#and i was trying to weasel my way out of it. only that didnt work and the decisions he made he made for a reason and they have huge

[themyscirah]

This is technically a Diana's age poll but I framed it partially around Julia's rescue because that's the event I need to contextualize and whether or not Diana is a thing yet is p important for my purposes. I would keep the Pérez run and postcrisis continuity in mind when answering this bc that's when this is relevant but I'd keep in mind that even though Diana is very young there (like early 20s) we don't know I don't think if she ages differently as a child (esp as a themysciran AND being made from clay) and in some versions she is older than she looks and was made earlier

Edit: I accidentally logic-ed this out in the tags lol 🤦‍♀️but feel free to still vote however you want. Going to publish this anyway bc I think I made some good points later in my tags

[scoundrellyfeline]

great homestuck rereading discussion T+14 (Feb 24)

first last next

cw: flashing

SF 13:44 > just realized i have time rn

SF 13:45 > getting on that grind

SF 13:45 > do ya mind

SF 13:45 > with all this time that ive managed to find

SF 13:45 > i hope the next things are pretty kind

SF 13:46 > so lets get this shit down and wind

SF 13:47 >

SF 13:48 > cant remember if i finished reading through the newspost

SF 13:49 > [ressing issues like how to sedate an exceptionally lively weasel, and locating huge orange vegetables which may or may not have been misplaced.] must not have because im fairly sure that id have remembered this sentence lol

SF 13:50 > well the tutorial links dead rip

SF 13:50 > and so is the fancy santa... unless...

SF 13:50 > give me a sec. the wifi im using might be blocking it so ima use my phones hotspot rq

SF 13:51 > ok on the hotspot

SF 13:51 > lets take this again

SF 13:52 > crtl + r didnt even work

SF 13:52 >

SF 13:53 > blehhhh im just going to go on

SF 13:56 > pondering the orb...

SF 13:57 > [also, fix my bathroom.] so bossy

SF 13:57 > so this probably wont be that important... right? right???

SF 13:57 > hold on an S page is next

SF 13:58 > ooo Harlequin

SF 13:58 > nice

SF 13:58 > my ears are pleased

SF 13:58 > my eyes... could be better :PP

SF 13:59 > goofy ahh fleur de lis speaking clown

SF 14:00 > [EB: i still can't understand this thing's gobbledygook. TT: That was only "Tier One Prototyping". TT: There is still another tier to the prototyping process. TT: Which for all we know merely advances this entity through increasingly esoteric states of linguistics.]

love how these two interact

SF 14:00 > [EB: we don't have time for this asinine tomfoolery. TT: This unmitigated poppycock? EB: extravagant hogwash!] :PP

SF 14:01 > the perfectly generic object is a cuboid green square. not exactly perfectly generic, but i think i can see what the vision is

SF 14:02 > uhhhh buddy?

didnt we already go over this???

SF 14:03 > [The PDA is predictably jettisoned into the yard, over the neighbor's fence.] o7 (i guess were not getting this back, are we? stupid, stupid john!)

SF 14:04 > [Something is happening...] impossible

SF 14:04 >

SF 14:06 > [You set the ALCHEMITER to cast THREE (3) PERFECTLY GENERIC OBJECTS for some reason, expending a total of 6 units of BUILD GRIST. These things look completely useless. What a waste!] ...i mean, maybe you could use them as decoration? or imagination fort materials? i wouldnt say useless, per se...

SF 14:06 > [Out of the corner of your eye, you notice there's something in the sky.]

SF 14:06 > it isnt gonna be a bird, is it

SF 14:08 > oh shit... this cant be good

SF 14:08 > and wait... isnt that the timer we saw on the cruxtruder thingy?

SF 14:08 > ...i think i might have been right to be worried...

SF 14:09 > {brb checking where i need to read to again because its been a while}

SF 14:10 > {ok going back in}

SF 14:11 > [You're no astronomer, but its trajectory looks suspiciously head-on with your current perspective. This is a troubling development.] id

this... but i dont really want him to die! i love the goofy goober

SF 14:12 > [You figure you've left him hanging long enough.]

attaboy!

SF 14:14 > [It is tempting because they strongly resemble Rockin' Blue Raspberry Gushers. However, units of BUILD GRIST are a gaming abstraction and do not seem to exist on the physical plane!] i did actually try gushers a while ago and i didnt really like them. but ofc, this is the same kid that has an irrational hatred of cake. does this face look like the face of someone with good taste buds?

SF 14:15 > [There is apparently no crisis so imminent that will deter you from contemplating idiotic and frivolous actions.]

SF 14:15 > ooo page 200!

SF 14:16 > insane how were only... 40 days???? who is hussie???????? this is not a human workload holy crap

SF 14:17 > thats... (quick maths) 5 pages a day! what?!?!?

SF 14:17 > hussie literally cant be human. no way. i refuse to believe that they are normal and well rounded

SF 14:18 > uhh anyways dad has arrived back home

SF 14:19 >

SF 14:19 > good on her

SF 14:20 >

time to ground johns butt i think

SF 14:21 > completely forgot about TT expanding his room earlier

SF 14:21 > and two chums... ok, so obviously one is TT (id hope). is the other TG? he seems to enjoy the sound of his own typing a lot.

SF 14:22 > maybe the mysterious GG? whats up with them anyhow?

SF 14:23 > this is me, btw, if you even care

SF 14:23 > [EB: oh man who cares about the bathroom, now there's a meteor heading for my house!!!] at least hes got his priorities straight...

SF 14:24 > [TT: The walkthroughs vaguely suggest an impending threat before they end. TT: The already poorly constructed sentences become even more curt and ambiguous. TT: As if written hastily and with a sense of alarm. TT: Actually, their dedication to updating the walkthrough under such circumstances is admirable.]

TT ilysm <33

SF 14:25 > [TT: If I read any more my brain will need to be spoon-fed from a jar. TT: While it blows spit bubbles in a highchair.]

SF 14:25 > you know, TT and TG are kind of similar in that they talk alot, but they do have super different vibes in this aspect. id love to see how they interact with eachother

SF 14:26 > oh and speak of the devil

SF 14:26 > [TG: i heard you got the box TG: i hope you appreciate my heroic fatherly perseverance in getting it to you TG: in my rough and tumble dirty wifebeaterly sort of way TG: also i hope you appreciate how many no-talent douches had their mitts on that bunny before you TG: its like a grubby baton in some huge douchebag marathon] heheheheh :PP

SF 14:28 > is TG saying johns casey in this example? lol. now im just imagining john and dave in the end scene: TG: noo dont cry casey

SF 14:29 > i think despite his coolkid exterior he does seem to care a lot about john. like, he tries to put on a facade to the world but on the inside hes a genuinely good person. because if he was a genuine douche, TG wouldnt give john something that hed actually like

SF 14:30 > [TG: and for that matter you should probably wash your hands of flighty broads and their snarky horseshit altogether] grahhhh i need to see them interact NOW!!!

SF 14:30 > [TG: oh man TG: how big is it] amazing how he immediately believes john here. id have expected him to be more skeptical

SF 14:31 > [TG: like the size of texas TG: or just rhode island TG: theyre always throwing around these geographical comparisons to give us a sense of scale like it really means anything to us TG: but its like it doesnt matter its always just like: WOW THATS PRETTY FUCKING BIG TG: like mr president theres a meteor coming sir. oh yeah, how big is it? its the size of texas sir TG: OH SHIT TG: or, how big is it? its the size of new york city sir TG: OH SHIT TG: sir im afraid the comet is the size of your moms dick TG: OH SNAP TG: sir are you familiar with jupiter TG: you mean like the planet? TG: yeah TG: well its that big sir TG: hmm that sounds pretty big TG: i have a question TG: is it jupiter? TG: yes sir, earth is literally under seige by planet fucking jupiter TG: OH SHIT]

TG might be my favorite kid thus far lmaooo

SF 14:34 > idk why but i really want to see dads perspective of things. like, how does he think the tub got there? because like, john clearly didnt use is MANGRIT to lift it up or anything

SF 14:35 > also i love the return of the red ?

SF 14:35 > :PP

SF 14:35 > [The perfect crime.]

{hit 30 img limit rip >:<< (part 2)}

[rafeshow]

where a fan made an 10 minute video with a compilation of hasan and reader being in love.

just for clicks

hasanabi x fem!streamer!reader

tags : hasan being a bit of an ass, tension, lingering touches, angst, use of y/n (scary ik), this is a blurb (I can’t make more parts if ppl want it), basically just angst, nothing really from the readers pov

a/n : i’m pretty sure you were looking for a more sappy direction w this request, but i rlly couldn’t help myself and i made it angsty 😭. also this is my first fanfic on this acc so pls be nice to me 🙏 im not good w english. READ PART TWO HERE.

