#what a fuckin nightmare of a playlist

[sayingyournames]

tagged by @melodramvs & @greenvlvetcouch to shuffle my songs & list the first 10 that play xx

every you every me - placebo

when my boy walks down the street - the magnetic fields

gone country - alan jackson

good will hunting - black country, new road

for a dancer - jackson browne

blue clear sky - george strait

wrecking ball - mother mother

hold on, hold on - neko case

not the sun - brand new

the (after) life of the party - fall out boy

uhhh i tag @behaveddestroyerrating, @internalstar & any of my mutuals who have not already been tagged <3

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

04 — I'M HERE REGARDLESS OF THE PAIN

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

As it turns out, ‘real men’ fight bloody.

It’s a difficult journey, your escape, and you end up killing more men than you had ever planned to. With comms blaring in your ears, the weight of an assault rifle in your hands, and the windy night brushing against your clammy skin, you find yourself lost in the thrill of battle.

Everything comes to a head, however, when an unfamiliar voice enters your comms, and both Soap and Ghost seem to deflate with relief.

It’s with the roaring of a helicopter overhead, bullets flying by your running body, that a deep, gravelly British voice trickles into your ear – like the eye of a hurricane.

“All stations, this is Bravo Six – Get down!”

You’re not sure who ‘Bravo Six’ is, or why he’s helping you, but the telltale spark that sparks at the base of your spine has your entire being – your soul – ready to put your life in this man’s hands. It’s an all-consuming, threatening need, but one you find yourself clinging to regardless.

Whatever mental dilemma that is starting to form immediately gets put away with the rest of your ongoing ones. Your focus is now entirely set on the figure on top of the wall, firing a rocket at the enemy’s helicopter. As the pilot loses control of the aircraft, you can feel the thrum in your chest as it crashes and burns into the prison’s ground. 

“It’s Price!” Ghost cries out, the most… not joyful, but pleased, maybe, that you’ve ever heard the man.

“Hell fuckin’ yeah!” Soap adds, and when you flit your gaze to your left, you see the beaming grin on his blood-speckled face. In the giant, bright lights surrounding the grounds, you can see all of his intricacies, even when running and shooting down Shadows.

Price, you now recognise the voice as belonging to, commands you all through the radio once more. “All Bravo and Vaqueros,” he barks, “Top o’ the wall. Get here and I’ll get you out. How copy?”

He’s a Captain, through and through. From his delivery, requiring no disobedience, to the undertone of compassion for his men. He’s the kind of man you’d be blessed to work alongside with – a true, hard earned leader.

“Loud and clear, Price. Comin’ to ya!” Ghost copies, and it feels as though the air around the lot of you has grown thick with tangible, genuine hope.

Rodolfo, closest to your right, looks to you with raised brows, before calling out to Soap and Ghost to your left, “Who’s he?”

Soap’s returning smirk is hardened, a hint of bloodthirst in it. The wrapping around his arm has, miraculously, remained on, with only a small patch of blood bled through. It’s a relief, and a compliment to your handiwork. “A friend,” he chuckles, and you believe it.

“I like him already,” Alejandro barks a laugh, before tilting his head to call out to his men, “¡Vaqueros, vayan al muro, entre las torres, ya!”

You can’t help the small smile that creeps onto your face, amidst the sheer panic inside of you. It’s easy to fall into the heat of the moment, the camaraderie and community.

As the five of you stop mere feet away from the wall, you see ropes get dropped down by the figure on top, allowing for all of you to ascend. Price tells you all as much, before you're clicking your ascender into place, and being shot up the rope.

You’re just behind Soap and Ghost, watching as two men – you’re assuming the one with the boonie hat is Price – grab their hands and pull them up.

They all greet each other, and it hits you what they are. Who they are. 

This is the 141 of every soldier’s nightmares. This is the 141 who Soap’s confirmed is closer than anyone will ever know. This is the 141 that takes down enemies by each other’s sides, forever on each other’s six.

It’s odd, being an outlier, someone watching on from outside of their circle. Like a spectator in a real life motion picture, or a cameraman capturing the essence of a love so deep, no one could tell where it started and ended.

They barely pass a few words amongst each other, before each of them move to help the rest of you up.

It’s the other stranger – a man with tight, dark curls, and electrifying brown eyes, that stretches his hand out for you to take. With one breath to decide, you let your hand fall into place against his, your skin heating from the very first touch.

Time seems to stop, just for a moment, as the two of you make eye contact for the first time.

His eyes. They’re such a deep, earnest brown, and the dimples etched into his cheeks look as if they were made to be admired. He, like Soap, has a light dusting of freckles across the highlights of his face, and if one were to tell you he was carved from stone, you’d believe it.

In reality, this assessment lasts less than a few seconds, before he’s pulling you forward.

But he’s too strong, too fast with it, and you quickly find yourself crashing into his chest, your nose hitting against his collarbone, sending a sharp pain through it.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, love,” he rambles out, quickly placing his large hands on your shoulders and keeping you at arms distance, eyes flickering up and down your frame. And, oh, his voice. It’s like honey against velvet, warm and soft and accented. 

“It’s alright,” you manage to say, around the stiffness of your jaw.

He, too, seems at a loss for words, his brows pushing together in confusion. Before either of you can continue your conversation in your small bubble, Soap bursts it with easy charisma.

“Ale, Rudy,” he jerks his head towards the two newest additions to the small group, before looking to you, “Sweetheart.”  You can feel your cheeks heat, your knuckles whitening against the strain of fisting your hands. “Meet Captain Price and Sergeant Garrick.”

It’s a true insult to be referred to as such a vitriol-lidden endearment, especially when being introduced to the 141’s Captain. And the man who you can’t quite get a feel of – the one still watching you, now.

“Thanks for the assist. My men need cover fire,” Alejandro yells over the sounds of gunfights and firearms, reloading his rifle as he does so.

There’s a collective, exciting thrum to the air, your body coming alive within it. A rooted, organic part of you instinctively forces your attention to Price, who immediately commands his team; “The lot of you! Overwatch – now!”

It’s a good call, and quickly adjusting a scope onto the head of your rifle, you move to kneel and aim over the small stone wall. 

Peeking over it, you manage to shoot a few in an arm or a leg – not fatal wounds. If you were at all thinking, you’d realise it was a self-preservation technique; when your body would finally crash from the adrenaline, the pure agony of killing your men would, maybe, lighten. Just a bit.

You jolt when Price barks a warning, “Vehicles incoming, right side!”

Quickly adjusting your stance, you manage to catch a glimpse of the said vehicle, its body covered in the shadows.

“That vehicle’s rigged –” Ghost calls to your left side, but by his dampened tone, you can tell the words aren’t directed to you, “Soap, detonate it!”

Through the scope of your rifle, between one moment and the next, orange and yellow fill your line of sight; nothing visible but the heart of an explosion. You can’t help your deep, surprised exhale, but the sound of Soap’s manic laughter soothes the tension in your shoulders.

“¡Escalen, Vaqueros! ¡Es su oportunidad!” Alejandro shouts through his comms, at the same time that Ghost calls out their status, “Vehicle destroyed!”

Ghost’s voice is such a deep timbre – all dominance and command, guttural and raw and gravelly. You feel almost guilty, how easily you find yourself clinging to their instructions, even if you outrank them all. Like scotch tape over your cracking porcelain brain, a quick fix; a necessary one, if you don’t want to break on this very cement.

“Shadows in the right side tower, watch your backs!” Price calls, and you instantly pivot to direct your gun to the stone tower to your right, hands assuming the most stable position on your rifle without a single tremble.

Your eyes go wide as you watch Soap storm in, efficiently taking down all of the Shadows within with easy shots and a final slice of his knife.

Minutes pass, then, yelling of orders, Soap landing shots of his grenade launcher, Shadows going down without a single KIA caused by your trigger.

It’s when Alejandro calls out to his soldiers, pushing his tactical glasses up and securing his rifle on his back, “Vamos, avancen rapido- mientras está despejado!!” That you let yourself breathe. In, out, the feel of your chest rising and falling with the sound of destruction all around you.

The rest of the previously captive soldiers rush up the ropes, you extending your hand and pulling up a few, just like the rest of the men on top of the wall.

“We’re good to go, coronel,” Rodolfo turns to report to Alejandro, his expression firm, a thin clinging of sweat shining with the fire of explosions below. A few small cuts decorate his face, one just nicking a mole on his upper cheek.

Alejandro nods, allowing himself a smirk to stretch over his face, before looking to you all with a narrowed gaze. “Let’s get out of here, hermanos y hermana.” You will never admit the small, blooming part of you that craves that kind of inclusion – how he adjusts to your presence in such small ways.

“Down the wall,” Price jerks his chin, wiping a hand over the scruff of his beard as he prepares to exfil, looking behind you all. “We are leaving!”

Your heart stutters in your chest – a sudden, all-consuming thought erupting in your brain like wildfire. If you surrendered – turned, and begged for the Shadows to take you to Graves – would they? Was there any hope of return, of normalcy, a way for you to go back to the life you always knew?

A sudden hand around the nape of your neck has you startling out of your wandering thoughts, your eyes fluttering where they meet near-black ones. 

Ghost.

“You know how to get down, dontcha?” He tilts his head, the words coming out deadly soft in the gunfire surrounding you both.

With shaky, unsure movements, you nod.

He squeezes his hold on your scruff tighter, studying you like one would study a germ under a microscope. He leans in – his mask brushing the side of your ear as he seethes, “Then get down, Sweetheart.”

If he knew of your inner struggle, or if it was merely a coincidence, you aren’t sure.

All you know is that he’d just saved you. Intentionally or not – he had rescued you from both the Shadows, and yourself. With a firm nod of your own, you shoulder him off of you, and rappel down the wall.

As soon as your feet hit the muddy ground, you focus in on the exfil vehicles up ahead, the lights no longer shining on you all. Hints of sunrise peak over the horizon, the small bits of hazy orange decorating the men near the vehicle.

Two more footfalls echo behind you, and when you look over your shoulder, it’s to find both Soap and Price.

“These are ours,” Price affirms, pointing to the two vehicles in front of you. When his eyes meet yours, his jaw sets minutely, and you're quick to look away and to the rest of the group.

“Check,” Alejandro nods.

Soap, jogging up to the vehicle, gestures to Rodolfo, “Take the truck we came with,” the man quickly agreeing and rushing back to join his Colonel and men.

“¡Vaqueros, siganme...! ¡Rudy, movamos el rancho!” Yells Alejandro, jerking his head towards the other man, Rodolfo quickly responding, “Sale, Coronel, suerte.”

Adrenaline continues to rush through your veins like a second blood, your muscles loose and ready to react to the smallest snap of a twig. Turning your brain off is second nature, at this point, the rush of unneeded thoughts shut off like a faucet.

Directing Price to follow their lead, you find yourself lost on where to go – Rodolfo was the closest thing you had to a supporter, but at the end of the day, the deal had been made with the 141. Not the Los Vaqueros.

“Gaz, drive!” Price directs, before his steely blue eyes find you, frosting over, allowing you no way of reading his emotion. “You’re with us.”

…There’s your answer, you suppose.

The five of you manage your way into the vehicle, Gaz roughly hopping into the driver’s seat and the other three rushing into the back. Soap’s hand finds its way around your wrist as you go to hop in, pulling you forward roughly. 

Elbowing him with a somewhat immature huff, you try and get comfortable, but being squished in with three other six-foot-something bulky men makes the act difficult.

It’s the least of your problems, really, because as soon as you stop your fussing around, all eyes are on you.

“You lot have three seconds to tell me what the hell is goin’ on,” Price grits out from under his breath. Somehow, it comes out a hundred times more terrifying than if he had yelled it.

Two nervous seconds pass, and just when you think that this is finally going to be the end of your road, Soap babbles out, “The lass is with us now. Sir.”

Knees spread, Price runs a tired, weathered hand down his face, letting out a long-suffering breath.

“...Where’s she from? A stray?” He asks, looking to the two – so dismissive, you just can’t help yourself. You’d earned your title, you were worthy of respect, even if it was from the Captain of the 141.

“She’s right here,” you retort, voice hard and unbudging – even when six eyes lock onto you once more. “And she is a Colonel. One who just killed her men because she wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to war crimes. Who just saved the lives of your men, for no reason but her humanity. Is that what you wanted to hear, Captain?”

Visceral, tangible silence fills the metal walls of the vehicle once more.

That is, until a low, impressed whistle from the front breaks it. Gaz. You look into the rearview mirror, meeting his smile-crinkled eyes. “Definitely what I wanted to hear,” he says, a grin on his elegant features, the minute lighting of the horizon cascading his skin is silky pastels.

“...Sweetheart ‘nd Johnny got in a scuffle while we were on the run,” Ghost supplies, eyes darting to yours for a second before focusing in on Price. “She gave him mercy. We agreed to enter a… mutually beneficial agreement.”

“Mutually beneficial?” Soap guffaws, then groans when you elbow him against his injured arm, his head hanging between his shoulders.

Staring down Price, you straighten your spine. “I help you all survive Graves and get the job done. You give me the resources necessary to knock some sense into him.”

Price raises an unimpressed brow, looking at the three of you in a strange sense of exasperated disappointment. “By ‘knock some sense into ‘im’,” he uses air quotes, “We help you kill ‘im?”

That is the biggest question of all.

Could you – would you – kill him? The man who was your everything; boss, provider, family, lover. If it meant protecting the greater good, if it meant sacrificing yourself, would you allow yourself to deliver the final bullet to his brain?

“No,” you manage, voice cracking softly when you look down to where your hands fist against the fabric atop your thighs. “This isn’t him. I don’t know what’s going on, but…” You swallow, finally looking at Price in the eye once more. “I just want things to go back to normal. He’ll come around.”

It’s like you’ve rolled over and bared your throat to the four men, allowing vulnerability in such a trapped space.

“And if there is no saving him?” Price asks, leaning his forearms against his thighs, entwining his hands together as he studies you. “We’re taking ‘im down, but…” Rolling his tongue against the back of his teeth, he considers for a moment, before nodding to himself. “We’ll allow ya to speak to ‘im. If anything goes haywire…”

“You’ll kill him,” you fill in the blanks, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears. They taste wrong on your tongue, the syllables like sour milk.

“He tried to kill us both,” Soap spits out, his right leg bouncing as he looks around the van. “Yer lucky we’re giving ye this much.”

“I could’ve killed you,” you state, the words anything but a lie. They seem to shut him up, at least.

“Save the squabbling for later,” Price cuts in, a direct order to you both. You could, if you wanted to, point out that you were both of equal rank, really, but you decide against it. If you had it your way, you’d have the Captain of Task Force 141 liking your company. “What the hell happened to you, MacTavish?”

MacTavish is certainly a new one – if you had to take a guess, it’d be Soap’s last name.

With a roll of his eyes, Soap jerks his chin to his bandaged upper arm. “Got shot. Through and through. Sweetheart bandaged me up.”

“Where’d that one come from?” Gaz asks from the front, watching through the rearview mirror. “Sweetheart. Got a crush, Johnny boy?”

“Oh feck off,” Soap grumbles, casting a soft glare to the man up front. “Hen gave me those sweetheart lollies when aye was bleedin’ out. Had nothin’ else.”

Gaz hums as if to say that he does not believe that story for a second, and you see all four of them seemingly… relax. Easing, like how one would as they stepped through their front door after a long day at work. Familial and comforting and…

Not for you.

