Heated Rivalry composer Peter Peter was asked what song from the score he thinks best describes Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov's relationship:
"I guess "Its You" for sure. I don't sing a lot. Here and there for this show. But this moment was very sacred, and very like uhh... it depicts the magical factor that affects the show. I feel like I didn't even write this song to be honest. It just wrote itself. People felt connected because they couldn't Shazam me cause it wasn't distributed well while they were watching the show. People reached out so much for this song so I feel like it is the strongest musical cue for the series. People will identify their own romance to this."
Heated Rivalry Composer Peter Peter on the iconic song "It's You" x
I still think about the bs Rooster Teeth pulled by only allowing Neo in over Adam and Penny (the two Mori and the crew really wanted) or anyone else. I think I'll be forever bitter about that.
Not to make it seem like I’m inviting GOT Discourse in this the year of our lord 2020 but... The thing that I’m never going to forgive about S8, (other than, y’know, everything) is that they just... dropped the Valonqar plot?
Even in the absolute rushed, botched mess of a season they had, there WAS space for it? The seeds were there unlike with literally anything else that happened! NOT DOING IT WAS A CHOICE. They looked at everything and they actively CHOSE not to go with Jaime-kills-Cersei and I AM STILL ANGRY.
Supermodel Caroline Forbes gave birth to her first daughter two months ago, but rumours are still speculating on who the secret Baby Daddy is. The Internet finds itself in a frenzy as fans can’t help but notice the similarities between the new baby and Caroline’s bodyguard, Klaus.
(Trashy story based on the rumours about Kylie Jenner and her Bodyguard - sorry, not sorry)
Anonymous asked me: “Imagine what would happen if Rocket Raccoon got an army of clones of himself. “. Well, my dear anon, hope you’ll like it!
Warnings: weirdness ahead. Just... Complete nonsense and terrible jokes. I’m not ashamed, I had too much fun writing this.
“What do you mean you don’t know what happened?” Quill hissed. Rocket grunted, frustrated.
“Exactly that: I have no idea what went wrong.” He clarified for the ninth time in three minutes. Quill was not satisfied with the answer as he angrily kept pacing up and down the cockpit.
“I swear I’m going to kill you.”
“Oh, are you? Guess what, Star-Douche, you’d still have me around! In multiple copies!”
“Would you just drop it.” Gamora interrupted them, annoyed “We need to solve this.”
To put it mildly, Rocket made one hell of a mess. He was fiddling with an interdimensional portal (“I bet you stole it.” “’Course I did, you idiot, don’t you know how flarkin’ expensive these things are?”) and everything was going okay… Until he accidentally pushed a button that caused the whole thing to stop working. Also, a bunch of Rocket’s copies had appeared out of the blue, scaring him to death.
After a bit of confusion, a panic attack, a fair amount of cursing and various guns pointed at many raccoonoids by many raccoonoids, the situation calmed down enough for Rocket to start thinking with clarity. With the help of the team, he managed to seclude the clones in the common room, while the Guardians looked for a solution. That is, except for Quill, who instead was looking for something sharp to help him skin the original Rocket alive.
Drax joined the others in the cockpit, with Groot on his shoulder.
“How’s it going down there?” asked Gamora. Drax shrugged, unsure of where to start.
“Well, Rocket is making himself a sandwich, while Rocket plays with Rocket’s weapons. But Rocket punched Rocket because Rocket wouldn’t let him pick the music. Except he punched the wrong Rocket, so now the three of them are all fighting each other. Rocket and Rocket are placing bets, if you guys are interested.” Peter got paler and paler as Drax spoke. Of all the things he could have ever imagined happening on his ship…
“I need a drink.” He exhaled.
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to get one, since Rocket just drank our last bottle of alcoholic beverages.” Drax explained. Peter slumped in one of the pilot’s chair, while Rocket jumped down the one he was sitting on, furious.
“That does it.” He growled, reaching the stairs. “I’m going to murder the bastard.”
“Have fun figuring out which one.” Quill murmured. Gamora rolled her eyes and dragged Rocket back to his chair.
“Put me down! That Xandarian brandy was a limited edition!” Rocket’s protests were ignored altogether.
“I am Groot.”
“I don’t care that my liver will be happy about it!” Rocket crossed his arms, defeated. Groot patted his elbow in sympathy.
“Enough!” Gamora snapped. Everyone fell silent in an instant. Quill even straightened up in his chair.
“Now, what do we do with them?” asked Gamora.
Turned out, it didn’t take much to send the Rockets back to their respective homes, once the Guardians convinced them to work together. A story that involved a blackmail, one of Gamora’s swords and Groot being adorable.
The twig cried for the rest of the evening, for he was so happy to have copies of his dad all around the Milano and watching them all go away had broken his heart. Mantis managed to calm him down, in the end.
The Guardians were almost done with the cleaning in the common room, when Drax slowly approached Quill.