It was a regular streaming day for Hasan, for the most part. His typical bogging on about politics, random internet drama, and his frequent frustration at chat. Behind all that though, his mind was a fog. You; another streamer, having been friends with Austin, being introduced to the Fear& group, and all but weaseling your way into being a staple member of the friend group, was all that Hasan could think about. Austin had tried to set the two of you up when you were first introduced to the friend group, but you never ended up going on any serious or planned romantic ventures, the two of yous schedules preventing from such.

That’s not to say you weren’t interested in eachother, it was quite the opposite actually. It was unspoken between the two of you, literally. Minus talking on the podcast or short interactions in videos, you had never spoken outside of ‘work’. That didnt stop the tension from growing though.

It started as accidental; Hasan gently grazing the back of your neck when walking behind your chair during filming in the cramped podcast room, his warm fingers barely lingering for a second on your bare neck, followed by rushed apology. Then it was you; lightly holding his waist as you attempted to squeeze behind him during a cooking stream, still unable to get past without his backside brushing against your front to a degree. And those two accidental touches wouldn’t have been a problem if they had just stayed those two accidental touches. The two of you managed to bump into eachother enough times that it had you each questioning if the other person was doing it on purpose.

Hasan was the first to break the ‘accidental’ rule, having grabbed your waist firmly and practically picking you up off the ground to move you on one occasion. You followed suit with the rule breaking, leaning across him to grab something from QT while filming the podcast and intentionally resting stretched for a moment; your top half shelved atop his forearm as it laid flat on the table.

The two of you refused to do anything about it though, and it was driving you both mad. Each touch was getting more daring then the last, and it was a game of who was going to break first. You were mad because you thought he was intentionally toying with you; knowing it drove you mad whilst not being interested himself. Just doing it to mess with you. Hasan on the other hand was just generally pissed you hadn’t done anything yet, which was ironic considering he didn’t have the gall to do anything himself either.

It was all that Hasan had been thinking of that day, and he questioned that if his facecam didn’t cut off at the top of his head that chat would be able to see the steam emanating from it. He was beyond frustrated, but he found it easy to play off; opting to take his anger out on the idiots who left comments on his livestream.

The two of you hadn’t thought about what your predicament looked like from an outsiders perspective though, not until now atleast.

Hasan was watching some political interview; mostly letting it play while opening links from chat in other tabs. As he opened one in particular, his heart stopped. He quickly clicked back to the tab, his brows taught together as he re-read the title.

“No fucking shot.” He forcibly laughed out, not only in disbelief himself but also trying to play his reaction down a bit for the stream. It was a compilation video, titled “y/n and hasan being down bad for 7 minutes”.

He was shocked he hadn’t thought about it, honestly. He was so concerned with keeping his feelings down while streaming by himself that he hadn’t even considered how he looked when he was actually with you. He clicked play without a second thought, his brain still registering the situation at hand. He had to stop himself from letting a grin slip out.

He watched the whole video without saying anything, which was alarming for chat and him. He was just entranced at how painfully obvious the two of you made it. The way he stared at you as you spoke to someone else. The way you never looked at him when he spoke to anybody. The way he stared at your hands as you fidgeted with a mic cord. The now obvious touches. He was baffled.

But his emotions quickly flipped back to his previous frustration. All that has been going on and you still hadn’t done anything? The two of you still hadn’t even talked? You had interacted this way long enough for somebody to make a 7 minute long compilation and the two of you still hadn’t done anything? He turned to chat, decided to take it out by being defensive.

“It’s actually hilarious the shit you idiots come up with. You do realize we’ve never talked right? The little shit we’ve said on camera is all we’ve ever said to eachother. Ever. I don’t even know her actual name. I don’t even have her in my contacts. I’ve never even thought about her in that way. You guys are so apt on shipping every male and female to ever interact together, it’s disgusting. You guys are fucking weird.” He took a beat, knowing the shit he was saying was doing anything but help his case, and knowing the hole he was digging for himself was just getting deeper. The few excuses he could come up with were borderline pathetic and certainly laughable. He just hoped he said his words fast enough that none of it stuck, even though he could practically feel the clips getting posted to twitter. In a last stitch effort to save himself, he blurted out;

“And anything she’s ever done around me is just for fucking clicks anyway.” He closed his mouth immediately after saying it. Hasan knew how much of a low blow that was, he knew how much he defended other streamers in the space for the same shit, and he couldn’t believe he’d just let that out about you of all people. He knew then in that moment that he’d lost all chances of anything with you, and he couldn’t grasp the fact that he was able to royally fuck himself over in a matter of seconds. He sat there silent, grumbling something else about chat being stupid, and then he went back to his political video.

He tried to keep a stone face, but he couldn’t help as his eyes caught chat every few minutes, mixes of shock and anger still bubbling between all of them. Hasan tried to redeem himself as much as he could; making some jokes and throwing some insults at whatever video he was watching. The main mass of the shocked comments eventually fizzled away, but he ultimately ended up wrapping up stream after another 30ish minutes. All he could do now was watch as everything unfolded before him.

[tysonfurybattlepass]

I understand I already yelled a little in the tags under your most recent art, but I feel the need to yell still. Spades is 10 feet tall or larger. Massive. Curled up on the throne like this, in an empty space, he looks average sized or even small. His face is contorted into a scowl, but there's an element of something else there, an element of pain, sadness perhaps? As deadbeatdadjokes pointed out, he still keeps hold of the crown, even when he's trying to rest. Of course the throne is torn. The throne is torn apart. His life is torn apart. He can't escape from this even when he's trying to rest. His hatred follows him everywhere, constantly. As you said, he needs a melatonin to forget about his war crimes for a few hours. The only time he's peaceful.

Yeah, your art put me in a mood I just had to give you this mess and I am supposed to be asleep right now but I am not 😎

I AM HOLDING YOU SO GENTLY IN MY HANDS LIKE A BABY BIRD RIGHT NOW.

while i absolutely love hearing other people’s interpretations of what’s going on in my work, the emotion i drew into this image on purpose is fear.

i think what really captures me about this abhorrent character is the inherent and oxymoronic fragility of his position at the top of the food chain. apex predator is not an easy title to maintain for any significant period of time.

he is such a control freak to an unsustainable extent and so, so obsessed, he’ll gladly poison or trample everything and everyone around him with his own corrosive drive toward revenge until there’s nothing left. he knows everyone wants him gone. he knows theyre waiting for an opportunity to reenact that scene from lion king where the hyenas eat scar alive. his paranoia is deep set and destructive, but not necessarily unwarranted. he is alone, in constant danger, surrounded by people who want him dead, and it’s 100% his own fault.

this isnt the only instance of tragic irony the character represents. like spamton, king spade’s story is punctuated by an inability to break out of the role laid out for him by the narrative. he is a darkner, created and sustained only to act as a device for the advancement and entertainment of lightners. he’s one of the few darkners that actively fights against this admittedly pretty fucked up class system, and only due to some likely immense religious trauma associated with being left alone in the dark by an uncaring god that didnt even know he existed.

but, by rebuking the lightners he has merely colored his obsession with them differently, only succeeding in swapping religious adoration for seething acidic malice. even as he thrashes against the chains of predestiny and tries to flip the script, his identity is still fundamentally tied to the lightners he’s trying so hard to wrench free from. he does not see the issue with this because he is stupid<3

he also does not see the issue with being an insufferable prick to everybody around him for the sake of The Cause. he is well aware of the risks, and no doubt hardly sleeps more than an hour or two a night due to the constant threat of being fucking assassinated, but i think he thinks himself smart enough to weasel his way out of (or completely shit stomp) any potential uprising or coup. and he’s right. for a while at least.

fear is a powerful but fleeting motivator, and when it inevitably wears off and the smoke clears and everyone sees that you are alone at the top, you will be eaten by your own dogs.

[crimsonophelia]

Could I get a fluffy and maybe flirty Childe imagine set during his story quest? Instead of the Traveler and Paimon accompanying him, the reader (who works at the Northland Bank as one of Childe’s subordinates) gets slapped with the duty of babysitting Teucer and covering for Childe and his façade as a toy seller in Liyue.

"I must say that your brother is quite cute, sir."

"...I guess it must run in the family."

"Hm? Did you say something, comrade?"

"Oh. Um. Nothing, sir."

