others from going through that (literally Batman's origin but shhhhh somehow ppl never talk about that). I wanna see where batman asks constantine about it and he's like "yea give some therapy to the kid" GIVE THE MAN SOME AUTONOMY. like yes he beat up tim. yes he's also a murderer. and?? batman don't care that wonder woman kills. he has a philosophy but he's like a chill religion with it. he stopped dick from murder because he was 11. you can kill when u r legal that's his rule to me. that's why tim has so much angst he's perma 17. never allowed villainy. I'd secretly kill 500 people too.

[whathebeep]

Okay so like the perma death of Tav and how it would affect the party-

Just cause my Tav died during the end boss and it got me thinking (SPOILERS FOR SURE) (definitely romance centric around poly Tav/Astarion/Halsin)

The party definitely doesn't fully comprehend it at first. Oh it's fine, Shadowheart has revivify- no? It won't work? Right okay we have the scrolls- oh. Okay well we can bring them back to Withers- what do you mean you can't?

That's it. That's the end, and Tav is dead and gone, cold to the touch.

Astarion is in shock. He doesn't believe it, won't believe it- he gets angry at Withers. Yells and screams until his voice his hoarse and angry hot tears are running down his face until he drops to his knees and sobs. Tav's body is on a bed or a stone slab, and he just kneels and cries next to Tav. Squeezes their hand, begs, pleads with them for you to come back. Don't take them, take me- let them live, let them stay, I can't do this without them. Halsin stays with him, by your side, the two comforting each other through their tears and the loss of their love. He cries until he's weak and tired and can't bring himself to move- Halsin feeds him and brings him to bed. He cries at the smell of you on his pillow; you were his sun and now you were gone.

Gale is quiet. Gale comforts the others, makes sure everyone else's needs are being met. He makes Tav's favourite meal that night for everyone at camp- probably something like a nice hearty stew with potatoes and beef. After he's sure everyone else is fed and has drank water/blood, he returns to his tent to eat alone. He closes his tent and quietly cries. He doesn't eat.

Wyll? Wyll carries Tav back to camp- perhaps with the help of Lae'zel. He feels how cold your skin is, and he does his best to hold it together. He sees how deep your wounds are, how blue your lips are. He's unsure if you died before you hit the water, or if you succumbed to your injuries before Halsin pulled you out- but he feels the weight in his chest. You were a hero. Baldur's Gate deserved the privilege to know your face, to hear your laughter. You would've been knighted, you would be a hero to the people. They couldn't of done it without you, and now you were gone. He knew it before they even reached Withers. Wyll didn't sleep that night, rather staying up and tending to the fire.

Shadowheart knew it too. When she tries to revivify Tav and there was nothing, she knew there was no hope. She lingered when the party started back to camp with your body. Shadowheart made her way back to the now empty house of grief and picks night orchids. She takes her time coming back. Camp is quiet when she returns. She feels the familiar wisps of sorrow grasping at the edge of her mind- she is reminded of Shar, and the urge to forget. She won't go back- both for herself and for you. She brings you the night orchids and leaves them in your hands.

Halsin pulled you from the water. He was the first to realize you hadn't surfaced and swam down for you. Minsc realized quickly too and helped him bring you back to shore. Upon the return to camp and the cold hard truth from Withers, he's hurting. His heart hurts. Halsin falls into old habits, hard. He comforts Astarion first and foremost, putting his needs second. He did this at the grove, too. He realizes this and finally breaks, crying as he holds Astarion, the two at your bedside. He lets them fall, he hugs Astarion close, he prays to Silvanus- not to bring you back- he of course knows you are gone. He prays to Silvanus to meet you someday again, be it in the afterlife or if your soul comes back to this plane as something else. When Astarion is too weak to move and needs to go to his bed, Halsin carries him back to his tent. He holds Astarion as Astarion feeds on him, before laying him down to sleep. He leaves, returning with wildflowers to weave into your hair, before returning to bed with Astarion.

Karlach rages. She's violent for hours on end- punching trees, her upgraded engine burning so hot that her tears sizzle if they fall on her skin. She spent 10 years in the hells, 10 goddamn years with absolutely no one- you were the first person to give her a chance. You were her friend. You stood up for her time and time again, you saved her from needing to go back- and now you're gone. She punches a tree and scratches at it and yells angry things in infernal. Her rage only simmers when Scratch and your owlbear cub come to her- she collapsed against the tree and holds them both, crying as her engine starts to cool.

