#'silly what's the dumpster fire?'

[dirtytransmasc]

(modern got hc)

Theon let's Rickon play games on his phone just about whenever he wants and secretly loves scrolling through all of the terrible photos/videos the kid takes (even if it takes up all his storage).

[gyurul]

[passiveagressivepoet]

gay angel (confirmed) has taken over my brain

[samanthamulder]

The X-Files | Season 9 at a glance

[constantvariations]

It's kinda funny to me that so many people are up in arms about Neo's actions in C8 when it's easy for me to dismiss simply because that ain't Neo, yknow?

Like, Neo has never pussyfoot around murder. If she wants you dead, you gonna get dead. From Neo about to stab Yang while the latter is unconscious to Neo and Ruby falling through the void while Neo uses the visuals of Ruby's loved ones to try and weaken her enough for Neo to strangle her to death, Neo has always been fairly direct in her methods

So, it's difficult to reconcile that version of Neo with the one who would passively let her target take themselves out

Not to mention the semblance shift. Neo's semblance, Overactive Imagination, is illusions manifested via semblance glass. They shatter upon contact. Because they're illusions

That's the biggest deal breaker for me. Crwby changed her semblance so much she might as well be a whole ass other person. Fuck, it could've been an Afteran. It's not like Neo was needed here, especially with how easily she was discarded

Instead of illusions, Neo's new abilities seem to be... animorphing people/creatures she may or may not have met via semblance clones and allowing them sentience

Mcfucking what???

The point of illusions is they're not physical. It's not an actual transformation, but rather the aesthetic of one. This could have worked if they kept the semblance evolution to multiple illusions at once OR allowing physical transformation, either of which would have been super cool to see, but they pushed too far. There's too many upgrades that deviate so much from the original ability that it's a whole ass new power

So, immediately on her introduction, the og Jabber is killed(?) and in its place is... multiple Neo-Jabbers. Who can eat other creatures alive. And apparently desire to do so

McFUCJING WHAT

This implies that all her semblance clones of others have their own sentience. Which would never make sense when she never interacted with anyone in that torture scene besides Roman. Seriously why the fuck is Lionheart here? Give us nothing, king

Now, given that we are shown the stream of souls, what could have happened is the illusions were possessed by folks who needed to get a last word in, but that's not. what. happened.

Instead, we have the writers disregarding a character's inability to speak so they can brutalize a teenager in the stupidest way possible, and throwing away all logic of a fairly easy to understand power because it suits their plot needs

Riveting

[thegreatnpowerfulspuukiiz]

ik im months late but erm i just finished watching hazbin hotel omfg i’m so so so full of feelings i can’t even type all these ramblings bc holy frick it’s so so much. the songs?? the characters?? the development??? the AMAZING cAST?? the LOREEE?? THE ANIMATION??? i’ve been watching as people on twitter crapped all over this show for its writing and animation and comedy but i genuinely loved it. yeah there were jokes that weren’t my favorite and there were a few things that i felt were a little clumsy rewriting wise but idk why ppl on the internet hold this show to an insanely high standard and why they act like it doesn’t have any good elements?? as someone who watched the pilot ages ago, im genuinely so proud of how far the show’s come and i hope it only gets better from here!! im sure im gonna post more about it later when i calm down a bit, but im still super full of energy and emotions rn lollll.

i leave you with this pic of pookie until i return to yap some more.

[oleandersmusic]

(Mini intro post because my blog is dead)

I’m Oleander! Currently I am a musician, artist, animator, and professional chaos gremlin, pleased to meet you :D

My interests at the moment include whatever relatable memes I find and fan art of fnaf sometimes. I might post art on here but it’s unlikely it will be anything more than small doodles. For the most part I’ll be posting little snippets of lore/story ideas or rather text based things haha

[aylaaescar]

yet another 30 Rock joke: Zae and Bobby have broken up (yet again), Tina and/or Verda say good riddance, and Zae says “oh don’t say that, you know, he had some good moments”

and then it’s a montage of all the times Bobby got food

[uglygreenjacket]

On some level I feel silly for being so devastated by Ice Adolescence’s cancellation, what with the world a literal dumpster fire. But Yuri on Ice meant so much to so many. Representation. Beauty. Escape. Overcoming our image of ourselves. Love in its multiple forms.

And I think my partner said it best after watching YOI for the first time-

“I wish the world were more like that.”

[teaboot]

What are your favorite ship typings?

Dual Opposites: Visibly Unsettling Person who is actually quite normal X Charismatic and Likeable Person who is Deeply Unhinged

Apes Together Strong: All the skills and abilities of a single super-functional person split up between two or more people. Separately dumpster fires, collectively a power team

Kindred Spirits: Person who seems silly, dumb, emotional, and shallow X Person who seems stoic, serious, and cold, but who share core perspectives, hobbies, values, goals, etc. Room for a third who is straight down the middle of the road and seen as the Real Adult despite also being just like the other two.

Same Hat: Two or more people who are absolutely the same in every stupid way and feed off each other's energy like a wind-powered electric fan

Simp Shit: Person A is Always Super Fucking Pumped about whatever Person B is on about, even if Person B is accomplishing nothing at all. Person A is over-the-top and wrapped around Person B's pinky finger. Person B thinks it's adorable and appreciates the devotion, and in turn is doting in their own way. And it's not unbalanced- they're both very much into it. Better not to ask questions.

