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WH4T’S 1N YOUR FUTUR3? https://bit.ly/2v07M5R
@whatpumpkin
hunter's blessing - [Archive of Our Own]
There’s nowhere in the world to run when the hunters are on your tail, she’s learned, unless you’re running right into their arms.
Erifefsol, set in a Fantasystuck AU.
cloud-to-cloud
Chapter Two of The Tidal Rebellion, which is part one of at the end of the stars, my rebellionstuck fic!
His door's shut. I hate it when his door's shut. I mean, he shuts it all the time, sure, but this time it was locked as well and I didn't even have the key this time and–
And it's not about me, I'm not thinking again. Selfish, selfish, selfish.
...if his door weren't shut, he'd smirk and reply, don't you mean 2hellfii2h, FF? and I'd groan and he'd laugh.
His door's shut, though, and I hate it.
The wood is cool and smooth and easy to rest against. I mean, I've done it before, but usually it's from a coding binge, usually it's from exhaustion, usually I have a key–
Usually it's not my fault.
"Sollux?" He's not going to answer, I know that much. "I'm really really sorry."
Still silence.
I curled up, tucking my head on top of my knees. That's alright. I can be patient.
He's got to come out some time, right?
run away with me
John had a fantastic thing going with Vriska! And you weren't going to begrudge him that, not in the least. Your brother was a swell guy, really. Still. You couldn't help but feel that twinge of jealousy, at the thought of your own empty love life.
And then you met her.
She was the heroine to your hero, the clever lady who helped solve riddles and defeat monsters and magics and dragons.
And. Er. This was rather awkward, wasn't it?
She was Vriska's older sister.
You dance around Aranea for days, weeks, not knowing what to say to her, how tell her that her blue eyes were simply enchanting, that you longed to court her properly.
Eventually, Jade and John, both fed up with your moping and mooning somehow tricked you (those rapscallions! pranksters, the both of them!) into a blind date with the pretty lady.
It went rather well, actually. Maybe it sounds crazy, but maybe it could work.
(You still went bright red when she smiled at you the next day)
--------
[ Somewhere in Neverland – All Time Low ]
long live us
Dave's house is a hop, skip, and a jump away.
Literally! The best way to get there is climbing out my window, then sliding down the roof a bit. The big apple tree (it's a Newtown Pippin!) has branches that reach out, just brushing the top of the roof. Grandpa says it's a pain to clean out the gutters, which is why I took over!
And anyway, it makes for a very handy climb. So there's the hop. The skip comes when I scramble from branch to branch (quite nicely, if you ask me) and cross over to Dave's roof.
The jump would be when I have to climb up to his room! It IS tricky, but I have gotten much better at it. Dave prefers to sneak over when he thinks I would not be paying attention, so that I miss out on seeing him scramble.
Karkat grumbles that it is silly and reckless, but how else would Dave and I watch the fireworks, together, or count all of the stars?
In freshman year, we had to learn lines for Romeo and Juliet. Dave sat in the apple tree to practice (he was nearly kicked out of the play for trying to rap Tybalt (Eridan did a MASTERFUL job) into submission) and I went into the BEST dramatics as I replied.
(I really ought to mention that Eridan won, and Dave sulked for days.)
[ The Reckless and the Brave – All Time Low ]
All Aglow
I do not trust her, and she does not trust me. It is a dance, a game, a thing we do to keep ourselves amused.
If I am being honest, I tend to think of myself being the good one, the player all cloaked in white. After all, she is the tyrant, the ruler, the chosen queen, is she not? How could I fail to be the hero?
To others, though, our game is simply a war between generals, overlooking a chessboard. We have taken our spots as queens, leaders of our own armies, and what should it matter if a pawn or two has an issue?
To others, our game is cruel. No matter that one side plays black and one side plays white, who cares who commits the slaughter when varicolored blood stains the land?
To us, this is one more delicate step in a dance of courtship. She and I are so flushed that we might not see straight, I suppose, but I have the layout of the game. Superior force will not defeat superior mind, Meenah Peixes.
from the diary of Aranea Serket
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[ Tyrant – OneRepublic ]
feels just like i dont try
Cocky. Conceited. A certified asshole, and a popular one at that.
Why the fuck Dave Strider was sitting at your lunch table, you weren't sure. But you glared at him over the top of your sandwich (corned beef on rye, thank you, Crabdad) anyway.
He didn't even try, that bastard, and they still lined up to eat out of his hand, like the stupid pigeons that followed anyone with a bit of food around at the park. How the hell did he do it? And why the hell did he have to try and pull it over here?
Your friends had budged up for him willingly enough, which only pissed you off more. He and Sollux had struck up some sort of witty banter, and Dave's arrival had brought his sister, Rose. Kanaya was already looking starstruck, and Nepeta had struck up a discussion about cats.
Hell, even Aradia had been happy to see him, and she had made Dave promise to look over some of her latest finds. Apparently they both liked collecting dead shit. Tavros followed Aradia's lead, and part of you was glad that Terezi was working on her assignment for AP Euro in the library.