Lae'zel is quiet. She helps Wyll carry you back- she might not be the best at reading emotions, at telling what is happening- but she's seen death before. She realized you were gone when Minsc and Halsin pulled you out. You were a hero- you saved her people, you saved her prince, you saved /her/. And now you were gone. She wonders if you felt as scared as she was, when the tadpole was the greatest threat to them back on the Nautiloid. She knows she didn't say it, but she considered you a true friend. She comes to you later in the night to lay your weapon in your hands. She notices the orchids, and leaves them within your hands as well before going to sit at the fire with Wyll. She's quiet.

Minsc? Minsc is optimistic. He's not stupid- he holds out hope you'll be fine, reassuring the others while they walk back to camp. Surely you were fine, Withers would make sure of it! But when Withers tells everyone the truth, Minsc isn't angry. He feels the sadness, Boo does too- they go to the shore and sit to stare at the water. Minsc has been around for awhile- he knows the finality of death. He, in a way, knows Tav will be okay. That you will return as a bird or a baby or maybe you won't, and you'll await them all in the final death- and he and Boo mourn you.

Jaheira is the one to arrange the coffin for Tav. She's familiar with the process- she's done it many times before for Harpers. She's gone all night getting an oak coffin for your burial, and returns with a few men in the early hours of the next morning. They move Tav into the coffin, careful not to disturb the weapon you held and the numerous flowers. Jaheira sheds tears for you- she brings you medicine, laying the plants in your casket around your head. Lilacs and lavender, cedar and sage cradle Tav's head in the coffin. She thanks you for the lives you saved, the ones you've avenged- for doing what you could.

When the funeral happens, the cathedral is full. When the dust settled and word of your deeds, of your battle, of your sacrifice spread across the city, hundreds come to mourn Tav. Tav the great, Tav the hero, Tav the brainslayer. Tav is knighted before the burial, and is buried in a cemetery in the upper city amongst other heroes of Baldur's Gate. Church bells ring, and taverns are filled with people drinking and singing in Tav's honour. Bards have somehow already come up with songs of Tav and the group- and truly, while the party will remain together, their hearts bleed for the leader they lost.

[matthewtkachuk]

bad at love

Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.

pairing: jt compher x reader

warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3

It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last. 

It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you. 

Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado. 

If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’. 

Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count. 

It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way. 

JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house. 

The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?

You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid. 

But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely. 

Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you. 

By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours. 

Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes. 

-

Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy. 

At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level. 

It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law. 

Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it. 

JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit. 

It warms your heart. 

So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate. 

The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway. 

The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander. 

-

Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena. 

Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell. 

Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility. 

The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier. 

‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass. 

He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs. 

“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”

Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy. 

“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff. 

JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”

Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.” 

He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot. 

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”

You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”

Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.

Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces. 

You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you. 

Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16. 

Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?

Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer. 

He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move. 

It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners. 

The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy. 

He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed. 

If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire. 

You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more. 

He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper. 

Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate. 

You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently. 

“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth. 

“It’ll be worth the wait.” 

And worth the wait it is. 

-

It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices. 

It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too. 

It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you. 

You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure. 

It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other. 

You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign. 

Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan. 

Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up. 

-

A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed. 

It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life. 

There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie. 

That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants. 

“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is. 

He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”

His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you. 

“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed. 

He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”

You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”

“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush. 

“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss. 

You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again. 

He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing. 

“I need—“

Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body. 

He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast. 

Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs. 

Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone. 

There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises. 

Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too. 

The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths. 

You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch. 

“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him. 

It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better. 

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips. 

Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him. 

He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm. 

It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too. 

Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up. 

When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”

“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs. 

The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery. 

Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall. 

You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake. 

Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with. 

Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying. 

“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.�� 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap. 

Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”

JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”

“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”

“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless. 

Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”

JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”

A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.” 

Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing. 

The reality of the situation hits you. 

“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”

“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life. 

“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply. 

“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”

Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

-

In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time. 

“He loves you,” she says. 

You’re not so sure. 

That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here. 

It’s not all bad though. 

Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities. 

You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?

He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school. 

Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat. 

“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be. 

“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.” 

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.” 

It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away. 