Thank God We're Normal: Two or more people who are both freaks of nature bit look to the other for support, reinforcing their belief that they are completely normal and everyone else is a weirdo. Eat oreos and chili together out of the same bowl and look at you funny for gagging.

Platonic Soulmates: Two or more people who are so comfortable around each other that they may as well be married. Past-the-honeymoon married. The kind of married where sometimes someone pisses with the door open and someone wears the other person's underwear and everyone occasionally piles into a single bed to nap and bitch about shit.

Comfortable Enemies: Two or more rivals or enemies who, at the end of the day, respect and understand one another despite their differences and share a certain code of ethics that they will begrudgingly cooperate to uphold, then go right back to being catty bitches afterwards

Listed in number but not in any particular order

[bratzforchris]

Inked Daisies (Chapter 5)

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 4 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Making out, suggestive acts and mentions (no actual smut), heartbreak, mentions of needles (piercing)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I'm sincerely sorry for the shitshow, dumpster fire from hell that this story is about to become 😇 Enjoy!

“How much would it cost me to get my nose pierced?” You asked Matt, spinning around in the spinny chair behind the counter of ThreeSixty Tattoo. “Do I get a friends and family discount?”

It had been a little over a month since the incident. Your relationship with Matt had been toeing the line consistently between friends and more. After the fight, you two had become closer, with you realizing that there was more to Matt than he let on, and with him realizing that he felt an almost magnetic pull to you. 

“Depends on how well you behave.” Matt didn’t tear his eyes from the design he was working on. 

“Will you pierce it now?” You wondered hopefully. 

Matt finally looked up, running a hand across his stubbled jaw as he looked at you. “Are you sure you want that?”

“Yes!” You leaped up out of the chair, heading over to the glass case that held the body jewelry and poring over the small, diamond studs. 

Matt shook his head with a chuckle, cursing the way the butterflies in his gut took flight at your cuteness. Your spontaneity was absolutely insane to him, but he was drawn to it. Despite his tattoos, nose ring, and six ear piercings, Matt was a rather indecisive person. He debated whether or not he wanted the tattoo or piercing for months. 

You pointed to a piece of jewelry inside the case. “I want that one.”

Before Matt could respond, you had crossed the room and sat yourself in one of the piercing chairs. The brunette wanted to argue, to say that maybe having someone you knew do your piercing wasn't a good idea, but he couldn’t find it in him to argue back. The light shining in your eyes, along with your small, happy dances as you waited were enough to get him to go to the ends of the earth for you. He shook his head, pulling out jewelry and carefully setting everything on a plastic tray, the way he would for any clients’ piercing. It was just because you were one of his best friends, he tried telling himself. That’s why he was giving you a spur of the moment piercing at eight pm on a Monday night. The only difference with this one was that there was no way he could fuck this one up. 

“What made you decide you randomly wanted your nose pierced?” Matt asked you, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. 

“Can I not just wanna be like my best friend?” You pouted adorably, looking up at him through your lashes. 

The blue-eyed boy gulped, trying to fight the blush creeping up his neck. “Who? Nick?”

“No silly,” You rolled your eyes, poking his stomach softly. “You.”

“I’m not your best friend.” he mumbled, wiping the skin around the piercing site with an alcohol pad. 

“But you are,” You insisted. “You really don’t give yourself enough credit, Matt.”

The brunette hummed, removing the piercing needle from the packaging and looking down at you. “Ready?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes carefully following Matt’s hand. He gave you a quick ‘1, 2, 3’ countdown, before expertly piercing your nose. You were surprised at how gentle Matt’s touch was, compared to the other piercers you’d had for your ear piercings in the past. Not to mention the fact that his light, gentle touch was a rather stark contrast to his gruff looks and demeanor. Before you knew it, Matt had inserted the jewelry and was handing you a hand mirror. 

“So, what do you think?”

“I think…” You smiled, turning your head from side-to-side and watching the way the small, diamond stud caught the light. “I think…I love it!” You squealed. 

Without thinking, you had thrown your arms around Matt’s neck, hugging him tightly. The brunette stumbled backwards slightly, shocking himself when his arms wrapped around your lower back tightly so you wouldn’t fall. 

“You really like it that much?” he asked, a shy smile on his face as he looked down into your eyes. 

“It looks perfect.” You hummed, a giggle escaping you. 

Matt didn’t know what possessed him to do it. Maybe it was the fact that all he had thought about since the fight that night was how much he longed to protect you. Or maybe it was the cute, overjoyed smile on your face at something as simple as a piercing. But really, he knew it went back further than that. It went back to the first time Chris had brought you home. He had been captivated by you; the way you were the exact opposite of himself in the best way possible, save for the way you also struggled to sleep, bringing the two of you together through art. 

Without thinking, Matt leaned down and kissed you. It was a kiss that held years’ worth of longing. The way that you didn’t even act surprised told Matt everything he needed to know. There had been so many signs leading up to the tension between you two, and until now, it was just a matter of who was going to break it first. 

