#so let me go listen to some rebel songs to calm down

[hopefulfuturenovelauthor]

Charlie Boy

Stanley Barber x reader gn

song- Charlie Boy by the Lumineers

about 1.2 k words

warnings: language, mentions of Stanley’s father, Stanley’s bruised eye, I can’t think of anything else but if I need to add something let me know.

“Don’t go to war, firstborn in ‘44,” you walked around the room, collecting a mound of blankets from the couch. 

“And Kennedy made him believe, we could do much more,” the soft fabrics clung to your arms, still a little wet from the pouring rain. Running around the block to get here without an umbrella had not been your brightest idea. But that didn’t stop you anyway.

“Lillian, don’t hang your head, love should make you feel good,” you let the blankets fall from your arms at the foot of the bed. You grabbed the fluffiest from the pile and carefully laid it over the boy lying on his side. 

“In uniform, you raised a man, who volunteered to stand,” you gently patted his head of curls, taking your other arm’s sleeve to wipe away stray tears.

“Ohohoh, ohoh, ohoh, 0hohoh, ohoh, ohoh,” he laid there still unmoving as sadness pooled in his eyes and fell down his cheeks. You stepped away only slightly to hear him whine as you left to turn off the lamp a little ways away from his bed.

“Play the bugle, play the taps, Make your mothers proud,” you returned back to his side as you softly brushed at his tears, painfully avoiding his bruised cheek and eye. Stanley’s hands grabbed yours as he tried to pull you down beside him.

“Sweetheart, I’m soaked. I’m just going to get you wet,” you said.

“I don’t care,” Stan said raggedly, “just hold me while you sing.”

“Okay,” you whispered before crawling into bed beside him, placing a second blanket over the both of you, the one he already had separating you so he would stay dry.

“Raise your riffles to the sky, boys, fire that volley loud,” you stroked his head as faced away from you.

“News was bad on Upland Ave, Metuchen mourn our loss,” you sang out to the quiet of the room. Stanley’s sniffling had become fainter.

“Sons, rebelled, while fathers yelled, and mothers clutched the cross,” your arms slowly wrapped around the poor boy beside you, comforting him the best you could.

“Ohohoh, ohoh, ohoh, ohohoh, ohoh,ohoh,” you hummed out as Stan bundled into the blankets you gave him, swadling himself in the warmth that them and you provided.

“Play the bugle, play the taps, make your fathers proud,” you voice was starting to fade away and Stanley’s breathing evened out. 

“Raise your riffles to the sky, boy, fire that volley loud,” you finished the song, leaving a silence that was neither comfortable or uncomfortable. Regardless of the suffocating feeling, you felt left trapped in the house that was both a blessing and a curse. You rested your head against his. The strands of curls brushed your face as you tried to relax.

“I like when you sing,” he whispered.

“I like when you sing too,” you responded neutrally, uncertain of how far this conversation would go.

“It’s better when you sing,” Stanley said, “you only sing when I need you or when you think no one is listening. It makes you sound like an angel.”

“How come?” you asked.

“Because you always come when I need you and the way you can calm me down so easily makes it all seem… etherial.”

“That’s some high praise,” you responded against his curls.

“It’s true,” he replied back. You sat in silence for a few moments before Stanley broke it again. “How do I sound to you when I sing?” curiosity filled his voice.

“Like a rat choking on pesticide,” you said monotonously, as your emotions ran wild in the madness of your head.

“I’m being serious,” Stan said through a giggle, still not choosing to turn and face you.

“You sound normal,” Stan shifted against you antsily, expectantly, as if he wanted to hear something as meaningful as he had said to you. “You sound like yourself.  You can hear your personality each time you belt out a chorus, or forget a word, or your voice breaks. All I hear is you, and it’s wonderful. Because your my favorite thing to listen to, even if at times you do sound like a rat choking on pesticides.”

Stanley stayed quiet. Time passed and in your head you could hear the ticking of the clock in your brain, the countdown until one of you broke the silence or fell asleep.

“If I wasn’t so emotionally tapped, I’d confess my undying love for you.”

“If you weren’t so emotionally tapped, I would have already spun you around to face me,” you answered back.

Stanley wiggled out of your grasp as he shifted about. After a few attempts he finally flipped over with what would have been minimum effort if he had succeeded the first time. Glossy eyes stared at yours, one surrounded by the purple bruise. His smile was contagious most days, but not this one, not while he was hurt.

“I know you turned, but you are still absolutely drained after today,” you said, scooting back to get a better look at him.

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you too. You're comfy and cozy and everything, but sometimes seeing is believing even when you ground me.”

“I will take comfy and cozy as a compliment,” you stated.

“You should. You smell nice. It makes it very easy to get all warm and toasty when the person smothering you smells like a freshly baked Christmas cookie.”

“That was…,” the words weren’t coming to your mouth right away. “Random. Very fucking random, but okay. You smell like weed and hormones so, you know at least I don’t smell like that.”

“God, I wish I smelled like you. However, it gets very difficult to be around you when I’m high. I get the munchies and sadly I can’t chew on you like I could a cookie.”

“Okay,” you said trying to reel the conversation back in, “I think that is enough talk tonight. You need rest, Stan. I need rest. We both need some time to just fucking be without the whole god damn world breathing down our necks. So just try and get some shut eye for me, will ya?”

Stanley’s thin lipped and tired smile was thrown your way as he moved forward to rest his head just below your neck. His untamed curls brushed against your chin as he snuggled into you, arms wrapping around your side as he relaxed. 

Without much thought, you placed a soft kiss on top of his head and returned the embrace. Your arms drifted from under his to wrap up and around his back. Your fingers made small circles on his shoulders as he hummed with his eyes closed.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said.

“I love you too, Stan.”

“So fucking much?”

“So fucking much, and much much more.”

You both fell asleep shortly after. The warm smell of cookies filling Stan’s senses as the refreshing smell of his citrus shampoo wafted from his hair and into your heart. A blossoming comfort engulfed you both in the sweet smells of an inviting winter and a revivifying spring.

#Stanley Barber #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber x reader #ianowt #i am not okay with this #still upset #I need more #why!!!!!! #help 😢 #wyatt oleff #i need this show back

[heniareth]

Hihihi can you please do 10 and 12 from the romanticism asks for Astala and Ilanlas? :D have a good one!

Hihihihihi to you!!! I apologize for the wait, 'tis the season. But!! Let's talk about moody poetry and theme songs for Astala and Ilanlas!! (I hope you're doing well and I hope you're having fun and resting these days. And, if not, that you'll get to do so very soon). Let's go!! (Under the cut, because it's a bit long; I couldn't choose just a few verses from that one poem)

10. What piece of moody poetry or novel quote best encompasses your character?

Astala

For Astala, we have this poem here:

Don't tell me that you understand,

Don't tell me that you know.

Don't tell me that I will survive,

How I will surely grow.

Don't tell me this is just a test,

That I am truly blessed,

That I am chosen for this task

Apart from all the rest.

Don't come at me with answers

That can only come from me,

Don't tell me how my grief will pass...

That I shall soon be free.

Don't stand in pious judgement

Of the bonds I must untie.

Don't tell me how to suffer,

And don't tell me how to cry.

My life is filled with selfishness,

My pain is all I see,

But I need you, and I need your love...

Unconditionally.

Accept me in my ups and downs,

I need someone to share,

Just hold my hand and let me cry,

And say, "My friend, I care."

It's listed as a poem by J. Hendel on TheSilverPen.com. Basically, I relate it to the part of Astala that rebels against her lot in life, is angry that she didn't get to marry and stay home and instead has to go out and save the world by herself. This feeling, I think, is prominent in the first days traveling with Duncan. Later it gets sort of shoved aside by the urgency of saving Ferelden from the Blight, until the Deep Roads. There she gets to see exactly what awaits her and every other Grey Warden at the end of their life, and the feeling resurfaces, tinged and nurtured by a deep-seated horror about what she's seen in the Deep Roads.

Ilanlas

For Ilanlas, I have found this quote:

"Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light."

It's attributed to Oscar Wilde, and it just... It fits. The fire imagery. The idea of flight. I relate them very much to Ilanlas, who, at his best, is someone who would love a good dive down the cliff and unfurling his wings at the last possible moment to not smash into the ground below. For Ilanlas, risk and the thrill of doing something dangerous is part of life. He is a liiiiiiiiittle bit of an adrenaline junkie and doesn't like to be made to sit still while everybody discusses their new course of action. He prefers to just do it. And, for a chance to be the person closest to the sun, he'd take the fall.

12. What is their character theme song and why? If it has lyrics, which line best fits them?

For Astala, I'm giving you this song:

It's an instrumental piece, and it just reminds me very much of her time as a dockhand in the Denerim harbor. It's nice and calm, like it's a very slow morning at work and she's found a moment to just sit in the sun, close her eyes and listen to what's going on around her. There probably was some sort of merrymaking in the Alienage the night before and she's tired from that, but happy. It's warm, she's had some food and life isn't so bad.

For Ilanlas I have Hymn for the Missing by Red. It's a terribly sad song. He's got others, of course, some angry, some just about everyday life, but this one really hammers home just how much Tamlen meant to him and how heavy that loss weighs on him. He's determined to search for him and find out what's happened, but he's not going to like the answer. That art of his story is a tragedy from the get-go, and the song just puts me right in that mood. Ilanlas really feels incomplete without Tamlen. It's not like they were always together, but Tamlen was someone constant in his life the way very few people have been; always had his back, always came back around whenever they fought, always managed to cheer him up. Things were easier with Tamlen around; now he's just... gone.

And on this sad note I'll leave you. I'm looking forward to getting to the part where Ilanlas finds Tamlen again. It's gonna be an angst fest >:)

Thank you so much for the ask!!! This was very fun to write XD XD XD XD I hope you have a very lovely day, stay warm and have fun ^^

#astala tabris #ilanlas mahariel #ask game #for fun

[moonflowerdamie]

First off, HI! Hello! How are ya? Ronance truther here <3 you asked so i have some questions for you: 1. Otp 2. Controversial notp 3. Fic rec (ship of choice) 4. Hc's (ship or otherwise) 5. Have you read and/ or listened to rebel Robin? 6. Fave character(s) 7. Hot takes?

I'm new here so I apologize if I'm asking something you've answered before (if at all lol) and do not be afraid to gush! I'd love to read it.

hello!!!! i’m ok, i’ve got my exams on at the moment so i’m a little stressed about that, but otherwise pretty good, how are you? good to hear from a fellow ronance truther😌

OTP: gosh there are loads haha. if i had to narrow it down, my all time favs are dani and jamie from the haunting of bly manor, kai and amelia from grey’s anatomy, leah and fatin from the wilds and god i’m such a sucker for ronance atm so probably them too <3

Controversial NOTP: hmm that’s a tough one. there are ships that i don’t particularly like but not really ones that i hate if that makes sense? i suppose my least fav canon ships are jim and lee from gotham (the man is a walking red flag and the whole ship in general is underwhelming), bruce and natasha from the mcu (seriously marvel, why????) and meredith and nick from grey’s anatomy.

Fic Rec: oooh there are loads of good ones. here are some of my personal favs

-and she taught me a lesson alright by obsetress (damie)

-domesticated dogs by coldmackerel (villaneve)

-forever and more by blkmgck (bishova)

-roommate problems by ultraviolentluv (ronance)

-five times max brews an americano by gaps42 (elmax)

these are all amazing, everyone should go check these out!!!

HC’s: again, i have lots so i might make a bigger post about this for the different ships and characters, but here are some of my favs:

-dani knows all the words to ‘whatta man’ (even the rap part) and the first time jamie discovered this was on a road trip to california when the song came on the radio. dani sang along the whole time and jamie was so beyond shook. when the song finished, she had to pull over just so she could kiss dani senseless.

-after the island, leah wakes up with nightmares almost every night. she dreams about being back there, in that hellish place, with no rescue coming for them. she wakes up screaming, and after a few weeks her parents stop coming in at night to check on her. to calm down, she reads (not jeff’s book, no way). she particularly like to read kids books, because the fantasy and the joy of it all takes her away from her world for a moment. if that doesn’t work to calm her down, she calls one of the girls. sometimes shelby, because that girl’s voice is magical at preventing panic, sometimes rachel (and who knew they’d become such good friends?), but most of the time, she calls fatin. and fatin always picks up. always. leah doesn’t even need to say anything, fatin just let’s her breathe on the line until the sobs start, and then fatin will mumble a gentle ‘i’m on my way’. fatin sneaks in through leah’s window and joins leah in bed. they’ll spoon most nights this happens and they never ever talk about it in the morning.

-robin, after getting closer with the whole party, starts to figure out there’s something going on between mike and will. she doesn’t say anything, just sits back and watches as will pines and mike tries to be subtle about his enormous crush on his best friend. she secretly theorises about who will ask who out, and when will finally tells mike about his feelings, she pats herself on the back and seriously considers a career in matchmaking (after all, there’s still el and max to think about. those two are about as subtle as nancy wheeler is, who pretends she cannot stand robin, but has perpetually red cheeks in her presence and gets caught staring every other day).

Rebel Robin: ah no! i haven’t listened to the podcast yet, but i really want to! i’ve just been swamped with revision atm and tbh i keep forgetting it exists haha.

Fav Characters: again, so many to choose from haha. at the moment (because it changes like every week lol) it’s wanda maximoff (wanda maxiMOMMY😩), robin buckley, leah rilke, nell crain (baby🥺) and nancy wheeler.

Hot Takes: i’m not sure i have any? i’ll give it my best though, idk how controversial these are:

-mileven was cute for the first two seasons but it’s toxic now and they’d be better as friends.

-the whole pineapple on pizza debate is silly. nobody cares that much, people just like having something to argue about i think haha.

-straight girls kissing their friends at parties is fine, kiss whoever you want, but posting it on social media with captions like ‘lover’ or ‘wife’ is fetishising wlw and is just straight up lesbophobic. please don’t do it straight girls.

there ya go!!! thank you so much for this wonderful ask, friend!!!! have a great day <33

#moonflowerdamie’s asks #my asks #ronance #stranger things #elmax #bishova #leatin #the wilds #villaneve #damie #robin buckley #wanda maximoff

[notquitetwilight]

me: this is why it’d be historically and culturally inaccurate for an irish person of a certain period to be friends with an english person of a certain period

brits/anglophiles: sO yOu WoULdN’t bE fRiEnDs WiTh a BriTiSh pErSoN bAsEd On yOuR oWn GeNeRaLiSaTiOnS???

also what actions and character should siobhán judge carlisle by if she’s not allowed take her own cultural experiences into account??? moving to an area while knowing his family’s presence would change the genes of the local tribe??? allowing his family to treat the pack like shit??? changing a dying woman bc he recognised her from when she was a pretty 16-year-old??? changing another dying woman bc he thought she’d make a good bride for his son??? letting a confederate into his family??? drugging (and ditching) a woman in order to steal her car??? stealing jacob’s dna out of his own curiousity??? those actions??????? that character???????????? 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

#never not at it #aaaaaaand THIS is why plenty of us aren’t shocked by the royal revelations this week #bc we’ve grown up knowing quite a lot of them are physically incapable of recognising/acknowledging the bad of empire #and would instead rather dismiss criticism of empire through personal experience or historical accuracy as ‘generalisations’ #this prob sounds stupid bc they’re all fictional but I’m mad bc #british people regularly excuse their racism xenophobia and imperial attitudes on lack of education about the empire and colonialism #and yet EVERY time someone from a commonwealth country or former colony point out something about british imperialism we’re met w this shit #this like IT’S IN THE PAST or GET OVER IT shit #which I’m also fully aware white people regularly do to non-white people 24/7 and as a white person I’m by no means trying to compare #or excuse white irish people from that bc we have our fair share of racists here too #I’m just trying to show how white brits will blame the school curriculum for their ignorance when the simple truth is plenty of them #don’t care/don’t wanna know and tell people who speak about any brit colonial activity that they’re generalising or bitter!!! #I really starting shaking when I saw each of these @ different times lol ANYWAY #michael collins didn’t die 4 me to allow myself 2 b gaslit by br*ts a week to paddy’s day #so let me go listen to some rebel songs to calm down #twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight revival #siobhán #carlisle cullen #irish coven #the cullens #the twilight saga #the twilight series #british imperialism #british colonialism #ireland #irish #*sorry for typos in tags I’m tired and angry lol

[appleb0mb]

Twisted Wonderland x Date A Live (Outfit) - Epel Felmier

Collection of TWSTxDAL Tracks here!

Clematis - This flower represents wisdom, mental prowess, and moral beauty. Also known as the Queen of Vines. Vines are known as a form of support, and associated with renewal, growth, and development. They say that a vine’s thorns are symbolic of defending and protecting ourselves if necessary.

Previous: “My arrows have pierced the strongest of hearts, and my joy is unwavering - for beauty is at thy side. Let us celebrate till morn, and fill our cups with merriment. For the time has come, to dance till our final breath.”  [ Begonia ] here.

“I don’t want to be here anymore. Nobody, not even Vil...isn’t listening to me.”

“Fine then. Ignore me, then. Just wait until I show you how fearsome I can be.”

(NOTE: This is absolutely free! But NOT free to steal credit from! PLEASE CREDIT MY ART AND MUSIC, AND ASK FOR PERMISSION FROM ME!!!)