You don’t belong, that voice once again echoes through your ears, and this time, it’s harder to shut it out. It doesn’t matter that you don’t belong, not when you’d be finding your own feet after this bullshit gets sorted out. Really, there wouldn’t even be a reason to see the four men, or the Las Vaqueros, again.

For some reason, your stomach feels uneasy with that thought process.

“We found out somethin’ much more important,” Ghost admits, and the mood immediately settles into something much more cold, much more serious. “Shepherd burned us.”

That name.

It’s like a shot to your system, an invasion of your very being.

Shepherd.

“...General Shepherd?” You mutter out, without a single thought behind the words, your mouth directly connected to your mind.

“Ye know ‘im?” Soap blurts out, brows furrowed and torso turning towards you, hand flexing around the rifle in his lap. Your mouth is dry, your palms are clammy, and your head is pounding.

“He trained me,” you manage, breath tightening and words shaky. 

“He was my first Captain.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re

[zeggyzone]

off-air | isekko

iso/gekko (valorant) tags: love confessions, domestic fluff, feelings realization, snuggling & cuddling, might be ooc, cross-posted on ao3

synopsis: while iso is trying to blow off some steam after a stressful day, gekko texts him. fifteen minutes later, he's in his best friend's room on wash day. bonding ensues.

sfw. 5.1k words.

notes: - most of this was written at 3-5 am, so if you see any grammatical errors, *no you didn't.* - iso and gekko have a pre-existing friendship; a close one at that! they have platonically held hands, hugged, all of that while trying to break iso out of his shell :) - sorry if it's out of character - i also wrote this while listening to iso and gekko's canonical spotify playlists, along with the isekko playlist made by lili on spotify! - the name of this fic in my documents is "The Oneshot Where Iso and Gekko Confess Over A Bathtub On A Random Tuesday" hahaha

STOKYO DRIFT, Cemetary Drive I said I’m ready to cash out I said I’m ready to– I said I’m ready to– I said I’m ready to–

Iso exhales.

Just a round at the Range. It’s that simple. Blow off some steam, Zhao Yu.

It’s that simple. No strings attached. It was just him, his Raging Hunter (which he customized with the help of Raze just a while back– she helped everyone with it at one point, and Iso was on her supposed list of clientele), and a bunch of robot dummies.

Truth be told, Iso didn’t even know why he was here. In recent meetings with Sage, he found himself sitting across from her in her own bed, talking about the nightmares he experiences on the daily. The gunfire, the blood, the flashes of violet.

Especially the gunfire.

Yet here he was, Raging Hunter in his hand, doing the one thing he knows how to do in a last-ditch effort to calm himself down. He pulls back the hammer with his thumb, exhaling as he flicks his arm towards the ‘start’ button, squeezing the trigger ever so slightly–

Bzzt.

What.

Iso tries to ignore the buzzing in his front pocket, gently vibrating against his side. He steadies his aim, but it buzzes again, and he sighs, holstering his Raging Hunter, and pulling out his phone.

SECURE SERVER_VAL.VP // PRIVATE MESSAGE: GEKKO-ISO

GEKKO [15:41 UTC]

yo yo yo can u help me clean wings ?

Iso blinks.

You have to send five back-to-back texts to get that point across?

ISO [15:42 UTC]

Why so sudden ?

GEKKO [15:42 UTC]

yk how he gets and he likes u Hes fussing so fuckin bad rn holy shit

[SYSTEM] Gekko sent an image. [A 0.5x photo. Gekko looks disgruntled at the camera. He’s in a black shirt, and you can see Wingman crawling out of the tub.]

Iso almost laughs.

ISO [15:42 UTC]

Let me clean up. Ill be there in 15

GEKKO [15:43 UTC]

THANK YOU DUDE I was going actually crazy you are like a life saver

ISO [15:42 UTC]

👍

Thumbs-up? Thumbs-up?

Holy shit.

Iso unholsters his sidearm, putting on the safety as he makes his way to the teleporter, walking through it with a shudder (he’ll never get used to it) and making another healthy stride toward the locker room. He passes Omen’s desk, glancing at his bonsai tree left with a refilled watering can as he puts four of his fingers on the handle, the fingerprint scanner whirring and clicking the locker open with a little green light. Iso puts away his gun in the tiny mold left in the back part of the locker.

On the little hanger for his mission outfit, he has a woven bracelet Gekko made him a few weeks prior; red, purple, white, and black in nature. He took it off before training. It means quite a bit to him, and he would hate to mess it up.

He goes to close his locker, looking at it for a moment, hesitating, then closing it.

He was going to help bathe Wingman– he doesn’t want to get it dirty.

Iso’s sneakers pitter against the floor, narrow steps suddenly growing heavy as he approached Gekko’s door. He knocks, putting his hands in his pockets immediately after.

Gekko doesn’t seem to notice, as Iso hears small Spanish curse words leave his lips behind the muffled door. Iso shrugs, pushing the sliding door open with a small huff. He closes it behind him and walks towards Gekko’s bathroom door, generously left open for his incoming guest.

The sight is comedic. Wingman is hurdled over his owner’s shoulder, trying to squirm his way out of Gekko’s grip, both hands reaching outward like a baby trying to reach something. Gekko has his hands on Wingman’s chubby jelly sides, holding him back with an iron grip. Wingman suddenly falls limp at the sight of Iso, except for the grabby hands that continue. Gekko turns around, confused.

“Oh, shit, you’re here.” His eyes widen, letting go of Wingman. He hops down to climb Iso like a jungle gym, and Iso picks him up before his pants get any soap on them, walking over to the tub once again, and placing Wingman in.

“Let me take off my jacket. I can’t really help with all this stuff on–” Iso says, turning on his heel. Gekko gives him an acknowledging ‘aight’ and very gently scolds Wingman to stay.

Iso walks to Gekko’s bed (his radivore sling was notably discarded on the bed— a pair of eyes look at him) tugging his hoodie over his head. He neatly lies it on the end of Gekko’s bed, having done so quite a few times before (Gekko often called Iso up for a friendly hangout that consisted of Iso knocking out a few hours into their gaming sessions). He looks at the gloves on his hands, removing them with the tiniest bit of clamminess.

He feels weird without them.

He tucks them into the pockets of the hoodie, sliding over to Gekko’s post, and kneeling on the bathmat. Wingman looks up at Iso expectantly. “I’ve never… washed a radivore before.”

“All good. It’s pretty damn simple if you ask me. Just lather the little guy up with some soap until he’s extra squeaky clean. It’s the same for the rest of my crew.” Gekko explains, handing Iso the soap along with a little glove with bristles. Gekko has one on his non-dominant hand. “And you literally can’t mess this up. Bro loves you.”

Iso nods, taking it. “Pfft, I hope so,” he responds, feeling the warm water against his one bare hand.

He’s not particularly used to having his gloves off. Sure, he takes them off when he has to, but otherwise, they stay on. He feels practically naked without them. The same goes for his headphones. His little earbuds are in his ears, playing music low enough to the point where he can still understand what Gekko is saying.

UBER EATS, Northside Hollow & Ethan Ross

Gekko watches as Iso puts on the glove. He places his bare hand to hold Wingman gently as Iso puts a generous amount of soap on the garment, lathering it on Wingman’s jelly head. He watches attentively, folding his arms on the edge of the bathtub to rest his head in. Gekko takes in the sight in front of him; Iso, in his bathroom, washing his little buddy with all of the benignity in the world.

Iso glances toward Gekko, a small huff leaving his lips, “So you called me here to do your dirty work for you?”

“No, I called you here to be Wingman’s .. uhh, social … buffer. He likes you. I’m using my resources to my advantage! Boom.” Gekko moves his hands to the best of his ability despite resting on them– his animated self refuses to go unseen even in a moment of exhaustion. “He’s been fussy all day,” Gekko reaches his gloved hand to lather some soap on the radivore’s back, “but the second you show up,” a short breath, “se convierte en un angelito.”

Iso understood ‘convierte’ and ‘angelito’ when placed together. He assumed from context clues… “He turns into an angel.”

He stifles a laugh.

…

“Hey,”

Gekko blinks, “What’s good?”

“I’ve been wanting to ask–” he keeps his gaze on Wingman, but he can feel Gekko staring him down, “–we never exchanged names. Of course, we have our callsigns, but … that’s different. I just feel since we’ve been hanging out so often we should refer to each other as something more … uh, friendlier than … Gekko. Or Iso.”

“Oh?” Gekko furrows his brows, running his bare hand through his prickly green hair, “Damn, you’re right,”

It was… odd, admittedly, but, when he really thought about it, Iso was right. How many weeks has it been? Hell, it’s probably been a bit more than a few months. He’s been hanging out with this guy almost non-stop and yet, they don’t know each other’s actual names.

Iso knocks him free from his thoughts. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I’m so down. Just, how do we like, go about this? Like… yo, man, my name is blah, blah, blah.”

 Iso offers a playful smile, “Rock, paper, scissors for it?” he asks, swatting his bare hand in the air to remove excess droplets, drying it to the best of his ability. “If I lose, I go first. And vice versa.” He holds his fist out to indicate the beginning of the game.

Gekko laughs, a small grin on his face as he puts his fist up. “Oh, you’re on.”

“Aight– rock, paper, scissors, shoot–!”

Iso plays paper.

Gekko plays scissors. “Tough luck.”

Iso lets out a small laugh, returning to washing Wingman. He keeps his gaze on the radivore, feeling Gekko’s eyes burn into him like fire.

“My full name is Li Zhao Yu.” Iso makes sure to accentuate every letter.

“Li … Zhao Yu,” Gekko repeats it back to him, getting a few of the syllables wrong, but Iso is quick to correct him— gently, of course.

“Shit, that’s cool. So, it’d be just Zhao Yu, right?” He asks after the mild training, lifting his head up from the side of the tub, holding himself up by his chin.

“Yeah, basically.” Iso shrugs, returning to washing Wingman.

“Yo, could I mash those together? I think that’d be a pretty sick nickname,” before Iso could say anything, Gekko spits out, “Zhayu. It’s like, not even that different, but, it sounds cool as fuck, right?”

Iso looks at Gekko, eyes wide.

“I don’t have to use it if you don’t wanna—“

“No,” Iso says almost immediately, “I mean— no, I like it. I just haven’t had someone give me a nickname in— I don’t know— forever,” Iso admits with a small laugh, rinsing Wingman. “It’s nice. I like it.”

Gekko lets out the tiniest sigh of relief, “Good. I didn’t wanna like, overstep.”

Iso nods followed by a small hum of acknowledgement. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh, yeah— we doin’ full names, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh man,” Gekko says between a laugh, pushing himself to sit up straight. He reaches over for the towel on the counter, holding it and awaiting Iso to hold him up, clearing his throat, “My full, legal, name is Mateo Armendáriz De la Fuente.”

“… what.”

Gekko laughs even harder than last time, “Dude, that’s why I asked. It’s kind of a mouthful.” He bites back a laugh, “You can just call me Mateo.”

“Mateo … Armen—what? Woah, you’re right,” Iso says with a tiny laugh punctuating the end of his sentence, “if you think you butchered my name, I wouldn’t even know where to begin with yours.”

He then realizes the meaning behind his words, quick to defend himself, “I’m not saying your name is weird or anything— it’s just hard for me to pronounce— or uh, remember, in that sense.”

“Maybe I should just stick to Mateo.”

Gekko laughs, thankfully.

“I’ll learn your full name, trust me,” Iso says, drying off Wingman like a little baby.

“I know, man.”

“But, now that I’m looking at you… you really do strike me as a Mateo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gekko raises a brow, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh— nothing, it just— makes sense?” Iso quickly explains, not wanting to offend.

“Dude, you’re chill. I’m just playin’.”

Iso blinks, turning back to Wingman. “One more thing,”

“Yeah?”

“Where did your crew’s names come from?” Iso asks out of the blue, holding Wingman up in the air next to his head, making him face Gekko with him.

“Honestly, most of them kinda just … came to me,” Gekko admits, not having an exact answer. “I kinda named them based on their whole ability thing—? I dunno how to explain it.”

“Dizzy has that plasma thing— and guess what! Makes people dizzy. Get it?” He shrugs, “Wingman’s kinda self-explanatory. He’s my wingman.”

“Then, uh, Thrash. She was kind of the more aggressive outta-all of them? And if we’re goin’ back to the whole ability-based-name-thing, Mosh seems pretty self-explanatory too, yeah?”

“I guess— makes more sense now,” Iso shrugs. “And that’s pretty cu—“

Cool.

“— cu-ool,” Iso catches himself, making a weird new word in trying to save himself from that embarrassment.

He quickly holds up Wingman for Gekko to dry, and lest Iso’s anticipations, Gekko doesn’t take Wingman from his hands, just running the towel on Wingman to dry him off.

Iso feels Gekko’s hands against his, hindered by the towel between them as he holds Wingman while Gekko pats him down to dry the little guy. A tiny rosyness creeps up to the round of Iso’s cheeks as he watches Gekko’s hands, hyper-aware of the fact that they would be touching if it weren’t for the towel working as a barrier.

Iso looks away, tapping his finger on Wingman as gently as he can to the beat of the song playing in his earbuds.

Gekko’s eyes flick up to Iso midway through the task, and he smiles. Gekko smiles up at Iso and he returns it without a second thought.

“Yo, you’re all red, amigo.”

No fucking way.

“Há? No, am I? I’m not, no, it’s just the light, no?” Iso sprints through his words, looking at Gekko everywhere but his eyes. He utters a curse in Chinese, tilting his head away in an effort to hide his supposed blush. “Sorry.”

backseat, jungle bobby & lentra.

“Pfft,” Gekko lets out the tiniest giggle, “It’s aight.”

Iso comes back to reality when Wingman shimmies out of his grip, running back to the harness on Gekko’s bed. He almost begs the little radivore to stay– to save him from this terrible situation. He thinks he could die.

Instead, Iso looks at the radivore harness like a broken man, and Gekko laughs even harder, forcing Iso to get up.

“I’m grabbing my hoodie.” He announces, shuffling towards the bed.

“Oh, come on– I don’t mean to tease–”

Iso rolls his eyes, falling onto Gekko’s bed, face first. He grabs his hoodie– gently pushing Gekko’s harness out of the way– now pulling the pull-over up under his chin as a pillow. 

He didn’t want to believe he was in love with his best friend, but Iso knew he was too far gone to even deny it anymore. The way Gekko laughed, the way he teased him, the jokes he made, and the considerate things he did for him, whether it be making little woven bracelets or buying him Boba whenever he went out— that was all casual, right? It had to be.

Gekko walks out– Iso doesn’t notice– and sits near the headboard, looking down at him with yet another teasing grin. It’s fucking lethal.

Then, with that smile, Iso realizes.

Of fucking course it wasn’t.

Iso averts his gaze, jaw dropped as he came to that realization.

“Relax, bro. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel.” He hears Gekko say.

Iso shoves his face into his hoodie. There’s silence until Gekko asks the burning question,

“Were you going to say that it was cute, or am I crazy?”

Iso groans. “Do we really– do we really have to talk about this now??” He says with half of his speech muffled as he finally peeks up from his hoodie, blush flaring into his pale skin.

“I mean, you’ve slipped up a lot like that before. I dunno why you’re tweakin’ right now,” Gekko shrugs.

That sentence makes Iso’s heart drop.

“I’ve what.”