As your legs wrapped around his waist, Matt cheekily slipped his hands under your ass, eliciting a moan from you. The blue-eyed boy used this as leverage to slip his tongue into your own mouth, meeting yours as a soft ‘hello’, rather than fighting for dominance. Your hands tangled in the soft curls at the nape of Matt’s neck as he kissed you, trying to show him all of the feelings you had been hiding (and denying) for so long. 

The brunette backed up against one of the piercing chairs, sitting down with you in his lap. “That was…wow,” he whispered. “I hope that was…what you wanted?” he asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as a blush crept up his face. 

“Shhhh,” You pressed a finger to Matt’s lips. “Less talking, more kissing. We have about eight years of romantic tension to catch up with.”

Matt chuckled at how bubbly you were, even in a moment like this. You never failed to speak your mind, and that was what drew him to you. You were just authentically you. “Mmmm, I better get to work, then.”

And with that, Matt’s kisses took off in a new direction. Gone were the sweet, gentle, and slightly unsure gestures from just a moment prior. Matt began to devour you like a man starved, sloppy, wet sounds echoing around the tattoo studio as he made out with you. The only pauses in his kissing were to slide his hands up under the silk of your pink blouse, blue eyes meeting your own. 

“Goddamn,” he whispered. “I love that nose piercing. Always gonna have a reminder that I did that, huh?”

You nodded, shifting yourself on his lap, which only drew a small whimper out of you. Matt chuckled, pulling you closer to himself and beginning to kiss you again, hands fiddling with the clasp of your bra. Both of you were so caught up in the moment, in the makeout, in each other that you didn’t hear the small bell above the shop’s door ring, oblivious to the person behind you. 

“...am I interrupting something?” Chris asked with an awkward cough. 

If it was possible for a human’s face to show every emotion, the youngest triplet at that moment would’ve been the perfect example. He looked smaller than normal, dejectedly holding a takeout bag from the local Greek restaurant down the street. Everything from shock to anger was clear on his face as he stood there. 

“Shit,” You cursed at the same time that Matt murmured a rushed “fuck”. You quickly moved off of each other, awkwardly adjusting your clothes and fighting both of your blushes. “It’s not what it looks like…” You suggested in a manner that seemed like a terrible lie. 

“No. I got what it looks like,” Chris dropped the bag onto the reception desk with a thud. “How long have you two been linking up behind me and Nick’s back?”

You gulped, the thought of what you and Matt making out could do to your friend group just now crossing your mind. Matt stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest, looking Chris up and down. 

“That was the first time, bro. I swear. We didn’t even…y’know. Why the fuck do you care anyway?”

“Why do I care?” Chris asked, a sarcastic sneer on his face. “Oh gee, I dunno, Matt! Maybe because I just found you essentially tongue fucking my best friend?”

“I wasn’t tongue fucking her!” Matt shot back. “We kissed, Chris. Stop being dramatic.”

Without another word, Chris turned on his heel, slamming the shop door behind him. You and Matt were both frozen in place, the events of the last fifteen minutes entirely too much to process. Never, in all your years of friendship, had either of you seen Chris truly angry. There had been times where his temper got the best of him, or where he would act angry towards his brothers for fun, but there was never a moment where he was anything less than bubbly. 

“I should probably go…” You mumbled, digging your bus pass out of your tote bag to avoid meeting Matt’s eyes. 

“Yeah…” Matt had turned his back to you, cleaning up the mess from your earlier piercing to keep his hands busy and his emotions at bay. 

Normally, it would’ve taken you at least fifteen minutes to say goodbye to your friends, whether or not they were with their brothers. This time though, you immediately fled the shop, heading towards the bus station on the corner. You should’ve thought about the consequences of kissing your best friend’s brother in a public area, especially when said friend had 24/7 access to that area. You should’ve kept your feelings for Matt shoved down in the dark pit of your emotions where they belonged. 

You watched as Matt’s sleek, black car drove past the bus stop. The driver’s side window rolled down and Matt slowed to a stop, like he wanted to say something, but nevertheless, he shook his head, rolled up the window, and peeled off down the street. You didn’t even want to think about the damage that the past 45 minutes had caused to not only your friendship with Chris, but with the other two triplets as well. The bus pulled up your stop, and just like every other night, you were the sole passenger at this one. You sat down in a seat near the back, sliding your headphones on and leaning back against the headrest. Maybe if you closed your eyes hard enough and let your music sweep you away, all of this would just disappear into a far-off dream. 

You would talk to Chris eventually. You knew that stumbling in on you and Matt making out when he had just stopped by to deliver dinner was not the ideal way to find out that your brother and your best friend had feelings for each other. You wouldn’t lose him, not like this. That boy had been there for you more than anyone you had ever known. From your parents' rather messy divorce to your dreams of starting your own flower shop, Chris had been there for you. He was your biggest supporter, cheerleader, and fan of all time. 

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: my taglist is now closed<3 thank you all so much for your support!!