(Also comments, criticism, reblogs and likes  are appreciated! I enjoy seeing them because they brighten my day  ( ◜◒◝ )♡)

If you’re into some Pomefiore plot, please - continue below~.

A word from appleb0mb:

HOLY CRAP I SOMEHOW MANAGED TO DO THIS. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Honestly, it was thanks to me doing the colouring and the lineart before that I managed to do this. Even then my back still hurts LOL.

As for the music, I can’t remember how I even do this. Seriously. It’s been months since I’ve finished this song (and I mean 2+ months). So, they’ll be no concept track lollllllllllllllll

Imagery and Ideas from Listening to Clematis:

First of all, I can imagine this music playing when you first meet Epel. It’s very magical and ethereal, yes, but it feels like Epel is on a strict pattern here. 

This is the first track to not have much percussion, and it shows. No action, nothing upbeat or as heart-racing...just still. It’s almost perfectly orchestrated. And as one of my buddies call it - it’s too tame for Epel. 

And when the climax is reached at 1:15, it’s as if he’s trying to rebel against the track. Trying to navigate his way out of the song, out of this ‘fantasy world’. 

I mean, it does sound fantasy, or into the woods kind of thing. 

TWSTxDAL Plot - Continuation!

Note: This is a snippet of Epel’s introduction to MC. This may not be revealed in the finalized plot. Take it as a teaser, if you will.

Teardrops danced and painted the stormy, raven sky. A blast of thunder echoed along the water fountain, pattering gently on your orange umbrella.

It had been too long since you left your house, your skin getting pale in colour and your lips starting to crack. For days, you felt a sense of dread and emptiness clouding your mind, your soul growing tired and lethargic.

But thanks to this new Spirit called Rook, you could finally feel a sense of hope. You were frustrated, so tired of sitting in a bed; as the doctors constantly searched for answers to your sickness. You didn’t want to be bedridden, but you wanted to be alive. To be full of life again.

Unlike the last time, you decided to go alone. No Spirits accompanying you, nobody to help you. It was rash - sure - but you were tired of the guilt, the emotional pain. You felt the feeling consume you, the stress eating you up inside like a poison. This seething, writhing pain was enough to burn your heart for days.

You coughed in your already wet tissue, as you held your purple umbrella. 

It was 12:00 AM. Just like Rook said, you were here, on the dot. No friends, no Spirits. 

Just you.

You hummed to yourself, eager to pass the time. Taking deep breaths, you shook your umbrella, praying for a miracle.

Suddenly, a Spirit glowed brightly in the sky; the rain relishing in his slim, petite figure. Its ethereal, mauve locks glowed; embellishing its cute, adorable face. The Spirit’s eyes were closed, as if trying to calm themselves down. They posed rigidly, trying to look elegant and poised as possible. Their pose was similar to Vil’s, trying to imitate Vil’s perfect figure. 

But was too imperfect, and their body too shaky. It was as if they were ready to break, ready to collapse. 

Just like you.

“...About...t-time..”

They walked over to you, their eyes darting across the entire park. It seemed as though they wanted to be as secretive as possible.

Or, they were a bit shy to have eye contact. You couldn’t tell.

After a few moments of silence, they waved. sending you a short closed-eye smile.

“Hello...” They muttered shyly, their shoulders relaxing slightly. “I believe you are Y/N...?”

“...T-T-That’s the name.” You uttered back, a hint of anger in your voice. 

You really couldn’t be bothered with the introductions right now.

- End of Post -

Thank you for supporting the fan-made music and art of Twisted Wonderland x Date A Live.

And have a wonderful day!!!

Note: If you have any questions about this post, please request it in my inbox or under this post.

#TWSTxDAL announcement #TWSTxDAL #twst #twisted wonderland #date a live #pomefiore #twst epel #epel felmier #twst vil #vil schoenheit #twst rook #rook hunt #WHOO #took me a whole Sunday to finish this #And I had some of the stuff coloured and the lineart was already finished so... #It made my life much easier #But still #made me hurt my back #But I love hurting my back for you guys #Because I love y'all!!! #I'm glad I'm kind of back...but not for long. #You see...I have exams in May/June #I can't really afford to get bad grades right now. #But I'll be back in June! #And I still have some more content to finish... #...which was meant to be uploaded last year LOL #I hope this isn't too late. #ALSO OMG I CAN'T GET OVER HOW EPEL LOOKS IN THAT LIKE OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG #I THOUGHT THE BACKGROUND WOULD LOOK BAD. BUT. NO?!?!? #Ok sorry for fangirling lol

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 9 “Trapped In The Closet” [Episode List] Following the most blatant sit-com tropes you can think of, Dave decides to spy on his girlfriend, Dana, because he thinks she’s hiding something. Tim reluctantly decides to join his friend, but the two end up stuck in the girl’s closet, which will eventually turn into a gas chamber.

Trapped In The Closet

“Yeah Dana. Sure. No problem.”

Tim was working on some college tasks, but couldn’t help but to eavesdrop Dave’s conversation with his girlfriend, Dana, on the phone. He could only hear his friend’s replies, which being only the 50% of what they were talking about, it didn’t make a lot of sense. Not that he was interested: Dave was simply hanging out in his room because he had nothing better to do during that warm Summer evening, apparently, and so he simply showed up to Tim’s place with a couple of beers and a remarkable amount of procrastination powers.

Despite being relatively hot outside, Dave was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of long, grey levi jeans, kinda loose as usual. Something that Tim hated about his kink is how quickly he checked his friend’s outfit, something that he always did since Dave is now basically his “fart bud”, against all odds.

“Yeah… yeah… I love you. No… I love you more!”

Kinda funny how Dave, 24, would revert back to an awkward teenager at times whenever he and his girlfriend were on the phone. They probably even acted like that on purpose, because love is doing stupid things together after all.

“Tim. Car. Now!”

Dave hung up and turned weirdly serious, got up and walked downstairs, saying something about getting in the car.

“Wait, what?” Tim asked, questioning whether his friend was being serious or not, but he did follow him to wherever he was going.

“We don’t have much time, Tim. Dana will come back soon. She’s out with her own friends and we have… like… 15 minutes.”

The two walked outside and headed towards the girls’ house, actually only a few blocks away from Tim’s. Tim himself reluctantly followed his bro into this, knowing that, at best, it may turn into a funny mishap to tell to their other pals while being drunk and laugh about it.

“I’ll just pretend your words make any sense, like I usually do…” Tim chuckled, sarcastically, but still following his friend.

“I think she’s hiding something.” Dave explained, walking at a fast pace, Tim right behind him. “She’s been strangely elusive lately and I want to check her room for clues.”

Tim just chuckled in response. “Dave, you do realize that this is not a 90s sit-com, right? Her room? Really? What are you hoping to find out, exactly, anyway? That she’s having some kind of affair behind your back?” he asked, trying to reason with him.

“An affair? You think I’m that kind of guy?” Dave answered, looking surprisingly offended by Tim’s question.   “I just want to make sure she’s fine. She seemed worried about something and she’s like this organized haf-woman/half-machine hybrid who keeps sticky notes in her room to keep an eye on her busy life.”

“Oh…” Tim replied, rather sarcastically.   “Now that makes a lot of sense.”

“Leave your sassiness for later, dork. Can we take your car?” Dave asked.

“Why? We’re already right in front of her house…”

Dave realized that he was so worried that they did, in fact, walked for a couple of blocks and found themselves stepping in Dana’s backyard without even noticing. He just laughed a bit about it.

“Sorry. Love makes me blind.” he joked, knowing that it was a rather silly thing to say anyway.

“Not the words I would have used, but ok.” Tim answered.

“Come on, let’s get inside.” his bro said, with a smirk.  

“Alright… but please, let’s keep a low profile and no awkwa-”

But as they approached to the girl’s house, Dave awkwardly started muttering some kind of theme song that was oddly reminiscent of the Mission Impossibile’s most iconic soundtrack. This guy has a girlfriend, everyone.

“So much for keeping a low profile, Ethan Hunt…” Tim joked.

Dana’s room, following the usual   “average american house tropes” that the writer of this story grew up with in the 90s, was on the second floor. Luckily, the house was empty, so both Tim and Dave could easily climb it without fearing of someone noticing their totally legal actions.

“Look at Tim, such a rebel! Such a fast climber!” Dave whispered, noticing how good Tim was at climbing the girl’s house.

“Thanks. I learned it when I visited your mom.” he joked.

“I thought you’d prefer my dad, you know.” Dave played along, with a rather noticeable reference to Tim’s homosexuality.

“Just… just let’s get done with this.”  

After some awkward climbing, the two found themselves in front of a window leading to Dana’s room. The duo was sitting on a small portion of slanted roof, wondering how to get inside.

“Alright. I could just punch through the window and open it. But you know I don’t like violence against windows.” Dave said, somewhat joking, but really trying to come up with a way to get through this final obstacle.

“Never mind, it’s open.” Tim said, as his hand passed right through the window.   “Or, you know, I got ghost powers all of the sudden, but I doubt it.”

“You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.” Dave commented, as he got inside his girlfriend’s room, making sure no one was there, immediately followed by his sassy friend.

The room was fairly big and messy, books and magazines scattered all around the floor and the bed. Dana was a busy woman: she got a degree in economics but, given the tough times, she had troubles finding a decent job lately. Dave actually suspected that this was the reason she was being nervous about, well, everything, understandably.

“Why don’t you just ask her instead of acting like the perfect boyfriend material that you are?” Tim stated, in his usual snarky tone, noticing Dave basically rummaging through Dana’s more personal stuff.

“Just… let me do my thing ok?” he was serious again, trying to find something that could be clue, deep down knowing that all of that was quite non-sense and even ridiculous, but his stubbornness was showing.   “Wait…”

Something drew his attention. A red (therefore important, according to Dana’s code) sticky note on the nightstand. Something was written on it.

“Oh… I guess I was right…” Dave whispered, eyes glued on the note.

“Something about her job?”  

But Tim didn’t get an answer, as they heard someone coming from downstairs. They probably were so focused on their mission that didn’t even notice how someone got inside the house minutes after them. They went silent and tried to listen to the person’s footsteps.

“Yeah. I’ll keep you posted.”

They heard a muffled female voice getting closer, probably talking on her phone. A voice that was very familiar.

“Fuck! It’s Dana!” Dave whispered.

The two looked around, looking for a quick solution or a place to hide, blatantly ignoring the window they used to get inside in the first place.

“The closet!” Dave said.

Without even questioning whether this was a good idea or not, the duo sneaked inside Dana’s closet and closed themselves inside just as the girl came into her room, still talking on the phone about something.

Tim and Dave managed to mess things up however, as they ended up in a very small section of that apparently big, spacious closet, so they had to arrange themselves in a weird position. Dave was standing up, towering over Tim, who found himself sitting on the floor instead, right behind his friend… with his face perfectly aligned with his loose jeans butt. As his eyes got adjusted to the dark, Tim started to distinguish the seams and texture’s on Dave’s jeans ass, and the tiny red Levi tag on the right back pocket. He couldn’t help but take a look, which he felt really unnecessary, given the context.

“So… this is where you lived for most of your life…” Dave joked, looking around, as if the closet was some kind of fancy mansion.

“Haha! Another gay joke! Great timing, Dave!” Tim muttered instead. The last thing they had to do was talk.

The two waited for a couple of minutes, hoping that Dana would just leave again or even just go downstairs, so they’d have enough time to get out of there in the hopes that Dave didn’t leave any clue of his presence.

“As long a we remain silent…” Tim whispered.   “We have nothing to worry about.”

Only moments after saying that, he felt a very familiar sound greeting his face. It was a long, rumbling sound coming from Dave’s denim ass. It was one of his usual, well-known loud farts, a fart that he was desperately trying to keep as silent as possible. Luckily, Dana was too busy with her phone to even notice the weird noise coming from inside of her closet.

“Dave! What the fuck?!” Tim hissed.

The gassy friend tried not to laugh, realizing how idiotic the whole situation was.   “I’m sorry dude.” he murmured.   “You know what happens when I’m nervous!”  

The smell was unbearable already. Being in a such small space didn’t certainly help. Those were probably some of the smelliest farts Dave ever managed to rip in Tim’s face, although this time was, against all odds, more like an accident.

“Tim…” Dave whispered, carefully placing his butt closer to his friend’s face.

Another fart erupted, sounding dangerously louder than the previous one. The rough surface of Dave’s denim gently caressed Tim’s nose. The blast of gas then turned into something much more subtle, but still otherwise bubbly. Tim felt his nose burn, as really he had no choice but to breath all of that in.

“Dave I swear. If you don’t stop, Dana’s gonna–”

But another   “slow-paced” rumbly fart cut him off. Dave was seriously trying to contain his well-known farting abilities. Tim, instead, was trying to remain calm, feeling like the Universe was somehow messing with him. That was an insane situation: he certainly wasn’t new to Dave’s farts, but in that context, it felt almost like one of his weird dreams about his fart fetish.

“Tim I’m sorry, at least I know you don’t mind… I hope”

Funnily enough, despite the slightly amused tone in his whispering voice, Dave sounded genuinely sorry. Yet he was right: Tim was insanely enjoying it, but knowing that Dana was out there made the whole thing almost surreal. And, once again, as much as Dave always proved so chill about this stuff, he couldn’t help but feel somehow awkward about having his friend face-farting him so non-chalantly.

And yet another   “ninja” fart was ripped all over his face.   Being nervous really turned Dave’s stomach into a messy cloud of gas, and Tim’s nose was there to vacuum it all up, completely defenseless, standing before the sheer power of the gassy friend’s powerful denim-covered anus.

Even though the situation was absurd, Dave couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. After all, the smell hit him too, and it was getting insane even for the farter himself, whose gas just didn’t stop building up.

“Sorry bro… I have to do this.” he whispered.

Tim felt Dave’s hands gently grabbing the back of his head, holding it still, as he pulled him in the clutches of his denim butt. The warm fabric of the jeans was soaking in that unbearable smell. The sniffer then felt the weight of his gassy friend almost crushing his skull. Despite being dark, Tim realized that Dave was basically sitting on him, using his head as some kind of human stool.

The fart was directly ripped in Tim’s mouth at that point, that rumbly sound once again renewing the already destructive stench. It was supposed to be loud, so loud, that Dave had to basically use his friend’s face to deadpan its impressive thunderous noise. The gassy bro was trying to rip it in the form of a long series, hoping that Dana would fail to hear (or even recognize) his well-known gross, but rather impressive talent.

Tim heard his friend’s sighs of relief after each, rumbling fart, but Dave was also trying not to burst into a laughter that could blow their cover. Fart fetish or not, he couldn’t help but to find it more hilarious than gross.

As much as the lack of space in that closet wouldn’t really allow it, Dave even lifted his right leg a bit, while still   “sitting” on his stool-friend, as a way to facilitate the impressive amount of gas gushing out from his anus. It’s not like he had to worry about Tim passing out or finding it too gross, anyway.

That fart itself was lasting longer than both of them anticipated. They lost count of how much time passed, probably a full minute. Tim’s face was warm and sweaty now, still trapped in the clutches of his gassy bro’s denim butt, directly living in person that thin line between Fart Heaven and Fart Hell.

A final sigh of relief, followed by a louder toot and a chuckle.   “Sorry, bud.” Dave muttered, hoping that his plan worked.

Indeed, Dana didn’t hear a thing. She hung up and left the room, her footsteps slowly turning into a far, muffled sound, until silence announced that the duo was now free to get the heck out of there, especially considering how they were almost both choking on farts.

Tim forgot what fresh, non-fart air felt like in his nostrils and so took a deep, refreshing breath the moment he stepped out of that gas closet. Ironically, Dave did the same, maybe even wondering how would Tim even endure something as overwhelming as his farts, but he didn’t really mind anyway. Despite everything, that was oddly hilarious, as the two stared at each other and then bursted into a laughter.

“Now let’s get out of here…” the farter suggested.

But before the two could even walk towards the window, Dana showed up again in her own room. She didn’t even startle.

“What are you two doing here?” she asked, sounding more like an inquisitive mom than an angry girlfriend. She was fairly mature, after all. “I don’t know what you Dumb and Dumber are up to, but I swear if you–”

“I heard the news, Dana. We were just outside your window…” Dave explained, slightly tweaking the truth. “We wanted to play a stupid scary prank but then I heard it, while you were on the phone you know…”

Dana shook her head and laughed a bit. She hugged her boyfriend and kissed him.

“Yes! I got the job!” she giggled. “Sorry I’ve been so cold lately. The job interview made me so nervous…”

“It’s fine, Dana. You’ve always been stone-cold anyway!” Dave joked, earning a playful slap on his chest by his girlfriend.

“Yes, that’s a very import–wait what’s that smell?” the girl asked, sniffling loudly the air around him.

Tim’s heart almost stopped while Dave did his best to not just laugh like an immature prankster. His hair, clothes, skin, were completely “soaked” in his gassy bro’s gas, so naturally he’d himself smell like flatulence.

“Never mind. It must be you, Dave. He farts like crazy when he’s nervous, Tim, I swear.” she said, disgusted but slightly amused as well.

“Ow… it’s part of my charm, babe.” Dave replied, using what he would have considered an irresistible flirty tone of voice, which was super awkward instead.

“And yeah. Tim’s very aware of my skills, right?” he joked, winking at him, like the big teasing bastard he’s always been since he found out about his fart kink.