The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same. 

Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red. 

It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist. 

In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded. 

“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head. 

Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit. 

It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up. 

Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled. 

One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…

When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan. 

“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone. 

“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”

“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts. 

You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”

He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked. 

True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass. 

You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours. 

“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”

The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back. 

His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”

Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again. 

“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact. 

“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head. 

You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury. 

“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”

Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”

“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.” 

It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist. 

The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door. 

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again. 

“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.” 

“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial. 

“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug. 

Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone,  it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother. 

[nova--spark]

Starting yet another post of angst today because this was on the backburner a while but

As I'm sure everyone's read my previous post of OP's Perma-Tear tracks on his face.

Well, I wanted to talk about Megatron today.

In the lore of TFP/Aligned, we see just how much anger and rage he has built up, and with how his frame is cracked, you would see immediately, as if it was battle damage right?

Well, I would like to state it to also be tear tracks.

Tears of rage, betrayal, anger and grief, to contrast the tears of sorrow, of sadness and melancholy that mark OP's face.

Because when you are wholly unrighteously angry, you do start to cry, I know I have in the past when pissed off to my breaking point.

And we even see, when he was just Megatronus, friend of Orion, he did not have those scars, those tears of rage.

[Got my Artbook out for this image specifically]

This warrior of Kaon, gladiator , warlord too walks with the scarred remnants of rageful tears on his face, as if they were scars of battle, that he makes no effort to hide.

The tears of a victim from an unjust system, of someone pushed too far to the point of madness blinded by a near uncurbed wrath.

And you see them marked a bit further, when noting his transformation by Unicron too, how more lines on his face look like dried tears.

Tears of sacrifice, that gave everything, and lost it all. Gained nothing but pain in the end, too blinded by anger and pride to find the solution before him all along.

[irisbaggins]

So, here's the thing: I don't think Cassandra is perma-dead, especially not with the phrasing of her being "back at my side". She can't back again if she's never been there before. I suspect it's like it was with the Nightmare King, after he was defeated. Cassandra, however, is herself this time, not a malevolent creature beyond her control. I suspect Cassandra may yet still be able to return, but it depends on if Kristen can forgive herself, and be able to see herself as strong enough to be Cassandra's Cleric. That rage, it's significant, and there's something going on that we don't know. I still think Cassandra can be saved, but this time it's not just from herself, but also from the forces that we still don't know the motive of.

But, I am terrified for Kristen. Of what all of this will mean for her. She is in danger, in more ways than one. And I hope above all, that Cassandra and Kristen can meet again, and find peace amongst themselves once more. They deserve to be happy, and I hope they get that.

[ethruia]

ONE NIGHT ONLY

college-student!haechan x fem!reader

— three years since your falling out with lee donghyuck he has suddenly transfered to your college in hopes to make it big with his friends in his band. unfortunately for you, your unresolved friendship started causing problems between you and the people around you, especially since your best friend is his ex. so — why have you found yourself in his room with a raging hangover?

genres; secret relationship, slight enemies to lovers, college au, angst, fluff, crack/humor, band au

warnings; profanity, mentions of alcohol and substances, mentions of sexual activity (no actual smut), death jokes + sexual innuendos, characters are works of fiction and are not an actual representation of the people that are used

characters; members of nct dream + yangyang from wayv, mentions of other nct members, jake of enhypen, aespa, anton from riize + any other idols not specified at this time

notes; this is my second smau ever and the first was in like 2020 pls bare with me here + the smau name is named after the song by sonder!

profiles 1 | profiles 2

1. he’s perma holding a fart

[dudeyjench]

my 10-step journey through ally clocking that people (Lucy, Yolanda) who refused resurrection via the nameless god of rage were marked and left for perma-dead:

1. YOOO WHEN THAT ADHD BRAIN COMES THROUGHHHH *GOD* ally what a SWISH

2. NODS FROM ESTEEMED SCHOLARLY PEERS SIOBHAN AND MURPH A BANNER DAY FOR CHAOS ALLY.

3. kay yolanda IS so cool and principled, rip that cool wise floaty lady who did not balk in the face of death

4. and LUCY so BRAVE just a KID sticking to her guns despite ALL her friends hitting the go button on rage-surrection!

5. haha ya, lucy was such a sweet and strong self-knowing person. she was so kind and soft.