[euovennia]

hcs for reader getting carried away on a mission and getting tipsy and becoming the life of the party with the 141s reaction *smirk*

the fact you all can come up with such gorgeous ideas such as this one and then put your faith in me to write it out is something i'll never understand, but am eternally grateful for. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: mission gone wrong, little tidbits of angst, reader being a comforting menace to the 141

summary: after the team arrives back to base from a mission gone wrong, you decide to step in with the best comfort known to man.

despite their aching bodies and exhausted faces, the 141 members begin to steadily file into the commons room after wrapping up their much needed showers. unified by their equally low and sour moods after a mission had gone horrifically wrong, they all come to a silent agreement to not discuss the mission. there'd be plenty of time for that when everyone had gotten the proper amount of rest. with price, gaz, soap, and ghost now all sitting in the room doing their own thing, no one really gives anything a second thought. that is, until price brings up the absence of you to the rest of the team. despite knowing you probably just made the decision to take a longer shower, they each can't help but feel a sliver of worry and doubt file into their minds.

had you locked yourself away in your room in a poor attempt to stop thinking about the horrors of the mission they'd failed?

had they somehow left you behind?

a dumb question, maybe, but they can't help but worry.

that is, of course, until you burst through the door of the commons room with a wide smile split onto your face and a full three bags of alcohol.

john price

personally, i don't think price is the type to drink very often simply because he has a more refined taste

this man has had his fair share of alcohol in his life so i feel like he's very picky when it comes to alcohol

like if you were to have a drink with him, he'd be the type to make you take small sips and hold whatever you're drinking in your mouth for a few seconds before swallowing

he'll say it's the best way to "experience the flavor"

meanwhile you're just trying to get wasted

anyway

that's not to say he'll turn down a drink simply because it doesn't meet his tastes; if he wants to drink, he's gonna drink

so when you barge into the common area with some cheap beer and liquor he's not complaining

what does make him want to complain however is when you stumble your way over to him and yank his beloved boonie hat right off his head and place it on yours

he's not quite sure what to think and he even opens his mouth to start questioning you, but then you do the unthinkable

you lean toward him, drop your voice, and start impersonating his fucking accent

it's nothing special really

just a simple, "Bravo six, going dark"

and as much as he wants to rip his hat off your head, drag you back to your room, and force you to go to sleep

he just can't

not when you've just hit him with the most atrocious british accent known to man

and the fact you're trying to impersonate him of all people?

he can't help but let a laugh slip past his mouth

you, obviously, love the fact you made your oh so stoic captain price break and so you continue your exceptionally bad impersonation of the poor man

and he just eats it up

maybe it's the alcohol flowing through his system, maybe it's fact this is the first distraction he's had since that dumpster fire of a mission ended

but he can't help but get into it and encourage you by telling you to say random, silly things in your terrible accent

it's comforting in a weird way

being able to laugh so freely even after the horrors of the last mission

it's hopeful in a weird way

so when you give him a small, drunken smile and say you're leaving to bother someone else

he just gives you a smile of his own and pulls you into a side hug before letting you depart to someone else

but just as he lets you walk away, it hits him

you still have his hat

john 'soap' mactavish

now soap, like price, also has his preferences when it comes to alcohol

they all do tbh

but he's younger and more easygoing about it so he doesn't really mind chugging down the cheap bottle of tequila you grabbed

that being said, i do think soap takes on a bit of a different persona after coming off a mission

i feel like he's more energetic and upbeat on the field simply because there's always so much going on and he thrives off the adrenaline rush

but i fully believe it's typical of him to be a bit more laid back and quiet off missions, at least at first

and that's when a mission goes good and is successful

in the event it doesn't go so well (much like now) he has a tendency to go back and think about the mission in terms of what could've been done better

in other words, what he could've done better

and while he may not notice it himself, he'll eventually fall into a small pit of self-deprecation

that's when you stumble over to him with your lips curled into a smile and price's hat lopsidedly settled on your head

he's not quite sure of your intentions at first so he'll just offer you a kind, but hesitant smile

then you'll say something like, "why are you giving me that fake smile?"

and he can't help but feel a little ashamed

he goes to say something, but you just put your drink on the table and wrap him in a hug

and, of course, he hugs you back (although he is a bit confused)

but he enjoys it

what can he say? you always give good hugs

you'll stay like that for a few minutes

but then you start to sway the two of you

he'll get confused and ask what you're doing

and then you pull back and tell him something like, "i wanna dance"

and soap being soap will say something like, "there's no music"

and for some unknown reason that just set you off

because in the blink of an eye, you're pretty much dragging soap up from his chair while holding one of his hands and chanting out, "spin me! spin me!'

and who is he to deny you?

that's how you and soap end up spinning each other around while the rest of the team watches on with silent laughter as you both try to fight off the dizziness so neither of you fall

unsurprisingly, it doesn't work for long

surprisingly however, it was soap that fell first and not you despite being tipsy

so now you're both sat on the floor with you rambling to soap that, "sometimes it's okay to fall! you just gotta get back up!"

and unbeknownst to you, he takes your words to heart

so now you're being smothered by soap as he wraps you up into a bear hug, his specialty

you'll stay like that on the floor for a bit longer before you catch gaz scrolling away on his phone not too far from you and soap

so you pull back and give him one of your signature grins as you motion over to the unsuspecting gaz

and when he turns back to you with a smile mirroring your own, you know exactly what you plan to do

kyle 'gaz' garrick

as mentioned above, gaz is simply scrolling on his phone when you and soap set your sights on him

as a soldier, one really important quality is being aware of your surroundings

gaz knows this and is really good about remaining vigilant both on and off missions

but he tends to be a little more lax when he's on base simply because he knows the place is jam packed with people who are quite literally licensed to kill

so it's because of this he sometimes get a little too wrapped up in his phone

price hates it, but really, what can you do?