Tim just shrugged, faking a disgusted look, his heart racing fast, knowing that all he had to do after that was take the biggest shower in the hope that such unbearable stench didn’t fuse with the atoms in his body.

“Well, it’s gonna be a wild ride!” Dana exulted, happy about her new job offer.

“How about a round of beers to celebrate?” Tim suggested. “It’s on me, no worries.”

“Great idea, but I’m paying. I got the job, you dumb-dumbs get to drink!” Dana replied. She was in a very good mood.

“It’s fine, Dana! It’s the least we can do after-“ but Dave interrupted him.

“Come on Tim, stop living in outdated gender roles and let the pretty girl buy you a drink.” he said, faking a serious tone.

The girlfriend simply rolled her eyes and left the room “Just… meet me downstairs when you’re done saving the world, ok?”

As Dana was nowhere in sight, Dave simply turned to Tim and let another huge, long one rip.

“Shhh. Just tying up some loose ends here.” he said, shushing the gay friend, blasting what was left of his gas out.

“Are you finish-“ “Not yet” he simply said, as if he was making sure no particle of gas was left behind.

With one high pitched final note that was met with some immature laughter, Dave sighed in relief.

“With that said” he chuckled “You might want to take a shower.”

Tim simply nodded with an unamused expression.

“Oh, and you might want to leave the other closet you’ve been hiding.”

That was out of nowhere.

“No pressure bro, just know that we’re all always more than happy to have a beer with you.”

“Thanks Da-“

“Despite your bigoted views on gender roles of course.”

“I’m going to punch you now.”

The duo then headed downstairs and no one got punched luckily.

Tim thought about his friend’s words and how it was probably time to leave that metaphorical stuffy closet soon or later, not that he felt forced or anything.

Dana’s closet, however, that’s probably the only one he enjoyed being trapped into…

End of Episode 9

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

[heart-stomper]

Unspoken Trust, Unspoken Fears

Gathering my thoughts on Sasha and Marcy’s dynamic before S3 proves me wrong shows us what’s going on with these two.

It’s time to look at The Dinner and Battle of the Bands, and then use it as a guide to read the room in True Colors.

No worries! You just gotta speak their language. - Sasha, Reunion

Or in this case, know when to stay quiet. 

Sasha gets really really frustrated this episode. Like, so bad, that if that Volcakeno didn’t erupt, she might have been the one to end the friendship. Even Marcy and Grime couldn’t calm her down. But that’s the thing, before this point, they were the only ones to get through to Sasha without provoking her.

Grime keeps Sasha in line; she rolls her eyes and is clearly annoyed every time she has to hold herself back, but her willingness to keep it cool shows she ultimately agrees with Grime’s plan and sees it as the best path to success.  When Marcy chimes in, it’s with a helpful answer to Sasha’s question. She reminds Sasha of why they stopped Doing Thing by explaining how their plan failed. She avoids judging Sasha for it, and frames it as the repercussions of their actions, as a group. Marcy is on Sasha’s side, so Sasha doesn’t put up any defenses. When Sasha decides to avoid arguing with Anne however, it isn’t for Anne. It’s for the plan, for her and Grime.

Marcy has enough faith in Sasha to believe she’d never want to purposefully hurt Anne, but is careful about broaching the subject. Sasha feels attacked very easily, and will quickly trivialize or downplay things if she feels the other person is being unreasonable or doesn’t ‘get’ her.

And that is the only time Marcy speaks up besides The Big Argument. She only jumps into actual conflicts if things get too heated. Otherwise, she just lets Sasha do her thing, and lets Anne argue with Sasha... sort of.

This isn’t collaboration. It’s a hostile takeover. Why do things always have to be your way?

Now, for the bait and switch. Let’s talk about Marcy’s behavior in Day at the Aquarium and New Wartwood, and Sasha’s in Toadcatcher and Barrel’s Warhammer… while tying it all back to Battle of Bands!

You didn’t tell me you were writing a song! Let’s do it! I mean, if that’s okay with you, Sasha.

In A Day at the Aquarium, Marcy’s first instinct to Anne saying she’s going back with the Plantars is to make a plan. To show that it isn’t actually what will benefit Anne’s Goals. She doesn’t even consider opening up as an option, and avoids saying anything that could cause conflict. New Wartwood, Marcy tries to chat with the citizens of Wartwood and get to know them. But when that doesn’t work, she decides that impressing them with her knowledge and usefulness is bound to make them like her. It has to.

It does seem simpler.

Trying to win people over by claiming a plan is of mutual interest and necessary, carefully choosing which words to use, viewing relationships as a puzzle to be solved… this isn’t the sort of thing Marcy needs to do to get along with someone like Anne. It’s how Marcy copes with Sasha. Sasha lashes out and belittles bad ideas. Sasha has to be convinced the plan benefits her, suits her. Vulnerability and love aren’t enough to make her care, so Marcy does what she can to prove she’s worth being around. She might even sometimes wonder if Sasha actually likes her, or just likes what she can do for her. She rather not find out.

Whenever she’s afraid of people not liking her, or is worried that she’ll lose them, she dives right into those bad habits. She can give her opinions, but they aren’t supposed to get in the way of what Sasha wants. She’s supposed to say “That’s amazing! What do you think Sash’?” not “Let’s do it!”

Listen. There’s another reason why I’ve been training so hard. To protect the one person I know I can count on right now. You. You’re right, I already lost one friend. I’m not about to lose another. - Sasha, Toadcatcher

In Toadcatcher, there’s that scene, where Sasha looks at the BFF picture and the wind cuts off Anne for a second so it’s just her and Marcy. This is where Sasha is at. Anne might have rebelled, but when Sasha reunites with Marcy? Oh, she’ll show Anne, one way or another. They’ll get her back (like, joining the team or revenge wise, depending on Sasha’s mood.)

Listen here you buffoon! What’s it gonna take to prove that you should follow us? - Barrel’s Warhammer

Aaaand Sasha freaks out royally when she learns the two are alone together and doing just fine. On some level, she fears Anne and Marcy “getting along without her” because it means they might decide they don’t actually need her to make plans; that she isn’t necessary to have fun. In the The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers, we see that isn’t as big a catastrophe as Sasha seems to think it’d be. As time goes on, the girls do gain a healthier relationship to their feelings about Sasha, but that doesn’t mean they’d want her gone even if they don’t need her there. But Sasha doesn’t know that, she doesn’t even consider it till reuniting in The Third Temple. All she knows for now, is that she can be a bit... much... so if she isn’t in control, if her way isn’t “the best”, why would Marcy put up with her either? 

Listen. If things get too wild out here, just give me a signal and I’ll call the whole thing off. 

 For sure, teach it to us Anne. 

Every Sasha plan starts with an empty reassurance. So much of Sasha’s dialogue follows a pattern where she says stuff like “we’ll call it off” (she did not call it off) and “for sure, I don’t mind” (she did mind) that it could be it’s own game. Sasha talks the talk, until it gets in the way of what she wants.

Sorry guys, but we’re way to close to bail. I am not going back empty-handed.

It’s good. I just have a few tiny notes that I think could make it even better. ... Boom! Fiixed it! 

If they just follow her lead and let her fix it, everything will work out. They should believe in her and trust her. After all...

That’s not true! Besides, we did it. ... You’re not actually gonna throw this all away are you?

I just wanted all of us to succeed. I was just being a good friend. Why couldn’t they see that?

It all worked out, right? Percy and Braddock made it out okay even if she didn’t follow through on her promise. They won, she’s reliable. But of course, Sasha lost something more important than their belief in her abilities, she lost their trust. In Battle of the Bands however, Sasha recognizes that Anne and Marcy don’t want to follow her ambitions and will be pushed away by them just like Percy and Braddock were. So she takes it upon herself to end things, accepting that she’s lost.

Sorry it took so long.

Except this time, she manages to realize that maybe “what she wants” is to be there for her friends. Sasha’s finally had the space to relax and really think about what she wants, at least a little. This isn’t a real battle after all. Doing things her way all the time isn’t as important as she thought. Maybe she should trust in her friends more. A change of pace isn’t “wrong”, just different. It’s fun.

Sorry we lost, Sash’.

Just like Percy and Braddock, Marcy knows Sasha is capable. She understands that Sasha just wants the team to succeed. That’s why she apologizes when Grime beats them in the competition. She wants Sasha to know she appreciates what she did, but keeps it a bit indirect. She gets Sasha probably didn’t want to push them away. Marcy tried to catch herself and back Sasha up, but when Sasha had her argument with Anne, she stayed quiet. She couldn’t bring herself to go against Anne. 

That was ultimately for the best, as Sasha learned a valuable lesson. Except... She’s in too deep with the rebellion to back out now. This is the episode she’d spill the truth and give up on the whole thing, except... Grime. A part of her knows leaving would make Grime her enemy. She can’t risk that. So, she keeps going with the plan. She decides she’ll somehow win it all back. Because the thing she’s actually most afraid of, is losing another friend. 

Sorry things got a little crazy back there. You guys good? ... Sheesh, don’t be a sore loser. Look, I’m gonna stay here and get this toad regime off the ground, but I can totally send you two home if you want. Or, you can stick around and give me a hand! So what’d’ya say?

Sasha’s final offer; the last chance she’s giving the girls to stop acting weird and go back to being her obedient friends who do what she wants. Sasha lost at Toad Tower, but now she’s won. So Anne should go back to normal, she’s supposed to, like some unspoken “rule”.

And Marcy is supposed fall back in line too. The offer and apology are just as much a plea directed at her. Sasha’s trying to be generous, in her own awkward way. She has bit her tongue so far. She’s thrown a temper tantrum or two, but she hasn’t been this forward in asking Marcy for help till now. She wants Marcy to say that everything’s okay. Make it clear she doesn’t think she’s the bad guy, and that she forgives her and wants to be there for her. That they’re on the same page again. She wants Marcy to help make Anne look overly dramatic and silly for making such a big deal of all this. Sure, if Anne figures that out by herself, that’d be great, but if Marcy could just speak up.

But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

Marcy’s too busy worrying about Anne’s reaction. Knowing that she’ll be upset about this. She doesn’t dare side with Sasha, and is disappointed and betrayed that she actually did something like this. Marcy already has her own secret plans, so when she finally tries to calm things down, all she can give is a non-descript “we can still fix this”. And then, she’s once again shocked when she sees Sasha threaten Anne and the Plantars. Seeing Sasha act so willing to actually hurt people rather than just push them around... it finally hits her just how serious “tried to kill them” was. And of course, losing Anne or being sent home with her would completely mess up her own plans.

Sasha’s isn’t a vulnerable person. She’ll go on about loving her friends if it makes her look good, but she actively avoids doing anything that could be seen as “weak”. She wouldn’t dare ask Marcy to drop Anne and choose her. If Marcy isn’t speaking up, she can take the hint. She still isn’t on her side, and so she gets sent to the dungeon along with the rest of them.

Marcy accepts that Sasha has become an obstacle, but a part of her still hopes the three of them can work through all this. If they do things her way, nobody has to get hurt. She'll figure out a way hold everything together, fix everything, like always.

And then Andrias betrays her.

Yeah, what plan?

Sasha stops talking once she realizes what’s going on. Quietly fuming as Marcy explains herself. The music box, the suggestion to take it back to Andrias... that wasn’t Marcy being the sweet, supportive friend who Sasha thought she could always rely on, who believed in her... that was Marcy using her. It was never going to become their plan; Marcy never trusted her and was actively working against her. Sasha lost Anne, and she never had a chance at getting Marcy back, either. 

Sasha smacks Marcy away when she desperately tries to justify herself. She doesn’t want to hear it anymore. She’s furious that Marcy thinks they could be friends after something like this, after she’s manipulated them and claimed it was for their sakes. This whole time, her goal had been avoiding the move with her parents. And coming here has only torn them apart even worse.

Marcy reaches out to both girls. And when Sasha rejects her, she clings to Anne, hoping at least she’ll find it in her to forgive her. That she’ll understand she cares about them even if she messed up. Marcy knows they’d probably never pick her over their families or ambitions, so she told herself this place offered those things too. Made them all better people. But as she says her excuses out loud, she can’t find a single one that feels right. She was just afraid of losing them, and now, she’s managed to hurt them on top of that. 

But the thing is. After all that. Despite how betrayed and hurt and angry Sasha was, she looks like this:

Sasha realizes this must be exactly how Anne felt about her betrayal. It isn’t just an abstract “hurt” or “bad thing” anymore. She can also sympathize with how Marcy feels and why she did it, at least a little. She can’t imagine being able to forgive this, and yet... when she looks to Anne with that apologetic look, she isn’t just hoping Anne will forgive her. She’s also asking for permission to forgive Marcy. Pleading that they all still have a chance to move past this together.

#implying toadcatcher is subtextually about Marcy #naturally these are all just my assumptions and guesses #jottin down theories and observations #and often the tone is 'what sasha thinks' or 'what marcy thinks' rather than a birds eye opinion on the situation #anne gets through to sasha and marcy with a mixture of vulnerability and honesty #it sometimes backfires and they still tend to hide a lot of their feelings #but standing her ground and finding herself really did inspire others too #sasha seems to trust marcy even if anne's messed the group dynamic up #so I wrote this under the assumption she's paying more attention to anne because well #anne is the one who 'betrayed' her #she doesn't need to worry about marcy (so she thinks) #sasha also seems to think she's 'manipulating' and 'convincing' her friends when she's simply invoking fear in them #because while she does like control the idea of them not sincerely adoring her screws her up #sasha and marcy both seem to get into these situations where they feel helpless #where their plans are 'the only option' #and they become so focused on it they fail to realize what they're sacrificing in the process #sasha straight up refuses to believe grime's warnings that she'll push people away #and marcy is desperate and doesn't think she has anyone to rely on except andrias #while marcy probably does play the game to get sasha to do what she wants sometimes #I kinda love how they've deconstructed the whole concept of a 'leader' #neither of them are really 'in control' #they're just needlessly overcomplicating their friendship #learning marcy knows how to play sasha does explain why she falls so easily into the lieutenant role though #sasha really takes other people's plans and goes 'our plans <3' haha #amphibia #sasha waybright #marcy wu #amphibia spoilers

[yanderemommabean]

Okay but consider! Hawks was the lead in a band. He was the lead for years, from early teens into adulthood and then he just...burned out. It wasn't drugs or sex (or maybe it was, up to you), but just how fake it was. He couldn't do anything without approval from corporate, and all these fans, they didn't like him, they liked the persona they made for him. And it got to him, bit by bit. He's a shell of himself when he meets his darling, and suddenly it's like looking into the face of a muse.

Another concert, another ten hours on his feet as he has to do make up, practice, make sure the instruments work with the crew, and of course make the fans nearly wet themselves with his appearance and voice alone. Every day it’s “OH MY GOD IT’S HAWKS” or “IT’S HIM IT’S HIM IT’S HIM!”.

They don’t even really care about how he feel about being smooshed into selfies and made into clout fuel for people who only want the most likes. Which to be fair, he’s apart of that group sometimes, he might have wings but he’s far from a saint, but even to him it gets a bit much with how much they only want to gain attention.

It’s not nearly as luxurious as people assume. He has a contract, has to make an album every few months otherwise his fame and band are dropped like a bag of trash into a junkyard. He’s stressed an unable to make any new songs, and the fact he has to preform while trying to perfect his newest works drains him considerably.

He doesn’t have time to be himself. He doesn’t have time or luxury to just be Keigo. No. He has to keep up this act and be the flirtatious, rebelling bad boy all the fans masturbate too and fantasize about. (Kudos to the fic writers by the way! He’s seen some good shit!).

Hawks vs Keigo. No one knows the real him. They all go for the media showered, Instagram famous persona with his band mates tagging alongside. Keigo is a more laid back, needing personal space, wanting time alone to think kind of person. He doesn’t mind doing things and going out, he just gets his daily quota of social interaction in a matter of minutes.

So when you have millions of fans wanting your attention and grabbing onto you all the fucking time, you can imagine how unwilling and uninterested he is in even preforming or socializing.

Tonight was no different, Keigo and the band sang and played their hearts out, got a few fans some autographs and let their ears ache from how loud the fans would squeal. Yeah yeah yeah same old phrases spout with new faces.

Remembering there was a bar nearby, Keigo decided it was time for a few drinks. Or a hundred. He fidgets for the sunglasses in his bag, and slides on a different shirt to head out in, trying to make his hair style different as well when he walks by a window and sees it’s still spiked. It wasn’t the most convincing disguise but it would do.

Sliding into a seat near the corner of the bar, Keigo slumps with a huff, letting his hands run down his face while he tries to let his mind slow down and soak in what’s been happening all day. The concert, the meet and greet, the signing, the interviews, the managers constant reminder that he needed new songs and soon.

“Need a breather?” Your voice mused, catching his attention for a second. Ah. Great. A fan. Time to put on the mask again. He gives a wry expression and nods his head “even party boys need a break. Care to help one out?”.

Ah. Weak flirting. That would never go by with the press. Where’s his skill?!

You noticed the tired expression in his eyes, how he forced a smile to keep your attention on his more well known persona. You didn’t buy it. You’ve seen that look in too many people to let it slide and go unnoticed. This man needed a beer and needed one pronto.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you sit in the seat next to him, drumming your fingers on the counter as you try to think of an answer that wasn’t too forward. “Listen...I can tell you’re super exhausted. You can drop the act, ya know?”. You cough, face turning a bit red as you realize that you’re talking to a celebrity. You keep telling yourself that it doesn’t matter, you’re both human and capable of communicating.