Of course, being the perceptive man he is, Childe heard all of what they said. What he ends up doing or saying to the reader? Seeing the magic you’ve worked when anon previously gave you the liberty of it, I leave it entirely up to you. :)

featuring: childe x gn!reader

warnings: a teeny bit suggestive at the end

published: april 27 2021

form: imagine

a/n: i’m gonna be real with you, i was stuck on ar35 for the longest time because i was too cowardly to level up my world so i finally did it today and i jumped from 35 to 41 T_T and now my enemies are stupidly strong. but anyways i just started the childe quest today so im just gonna stick to the part when they’re still in liyue and there’s no fighting wwww

“teucer, i swear to celestia-” you muttered under your breath, as the little redhead slipped from your grasp yet again, running ahead to go look at some kite vendors. “come back here, kid! otherwise you’re gonna be in a heck of a lot of trouble!” 

earlier in the day, you were out running errands for the bank, under tartaglia’s orders, when you had come across rumors of a ruin guard running amok. figuring you would use your spare time and save some local liyue citizens the trouble of having to deal with the feral robot, you defeated the machine with efficient ease. however, in the vicinity, you discovered a lone child showing great excitement at a deactivated ruin guard, jumping and leaping while calling it “mr. cyclops” with a strange elation. 

you figured the boy was snezhnayan, what with his features and clothing reminiscent of the cold climate of your homeland. but why in the world was he out by a ruin hunter all alone? he kept mentioning his brother, a toy seller in liyue, but you could think of absolutely nobody that fit that description. 

so, out of the goodness of your own heart, you decided to take the little boy-- teucer, he called himself--back to liyue harbor with you, and see if you could find this older brother of his. 

however, once you arrived back in the city, your plans were quickly derailed as the little brat seemed to have the attention span of a fruit fly, and was constantly trying to weasel his way into some other dangerous situation without you knowing. 

“god dammit teucer”, you huffed, trying to keep up with the child. who let children have so much energy? your age must finally be catching up to you, you thought. “how about we go back to northland bank? you might like it there” you thought taking him back to your headquarters would stall the boy for enough time for you to find someone who might know the whereabouts of teucer’s brother. there weren’t too many snezhnayans in liyue--whoever his brother is, he can’t be far.

the little boy looked up at you with his big, blue puppy eyes, but you knew his act by now. “no buts, kid. if you’re lucky, we’ll be able to track down you’re brother there.” he sighed, relenting to your orders and following you back to northland bank.

the two of you climbed up the stairwell leading to the entrance of the bank on the second floor, teucer clearly dejected and pouting like a baby. exhausted, you pushed open the doors that you were so familiar with, and ushered the child inside.

much to your surprise, you see tartaglia talking with ekaterina in the lobby. it had been quite a while since you had seen your superior in person, and the surprise certainly was not unwelcome. sometimes you couldn’t stand the man’s smug attitude, yet there was something in his rogueish charisma that you simple couldnt deny attracted you to him.

teucer also seemed to be excited by this sighting of the red-headed harbinger, the little boy’s eyes lighting up with unbridled excitement.

“brother!”

wait. was tartaglia the older brother teucer had been talking about all along?

childe turned around, distracted by teucer’s voice, and upon seeing the little boy, his eyes lit up—first with surprise, then with confusion.

“teucer? what the heck are you doing here in liyue?”

he left the fatui agent with a befuddled look upon her face, and ran towards the child. teucer jumped up into his brother’s broad arms, and they grasped each other in a tight hug, like they had not seen each other for at least an eternity.

ruffling teucer’s hair, tartaglia softened, with an expression unlike anything you had really seen him wear before. he really must care about his family, you thought to yourself.

“so you’re the older brother this little tyke has been talking nonstop about”, you teased tartaglia, elbowing him in his side. “you know, he’s thrown me for a loop this entire day. i didnt think babysitting was part of the job requirement.”

the red-head chuckled abashedly, scratching his head. “sorry about that, [y/n]. the little guy can’t seem to bear being away from his favorite big brother.”

teucer laughed. he truly looked so happy to be with tartaglia again, which made you wonder what the harbinger was like when not on the job. you had known him to be a ruthless war machine, a hedonistic killer who thrived off of the rush battle and bloodshed gave him. childe could take down a dozen men, twice his size, in a matter of minutes, hardly breaking a sweat. yet seeing him interact with teucer, almost a little mini-sized version of himself, his gentleness and care surprised you. perhaps there was more to the man than you had initially thought.

teucer finally detaching himself from tartaglia, looked up at his brother with those same puppy eyes, now full of admiration. “are you here to sell toys to the liyue children, too?”, the child asked. toys? what toys could he possibly be referring to? you and ekaterina, both, looked at childe with confusion.

tartaglia stuttered for a moment. “oh! uhh— yes! yes i am! i was just talking with the nice lady, ms. ekaterina, on how many toys we can sell to all the children in liyue!” he responded, hardly missing a beat. did teucer not know what childe’s actual occupation was?

“wow! my brother really is the coolest person ever!” teucer leaped up and down, hanging onto tartaglia’s pantlegs. looking at this young, untainted innocence, you begun to understand why childe might try and shield the child from the truth.

childe detached the excitable child from his clothing, and beckoned ekaterina over. “ms. ekaterina, would you do me the grand favor of watching teucer for the rest of the day? i’d hate to burden our friend [y/n] after they have already brought him to liyue from celestia-knows-where.” he turns to teucer, telling him “big brother ajax is going to sell many, many toys now! so you need to behave yourself when i’m gone, okay? miss ekaterina will be watching you, and she’s very nice.” he pinches his brother’s cheek, teasing him lightly, and ushering him away with the fatui agent.

it’s now just you and tartaglia in the bank, as the sun was setting and all the other employees had gone home for the day. you heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be rid of baby-sitting duty, after having to deal with teucer’s antics for several hours now.

“i’m really sorry about all of that. i had no idea he would be coming, as a stowaway, no less.” the man looked at you with genuine gratitude. “i don’t want to imagine what might’ve happened to the little brat if you hadn’t been there.”

you chuckled, not quite used to seeing such sincerity coming from the harbinger. most of the time, you had been accustomed to his charismatic facade that he puts on when he becomes childe, the eleventh and one of the most dangerous members of the fatui harbingers.

“don’t worry, it really was no problem. your brother is certainly a handful, but undeniably adorable”, you said, mindlessly gathering your belongings again as you prepared to head out again. “he takes after his older brother quite a bit, i must say.”

“come again?” childe looked behind him, eyebrow cocked.

“oh— nothing. i didnt say anything”, you muttered. shit. you really need to get better at keeping your mouth shut. you refused to be known as the insolent fool with the puppy-love crush on the goddamn eleventh fatui harbinger.

“oh? that didnt really sound like nothing, my dear [y/n].” he smirked. whenever he called you “my dear”, you knew you were in for major teasing. he was definitely having fun with this. he strode towards you innocently, with that usual swagger of his, that tinted everything he did. his walk, his talk, his appearance all oozed confidence, and it was utterly intoxicating.

tartaglia now looked at you with a glint in his eye, the same look he gave enemies before he was about to utterly obliterate them. it was frightening, yet terribly alluring, and you despised how much you fell for it.

suddenly, you felt your back hit the cold, marble wall. you hadn’t even realized that tartaglia had cornered you against a gold pillar, his mere presence forcing you to unconsciously move away from him as he approached you, calculatedly. a lump growing in your throat, you couldn’t bring yourself to even utter a single word in defense, only feeling your cheeks grow hotter and your legs grow weaker.

tartaglia leaned his arm against the pillar, dangerously close to your head, effectively propping himself up with only you between him. you were far too aware of the space—or rather, the lack thereof—separating the two of you, the man’s hot breath audible in the dead, echoing silence of the golden bank.

tartaglia smirked, bringing his face close to yours. “you flatter me greatly, [y/n].” smirking, his breath grazed against your neck, his stare burning into your flesh. the way your name sounded on his lips made your breath hitched in your throat. too hot, you felt way too hot. it was impossible for a hydro user to make you feel such unbearable heat.

“seems as if your clever words aren’t of any use to you now, hmm?” you could feel the mans lips brushing against your jaw, each touch against you leaving a stinging trail. he brought his free hand to caress your own, fingers clasping yours as if you were made of a delicate porcelain, the finest kind liyue had to offer. slowly, as if dragging out each second as long as he could, tartaglia brought your hand to his lips, and planted a long, slow kiss to the back of your palm.

your eyes widened at the sheer eroticism with which he kissed your hand—an act commonly of etiquette somehow being much more lustful, even debauched when tartaglia did it. all you could feel was where his lips met your hand, the phantom burn it left, the slight string of saliva connecting his lips to your hand as he left it, the dark gaze in his eyes as he looked back up at you, clearly aware of how vulnerable you were in his grasp.