Gekko looks at Iso and is met with a beautiful picture; he’s resting on his bed (his!) and his eyes are a bright violet, looking at Gekko with a wide expression. If Gekko could peer into his mind, he’d only find that Iso is so embarrassed that he might as well have been stripped bare in public– but despite all of it, he finds Iso sprawled like this endearing. It’s hilarious, even– how did Iso not notice Gekko noticing all of the little moments? The stolen glances, the lingering touches, the late-night talks– Gekko almost laughs at his obliviousness.

The silence is almost suffocating, so Gekko begins, “Zhayu,” a breath, “you’re not as slick as you think.”

Gekko looks at Iso’s hands, and they’re balled into tight fists, and when he looks into those raging violet eyes again, they’re twitching.

“And…” Iso sounds out of breath, “You never told me?!”

Gekko blinks. Then he howls.

“No! Don’t laugh–!“ Iso pushes himself up, kneeling on the bed in a position that would definitely make his feet numb later, “Gekk– Mateo. How long? And— just how many times have I slipped up like this around you?” Iso curses just a few seconds after the delivery of that sentence, running a hand through his hair, forehead moist.

Gekko sits up straight, adjusting his sitting stance into crisscrossed, looking away as he puckers his lips, drumming his hands on his thighs, “Man, you know… like… was I supposed to count?”

Iso’s eyebrows drop.

“Mateo, I will strangle you right here, right now.” Iso threatens, but his hands don’t move from his knees. Gekko looks at him with a dubious look, and Iso realizes he isn’t exactly feeding into the whole ‘fear factor’ of it. He’s quick to lift up his hands in front of him and exaggerate the motion as if he’s moving Gekko’s head back and forth like a maraca.

It’s silent.

Then, it’s enough to make Gekko fall into a giggle fit. Then, Iso gets mad that he’s not taking his threat seriously. Then, Iso is so mad that he starts laughing. Hard.

He’s hurled over on his knees, holding his stomach as he falls onto his side, just next to Gekko’s knee, and his gut hurts. His gut hurts from laughing, and Iso realizes he’s laughing with no one better than Gekko himself. Iso cough-laughs, covering his mouth. Gekko is hitting himself with his fist, smack dab in the chest to stop himself from coughing. Iso remembers the little ‘I lowkey have asthma’ and one last laugh bubbles out from his throat.

He looks at where the woven bracelet Gekko made him a few weeks ago would be and imagines it; purple, white, red, and black, all woven together to create a sense of Iso in itself.

He feels naked. Yet the mirage reminds him that he would protect it with his life.

Gekko deflates, his arms lining up behind him to keep himself steady. His head falls to where Iso’s head is, then his unusually bare wrist.

“Where’s your bracelet?” He asks, reaching over, and tapping on the little pulse point where it would be. “I thought you liked it.”

“I didn’t want to mess it up when we cleaned Wingman,” Iso breathes, his voice tired.

Gekko hums.

Iso blinks.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” Iso says blankly, feeling Gekko’s fingers brush up against his wrist ever so slightly as he retreats them back to hold himself up. Iso’s fingers twitch with anticipation. He bites his lip softly, looking at Gekko’s surprisingly soft hands, despite them looking so rough.

Iso keeps half of his face in the sheets, left cheek squished up against the surface. He rests on the bed, getting comfortable with Gekko at his side, legs crossed and looking at him like he is a piece of valuable, fragile treasure and not the cold-hearted ‘Dead Lilac’ killer everyone made him out to be.

No, Iso corrects himself, not everyone. Me.

Iso is who makes himself out to be the Dead Lilac. He leaves that behind today; hopefully forever.

“And you’re mine, querido.” Gekko breathes, his foreign tongue slipping. Gekko registers what he said seconds later, quick to change the subject, “You look like a cat like this.”

Iso mumbles, “Querido? What does that…” But he gives up halfway through the question, mostly because he knows Gekko won’t tell him what it means. “A cat?” He instead asks, raising a brow. Gekko flicks his cheek, and he mumbles a small “ow” as soon as the stinging feeling occurs. “I’m not going to meow if that’s what you’re asking.”

A chuckle, “That sucks.”

“Ew, you want me to meow?” Iso feigns a laugh, hiding his full face in the sheets to muffle the tiny effervesce, before coming back to look up at Gekko. “You’re so weird, Mateo.”

“Hater.”

Iso sticks his tongue out, lifting his right arm to flick Gekko’s nose.

“Ow.”

Then it’s quiet. Iso hates quiet.

“Teo. I want to ask you something.”

supernova, Godly the Ruler.

Gekko feels like he knows what’s coming. “Ask away.”

“Have you ever thought about …” Iso pauses, looking away to regain some of the composure that he lost as he began the sentence, “Have you ever thought about us? And what we are?” Iso exhales, unaware he is holding his breath. “Because I don’t know what we are at this very moment.”

Iso had avoided eye contact for so long. He brings himself to look at Gekko, and he looks at him the second the look in his best friend’s eyes alters.

“I have.” A deep breath, “Many times.”

“What do you think about? What are we?” Iso asks.

He quickly adds to the end, “To you?”

“I…” Gekko purses his lips, “Well, right now. We’re just homies, yeah?”

“At the moment … I’d say so.”

Iso looks at where the bracelet would be— a fond reminder of their camaraderie. Then he looks into Gekko’s eyes and finds the same unreadable look. He looks at Iso’s wrist with such fondness. Happiness. Content. A secret fourth thing. Iso finds comfort in it.

“What about everything else you’ve thought of?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Do you want to tell me?” Iso asks, avoiding Gekko’s gaze, and he realizes that their two hands are almost grazing— holding each other. Iso’s hand twitches again. “If so, yes.”

“Pfft,” Iso swears he sees a mischievous glint in Gekko’s eyes, “Least serious… uuh…”

“I’ve thought of kissing you.”

Iso’s face distorts, pursing his lips as he shoots up from his lying position. “Least serious?! That’s the most uncasual thing I can think of!” He almost shouts out of pure shock. He’s not angry, just confused.

Gekko belly laughs, his hand smacking onto his stomach to support himself, “I’m playin’! There’s stuff before that, tonto.”

Iso wants to smack him for messing with him like that. That thought is wiped when he sees the red against Gekko’s ears and he’s done for. Smitten.

“And… compared to other shit, I think that’s pretty tame.”

…

“You’re so gross.” Iso blurts out.

“What? You wanted the truth, so you got the truth,” Gekko holds his hands up in defense before falling next to him again, “and to give you the whole truth, if I were to tell you what I’m thinking now, it’d be... that… ay…” Gekko’s right hand returns to his face, covering his mouth and trailing down his jaw, “maybe there have been times I’ve thought about us– and not as what we said we were a few minutes ago.”

Iso understands those connotations. He looks in the middle of their laps, almost touching. He exhales.

“I would say that the thought is mutual.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A pause, “... Yes.”

“Mateo, I—“ Iso purses his lips. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“You welcomed me. Open arms. I don’t know if you… if you knew, but, you invited me anyway. I didn’t know if you were just like that with everyone, but– either way, you– you are just… perfect. I got to know you and I was like, how could anyone ever hate this guy? You’re everything, you’re all that there is right, and, wǒ qù, I can’t even fucking describe–” 

It’s hot. Then Iso realizes why.

Gekko leans in, pressing their lips together in a tender, soft embrace. Iso’s lips are the tiniest bit chapped against Gekko’s fairly soft ones, and he eats it all up. He relishes the feeling of his lips on Gekko’s— his best friend.

He stays like that for a hot minute, pulling away and looking at Gekko like a lost kitty who had found homage in him. He catches his breath.

“... I didn’t know how to shut you up–”

“Oh my God.” Iso smacks Gekko’s shoulder and in return, he pokes him in the side.

Iso jolts, letting out a quiet yelp— one that’s a bit out of character for his assassin background.

Then Gekko has a devious look on his face.

Was the fabled ‘Dead Lilac’ … ticklish?

Iso quickly covers his mouth in embarrassment, grip tightening as he realizes the noise he just let out. He looks at Gekko.

“No way.”

“No. It wasn’t anything. That wasn’t me, it was … Thrash—“ Iso quickly tries to back himself up, hand slipping from his mouth and immediately going to cover his sides as a last defense.

“Uh-huh. And where is Thrash?” He asks, nudging his head towards his harness as his hand reaches over to an exposed part of Iso’s side.

“Mateo!” Iso quickly scrambles away, rolling over to the other side of the bed, getting on his knees, and holding his left arm in front of him, creating distance between them as his right arm wraps around his own waist, trying to protect himself from an impending tickle attack.

“I will wrestle you on this bed and win.”

“I have little siblings and cousins. Fuckin’ bring it.”

And then he pounces.

The tickle match is full of empty threats, foreign curses, and lots of giggles. Too many. There was a cackle here and there, maybe even a snort. By the time it ended, Gekko fell from his place on top of Iso, lying next to him with a few laughter-filled coughs. Iso catches his breath.

“Mateo,”

A breathless “Yeah?”

“I wanna be your boyfriend.”

Iso’s headphones die.

A deep breath, “Can I?”

Iso stares at the ceiling. He notices Gekko is, too.

It’s quiet. So fucking quiet.

But Iso can handle it now.

Gekko is next to him, their arms are touching, and the silence isn't deafening for once. He feels the energy in the room and it doesn’t suffocate him, if anything, he’s breathing better.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Iso turns on his side. Gekko faces him.

Iso’s tired expression shifts into a happy, close-eyed smile as he tackles Gekko into a bear hug, invariably pushing him down onto the bed, putting his full body weight onto the poor guy, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”

Gekko let out an involuntary gasp as Iso suddenly tackled him down onto the bed, nearly winding him as felt Iso’s full weight. He laughed softly, the air knocked out of him as he lay there under, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around Iso and holding him tightly against his chest.

“Yeah, mi corazón,” he said softly, “Thank you.”

“Corazón,” Iso exhales against Gekko’s neck, pushing himself off from the top, “what does that mean?” He asks, breathing against Gekko’s chest, cheek squished against it. He holds him softer now, breathing in Gekko’s cologne.

“My heart,” Gekko says, a careful hand running up Iso’s clothed back, drawing small circles, “you are my heart, Zhao Yu.”

“If I am your heart,” he feels Gekko’s heartbeat against his cheek, “then, you are my treasure,” Iso smiles, “bǎo bèi.”

“Bǎo bèi…” he repeats sleepily, “mi tesoro.” Gekko breathes.

“I love it when you speak Spanish, Teo.” Iso says, nickname rolling off his tongue tiredly. “I don’t understand it, but it’s…” a huff, “nice.”

Gekko has a feeling he wanted to say something else, “Yeah?”

Iso realizes he’s fucking done for (again), “¿Te gusta cuando hablo español, mi tesoro?”

“Augh, stop it,” Iso rolls his eyes, pushing Gekko’s face back by his chin, looking away, laughing just a little bit. “You’re such a tease, sha bī.”

“Aww, is that another cute nickname?”

“No. I called you an idiot.”

“Oh. Chúpamela.” Gekko deadpans, flicking Iso’s forehead with little to no remorse.

Iso laughs and realizes that this is all he has ever wanted. This was bliss, and Iso has felt this way for as long as he was in Gekko’s presence. He moves ever so slightly, just so he can smell Gekko’s cologne, and his new boyfriend allows it. It smells of lemon zest with the faint undertones of green apple and vanilla. Iso swears that he can smell the tiniest bit of cedarwood. That combination with Gekko’s personal musk makes him dizzy. (Pun intended)

“You smell good.”

“You like my cologne? I wanted to try a new one.” Gekko says breathily, drumming the pads of his fingers on Iso’s back in a rhythmic pattern.

“I know. You smelled different.” Iso mumbles, inhaling. “I like this one better, though. The other one was too…” He thinks of a descriptor, “Smoky.”

“I used to layer two colognes,” Gekko admits, “The footnotes on it were tobacco, vanilla, then uhh… truffle, I think.”

“Too smoky.”

“It was a gift from Brimstone. I felt kinda bad,” He mumbled, “I’d feel better if he taught me how the hell he got his score so high in the video games in the basement.”

“You’re still trying to beat it?”

“Yeah.”

“… wait, you noticed that I changed my cologne?” Gekko blinks, looking down at Iso, who looks up to him bashfully.

“Maybe,” he exhales, adjusting his position to face away from Gekko, “it’s a very discernible smell— anyone would notice.”

“Sure.”

Gekko slightly spoons Iso, resting his head atop his, breathing in. “Damn, your hair smells like…” he thinks, “Tangerines?” he says with a slight hint of confusion in his voice.

“It’s just my shampoo,” Iso hums, shifting himself to tilt his head up at Gekko, “I like tangerines.”

“Me too,” Gekko says.

Quietly, Iso asks, “We just gonna stay like this?”

“What time is it?”

Iso looks at the alarm clock to the side. Before he can speak, his stomach grumbles, which prompts Gekko to ask instead, “Have you eaten?”

“I had breakfast.”

“You need to eat.”

Iso exhales knowing there’s no stopping Gekko– he’s already getting up and Iso follows that action. It’s quick, it’s swift, and his new boyfriend grabs his wrist and pulls him up onto his feet, intertwining their hands. They’ve held hands before– you know, in cases where Gekko is dragging him through a crowd at a festival or Iso has to pull him away from getting distracted while the agents go shopping. But this was different. The old Iso would probably tug his hand away, but the new Iso is comforted by this scenario– better yet, he seeks it. He never wants to let go of it and he doesn’t think he ever will. Gekko’s touch is grounding and Iso feels his mind go quiet as their fingers interlace. His free hand comes to remove his headphones and awkwardly puts them in the case, shoving his hand into his pocket.

“Alright.”

He’s gotten used to this.

hope you enjoyed! it's my second valorant fic i've written, so hopefully i did them justice.

here's my twitter! check it out please i need moots (not just valorant) LMAO

[mxfortunecookie]

Right… so originally this wasn’t gonna be …angsty? (I don’t know what it would be considered) I was just gonna draw some fun poses with him in the dress hanging out with nightmare

but, my playlist decided to kill me while drawing, so yeah, this came out instead.

Those poses were a fuckin bitch though. Had to redo them, like, three times each …I think it came out alright considering that though

I just wanted to draw Cross in a dress, not this bs 😭

W. Out text | shading | flats

Line art | sketch

Bonus: Concept drawing

This has always been a dress I think of when thinking of Cross, I just don’t draw dresses usually, so yeah, finally got to drawing it

Credits-

Cross: Jakei95

Nightmare: Jokublog

[finniestoncrane]

Me again, deciding to pop in during the middle of lab while I wait for my crucible to cool. Do you have any music or playlists you listen to for writing inspo?

fun fact about me: i have to write in complete silence or what i suspect is unmedicated adhd runs fuckin rampant (i can barely write more than a sentence in one go at the best of times lmao) HOWEVER i do have playlists for characters, ome general playlists and also a horrendous playlist which is an insight into my inner psyche

my oc's playlist

arkham!eddie playlist

some disco because duh

my biblioteca pleya-list (that's funny, trust me)

eurodance, rave and house music here

rootin' tootin' outlaw shootin' playist for when i'm playing rdr2

my nightmare playlist where i put most songs i like

[nolita-fairytale]

call sign: tennessee whiskey | rooster x fem!reader & hangman x phoenix | chapter seven

summary: it's been a few days since you docked and love is in the air in sunny san diego. arrangements are made for leave. morning afters bring sobering realities. phoenix wonders if hangman wants something more than their casual arrangement

warnings: fluff, suggestive language, swearing, mentions of death, military & aircraft carrier inaccuracies, second person pov

wc: 4.3k

listen to: the playlist

chapter six | masterlist | chapter eight

Phoenix & Hangman:

Phoenix shoots up in bed like she’s had a nightmare – only the nightmare is that she can’t stop sleeping with Jake fucking Seresin and she actually likes it. Even though they’ve been sleeping together since the first time on the carrier (and it’s now been a few days since they docked), this is the first night they’ve crossed that one specific line. 