It shouldn’t be a big deal to speak your mind to the hottest, most sought after singer in the world. Who are you kidding? Of course it is.

Keigo arches an eyebrow at your statement, and sits closer to the counter. It’s odd having someone see through his act. Sure his disguise sucked and anyone within ten feet could tell he was Hawks, but to have someone see he wasn’t who the media said, it was a shocking but well welcomed breath of fresh air.

“You...heh you cut to the chase don’t ya, kid?” He said with mirth.

“Well I hate bullshit. I-I would rather be upfront and honest.” You admit sheepishly, looking away from his hazel eyes timidly. “Didnt mean to offend you or anything” you added, hands shaking.

Offend? He’s the exact opposite! Finally, someone who’s honest and not conceded! He’s only just met you and he’s felt more of a connection here than with his own band! “Nah nah! You’re fine! I love bluntness. It’s nice to have every now and again when you’re used to bullshit”.

You giggle at that, nodding in agreement. Soon you two break more of the ice, discussing the most random but humorous things, not noticing how Keigo’s eyes gloss over with awe and admiration. It’s been so long since he could let go and be himself, he never wants to leave your company. It’s an ache in his mind to think about since he’s got to be back on the tour bus in less than two hours.

“Hey-“ his hand snatches your phone from your hands as you were replying to a friend “-I’m giving you my number ok? I’m about to have to head out and I would rather die than miss talking to you”.

As he types the number into your contacts, you couldn’t help but freeze up. Was this actually happening? You just spent hours chatting away with Hawks, and are now getting his contact information?! Surely you were drugged. Had to be! No fucking way is this happening like some cheap hallmark Christmas plot!

“Y/N right?” He slides the phone back over to you, giving you his signature flirtatious grin “I better hear from you tonight. I’ll lose sleep if I think a new friend is hurt or ignoring me”.

You blush even harder, and nod, not being able to really speak. He stands, patting your shoudler as he slides his sunglasses back on “Oh! I almost forgot-“ he pulls out a wad of cash, slamming it on the counter “For the drinks. It’s the least I can do for someone as entertaining as you”.

You cover your face in your hands and try to stop the flurry of emotions bubbling up. You thank him, hearing him chuckle as he leaves the bar, not seeing the smile on his face as he walks back to where the tour bus was parked.

———————————————

Days go by, and every chance Keigo gets he’s messaging you, becoming antsy when you don’t respond within seconds. Sometimes he sends hundreds of messages a day, sometimes he’s on the phone with you for hours, or simply stalking your social media when you tell him you’re going to bed.

As long as he interacts with you, he’s sated and calm. Thinking up songs has never felt so easy, each day he makes a new hit, making the managers happy that he finally quit acting so down in the dumps. Months go by, and he’s still on the top charts, being the idol fanboys and girls pair themselves with.

But he doesn’t pay attention to that. He’s focused on you and only you. That shy encounter with you has changed his perspective, and all he wants to do is be with you. Flirting with you was easy enough but you always turned him down, saying things that didn’t make sense.

You’d say “Oh I don’t think we’d be compatible...you’d get tired of me” or “I think you’re just needing a hook up, but I’m flattered!”.

You’re crazy. He could never get tired of you. What will it take to get you to be with him and travel the world together?! Perhaps you just need more persuasion? A romantic gift? A gesture that proves he’s serious?

Well if that’s what you need then he’ll happily supply it. Just give him a few days, he’ll make sure you see how serious he is about being yours (and you being his. Only his). Should he make a song about what he loves about you the most? Maybe a song on how he fell for you?

A song on what he wants to do with you and your body? Or maybe you need a bit of danger, and need him to state what he’s willing to do to get you.

He’ll figure it out. Soon you’ll be his forever muse, he just needs to serenade you first.

(This was shit I know I know but I love this AU so much! -Mommabean )

#Yandere band au #band AU #Yandere Hawks #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #Yandere bnha #Yandere male #Mommabean #bnha

[starlost-andfound]

at the divide // d.s (seasons change au)

Warning: The events in this au are an addition to the timeline of Seasons Change by @chilling-seavey (also pic credits to her <3). To avoid spoilers, please go read that amazing masterpiece first (and check out her other writing)

Inspired by If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves

Summary: Daniel searches for Marigold’s presence in a time he misses her the most.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and grief, alcohol consumption, kind of unedited

Word Count: Approximately 3K

A/N: If you want to really feel this one, listen to If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves and Marigold and Daniel’s song Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen

I'll meet you at the divide

To break the spell

It was too good to be true, like a fantasy with a tragic twist, a hope for a sunny day clouded by storms. Daniel carried a heavy heart yet he felt empty. His heart beat in his chest, pumping life into his veins but he loomed around in silence. He was a ghost haunted by the walls of his own home. The house was draped in an eerie quiet, so quiet Daniel could hear the clock ticking in his bedroom from downstairs. He set aside his freshly washed plate in the drying rack and dumped his emptied beer bottle in the bin. When Lennox went to school, lunches were painfully quiet. Daniel often found himself in front of the TV, eating his lunch with the background noise of any program playing on the screen.

With a sigh he rested his hands against the counter, leaning forward. His eyes drifted to the living room, where a line of photo frames stood on the mantle above the fireplace. She was everywhere. Daniel didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse. The clock ticked rhythmically, Daniel couldn't count the hours. His fingers traced the frames on the mantle. She was always smiling, even when it hurt the most. He never understood how. How could she hold all the rays of the sun while her star collapsed? He was the moon without a sun sharing its light, a dark unlit sky with lonely stars.

Stars. Lennox. Daniel smiled shakily, his vision blurring as he stood in front of the last photo on the fireplace. Even as the faces and colours blended together with his tears, he could still remember the image clearly. Lennox’s first hockey match. Lennox was squashed between Daniel and Marigold, wearing his hockey gear. They all held matching smiles on their faces. She was everywhere and maybe that’s what made it so hard to let go, suffocating when her presence was embedded in the air around him.

Daniel grabbed himself a beer and sat down on the couch, picking up a familiar belonging: a scrapbook Marigold had crafted for them, celebrating their early dating anniversaries. The book’s cover was brightly decorated with stars and stickers. He sat down, tracing his fingers over the scribbled text in her handwriting. He flipped through the pages, taking his time to trace the stuck-on tickets and read the small love letters Marigold had delicately weaved in her writing.

A point where two worlds collide

Yeah, we'll rebel

His mind felt dizzy with the slight tinge of alcohol. All the memories printed into the scrapbook seemed like distant conversations and hazy images. He turned the page over, his eyes falling to a scribbled date in the middle and countless doodles and stickers in the background. His heart dropped as his mind took him back to one of the most special nights in his life.His mind and heart pulled him down like an anchor into the sea, dragging him deeper until there wasn’t enough light left to see.  

Daniel wiped the stream of tears off his face, closing the book. He sunk down farther into the couch, holding his head as he cried. He exhaled shakily, feeling a light feather touch trailed up his shoulder. Daniel tensed as he heard a whisper. The voice was smooth like a calming wind, familiar like the arms of a lover.

“Why so many tears, my sweet?”

He opened his eyes and from the blurry mist in his eyes he saw the form of the woman who carried his heart.

“Sunshine,” he breathed. Daniel threw his arms around her in an instant. He cried, clinging on to her tighter as sobs shook his body.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Marigold held him close, rubbing soothing circles over his back. She kissed his head as he cried. She tried to pull back slightly but Daniel only held her closer.

“How- you-you’re here-I don’t know what to do, Marigold,” he whimpered. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Why would you say that, hmm?” she pulled back and cupped his cheeks. Her thumbs wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You’re doing so well, my sweet. I am so proud of you.”

Daniel shook his head from side to side. He gripped her shirt and rested his head against her chest. His lips trembled, “I just want you back.”

Marigold sighed quietly, “You know that’s not possible.”

“Please don’t go. ”

And we run

And we run

And we run

Until we break through

“I won’t leave just yet,” she stroked his hair gently.

Daniel sniffled, and looked up. He reached his hand up, brushing his hand along her jaw and then cupping her cheek, “You are very real.”

Marigold laughed softly, “Yes, I am here.”

“Do you-” Daniel held her hand. “Does it hurt anymore?”

Marigold smiled, “Not anymore, no.”

Daniel smiled shakily, feeling the tears build up again at the answer he wished he had heard many months ago. He sat up and his hands reached up to caress her cheek. She had this golden glow that reminded Daniel of when she was carrying Lennox. “You’re so beautiful.”

Marigold smiled.

Daniel pressed his forehead against hers, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, my sweet.”

He leaned closer, pressing his lips on hers. Her soft lips and skin disappeared under his touch, fading into the air. Daniel fell forward on the couch, his hands gripping the fabric. He snapped his head around in search of her, letting out a strangled cry as he was met with the walls of his living room.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

Daniel was falling into a routine and he was growing to hate it. With no energy by noon, he often landed on a couch, a drink in his hand and the multiple CD’s of home videos by his side. He never drank too much before Lennox came home. Lennox was the only light which filled the gaping hole in his chest but the sharp taste of the beer numbed his mind. It calmed the storm of emotions he carried inside, just for a few moments and for him that was enough. Daniel entered the living room with a beer in his hand, heading to the CD’s by the television. The text on the CD covers were fading where he held them, some more than others, exposing the amount of times he watched them.

I feel my loss every night

Not long to wait

He slumped back down on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand as the video loaded. A crackle echoed over the speaker before a soft voice spoke.

And if I do this thing right

I dream of our escape

“Lennox, say hi,” Marigold whispered behind the camera.

She zoomed in on a baby Lennox, waddling around the flowers in the garden in his small yellow boots. He wore one of Marigold’s old sweaters, far too small for her but slightly too large for the little boy. The sleeves and hem of the sweater were rolled up, hugging his body. Spud turned to the camera and grinned, his two little teeth sticking out. He waved his arm at the camera and turned back to the flowers decorating their garden.

He pointed at the bunch of hydrangeas and tugged at his sweater, “Blue. Like mine.”

Marigold gasped, “Yes, well done my shining star!”

Spud giggled and the camera turned just as Daniel’s car rolled into the driveway.

“Daddy’s here!‘ Marigold captured Daniel stepping out of the truck with a smile. Lennox squealed, running to Daniel with his hands up. “Dada!”

Daniel scooped him up into his arms, bouncing him gently, “Hi Spud, I missed you!”

Marigold shuffled closer to Daniel, the camera lens covered as they shared a quick kiss, “Hi my sweet.”

“Hey sunshine.”

The camera flipped, fitting all three of them into the frame. Lennox grabbed the camera in his hands and pressed the lens close to his face.

“Oh, careful Spud.”

The curious child attempted to hold the camera out like his mother, pointing at the flowers, “Blue!” The garden twisted into a spiral as the camera tumbled out of his hands and the video cut off.

Daniel sniffled quietly and took a gulp of his beer. The next video began to roll. He heard the familiar sound of her footsteps down the stairs. The camera trailed the floor until it lifted up outside the house, pointing at Daniel.

“Look how handsome my baby daddy is.”

Daniel glanced up at the camera with a bashful smile. Marigold pulled him up by his arm so he could be seen better and she set her hand against his chest, giving him a pat.

“I’m going to have to keep close eyes on you at Sunday brunch. All the ladies are gonna want a piece of this.”

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel chuckled shyly.

“And my other handsome man!” Marigold added, shuffling around the open door to get a good shot of the baby in the car seat. “Gonna be fighting the ladies off you too, my beautiful boy.”

Lennox blinked up at her but her same smile could be seen forming behind his pacifier that bumped excitedly against his little nose. Marigold turned the camera around as she leaned in with Daniel, capturing both of them together and Daniel just smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She looked up at him lovingly, “Happy first Father’s Day, my sweet.”

“Thank you.” Daniel smiled, meeting her halfway for a kiss. “And thank you for making me a father.”

They shared a few more kisses and ‘I love you’s until Lennox let out a small cry.

“Oh my.” Marigold said, addressing the camera again as Daniel left the frame to care for Lennox, “Well, when Lennox says it’s time to go, it’s time to go! We have church to get to and a bunch to show off at.”

When she was a few steps away, the camera caught her admiring her husband over her shoulder as he finished buckling in the baby.

She looked back to the camera and spoke gently with her wide grin spread all over her soft face, “Lennox Blake, if you’re watching this some time in the future when you’re grown up and annoyed by your parents – just know that you have the best daddy in the whole stinking world. I picked him out myself for you so that’s how you know he’s good.”

The camera clicked softly and a another video played.

The screen zoomed in on Daniel and Lennox across the grass. Lennox was tucked up on his shoulder and Daniel was pointing out little flowers and the buds on the trees as they walked. He finally looked over and caught Marigold filming, a shy smile taking over his face and he rested his head against his son’s tiny body.

And we run

And we run

Daniel was a mess, his stray tears turning into quiet sobs. He turned off the TV, the bright screen of colours and memories turning into a reflection of his pain. He chugged down the rest of his second beer and dragged himself off the couch. The air felt stuffy, like he couldn’t breathe properly. He swayed as he stumbled to the garden door, nearly falling down the steps. A choked sob left his lips and he covered his mouth. He stormed past the bushes of overgrown, wilting flowers.

And we run

Until we break through

Daniel stumbled to the back of the garden, grabbing the support of the garden swing. The tears fell down his face , smudging the darkening colours of the flowers around him. He slid down to the grass, leaning his head back. Daniel dug his fists into the ground, tugging out strands of grass with a yell. The pain in his chest burned into tears and he closed his eyes, drowning himself in his loss. His head felt heavy with what remained of the alcohol in the system and his tears. A soft breeze rustled gently.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

A soft hand brushed his cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“My sweet.”

Daniel shook his head, “No, go away.”

“Daniel, my sweet. It’s okay, I’m here.”

He wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath as he saw her again. “Mari.”

“Come on, let’s get you up.” Marigold reached out her hands to pull him up to his feet. She dusted off his shoulders and smiled. “There. Much better. Come on.”

Daniel sniffled, his eyes focused on Marigold in some state of confusion and surprise. Her arm was wrapped around Daniel’s as she guided him inside the house. He lifted his finger to touch her cheek. Marigold giggled softly, “What are you doing?”

“Where are we going?” his voice cracked.

“I haven’t seen Apollo and Venus in so long,” Marigold smiled, looking up at Daniel. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Daniel moved at a slow pace, trotting beside Marigold on her horse. Marigold looked around at the green fields ahead of them, a glow in her eyes. He watched how her hair moved in the wind, her blonde curls flowing. The sun reflected on her face, and Daniel smiled. Her face was full of colour, no longer pale, no longer lifeless. For once she seemed at ease and Daniel had forgotten what that felt like.

Marigold slowed down to a stop and for the first time Daniel turned his head away from her. He gasped softly, instantly recognizing their surroundings, their spot. He followed her movements as she climbed off her horse and sat down at the spot where he would normally park the truck. Marigold shifted closer to Daniel, if it was even possible, and placed her head on his shoulder.

Daniel held her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Marigold sighed, “No matter how many times we come here, the view still takes my breath away. It’s beautiful.”

Daniel hummed in agreement but his focus seemed to lie on staying as close to her as possible.

“You haven’t been singing much lately, my sweet,” she remarked.

“I know,” Daniel mumbled. His voice trembled and he took a moment to breathe. “It’s hard.”

Marigold smiled softly and caressed his cheek. “Could you sing something for me?”

Daniel nodded. His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper. “A h-heart on the run.” He gulped. His eyes connected with hers and he sighed shakily. “Keeps a hand on the gun. You can’t trust anyone. I was so su-s”

Daniel’s head bowed down and he wiped his eyes, “I-I’m so-sorry-”

Marigold shook her head, cupping his cheeks. She wiped his tears away and smiled softly. “I was so sure. What I needed was more, tried to shoot out the sun,” she sang.

Daniel lifted his eyes to hers, his frown breaking into a shaky smile. “The days when we raged, we flew off the page. Such damage was done,” he joined in unison.

Marigold stood up on her feet, reaching out her hand. Daniel stood up, his hand in hers as she pulled him closer. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and Daniel held her waist, sucking in his breath. “But I made it through, 'cause somebody knew I was meant for someone.”

They swayed gently from side to side. Daniel cried quietly, pulling her closer until there was barely space between them, his forehead against hers. They shared the kisses that had been stolen from them, singing the unfinished lyrics of their song with their lips just a touch apart. A setting sun cast a dreamy light over the couple. Daniel’s singing was consumed by his tears and he buried his head in between her neck and shoulder. He held her tighter, his tears staining her beautiful dress.  

“So cover me up and know you're enough.” Marigold rubbed her hands soothingly over his back and kissed his shoulder. “To use me for good.”

Marigold moved her hands to his chest. Daniel didn’t move, wanting to be in her arms. “My sweet, it’s getting dark. We should get home.”

Daniel pulled away reluctantly, holding her hand as they walked back to Apollo and Venus. Marigold waited by his side as he climbed his horse. She placed her hand on his knee and they leaned closer, their lips meeting each other halfway. Daniel nearly wished he couldn’t breathe when he pulled away for a breath. Marigold pecked his lips again before climbing her horse.

She travelled forward, Daniel following behind. Marigold sped up, urging her horse to gallop faster. Daniel frowned and tried to catch up with her.

“Sunshine,” he was an arm’s reach away.