6. lucy just … wanted to stay kind and soft.

7. … : / *sigh*

8. … : <

9. :((

10. ; ______ ; LUCY JUST WANTED TO STAY KIND AND SOFT

[oops-all-concrete]

BG3 fandom! I have more headcanons- but first!!

I must issue a very loud

⚠️SPOILER WARNING⚠️

For The Dark Urge playthrough of Baldurs Gate 3! There is no further warning below the cut, so if you care not to be spoiled, do not continue to read!

For those of you interested- ahead lies: Angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, blood, mentions of death, no MCD or any perma-death anyway, and lots of love. Greif and pain and emotional hurt are heavy themes as well!

Last warning! ⚠️Spoilers ahead⚠️

I've just gotten to this point in the Dark Urge run (where you reject Bhaal and fucking) DIE, and DUDE- I am stunned companions say NOTHING to your LITERAL DEATH after rejecting Bhaals gift or whatever. (Not in the scenes anyway) So, I'm writing how I think they'd respond cinematically, because your lively Durges deserve to be mourned and loved.

(Of course in-game this would be limited to the dialogue, but I've describes how they would be animated anyhow)

Lae'zel -

She's running to Durge the moment they start lifting from the ground, but pauses once their eyes start rolling back and blackening. There's something beyond her control happening, and she needs it to stop- and it does. With Tav hitting the floor eyes black, soul gone. She's immediately yelling at the others to do something, hand her a scroll, something- but nothing is working. Her shoulder slump after a good few minutes. And finally her voice breaks. She holds a hand to her chest as she wails in agony, holding her Tavs body like it's the last time- because to her- it is. "My angel, my moon. My great protector. I have failed you" She hisses, eyes scrunched shut.

Shadowheart -

She's been afraid her whole life. But even in the face of Bhaal, she will not be afraid if it means Tav will be safer. She immediately casts warding bond, if they're in danger, she'll halve it. If you're going to get hurt, so shall she- and she's okay with that. "Hang on-!" And then it all goes black, she falls without a word or scream, but she's content. If she dies protecting Durge, she cannot ask for better.

(After cutscene convo) Once Durge has been revived by Withers, it's up to them to get a scroll and revive her from the bloodied mess on the floor. She's stunned and confused, but the moment she sees Tav okay she couldn't care less. Why did you do that? "It might sound silly, but I was scared that you would be alone through whatever was about to happen. I don't regret it, if you're wondering"

Wyll -

"Gods- NO!" He shouts, a hand reaching out for them as they hit the ground. He's over them in a flash, holding their head in his arms, trying desperately to wake them, find a pulse, wake up himself and have this all be some sick nightmare. But of course, no such thing happens. The Tav he knows and loves just ceased living before his eyes. There's blood soaking into his every apparel and he's crying his eye out. It crosses his mind. Mizora is powerful- even if she can't fix this, she will know someone or something that can. He'd give anything- his whole life, he'd gladly be a lemure if it gave Tav back. He almost calls for her- until Withers starts his speech. (During the 'your rejection of Bhaal has earned you a place among heroes' section of his dialogue, he'll turn to Wyll and add: 'No devil's, demons or feinds required, I assure you')

Karlach -

If she wasn't raging before, she is now. A tomb-rocking scream echoes around the chamber, eyes wide with horror, body shaking and burning all over, engine out of control but she couldn't care less. One of the others will tell her to calm down. "FUCK THAT! FUCK EVERYTHING! FUCK THE GODS ABOVE AND THE HELLS BELOW." She roars. It goes on, swearing, screaming, swinging- and then, finally- collapse. She drops to her knees and punches the hard ground next to Tavs body, sobbing and exhausted. Withers walks in the the most gut-wrenching agonised scream of why

Gale -

He's frozen as it happens. His hands crackle with weave but he can't move. He needs to do something- anything, but time moves without him. All he knows is he can't breathe, all he can smell is blood and he thinks he's going to be sick. He can hear invisible bones cracking, distant blood dripping and their last choke. The wizard stumbles forward, barely making it to their body before collapsing beside them, on his knees and positively glowing from the mark on his chest. The orb can sense his distress and buzzes within him, as though it can smell the death. He pulls and hand to his mouth, kissing it gently- unable to comprehend a kiss goodbye. "Oh- Gods. Oh my love" he sobs, brows furrowed in what looks like physical pain. "I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." He wheezes out, scarcely finding breath.