He slept in her bed. 

He slept in her barely XL twin-sized bed. 

With her. 

He stayed the fucking night. 

“Bagman,” she grumbles, giving his shoulder an experimental push. 

“Shit! Hangman. Get up!” she yell-whispers, attempting to wake him up again, to no avail. 

“JAKE!!” she exclaims, this time with her full voice, smacking him in the chest. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Phoenix,” he practically cries, his blonde locks in a state of disarray from the night before. “The barracks on fire or something?” 

“No I-, you slept here,” she hisses, practically climbing over him and out of the bed like it’s on fire. 

“No shit,” he groans, shooting a glare her way. 

“You slept here!” she repeats, this time for emphasis as she stands next to the bed in his t-shirt from the night before. It was something she’d slipped over her head after they’d fucked last night… again. 

Jake stares at her blankly. 

“I just… you weren’t supposed to spend the night,” she explains, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Says who?” he asks back, almost defensively. 

Natasha sighs, as she lets her hands fall to her sides. She needs to relax. She knows she needs to relax, but waking up to Hangman and liking it is about the most disturbing thing she’s ever experienced. 

“I mean this is just sex right?” she asks quietly. 

Jake sighs, sitting up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “If you say so. You really want me out of your room so badly, I’ll go.”

He can’t bother to hide his annoyance: for being woken up, for the way Nat fled the bed like a bat out of hell, that she’s so damn stubborn and so damn intent on pushing him away. 

“No! It’s okay,” she concedes, taking a few steps towards, almost as if she’s blocking him from leaving him. She doesn’t mean to be cruel, but she just needs some time to sort through her thoughts about all of this. “Stay. I um, I just-, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

Jake thinks it’s too damn early for them to be having this conversation, so he just groans, laying back in the bed. Regardless of how much Natasha wants to pretend this isn’t a thing, she betrays herself as she stands there in his t-shirt. Hangman folds his arms behind his head, propping himself up as he enjoys the sight. And what a sight it is to see…  He watches as Nat busies herself collecting the things she needs for a shower, sliding her shower shoes before turning back to him. 

“Jake?” she asks, almost as a consolation for practically kicking him out of her bed. 

He responds with an amused yet dissatisfied hum, not sure what he should be bracing himself for. 

“You hungry?” she asks, almost as if she’s blurting out a confession of some kind. 

“Uh… I could eat,” he shrugs, his bed hair messy and much more endearing than she’d ever expect to find it.

“You wanna… grab breakfast?” she asks again, gaining a little more confidence this time. 

“Breakfast?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at the woman. 

She pauses, pressing her lips together. She can’t believe she’s going to say this – make an effort to spend more time with Hangman – but the words fly out of her mouth before she can stop them. 

“Three times…” she shoots back, earning a smirk from Jake as his mind travels back to the events of last night. “I said you could come to breakfast after that.”

“You were counting?” he asks, an amused and arrogant grin spreading across his face. 

“I’m observant, Bagman,” she shuts him down, with a playful eye roll. 

As Natasha leaves, closing the door behind her, Jake takes a few moments just to lay there. She’s still wearing his t-shirt, almost as if she wants someone else to see her in it, even though she’s sending him mixed signals right and left. Jake doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to do – or want she wants, for that matter – stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

On one hand, he could tell her how he feels… but he’s not sure he could live it down if she rejected him – a possibility that feels highly likely at this point. Maybe he should just take what he can get – enjoy the casual, very, very hot sex with the woman of his dreams and accept that maybe be that. He’s thinks about asking you for advice, but decides against it, considering you’re also close with her. He’s not sure who else he’s supposed to talk to about it. 

Rooster? Not likely. 

Maybe Coyote would have some advice for him, though he’s pretty sure Coyote’s going to tell him to do the thing he’s not sure he’s ready to do. 

“Christ,” he sighs to himself, before climbing out of bed. 

He’s got to get dressed and go back to his own room. 

Whiskey & Rooster: 

“Good morning,” you whisper, against Bradley’s skin as you leave a trail of kisses across his bare chest. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says back, smiling as soon as he wakes up to you. “You’re still here.”

“Hmmm? You think I’m the love ‘em and leave ‘em type or what?” you ask, flirtatiously. 

You look up at him, pausing your previous ministrations so that Rooster can press a gentle kiss to your lips. He groans out something about his morning breath before rolling over onto his back, reaching for his water bottle on the bedside table. He takes a few greedy sips before offering it to you so that you hydrate too. 

“Now I can kiss you properly,” he declares, eliciting a chuckle from you as he places the water bottle back on the end table. Bradley returns to you, folding his body over yours, this time pulling you in for a much more passionate kiss. 

“I like when you kiss me properly,” you smile, your eyes glimmering as they meet his. 

“I just like kissing you,” he replies, sweetly.

 He leans down, kissing you again, hands tenderly slipping underneath his t-shirt you put on last night before bed. You kiss him back, just enough so that he knows you’re into it, before deciding to share your little idea with him. It had been a few days of meetings, debriefings, paperwork, and today was the day the Dagger Squad would be officially released for leave. While excited for the break, you’re not quite ready to part ways with Bradley yet. 

“So… I have this idea…” you pitch to him, feeling as his hands pause their movements underneath your shirt. “And you can totally say no if you think it’s too much.” 

“What’s up?” he asks you, admiring how the morning light hits your forehead as he snuggles up to you. 

“I know we have the rest of the week off since the mission was moved up. And a lot of us were promised a few weeks of leave too,” you continue. 

“Yeah, I uh… don’t have to report back to Oceana for another two weeks or so but I might stick around for a bit… catch up with Mav,” Bradley chimes in. 

“That sounds nice. I don’t want to take you away from quality time with Maverick by any means…,” you continue.  “... but I was planning on heading up to Encinitas for the weekend. I have friends there who have this fancy pants house who are in Europe right now. Would you… maybe want to come with me? Just for the weekend so you can still catch up with Maverick!”

“For the whole weekend?” Bradley asks, like a dog whose ears have just perked up.

“Yeah, a long weekend or something. Leave tomorrow. Come back Monday or so?” you propose, hopefully. 

“And what would we do… for the whole weekend,” Bradley smirks, earning a giggle from you as he leans down to kiss you once more. 

“Hm… well, I was thinking of very, very PG-rated kinds of activities. You know… we could hold hands, share one milkshake with two straws… and if you’re lucky I may let you feel me up over my shirt when you take me to a drive-in movie,” you joke, playing along with how silly he’s being. 

Bradley lets out a hearty laugh as he says, “Oh, second base? I’m a lucky guy.”

“That you are.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before answering. It’s a no-brainer decision – to say yes. He wants to get to know you better and a whole weekend off with you sounds like a great way to do it. 

“That sounds like… way more than I deserve,” he smiles, pulling you closer to him, as if you’re not already laying your head on his chest. 

“Don’t say that!” you protest, rubbing a hand over the hard planes of muscle on his chest. 

“No, you’re right. It sounds perfect,” he replies, quickly course-correcting. 

“Okay,” you smile, snuggling into him, before asking, “What’re you going to do today?”

“What do you mean?!” he practically groans in protest of the idea that you’d be doing anything. “I planned on staying in bed all day with you, Whiskey.”

You giggle in response, raising your head up so you can look at him, “I wish I could but I have a few errands to run today, Bradshaw. Besides, I’ve got to meet with Cyclone today to officially be put on leave.”

“What?!” he protests again, earning a sweet peck on the lips from you. 

“We can stay in bed all three days when we head up to Encinitas. Preferably in something bigger than a twin,” you reassure him. 

He laughs, conceding to you as he says, “Alright. Fine.”

You stay in bed with Rooster for a little while longer, letting him give you the best morning head of your life. He’s really trying to make it impossible for you to leave this bed – change your mind about what you have going on today. But you’ve got a meeting with Cyclone and that is the non-negotiable that eventually gets you out of bed and back to your room to get ready. 

You’re not quite sure why you need to have such an official mission, aside from getting released for leave, but Cyclone had put more time on your calendar than you expected. Of course, those selected to be active Daggers this go round had been in a few debriefings over the last few days, so you were curious to see what this meeting would be about. 

You sit down in your perfectly pressed khaki uniform in front of the admiral, your hair pulled back in a perfectly-groomed bun so that you don’t look like you’d just rolled out of Bradley Bradshaw’s bed. 

As you sit down with the admiral and he begins his debrief, you’re surprised to find you have mixed feelings about what the man has to say:

A deployment. A mission.

“We are giving special preference for a second mission for those that weren’t selected to fly the uranium enrichment. You’d deploy out to Hawaii in three weeks. Shouldn’t take more than a month. If you accept, you can use the next few weeks as leave. If not, we’ll send you right back to your squadron at Lemoore to report for duty there,” Cyclone explains. 

“With the extension of the Dagger Squad, we are considering making this detachment more… permanent… This second mission will tell us more about what we may need to assemble it in regards to funding. It’s still a year or two out, but our plan is to test out a few more special assignments with this detachment over the next year or so, collect the data, pass the right bills in Congress – you know, all the glamorous stuff,” Cyclone explains. 

Your heart flutters in your chest. A chance to fly a special mission and an opportunity to help make the Dagger Squad an official special detachment? 

“After, you’ll return to your squadron, but could be called in for duty at a moment’s notice. Is this something you’d be interested in?” he asks, sternly. 

“Yes, sir,” you answer. 

“And the mission?” he asks again. 

You’re not sure if you have a choice – but since it’s a special assignment and since he’s asking – you give yourself a brief moment to think it over. One one hand the last few weeks has made you more ready, more vigilant than ever which gives you a huge advantage should you fly this mission. On the other, you’d deploy right after your leave – a tight turnaround, timewise. 

“I’d like to accept the mission. Thank you, sir,” you say, before you even realize the words are coming out of your mouth. 

The rest is a blur as Cyclone hands you your assignment, tucking it away into your bag. Sure you were playing the long game here, but now you had to figure out how the hell to tell Bradley? A deployment… raises the stakes a little. You’re just glad you have a little time today to run errands, drive around… think things through. 

*

Natasha snacks on some chips, well aware that she’s getting crumbs all over your bed. Not that you’re using it anyway – an obvious fact as the unslept-in bed is still perfectly made from the day before. 

“You get me a bunk violation, Trace, and I’ll tell them it was you,” you threaten, playfully. 

“You wouldn’t!” she gasps, dramatically.

“I would!” you fire back.

“With friends like these…” she laughs dryly. 

Regardless of your warning, Natasha continues snacking on your bed, watching carefully as you pack a bag for your weekend in Encinitas with Rooster. You’ve folded up a few sun dresses, and have laid out the rest of your things that you’ll be adding to your seabag. 

“So you and Rooster… going away for the weekend… sounds…?” she asks, satisfied with herself for what she considers a successful set up. 

“Hot?” you suggest, quirking an eyebrow in her direction. 

“I was going to say ‘romantic’,” she answers, shooting you another look. 

“It’s-... I think we’re just… going to relax, unwind from the last few weeks, maybe… try to figure out what we both want out of this,” you reply, adding another stack of folded pajamas into your duffle, making sure to pack each thing strategically. 

“Well, I can see what else you’re planning on doing,” she smirks, holding up a pair of lacy panties, tag still attached. 

“Give me those!” you exclaim, as she throws the panties in your direction. 

You catch them, making sure to tear off the tag in a manner that won’t rip the recently-purchased lingerie. 

“You know… I got it today. Ran some errands in La Jolla after my meeting with Cyclone,” you hint, shooting her a suggestive look as you continue with, “Let me know if you need the address… for, you know….”

“Whiskey!” she exclaims. She pauses, and you can see the gears turning in her head. “I-... I don’t think so. Jake and I are just… casual.”

“Jake, huh?” you tease her, considering you’ve rarely heard her call him that.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes in return. 

“He said?” you question, in regards to her comment earlier. 

“No, I did!” she declares, thinking back to this morning when she practically kicked him out of her bed. 

You send her a curious look, wondering why she’s fighting you so damn hard about this. Wasn’t she the one that set you up with Rooster in the first place? Where was the I-believe-in-love-Natasha-Trace that had parent-trapped you and Rooster into going on a date? Your mind wanders back to the night at Tango Del Rey, curious to whether Jake took your advice. It was so damn obvious to maybe everyone BUT Nat and Jake that they were better suited for each other than either of them would admit. 

“Whiskey…” she whines before clarifying with, “...he knows it’s just casual. I mean, come on! It's Hangman! I-, I don't really expect anything more when it comes to him.”

You can tell that her defenses are high – that she’s protecting herself, but you’re not sure what to say in return. On one hand, if you told her how he felt, would it be a betrayal of your friendship with Jake? Or would Nat just feel like you were taking his side? You suppose this is the downside of setting up friends: getting caught in the middle. 

And you’re not interested in doing that. 

But your silence is eating away at her, as Nat waits anxiously for you to say something – anything, really. 

“Well now you're making me second guess,” Nat says quietly, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you continue to chew on your bottom lip. 

“Phoenix…” you sigh, trailing off. “I... I don't know. I don’t want to get in the middle of this. Really. I don’t. But I think you underestimate Jake. I… think he has more feelings than you think.”

She shouldn’t be surprised, but she is, as she asks you:

“Like in general or about me?”

You chuckle at her surprise that Jake isn’t actually a robot. 

“Both, I think,” you reply, honestly. 

She sighs. 

Fuck, you’ve given her some things to think about. 

Maybe she was too hard on him this morning. It’s not like she’d actually asked him what he wanted out of this – just jumped to conclusions because it’s Bagman after all! But she’s not sure she’s ready to have this conversation with you, let alone him. 

After taking a moment to think it over, she jumps up, sweeping a few crumbs off of your bed before asking:

“So… hypothetically, if I wanted to run that errand… could I use your car?” 

You smile triumphantly, nodding towards your nightstand, “Of course. Keys are over there.”

*

By the time Natasha gets to the Hard Deck, her friends are already there. Perhaps it was her little errand in La Jolla that took longer than she thought, or maybe it was all the thinking she had to do – deciding to take the long way home instead. 

You and Rooster are already there, and what she sees completely warms her heart. She’s not sure what she’s more proud of – getting the two of you together or the success of the mission. You're seated on his lap while Rooster bangs away at the piano, his aviators practically falling off his nose, as you run your fingers over some of the keys. 

As Natasha spots the Dagger Squad, she sees Hangman and Coyote playing a game of darts. Bob is seated at a high top table, working through a bowl of peanuts, while Fanboy, Payback, and Halo play a game of pool. After snagging a beer at the bar, she approaches her group of friends, pausing to eavesdrop on whatever the hell Jake is going on about. 

“Y’know what’s funny, Coyote?” she can hear Jake complain.

“Huh?” Coyote hums, more focused on lining up the pool queue than Jake’s rant. 

“She’s just as good, if not a better piano player than Rooster. But she’s just sitting there, letting him hog the spotlight. The ego on that guy,” he grumbles, incredulously.

“You’re one to talk,” Coyote fires back, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“She’ll show him in time. She better,” Jake continues, almost as a warning. 

“How do you know she hasn’t? They can’t keep their hands off each other,” Coyote asks, nodding towards where you and Rooster are seated at the piano. 