“My sweet,” Marigold turned back to him with a smile, but it wasn’t the same. There was some underlying loss in her smile and it made Daniel’s heart drop to his stomach. “It’s time to go.”

“Sunshin-” he hurried Venus to run faster. “Sunshine! Marigold, wait!”

And we run

And we run

And we run

Daniel struggled, panting. The wind blew harshly in his face as Marigold moved faster, turning into a blur. Marigold faded farther and farther away until she disappeared. He cried out for her, his voice dying out into violent sobs. “Mari-stop!”.

Venus turned to mist from beneath him and Daniel fell to his knees. He pulled himself up, ignoring the ache in his legs and he broke into a sprint.

He felt himself fade the faster he ran, hearing a voice call out for him, but it wasn’t hers. The distance he covered never seemed enough as the fields ran endlessly in front of him. His legs gave out under him and he fell, head first into the grass.

Until we break through

Daniel’s eyes opened and he turned over with a groan, feeling someone shake his shoulder. “Dad, dad!”

He sat up in a sudden movement, startling Lennox. Daniel pulled himself to his feet, marching past Lennox to the stables.

“Dad, what happened? Where are you going?” Lennox followed him, his school bag bouncing on his bag as he kept up with his father. Daniel entered the stables, his shoulders falling as he found the horses well kept in their pens.  

“Dad?”  Lennox walked up to his side and held his arm, looking up at a distraught Daniel. He looked down at Lennox and brushed his hand over his head. Daniel pulled Lennox close, hugging him tight. Lennox welcomed the hug, unknowing of the inner turmoil in Daniel’s heart. He could still feel her in their own shining star, little remnants of sunshine and beautiful blooming flowers.

“Let’s go inside, Spud,” he whispered.

Lennox pulled away with a smile and jogged back into the house. Daniel watched him go before he turned back to the stable. He looked past the open entryway where the green fields stretched out to the horizon, meeting the sky.

And we run

And we run

And we run

------------------

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee​ @bessonbae @hiya-its-amber​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @the-girl-who-cried-wolf​

#Daniel seavey #Daniel seavey imagines #seasons change

[sokkas-honour]

3 with sokka for your spotify wrapped playlist writing thingy? Also hii hehe i just found your blog 5 seconds ago NICE TO MEET YOUUU

it’s lovely to meet you too! (i prepared these a while ago but tysm for being so supportive of my blog!!)

affluenza - sokka x reader

pairing: sokka x fem!reader (it’s more platonic than anything)

wc: 2.7k

notes/warnings: again, i’m only really using the theme of this song instead of the lyrics. for warning, misogyny?? a bit of neglect

-

growing up a princess was already hard to begin with, but being the younger sister to the nation’s favourite royal was even worse. constantly being in her shadow, being ignored by parents and just being blindly spoiled. you were lucky, you could get whatever you wanted except for your parent’s own attention and affection.

ever since you turned the age of ten, you were quick to notice that you weren’t your parent’s favorite so you would try and do whatever you could to be the star in their eyes. you trained everyday in order to improve your water bending, your warrior skills, just anything that could make you stand out and get your parents to notice you more. but alas, you weren’t the crown princess, the most beautiful girl in the northern water tribe.

it came to a point where, around your fifteenth birthday, you were starting to loose motivation for things in general. all of your work had payed off, you had mastered every healing form and had even gotten secret lessons from local boys trying to use you to get to yue, you had everything you could want except for the one thing you desperately needed. so you started isolating yourself a bit more, the rest of the nation forgetting about you even more.

your isolation changed when you heard of the avatar having arrived in your tribe and suddenly, you desperately wanted to get to know them. if you befriended the avatar and even joined him on his voyage, you might just finally get your parent’s stamp of approval. it was the first thing in months to give you any sort of motivation.

during the dinner that your dad threw for the guests and to honour your sister’s birthday, you had managed to find a spot next to the southern watertribe girl and you two hit it off immediately. bonding over shared experiences as younger siblings.

“yeah it does hurt a bit to have practically mastered all your water bending forms and not get a congratulations from your parents.” was your comment as the two of you spoke about sometimes feeing as thought you’re living in your older sibling’s shadow. what you said seemed to have done something to the girl who’s name you learned was katara.

“you’re a waterbender?” she asked bewildered. her eyes looking at you with excitement and wonder.

“yeah, one of the best in the tribe if i do say so myself.” you joked lightly, a bit confused at her tone.

“i’m a waterbender too! do you think you could teach me a few things?” she excitedly asked, a huge grin on her face. you nodded and finished swallowing your pickled fish that had been prepared by the best chefs in town.

“i mean sure but i’m not sure what i could teach you. i’m basically a master but i wouldn’t say that i’m too far ahead from other people my age.” you responded, explaining to the girl from your sister tribe that you may not be able to teach her much.

“oh, where i come from, i’m the last waterbender. so i’ve never had any actual training.” her gaze averted from yours and you instantly regretted what you said, feeling horrible at your assumption. you were used to being surrounded by waterbenders and had no idea what she must’ve been going through.

“i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. if you need anyone to show you some water bending forms, i’m more than happy to. but i’m sure you’ll get more from master yagoda.” you searched for her hand and gave it a little squeeze, she turned her head to smile at you which you returned a comforting one back.

“why not master paku?” she inquired, slightly confused at not hearing the name of the respected master she had heard about at one point during the dinner.

“master paku teaches warrior waterbending skills, girls aren’t allowed to learn those techniques, only healing.” you explained, gaze faltering slightly. you hated your tribe’s costume which is why you always tried to rebel in your own way, but she didn’t need to know that yet.

“why? that’s stupid!” she exclaimed, removing her hand from yours to hit her closed fists on the table in annoyance, thankfully not drawing any attention.

“i know! but it’s tradition and the old farts who control this town hate breaking tradition, even my father won’t break it for me!” you explained, giving a small glance to your father who spoke to one of his councilmen.

“maybe he’ll change his mind if i’m with the avatar! we might even convince him to train you!” she suggested, optimism laced in her words but you simply shrugged your shoulders.

“you can try but i wouldn’t get your hopes up. if you do though, make sure to come get me.” you blankly responded, not wanting to give her any false sense of joy.

the rest of the dinner went by nicely, her telling stories about her adventure with the avatar and her brother, who’s name you learned to be sokka. he even inserted himself in the conversation once or twice, making you laugh at his comments. the night had to end eventually, and for yue and yourself, it meant you two have to leave before the party ended.

“y/n, i think i may have a problem.” yue nervously started when you were both alone. “that southern water tribe boy, he.”

“he’s hilarious?” you finished her sentence, a knowing smile on your lips.

“yeah, and i’m scared i might be catching feelings for him. he even suggested to do something together.” she explained, hand grabbing yours nervously, looking to you for advice on what she should do. no matter how much your parents favoured yue on every way, there was so way you could ever hate her or hold your parents’ doings against her.

“oh come on yue, talking to him won’t hurt you. if anything, not talking to him will hurt him.” you joked, placing your hand on top of hers to give more weight to your words.

“i suppose so.” she smiled, most likely thinking about him and the way he made her feel. your smirk never left your face as you watched the way he made her feel.

the next day, you ran into katara and aang as they went to visit master paku to try and convince him to train the both of them. you were going on a simple walk, hoping to run into them.

“y/n, want to come with us to master paku?” katara immediately asked once you were in proximity to the tow of them.

“not sure you’ll be able to convince them but i’d love to either way.” you smiled, waving hello to the avatar.

“well we’re going to try.” aang backed up katara’s optimism which was slightly sad to see as you knew the ending, you had experienced it yourself.

and like you predicted, their attempt to get the old master to go against outdated traditions proved useless. it ended in katara yelling at his misogynistic attitude and giving up to go sit in on a healing session. you decided to join her, knowing it was useless to you but it was nice to a get a refresher nonetheless.

once it ended, you were left to deal with an annoyed katara as aang was still training. you admired her for standing up to him, wishing you had the confidence that she had but you had given up fighting traditions a long time ago when you realised it was useless.

“listen, i’m sorry katara. if you want though, i can show you around town.” you tried to cheer her up but she seemed to agree with no enthusiasm.

during your tour, you made sure to give as many details as you could to the girl from your sister tribe but it didn’t do much to make her smile. her attitude did change though when the both of you ran into her older brother, a lovestruck emotion on his face which immediately led you to conclude he had seen your sister, and you were right.

“we’re meeting tonight at the same bridge we saw each other! yue and i!” was the first he said when he approached the two of you, more directed to his sister.

“really sokka? that’s great!” katara’s mood seemed to change to happiness for her brother. she then turned to you, surprisingly. “you know, maybe yue said something to y/n. did she?”

“why would yue tell her something?” sokka stopped you from answering, taking you slightly aback. his rather none accusing question hurt you more than you’d care to admit.

“i beg your pardon?” you were slightly offended at his question, more hurt but that wasn’t the tone that you wanted to show, knowing that showing hurt was more of a weakness than anything. at least in your household, your parents only seemed to notice your negative attitude when it came out. a comment made by a schoolmate hurt you and when you came home crying, you were simply neglected as yue had come home earlier and your parents were engrossed in her story. you had tried to come to them but were simply ignored. since then, you’ve only ever shown emotions theyd deem negative to your sister.

“sokka, you met her last night. she’s the second princess of the northern water tribe!” katara harshly whispered as you calmed yourself down, making a mental note to thank your new friend.

“yue has a sister? what did she say about me?” his confusion turned to excitement as he practically rushed into your face, too close for your liking.

“yes, and what do you think you’ll get out of me?” you smirked slightly, putting your hand on his chest to push him out of your face.

“i don’t know, what does a princess need?” he questioned. letting your hand linger before you dropped it.

“warrior training.” katara observed as you narrowed your eyes, the smirk still on your lips as you surprised the rather bold boy.

“why would you need warrior training?”

“because, i want to. my father refuses to let me train but i’ve found ways. yue told me you’re supposedly the best warrior in your village and i want some.” you defied his expectations, he assumed you’d probably be drastically different from your sister in a bad way but he was wrong.

“deal, you tell me what yue thinks of me and i’ll teach you a couple of things i know.” he was quick to agree, willing to do anything to know what the crown princess thought of him. you took your hand out to shake on it and he did, both of you looking each other in the eyes in defiance, hands lingering in each other’s grip.

katara giggled at the interaction which brought the two of you out of your stare and let go of each other’s hands.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully yue will tell me more after your little rendezvous today.” you told him before turning your attention back to katara, seeing as though she was with her brother now, she’d be fine on her own. “i’ll see you tomorrow around the healing hut early tomorrow?”

she nodded before you waved the two of them goodbye and walked back towards the palace, looking forward to your first session with sokka.

the next day was pretty eventful, finding out that katara and aang had gone against paku’s rules, meaning that he refused to continue raining the avatar. you found out right before leaving for the session with yagoda and decided to stick around when katara defied him. and by the end of that whole fiasco, she was able to convince him to let her train with him.

after that happened, you immediately went to your father to beg him to let you join paku’s clas but you were met with a wall.

“absolutely not, the times may be changing but i’d rather none of my daughters do anything too dangerous. you still need to finish mastering healing.” was his response, leaving you in complete disbelief. you had mastered every healing form a couple of months ago and he didn’t know.

yue tried to comfort you but you ignored him, deciding to walk around town to calm down. you knew that if yue was the waterbender, she’d be able to do whatever she wanted. even if she was their fragile little girl.

the day went by rather fast, and before you knew it, you were following katara in secret to watch the first ever girl receive training from a master in the northern water tribe. you made sure to not make your presence too noticeable, even if the majority of people didn’t notice you most of the time. you watched in complete awe of her raw skill, wishing that you were right there next to her, having something to make you stand out from your family.

when the afternoon came, you made your way to where the three of them was staying in order to complete your deal with sokka.

“hey y/n, did you find out anything about yue?” was his greeting which earns a little eye roll from you.

“didn’t she tell you that she was engaged?” you said rather harshly, regretting as you saw him look down sadly. “listen sokka, she can’t love you but she does. she’s tied to our ridiculous customs, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he took a deep breath in and let it go before meeting your eyes that were soft, matching them with a small smile. “ready to get started?”

“more than ready. my stupid father didn’t want me joining katara today so i need to let out some sort of aggression.” your tone clearly annoyed at your father which confused sokka, yue didn’t seem to have any problems with her parents.

“i don’t know if this is my place to ask, but why do you seem to hate your father so much?” he asked, curious to know.

“this is nothing against my sister, i love her to bits. it’s my parents i have problems with, they just cast me aside. all of their attention has always been on yue, hell everyone in this stupid tribe only cares about yue! i’m supposed to just be unnoticeable according to my parents yet they shame me for not being as special as yue! i mastered every single healing form and i even managed to learn a couple of fighting stances, yet it’s still not enough.” you let yourself go, deciding to dump all of your problems on the poor boy who had to hear your practically yell at the end. “sorry, you probably didn’t want to know all of that.” you joked nervously.

“no, no its okay. i just figured that being yue’s sister would be like the best thing. i mean being royalty makes your life basically perfect and i mean, she’s one of the sweetest girls i’ve ever met!” sokka ranted, not exactly being what you wanted to hear.

“yeah, i have everything i could ever want but my parent’s attention.” you laughed in disbelief at how ridiculous your situation was.

“you know what?” a silence had settle after your uncomfortable laugh but he was the first to speak, excitement in his voice as he voiced the idea in his head. “what if you joined us to defeat the firelord and travel with the avatar? that’s sure to get your parents to notice!”

“you barely know me and i haven’t actually spoken with the avatar, what makes you think that i’d fit your little team?” you were skeptic at his proposition, loving the idea but not being sure he was thinking it through.

“from what katara’s told me, you’d be perfect for us! katara could teach you what she learns with paku on the road, i could teach you what i know and you could be our own healer!” he excitedly thought about the idea of having someone else on his team, even if you weren’t the sibling he fell for, he still took a liking to you after your first conversation.

“well then, come fetch me before you leave. my parents won’t notice me gone so there won’t be any problems.” you concluded, you yourself getting excited at the idea of finally doing something that might make you stand out to your parents.

“great! now let’s get started.” he opened the door, a huge smile on his face.

“if you were at all interested, she thought you were a pretty good kisser.” you added before he could start teaching you any of his skills.

general taglist: @butterfly-skinnylegend @biqherosix

atla taglist: @missmorosis @draqondance @firelady-jay @welovediaaxx @sunnypluto

#atla x reader #sokka x reader #sokka of the southern water tribe #atla sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #sokka x yue #aang x reader #katara x reader #atla sokka imagine #sokka imagine #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender x reader #gaang x reader #gaang imagine #sokka

[bougredane]

Rumble in the opposite of a Jungle

The Junot-Lanusse duel. From « Le Général Junot en Égypte » by Dubief. My translation after the French.

Au sein de l'armée se trouvait un noyau de frondeurs qui grondaient contre Bonaparte. Kléber, Murat et Lanusse étaient les plus enragés. Junot, lui, au contraire, demeurait fidèle à son chef et lui gardait une entière confiance. Il souffrait beaucoup de ces dissensions, mais restait neutre.

Pourtant, il était un général qu'il ne supportait pas, et qui le lui rendait bien : c'était Lanusse. Celui-ci montrait un caractère très dur, parfois jusqu'à la férocité ce qui ne pouvait qu'irriter Junot.

Tout le quartier-général subissait les éclats de cette vive haine. Alors, Murat, dans une bonne intention, comme cela lui arrivait parfois, invita les deux antagonistes à un dîner de réconciliation avec d'autres officiers, dont Bessières et Lannes. Le repas se déroula dans une atmosphère plutôt détendue. Puis ils entamèrent une partie de bouillotte. Malheureusement, la conversation, qui jusqu'à présent était restée dans une vague neutralité, aborda le délicat sujet de la situation de l'armée sur les terres d'Égypte. Bessières, prudent, prêchait la patience.

Mais, l'impétueux Lanusse, ne laissa pas passer l'occasion de critiquer vivement et en termes crus la politique menée par Bonaparte. Junot, muet, sentait la colère battre à ses tempes. Lanusse, l'observant, lui demanda alors brusquement : 

- Junot, prête-moi dix louis : je suis décavé ! - Je n'ai pas d'argent devant moi. Et il jouait du bout des doigts avec une pile de pièces d'or. - Comment dois-je prendre ta réponse ! - Comme il te plaira. - Je t'ai demandé si tu voulais me prêter dix louis de l'argent que tu as devant toi. - Et moi, je te réponds que j'ai bien de l'argent devant moi mais qu'il n'y en a pas pour un traître comme toi. - Il n'y a qu'un … qui puisse se servir d'un pareil mot.

Les chaises renversées, tout le monde se leva. Brouhaha, bousculades, on s'interposa, le silence revint et Junot reprit :

- Ecoute, Lanusse, je t'ai dit que tu étais un traître je n'en crois rien. Tu m'as dit que j'étais un …, tu n'en crois rien non plus, car nous sommes tous deux de braves gens. Mais, vois-tu, il faut que nous nous battions. Il faut que l'un de nous y reste. Je te hais parce que tu hais l'homme que j'aime et que j'admire à l'égal de Dieu même, si ce n'est plus. Battons-nous et tout de suite. Je jure de ne me coucher ce soir qu'après avoir vidé cette affaire.