“thank you again, my dear. i hope we can continue to work together in the future.”

a/n: jesus christ this got really horny at the end LMFAO anyways i hope you like it! its kinda long but wtv

[linked-heroes]

aight i told ya i owed ya- with raviolink x reader i have this weirdly specific (and very self indulgent) self insert fantasy (or twelve?)

my personal pet insert rn is reader being isekai'd at a young age, around legend's first adventure you get caught up in the middle of it, and do your best to help out were you can, maybe solving puzzles together and sneaking around together, comforting him after the unfortunate passing of his uncle you both develop tiny (read: huge) crushes on each other (legend always has fallen in love easily, he supposes this is where it started, looking back) and when the time comes for you to go home, you only have time to get out a desperate "link, i don't- i don't want to go!" before the spell swallows you, never to return again he goes through the rest of his quests, falling in love and having his heart broken a hundred times over again (it did, it did start with you, all those years ago)

you spend those same years listlessly yourself, just going through the motions like an automaton, until a sickly swirling dark portal opens up before you you just, go through, without thinking- and end up somewhere, familiar you felt maybe, after so many years had separated you from this fantasy land, that it was all a sweet childhood dream but there you are you wander around as if still in that dream, until you find yourself on a familiar doorstep ravio greets you inside, and indeed it is link's house, although he is off again on some adventure or another you dont have anywhere to stay, and no money, and goddesses link is gonna kill him for this! but you're so cute! ravio offers you a room and a job (it's not even his house, what is he doing?) until the hero comes back, and maybe he can help you ravio doesnt,,, actually pay you, but you do get to stay there for free, cleaning up the shop and being threatened with a fine if you touch any actual merchandise you get pretty close, you think he's cute, mischievous, the sweetest, greasiest weasel you've ever met, and your modern business advice (you didnt work years of customer service for nothing, i suppose) puts a manic grin on his face that you just want to smooch off (he wishes you would) you miiiight be in the middle of doing just that when legend and his linkly entourage arrive, as embarrassing as it is (this is his house goddesses damn you both! stop that!) when your eyes meet though, the world slows to a stop, and so does his yelling, all at once he cant, cant say no to you (or to ravio, though he's sooner die than admit it) of course of course of course you can stay (please stay, oh din please stay, dont leave again, either of you)

he writes to you both now, and burns inside because the two people he loves likes the most are together, he shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't try to get between you, it's his punishment for something (for koholint, for his uncle, maybe) his adventure ends, and he's home at last, and he can't chase either of you out, the portals are closed, there's no where else to go except ravio has saved up quite a bit, in the meantime, and mentions the two of you opening up a shop together, the only thing that would be stopping you is the way you both look at link- the way you'd both miss him, the way you both want to hold him when you break the news (and his heart) about the shop, he congratulates you its the sound of his hushed crying in the night that sends you both out of your shared room, to cradle him and kiss his tears away together, to promise you aren't leaving him, not again, never again you all pile in to one bed after the tears have exhausted the three of you, and when link wakes up sandwiched so softly between the two people he likes loves the most it takes everything in him not to cry again, as he buries himself back into the sheets, into the arms where he is safe and love

(bluh i cannot write anything that isnt painful, horny, or painfully horny for the life of me hjdfhdskjh)

Omg my feels! This hurts soooo good omg I love it????!

Just, auebhenejej. Yes. To all of this. Pain but so good!

(Also completely relatable and understandable 🤣)

Please send me your other ideas for these three I beg of you

Also nsfw cause I can enjoy it until I can post it this weekend ;)

[thatfoxnamedfinley]

So, I just finished The Devil Judge [SPOILERS AHEAD]

SPOILERS. You have been warned.

omfg

OH MY GAWD

First of all, catch Ga On sending innocents to the electric chair so he can have Yo Han come back

I’m not even fucking kidding

Okay but where do I fucking start

I made my last post when I’d only seen up to episode 6.

First of all the final two episodes were fucking masterpieces

I said what I said

I love that Elijah still didn’t find out the truth. Seeing Yo Han scream and struggle while having a panic attack at the thought of Elijah finding out the truth, I’m so GLAD that Ga On did not tell Elijah the truth. 

Literally catch me shedding 11 tears

Seon Ah killing herself, I did NOT see that coming at all. And the flashback to Yo Han reaching his hand out to her, the idea that “It’s always going to come back to just us two in the final moments” trope that worked SO WELL

And she couldn’t kill him, she loved him, and that love endured to when it came down to her or him, she chose him

And though romance wasnt a main plot point (thank god) and romance is my LEAST favorite genre, the subtlely of that love was very well done and in the end I felt very much for Seon Ah.

Ga On on the phone with that piece of shit Supreme Court guy like, “ Yo Han is a pitiful person, he didn’t do what you said” AND THAT 

WEAsEL

convincing Ga On

and the KNIfE SceNE 

and YO GUYS I REALLY THOUGHT THE PARALLEL OF HIM STOPPING THE KNIFE AND SOO HYEON STOPPING THE KNIFE WAS A SIDE BY SIDE COMPARISON FROM THE FANDOM, I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS CANON, LIKE, IN THE ACTUAL SCENE

But I wonder, was that parallel coorelating Soo Hyeon saying “It’s not worth it” in regards to stabbing Yo Han or was that a direct parallel to Yo Han stopping him...to say like...I am the monster so I will let you kill me if you want but you will regret it, which is what Soo Hyeon was saying

Help me understand that parallel fully, I think I know but it’s like REALLY complicated because if it was meant to be interpreted as Do Yeong Chul and Yo Han are the monsters, OR if its to be interpreted as Ga On sees Yo Han as someone riteous to listen to like Soo Hyeon because he stopped the knife???

Because if its meant to be read that way, that Yo Han is someone that Ga On now puts in the same category as Soo Hyeon, all stemming from him stopping the knife, I’m trying to figure out what that means

ok anyway moving on

catch me sliding into the thoughts of Ga On

I feel like the the last parts of episode 15, through the end, Yo Han elevated in Ga On’s mind as someone he loves dearly (platonically or not, doesnt matter). 

He told Yo Han “I will go with you” with the bomb

like 

WHAT

I read an interview with Jinyoung saying that Yo Han was like a magnet to Ga On, he drew him in. And I really see that. He comes across as a character that observes very well, one that watches. And He was just staring at Yo Han’s face with tears in his eyes telling him that he will go with him

I mean at the end of episode 15 when he found out the truth, he said he wanted to die

Why?

Because he felt he treated Yo Han wrong? Even though he was the only person who tried to understand him as a human being, he still thought him capable or doing something that he didn’t do, that he was really accepting the hate and the demonization from others in order to protect someone he pretended not to care about in order to protect her?

Like, I love that

I love that Ga On now sees himself as someone that must be redeemed because he feels Yo Han deserves that justice and that peace

but like the complete admiration, and love, and acceptance from Ga On, the COMPASSION is what makes him such a likeable character

like, he had those moments walking through the house after he thought Yo Han killed himself where he had flashbacks of moments together with Yo Han, but it was the moments he chose to remember

Yo Han looking back at him with kind eyes while they were picking out clothes for Ga On in Yo Han’s closet 

Ga On reaching out to touch Yo Han after he is vulnerable from waking up from a nightmare and looking at the face of someone who looks so much like his dead brother (at this point in time, I DO believe Ga On recognizes that was a very, very vulnerable moment for Yo Han because Yo Han wasn't in his right mind, and Ga On knows he looks like Yo Han’s older brother, which is why he chose to remember it)

The tower of cards that he pretended to knock over, showing Yo Han being playful and smiling

He chose to remember aspects of Yo Han that were warm and kind. Gentle. Vulnerable. And that to me was the moment that made me cry. Like, HARD. 

Out of the things he chooses to think about, he chooses to focus on the aspects of Yo Han that made him human because he was someone who went through trauma and pain and lived in that hell everyday but was still capable of those moments

THE HuG in EPsSOdE 15

THE ANGER LIKE HOW THE FUCK DID YOU NOT TELL ME YOU WERE ALIVE THEN THE HUG AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ok and finally, the ending scene with the

“What should I do now, to help create a world that doesn’t need Yo Han?” The underlying symbolism smacked me in the jowls. What do I do now, to live in a world without Yo Han?

then 

“DO WELL OR I WILL BE BACK”      

     AND THE CHASE

The desperation to see him one last time, literally sprinting out of a judicial meeting to discuss laws to implement and he zipped out of there

The final meeting between them was poetic and beautiful

Yo Han turning to let Ga On see that he is okay, that he will be okay

Ga On’s expression shifting from relief to questioning to sad and longing and finally to peaceful and even happy (which I think was for Yo Han’s benefit here, when Yo Han turned back around, Ga On’s face shifted back to sadness and longing a little bit. I think he was happy FOR Yo Han, I don’t think he himself was happy at all because it meant that Yo Han was leaving)

No words needed, what a masterpiece

(I say that as i write a thesis)

The Devil Judge was a pleasure to watch, a truly rare show that comes along once in a while for me that I truly loved and enjoyed.

Hit me up if yal want to talk

I think that’s all I feel for now

((Side note, I've watched the actor who plays Kang Yo Han, Ji sung, for a long time now. What a phenomenal actor. I am of the firm belief that while this story is mostly told through the eyes of Ga On, we feel it through Yo Han.))