“Do you know for sure that we have the real Rocket? He might be an impostor. How do we tell the difference?” he whispered. Quill’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He didn’t even think about the possibility of the wrong Rocket remaining on the ship with them.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud sniff coming from under the table. He kneeled to see Rocket desperately hugging an empty bottle, mumbling stuff like “I would have loved you so much” and “I’ll miss you forever, buddy”.
Quill stood up and looked at Drax, smirking.
“Don’t worry, man. That one’s definitely our Rocket.”
I have no idea what the fuck this story is it legit took on a mind of its own and its all over the place and there’s probably some error n shit but here have some....fic. idek how to categorize it tbh
Nicos/Dorian (sorta kinda mostly idk) - 1833 words
The cool night air felt nice against Nicos’s warm face. He’d had enough of Mariah’s teasing for one night and left the tavern in a huff, making his way down past the blacksmith to stare up at the Breach. The nightlife of Haven was…oddly peaceful, and the Breach didn’t seem so frightening with the sounds of camaraderie filling the background.
Someone sat next to him and he flinched slightly before realizing it was his sister as she hooked her arm through his. He rolled his eyes and sighed, but he leaned into her.
“You okay, Little Bear?” she asked, squeezing his arm reassuringly.
He smiled and let out a little laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine. No worries.”
“You know I was just kidding back there, right? I think you and Dorian would be great together…” she said quietly, her voice full of sincerity. “I mean, if that’s what you want,” she added when he hung his head and groaned quietly. “If you’re fine just being fuck buddies, that’s okay too.”
“Ugh, don’t say it like that!” Nicos swatted at her, pulling away as she laughed.
“Well, it’s true!”
Nicos buried his face in his hands, feeling the blush spreading from his ears down his neck. “It just sounds so…crass when you say it like that…”
Mariah laughed again and tried to hook her arm through his again, but he flinched away. “Well, what would you call him?”
Nicos was silent for a while, staring up at the Breach. What would he call him? At this point, sure, they were, as Mariah phrased it, fuck buddies. How she knew that was a little more than embarrassing and he shook the thought from his head quickly. From what he knew of the man, he knew he would love to have a more meaningful relationship with him, but he was a realist. These things never lasted long and always ended badly… That didn’t mean he couldn’t savor it while it lasted. “Erastís,” he muttered finally.
“Really?” Mariah sounded pleasantly surprised. “I thought…I thought maybe you’d be against that sort of thing…that sort of commitment, I guess.”
“A lover isn’t like…too serious…”
“That word means more than lover, you know.”
“Well, for now, for me, that’s what it means. Can we drop this?” Nicos sighed loudly.
Mariah nodded and patted his knee. “All right, Little Bear. I’ll leave it be.” She rose and offered him a hand. “Gonna head back to the tavern. Wanna come?”
Nicos shook his head. “Nah, I’m gonna stay here for a while if that’s okay.”
“All right. See you tomorrow, brother. Don’t stay out here too long, okay? Don’t need you freezing to death.” She threw him a sloppy salute and walked off, the sound of her crunching footsteps fading away bringing Nicos a new sense of peace.
Nicos moaned loudly as Dorian kissed his way down the sensitive column of his throat, earning a mischievous chuckle.
“Careful, Inquisitor. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out we’re here,” Dorian whispered hoarsely against Nicos’s neck.
Nicos pulled Dorian closer, his hands falling to his rear and squeezing which resulted in a small yelp and hitch of his breath. “Afraid of doing this in the Chantry?” Nicos asked, breathless and wishing Dorian would move faster.
“Not a chance,” Dorian muttered. His fingers began unbuttoning Nicos’s shirt with practiced ease and he kissed his way back up to his mouth.
Nicos’s breathing picked up pace as Dorian’s hands massaged his bare chest. He fumbled as he tried to remove Dorian’s shirt, getting lost among all the buckles. Dorian swatted his hands away and did it himself, quickly dropping it to the floor and pressing himself back against Nicos, pushing him against the wall.
Nicos hit with a quiet ‘oof’ and chuckled before Dorian smothered it with a fierce kiss. Dorian moved down to his neck again, Nicos feeling the smirk as he let out another loud moan. “Erastís…” he whispered, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the wall.
He felt Dorian’s movements falter briefly and he blushed, embarrassed that he’d said the word aloud. “I…uh…sorry…” he muttered.
Dorian kept kissing, his movements rougher than before and Nicos tried to push him off, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
“Dorian, wait—ah…stop…please…” Nicos’s voice shook as he pushed harder, forcing Dorian to step back. “I…shit, I’m sorry…I can’t…”
Dorian stood back, flushed and panting and the unmistakable look of hurt in his eyes, but he nodded and cleared his throat before stooping to pick up his shirt. “Right, of course. I’ll see you around, Inquisitor.” He bowed slightly before leaving, head held defiantly high.
Nicos felt like crying. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to tell Dorian to stop, but this time just felt so different. His heart hurt. He’d clearly hurt Dorian’s feelings, but he wasn’t entirely sure how he could have kept going after letting…that word slip. He’d called Dorian his lover before, offhandedly calling him erastís, but this time the word meant something more. And it frightened Nicos.