Le duel, bien qu'il fut en honneur à l'armée, avait été strictement interdit par Bonaparte. Il fallait donc se cacher. Rien de plus facile: le jardin de Murat s'étendait jusqu'au bord du Nil. Neuf heures du soir. On alluma des torches.

- Quelle arme prendrons-nous ? demanda Junot. - Belle question, le pistolet !  » répondit Lanusse.

Tous les officiers pâlirent, l'adresse de Junot au pistolet était pourtant célèbre: il transperçait, à vingt-cinq pas, un as en plein milieu.

- Je ne me battrai pas au pistolet avec toi, répondit-il, tu ne sais pas tirer. Tu ne mettrais pas dans une porte cochère. La partie doit être égale entre nous. Nous avons nos sabres. Marchons.

Ils descendirent vers le fleuve, à la lueur tremblante des torches. Bessières s'approcha de Junot et lui murmura à l'oreille : Tu as fait une sottise ! Lanusse est très fort à l'espadon !.

Et Murat, oubliant l'objet de ce repas, de dire : Songe donc que lorsqu'on se bat c'est au fait pour tuer son homme ! 

Quant à Lanusse, il ne cessait d'outrager le nom du général en chef, si bien que Junot lui cria : On dirait que tu veux te monter la tête !.

 - [LANNES à LANUSSE] Tais– toi. C'est fini, que diable ! Vous allez vous couper la gorge, qu'est-ce que tu veux de plus ? Tout ce que tu lui diras à présent, c'est du luxe ! « .

L'inondation du Nil avait rendu le terrain inégal : mauvaises conditions pour un duel.

- Si c'était de jour encore ! s'écria Murat, mais vous ne pouvez vous battre là ! - Allons donc ! répliqua Junot. C'est un enfantillage !

Ils jetèrent leurs habits, tirèrent leurs sabres.

A quelques pas, attentifs, les témoins discutaient des chances des adversaires. Junot attaqua et d'un coup trancha le haut du chapeau de Lanusse, le bouton d'uniforme qui attachait la ganse. Sans ce providentiel chapeau, Lanusse qui a senti sur sa joue le froid de la lame, serait mort, prompt à la riposte et profitant de l'instant où Junot s'était découvert, il lui porta un coup de revers qui lui fendit le ventre. Junot tomba. Ses camarades se saisirent de lui et le transportèrent dans la salle à manger, parmi les bouteilles, les cartes à jouer, les pièces d'or. 

Quand Bonaparte apprit la nouvelle, il entra dans une vive colère : 

- Quoi ? ils vont s'égorger entre eux ! disait-il à Desgenettes. N'ont-ils pas assez des Arabes, de la peste et des Mamelucks ! Ce Junot, il mériterait les arrêts pendant un mois !

Et, tandis que Junot se morfondait au lit, attendant que sa plaie se cicatrisât (longue de huit pouces !) Bonaparte refusait d'aller le visiter, tout en avouant :

- Mon pauvre Junot, blessé pour moi ! Aussi l'imbécile, pourquoi ne s'est-il pas battu au pistolet ?

--------

At the heart of the Army was a pit of rebels who railed constantly against Bonaparte. Kléber, Murat, and Lanusse were the most fervent. On the contrary, Junot, for his part, remained loyal to his commander, and maintained the most perfect faith in him. He tolerated the grumbles, but remained neutral. 

That being said, there was one general up with whom he could no longer put  ???  he really couldn’t stand, and who returned the sentiment : Lanusse. Lanusse had a firm character, to the point of cruel ferocity, which could do nothing but irritate Junot.

The general staff indulged his outbursts of insistent hatred. And so Murat - in one of his well-intentioned gestures - invited the two antagonists to a conciliatory dinner with some of the other officers, among them Bessières and Lannes. The meal passed more or less calmly, but then moved on to a game of cards, at which point the conversation - nice enough up to now - broached the delicate subject of the army’s presence in Egypt. Bessières, prudently, suggested a certain patience. But Lanusse, impetuous as he was, wouldn’t leave the opportunity to critique Bonaparte’s politics, and in no uncertain terms. Junot, mute before him, could feel rage throbbing at his temples. Lanusse, seeing him, demanded brusquely :

- Junot, lend me 10 Louis : I’m fresh out ! - I haven’t got any money, he replied, running the tips of his fingers over a pile of gold coins.  - And how should I take your response ?  - However you like. - I asked if you might lend me 10 Louis from that pile you’ve got there. - And I’ll tell you that I have got some money before me, but not for a traitor like you. - Nobody but a *#$%@ would use a word like that. 

Chairs were overturned, everybody was on their feet. Mayhem, a sort fo free-for-all, and then someone came between them. Calm returned and then Junot was back at it. 

- Listen, Lanusse, I told you you were a traitor, and I don’t believe it. And you called me a *#$%@ … and you don’t really mean that either ; we’re both brave fellows. But, don’t you see, we have to fight. Only one of us can remain standing. I hate you because you hate the man I love and admire as much as God himself, if not more. Let’s get to it, then. I swear not to go to bed tonight until I’ve dealt with this affair, one way or another. 

The duel - as a practice - had been forbidden by Bonaparte (even in the good name of the Army). They would have to go about it in secret. Nothing could be easier - Murat’s garden backed up to the Nile. Nine in the evening. They lit the lanterns. 

- The weapon ? asked Junot.  - Good question. Pistols ! answered Lanusse. 

The assembled officers paled - Junot was famously good with a pistol, a crack-shot ; he could hit an ace in the middle of the card at 25 paces. 

- I won’t fight with pistols against you, he countered, you don’t know how to shoot. Don’t get yourself into something you can only regret. It’s got to be equal between us. We have our sabres. Now march. 

They made their way down to the river, in the quivering light of the torches. Bessières came up to Junot and whispered in his ear : You’re making a mistake! Lanusse is devilishly good with a blade !

And Murat, forgetting the point of the dinner, added : Remember that, when you fight, it’s to put an end to your man ! 

As for Lanusse, he never ceased to spit on the name of Bonaparte, to the point that Junot cried,

- Now you’re just getting worked up ! - [LANNES to LANUSSE] Shut up. It’s over, by God ! You’re already going to slit each others’ throats, what more do you want ? Anything more you have to say to him is just thrown away.

The flooding of the Nile had made the terrain irregular underfoot : poor conditions for a duel. 

- If there were still some daylight, cried Murat, but you can’t fight here ! - Come on ! replied Junot, this is childishness !

They took off their coats, drew their swords.

A few paces back, apprehensive, the seconds discussed the chances of the two adversaries. Junot attacked, landing a blow to the top of Lanusse’s hat, cutting the button which attached the braid. Without this God-sent hat, Lanusse - who had felt the cold of steel across his cheek - would be dead, but as it was, he was quick to riposte, and taking advantage of the moment which had left Junot unguarded, he countered with a back-cut that slit open his opponent’s abdomen. Junot fell. His comrades gathered him up and brought him into the dining room, among the bottles, the playing cards, and the gold coins. 

When Bonaparte heard the news, he flew into a rage : 

- What ?? Are they really going to gut each other ? he asked Desgenettes, Haven’t they had enough of the Arabs, the plague, and the Mameluks ? This Junot deserves to be put away for a month !

And while Junot, bored and confined to his bed, waited for the wound to heal (eight inches long !) Bonaparte refused to visit him, even as he confessed :

- My poor Junot, hurt like this for me ! Also, what an idiot, why would he refuse the pistols ?

#junot #lanusse #napoleon #murat #bessières #jean lannes #campagne d'égypte #duel

[infinites-chaser]

all the lights that lead us there (are blinding)

| mlqc | shaw |

vague spoilers for ch.20+ content

he can't stay still. not really. his mind's always crackling with something some staticky noise that won't ever go— he tries to ignore it, lose himself in his music, his graffiti, his boarding, the play of electricity across his fingers late at night.

It starts like this: he's on the 330 bus at a hellishly early hour, listening to oasis's wonderwall (though he'll never admit it), the volume on his mp3 player turned up as loud as it can possibly go. just him, liam gallagher crooning in his ears, skateboard under his arm, the bass and drums thrumming through his veins like thunder.

correction: it's just him, the quaking wheels of the bus, and the girl who just got on— she's petite, delicate-looking, the kind of person he guesses is into pastels and flowers and gives people like him judgemental stares when they don't think he's looking. but when he stares at her, she stares back and for a second, it almost looks like the world could begin or end in her wide brown eyes. and maybe he wants it to.

(somehow, she seems familiar.)

he looks away first. static crackles around maybe you're gonna be the one who saves me.

and it's stupid but— 

he's on the same bus every day. maybe he looks for her whenever he gets on. maybe he never sees her.

he cycles through the rest of what's the story morning glory. stops listening to oasis. vows to go back to something his bandmates wouldn't laugh at him for.

he's waiting for the bus again, same route, same time, same driver, blasting green day as loud as it'll go.

he closes his eyes. leans his head back against the sun-flecked window, cradles his skateboard close.

the bus rattles, coughs exhaust, then jerks to a stop. the doors woosh open, woosh shut.

footsteps tap light on the linoleum floor, come to a stop close to him. he doesn't move. then static fizzles and pops loud in his ears, billie joe armstrong's voice stutters, jarring, discordant, wrong

he opens his eyes, and it's her.

her and her wide eyes.

the bus jolts, his skateboard slides, and he catches it before too much damage can be done, but she levels that stare at him, bleeding-hearted dreamer's stare, looking like she wants to save the world, bring all the sinners to justice, his skateboard too, and for a moment he forgets himself.

he makes it rain for her.

gives her the umbrella on a whim.

maybe he wants her to save the world,

maybe he wants her she to save him,

he thinks she could. he thinks she will.

she does.

only, she's as self-sacrificing as he's selfish: didn't think you were a saint, he thinks to himself, the world ending, starting anew around him, time loops bending, universes shifting, floating in and out of focus.

he closes his eyes against every universe's, every timeline's final scene: her body limp as a rag doll's, her blood spreading dark and heavy across the war torn warehouse floor.

didn't think you were a hero, either.

the world's wrong, after. he thinks (stupidly, irrationally, immature, caring in a way he hasn't been in a long, long time) that he should've done more— all he's done is give her an umbrella. for rain and a storm he'd caused. it should've been him, at the end of it all.

though in a world where he's certain he's the only one who remembers her, he isn't really sure if she remembers him.

she doesn’t quite. then she does.

didn't think you looked a hero, he says, one late night over STF documents. her hands stiffen around her pen, her eyes narrow, glitter hard and bright to match it.

what do I look like, then, she asks, voice too-soft, too-calm

he falters. they have a balance, normally. he pushes. she pushes back. this time, he knows: he's gone too far.

what do I look like, she repeats, and her voice is still hard, her eyes still glittering, but there's an undercurrent to the ice, something thinning it, making her hardness fragile,

a savior, he says, near instinctively, and pretends not to notice when she nods, looks back down at her pen, and a tear slides down her cheek, splatters dark against the paper's white.

they come together, in fits and starts:

a warning text she ignores.

an insult. then another.

then, slowly, finally. an uneasy partnership.

it starts like this:

he takes her hand, pulls her onto the stage with him. it's hard to tell with the club's flickering lights. but he thinks she's blushing. it's cute. he's not afraid to admit it. he tries to tell her as much, but it's lost between the pounding of the speakers and the roar of the crowd. he settles for another devil-may-care smile.

what's your favorite song?

what?

I said, your favorite song!

you told me you'd tell me information. important information! that's why I came!

your favorite song, he repeats for a third time, even louder. maybe it'd be annoying if it were anyone else, but he'll say it again: she's cute with that pout. 

then, hastily, as her pout deepens:

it's important information! in exchange, you'll learn how good my band is.

she snorts.

play anything, she says, and he finds his fingers straying over the strings of his bass to pluck out the opening notes of wonderwall. he doesn't dare look up to watch her expression 'til the chorus hits.

she sings along.

she looks happy. wistful happy. and maybe her smile's a little sad, and there's a glisten in her eyes when they lift to meet his, but the smile's for him, the way her gaze lingers is proof, and he'll take any smile he can get from her, no matter how sad.

oasis, huh, he says after. I knew it. your taste in music sucks.

she scoffs and reaches a hand up to knuckle his sweaty forehead, hard. he lets her. he'll take this, too.

later, he stretches a hand out, catches a raindrop, surveys it, then shrugs, half to himself. sure, it's cool to roll up to people like yeah I can cause storms (not to mention it's a hell of a handy evol in a fight) but maybe he's being stupid because when he sees her sad smile he wishes his evol could clear the clouds and bring her sunshine back instead.

he does the next best thing: he teases her. and maybe it makes her huff and pout more times than not, but it makes him happier which is really half the battle. and he's sure that behind some of those scoffs are smiles.

between their trading of barbs (always dry, quippy, light, never meant to hurt) she just goes quiet. he doesn't like quiet. he's not used to it, and from the look in her eyes when she gets that way, he can tell she doesn't like it either.

you can talk about it, you know, he says one time, and she freezes, blank stare instantly shifting to a deer-in-headlights look, then annoyance. 

talk about what?

(atta girl, he thinks. sure it's defensive, but nothing scares him more than when she's just— nothing. lifeless. trapped in the past of a time worlds away.)

he scoffs. 

your terrible taste in music? i meant— before

(and they both know what 'before' is without him having to say it aloud, saying it feels like it'd make it all the more real, it'd be wrong)

her eyes are wide again.

before? she says, and he feels it stretching between them, that distance, the void, the reminder that she and him, they don't have a before, only a now, maybe an after.

we need to talk about your taste in music, too, though. urgently, he adds quickly, musters a grin. waits for the scoff, the eye roll to come.

it doesn't. instead, she reaches up to ruffle his hair with a cheeky smile before he can react.

you're a good boy, after all, aren't you, hm?

he scowls. he goes to grab her hand, wind her fingers through his, but realizes what he's about to do seconds before his fingers brush hers— he changes trajectory, attends to his mussed hair. (there's an art to the rebel hairdo. clearly she doesn't know it.)

and he would retort, but she's still looking at him, and her smile's gone all soft, not in a sad way, but in a way that just. does things to his heart,

so when she says 'thank you,' all he can say back is 'you're welcome,' and if he sounds more sincere than he's ever before, she doesn't notice, but he is.

he's not sure when their relationship—  reluctant alliance, friendship, more shifts, but it does, it evolves, it jumps— two steps forward, sparks fly, and they're back in the same place as before. same, he says, as if lightning could ever strike the same spot twice (he knows it does, he's not stupid, not like she is, eyes so bleeding heart wide they could swallow the world in her idealism, her kindness, they could and they will, after all, they've already swallowed him, remade him whole).

his days are filled with her, his nights, too. all the restless hours the clock strikes and neither of them wants to be alone,

bus rides at strange hours and electric eye contact across a crowded club after dark (he's tuning his guitar, about to take the stage, she's sitting alone at the end of the bar, two shots away from drunk) neon lights and drive-throughs before the dawn for hangover fast food, a tired employee's voice crackling through the speaker as he tries to give the order of the whole minivan— most nights it's him and the rest of his band, but once it's just him and her, sunrise after a sleepless night at the top of an empty parking garage, he gives her a can of spray paint and pretends to drive away while she runs after the banged-up van and tries to tag him, the studio and snacks and out-of-character honesty after waking up from nightmares

(it catches him by surprise, even as her brows curve up in surprise, too. the you can stay as long as you want, even though what he means is you can stay forever.)

she's sprawled clumsy across the faded cushions of his couch, halfway to dreamland, when he catches himself reaching to brush the hair from her eyes, thumb tracing tender over the edge of her cheek.

she murmurs something under his touch, soft, indistinct, and his heart's responding murmurs give his voice to a near-unconscious reply,

maybe, he whispers, you're gonna be the one who saves me,

he's about to leave her be when her finger catches round his pinky, holds his hand close,

save me? you already have, she says, 

shut up, he says back, you're drunk.

her eyes blink open, spark bright when they lift to meet his and he's falling, he's already gone, about to make another mistake to add to the many or the one right choice in his life

not drunk, she mutters, and her eyes shutter closed.

he swallows.

I know, he replies. her brow furrows.

he waits a second, a second longer, but her eyes stay closed this time. her breathing evens in the silence. the worry smooths out from between her eyes. she looks peaceful for once,

for once, he could almost imagine her happy. imagine them happy. the thought gives him courage again, to linger at her side. to lean in. to press his lips to the back of her hand.

makes it a promise, an oath sworn by someone who'd never once wanted to be loyal to anyone but himself,

someone who'd decided that there's someone he's willing to follow.

someone he wants to have. to hold.

(all the world's adventures and he wants to be hers.)

#me: i am takinf a break from mlqc #also me: turns on wonderwall. sHAW BRAIN GO BRR #mlqc #mlqc shaw #val writes #this is so non linear and i have graduated to the postmodern school of no quotation marks we die in italics #the truth is it's like this. bc i started last summer and gave up but. today was a shaw day and i said screw it ITS getting. finished. #bUT IT IS intended to be. VIBES. and vibes only #the vibe here is. shaw being a soft bastard who listens to wonderwall that's it #this is not coherent and neither am i but. #here we are anyway

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ A BABY IS COMING ❜

Headcanon

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: I LOVE THE BABY ON BOARD WITH GILLY SO MUCH I WAS WONDERING IF I CAN REUQEST THE SAME HEADCANNON BUT WITH CREEPER??!!