he's young and likes being up to date on things, both in terms of pop culture and world news

side note, gaz would definitely be the best gossip buddy with soap coming in a close second and i will die on this hill

anyway

with gaz so wrapped up in his drinking and scrolling, he barely notices you and soap not so stealthily sneaking up to his table and planting yourselves across from him

eyes still planted on his phone, he reaches his hand out only to find that he can't seem to find purchase on the bottle of beer he'd opened not too long ago

cue him finally looking up from his phone just to see you and soap staring at him with huge smiles while you hold his half-finished bottle of beer hostage in your hands

much like the others on the team, he too is feeling the not so pleasant after effects of the mission so he's quick to put his phone down and stare back at you two with a glint of curiosity and mischief dotting his brown eyes

with all your sense of rationality dulled from the alcohol, soap's natural talent for getting into trouble, and gaz's carefree spirit, it doesn't take long for you three to start embarrassing yourselves

before any of you can really register what's happening, you each find yourselves leaned up against one another as you belt out the chorus to berlin's 'take my breath away' as the song plays from the speaker of gaz's phone

how you three ended up in this position? you're not quite sure

well

it may have had something to do with the extra shots of the fruity vodka you'd grabbed from the store shelf

maybe

but really, who even cares?

you're just happy to be here

and if the easy smiles plastered on the faces of the men beside you are anything to go by, they're happy to be here too

though right now they seem to be too busy fighting over a new song to sing along to

gaz wants '22' by taylor swift while soap is begging for the 'wellerman' sea shanty that went viral not too long ago

how he even knows about that, you're not sure

but as they continue to bicker over the next song they'll be singing along to, you look out the corner of your eye to see price stalking over, his gaze locked on the phone gaz and soap are fighting over

already knowing where this situation is heading from the few times it's happened before, you decide to get ahead of the situation

and by that, it just means you quickly detach yourself from the two men as you set your sights on someone else who just so happened to be brooding in the corner

simon 'ghost' riley

so by now i imagine that it's pretty common knowledge amongst the 141 that simon has a preference toward bourbon whiskey

so naturally you grab him a bottle of it while you were out filling up a cart with various types of beer and liquor

and if i'm being honest, i feel like ghost isn't too picky with what brand of whiskey you grab so long as it's bourbon

so when you stumble your way over to him, you're not at all surprised to see him shamelessly hogging the bottle of jim bean you specifically brought for him

what does surprise you is when he pushes out the seat beside him with his foot as he gives you a small nod of his head in a small gesture for you to take a seat

with the room starting to spin ever so slightly, you easily comply with his silent demand

you two sit in silence for a few moments before you sit up and reach for the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table

ghost doesn't seem to be on board with your line of thought however because this man does not hesitate in snatching the bottle from your eager hands before screwing the cap back on and setting it beside his chair on the floor

you just kinda stare at him with a mix of annoyance and betrayal as you say something along the lines of, "what the hell was that for?"

and this is where he just kinda narrows his eyes at you for a moment before motioning over to the middle of the room where gaz and soap are belting out the lyrics to 'hotel california' by the eagles while price seems to be taking a video of the two of them, a wide grin peeking through his well kept beard

once ghost is sure you've gotten a good look at the trio he'll turn back to you and say something like, "you're not roping me into any of that, no drinkin' when you're with me."

and as much as you wanna try to fight him on it to get just a few more sips, you eventually decide it against it and instead opt for slumping into your seat much to his amusement

the two of you sit and watch as price tries to reign in the mess that is gaz and soap before he eventually gives up in favor of capturing more videos on his phone he can use as future blackmail

the atmosphere gradually melts into a more peaceful one as gaz and soap begin to quiet their singing and move onto slow love songs that they seemed to have memorized by heart judging by the way they barely even look at the lyrics

who woulda thought

but it's at this moment ghost decides to make a comment

"you snuck a lot of alcohol over here"

and it's true, alcohol was strictly prohibited on base, it was something you and everyone else in that room knew

but having sobered up a bit since sitting with ghost you immediately thought he was gonna go into a lecture despite him hoarding a whole bottle of whiskey to himself

so naturally you open your mouth to offer your defense, but before you can even say anything he decides to cut you off

"not a bad move, kid"

wait what

you're confused

and he knows you're confused so he decides to elaborate, "place was dead 'fore you walked in with all that beer and liquor. you made 'em smile"

you frown, "what do you mean?"

he'll sigh and continue, "s not a secret that mission was fucked. thought you were all gonna have a hard time sleepin' tonight," he motions to the space where gaz and soap appear to be serenading price with god knows what song, "but that doesn't seem to be the case anymore, i think you'll all be alright now"

you tilt your head, "oh...i see"

the silence drifts over you two once more, but you decide to disrupt it

you turn to ghost with a questioning gaze, "what about you?"