At least it couldn't get any worse, you decided, as you finished off the last of your sandwich. He had sat across from you, sure, but it wasn't next to, and you ate the fastest of anyone. Which meant that you could sneak off to the library. Not that you were running, fuck that noise, you were just. Planning to get some homework done early. Yeah.
...like anyone would buy that load of crap.
It didn't even work, he followed you, that son of a shit."What the hell do you want from me, you self-aggrandizing, ego-bloated, sack of shit?"
"Damn, Vantas, if you keep trying to sweet-talk me, people are going to wonder about the two of us." You snarled at him in reply, and he caught your hand as you tried to turn away. "Shit, sorry, that's not what I'm here for."
"Then what the hell ARE you here for, Strider." Your eyes narrow (and you curse your lack of height) before takes your hand in both of his and holds it. This is something out of one of your goddamn romance novels.
"You."
Fuck he's cheesy. You're so going to regret this.
--------
[ Everybody Loves Me – OneRepublic ]
did you say
He was a hard to break habit. Every second of his time was scheduled, everything thoroughly planned and accounted for, and most of the time, you were not sure you could live up to him. Meticulous as you were, it wasn't enough.
Not for Dirk Strider.
He was passionate, he was jealous. He made you nervous, at times, and dizzy, at others. You, so calm and steady—after years of sweats and panics in high school—he made you dizzy.
You wanted so desperately to please him. How on earth could you ever find another like him? That was not healthy, you chided yourself often, to feel so consumed by another. There was no fighting it, though. It was a long lost battle.
Still. It was fair. You wanted him, after all, and you got him, as oddly as he made you feel. Perhaps some battles were worth the loss after all.
--------
[ All To Myself – Marianas Trench ]
waiting on this for a while now
That damned cat.
You're going to, to...fuck, okay, you can't hurt the stupid scrawny thing, but you could probably give it away to Nep or something, right? Yeah, that's a plan.
Save for Nep says he cries and screeches when you leave him with her for longer than a week, and that if she tries to comfort him, he refuses to eat and tries to run away.
So Nep's out, fuck.
Fef's your next option, that stupid thing loves Fef, and you're half sure he does it to spite you. Still, she could probably take the thing in.
Only Fef says he pines and snuggles and she's pretty sure he's been staring at her ass. Why the fuck would a cat stare at—okay fine it's Fef's ass, but it's a cat.
Anyway, Fef's out.
The little demon seems to like Ter, and that's the next thing you try. But she complains that he looks so lonely and depressed, that he must be missing you.
Whenever they dump the little ingrate back on your doorstep, he doesn't look the least bit upset.
And now the bastard's sleeping on your cape.
Maybe you should sell him for dumplings.
Sollux (the cat, of course) looks up at you, and goes mrt mrt mrt, which you're sure is cat for laughter.
--------
[ On Top of the World – Imagine Dragons ]
it isn't that hard
I have always been envious of her, if I'm being honest! She has freedom. She has choice! A moirail who cares about her, a lusus who isn't a threat. You have no idea. But you're a princess! some have told me, A princess or nearly as good!
Why the glub should that matter? I want freedom, I want choosing! And a moirail who cares, and a lusus who isn't a threat!
So I was envious, even when I played with her online, even when we chatted of silly things.
When we met, though, things changed.
She was funny! She was kind and sweet and fierce and brave, and despite the fact that the first thing Equius said when we met was "treason" she swore that I could count on her.
"Count me in, Fefurry!" Her eyes lit up, and Equius gave a resigned sigh. He couldn't leave Nepeta alone. "We'll take the whole empire by storm, I'm sure of it!"
Did you know that jealousy turns into a flushcrush rather easily? I didn't. This is going to be really hard to explain.
--------
[ Dear Maria, Count Me In – All Time Low ]
it took a lot to take you home
It took a lot to take her home.
Not that Mama or Porrim would mind much, but, oh, she had never brought anyone home before, especially not someone like Rose Lalonde.
They had met at a bar.
No, wait.
They had met at one of her book signings, where Kanaya blushed as the rather pretty author had spent longer talking to her than anyone else. It took her about a week to find the phone number tucked into the back of her book (so maybe she read a little slow), and she would have dithered over calling it for at least a week more.
Save for the fact that she showed up at Mama's dress shop that very night, with a polite sort of smile that sent the oddest flutters through her heart.
Mama had her help with pinning, until she noticed the trembles in her hands. Kanaya were grateful for any excuse to leave, and she offered to make tea and snacks.
Polite conversation passed, and Mama had to leave. "You didn't call," she murmured, over the top of her teacup.
"I, I only found the note today." The corners of her mouth quirked up into a smile.
"Then I suppose it is simply my luck that I found your shop." Kanaya nodded, though it wasn't luck. Mama was simply the best.
Still, that was to be the end of that.
Until she showed up in her favorite bar, dressed in—she would rather not think about it. This was the first conversation those two truly had, because she asked Kanaya very politely to keep her away from the alcohol.
And who was she to turn down the attention? Besides that, Rose was witty and smart, and she rather loved her turn of phrase. And her sense of fashion was impeccable.