BY @imanerdychubbyqueen

Warnings: appearance of a LGTBI character (I don't think that this needs a warning, but if you think that I need to warn it because bothers you the appearance of a LGTBI character, please, unfollow me, thank you). 🏳️‍🌈❤✨

Word count: about 1.4k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on google.

Masterlist.

Whilst Bishop, Tranq, Taza and Riz were extremely Happy knowing that Creeper and you were expecting a baby, the guys just made jokes.

“Man, you are a fuckin child, how is supposed that you're gonna take care of a baby?”

“Did she really let you get her pregnant? Or was it a ball to the goal?”

“'Am sure cops are gonna stop you, if they see you with a baby, carnal. They will think you stole it or somethen'”.

Creeper didn't care about their opinion, but about yours.

“What do you think, ah?”

You were three months pregnant, and you were pretty excited and stressed at the same time, choosing some names, even if you didn't know yet if it was going to be a girl or a boy.

“Sorre, mama, I wasn't listening”.

“Something bothering you, papi?”

“Nah, you know… just the guys being fucking assholes”.

“Neron, you're gonna be the best dad ever and I don' need to tell you why. I just know it. You trust me, rai'?”

The gender reveal was simply amazing.

All the charters came. Your husband was erratic placing his motorbike in front of all, because the answer was inside the exhaust pipe. It was enough to start the engine and hit the gas. And he did. A blue smoke flooded the yard, between loud cheerings, hugs and kisses. Leaving away his motorcycle, Creeper ran to you, lifting you up between his arms screaming how happy he was. Actually, he didn't care about the gender, he would be this excited knowing it was a girl too.

He used to spend his free time assembling all the bedroom furniture, finding him sleeping a lot of time on the floor with the instructions on his chest.

Every night, he lied down over your belly, carefully to not hurt you, to sing him his favorite songs because the doctor said that it was good to talk to him.

He didn't care about what time it was whenever you had a craving. If he was in bed, he just jumped out of it. And if he was with the club, Chuckie was in charge of it. Everyone was delighted with the idea of having a new member.

In childbirth, he was the most supportive man on earth, holding your hand and filling your face with a bunch of gentle kisses.

And you have never seen him cry, but when the doctor gave him his baby, he was crying more than your son.

“Mama, look”. He said fascinated, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling down a little the Mayans' towel Vicki wove for him.

You were exhausted, feeling pain all over your body and about to fall asleep, doing a last effort to hold your newborn.

“He has your nose”. Creeper chuckled, leaning towards you to kiss your forehead.

The first day of Kid Garden, your husband insisted on bringing the whole crew.

“Okay, Manu, listen”. Neron squatted to his son, placing both hands on his tiny shoulder to put on well his bag. “The mission is to make more than ten friends. If you do it, papa is gonna give you a surprise tonight, deal?”

“Yeah, papa”. He nodded excitedly, before jumping into his father to hug him as strongly as he could.

“Hey, buddy”. Bishop called him, leaning next to your husband. “Don' be a casanova like your dad, ah?”

“What's tha'?”

“Obispo!” You laughed rolling your eyes, lifting up your son between your arms. “Have a good day, mi amorcito”.

“You too, mama. Are you gonna miss me?”

“Of course yes, baby. All the time. But we will pick you up in a couple hours, okay? You just… have fun, make friends and don't forget to eat your lunch”.

“Okay, mama. I love you”.

“I love you too, Manuel”.

“Bye, tíos”. Moving his tiny hand, once he was back to the floor, he ran to his new teacher to come into the school.

“Man… you two do an amazing job, I couldn't”.

“Yeah, Angel. But don't be jealous. You're our baby too”.

But the worst and, at the same time, best day of his life was when he found Manu crying for the first time.

You were standing up close to the door of his room, waiting for Creeper. You had been stalking him for almost thirty minutes, not knowing what to do, but knowing that your husband would know it.

“Hey, mama, what's up?”

“Dunno… He's just… there. Crying”.

“Okay, let's see”. Neron knocked on the door, before coming in, followed by you more worried than ever. It was breaking your heart. “Hey, buddy”.

Your son quickly sat up on his bed, cleaning his tears with the back of his hands and shaking his head. His father dragged the chair over the floor, to sit on and put you on his lap, surrounding your waist with both arms.

“Cariño, you know you can… talk with us about anything, right?” You said carefully, while Creeper placed his chin on your shoulder.

“You will not understand”.

That. That was the sentence that made you understand. Turning to your husband, you smirked at him, before getting up to sit next to your son. And you hug him like never before, kissing his cheek a lot of times until he stopped crying.

“Hey, Manu, listen. We're your parents, and your friends. We will never, ever, judge you. Unless you're gonna tell me you did something bad to an animal”. Creeper's speeches were the best. “Cause you didn't, rai'?”

He shook his head, almost smiling.

“I just… I…” Manu looked at you with his lips trembling, licking them and trying to comfort himself. “I am gay”.

Creeper traveled his gaze from his son towards you, shrugging a little, before sitting by his other side.

“So, what? Anyone told you shit about it?”

“No, no, no… I just… was scared of your reaction”. Bowing his head down, he seems too ashamed.

“I love you more now, than one minute ago. Because you're deciding to live your life as you want. And we're very proud to be your parents, buddy”. Creeper said, pointing his chest, claiming for his attention.

“Yes, baby. And never let anyone tell you what you have to do, or how you have to live your life, you hear me?” You added, while he was raising his head.

“We will always love you, exactly as you are, Manuel. Never forget it, okay?”

Everything has changed since this day. Manu left away all the pain he was feeling because of believing that you wouldn't accept him, to be the most happy boy on earth. He also told it to his tíos, and they had the same reaction. Everyone was proud of him, and supportive to the extreme.

The day that your son told you that he was going to bring his boyfriend for dinner, Creeper was more nervous than you.

“Yo! Mama! Do I look good?” He said turning around so you could see the whole outfit.

“Neron, everyth—”.

Before you could continue talking, you heard the door getting opened and closed, followed by some nervous whispers.

“Oh, shit, they're already here. Okay, mama, keep calm”.

“I'm pretty calmed, papi”. You laughed palming his chest, before going downstairs.

“Hey, mama! This is… Dani”. Your son wasn't expecting you this soon.

“Hi, Dani, welcome home”. You said with a huge and dearly smile on your lips, giving him a warmth hug. “Manu told us a lot about you. It's like if we already meet you”.

“Really? Oh, ah… Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you too”.

“Where's papa…?” He asked somewhat nervously, making you laugh.

“Your father is more edgy than you”. Whispering, you leaned towards them.

“That's not true!” He tried to say, with his voice breaking a little. “What's up, buddy?”

Neron hugged your son tightly, noticing that he seemed as if he was about to cry, before turning to Manu's boyfriend.

“I am… Daniel… Dani”.

“Finally, mate!” Creeper hugged him, palming his back pretty excited. “Yo! Yeah, I'm fuckin' nervous, sorry”.

When you were already sleeping between his arms, after the dinner and a long talk about your family and Dani's family, your husband decided to wake you up at four am.

“Hey, baby… Mama”.

“Fuck, Neron… What the hell do you want?”

“Do you think that Dani likes us?”

“Oh, fuck off, Neron! I was sleeping”.

“Yeah, yeah. But, now that you're not, what do you think?”

“I'm gonna make him don't like you, if you don't let me sleep”.

“Yo! Mama! Why would you do that?” He asked, starting to feel tense and insecure.

“Jesus Christ, papi… He likes us, a lot actually. Dani told me you're pretty cool”.

“Really? Does he think tha'? Damn…”

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #neron creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas #creeper

[nctinfo]

[TRANS] Johnny & Jaehyun’s interview with W Korea May 2020 issue!

Today was a day where we borrowed the cinematic imagination of the 1996 film <Romeo and Juliet" directed by Baz Luhrmann and created two Romeos. Both of you portrayed the 'Modern Day Romeo' well, how did you think the shooting went? Johnny: It felt like we came out to play. The setting too, it felt just like any small town in America. When I was leaning against the bed during the shoot, I danced excitedly while holding a bunch of grapes (laughs). Romeo, I think, is someone who is honest with his feelings and who wants to achieve love till the end. Thanks to this, regardless of what others might think, I had fun during the shoot. Jaehyun: From the Hawaiian shirts with palm trees to leopard print belts. Above all, the outfits were bold. The point of today was to act like someone who plays around and has always worn this kind of style. There was a scene [in the movie] where Romeo flips over the white blankets and plays around with Juliet, but it wasn't easy [to portray that scene] because of the blood that rushed to my face (laughs).

It’s a shame we don’t have a Juliet today. If you were to summon Juliet right now, what outfit would she appear in? And what do you imagine would be the first thing she says? Johnny: A simple outfit would be nice. For today’s shoot I was wearing a white short sleeved t-shirt and cream coloured jeans, so Juliet would have a similar vibe and would say ‘Are you doing well?’ filled with affection and excitement. Jaehyun: She’d appear in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. With a short ‘I missed you’.

There are two male leads in the movie <Romeo and Juliet>. There is Romeo who is a romanticist with rich emotions but who is hesitant in front of love, and there is Tybalt who is a calm strategist but sometimes emits fiery charms like a bulldozer. Between the two, who do you feel like you're similar to? Johnny: I think I'm similar to Tybalt who wants to be like Romeo. I'm the type of person to carry out something immediately when you decide on it. On the other hand, I want to learn from Romeo's attitude to be faithful and honest with your feelings the moment you fall in love. Jaehyun: I'm the opposite of Johnny. I think I'm Romeo who wants to resemble Tybalt's calm and analytical side. Normally, I'm the type to follow my feelings rather than reasoning, so if I had to choose between the two, it would be Romeo.

If some day your story gets made into a movie, what song would you want to be played in the ending credits? Johnny: On bright sunny days like lately the mood is refreshed and tender. If the movie will be about me in spring, then Mac Miller’s ‘Circles’ would be nice. If I ever get to make a movie in the future, any Coldplay song would be good. Coldplay’s music feels like home, music genres come and go, but in the end when I need stability I always seem to turn to Coldplay. Jaehyun: In my own movie, first of all I don’t think we need a post credit scene (laugh). I’ve always cherished Chet Baker’s ‘I fall in love too easily’. It’s a tasty song that you can listen to on repeat with an empty head, without thinking anything. Chet Baker’s trumpet performance and voice always strangely draw my ears in.

The title song 'Kick It' of your 2nd full album <NCT#127 Neo Zone> that was released in March actively incorporates the identity of cine kids hero, Bruce Lee. Taking over Bruce Lee's baton, is there a movie protagonist who you want to express musically? Johnny: Exactly two people come to mind. First, Brad Pitt from the movie <Fight Club>, I want to try a song with a strong beat with a fighter's unique fiery temperament. It would be great to incorporate the shocking twist of the movie. The other is Will Smith in the movie <The Pursuit of Happiness>. It's a 'life' movie I want to give five stars. No matter what twists and turns, it's a movie that eventually ends with a happy ending. It would be nice to sing [a song] with a message that even though it's hard now, you'll be happy in the end. A slow ballad would suit that, right? Jaehyun: Even though I acted as him today, Romeo would be fun [to express]. It would be a song that shouts love, but it would be perfect if it contains everything from joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure like in the movie. When I think of James Dean in the movie <Rebel Without a Cause> I imagine music that puts together spicey funky beats based on the old sounds of jazz bands. Recently I'm really into jazz, soul, and R&B, so a band sound is essential.

Even if it's not someone who everyone knows like Bruce Lee, is there someone you two consider to be a hero? Johnny: I don't really express it well normally, but my mom? I'm an only child that was born late, so I always stuck to my mother when I was young. Looking back, I think my mother was a person who sacrificed herself to her family but still valued her happiness. I want to resemble the way she always lives consciously while having fun. It was my mother who taught me how to feel and enjoy every moment. My mom often told me that the experience of 'trying' something is important. For example, I spent my childhood in the United States, and no matter what, we always celebrated the independence day, which is on July 4th, with family and watched the fireworks. On days when the moon was bright and full, we'd be outside watching it. Thanks to this, I think I've grown up as a person with rich emotions. Jaehyun: my grandmother. Despite nearing 80 years old, she had been a dancer until recently and is now retired. She doesn't miss the broadcasts I appear on and watches everything, and after the broadcast ends, she will always send me long KakaoTalk messages with feedback. Because she's a dancer, there are times when she points out my fingertips and neckline but in general, she tells me what kind of mindset I should have when it comes to life. I always get advice from teachers and people around me, but strangely, every word from my grandmother seems to really pierce me. [She tells me] Don't mind others, live enjoying everything you can take on. I still hold [those words] close to me.

It's been quite a while since the first stage you did in the name of NCT 127. What was the driving force behind you during this long time? Johnny: fans, members, family. Looking back, it seems like it was people that led me. Fans are the 'reason' for me to do something. The members are my companions who walk together for this reason, and wouldn't my family be my roots. Having a place to go back to is a completely different story. I think it's family that shows me that I can fall sometimes and that I have somewhere to go back to. Jaehyun: I was able to endure my trainee days purely because I liked music. It's the same now. Of course, our fans who like our music and who come and watch our stages are a great strength too. One difference is that, until now, I relied on the people around me and tried to lean my body on the 'crew', but I seem to have found a driving force within myself recently. I give myself strength by pushing myself or complimenting myself, that's how I find enlightenment within myself. In this sense, as a human, I feel like I'm going through a time of maturity.

If you could go back in time, what would you tell yourself if you could pat yourself on the back right before going up on the stage for the first time? Johnny: ‘Have confidence. Even if your spirits fall, work on everything’. I don’t know how it might have looked on the outside but my state of mind now seems to be very different from then. I’m much more free now. I kept telling myself that I’m nice and confident, and now I think I am able to stand confident like this. I don’t know why I only saw the flaws in the past. Now, rather than trying to make up for my weaknesses, I tend to focus on maximising my strengths instead. Jaehyun: ‘Do what you want, what you think is right and what you like. Of course I know you’ll do fine, but it would be nice to be a bit more daring.’

What are 3 adjectives that describe you? Johnny: Energetic, romantic, selfish. The last word I chose because I think in order to make another person happy, I need to be happy myself and only when I have a sense of security I can care for other people. Jaehyun: I like classic stuff so first of all, classic, continuous because I always try to learn and grow, and firm in terms of trying to remain as stable as possible.

What were you born with, and on the other hand what weren’t you born with that you’re trying to achieve? Johnny: Seems like I was born with curiosity. Like I’ve mentioned before, my mom has influenced me a lot. On the other hand I want to make passion my thing. Sometimes I look at the members when I’m lazing around. Everyone has their ‘one passion’! Jaehyun: Ever since I was little I would always fix the TV at home whenever it broke down. I think I’ve been born with dexterity. I seem to be good at sports, but I really need flexibility (laugh). I also want to break up with my short lived resolve. To speak, I lack persistence a little. When I really like something or if I have a clear reason to do it, my body moves. If there’s neither, I fall into the swamp of one short lived resolve to another. (laugh)

As a listener of <NCTs Night Night>, a show that was hosted by the two of you in the past, I think you were compassionate and were counselors who had shown more empathy than other people of your age. Today, let's write the concerns of you two. What's your biggest concern now after passing April 12th, 2020? Johnny: Although it's a little embarrassing to say it in words, my biggest concern these days is how to be a strength for the fans who we can't meet because of the recent situation. Most importantly, I don't want to be distressed and spend this time more meaningful. Jaehyun: What the heck to do at home! I'm the type to be very active. Nobody can go outside so I'm working hard in trying to find something I can do home alone. I've watched movies, listened to music and cooked, but I can't help but still feel the itch [to do something].

When you watch your web variety show <NCT LIFE>, you two are often seen standing in the kitchen. Is there any dish you want to make for that one precious person in the future? I wonder what the specific recipe is and what the mood of the day will be like. Johnny: First of all, I wanna make breakfast. Omelets are good to eat in the morning. Omelets are well made when you think 'even though it's bad, it's good'! Stir-fry onions and bell peppers until they become sweet, then sprinkle some pepper to finish it. The time would be good at 09:30 am when the sunlight is strong enough to see the dust. That precious one would be sitting in a chair (laughs). The table will be set with cutlery and two cups of coffee. So that you can open the morning in a relaxed and simple manner. Jaehyun: Samgyetang and stir-fried pork, is that too native? (laughs) If I had to choose one, I will pick the stir-fried pork that was also complimented on <NCT LIFE>. Sometimes only red pepper paste or red pepper powder is used for the sauce, but I tend to use both. It would be great if there was a pretty plate with fruit too, it's the perfect dessert.

Even if it’s not a cooking moment, what’s the time, place, thing or person that makes you the most gentle? Johnny: From noon to 2pm. I feel the most peaceful when the sun is shining at that time. I don’t really care about the place. As for a thing, a scented candle that I have received as a gift while filming <NCT LIFE> in Thailand. For people, anyone! Jaehyun: Late night nearing the dawn. I really like watching the night view. I think the Han River could make me the most gentle. Personal things like earphones or speakers. Being together with family would be nice.

As a person and as a musician, what time do you think you’re going through? Johnny: I always feel like I'm at the starting line. Even when I do the same thing, I have to have a new mindset in order to grow. Jaehyun: It’s a slow process for humans but I seem to be slowly becoming more mature. As a musician, when the time comes I’ll be looking from a distance thinking I’m making ‘my own’ thing.