he raises a brow as he glances at you, "what about me?"

you turn to face him fully, "are you gonna be alright?"

his movements come to a halt as he thinks your words over

would he be alright?

it's no secret that he's a bit more cold hearted than the rest of the team, but that doesn't mean he's no affected by any of it

he holds in a sigh as he glances over to gaz, soap, and price all smiling and joking around with one another before turning back to you

"long as you stick around, i think we're all gonna be okay, kid."

you grin at him

"i've grown on you, haven't i?"

he breathes out a small laugh, "i only keep you around for the whiskey"

you nudge his arm with your shoulder, "that's a yes, isn't it?"

he shrugs, "if you want it to be"

he holds back a small smile at the way you gleam before opening his mouth to speak, "you say anything to anyone and i'll–"

he doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before you're bouncing off your seat and running over the group of three in the middle of the room chanting, "ghost said i'm his favorite!"

he leans back in his chair as he watches gaz and soap feign heartbreak at your declaration while price shakes his head in amusement

"no big deal," he thinks to himself, "i can always deny it"

even if it's completely true

[utdrmv-confession-box]

Transcript: i think the fandom was genuinely better before 2020. or at least 2021. maybe i see nostalgia through rose-tinted glasses, but 2015-2019 was the best era of this fandom. people say cringe and free but there’s a difference between unknowing cringe and acknowledged cringe, and the former is just more genuine. more fun, more free. things were better, in my eyes. now there’s useless discourse (there was, of course, discourse then, but now people have wrapped morals into it. you’re not a bad person who wants to abuse people if your favorite character is canon nightmare sans, god), even worse fanon that people have dubbed as canon (dream is not an uwu baby, yes, but going in the entirely different direction and making him a mean smoker is just as fanon and inaccurate, you’re no better, so get off that pedestal), and just the bullying that comes with liking older interpretations.

blueberry is fine. uwu star sanses are fine. slendermansion bad sanses are fine. teddy bear horror is fine. any interpretation is fine. but there’s art left and right of people drawing characters punting those other interpretations whilst the creators themselves continue to make their own interpretations that are the same, if not worse, levels of inaccuracy and mischaracterization. it’s hypocrisy and i don’t doubt that in four or five years this era of the fandom will be mocked and a new, just as wrong interpretation will emerge. i don’t mind this, you can characterize anyone however you want. that’s what makes this fandom great. it’s just the fact that this is combined with the bullying of other interpretations that makes it hypocritical and me upset. not even to touch upon the new fanon of “sans would show no emotion of papyrus died”. in an attempt to move away from one side of the spectrum they went too far to the other, rather than settle upon the perfect balance.

in general i also grieve what will never come back. the style of older popular artists drawing sans, that line weight jakei and superyounma used that pulled the style together, the obsession when dream and nightmare became truly popular, the formation of the star sanses, the overuse of the word ‘senpai~’ when it came to crossmare, the comic dub movies on youtube, or how everyone obsessed over sans and made him overly edgy and emotional. the animation memes, the genuine sans fangirls, not the satire ones. ichika. the othertale animations. early underverse and the silly comics jakei made for it. the terrible wattpad fanfiction. amino. actually, we can leave out amino. i don’t miss amino.

it wasn’t all perfect. if i’m honest, it was a dumpster fire in a lot of ways. but it was my dumpster fire, and what once burned became nice and toasty. the fandom now is great, don’t get me wrong. i love how it’s turned out, i love how characters are no longer white anime boys and how people have begun to acknowledge how certain things are bad, rather than ignoring it. how underrated characters have been getting more attention.

but if i had to pick between the fandom now and the fandom then, i’d pick then in a heartbeat.

[gunnrblze]

Roommate!Hesh

Hello friends. This is my first actual lil piece of writing I’m posting (in this fandom, on this account lol). I’m debating turning it into a full fledged fic, so if you’re intrigued by that I’d love to know! Not to abase myself or anything, but my writing is quite mid lmfao, I just enjoy my silly thoughts n ideas so here you go :)

•1k+ words, SFW, could possibly be read as some slight stalker-ish behavior if you squint, but nothing actually dark like that! The man is just down bad :(

You weren’t exactly sold on living with a stranger yet. Especially not some army guy, but you had little choice.

Desperately needing a roommate after moving to Santa Monica, a friend mentioning a friend of theirs who has a brother. A brother who happens to be looking for a roommate too.

You trusted your friends judgement enough to pursue the recommendation. Figuring that living with a special forces soldier could either be pleasantly uneventful, or a dumpster fire, based on what you knew of the type.

But David, or Hesh as everyone reportedly calls him, was decent. Clean, respectful, kind when he toured you around the apartment. The near boyish charm that laced itself between his heavy presence may have caught your attention.

But a fling, especially with a new roommate, was not what you needed.

Your room was smaller than his, but having gotten to the apartment second to him, you understood first come first served. You just enjoyed the in-unit washer and dryer and stainless steel appliances, if you were being honest.

The apprehension you had, the hang ups of starting a new chapter, moving in with someone you only just met through a friend of a friend, started to dissipate sooner than anticipated. Instead filled in by a dull surprise.

Hesh worked pretty often, but even when he wasn’t around, it’s as if he were still there.