Rooster gives you a tight squeeze as he finishes one song, and Hangman’s on the edge of fake vomiting as you turn your head to kiss him. 

“Ew! That’s not what I was-, c’mon Coyote,” Jake groans, because the last thing he wants to think about is you and Rooster doing the do. 

“Women,” Jake scoffs, in disapproval of you and Rooster’s very public displays of affection. 

“Speaking of,” Coyote says, nodding towards Phoenix. Jake’s face falls. He shoots Coyote a look that says ‘how do you know?! Does everyone know?’

“Oh come on, man. Neither one of you are stealth pilots,” Coyote adds, cheekily. 

Natasha clears her throat, earning the attention of both aviators. 

“Hey, Coyote,” she greets. “Bagman.” 

“I’ll just uh-, yeah, Imma let you two do… whatever this is,” Coyote stammers, gesturing towards the two of them as he excuses himself. 

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” Nat remarks, amused. She nods towards the dart board – the one that Hangman’s just hit the bullseye on all three times. “Can I buy you a drink? I’ll even play a round.”

“That’s a loosing game for you Trace,” Hangman warns flirtatiously. 

“That so?” she asks back, raising an eyebrow at the man. 

She knows that Hangman’s an exceptional dart player, but she likes to push his buttons – likes to see how far she can wind him up before the tension between them snaps. 

Jake smirks, taking a few steps towards the dartboard to retrieve all three darts. He takes his time, knowing that Natasha’s eyes are glued to him as he moves. Pulling down the darts, he collects the three in his hands before making his way back to her. 

“Yeah,” Hangman answers, offering up his dart-filled palm to his lover. “But get us a round of drinks and I just might let you win.”

“No need, hangman,” she dismisses, taking a step forward. Her hand closes over his as she takes the darts out of his hand. “If I'm gonna win, I wanna win fair and square.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then. Let’s make it interesting, Phoenix,” he proposes, stepping aside so that she can shoot first. “You win and I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night.”

Natasha turns to face the dartboard, lining herself up for a good shot. She knows money isn’t much to him, but she’s willing to go along with it. This is their foreplay after all. 

“And I win?” she asks, her eyes trained on the dartboard as she throws the first dart, hitting the bullseye right away. 

“If you win, what?” Jake asks, moving so that he can whisper the next part in her ear. “Watcha willing to put on the line, Trace?”

Certainly not her heart.

She turns her head, ever so slightly, realizing that Jake is standing unceremoniously close to her. She smirks, realizing that her little game of cat and mouse has already begun – Jake, eager and more than willing to play along

“If you win, you get to see what I’m wearing underneath these jeans,” she coos, sending her second dart straight to the bullseye, earning a low whistle from Hangman. 

“Nothing, I hope,” he banters back, his presence behind her becoming more and more evident. 

“Try again,” she answers, a fire in her eyes that makes Jake feel like it’s ten degrees hotter inside the Hard Deck.

“You buy something for me, Trace?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his ask. 

She takes a beat, letting the anticipation between them build before she throws the last dart. After practically throwing Jake out of her room this morning, it’s the only way she knows how to say the thing she never thought she’d want to say to Jake Seresin: 

I’m sorry. 

Sorry for being an ass earlier – sorry for kicking you out of my bed.

Because after your talk with her earlier, and the drive back from La Jolla, she was beginning to wrap her head around the impossible – that Jake Seresin might actually have feelings for her.

“I bought something for myself…” she corrects him, throwing the dart intentionally so it just misses the bullseye. She’s willing to let him win this one, but she’s not willing to let him win by that much. 

She turns her head to complete her sentence with, “But I think you’ll like them too.”

Leaving him high and dry (and maybe a little more turned on than Jake expected to be after hearing that Natasha freakin’ Trace may be wearing lingerie for him), she walks towards the dartboard. She pulls the three darts away for them, collecting them in the palm of her hand before returning to Hangman, his jaw only slightly agape. 

“Your turn.” 

He clears his throat, his competitive streak getting the best of him. 

He turns to the dartboard, and without hesitation hits the bullseye all three times. 

With a triumphant look on his face, he turns to Natasha before saying, “You lost.”

“I did,” she agrees, taking another step towards. 

“Because sometimes you gotta lose the battle to win the war, Bagman. And if you were a better pilot, you might understand that,” she explains, challengingly. 

“I’m a great pilot and you know it,” he replies, the words so quiet they practically fall against her lips. He’d kiss her if he knew what they were doing, but he doesn’t and he’s not sure what the rest of the squadron would think. Not that he cares what they think – only, he also does. Before he can give into his worst instincts, he nods to the door instead. 

“Finish up your beer and I can give you seven minutes in heaven in my truck.” 

“Seven minutes? More like seven seconds,” she teases back. 

“Oh you’re so gonna get it, Phoenix,” he mutters underneath his breath.

“I hope so.”

read: chapter eight

*

a/n: jake totally likes natasha there i said it. next chapter will be all about rooster and whiskey's weekend in encinitas. eeeek!

taglist: @not-two-shrimp @wishfulwithwine @hangmanscoming @thefourrealms@hlkwrites @dlea203 @translatemunson@starlightstories @genius2050

[raiden-brannigan]

Higgs, 2,5, and 12 please

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Honestly?? Outside of his entire backstory and how deep you can dive into his layers (fuckin love that shit) his design fucking rules so hard. Like 10/10 character design unironically, and Troy Baker knocked it out of the park with his voice/mannerisms.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Honestly anything on my Higgs playlist is a contender, but Down With The Sickness is unironically the song I associate him with the most. Call me basic or cringe but that's one of the songs that sparked me making that playlist and the Vibe I wanted throughout it.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I like to think Higgs was always touchy, even before meeting Amelie and going crazy terrorist. Always has his hand on the shoulder/arm of whoever he's talking to, always shaking hands with people, etc etc. That boy is Traumatized and copes the exact opposite way Sam does, he NEEDS to be touching people constantly. It's just Amelie's influence is what made it stray into "creepy licking people" territory.

Also he has Bad nightmares. Not just the DOOMS nightmares, but of his uncle. Of waking up trapped in a cramped bunker again. After he escapes the Beach he has dreams where he's still trapped there forever, and he wakes up shaking and sobbing trying to calm himself down as he slowly realizes he's not there anymore. I figure he doesn't get a ton of sleep lmao

(Send me a character and a number!)

[moonmoonthecrabking]

What are your jagertitty ship songs?

HELLO ANON!!! so here is the playlist!!!!!!

and i'm going to go through the songs :)

this one is so jagertitty, and not just because i called siren au "fight so dirty, but you love so sweet". it's like, they're so desperately in love with each other, so sacrificially, but so murderously. they're both predators, but at times become each other's prey.

max and grace are both hungry. hungry for power, hungry for each other. i think they do love each other, yeah, but grace is ready to kill him, and max still throws her under the bus when talking to kyle (i will not rest until i taste grace chastity's little peach). lotta food metaphors with these two.

no it's no because i've watched this scene from glee ten times this weekend what do you mean what do you mean. this one's on here because, granted, while i don't think either of them would cheat on each other, grace does fuckin kill him. she's cold hearted and conniving, despite that, if they actually dated, she'd be the one getting that warning

first off, title idea. idk if i wanna say it because i feel like it gives the concept away too much, and it'd be a oneshot. war and love, them. they are each other's downfall, in one way or another. they are doomed. beloveds.

i think it encapsulates the absolute need they have for each other and how head over heels they are, how much they're into each other. they both want to be the other's obsession, and neither (i dont think) has really had sexual (grace) or romantic (max) feelings to this extent before.

it bops.

not the most accurate, arguably grace has too much character. but like. specifically at the end, she has begun to manage her facade. no one warned max that she'd be Like That (tbf he was into it) because no one really could.

insert o mio padre there's a ghost in my body here. another fic idea. :)

au where grace sings this while max gets dragged to hell

there's also britney spears toxic (i'm addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic, works both ways). mammamia maneskin (max is "all eyes on me, i feel like a superstar" because he likes power and being perceived as being powerful, and i think "give me a command and i'll do what you ask bc my favourite music's your uh uh" works well for both of them, but specifically max to grace. but like. dirty dirty girl won't you sing for me). vampire olivia rodrigo (grace had to give up her chastity, and yeah she had to but she still lost something that mattered most to her. and loathes it. max because he fucking killed her. twice.) and judas lady gaga because "you betrayed me! you fucken judas!" "SO YOU DO KNOW THE BIBLE!"

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 6

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. I'm back!

Sorry for the two-week wait, and thank you for your patience. I'm so lucky to have such wonderful readers :)

Please enjoy this chapter!

The CDC shuts down in ripples.

The ceiling lights are the first to shut off. The second-hand light from the sconces is next. The fixtures die one by one in a fluttering shockwave down the corridor, leaving the solid darkness to swallow us up as they go. Then the vents turn off, which give out one last breath of cold air before going still above our heads. After that, the electric humming in the walls power down; all those hidden wires, arteries of the CDC's pumping heart of a generator flat-lining all around us. I can't even see past my eyelashes, no more.

As a final goodbye, the neon exit sign cuts out. 

Then, that's it — Total darkness and total silence. Like being trapped inside a coffin underground. I'd never even noticed all the white noise that everything used to give off, but now that it's gone, I want it back. It feels so empty without it.

I become aware of the room again.

The fight has been put on hold. The snot in my nose and the tears in my eyes have been put on hold. It feels like all three of our heartbeats and even our breathing has been put on hold. The air bulges with angry, directionless energy.

I hold my breath for a long, long time, clutching the edge of the sofa like it's a teddy bear. 

The building has died.

How can a building die?

"What the Hell was that?" Shane's voice mutters from somewhere inside the darkness.

We hear distant machinery whirring down.

Shane calls the death of the CDC a what, instead of a who, because nobody in their right mind would kill the power here. This is the last place on Earth that should be without power. I think of mysterious scientific specimens going warm in fridges, and important computer codes being lost forever. I think of the oxygen supply down here going stagnant. No, people would die before they let this happen.

I get goosepimples down my arms.

Maybe someone already has.

"Harley." A tight whisper. "Where are you?"

W— Wait, was that Dad or Shane?

Boot-steps slowly approach me.

A big hand bumps into my shoulder and feels its way down my arm.

Who—? Who is that? It might be my Dad. He was closer, last time I could see him, but I don't know.

I don't know if this is the nice hand or the mean hand. It could be Shane's, who was reaching out to me, or it could be my Dad's, who was raising the belt. There aren't supposed to be nice hands and mean hands. That's stupid. Hands are hands. My Dad's hands rocked me to sleep when I was a baby, and they lifted me onto his shoulders when I was a toddler, and they soothe circles into my back whenever I have nightmares. They pinch my cheeks and brush my hair. Those are all nice touches. I should not be scared, and yet my body is telling me that if this is my Dad's hand, I should be.

I don't remember deciding that. It goes against everything I've ever been taught.

When the fingers reach my hand, I flinch away.

I realize I don't want my own Dad to touch me.

"Hey, it's me. It's just me."

Oh, it's— it's not my Dad.

It's Shane.

I shudder against the sofa like a petrified little bunny rabbit.

I keep my mouth sealed tight, refusing to answer.

Even now, I'm still thinking about the consequences to breaking my Dad's rules. Cops are lying bastards and they can't help us, is a phrase I've come to live by. I lived by it when I told Rick I wished he was dead, and I should live by it again, now. I should tell Shane to get away from me, because my Dad wouldn't want me talking to him. My Dad's word is law. He's the angel and the devil that have made their homes on my shoulders. He's my bible; my rulebook, the worm in my ear. He's never been wrong about anything. 

I'm so, so conflicted.

In one ear, I hear my Dad saying, Don't you fuckin' speak to her. In the other, I hear my heart, saying, Answer Shane. He'll help you.

Am I gonna get in trouble for this?

I stay quiet for so long that Shane decides to speak again.

"Are you hurt anywhere, Harley?" He murmurs.

There are rattling sounds in the background. I think my Dad's tryna open the panel for the back-up power, near the bookcase. I saw that there was one in almost every room. I hope he can't hear what Shane's saying.

"You need to tell me, sweetheart," Shane says, "So I can help you. Okay?"

Shane's still using his police-man voice, but it's not the one that he must use on criminals. It's not the one he used on my Dad. It's softer, gentler. It's the one he must use on people he's saving. He's letting me know that he's my friend; he's going to help me. Nobody has ever helped me with this, before. I didn't know I was supposed to need help. I thought getting beat was just a part of life.

Sometimes, cops don't have to be brave in the face of danger. They have to be brave in the face of crying children, and bloody teddy bears, and angry men wearing wedding rings. I know, 'cause the cops used to be out the front of our neighbour Tristan's house almost every night. Their emergency car lights would dash across my bedroom window in the middle of the night. They were the color of toxic frogs — red-blue, red-blue, red-blue — like the ones I'd see on the Discovery channel during the day, so bright that they warn all the other animals to stay away. When I peeked through the shades, I'd see Tristan's Dad on his porch, putting on a charming smile as they questioned him. Then the police would knock on our door and ask my Dad what he heard. He'd tell them things like, yelling, dishes being thrown at walls, crying. They'd scribble it down on a tiny notepad, and that's exactly where it stayed, every single time. Nobody ever came to save Tristan. I wonder if Shane has seen a house like that; if he knows the signs of broken people.

I wonder if he knows more about what I'm going through than I do.

But I'm not broken. I don't need saving. My Dad is nothin' like Tristan's Dad; nothin' like Sophia's. That's why the cops were never outside our house. That's why I'm smarter than the other kids, 'cause I know that even though my Dad hits me, it only makes me better.

Panicked, I silently shake my head, no.

By answering Shane, I'm bending my Dad's rules just a little bit, but maybe I can convince him that I don't need any help at all. He can just scribble my life onto a scrap of paper and throw it in the wind, and I won't ever have to feel this way again. I'm only answering to make him go away.

"What was that?" Shane whispers.

I feel him tilt his ear closer to my mouth.

Oh, right. He can't see me. It's too dark. I have to gain the courage to answer all over again. I take a deep, deep breath. It shakes in my throat.

"No." I whisper, glancing over to where the rattling is coming from; where my Dad is standing on the other side of the room. I make my voice steady; believable. "Not hurt."

"Anywhere?" Shane questions, making me worry he doesn't buy it. His voice is the stern police-voice again, like he's interrogating me; like my answer is very, very important and he's going to stash it away somewhere to use later. That makes me even more anxious. I don't want this to get brought up again, not ever, and especially not by Shane. I just want to forget about all this.

"No." I say again, hiding the pink, chafed skin on my wrist as if he can see it.

There's a pause. I wait.

Then he speaks again, but in the nice voice.

"Okay. Very good, Harley."

The rattling becomes a slam, and I jump.

"Nothin'. Whole place is dead." My Dad's voice comes. The panel squeaks on its hinges. Then, "Where is everybody?"

Oh. I realize that we should be hearing our people. Where are they? There should be doors opening and foot-steps pattering around. We should be hearing Carol comforting Sophia, and Rick reassuring everyone that we'll figure this out. We should be hearing Glenn asking questions, and Dale asking even more from the next room over. There should be confusion all up and down the corridor. There should be voices, everywhere.

I focus very hard on the silence.

There's nothing.

"I don't know." Shane admits.

"You don't know?" My Dad mocks him, angry. "You's the last one with 'em."

"Hey. All I know is that the water got shut off 'bout ten minutes ago. We were all washing up after dinner; sinks just went dry. I was headed back down here to check how much bottles of the stuff we got left when I ran into you." He lets out a big breath. "Think we all know how that went."