((Side side note, his prison getup was superior))

((Side side side note, have a shot every time Ga On says KANG YO HAN in the last two episodes))

[vonschweetz]

Reasons I’m killing it at the Cool Aunty Club and better than my parents:

I remember my niece’s name and respect it enough to use it and not “jokingly” get it wrong or make up bullshit nicknames (I know my mom isnt gonna cut that shit out even though I had a talk with her about how mad disrespectful that is and she got mad at ME because she keeps calling me by a stupid as shit nickname that isnt funny or a joke and I told her to cut it out and she has gone to the point of hacking stuff like my netflix profile and changing my name)

I’m the only one beside my sister who is able to spell my niece’s name correctly (because I actually listen to my sister when she talks about it and like… honestly it’s not hard at all. Everyone else in my family is being an asshole)

I was the only one who wasnt trying to cheat or weasel their way into finding out the fender before the reveal and NOT trying to ruin the reveal because my dad was the only one who knew and didnt give a shit about making an effort and multiple times almost either told because he didnt want to put the effort into planning the reveal (literally me and my sis had to go to party city and give the info to the workers blindly and do all the work for him so all he dad to do was pick up the supplies and he still almost fucked that up)

Like seriously I do not understand what is so hard for anyone in my family NOT to be an asshole! Like this is a baby we are talking about! A BABY! They are somehow already actively trying to ruin this kid’s life and my sister’s experience and Im not fucking standing for it. I dont care if my parents think im an asshole at this point im very protective over this kid and im not letting her have the childhood I had. I wont let it happen again on my watch.

[rawmeknockout]

pegging 🦇ratbat🦇 god bless

//i got a rattrap request and i was really excited cause i thought it was ratbat at first so i had to write this it needed to be done i didnt know it needed to exist until i was disappointed//

Ratbat isn’t a good man in any respect, never has been, but he treats you better than his companions ever have. He knows intimately the cruelty that Decepticons are capable of, and he was able to wield that cruelty with a soul-crushing efficiency. And you had a strange ability to stay just close enough to Ratbat, just well enough in his good graces.

You aren’t sure you appreciate the Autobots giving him his original body back. Restoring him to his previous grandeur, as far as appearance and stature go. Ratbat has since informed you it’s a small reparation for the millions of years of embarrassment working under Soundwave. He even has the privilege of a position on Earth, where he can stay close to you and work with the Autobots to sustainably harvest energon. As much as Ratbat’s ability to weasel out of going to robot prison should thrill you, really it’s the cause of your first grey hair.

Because now you get to come home everyday to Ratbat lounged across your creaking bed, luxuriating in the marvel of his bipedal body. This time you’re at least prepared enough to know you won’t be doing anything for the next few hours.

“Come, my beloved,” He calls to you, hand outstretched to beckon you. You want to roll your eyes, but you’re already stumbling out of your work trousers. As much as you want to deny him, you take his hand and crawl between his spread thighs. He knows he’s beautiful, all long legs and sharp angles, taking up the entirety of your bed and then some. You used to enjoy curling your body into a C around him, pulling his head in tight to your soft chest, now he’s so tall you can’t fit against him without feeling like a speck. “You need to quit that dead end job already. There’s no reason for you to work when I can support you.”

“I don’t want to depend on someone else for my needs,” You can’t reach his lips to give him a kiss, but you peck at his palm when it cups half your face. That doesn’t help the pout that sets on his mouth, and you know you’re in for another argument if you don’t defuse his disappointment. “I’ll think about it, if you’re really serious. Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

Sometimes it’s better to just give him what he wants, and you’re feeling particularly indulgent. You can’t imagine living in a body that feels unlike your own, like a house that belongs to someone else, for millions of agonizing years. So maybe Ratbat deserves to get what he wants for once. He hooks his ankles together, pulling you in tight to his warm interface panel, and leans up for a kiss. It’s not like you aren’t getting something out of this, and it feels good to do for someone you’ve become so close with. Ratbat’s too-sharp-hands scrabble at your back and feel down your familiar body, as you lean over to fumble around your nightstand for your strap on. He’s easily memorized every inch of your body, and his hands still reach for you again and again.

Something about him still appreciating the expected is... sweet coming from someone like Ratbat.

He makes up for his bratty behavior with an eagerness that borders on manic, already rocking and grinding his interface panel against you before you’ve even got your ‘equipment’ on. Ratty’s lips are on your neck, on your cheek, anywhere he can reach. His erratic, hurried temperament only suffices to make you antsy for him, your hands sliding over the grooves and seams of his new armor. His body is still so shiny and novel, unworn by the war, and your sweaty hands slip across him like he’s wet stone. He looks untouched by hardship and battle, but Ratbat’s eyes are as frigid and steely as ever.

“Don’t make me wait,” He uses his legs around your waist to rock you into his array, voice stuttering when hard silicone scrapes against his modesty panel, right before it transforms away for you. As hard as life can be with Ratbat, you’ll never get tired of seeing him openly and eagerly bare his valve to you. The way he looks at you unguarded, so unlike he is when anyone else is in the room.

You try to push into him slow, but Ratbat moves against you with legs twisting and squeezing your waist, until the base of your strap is nudged up against his anterior node. He purrs your praises in that too-high nasal voice that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is, a curse and your name stuttered together on his lips. You know he won’t bother waiting for slow love-making, so you bear into him like he wants with all the energy and passion you can muster for him. It’s enough, you assume, because he’s keening for more and bucks up into your thrusts. Everything you do for him should be enough, but you still wish you had more. More time, more energy, more body to give him. You know Ratbat is greedy and it would never be sufficient.

“Come on, is that all you’ve got?” His voice is breathy, as if he can actually breathe, and comes out in a higher pitch than normal. But Ratbat still looks smug, even with lip caught by his fangs and eyes brighter than normal. Your soft palm slides over Ratbat’s node in response, pushing down hard for your flesh and bone arm, but he whines appreciatively. “I wish you would overload in me, beloved. Fill me with your sparklings over and over.”

And although part of you finds that way hotter than it has any right to be, you don’t need to explain the biological impossibility to Ratbat. You let him babble his half-baked sexual fantasies, while you fuck him to the sound of your bed singing in despair.

Ratbat rolls down into your thrusting one last time, before his back arches and he overloads. His clawed hands nearly tearing up your back while he clings to your muscle and bone, dragging stinging lines across tinfoil skin. He watches you, satisfied, toothy grin across his lips, while you seek out your own orgasm. Ratbat’s armored abdomen curls under your tiny hand when he leans up to kiss your forehead, into your messy hair, across your neck. Even after you’ve finally stopped moving against him, weak from your orgasm and keeping up with a giant mech, he continues peppering you with desperate kisses. Showing, rather than telling, you about his still aching spark.

[scover-va]

1. does your back hurt from carrying the hex fandom 2. do you have any hcs for swk and rust mclain ever since i read the swk and rust fic rust has become a comfort character for me 3. do you have any reginald hcs

No but it DOES hurt for mysterious reasons that I fail to understand and that are entirely out of my control (bad posture + slouching)

Rust accidentally teaches SWK to swear. Only reason SWK didnt know the word fuck beforehand is because Mr. Shrewd never swore in front of him and he didn't talk to Catarina enough to hear her swear. Rust immediately goes through the first 4 stages of grief and never acceptance upon hearing SWK scream fuck after stubbing his toe. Also SWK bullies him for shooting the groondas. Rust is questioning if teenagers are usually like this or if it's just SWK. Because Rocky would never bully him for this. Also SWK makes Rust do movie nights with him. Rust has yet to understand how movies work. Also also, SWK keeps bothering Rust abt his gun and abt how he wants to try it out, so instead of giving a hyperactive teenage boy a gun, Rust basically buys him the video game world equivalent of a Nerf gun. Chandrelle hasn't been able to exist without getting shot by a foam dart.

I'm gonna assume you mean good ol' mister barkeep and not mister "I went to Russia to give an evil disk to fucking Satan", though if you meant mister Barry Reginald Wilkinson lemme know bc i ALSO have hcs for him. Hcs are under the cut bc this is already a long enough post as it is

He's. Kinda at fault for Jeremiah having ceaseless boredom. But it's also kinda Gameworks' fault. Basically Reggie kept telling him he should be allowed to have fun without constantly thinking about work. And as much as Jeremiah likes working for Reggie, he quickly grew to resent how boring the janitor job was. Blame Irving, the janitor job was his idea

Before the "Lionel wants this" disaster, Reggie actually liked to consider Irving his friend! The sentiment wasn't returned, but he made several attempts to try and bond with Irving. Irving still calls him Reginald despite Reggie having told him so many times in the past that Irving can call him Reggie.

Also before the "Lionel wants this" disaster, during after work hours when they had time to spare, Reggie and Jereiah liked to dance to the music on the old gramophone! Jeremiah sucked at dancing, but Reggie didn't mind.

On that note, Reggie and Jeremiah are PAINFULLY oblivious. They share a bed. They're with each other as much as they possibly can be. They have nicknames for each other that are borderline pet names. But they insist they're straight and are just friends despite acting like they're a married couple.

Due to being a video game version of Barry, any sort of event trigger can cause him to remember a memory of Barry's. It was most frequent back when Reggie was younger and after he became crippled, because every little thing reminded him of his anger, which reminded him of Lionel, causing him to get plenty of Barry's memories of Lionel. Even with the heartwarming memories, it never swayed him away from wanting to kill Lionel. If anything, it made him angrier, because why couldn't Lionel care about him the way he cared about Barry? It was far from fair.