The bar led to dates, to the opera, the theater, and the park. To anywhere and everywhere, really, Rose Lalonde's taste was eclectic and intriguing.
This was the first time Kanaya was bringing anyone home, though, and she was rather terrified. "It will be fine, dear." Rose soothed. "We have met before."
"How was I supposed to know we would be dating back then?"
Her lips quirked up into that same smile. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't, then," she murmured under her breath. "Let's go."
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[ Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't) – All Time Low ]
I'm not gonna write you to stay
"I won't." You'd been saying it more and more often lately, and you felt that little twinge of guilt each time you did. I won't change this, I won't do that, I won't be the one you want me to be.
You hadn't said that last one just yet, but it was only a matter of time. When had things gone so wrong? It had been jolly good fun at the start, it really had. Then he kept expecting you to do this or to say that, and even if he was right sometimes, you didn't much like having him try to predict what you would do.
It was worse when you didn't live up to his expectations, because he seemed to take it as some sort of fault on his part, in addition to mild annoyance with you. It was your life, and as much as you loved him, you bloody well didn't want to live with some puppeteer constantly trying to pull your nonexistent strings.
The whole idea of it was preposterous.
So you told him so. You wrote a Dear Dirk letter, signed and sealed it, and you left it on his desk. Then you packed up your bags and headed down to the bus stop. John or Jade or Jane could put you up for a time.
It was pouring rain. He came bolting out of that building, not even carrying an umbrella, and sprinted to catch you. Wait, he gasped, just wait, Jake, let me–
You cut him off. As much as you wanted to hear it, it wasn't going to help anything. Give me a reason to stay, and I'll come back.
He swallowed. Nodded. I will, Dirk promised. And you knew he would.
It gave you hope.
--------
[ Love Song – Sara Bareilles ]
I've made this mess
You don't know why you found yourself screaming at him, but you did. It wasn't you, fuck, you weren't the sort, and you both knew it, and the way he looked at you after he stood up, before he left the room, was vengeance enough.
You slumped back into your seat. He never yelled, and that made it worse. Your temper got the better of you, far too often, but he never yelled and you had no idea how to handle it. Cro shouted back, Da's bellows were legendary. Kar was all shouting, and Fef had a temper as bad as your own.
But he held it back, if you were the ocean's tempest and storm, he was the calm of the deepest freshwater pool.
And you didn't know how to handle it.
If only he'd say something, if only he'd shout back. You knew he got nervous, everyone knew, he'd soaked through enough shirts in high school. But when you got angry, he got quiet, and it hurt so bad once you realized what you'd said, what you'd done.
You were yelling again, about something stupid, something trivial. He stood up, and you knew what was coming.
Then his palms hit the table, a quiet sound that somehow shut your mouth and echoed through the room. When he looked at you, it was different.
Enough, he said, and you felt some kind of relief.
You're not very good at this whole talking it out thing, but you're willing to try. For him.
--------
[ Bad Day – Side Effects ]
(un)comfortable
You hit eighth grade, and you're suddenly uncomfortable around her. Prickly skin, prickly thoughts, who the fuck said puberty was allowed to creep up on you NOW, you had seen Kankri go through that shit and it was more unappealing than the way your mother and father constantly flirted.
Ninth grade was no better, not with those looks she kept giving you. What completely numbskulled asswipe said that was even legal? Probably her, what with her freaky justice fetish. Fuck, no, don't even go there. It was creepy, she was creepy, this whole damn THING was creepy.
How was it possible that tenth grade was worse? How? You had to deal with friends teasing and laughing and slyly pushing you two together. What had you ever done to deserve this? And she seemed to...actually enjoy this bullshit. It made no sense whatsoever. Had she taken leave of her senses entirely? Was this the result of one too many inhalations of fumes from whatever red thing had caught her fancy that day? Or had the entire poxrotted world gone completely mad, as you so often suspected it had?
Probably the last option. Fuck, it made the most sense.
Which was why eleventh grade bowled you over completely, when you kissed her in the middle of the quad. In the pouring rain. In front of the entire junior class.
Apparently insanity was catching.
he comes by it honestly
Tavbro's learning the ukulele and guitar, y'know? Motherfucking fine musician, he is. Kurloz says he comes by it honestly, his dad's good with whatever he picks up, and it's hardly surprising and all, big hands and big heart got to have a tune in there somewhere, right?
But damn if that don't make it hard to concentrate sometimes, when he's playing and singing all quiet-like, as if he don't think no one will noticed him any if he keeps it all soft and sweet and smooth.
Only people sit up and take notice when Tavbro plays, because he's got a sweet voice and sweet face, and it makes them sit up and take notice in ways that don't feel none too good for me.
He thinks it's silly, like it don't matter that they're suddenly all cooing over him and noticing what muscles he's built up from helping around and lifting shit. It makes a motherfucker jealous, if you know what I mean.
Only.
It's hard to stay jealous, when he keeps it soft and sweet. Because he plays louder when I'm around, see? And that feels better than anything, if you know what I mean.