Astarion -

He doesn't let their head hit the ground. He's swift as he catches them, but frantic as he sets their head on his thighs as a pillow. He pulls open their eyelids only to find a blackened core beneath, animalistic and distinctly unfamiliar. "Wake up, damn you...not after all this! You don't get to go!" He yells sounding genuinely furious- like he was going to get violent. If any of the others approach he doesn't notice. "We still have a cult to cull, we have a brain to control- I need you!" He yells, voice raw and eyes wet, the anger melting into greif. He makes a sheild of himself over Durge when Withers walks in, dagger/shortsword in hand, teeth bared, despite his damp face.

(Withers greets Astarion: 'Cry no more Spawn of sanguine- the universe is finally in your favour')

(Only Halsin is romanced for obvious reasons, but closeness is still implied for Minsc and Jaheira)

Halsin -

He catches Durge on the way down, their head on his chest as he lays them down over himself. "My heart? Can you hear me? Please say something" He begs hands glowing with healing magic, eyes aglow as well. He tries for a little, but then his breathing changes entirely, a small hushed gasp sounds from him, his he starts shaking his head, eyes wide. "Oh- oh Gods- Silvannus, please- I cannot bear to lose- oh Gods" He gasps, breath becoming harsher- finally letting tears fall. "Oak Father- please, wherever they go- keep them safe" he prays, teeth gritted in agony.

Jaheira -

She looks away as Tavs life is sapped away, unable to watch another Bhaalspawn friend suffer. When all falls still and silent, she looks among the other companions, shocked and frozen. "They're at peace now. Take comfort in knowing they chose to keep you all safe." She says with a proud nod- but her eyes are wet and her nose scrunched a little with a sniff.

Minsc -

There's small squeaking in the berserkers ear, before he sighs, almost a sob and speaks with a tired voice. "Wise words, Boo. I only wish our friend could hear you" Before he turns away, unable to look at them on the floor. "I am proud to have called them our friend. We should make them proud in return"

Hope you enjoyed! To the lovely people who have made requests, I will get to them as soon as I can!! Thank you for the requests, and please feel free to send me more!

[coniferousconman]

FHJY spoilers

So I get that a lot of people want the Rat Grinders redeemed and that’s fair, but have you considered that the Bad Kids who the Rat Grinders attempted to have all murdered through the Last Stand do not owe them their time, patience, or energy.

Like if we are going to the final fight next episode why would Bad Kids give them anymore consideration besides maybe not murdering them, but even besides that revivify has a full 10 rounds of time to effective and Kristen has to have Raise Dead.

So maybe they don’t have to perma kill them, but they don’t owe the people that attempted to murder them kindness. Especially when not only are they murders, but also kids that hate the Bad Kids for the most ridiculous and privileged reason possible.

Also they have no reason to assume that the Rat Grinders would care or believe anything that comes from the Bad Kids. The Bad Kids in character have no reason not to believe that the Rat Grinder’s are stuck up, privileged, hateful murders who cheat the system, because they can and have been handed all their exp and abilities and most likely magic items on a silver platter.

Porter and Jace are for sure adults who manipulated these teenagers. That’s not the problem it’s that all of the harm that the Rat Grinders have done to the Bad Kids was in some way of their own accord as Jace, specifically told them to stop antagonizing the Bad Kids. The Last Stand sabotage had to be the Rat Grinders plan as Porter needed Fig alive to be able to write Porter’s name as Ankarna’s champion.

The Rat Grinders deserve redemption and kindness, but the Bad Kids shouldn’t have to be ones to offer that kindness and empathy. They only owe the Rat Grinders decency as teenagers who probably should not be permanently murdered and that it.

Also from the Bad Kids perspective with the rage stars as well as the stakes being so high their is no time for conversation and persuasion they need to stop Ankarna from being murdered before they can deal with the Rat Grinder’s as anything but obstacles in their way that need to go away.

[anarchypumpkincowboy]

Do I think the rat grinders will be revived if the bad kids survive? Yes. Do I think all the rat grinders will be revived? Not necessarily. Do I think all the rat grinders will die? Again not necessarily but it has been a kill or be killed situation.