Translation: Alex, Esmee @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: W Korea Scans — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

#NCT #johnny #jaehyun #t:trans #t:interview #W Korea #W Korea: May 2020

[johaerys-writes]

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 39: Rebel Song

The gang returns to the war-torn Orlesian countryside, and the welcome they receive is far from warm. Banter and action, this time with even more terrible jokes because Sera has come with :’D

Read on AO3! Or read from the beginning

Tristan rubbed his eyes with a yawn. The steady rocking of his horse and the thick, humid heat was making him sleepy. His backside wasn’t at its best either, admittedly: they had been riding for the better part of the week, and this day was already drawing near its end.

The journey through the Orlesian countryside had been everything that Tristan had expected, and worse. So, so much worse. His advisors had warned him that things would be different from when he had last been to the place, but even their expectations had been inaccurate, by a fairly large margin.

He and his party had followed the Imperial Highway for as long as they could- the only road, really, that was still accessible to travellers for the most part. Most other great roads, as the various Inquisition agents at the outposts they had stopped along the way had informed them, had been closed off by the barricades set up by either Gaspard’s or Celene’s armies, or were unsafe for small groups to traverse. That, too, was new: the number of outlaws and bandits had increased tenfold during the months Tristan had been away- and it hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing the last time, either. Last time around it had been bands of Freemen roaming the land- this time, it was men and women that evidently had even less than the deserters from the armies to lose and preyed on whoever was poor or desperate enough to travel the countryside alone without arms or protection. They were vicious, but cowardly, never taking on large or armed groups, and swore no allegiance to anyone at all.

Which raised the question: where were the Freemen?

“There haven’t been any sightings in weeks, Ser,” an Inquisition scout informed him, when they’d stopped for the night at an Inquisition camp just past Lydes. “After word has spread of your victory in the Emerald Graves, most of their camps were deserted soon after. Some say that they’ve returned to their homes, those who still had one, while others claim they have all moved out of the plains and gone to the West, where there are still empty places for them to settle, and no one to come after them.”

“The West?” Tristan had asked the young woman in curiosity. “There’s nothing past here at all, and all western roads lead to the Badlands. Even the Freemen that are left cannot be that desperate.”

The scout had simply shrugged.

It didn’t make much sense to Tristan- but then again, not much of what the Freemen did made sense to him. For the next few days, as they steadily trudged along the Imperial Highway, alongside throngs of refugees and the occasional merchant caravan that was still bold enough to brave the war-torn countryside, they kept passing by abandoned camps, or the old manors and watchtowers that had been claimed, rummaged, and then left to ruin by the Freemen. Apart from the occasional travel weary and worn down infantry division from either Celene’s or Gaspard’s armies, whose officers merely pretended to keep an eye over the towns and villages that had been claimed during the war, the only other people they encountered were beggars or tired and scared men, women and children with dirt smudged faces and clothes that were about to fall off their skinny shoulders.

Orlais really, really couldn’t get much worse than this.

With a sigh, Tristan straightened on his saddle, rolled his shoulders, tilted his head this way and that. Travelling on horseback all day did not agree with him, and the devastation all around him did nothing to lift his mood. He could feel his stomach churning and his head throbbing ever so slightly as the rays of the setting sun fell straight into his eyes. The only thing that settled his upset stomach on those days was his fine Antivan brandy, though he had been careful not to drink too much. He needed to stay alert, and the humid heat that surrounded them like a blanket took most of the edge off all by itself. Tristan could already feel his eyelids drooping, and it wasn’t even nightfall yet.

Well. One swig couldn’t hurt much, could it?

From atop his bay gelding, Dorian shot him a curious look when he saw him tipping his flak over his lips. Tristan swallowed the mouthful of brandy, then raised his eyebrows at him in question.

“How come you still have enough of this?” Dorian asked him in a low voice, steering his horse so he was riding beside him. “I thought you would have finished it days ago.”

“I’ve been careful with it,” Tristan replied as he carefully screwed the flask’s cap shut. “I only brought the one, and we still have weeks ahead of us. What?” he asked when Dorian blinked.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just… impressed that’s all.”

“Are you? I don’t know whether to feel proud or concerned that you think my resolve so brittle.”

“Brittle?” Dorian chuckled softly, “Not at all. I don’t know anyone that’s more stubborn than you are, in fact.”

“Except for you, you mean?” Dorian rolled his eyes, and Tristan grinned. How he liked to tease him. His lips that pursed ever so slightly, his eyebrow that lifted just a bit, the rueful little glances he shot him out of the corner of his eye before he looked away. How he managed to be irresistible even when irked, Tristan could never understand. It made him want to tease him all the more.

“In any case,” Tristan said casually, slipping the flask back in his coat pocket, “if you wanted a sip, all you had to do is ask. I’ve seen how you keep eyeing my flask.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “Trust me, amatus, your flask is the last thing I keep eyeing.”

“Yeah, amatusss, your ‘flask’ is the last thing he’s been eyeing,” Sera snickered from the next horse over. “The first thing he’s been eyeing is your—”

“Sera,” Dorian hissed in warning. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare.”

“What? I was only going to say his arse.”

Dorian turned to glare at her, outrage writ all over his face. Sera burst out in wicked, high pitched laughter that made several of the weary travellers that were trailing alongside them on the Highway stop and gawk at them. Tristan bit his lip down hard to stop himself from laughing as well, but it wasn’t long before Dorian’s murderous glare was directed at him.

“You, too?” Dorian asked him pointedly.

Tristan gave him an apologetic little smile, still trying to stop himself from following Sera’s example, who seemed incredibly amused at having riled Dorian. “I mean,” he said in a strained voice, trying his best to keep a straight face, “she’s probably right. You’re not very subtle.”

Dorian clicked his tongue and punched him lightly on the shoulder, just as Sera slapped her thigh and cackled even more loudly. She laughed until her brown gelding whinnied in protest to her jerky movements and tossed its head back, causing Sera to almost lose her balance.

Dorian sniffed in disdain, then kicked his horse forward, his back straight and his head held high in defiance.

“Oh, come on—” Tristan laughed, following him with Almond. “It was just a joke!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Sera cackled after them both. “I call them like I see them!”

“Not listening!” Dorian replied with a wave of his hand, his golden rings glittering in the disappearing evening light.

From atop his horse, Iron Bull let out a deep, throaty chuckle. He stood almost two heads taller than everyone else, sitting tall and straight on the enormous draft horse Master Dennet had managed to find for him. It was a tough and calm mount, slow but sure footed, meant to draw carriages and plough carts rather than being ridden, but there had been no other horse suitable for the large Qunari.

It’s no Asaarash,  Iron Bull had said when he saw it, but it will have to do. Better than my own legs could, anyhow.

“With all the racket you three keep making," he said, "I’m surprised no Freemen have come crawling out of their hideouts to attack us. I would kill for some entertainment right now.” He winked at Solas, who was riding beside him on his chestnut coloured hart, “Get it, Solas? Kill for entertainment?”

Solas let out a small, exasperated sigh. “Yes, I do get it, Iron Bull. Unfortunately, the jest continues to be lost on me, as it has been the last five times you said it.”

“Ah, that’s ‘cause none of you can appreciate a good joke,” Bull laughed with a dismissive wave. “I tell you, those guys are just hiding in the bushes, waiting for us to lower our guard.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Want to bet on it?” Bull grinned.

Solas only frowned and looked ahead of him.

After this, they rode for a while in blissful silence, with Dorian’s annoyed pout relenting only after Tristan promised not to tease him again, then proceeded to peel an apple for him and carve it in the shape of a duck with one of his sharpest knives. It didn't look particularly good, but the apple was still sweet and crisp, and a soft blush had crept up Dorian's cheeks when he'd accepted it, so Tristan couldn't complain much.

Darkness fell all around them, and with it heavy clouds gathered overhead and a thick layer of mist covered the earth. The terrain changed slowly and steadily, with the tall grasses giving way to small thickets dispersed through the expansive land, and the flat plains rising in low, rolling hills. The air was so thick and humid that it made Tristan’s clothes stick to his skin, and the horses’ movements slow and sluggish. It wasn’t long before a droplet fell on his head, then another. Soon, raindrops were gliding past Tristan’s collar and the openings of his boots, warm like sweat.

“We’ll need to find shelter soon,” Tristan told them all, squinting in the half dark. The people travelling alongside them had dispersed with the approaching dusk and the rain, until it was just the five of them on the wide, hard packed dirt road. They should have reached the Inquisition outpost close to Verchiel a good two hours before, but the barricade that had been set up by Celene's soldiers at the Fleurcolline passage had greatly delayed them. Now they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, and with not much hope of reaching the outpost until dawn came.

“We can’t ride for long in this weather," Tristan said, gathering his coat around him, "and it’s dangerous to travel after dark.”

The rest of his party didn’t seem overly pleased to continue travelling like this either, with Dorian muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped himself in his leather overcoat, and Sera’s gelding tossing its head back in annoyance whenever the elf fidgeted on the saddle, which was a near constant occurrence. Bull and Solas seemed far less perturbed by the foul weather, yet no less tired.

“Shall we set up camp?” Solas asked, looking around.

“If you can find a decent spot,” Tristan grumbled. There was open space all around them, with only a few thickets of miserable trees that would probably not provide any shelter from the rain. The ground, too, was covered in mud, and he didn’t relish the notion of sleeping in a soddy tent, or having a miserable dinner of hardtack and cold cheese. Even Dorian’s and Solas’ magic couldn’t keep a fire going for long if there was no dry wood to be found.  

He let his gaze wander off into the distance, and was rewarded when he saw flickering lights, not too far ahead. A glance at his map confirmed his hopes; there was a small town nearby, one that the agents of the Inquisition they had last met had said was amongst the last standing this side of Orlais.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Sera asked when Tristan drew all of their attention to the village. “On we go, chop chop! Been dying for a mug of ale for hours.”

Solas glanced at the lights warily. “Do you know who is in charge of this town?”

“No one, as far as the scouts knew,” Tristan answered. Horville, as the place was called, used to be a crossroads town, meant for merchant caravans to stop and rest their horses and riders. Most of the buildings were inns and shops, with only a few houses for the people who worked there. After the war had broken out, it had been primarily frequented by the infantry and cavalry divisions that crossed the plains from time to time, staying only for a short while before moving on to the next post. It had been intentionally kept as a neutral ground of sorts, with no one army claiming ownership over the small town and its businesses.

Solas’ expression darkened. “No one that we can see, perhaps.”

Tristan considered Solas’ words for a few moments. Perhaps it was somewhat reckless to walk into a town that they knew so little about, but in the end his hunger and exhaustion seemed to overcome his suspicions. Dorian and Sera were none too quick to agree when he suggested they all ride to the small town in search of an inn to spend the night. No matter who was in charge of the village, they would hardly deny some weary travellers some rest, especially those with coin to spend. Right?

“Who are you, and what business have you?”

The guard standing behind the oak and iron-wrought gate had a gruff voice and an ever gruffer appearance, only partially illuminated by the lamp he held before his face. It was half hidden by his dark hood, but Tristan could still see the unkempt beard and the pock marks on his cheeks. Despite his rough appearance though, his cloak seemed sturdy and well made, and the leather handle of his sword hilt freshly worked. Business was going well in Horville, it seemed.

Tristan pushed his own hood back, and in his best Orlesian, he said, “We’re travellers, looking for shelter from this rain. A warm meal, too, and some drink to wash it down. Are you not going to let us in?”

The man squinted at them. “Don’t get many travellers like yourselves around these parts. Not anymore.”

“It appears you have now.” He let his lips curl in a cold smile, willfully ignoring the man’s hand that was already straying to his sword. His own hand slithered within the folds of his coat, pulling out his coin purse. “We’re not going to be any trouble. I assure you.”

The gold coin that Tristan tossed in his direction flipped in a small arc, catching the light of the lamp before it was snatched in the air by the guard’s practiced hand. The man’s beady black eyes widened when he beheld the coin, then his gaze flicked to each one of them in turn. After a few brief moments of intense scrutiny, he sniffed and jerked his head to the side, signalling for the men behind the gates to let them in.

“Keep an eye on your beast,” he said gruffly as their horses passed him by, shooting a baleful look at the Iron Bull’s horns. Tristan turned to glare at him, but the man only sniffed again and spat on the ground.

“Sour tit,” Sera mumbled under her breath, glaring daggers at the man over her shoulder. “Should have looked at his own ugly mug.”

“Pay him no mind, Bull,” Tristan told the Qunari in a low voice as he led his horse down the narrow cobblestone street. “Most of these people have never seen a Qunari before in their lives.”

“No worries, Boss,” Bull said, his lips widening in his usual, easy smile. “I’ve heard worse while sparring with the boys. These guys have probably seen their share of trouble. Can’t blame them for being cautious.”

Read the rest on AO3!

#dorian pavus #dorian pavus x trevelyan #dorian pavus/trevelyan #pavelyan #dorian pavus x inquisitor #dorian pavus/inquisitor #dorian x tristan trevelyan #tristan trevelyan #sera #iron bull #a world with you #johaerys writes

[rpmemes-galore]

supernatural : season 5 ... sentence starters

“Hey, ass-butt.!”

“Well, go ahead. Kill me.“

“I'm going to kill you, myself.“

“I just don't think I can trust you.“

“No. It's foolish, it can't be done.“

“You are nine kinds of crazy, boy.”

“I can't do this without you. I can't.“

“I found a liquor store. And I drank it.”

“You won't kill him. You wouldn't dare.“

“Oh, nothing, just the end of the world.“

“I'm making this stuff up as I go. Sue me!”

“Well, then I ain't gonna let him die alone.“

“Do we have any chance of surviving this?“

“What's wrong with you? Are you... drunk?“

“I need to step back, 'cause I'm dangerous.“

“I was dead from the moment we said ‘hello’.“

“I can do this. I can. I'm gonna prove it to you.“

“I thought you were supposed to be impressive.”

“You've come a long way to see this, haven't you?“

“I can't fight, I can't walk, but I can do something...”

“I would give anything, anything, to take it all back...”

“All of them? You think you have to save everyone?“

“What am I supposed to do, just let you off the hook?“

“Would you believe I'm actually trying to protect you?“

“But there's no other explanation. He's gone for good.“

“Honestly, people don't need a reason to kill each other.“

“I'm hunted, I have rebelled, and I did it - all of it - for you.“

“There's something in me that... scares the hell out of me.”

“I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back.“

“You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse.”

“You know we destroyed that kid's life by telling him the truth.“

“I can see inside your head. And it is a one-track city in there.“

“So, is there a quota? How many people do you have to save?“

“I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here, you know?“

“She was the love of my life; how many times do I gotta kill her?“

“Just when we thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh?”

“Oh, no. He, like, exploded. Like a water balloon of chunky soup.”

“You gotta stop poking around in my dreams; I need some me time.“

“It's my job, somebody's gotta save people's asses. Yours included.“

“I'm gonna rip you apart from the inside out. Do you understand me?“

“And I lost everything, for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself.“

“Why do you have to hunt monsters? Why not let someone else do it?“

“You don't have to be afraid of me,. What do you think I'm going to do?“

“I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am, I'm... I'm really good.“

“Damn right, they're flawed... But a lot of 'em try to do better, to forgive.”

“I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn't.“

“Don't you get it? You can't run from yourself. Why are you running now?“

“You're sure? I mean, maybe he just vanished into the light or something.“

“You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be.“

“I guess I'm a little numb with the earth-shattering revelations at this point.“

“You want to be strong, again, but not just strong... stronger than everybody.”

“Same song, different verse. Things are never gonna change with you. Never.“

“I am calm. And I'd very calmly like to talk about the monster that's hunting us.“

“I know how messed up that sounds, which means, I know how messed up I am.”

“You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless, and selfish, and arrogant.“

“Last I checked, it wasn't the road to heaven that was paved with good intentions.“

“You better kill me, now! Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you. And I won't stop---!”

“I am wearing sunglasses at night! You know who does that? No-talent douchebags.“

“I got your message. It was long, your message. I find the sound of your voice grating.“

“You knew there was something dark inside of you. Deep down, maybe, but you knew.“

“Oh, uh, excuse me for asking, but... aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant?“

“You were the one that I depended on the most. And you let me down in ways that I can't even...“

“I got no idea. But what I do have is a G.E.D., and a ‘give 'em hell’ attitude and I'll figure it out.“

“Could you do me a favor there, Satan, and remind me to quit drinking before I go to bed?“

“You don’t know my family. What you guys call the Apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner!“

“I just can't keep pretending that everything's all right. Because it's not. And it's never going to be.”

“No drinking, no gambling, no premarital sex. They basically just outlawed 90 percent of your personality.”

“Sweetheart, if this is our last night on Earth, then I'm going to spend it with a little thing I call self-respect.“

“You're not fooling me, you know that? With this 'sympathy for the devil' crap. I know what you are.”

“It is not fun, it's not entertaining. It is a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nuthouse!“

“Sooner or later, the past is gonna catch up to you like it always does. You know what happens then? People die.“

“What is going on in this town, it's what happens when this thing is happy; you cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry.”

“Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier.“

“This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If by some miracle, we pull this off, I want you to lose my number. You understand me?“

“An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground supernatural piece of crap. The only difference between them and you, is the size of your ego.”

“And that's exactly what you're going to do: you're going to take all that crap, and you're gonna bury it. You're gonna forget about it, because that's how we keep going.“

#rp meme #sentence starters #spn quotes