I also have this hc to explain the fact that SWK doesn't age, that aging only happens if you have a living, real life counterpart. Reggie stopped aging when Barry was killed (Which. Wasn't when Lionel was a kid. Faked death), Mr. Shrewd died of old age the same time the real pet shrew died, and SWK stopped aging when Lionel's pet weasel got out and died a short couple weeks later. Because I doubt an animal that's been a pet its entire life is gonna know how to survive the wilderness

Regrets basically becoming a dad to six major idiots, because god forbid Jeremiah take a turn watching them

Finally, hopping on the 'Reggie and Jeremiah have a connection to the Mycologists' theory, I'm not following the 'It's actually those two' theory (especially the theory where they're piloting around Lionel's corpse), but it's more of just. Those two created the Mycos in a fucked up lil lab experiment (which we know Jeremiah is more than happy to conduct fucked up lil lab experiments thanks to that one weird room in VG2) and then shipped the files off to Inscryption. Basically, they artificially created a couple of sons and then immediately slapped them into what might as well be a war zone

Oh and also he's technically bi but he doesn't know any of the labels so. Technically he's also unlabelled

[pupandangelscoffee]

SWEET LIKE SUGAR, DANGEROUS LIKE SNAKES

Eddie Diaz x Evan Buckley x Reader

Genre: Action, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of drugs, mentions of being shot, mentions of being attacked, jumping out of window (no death), mentions of deaths in the past, inappropriate language

Synopsis: When Buck and Eddie agreed to do an undercover job for Athena, they didnt expect to meet someone like you

Wordcount: 2387

Taglist: @enterprise-medical

When Athena had come to Bobby with the request to allow two of his firefighters go undercover to a rather inclusive underground dance club, he had been against the idea. For one, he didn’t want to put Eddie or Buck in danger, but most importantly, he knew how reckless those two could be and he didn’t want them to risk being caught up in anything more dangerous than their everyday work. But after some persuading from both his wife and the two men in question, he had given in.

That is exactly why they are now standing in the door of your dance studio, eyes following your every move as you lead the group choreo, believing that you had yet to take notice of them and Athena. However, when you send them a smile through the mirror, Buck feels his breath get stuck in his throat. Eddie chuckles between his friend, feeling how the other stopped breathing for a moment while Athena shoots the young male a quick glare. “Remember, Buck, this mission is extremely important. Do not compromise it by sticking your slong where it does not belong,” she hisses as you finish up the dance and make your way over to them. “So, these two are the ones I am supposed to take with me?” You ask with a rather hushed voice, looking them over before raising a brow at Athena. “Listen, Athena, I respect you but with those clothes, they will stick out like a pink elephant in a black room.” You state blankly, earning an offended scoff from the two men and a small chuckle from Athena. Before any of the three could even reply, another girl walks up behind you and wraps her arm around your waist. “Hey babe, who are these two flamingos?” She asked, studying the men from head to toe before chuckling at their appearance. “Did you pick them up at the circus?” She added, making you giggle and shake your head before retorting “nah, I found them outside the clown school. Apparently, they got kicked out for looking too much like a giraffe that drank too much paint.” While the two men look incredibly offended at your comments, Athena tried to bite back her laughter. “Do we have to work with them? They are mean.” Buck whines softly, looking at Athena like a puppy that was just kicked.

Shaking your head a bit, you turn to look at your friend. “Okay, Marie, you will help these two gentlemen find some new clothes, okay? Afterwards Marcel and I will see how well they can dance and help them learn some moves, so they won’t stick out like a wedding dress at a funeral at the party tonight.” You instruct her, earning a small nod before she rushes off, dragging the two dumbfounded men along. “You will take good care of them, right? Otherwise I may lose my husband, they are like sons to him.” Athena explains causing you to nod with a soft smile playing on your lips. “Don’t worry, Athena. I will watch over them like my life depends on them. I just hope that Travis won’t figure out what we are trying to do. I would prefer not getting shot again.” You state before sending her off with a wave.

An hour later, Marie returns with Eddie and Buck, both looking more like they would belong to your scene than being model citizens. At this point, you had discarded your shirt and Buck had to do everything in his willpower not to stare at your chest. “We are back, and they finally don’t look like tropical birds in a crowd of crows.” Marie informs you, smiling at you through the mirror before grabbing her bag and waving goodbye to you, rushing out of the practice room. Turning to the men, you introduce them to Marcel before instructing them to show you some of their dance moves. To your surprise, Eddie was rather good at an assortment of dance styles, whether it was just basic salsa or some sort of break dancing, he was doing well enough that you didn’t have to fear for him to stick out unnecessarily. Buck, however, well he was a completely different story. You wouldn’t say he couldn’t dance, he could, but The Sprinkler and The Carlton would not be received well in any club, especially not one as exclusive as the one you were planning to take them tonight. While you managed not to burst out laughing, Marcel was on the ground, crying from the laughter that was ripping through his body. “Please, please do not do that when we are out tonight.” You beg gently, trying to not let the laughter get out that you were trying to keep down, eyes flicking over to Eddie, who is very amused by his friend’s interesting dance style.

You end up taking some mercy on the poor man, stepping closer to him, and placing his hands on your waist. “Just follow my lead, darling.” You say softly right as the music starts before starting to lead him, giving him a gentle smile as he stumbles a few times. After a few hours of showing him random dance moves that would be acceptable in the club, you hum in succeed. “Great, imma go shower and then we can head out.” You state before grabbing your bag before heading to the shower.

The smell of sweat and alcohol are the first things that hit Eddie and Buck when they finally get to enter the club. You had introduced Eddie as your boyfriend and Buck as your friend from a few states over to get them access to the club and Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart sting when you introduced Eddie as your boyfriend instead of him. Weaseling your way through all the bodies, you lead the two boys over to the table where your friends are sitting and to sell the illusion of dating Eddie, you sit down on his lap. Buck quickly averts his eyes as he feels jealousy raise in him, though it dies down as soon as the waitress brings over a tray of shots. Quickly, all of you grab one and down it before your friends stand up as your group’s name gets called out by another group of people. Frowning a bit, you get up as well, whispering a threatening “stay here or I will make sure neither of you have sex ever again” to the two men before following your group to the middle of the dance floor. Of course, the one night you bring in firefighters to a club that has seen more deaths than necessary, is the night your group gets challenged to a dance battle. You figure that they must be new around the club, because your group had a reputation build up about how you didn’t come to play. “Basic rules, whoever gets the loudest cheers gets to stay, the losers leave.” You state, smiling at what you assume the leader to be as you reach your hand out for a handshake. Your opponent nods and takes your hand, shaking it before both of you resume to your positions in your groups.

Meanwhile, Buck and Eddie both stood up, trying to see exactly what was happening. Buck is the first of the duo to end up climbing onto the table to get a better view, becoming completely entranced as he watches your group – especially you – start to dance. Holding his breath, he watches as the crowd goes wild for your group after the battle is over, only releasing the breath once you are back safely at your table and on Eddie’s lap. Eddie quickly wraps his arm around your waist, smiling and pressing a gentle kiss to your sweaty shoulder, clearly enjoying the fact that he got to play your boyfriend for the night.

Both of the men nearly forgot why they were with you and your group of friends in the first place, having a wonderful time and probably a bit more alcohol as they initially planned, though making sure that they were sober in case anything happened. And sure enough, after dancing, drinking, and talking for nearly two hours, three rather big men came up to you three. “Travis wishes to see you.” One of them states, motioning for you three to follow them, which you do. Once you enter the room where Travis is waiting, the bodyguards leave as Travis waves them off. “I see you brought some new friends, Y/N and you didn’t even bother introducing them to me. That is rather rude, ya know?” Travis states as he pulls out a clear bag of some white pills. “Why don’t we show them what real fun is?” he adds, mistaking your smirk for an agreement though quickly frowning as you take a picture of him holding out the pills. “You see, Travis, I don’t think the police would be very happy if I allowed their men to take some of your shit.” You state with a hum as you walk over to him and pat his cheek while Eddie takes out the handcuffs that he had hidden in his pocket. However, before he could get close enough to arrest Travis, the man dropped the bag and ran off. Sighing a bit, you take your heels off before chasing after him, knowing the club like the back of your hand.

A small scream, courtesy of Buck, could be heard when you jump out of the second story window, as he fears. Though when Eddie starts laughing while looking out of the window, he slowly walks closer and the scene in front of him was rather amusing. Not only were you absolutely fine, but you had also managed to catch a very bewildered looking Travis, who did not understand how you were able to cut him off and pin him against the metal fence, since he had been so far ahead. “Oh, this is Julie,” you whisper before slamming his head against the fence again before looking up at the boys. “Are you gonna come arrest him or do you want to continue playing pretty creepy dolls?” You yell up to them, causing the two to spring into action.