Found you beatin' the shit outta your own kid, the silence says all too loudly. It stretches for so long that I almost start to think that their voices were hallucinations the whole time, and that I'm actually alone. But no, there's a warm hand in mine, and beside me, there's breathing. Heavy breathing. Angry breathing. I can tell that they both still want to kill each other. Shane was designed to hate people like my Dad, and my Dad was designed to hate people like Shane right back. They don't even gotta know anythin' about each other, except that we come from two entirely different worlds that weren't meant to mix.

"Yeah, well ya found us. Congrats." Dad's voice comes shootin' back. "You know why the water got shut off in the first place?"

Right. The water.

"No, but I reckon it's got somethin' to do with the power dying." Shane forces himself to answer. "You got a flashlight in y'all's room?"

There's a tightly-wound pause, and then my Dad spits, "Yeah."

"Looks like we won't be stumblin' around in the dark for much longer, then." Shane sighs. "Find the flashlight and try re-group. That's the plan."

"Let's get on with it." Dad's voice snaps. "Harley, let's go. I'm over here. Come grab my hand."

I freeze.

I'm holding Shane's hand already, and he doesn't even know.

Do what Dad says. My Dad has lots of rules for me, but this is the simplest one I've ever had to follow. I've never needed to think about it, just like I've never needed to think about how to breathe, or blink, or digest food. My body just does it all on its own — Ain't no thinking involved. Even a moron could follow this rule, and my Daddy ain't raised no moron. But I'm still sitting here on the floor, like a big, stupid moron, 'cause following this rule ain't comin' so naturally this time. It ain't like blinking, no more. It's like swallowing a rock.

I hear Dad let out a breath at my silence, either impatient, or desperate, or both. "Harley," He grinds out. "Come here."

I don't want to run to my Dad, but if I stay with Shane, I'll just be getting myself into even more trouble. I can't decide which is worse.

I don't know what to do. 

"Dad, I'm scared."

I almost can't believe I just said that.

I'm scared of the war that's going on inside my head. I'm scared of how I'm clinging onto a police officer's hand, and I'm scared of how my body isn't doing what it knows best, which is to find comfort in my own Dad. I'm scared that nobody's taught me how to feel this way. I'm scared that I'm already in trouble again. I'm scared of what it means when I say I don't want my Dad to touch me. I'm scared.

I'm just so, so scared.

"Don't—" My Dad tries, but then I hear him take a steadying breath, like the words got cracked to pieces inside his throat and he needed to swallow them down. I wait. There's so much I want him to say. I want him to tell me that he knows what's happening to me; that he knows what's wrong with me, and he knows why I can't take a simple beating, and he knows how to fix me. He can fix car engines and broken furniture, so maybe he can fix me, too. I want him to tell me that even though he hurt me, he loves me. I want him to apologize and scold me all at the same time. My Dad finds the words again, and he whispers them to me. "Don't be scared, baby."

I try to regulate my breathing. He's taught me how to do that, before. Maybe I can at least get that right.

"Now come here." My Dad's voice armors itself again. "I'm not askin' you again."

I feel Shane's hand flex.

"Daryl, how 'bout you cover front?" He suggests, but not because he really wants that. "Me and Harley can take up the rea—"

"No need for that." Dad declines. "She's fine wit' me. She knows that. Harley, c'mere."

Yeah, I— I know that. My Dad is the toughest man in camp, and he knows how to keep me safe better than any cop. I know that.

Shane pipes up again. "I just thin—"

"Hang on a second." Dad dismisses. "Harley. Baby, come over here."

Shane answers for me. "She doesn't have to do that."

"I ain't talkin' to you. Harley. Last time. Come here."

I think this is a test, or— or maybe it's just more begging. He's trying to gauge just how scared I really am.

Even though Shane's crouched right beside me, ready to defend me from whatever comes my way, I forget all about him until it's just me and my Dad in the room. I think my Dad's forgotten all about Shane, too; forgotten that he wants to kill him. This is more important to him right now.

It's like the night in the RV again, where my Dad scolded me for picking at my bandage but gave me a kiss afterwards. It was his way of telling me, I disciplined you, but I still love you. I know I could just get up right now, walk over to him and grab his hand like he wants me to, and I'd be telling him, You disciplined me, but I still love you. It would show him that I'm not afraid of him. It would show him it's all forgiven. It would show him that even though I was hurt, I'll recover.

I could, but something is stopping me. I just can't do it. I can't make myself get up.

Choosing to stay with Shane is the lesser of two evils, I decide, so I cower against the sofa and stay right where I am.

For so long that I don't remember ever thinkin' otherwise, I've been taught that even a spanking is a nice touch. It might hurt in the moment, and I might even cry, but it teaches me to never do what I did wrong again. If a dog is smacked upside the head for rippin' up a shoe, it's never gonna touch that shoe again. If I'm smacked upside the head for doin' somethin' dangerous, I'll never do it again. Discipline keeps me safe, and smart, and ready. I wanna be all of those things. My Dad wants me to be those things, too, 'cause he loves me. I've been spanked so many times that I couldn't count even if I used all my fingers and all my toes, but I always picked myself up right afterwards. I'd even feel proud of myself for taking it.

But with each second that passes, I think my Dad is realizing right alongside me that something is actually wrong this time. Whether it was the belt, or the fact we were arguing about my Momma, I don't know. But something broke and it ain't fixing itself, not this time. I'm not getting up. I'm not running to him. I don't forgive him. I'm not okay, and I am scared. I'm even choosing a damn cop over him.

I think that with each second that passes, we lose something that we're never getting back.

"You really gonna make me say it again?" My Dad's voice pretends to be an angry voice, but it takes on a nervous wobble that I ain't never heard before.

He's always told me that being afraid is a sign of weakness, and that I ain't weak — I'm brave. I'm his brave girl.

I want to be brave. I want to, I swear, but I can't help being scared.

"Harley. Please get over here." 

I still do not get up.

After a while, he just can't stand trying to beg me no more; can't stand the thought of his own daughter being afraid of him. He's done asking. It's time to do what he does best, which is not giving me a choice in the matter.

"Harley! Come here!"

Even officer Shane flinches.

As if I've just been shot at, I jump to my feet. I scurry through the darkness toward my Dad's voice. Shane's fingers snag on the back of my shirt, and I almost knock into three different hidden pieces of furniture, but I make sure I get over there like my life depends on it. There's that strange blockage in my body again, screaming at me that I shouldn't be doin' this, just as it would scream at me if I was running into a burning house. I can't listen to it. I can't listen to my own body, or my heart, or even my own voice, and I don't know why I ever thought I could, 'cause my Dad's voice is the only one that matters. I bump into his hip, and he catches me; grabs my arm. I try not to gasp.

I can't see it exactly, but when he squats a little to get in my face, I can imagine his frowning brows and his flaring nostrils.

"You're fine wit' me." He says, laying each word down very slowly. "You know that, don't you?"

He's not asking, no more. I am not afraid. I just have to believe this.

"I know."

No, I don't. Not completely. There will never be a moment in my life again where I know that. If I ever break a rule or anger my Dad, I'll be glancing at his pants-line, anticipating the clink and the rustle and the whip. I'll only feel safe in half-measures, 'cause even if I have memories of my Dad singing me to sleep, and patiently teaching me to fish, and cutting the crusts off my bread, and joking with me on early morning bike-rides, my body has a memory of its own — Tonight. 

I've learnt another lesson. Be afraid of Dad.

"Alright." He hesitates to say, grabbing onto my hand. I wonder if he even believes his own words. It doesn't matter. We don't have enough time to figure this out, not right now. The CDC is dead, and our friends are missing. "Let's go. Shane, you can take up the damn rear on yer own."

I can hear more of that angry breathing behind us.

"Lead the way, buddy."

I am very glad to leave the games room.

Author's Note.

This chapter KICKED. MY. ASS.

I'm sorry there's only one scene. I just needed to post it so I could get it out of my mind, and be able to move on. For some reason I totally lost my writing groove on this one. I was feeling very frustrated with how it was turning out, and I had to write about six other drafts before I finally came across one that felt right, which is the one you just read. At long last, I made it out alive!! I hate writer's block.

Hope you enjoyed reading. As always, sending love! :)

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/13/2023

very games-centric week

listening

this opening bit samples bowie's life on mars and sounds like a piano cover of a half-remembered but still beloved childhood anime. like the kind you had a set of two VHS clamshells for but only episodes 4-6 and 10-12. it goes on the "lofi beats to data and entry to" playlist. spotify

-

reading

fallow week

-

watching

the folks at waypoint games, formerly vice's leftist games vertical, BOUGHT THE BRAND FROM VICE and are rebranding as remap. i wish them all the fuckin best and i hope they succeed but i feel like we have maybe six months of this before one of them goes literally bankrupt from a doctor's visit bc healthcare is such a fuckin nightmare in this country. im simply not excited for starfield. i am not interested in corporate nasa

anyway i enjoyed their commentary, excited for compulsion games' southern gothic action/adventure spellcaster South of Midnight

neutrally optimistic about obsidian's Avowed, bc i do love obsidian but i do not love sword and sorcery rpgs

there's airships in microsoft flight simulator so i may genuinely buy one month of gamepass to try that out

capcom's path of the goddess looks fucking gorgeous but i have never played more than half an hour of a capcom game and i expect i never will. is this topdown? is this isometric? what the fuck is the gameplay mode??? who could FUCKING say

also there's a new jersey fallout 76 expansion coming at some point. in real life i hate atlantic city and i don't really how know this will look or play differently from point lookout. i don't know if i want to play a much-reviled cash cow mmorpg just to get postapoc jersey lore. if this leads up to 5 being set in nyc im going to be real pissed off. go somewhere DIFFERENT. there are DIFFERENT PLACES on the east coast!!! blease

-

playing

viddy game can consistently turn my brain off enough that i forget im moving cross country in two weeks and can forcibly relax my body for twenty mintues at a time between packing boxes. so there's been a lot of pomodoro-ing, or my version which is: pack until i get so anxious i physically cannot pack anymore, go have a snack, go play twenty minutes of a video game, and then go pack until i am on the verge of a panic attack again. this is not healthy but all my books are packed. all of these were free on epic at some point btw which is why i own them

the first time i played Airborne Kingdom, i lost track of time and beat it in one sitting in eight hours. the second time i played Airship Kingdom, i replicated that exact experience. i have allied with all the kingdoms and have like two hundred souls on board but am not QUITE selfsufficient enough to take on the northern/artic sea DLC. stay tuned. soundtrack in this thing is great.

bounced VERY hard off Close to the Sun, a bioshock-lite i put about four hours/three levels into. a huge gilded age cruise ship where the science has Gone Wrong would normally be catnip to me, but the game did brutally kill the player character's sister in front of me in an unskippable cutscene so we're done with that game now THANK YOU. it is very slow, which i do like in a game that gives you this much stuff to look at, but there is no gamma control. this game is so fucking dark. i played it in a dark room with no lights and it was still too dark.

pinged off the typing exploration game Epistory despite its charming art, bc fast and accurate typing is something covid has taken from me.

rediscovered Carcassone (online) which is great bc i love Carcassone and own a physical copy of the board game but no one else in my life loves it. tile-building countryside-building game, seconds to learn, etc. thank you board game review even though there are no meeple in their natural habitat (the board) in this picture

-

making

it's gonna be putting things into boxes for the forseeable future (the next week) and then living out of them for a while (the next two weeks after that)

[takethistoyourstardust]

Mage Ranks the JD2023E Map… Locked Out of Heaven

IT’S BLORBO TIME BITCHES. Um, I mean, we’re getting a bit dramatic now in our story line, as we meet Jack Rose, the flamboyant superstar son of our main villain!

MAP: Locked Out of Heaven - Bruno Mars DIFFICULTY: Medium EFFORT: Moderate JD+ NEEDED?: No SEASON: Base game/Enter the dancerverses playlist

Category Seven Autism Event inbound under the cut! Seriously, though, this one is long, ramble-y, and overall just a big excuse for me to infodump the fuck out of this map. It might not make a lot of sense, but putting it all down made me happy, so I hope it makes you happy to read it :)!

--

I don’t need to tell you this song is good, right? It’s Bruno fuckin’ Mars, of COURSE it’s good! This song was actually pre-Uptown Funk, and it’s honestly one of his best songs from that time. I actually hated a lot of early Bruno Mars stuff (Grenade my beloathed), but now he’s probably one of my favorite vocalists. So yeah, I don’t need to tell you the song fucks! You already know that!

However, it’s the way that this song is used that fascinates me. The original context of the song is just “wanting to spend the night at someone’s house because they’re real good in the sack”, and the JD team saw that and went “But What If It’s About Parental Neglect” and ran with it. During the second verse, Night Swan’s face keeps taking over the background, that’s supposed to just be reflections of Jack dancing. And during that final chorus, after the first gold move where Jack is on his knees, and Night Swan Tower reveals itself, the jumbotrons that had Jack’s face on it are replaced by the tower’s visage, as the chorus sings “I’ve been locked out of heaven/for too long/for too long” and it fades back to his room, right where we started. Hell, even before that, he’s pointing to the audience during the lines “Can I just stay here?/Spend the rest of my days here?”, telling us in pretty fucking clear terms that his passion isn’t what he’s supposed to do, but what he wants to do - perform. He’s been locked out of heaven for too long, he’s been kept away from the love a mother should express for her child. And now he’s trying to find that happiness in his performance.

Speaking of, the routine! It’s fucking great! I think it’s ranked pretty fairly in terms of difficulty and effort, but if I can be honest, I found this routine shockingly easy. It’s not the easiest thing in the world, but after the technical nightmare that was Rather Be, and the (slight spoilers) upcoming technical nightmare that is Majesty, I would consider LOoH as almost a breather level. Almost, I say, if it wasn’t for the FIFTEEN SPINS you have to land. Seriously, between the one leg spin-hop, the full circle he makes during the chorus, and even the spin you have to do before the final Gold Move, there’s a reason a lot of people were joking that this song should’ve been called “Spinned Out of Heaven”. But maybe it’s the theater kid in me (it’s probably the theater kid in me), I didn’t find the spins all that difficult or demanding. And both the Gold Moves in this routine are fairly easy, with one being the jump you have to do at the start of the final chorus, and the other being the final move in the entire song, the hand raise that you started with. If I had to complain about one thing, I would say that I wish they had you “holding” the microphone in your right hand more. It’s easy for me to imagine holding the mic while doing certain moves, the bridge of the song being the most obvious, but most of the time it’s “in” your left hand when the game only tracks your right hand. It’s just a bit of a dissonance in my head, where it goes “wait, but i AM holding something in the right hand, why are you saying there’s something in my left?!”. But at that point, that’s just a nitpick.

The whole choreography tells us so much about Jack as a dancer. He’s flamboyant, he’s a showman, he lives for the dramatics. He knows how to work a crowd! His stage presence is amazing.

Speaking of! Jack Rose! The blorbo that has ruined my fucking life!!!

Quick note before I get into this... I’m not crazy when I say his name, Jack Rose, probably comes from the two main characters from Titanic, Jack and Rose, right?! No one else has pointed this out, not even the wiki, and I feel like I’m going fucking crazy. Like I know “Jack” is a very common guy’s name and “Rose” ties into the face his main color is red, but together? That’s a Titanic reference, baby! I’m not the only one who saw that, right?????