Maybe it was best to let Dorian be hurt…maybe it was best to let that be the end. This was a mistake…this…this wasn’t going to end well—it never did. Maybe it was best to just…let it fall apart.
Nicos slowly put his shirt back on, swallowing the lump in his throat as he sat on one of the benches along the wall and staring up at the statue of Andraste, pulling his knees to his chest and curling up as much as he could.
He lost track of time, drifting in and out of sleep as he sat in solitude and he started at the sound of the door being dragged open.
“Little Bear?” Mariah sounded worried. She sat next to him, quietly looking him over, her brows drawn together in concern.
He acknowledged her with a half-hearted smile and turned his attention back to the statue of Andraste.
“Is…is everything okay? I saw Dorian and…” She paused to look him over, no doubt noting his messy hair and smeared eyeliner with more than a little anxiety.
Nicos bit his lip, ignoring the tears springing to his eyes. “Everything’s fine…” His voice sounded so small, almost like a whimper.
“Did he hurt you?”
The fear in her voice made Nicos’s chest tight. He hated that she was so worried for him, hated that she had reason to be worried like this. He’d assured and reassured her that Dorian wasn’t like that, he would never hurt him like that, but she was naturally protective of him.
“No, no it’s nothing like that, I promise. I just…I can’t do it, ‘Riah.” He buried his head in his arms and felt Mariah wrap an arm around his shoulders.
“Nicky…” He knew she wanted to tell him it would be okay, that it would work out. He knew she wanted to be that cheery big sister who had all the right answers. He also knew that she wanted to respect his boundaries. Wanted to. “Listen to me, okay? I want you to be happy, you know that, right? And cutting things off with Dorian…that doesn’t seem to be your best idea. Look at yourself right now. You’re a mess. You’re hiding in the Chantry. You don’t even believe in the Maker! The fact that you’re hiding out here looking like…this…you’re making a mistake.”
Nicos couldn’t help himself, he started laughing. It started as a stifled chuckle but grew to a full-bodied laugh. Mariah smacked him on the arm, saying something about how she was trying to be serious and hated seeing him like this, but he didn’t catch all of it.
“What the fuck is so funny?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he started once he’d calmed down enough to speak. “You think I broke things off with Dorian and came to mope in the Chantry?” At her suspicious nod, he chuckled again. “We were gonna fuck in here!” he blurted, suddenly hysterical. “Dorian and I, we were going to have blasphemous Chantry sex!”
Mariah took her hand from his shoulder, stuttering an attempt at a reply. “I…wait…what?”
“We started and I got a little freaked out because I actually have feelings for him and had to stop. I fucked it up again. How great, right? Who would’ve thought I’d fuck a relationship up? Oh, wait. Probably everyone because that’s all I do. I just ruin everything. I ruin everything I touch…” He started to laugh, a pathetic choked sound that quickly turned to sobs. “All I do is break things…how am I supposed to fix the world?”
“Oh, Nicos…” Suddenly Mariah’s arms were wrapped tightly around him, holding him securely as he cried. “You’re so strong. You’ve been through so much and come through it all. You’re not breaking things, you’re surviving things. Just because it doesn’t work for you, it doesn’t mean it’s broken. All these things have led to this, to you in this place. You’re going to save the world. You’re going to beat the bad guy because winning is what you do. You’re a survivor. And let me tell you something about Dorian. He has feelings for you, too. You’re so stuck in denial that you can’t see it, but he’s so fallen for you. So you need to buck up and do something about it, or you need to truly let him off the hook because stringing him along like this—all these flings?—it’s not fair. But you’re both so set on this self-loathing thing that you can’t see it, but everyone else can. Pick how you want your story to go. You’re the writer, you get to decide how it all goes.”
Nicos looked at her in confusion for a moment. “Since when did you become all poetic?”
Mariah chuckled and swatted his arm. “I got carried away a little bit there, I’ll admit…but I mean it.”
They sat in silence for a while, Nicos’s mind racing as he sifted through everything she’d said. “So…you really think Dorian and I—”
“Maker, yes. It’s so obvious I really don’t understand how you’re both still dancing around each other. Bags of bricks, both of you. Do something about that.”
“I’ll see. If he still wants to talk to me after today, that is. I wasn’t very…smooth.”
Mariah stood and offered a hand to her brother, helping him rise. “You’re never smooth, Nic. You have to accept this about yourself.”
Nicos playfully punched her arm. “Okay, Miss Loud Mouth. I’ll accept that I’m not smooth when you accept that you’re an annoying big sister.”
Mariah scoffed dramatically, a wide smile across her face. “Me? Annoying? Never. You take that back.”
“You’ll have to catch me first,” Nicos replied with a wink and took off running. Sure, he was the Inquisitor. He was supposed to save the world. He was twenty-three years old and he was falling in love. But that didn’t mean he had to grow up. Not today, anyway.