Soon enough, Athena shows up and takes Travis off your hands, not even questioning why he has a cut on his face. “He deserved it.” You state with a shrug before turning to Eddie and Buck to thank them and wish them a goodnight. “So, you think we are pretty, huh?” Buck teases before you can even say a word, causing you to giggle. “I said pretty creepy if I remember correctly, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Evan.” You reply before giving him and Eddie each a soft hug and a kiss on the cheek before grabbing your heels and walking off into the night.

It has been a few weeks since the boys last saw you and even if they didn’t want to admit it, they actually missed you. So much actually, that they drove past the place that you took them to, only to find it completely abandoned. Through a stranger, they found out that after Travis was arrested, the whole place fell apart and people just stopped showing up.

So, the surprise was real, when they hear your voice after coming back from a call. Racing up the stairs, they find you and Chris dancing with one another. “Well, what is going on here?” Eddie asks, immediately regretting that his voice came out a little more on the hostile side, but it was his father instinct kicking in as soon as he saw Chris standing without his crutches and only holding onto you. “Well hello to you too, Edmundo.” You state, quickly handing Chris his crutches before grinning and leaning down to his eyelevel. “You wanna show your dad what you learned?” You ask softly, getting an eager nod in return. So you step back and turn on the song that Chris had requested, watching Chris take the “stage” and showing off the dance moves that you had managed to teach him while the 118 was at the call. Meanwhile, the whole team joined you, all of them watching the young boy enjoy himself. “You have a very cute and sweet son.” You whisper to Eddie before walking over to the kitchen to grab two bottles of water, one for you and one for the young boy. “Dad, what do you think of my moves?” Chris asks innocently as he sips from the water bottle that you hand to him opened already, allowing you to pick him up and set him on the couch besides his father. “They were really good.” Eddie smiles, looking at you in amazement before ruffling Chris’s hair. “What are you even doing here?” Buck asks you, the smile on your face faltering. “Athena said it would be the safest if I change back to being a paramedic instead of a dance instructor, especially since I was attacked twice last week.” You add the last part in a whisper, not wanting the kid to hear.

Though you couldn’t help but giggle at the shocked faces of everyone except Bobby, who had been informed by Athena that you would be joining his team, because somehow none of them expected you to be a paramedic. “I finished the training 3 years ago, right after High School. However, I preferred dancing and it paid very well, so I never actually went to the firehouse.” You explain quickly before Bobby added “they will be joining us starting next week”. Huge smiles break out on Buck’s and Eddie’s face as they realize that this means they get to spend more time with you, almost like their wishful thinking has actually worked. A definite bonus was that Chris also seemed to really like you, so perhaps they could make things work.

But with your past? Would it come haunt them as well? Would it bring any of them into danger? Would it put Chris in the line of danger? Could they actually win your heart though? Only the future can tell, but the two men hope that their future is with you by their side.

[sleepypeaky]

amore?

michael gray x italian american male reader

wc: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of death, scars, you know the drill

request: My gay italian ass self would LOVE a Micheal Gray fic, but like, not sure he would like a guy who's italian after that fucking Luca incident.. and I dont know if you write for mlm..

a/n:  I hope you enjoy! idk why i made it so long but when i get a plot in my head i mean,,,,,

also i always try not to describe the readers features so everyone can be represented and i full mean for that when i say early on that michael sees him as italian. I personally dont look italian besides my nose- somehow the like 2% irish overrided it- so obviously this is a little off but i didnt know where to fix it

1927

Michael sat in his desk chair facing the window.

He was in New York City, he was the head of this branch of the company.

But he still felt like something was missing. Naturally, part of that feeling was from the fact that he had been exiled from his home. But the other was something else, boredom maybe, depression, loneliness. 

He sighed and turned back to his desk, where his meetings planner was open to the days page. 

His first meeting was a clandestine one, booked under a guise of what it really was. It was always intriguing, Michael thought, running a company that was a front. 

What he knew of this client was they were attached to one of the city’s hundreds of speakeasies, what these prohibition inhibited Americans called their secret pubs. And he assumed the client was coming to purchase some quality booze from the Shelby Company Limited.

What he he didn’t expect was who they were going to send. 

Normally the heads of the pubs sent someone to broker the deal in their place, a tall weasel faced man usually, who reeked of alcohol from every pore. 

Instead, when his secretary opened the door, an incredibly striking Italian lad strode through.

-

You weren’t expecting to see a man like that behind the desk. You figured it’d be some slimy old guy getting rich off of the illegal cash. Not a charming and incredibly handsome British boy.

-

“Uh hi, I’m Michael, Michael Gray.” He held his hand out to you and you shook it.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n).”

 He offered you a seat. 

“You’re not from around here are you?” You said.

He chuckled, “What gave it away?”

The deal was done in barely a half hour. But somehow you both found yourselves at lunch. 

“So how did you find yourself in, well, this line of work?” Michael asked.

“Well it’s pretty simple, there’s always work for people who don’t mind taking risks.” Michael smiled at that. You continued, 

“but I could ask you the same question.”

“Well lets say that this is one of the less illegal ventures of my family. And as you put it, risks are lucrative.”

“Ill cheers to that.” You smiled and raised a glass.

-

The lunches happened again, and then again.

Soon you were meeting daily, making up further excuses for getting to know each other.

-

“My family is, well, its complicated...” Michael chuckled one day as you were at lunch.

You smirked, “Michael, i’m Italian. My family is fucking nuts, trust me, your’s is no worse than mine.”

With people who had said that to Michael in the past he had laughed along and said sure, he was sure you meant it. Probably not in the same way, but he was in no position to argue.

“I might work in the illegal pub world, but some of my family is fucking nuts,”  You began. “My parents are fine, they came over from Italy before the war and brought my grandma, who i’m convinced my grandma used to be a spy or something in Italy. At least 3 of my cousins are working for the mob. It easy work for us, we’re all connected to one family or another between here and the old country.” You noticed a dark look on Michael’s face, a typical reaction “Dont worry, not the big guys like the Black hand, we don’t mix with Sicilians, they think they’re better because they live on an island.”

You went on for a bit more, just basic family outlining. And then it was his turn.

Michael went into the abbreviated version of his past (how he was taken and adopted) and the Shelby’s endeavors- the betting to drugs, smuggling, alcohol. Eventually he got up to the Changretta execution and John.

“John was killed by the Black hand in December ‘25.” 

“Stronzi, I’m sorry.” You cursed. 

He rubbed his right shoulder, “Yeah, after that my cousins decided to take down the boss, unfortunately I made some stupid decisions that could have ruined the plan and ended up exiled here.”

He took a weak bite of food. You tried to lighten the mood.

“Well, you weren’t kidding when you said you’re family was complicated.” 

You both laughed.

Shortly after this lunch you were both walking back to his office when a group of black clad men passed by on the street. They passed by without issue, but you saw that Michael paled and clenched his jaw. They were blatantly Black Hand. You saw he was rubbing his right shoulder again, nd you now figured it was a nervous habit. You endeavored to take his mind off it and started a new conversation.

-

About a month following this, you had brought Michael to the bar where you worked. You danced to the jazz and drank heavily, both getting caught in the energy of the decade. 

You ended up back at his office, now the only ones there, and he cracked open a hidden bottle of Shelby malt. 

Now both of you were on several glasses of liquor from the night, you found yourself floating in and out of conscious perception. Though you came to, suddenly, when you realized your lips were quite incriminatingly interlocked with Michael’s. 

Your inhibitions lowered, you continued gladly. And before anything progressed you both passed out drunk on his office floor.

-

You didn’t talk to him the next day. Mostly because your hangover was so severe you thought you would have permanent brain damage, but also because you were not sure how to proceed.

It would be easy to pretend like nothing had ever happened. To blame it on the booze, or just claim you didn’t have any recollection of the night. That was also gnawing at you, what if Michael didn’t remember?

It would be easy to just move past it, but did you want that?

-

Michael still felt the slight pressure in his head after 2 days. He rubbed his eyes and put the cigarette back to his lips. He was sitting in his apartment contemplating. He knew what he wanted, but did he want to risk it.

The door buzzer rang as he stumped the cigarette out. Who was calling at this hour? He took his pistol from the table.

He walked along the passageway to the door, he unlocked it and looked through the crack.

His heart skipped a beat and he released his grip on the gun.

“I got your address from your secretary.” You said. “I hope that’s o–” 

Michael cut you off by pulling you inside and kissing you against the shut door. You gave in to surprise and kissed back, pushing him through the hallway. 

Without breaking you unbuttoned your shirt and let it fall in your path. He broke for a breath of air.

You kissed him again and began to unbutton his shirt. He pulled back quickly to say something, but it was too late. You had already seen them.

Two knotted scars on his right shoulder.

“Michael what-”

“I didn’t want to tell you.” He looked down. “I was scared.”

Still in shock you watched as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. Low on his abdomen were two more scars. 