His section of chores always finished, some of yours even started or done completely for you. You asked him about it after divvying up the household responsibilities, making sure you weren’t confused.

But he insisted it was “no biggie”, he’d just found himself taking the trash out on his way to work. Tidying the kitchen up after he got home in the middle of the night and cooked himself an impossibly late dinner.

Said dinner he left in the fridge the next morning, a sticky note on top explaining that you should finish it up so it doesn’t go bad.

Leftovers usually kept for days though, didn’t they?

His boots by the front door, the smell of his aftershave somehow lingering everywhere throughout the apartment, his hat left in the bathroom and the goddamned coasters that he insisted be used around the living room.

When he wasn’t there, it felt like he was. A ghost permeating the walls. His broad frame, tall and wide, voice deep, green eyes that somehow always landed on you when he was near. They weren’t quite unsettling eyes, they were penetrating. As if he could see what lie inside you, too.

But when he was there, it felt almost arresting. Interrupting. You barely knew him, only lived with him for a few weeks.

But you weren’t sure whether you could tell if it even felt that way anymore.

Anything he bought, you were free to use or eat. Was he just that nice? Your old roommates wouldn’t let you touch their things with a 10 foot pole. But what was his seemed to be yours in a way, too.

You chalked it up to him being an eldest child. But you weren’t merely being treated like a younger sibling.

Your Netflix subscription ended and you didnt want to spend the money to renew it, but it didn’t matter because Hesh had Netflix too. Which meant you had it.

Hesh had every kind of household tool one could need in his toolbox, which meant that you had them now too.

Except you couldn’t use them. Because he’d fix whatever you needed. Hang up any picture frame of yours on your wall as you started to decorate your space. And you merely let him, somehow unable to insist that you could indeed, handle it.

It was only natural when he’d asked if you wanted breakfast one morning, explaining that he made too much food. Too much of your favorite food. Or when he not so subtly watched how you made your tea, filing it away in his brain so he could bring you a cup one day when you were sick in bed.

And then some cough drops. And soup. And cold medicine.

Maybe you felt a bit like a guest at a bed and breakfast, or maybe he was just raised decently.

When the washing machine broke, he took a look at it before you could even bring it up to him, was he listening to you in the laundry room? Hard to say. Fixed it so you could do your loads of laundry.

But not before letting you borrow a t-shirt of his, since all your clothes were dirty, of course. You’d obviously have to wash the one you had on, too.

You thought you were surely screwed when your car broke down outside of work one day. But when you texted Hesh and asked if he knew of a good mechanic. he was, naturally, already in the area just running errands.

So he took a look at your car while you stood to the side and watched. Making a point not to watch his biceps flex around the ring of his t-shirt sleeve, or the way he brushed the sweat off his forehead.

Surely you were paying attention to his explanation of the drive belt in your car being too wore out, and not the way his fatigues stretched over the meat of his thighs.

Why was he in his work uniform if he was just running errands? You didn’t think about it very much.

Your job had been stressing you so much, and it appeared something like second nature for him to wrap you into a hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back, murmuring things that seemed too dulcet for a roommate of hardly even a month to soothe you with. Even though it helped.

He was always there, his magnetism suffocating. But not in the way that two hands might feel around your neck. But in the way the sunshine feels beating down on you. The way you feel tipsy before feeling fully drunk, charged but blissful.

Pleasantly inescapable.

You didn’t really stop to fully question his comforts though, not when he made you a cup of tea and put a movie on in the living room, sitting a bit too close to you.

Not that you minded of course, considering you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

And what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t pick you up and tote you off to your bedroom? He knew you were half awake, and you knew he knew, but it didn’t matter.

With one arm hooked under your knees and the other around your back, your face that didn’t need to be pressed to his chest, it just didn’t matter.

Because what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t lay you in your bed and cover you up, setting your alarms on your phone so you’d wake up the following morning?

How did he know your passcode? How did he know exactly what alarms you set?

It didn’t really matter to you after he kissed your head goodnight.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

A repost of something that I wrote, and put on my second account before here :)

Eddie was crouched on the curb of the building when one of the back doors to the mall suddenly flung open. He was behind the mall near the dumpsters, so it wasn’t uncommon for people to slam the door with their legs while their hands were full of garbage bags. What was not normal, however, were the tiny shorts on this guy's ass.

There were no shorts that needed to be that short. Though it was the eighties, crop tops, and short shorts on men were a trend. That didn’t mean Eddie had to enjoy it. If anything, he enjoyed it so much that it did a full one-eighty into a bad case of loathing.

But this sailor, in his short blue shorts, maybe one in a million because Eddie's enjoyment was doing a full three-sixty on repeat. He’s pretty sure his eyes were doing that silly animated thing too, where they continuously popped in and out of his skull.

As he kept watching this fine-looking sailor, he noticed the other man struggling to carry three garbage bags in his two hands. His arms were visibly straining from the weight. The man was also purposely stumbling to the dumpster to avoid one of the leaking bags, leaving a trail of melted ice cream behind him. He was a walking disaster just waiting to happen and Eddie found himself slightly more into that than he had previously thought.

What can Eddie say? He has a thing for dumb men and nice asses. And this gorgeous, gorgeous fool in front of him was the epitome of dumbassery.