I think, if they die, the most likely ones to be revived are Mary Ann and Buddy. Lucy if possible will definitely be revived. After that I feel like Oisin and Ruben are a who knows kinda situation. I genuinely don’t think they’re gonna revive Ivy or Kipperlily though. Ivy cause she was kinda just the least relevant rat grinder and Kipperlily cause she’s the most antagonistic (and has always been the most antagonistic even before being rage crystaled).

I feel like buddy and Mary Ann are the most sympathetic current rat grinders and so I feel like they have the highest chance of redemption. This definitely could be me just really really not wanting them to perma die but I do feel like they’ll have the highest chance out of all the others. And I also feel like kipperlily has the lowest chance of redemption (though it would be cool if she did! She’s also just the most antagonistic and least sympathetic out of them)

[cloudmancy]

sorry i know you probably get a lot of asks but I've been reading all your replies and they've made me think a lot about how the show could've gone <3. I've still really enjoyed it but I do agree that some plot beats were kinda skipped/overlooked. I think what they really needed was a couple extra episodes after the last stand exam to get more downtime investigation/relationship rolls going. Like, imagine how much more they couldve found out when they all had the opportunity to do mystery rolls rather than just 1 person at a time. (Tho I think brennan shot himself in the foot a little bit when he said the ratgrinders went completely off the grid after that 😭😭😭😭Like duuude that was the perfect opportunity for them to interact moreee...) Also one last little thing... I think part of the reason why they've pointed out that Jace had been coerced and not the rgs could be cause of that initial reveal that the ratgrinders have hated them since day one. I think none of them ever got over that and have been looking at all the new information through those lenses. Anyway I really love your art <3 this d20 discourse getting crazy

I feel like this was the issue with porter and jace as twist villains... we spend the whole season hating kipperlilly & co, of course even though we know porter is the big bad behind all of it we don't have the emotional connection to him so we go after the rat grinders in the battle instead! I also wonder what would've happened if any of the bad kids actually had to take a rage token during downtime this semester. I feel like having your character go through that would've done a good amount for empathizing with the npcs under perma rage...

[iamthedukeofurl]

FHJY Spoilers I'm not going to go here and say the Bad Kids should have tried to redeem the Rat Grinders mid-fight, not with the Multi-Jace and MegaPorter there. But: Rat Grinders rated by Redeemability Killerlady Throatcutter: Willingly and maliciously tried to not only sabotage the last stand, but do so in such a way as to perma-kill the Bad Kids. When she got made, her first instinct was to murder Buddy Dawn with zero hesitation. 0/10. Yeah, she was manipulated, but she's probably so egotistical that she would have to suffer some sort of ego-death breakdown before she could ever admit that she did anything wrong. Oisin Hakinvar: We know he has been heavily and directly involved in a lot of the Rat Grinder's nastiest schemes. The involvement of his grandma and the dragons attacking the house means that he was, at the very least, open to the idea of massacring the Augefort students attending the party to get at the Bad Kids. Still, he's just normal levels of wizard-smug, I could see somebody talking him around. 2/10. Ivy Embra: Okay, Ivy doesn't do much besides be mean to Maisy. We don't get much sense of her, so I'm going to give her a 5/10, just because there isn't much to go on. Ruben Hopclap: Ruben is one of the few Rat Grinders to show much in the way of character OUTSIDE of being an antagonist. Wanda Childa may have been an elaborate mind game that didn't really go anywhere, but it proved that Ruben at least had something going on in his life besides weird plans to ascend a new god of toxic masculinity. I think he could probably have been talked around given the right circumstances, which is probably why Kipperlilly kept the whole team hidden after the Last Stand. 7/10. Buddy Dawn: Look, Helio sucks and Buddy Dawn sucks too, but I don't think he's actually EVIL. If he hadn't been killed and rage-resurrected, he'd be perfectly fine. The whole concept of this discussion assumes that there's a way of breaking the connection between the Rat Grinders and corrupted Ankarna. I think that the moment that happens, Buddy Dawn goes back to worshiping corn or whatever. 10/10. Maryanne Scuttle: Look, I don't know what you want from me here. Maryann Scuttle is a riddle wrapped inside an Engima. Maryanne Scuttle is an impenetrable citadel of mystery. Maryann Scuttle might be the most devoted servant of destruction we have ever seen, she might have flipped sides if gorgug bought her a soda. I Don't Know. ???/10.