Anyways! Look at this man in his red suit, his stupid (affectionate) feather boa shoulder piece, his lipstick matching his hair, his gold glove, his stupid little microphone!!! All of this combined makes for one hell of a memorable character, at least for me. I love love love love LOVE monochrome character palettes, I love the mix of reds and blacks, I love it when random strappy things are on a character, I love a little pop of fur...

... wait a god damn second. Those are all the elements my ultimate blorbo of all time has!!!

(pictured: my ultimate blorbo of all time, aka my warrior of light in final fantasy xiv, ahrora, in her current outfit. note the reds, blacks, strappy things, and pop of fur. no matter what, she’s always gonna be my absolute favorite just because she’s my oc i poured so much into. don’t worry rora, you’re not getting replaced, you never could be <3) (it doesn’t help that her main class is quite literally dancer ALDFSKJAS;DFLKJASLD)

Okay, that’s a bit of a stretch, but I do adore red-coded characters, and honestly with the feathers it’s reminding me of one of my top 5 favorite characters of all time, Yamato Kazakiri from Animal Sentai Zyuohger, mostly because they’re both red and both give off Bird Vibes and not much else. But Yamato could sometimes serve this type of cunt. But now we’re getting twenty miles off from the topic so let’s get back the fuck on track.

Okay I’m sorry this is so much longer and more disjointed than the other reviews but this map makes me scream cry and throw up.

The map starts with Jack as a kid, dancing alone in his room. His mother, Night Swan, looks on, and motions in a way that says she’s disapproving of her son’s actions.

How it’s supposed to come off: Night Swan disapproves because Jack is supposed to be training to be the leader of her army, and shouldn’t have time for frivolous shit like “his own happiness”.

How it comes off to a lot of people: Night Swan disapproves because Jack is expressing his interest in a traditionally “feminine” hobby.

I’m not sure how many people related to that second interpretation, but I did see a LOT of people say that’s how they felt when they saw this cutscene for the first time. Personally, my interpretation was more like the first one; Jack wasn’t being absolutely perfect, and she thinks that if he’s not, he shouldn’t even bother. Of course, a bit of parental neglect never stopped anyone! It just traumatizes and yassifies you!

Honest to god, when I first saw this transition from his child self to his adult self, it made me gasp a bit, Even after his mother has expressed disapproval, he’s still going forward with being a performer. Sure, he is the main leader of her assimilated army, but he just wants to perform in front of people! And he loves it! And the audience loves him too!

But at the end of the day, the one person who he just wants to get some form of approval from won’t give it to him. He’s not good enough.

No, not good. She doesn’t care much for good.

He’s not perfect enough.

God, the love of performance and heartbreak over still not getting any love from his mother after all this time is portrayed so well by his dancer. Makes me feel extremely insane.

I think a question that’s fair to ask is “well if she wants Jack to follow all her orders, why not assimilate him, too?”. And I think the answer is twofold. One, she needs someone who’s able to make snap decisions outside of her own brain to lead her army successfully. If you’re left to your own devices, you may end up making a huge mistake you didn’t foresee. And secondly, no matter how much parental neglect she’s shown Jack, on some level she can’t bring herself to assimilate him because he is her son. She doesn’t care about his happiness, but she doesn’t want to lose someone who may potentially be the final tie to her life before Night Swan, since the dad seems to be M.I.A. And her disapproval of Jack being a performer might stem from her own insecurities of being a failed ballerina; she’s already gone through the pain and humiliation of trying to be a performer and failing, and she doesn’t want Jack to go through the same. Of course, there might be an element of jealousy there too. He IS a successful performer. He’s performing in front of an arena of people, for god’s sake! She’s seeing him live out a dream she couldn’t have, and wants to shut that down for him.

Many thoughts, head full, blorbo living in there.

Of course, by the end of the map, the Just Dancers make it through to where he’s staying...

But for now, that’s where our story must stop.

--

GENERAL RATING: THUMBS UP!!!!!!!!

SPECIFIC RATING: 10/10

Holy shit this is my favorite map in the whole game. I don’t give a shit. The choreography is fun and easy for a theater kid like me to grasp while still being genuinely challenging in a fair sense, the story of the map is told so well in less than five minutes, Jack Rose is just an iconic coach, everything about him just rattles my fucking brain like a cup of dice. Does he know how much I care about him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And to top it all off, he gets a song that already fucked hard and gets it recontextualized to be about an emotionally distant, neglectful mother, and how he just wants that closeness with somebody, anybody, and that he just wants to perform!

He just wants someone close to him to care about it, too!

... Is that really too much to ask?

--

THANK YOU for reading, especially if you actually DID read my absolute fucking brain rot on a page and didn’t just scroll down to the end. No shame if you did, I would do the same LMFAO. Next time, we’re looking at the penultimate song in the playlist, Majesty! There’s no obligation to follow me (especially not after the absolute thesis i just wrote), but if you wanna see my rankings of all the other JD2023 maps, please stick around! I promise they won’t be as long/disjointed/nonsensical as this one ended up being! Have a good day!

~ Mage <3

[ollieinoue]

MOLLIE PT II.

siri play best friend by saweetie & doja cat [ playlist tag ] [ mollie pt i. ] @montyrichler

B a noBody 【SOAK】 ▇ STUPID 【Matt Watson】 ▇ ILY, HOW ARE YOU? 【AS IT IS】 ▇ My Best Friend 【Weezer】 ▇ The Kids Aren't alright 【Fall Out Boy】 ▇ i never wanna die 【Bea Miller】 ▇ Raw Raw 【K.Flay】 ▇ Want It Bad 【Cowboy Malfoy】 ▇ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? 【Tyler, The Creator】 ▇ You Get Me So High 【The Neighborhood】 ▇ Cupid 【Ryan Beatty】 ▇ Dirty Shoes 【CARR】 ▇ Later 【SuperKnova】 ▇ So Alright, Cool, Whatever 【The Happy Fits】 ▇ I Never Loved Myself Like I Loved You 【Dead Poet Society】 ▇ Everything Else Can Wait 【We The Kings】 ▇ Best Friend 【Ingrid Michaelson】 ▇ photobooth 【Mothe】 ▇ Eventually 【Hotel Mira】 ▇ Crumbs 【Belaganas】 ▇ Jinx 【Lia Pappas-Kemps】 ▇ What If It Doesn't End Well 【chloe moriondo】 ▇ No Big Deal (I Love You) 【dodie】 ▇ hate to be lame 【Lizzy McAlpine, FINNEAS】 ▇ Be Your Boy 【Medium Build】 ▇ Before You 【Benson Boone】 ▇ HEY BESTIE 【Neanderthal】 ▇ A Memory Away 【Matt Maeson】 ▇ Love Me When It Hurts 【Vesperteen】 ▇ All I Need To Hear 【The 1975】

+ some lyrics (there are 30 songs so it's pretty long be warned)

B a noBody by SOAK

You ring, you ring a bell to show You're bleeding I watched, I saw your mind fall, Out of your head Weekends and cheap thrills, Risk it all for an inch of fun, We'll never amount To anything

STUPID by Matt Watson

I don't wanna hurt you But I already did And you don't even know it yet

ILY, HOW ARE YOU? by As It Is

You smile but your eyes They scream 'ignore me' White lies, blue skies But the rain is pouring Down

My Best Friend by Weezer

The Kids Aren't Alright by Fall Out Boy

And in the end I'd do it all again I think you're my best friend Don't you know that the kids aren't al-, kids aren't alright? I'll be yours When it rains it pours Stay thirsty like before Don't you know that the kids aren't al-, kids aren't alright?

i never wanna die by Bea Miller

'Cause you're so fuckin' special, oh And I don't wanna let go, oh 'Cause now I think I'm lookin' at you like it's the very first time You're just so fuckin' special So I never wanna die, no I never wanna die

Raw Raw by K.Flay

I came up from the depths of hell with a golf club in my hand You disarmed me, no defense My armor turned to sand It's hard to escape the wounds of the past Every time I feel something real I wanna take it back Sensitive I'm peeling back my skin You got me raw raw

Want It Bad by Cowboy Malfoy

I can tell what you're doin' baby My hands your hips I can take you through it baby I'm a sucker don't tempt me with affection Hold me for the night I won't second guess it Undefined romance Got me in a trance

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? by Tyler, The Creator

I can't stop you, I can't rock too I've been back there and I can not die too But I've got to know Are we still friends? Can we be friends?

You Get Me So High by The Neighborhood

If you can just let me know if it's okay To call you when I'm lonely

Cupid by Ryan Beatty

He's the only one on my mind He's the only one I call when I'm feeling reckless Tell me that you're mine Open up your heart for a minute Let me see the things you got hiding in it

Dirty Shoes by CARR

So let me take your clothes off You know I'm a showoff I would let you get some With your dirty shoes on I know I"m a nightmare But you're always right there So I'll let you get some Any time you want some

Later by SuperKnova

There's nothing that can save us So stay a little later I dunno what this makes us but we'll figure it out later

So Alright, Cool, Whatever by The Happy Fits

After you leave, I'll be so alright, it's true It's not like I've got something grand to say to you Like, "You'll be the only ever one Like the only ever ones who came before"

I Never Loved Myself Like I Loved You by Dead Poet Society

I can't say I know When I'm gonna shut down 'cause I don't Remember when I told you I could never show you, no The state of mind that I am in The hurricane I thought I lost you in It's flooding through my bloodstream Drowning out my heartbeat, oh

Everything Else Can Wait by We The Kings

Can you stay with me in this moment And forget what tomorrow is You know the only thing that matters Is right here in your hands Your thoughts are racing overtaking you But slow your mind instead You say how can that be so easy And I said when I'm with you everything else can wait

Best Friend by Ingrid Michaelson

Right away, I knew I liked you You seemed so cool, I didn't even have to try to Your stupid laugh, the way you flirt The way you look so good in my old T-shirt

photobooth by Mothe

Being honest feels like sneaking out the window I need you to know it's not that bad to fall Are you ready?

Eventually by Hotel Mira

Truth is, I’ve been lying to myself It’s stupid, but it’s a battle cry for help And what do I know Yeah, all that I know It’s you and me, eventually

Crumbs by Belaganas

Just take my hand when you're feeling numb You take my bread and I take your crumbs I don't mind Cause I never wanna be your yesterday

Jinx by Lia Papas-Kemps

And can't you see the future? You can make me breakfast I'll be extroverted and you'll be introspective When the world is quiet, I can hear you thinking God, I think I love you I don't wanna jinx it

What If It Doesn't End Well by chloe moriondo

But what if it doesn't end well Would you still stay? What if I fuck it up like I always do And my shit gets in the way? What if it doesn't end well Would we still be fine? When the world is over and we go under Would you still be mine?

No Big Deal (I Love You) by dodie

I don't mind, say I care, you're the best Yeah, you hold me like its already said I don't mind, I will do this dance For the rest of my life, for as long as you want

hate to be lame by Lizzy McAlpine & FINNEAS

It's always on the tip of my tongue But I stop myself from saying it Tell myself it's not the right time or something dumb But then you kiss me like you do And we're right back where we started from Hate to admit but it might be true Hate to admit but I think you knew Hate to be lame but I might love you

Be Your Boy by Medium Build

So much of life has got you feeling tired Would you still read me, baby, if I weren't required I care about what you say, believe, and think Are you the person I've been dreaming of between the sheets? Oh, boy Tell me how to be your boy

Before You by Benson Boone

Darling, if you don't mind I'll take your hand tonight We could just slow down time Let me adore you And from the moment I looked in those dark brown eyes I can't remember life before you

HEY BESTIE by Neanderthal

hey bestie when you met me did you think it’d go this well I’ve never been, this fucking deep intwined with someone else spend half the week at ur apartment, you spend the other half at mine keep my phone by my side when we’re apart Never gotten this far

A Memory Away by Matt Maeson

Baby, that's love Give what you can, but you can't give enough Love is a game that can never be won And babe, I'm a loser, calling your bluff

Love Me When It Hurts by Vesperteen

You love me when i Fuck it up, tear it down I don't wanna be this way forever You love me when i Blow it up, break it down You and i can piece it back together But you still love me when it hurts

All I Need to Hear by The 1975

'Cause it all means nothing, my dear If I can't be holding you near So tell me you love me 'Cause that's all that I need to hear

[maddstermind]

10 Songs!

Thank you for the tag @kaiafosterwrites!!!!

Rules: Use your WIP playlist and put it on shuffle. Write the first 10 songs that come up and quote your favorite lyrics from each song and/or the lyrics that fit your WIP best (they might be the same lyrics), then tag 10 people.

My aubie playlist is a goddamn disaster but we're doin' it regardless! And then we'll see if I even have ten people to tag...

Cassandra - Florence + the Machine Take me back Oh drunken gods of slaughter You know I've always been your favorite daughter

The Rockrose and The Thistle - The Amazing Devil All the pins inside your fretted head And your muttered whens and hows All your mother's weaves and your father's threads Let me rob them of you now

What About Love? - Heart You've been hiding Never letting it show Always trying to keep it under control You got it down, and you're well on your way to the stop But there's something that you forgot What about love?

Hammerhead - Penelope Scott All I really know is that I'm never coming home And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you so

Monster Town - Go! Child Is this another dream? Or just a nightmare? Unnerving, concerning, who's out there? The clock isn't set to last My time is fading fast I can't keep running into spirits of the past

Eat Your Young - Hozier Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

Noble Rot - The Ballroom Thieves Give me back my freedom; I'll leave you the revelry I was more than waspish, I spoke out of turn What I do with all my bridges, that ain't none of your concern

The Outsider - Marina and the Diamonds I'm good at protecting what they wanna take Spilt the milk at breakfast, hit me double hard And I grinned at you softly 'cause I'm a fuckin' wild card

Good Morning - Go! Child The year is gone but I am not It seems my rope was longer than I thought

Nothing Will Come of It Joe - The Altogether And I've got demons You've got dreams You hear love songs But I hear screams!

Alright! Huzzah, ten songs! And now to try and tag people.

Of course, this will be an open tag to anyone who sees this and wants to participate, but I'll also pester @worldsfromhoney, @thoughtofhouses, @the-grim-and-sanguine, @planets-and-prose, @halleyuhm, @username-cause-i-need-one, @saintedseraph, @365runesoftheamalgamations, @k-v-briarwood, and @erieautumnskies!

[foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland]

Heyyy ty sappho ( @iworshipsappho ) for the taggg (this is veryy late i have been BUSYYY today but thog dont caare) this is probably one of the coolest tag games :3

1. Favourite colour and why: I loveeee pink she is so cutesy and pretty and beautiful and my best friend ever in the world and also orange she is beautifullll and my wife and i love her she makes everything sooo wonderful and is rhe reason i love sunsets so much AND BROWN she is the cosiest girl on earth thee is no cosier colour than brown shes the colour of HOMEEE dude

2. Five comfort movies: ooo man idk i dont watch movies often. But i suppose Brave is one of them its always been suchhh a comfort movie <333 other than thattt idk man haha

3. Favourite season and why: SUMMERRRR SUMMER SUMMER SUMMERRRR I LOVEEEE SUMMER he is my husband and i love him. Summer <333 eveyrhting is so golden and bright and beautiful and amaz g and warm and comfortable and happy and AAA i love summer so much <33333

4. Favourite book(s): ahahahahah fuck i dont read much like. At all. I like the sudoku book i have i suppose ???? And my sketchbook :3

5. Favourite aesthetic and why: imagine. Life is strange. As an aesthetic. All of life is strange. Everything that is life is strange is my aesthetic. I love life is strange. So much

6. Favourite genre and why: oo depends on what. Genre of music ?? Fuckinn. Lemme ask spotify haha one moment. Well my top mixes are Happy Chill Indie Rock Acoustic and Punk so like errrr. Idk man. I like songs that sound good. Like. Video game soundtracks. And. Will wood. Favourite genre of story ??? I likeeee. Actually quite a lot of stuff tbh sooo yea ill just stick 2 music

7. Favourite clothes style: timothy rand from blood in the bayou. I wanna look as horrendous as he does. He is so incredibly awesome. Alsoooo like. Dude idk what to describe it as. My favourite pieces of clothing i own areeee my black tshirt w awesome art of some random californian forest i think, my many tank tops, my denim jacket n my new b&w flannel anddd my black jeans and my denim skirt and my greenblue boots and my VANS :3 anddd my many necklaces and a ton of eyeliner and mascara and eternally black nails anddddd yea :33 but mainly timothy rand ^__^

8. Favourite music genre: well shit i already answered this. Here ill just put my fav story genre. Which is errr. Well. Idk man. I like love stories but mainly the kind that r disguised as love storiez (AND NOT IN A ROMANTIC WAY) as much as i go crazy insane over romances i do fucking love the sorta Power Of Friendship Stories. Like i love riptide and i love doctor who and i love life is strange and i love omori and i love little nightmares bc theyre all like, everything sucks so much. And there are awful people and awful things in tne world. But atleast theres fucking friends and atleast we can love those friends and atleast theres beauty in the world. Love when a storys like. Uh oh the horrors (but also theres friends)

9. Favourite artists: WILL WOODDDD will wood is so fuckin good man his music is like the only music i cant get sick of even after listening to it for like. A week straight. Other than him i cant think of any individual artist i rlly like. Errr lemme check spotify again. C418 is like one of the only other examples i have a lot of the songs of in my Playlist. And cavetown but that was 2020. And crywank oo ig even tho i dont listen much anymore. And good kid but i listened 2 much in july and im sick of them now. And jhariah but thats just 1 album my friend recced. Ok and lemon demon but hes like a free pass. Ok and lovejoy as well but theyre also a free pass. And slaughter beach, dog but that was like a one week obsession n then i overlistened. Ok and toby fox and id say hes a free pass but hes Built Different ok hes more than a free pass. And two door cinema club but that was also just 1 album. Ok and wilbur hes also a free pass shut up. Anyways will woods music is good

9.5 I FORGOR SONGS IM ADDING THIS IN NOW: FAVORITE SONGS: ERR FUCKING SKELETON APPRECIATION DAY IN NY BY WILL WOOD ITS A BANGER. MY SPOTIFY ISNT LOADING SO I CANTNTHNK OF ANY OTHER BUT I LOVE SKELETON APPREICATION DAY. AND ALSO. CAUSE FOR CONCERN MY BBG. AND. FINE BY LEMON DEMON. AND. SOME OTHERS. THAT SPTOIFY WONT OPEN FOR. oh and also like the entire omori soundtrack and the entire LOFEMIS STRNAGE SOUNDTRACJ I LOVEEEEE ALL THE LIS SONGS SOOOOO MUCH and the entire unoackinf sojndtrack ok bye the end

10. Favourite fandoms: dude ok like. The mcyt fandom sucks in a way that i also love so much it has such a special place in my heart n despite me being muchhhh more on the outside of the fandom now and only still being here by proximity rlly its definitely like. A good one

11. Hobbies: PHOTOGRAPHY !!!!! and visual art BUT MAINLY PHOTOGRAPHY !!!!! And playing silly video games :3 but photography ^__^

12. Care language u give: i try with words but mostly just spending time together. If someones having a bad time i will spend time with them so they have a good time. But most the time thats not possible soooo i try 2 show i care with like. WAIT. i misread this as. Like. Sympathy. Like what u do when someones havin a bad day. Care language isss. Still spending time together, i will invite the ppl i care abt to hang out :3 anddd infodumping i only infodump to ppl i rlly care abt bc i trust them and want them to know abt the things that make me happy !!!! Bc then they can maybe like it too !!! :3 anddd in person Existing in each others proximity :333

13. Care language u like to recieve: physical touch <3 AND QUALITY TIME SOOO MUCH invite me to things ill love u forever. And like. Ppl thinking of me even if im not around. Love that shit so much

14. Are u more of extrovert/introvert/ambivert: EXTROVERTTTT i loveeeee people so much i love my friends and need them so much and i love meeting new ppl BUT I COME OFF AS AN INTROVERT just bc im scared of rejection and im used 2 ppl hating me for my autistic swag BUT i still love ppl so much <333

15. Morning/night person: a morning person forced 2 be a night person. But i loveeee the morning sooooo much even tho i am better at staying up late i HATEEEE the night and i LOVEEEE the morning

16. City/country/suburbs and why: hmmm i think i like the suburbs bc like dude its just fuckin Home like i hate the city bc its overwhelming and too big and too expensive and too polluted and too PUBLIC. And i do like the country but it feels unfamiliar to me bc i dont go there too often. And ofc theres a lack of easy paths to walk on when it comes 2 roads n shit. So i like the suburbs :3 its just fuckin home as mcuh as they suck

17. Favourire time of day + why: I LOVEEEE 8am so much. And 11am. Comfy times. BUT ONLY WHEN THEY BELONG TO ME if im spending my 8am or 11am doing smth i dont wanna do for someone i dont respect I HATE IT, but when 8am or 11am is MINE to do with as i PLEASE. Best times in the day. And 8pm bc a lotta things happen at 8pm

18. Do u have any religious beliefs: nah not rlly just bc my parents r awful n raised me 2 believe religion is "Evil" and just fuckin. Bad shit. But like even tho i ofc fuckin disagree w them to hell n back, still an atheist and will mostttt likelyyy stay that way i think ?

19. What does your ideal family look like to you: dude fucking Not Blood Family. My family is the ppl i love n the ppl i feel comfortable around and my family is my friends and my Blood Family will be dead to me the moment i move out. My ideal family is a group of ppl who love and care for each other and do not need to fuckin Seal It With Marriage Or Blood or whatever the fuck. Just ppl who look after each other and ppl who love each other whoever the fuck that is

20. Dream future: being happy and never talking to my parents and loving life still

21. Dream place to visit: wherever my friends live :3 never liked travel before so idk where id want to go bc ive always hated travelling so much bc ive never travelled w/o my family so. Yeah. Bad

22. Favourite type of nature: I LOVE RIVERS AND LAKEZ !!!!!! so much. And wetlands. And big meadows.

23. Favourite habitat: ooo ive liked savannahs a lot :33 but mainlyyy forests bc like the Technical Biome of where i live is a forest so its just like. Home yaknow

24. Describe myself in 4 words: IN, LOVE, WITH, LIFE !!!!!!!! :3 (or alternatively: fuck, it, we, ball)

25. If i could be another thing on earth whatd i be: A CAT A KITTY CAT MROW MEOW MEOW MEOW EMOW MEOW MEOWWWW ID BE A KITTY KITTY KITTY CAT A KITTY CAT KITTY CAT !!!!!!! :3c

26. Favourite type of weather: SUMMER THUNDERSTORMS and also veryyyy sunny days with like. 10% cloud cover. Perhaps 20%. But mostly blue sky :3

27. If u could travel anywhere right now where would it be: ANYWHERE ELSE ANYWHERE ELSE I HATE IT HERE !!!!!! but also. The house of one of my friends. So that i can sleep over and then hwng out. Bc im eepy. But also i need my friends.

28. Do u have any fears, serious or otherwise: i am scared offfff my parents and of school and of rejection and of social isolation and of outer space andddd. Of bad things happening to my cat.

29. Dream job: capitalism hater, royalty assassinator.

30. Would you be a pirate/vampire/cowboy/astronaut/werewolf/wizard/witch/knight/cryptid and why: A PIRATEEEE A PIRATEEE ID BE A FUCKINN PIRATEEE I LOVE PIRATES id also be a witch i wanna mix herbs n shit snd make silly magic with potions. And as cool as wizards are, i dont wanna be a technician. Wanna be an alchemist. Witch. Witch pirate. But mainly pirate i LOVEEE PIRATESSS SOOOO MUCH

[shvdowsdrowned]

Put your playlist on shuffle and post the results!

Tagged by @moss-feratu !!

Blasphemian - Infant Annihilator

Death Of Peace Of Mind - Bad Omens

Heavy Lies The Crown - King 810

Wurst Vacation - Ice Nine Kills

Cheyne Stokes - Chelsea Grin

Death Portrait - Lorna Shore

Y'all Want a Single - Korn

Slaughterhouse - Motionless In White

Welcome To Horrorwood - Ice Nine Kills

The American Nightmare - Ice Nine Kills

This is the first time this shuffle game gave me some fuckin bangers on the first try, I never got this lucky 😭😭

I hate tagging people so if you see this and you wanna do it PLEASE DO AND TAG ME!!! I love seeing what other people listen to!!! <3

[axemetaphor]

Everybody Loves a Mystery reached 50 hits on ao3 yesterday! I’m fuckin’ thrilled ‘cause I loved it a lot but was worried it’d be too niche for anybody else to give a shit. To celebrate, here’s the fic playlist. [YT] / [S] 

Since I tried to approach this fic like a movie, I decided the theme playlist for it works best as a soundtrack.

Here’s a breakdown of why I picked each song, under the cut.

Overall Theme: Werewolves of London Werewolves of London is everything I wanted this AU to be— fun, jaunty, surprisingly dark. It's cheesy and goofy and also talks about a little old lady getting mutilated by a werewolf with great hair. It just works! It's the perfect cheesy 80s werewolf movie song. I’d want a sample of this over the opening credits, if it were a movie.

First-Arc Theme: Renegade Renegade to me perfectly captures the opening tone: Amy’s journal entries about the dead dogs are a little dark, but once she actually reaches Undisclosed, she’s really kinda viewing it like a vacation. The lyrics themselves remind me of how John might feel—They haven’t actually had someone come in to monster-hunt before, but it’s not like he’s gonna take it seriously. The word is out, the jig is up, they’ve finally found me / The renegade who had it made, retrieved for a bounty is pretty dark, but sung in such a bright cheery tone. Putting it through the lens of perception that is John here, I’d call it mocking, even.

John's Parties: Dead Man's Party, Love Shack, Ballroom Blitz, When the Lights Go Out, Welcome To My Nightmare 

Dead Man's Party Dead Man's Party is the most cheery ominous bop I've ever fucking heard. If Amy weren't so single minded maybe she would've noticed how truly strange John's house parties were. She got a bit of a clue towards the end, with how pushy everyone was, but she never really got a grasp of how … lifeless other people around her really could be. When John didn't want them to act up, that is. 

Love Shack Alright, I'll confess, I'm guilty: this is just a for-fun add. I consider this one to be just the kind of song I'd want playing in the background during a party scene. It’s also a song that, I guess, if you held me at gunpoint, I’d remove from the soundtrack. But I wouldn’t be happy about it.

Ballroom Blitz Okay, I'm guilty again. I just fucking love this song. John's parties aren't violent scenes at all so it doesn't really fit, but it has that energy of being a fun party on the surface, while being very threatening underneath. It's another one I'd just want playing in the background of a party scene. 

When the Lights Go Out I can and will force you to listen to two Oingo Boingo songs on this "soundtrack." You have no choice. Fuck you.  When the Lights Go Out is the most ominous song in this section and that's on purpose. This is how John's parties really are— Kinda fucked up, ethereal, liminal not like the inside of a grocery store but like an acid trip. You don't know how long you've been in this, you don't know when it started, and you can't imagine it ending, let alone anytime soon. Despite that though the speaker, who I consider kind of a John-analogue in this case, seems to utterly love the place. 

Welcome To My Nightmare Welcome to my Nightmare is… equal parts suave and playful. Kind of. To me it feels like a clunky kind of suave but yaknow, maybe I don't know what suave means. Either way the lyrics feel like a pretty direct parallel; Amy’s stepping into John’s world here, and it’s a place that’s pretty fucked up but pretty fun. 

John Songs: Master of Puppets, Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Dude Looks Like A Lady

Master of Puppets Alright, let's get this out of the way first. No, I did not pick this song because of Stranger Things. Yes, Stranger Things reminded me of how much this song fucks. My dad was always more of an Iron Maiden kind of guy, but I grew up listening to a little Metallica too. This song fits John's whole shit— they are the puppet master of Undisclosed. They're running the whole show. This is the kind of thing I’d want as a credits song, as well as maybe a background song in an earlier scene, for foreshadowing purposes. 

Everybody Wants To Rule The World Beyond the fact it's an absolute bop, this is another obvious, on-the-nose pick for John. They do want to rule the world! Preferably with David as their right-hand man. Or lapdog. Whichever he'd prefer. Right now, though, they'll settle for ruling Undisclosed with Dave. 

Dude Looks Like A Lady This is another obvious pick for John here, to me anyway. If this shit were a real movie I'd picture it playing when Amy meets John at the post office. It's just the nonbinary energies John has. Also I think if you read into the lyrics it's about a trans woman who, I don't know, commits some crimes? It sounds to me like she rubs some place at gunpoint and the lead singer thinks she's so hot doing it he wants her to rail him. More power to him, honestly. 

Dave Songs: Hungry Like The Wolf, Werewolf

Hungry Like the Wolf This song honestly is more sexual than I always thought it was as a kid, which is kind of hilarious, but it's also, in a sort of a way, how Amy at first views Dave. He's dangerous and scary and kind of attractive but she's for sure frightened of him. He's absolutely not that scary in reality, but many things get filtered through her perception.

Werewolf If you've seen the poster for this fic then you know this is the song that started it all— It was part of what kicked off the ideation ghost-wannabe had before handing this project to my dumbass. It's not 80's whatsofuckingever, it’s brand-new at the time of posting this, but it does contain references to 80's songs, and it seems to have been written with the same kind of intentions as this AU. My reading of it is a man in love with his werewolf half, which … Dave isn't that self-loving but… well, I'll talk more about his relationship with his werewolf self in later works.

Amy Songs: Under Pressure, Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps), Bad Moon Rising

Under Pressure I have to be honest, this one is the least “thought-through” choice on here. Not like I’ve just slapped it on here, but because I can’t articulate the ways my brain is insisting it fits. It just does. Maybe something about how this AU’s Amy sounds similar to the friends being sung about in the song, maybe just because it’s a really good song, maybe it’s just that this Amy loves Queen. It’s in the second half of the soundtrack because it feels more “thematic” than “accurate to events in the work,” so it could be something like a credits song. “Axel, how long would these credits be?” Well, I can’t decide if this would be animated (so that I have an excuse to try and draw an entire fucking movie myself,) or live-action, so maybe they’d be some damned long credits. 

Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) This one feels almost like a John-and-Amy kind of song, in the sense that John would see her as similar to the woman spoken about in this song— naïvely opening doors she can't close, exposing herself to things that drive her mad. There’s a little pity in them for her, because of that. Also I wanted to put some Bowie on this soundtrack, is that a crime? This is another song I’d think of being played in the background of one of John’s parties

Bad Moon Rising Bad Moon Rising is another one that nearly perfectly captures this AU's whole shit. It's got an upbeat tune and it's a song all about disaster and how shit's about to fall to pieces. There's something great about applying it to this Amy's almost clueless self-confidence— things continue to escalate, but she's still so sure she can fix it, handle it no problem. And to her credit she is very capable! Nobody could possibly have been prepared to handle what was really happening in Undisclosed. Maybe if things had just been a little different…