Eddie was so distracted by this man that his cigarette burned to the nub, and he wasn’t paying attention to the heat slowly beginning to reach his fingers. Not until it was too late did he notice the tiny lit flame against his skin. Some of the ash landed on his pants, hands, and even his favorite ‘Ride the Lightning’ tee.

“Fuck,” he yelps as he hops up and purposely drops the nub under his show to put it out. His right hand, which got burnt, was doing a dramatic jazz hand skit, while his left made a feeble attempt to brush off the ash. He then looks back up to see the sailor, who had been two-thirds of the way to the dumpster before Eddie did his small fire dance, was now looking at him.

From where he stood, Eddie could hear the other chuckling at him. Embarrassment washed over him before it slowly turned to anger when he finally comprehended who he was looking at.

Standing almost ten feet away from him was Steve Harrington, the same Harrington who was a complete douchebag in high school. Now, said douchebag was holding back soft laughter. The asshole even opened his mouth, probably to give Eddie shit, when the bag that had been leaking the entire way to the dumpster finally broke.

Ice cream and trash go everywhere, most landing on Steve's shoes and hairy legs.

Eddie doesn’t hold back the laughter that catches him by surprise, his anger leaving him before he can say anything too stupid. However, he quickly stops when the other boy's gaze falls back on him.

He’s afraid he’ll have to run away from a trash-covered king, but that fear quickly dissolves when he hears Steve's laughter slowly join his.

“I suppose that's what I get for being an asshole.” Steve comments, scrunching his nose in disgust as he steps out of the puddle of sour milk at his feet.

He looks back up, about to say something to Eddie, but the door he exited less than five minutes ago flings open. This time, a disgruntled girl with a slight bob and matching sailor suit emerges.

“Hey, asshole-” She stops mid-sentence, her expression morphing into disgust as she processes the mess surrounding Steve.

Eddie glances back at Steve who is now frantically moving much faster than before. He throws the garbage over the dumpster and quickly begins to pick up what he can, which isn’t much before he runs back to the girl at the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t see the bag was ripped until I was like five feet away from the exit, and I was hoping to get it all mopped up before you noticed, but the bag broke and–” Steve’s words were flying a mile per minute, each hitting his coworker in the face all at once.

Once again, Eddie is surprised by the boy's behavior and so is Robin, whose name tag he had managed to catch when she takes a step back from Steve. Who now reeked of garbage and seemed oblivious to this fact along with what personal space was.

“Ok, ok, I get it, dingus.” Robins's hand moves up in a stop motion. Both she and Eddie watch as Steve’s anxiety train slows down to a halt before it goes too far off the rails.

“We can get a janitor to clean it up or something, but I need you to get back in there before I piss myself. I’m having one of your kids watch the booth while we are away and I don’t think we have enough time to piss and get you cleaned up before they start robbing us clean.” Robin rambles out.

Eddie can’t help but think that the two were perfect for each other because they sure did ramble a lot.

Eddie’s existence is again ignored as the two sailors head back in. Before Steve is completely gone though, he sends a small finger wave Eddie's way.

And at that moment, Eddie decided he was going to loathe that boy's ass forever.

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Matching tattoos with the tokrev cast

Ft. Draken, Hanma, Mitsuya, Baji

Matching rings - Draken

Draken is nothing if not practical and loyal. Being pragmatic, and realizing he works with his hands in a messy, oily profession, he hardly wears even his wedding band. It bothers him more than it bothers you, but one day he decides enough is enough and opts to just tattoo a permanent band on his finger, with your initials on the palm side of his hand. He insists you don't have to follow suit but little does he know, you love the idea of his dragon tattoo on the scale of jewelery for your matching tattoo.

Bite marks - Hamna

He is cringe but he is free; never a slave to the fear of a goofy trend aging poorly. He takes you to the studio for moral support that you're well aware he doesn't need. He hasn't told you his idea. When his usual artist cuts to the chase and asks his chaotic friend what the plan is, Shuji only rolls up his sleeve and tells you to bite him as hard as you can. Of course. You laugh. You bite him and it's inked into permeance in his skin.

On the last few passes before he wipes shuji clean and wraps him up you catch the artist off guard and ask if he has time for another. So what if the world saw that some pair of idiots' love language was biting?

Each other's handwriting - Mitsuya

Mitsuya isn't shy about it. You're his favorite model and muse, the figure he sketches when he designs. To you, nothing feels more apropos than the thought of him signing your body the way he signs his sketches. For his, your habit of leaving him sneaky encouraging notes during stressful buyer weeks or fashion shows leave him awestruck by his luck to have nabbed you. He asks your permission to get your little letter sign-off tattooed near his wrist on his forearm. You agree on the condition that he agree to sign your skin.

Coordinating images - Baji

A dumpster, and a fire. A match box and a lighter. A possom and raccoon. A fork and a spoon. Bread and butter. If it's goofy and nonsensical, he's proposed it. Baji is the certified kind of silly bullshit tattoos and you won't convince me otherwise. Baji too, is cringe but free when it comes to his ink. I hope you are too bc one day he will wear you down and you will end up with some funny coordinating tattoo(s).

There may well be more parts