Suddenly in your mind you connected the signs, talking about john, the Sicilians, and the instinctive rub of his shoulder.

“They shot you too.” You said in a barely audible whisper.

Michael only nodded.

You walked forward and reached a tentative hand out to one on his shoulder. Tears prickled your eyes. You walked around to his back, you hand trailing over the soft skin before finding the exit scars from 3 of the bullets.

Michael turned to face you. 

“I didn’t think you’d ever find out.” 

You nodded.

He put his hand behind your head and guided it back to his. 

-

“What do your parents think?” Michael asked later.

Your head was tucked in the curve of his neck, your arm laying over his bare chest, playing carelessly with the sheet draped over it.

“My dads not really invested around to care, i think he knows but it’s just brushed over. Ma still thinks that maybe if she pushes the right Italian girl at me i’ll change. But honestly?” You laughed. “You’re catholic, she’ll be over the moon.” 

Michael smiled and threaded his fingers through your hand.

“What about you?” You moved back a little to see his face better, “Does anyone know?”

Michael let out a deep breath, the one that normally proceeded any talk referring to his family. 

“There was always so much going on that i didn't have much time to process, much less let anyone else see it. There were girls, i wont lie. That may have thrown them off. Even now, i think there is so much actual bad going on that what i do wouldn't make any of them bat an eye.”

“Is this what you want?”

He looked at you,

“I didn’t know until now.”

You breathed. 

“And?”

“More than anything.”

And he kissed you again.

☾ ✧ ☾ ✩ ☾ ✧ ☾ ✩ ☾

☾ ✧ ☾ ✩ ☾

☾ ✧ ☾ ✩

☾ ✧ ☾

☾ ✧

☾

[primordialsquirrel]

Bittersweet Tragedies

Pt. 1 // Dead to Me

A/N: The first part of a series of writings based on Melanie Martinez songs, and my own want for Dabi interacting with a child ^^; The reader will have many more interactions with him as time goes on (and maybe even some interactions with heroes)

The vigilante Phantasma was no more. Leaving you and your little sister motherless.

You always felt cold, something you got from your father, but this cold was penetrating in a way you could only describe as being stabbed.

Over and over.

Phantasma was an outlaw, and no one missed those. They were the villains of the hero world. Someone people didn’t tend to miss, someone you werent supposed to root for. So when you returned home to your sister with the news, you knew she would only find comfort in you. No one else would mourn your mother.

For a whole night, you both lay in her bed, curled up and clinging to each other, craving a warmth you knew would never return. But after that, you knew you had to be the one to step up to the plate.

You were 23 and your sister the fragile age of six. Without you, what would she have?

"Kiko."

She lifts her head, eyes still red from hours of crying. Yukiko wipes her eyes.

"Y-Yea?"

"We're going to be okay." You assure her, placing a hand on her back. "I'm gonna call one of mommy's friends so we can get some help. Do you want to go with me?"

"But.." She sniffles. "I have school."

"Ah. Alright. Come, let's get ready for school, I'll take you." You wait for her to sit up before helping her get dressed, using a damp napkin to wipe away the trails of tears on her cheeks. Fifteen minutes later you stand outside of her school, the bell already ringing for her to get to class, your hand cold without hers to warm it.

With nothing left to do you take your mother's phone out and click on a familiar icon. A weasel.

Holding the phone to your ear, your chest lightens as the line is picked up.

"Hey Uncle Kagero, I.. I need some help."

---

Walking beside Kagero Okuta, or Giran as he prefered to be called for business purposes, made you uneasy. It wasn't him personally, in fact, he was one of your favorite people that came into your life because of your vigilante mother. No, this unease was due to the man following the two of you.

Twice was his name. He argued with himself, which unnerved you. Men in general made you nervous, especially the ones that yelled.

"Sorry about my friend here, he's going through a rough patch." Giran removes the cigar from his mouth, waving it around as he guides you through tight alleyways. "It's not his fault, he's just-"

"AN ANIMAL! Heroic! Suave! STOP THAT EH?! Amazing."

"Like that." He snorts.

You shake your head. "It's fine." In any case, you move just an inch closer to the older man.

Giran was an old friend of your mothers, someone she went to for information or for new tech. Often times she took you with her to see him, and often times he would give you whatever he had on him at the time. Ranging from lollipops to broken parts of machinery. It fascinated you as a child, seeing him pull out all sorts of items from his pockets.

Now you saw him in less of an innocent light, but you didnt hate him either. Work was work.

Speaking of.

"What kind of work were you thinking when you said you could find me a job?"

"Nothing terrible." He inhales deeply, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. "You like to dance, right?"

"More or less."

"Something like that. I know a guy who pays good money for people with quirks like yours. It'll keep you and Kiko fed."

A job that relied on your quirk.. Well, it wasn't the worst news you could have heard. And if it would keep your sister comfortable, you would do it.

The three of you stop in front of a rundown bar, the windows boarded up and it's sign hanging haphazardly to the left.

"So, why are we here?"

"To meet the gang! TO DIE! Shigaraki wants to meet you! SHUT UP!"

You turn around to look at Twice. "Shigaraki? The League of Villains guy?" You'd heard of him through the news. The attack on the USJ was still spoken of despite it being weeks ago. "I didnt realize his base would look like.. This."

The man narrows his eyes, looking ready to tear you in half before he stops and taps his foot on the floor. "It's fucked up- but give it a shot! It's cool inside! UGLY AS fuck." He ends in a small voice, hugging himself as he rushes in through the doors. You could hear him say something, presumably to the rest of the people inside.

A hand is placed against your back. You look to your right, seeing Giran look down at you before nodding towards the door.

"In you go kid."

Nodding, you step up to the now open doors and find yourself in a rather well taken care of room. It was a bar with crystal scones and furniture you werent expecting to see in a place that looked like it's outside survived a nuke.

Several people waited inside, either standing or sitting. With one look, you instantly knew who the leader was. But with another look, you couldn't help your eyes being glued to another man.

He had his head resting on crossed arms, his skin held together by staples. He was asleep, but it didnt stop you from looking at him a second more before turning to the leader.

Shigaraki.

Standing in the center of them all was a person who could turn you to ash without breaking a sweat. You would be nervous were it not for Giran's presence. You trusted him enough to know he wouldn't let you die tonight.

"So, you're the one Giran has been talking about." His voice grates against your ears. "The amplifier."

Amplification. Emotional or physical. Your quirk was.. Useful. Amplifying calm, strength, passion, happiness, nearly anything. It had its uses.

"We've already worked out the details. Should you come through on your end." He saunters forward, stopping just short of you.

From where you stood, staring up at him, trying to look past the hand covering his face, you had the from feeling that this bargain would force you to toe the line your mother had danced on for decades.

Vigilante? Or villain.

"Amplify his healing."

Shigaraki points to the now awake man covered in deep purple scars. The man's eyes burned into yours, a bright, blazing blue.

He flashes you a smirk as he moves off of the seat. Unlike Shigaraki, he stays where he is by the bar, but not too close to the alcohol lining the shelves.

You fidget nervously. "Just his healing?"

Shigaraki narrows his eyes, his fingers curling into a slow fist. "Just. Healing."

"Will it be a problem babe?" The man chuckles. "I thought we were getting someone impressive."

While his voice was pleasing to the ears, it wasn't enough to discourage your annoyance.

"It's just fine, pretty boy."

He lifts a brow, the smirk on his face widening, pulling at the staples on his face.

He opens his arms as blue flames engulf him head to toe, skin taking on a deeper hue as it begins to burn. "Give it your best shot babe."

Oh how you wanted to amplify his pain receptors. Oh how you wanted to wipe the smug expression off of his face.

But Yukiko needed you to get this job.

Your pupils dilate as you focus solely on the flaming man before you. Your body takes over as you feel the barest trace of energy radiating from him, tugging on it as you allow your quirk to latch onto him and do its work.

His expression changes ever so slightly as his skin stops it's burning and reverts back to its previous appearance. It wasn't healed fully, but it most definitely was not getting any worse.

"Interesting." Shigaraki speaks from beside you. A little too close for your liking.

You step closer to Giran who puts a hand on your shoulder. "I told you they could do it." He ducks his head slightly. "Good job kid."

Shigaraki nods absentmindedly, already mumbling plans that you already knew you wanted no part of. But you already signed away that piece of you.

Whatever he wanted you to do, you would do. For Kiko.

"Consider yourself hired." He acknowledges you after his compatriot puts out his flames, said companion now making his way to you. "Dabi will be your guard. Treat them well." Shigaraki adds, tapping Dabi on the arm with two fingers.

"Of course." Dabi stands in front of you, looking down at you with that same smug smirk. "Looks like you’re stuck with me babe."

No.

No.

You step forward, ignoring the smell of ash wafting from him. "You've got it all wrong."

He cocks a brow.

"You are stuck with me."

His grin only widens.

[ophexis]

I made kind of a big deal last year about doing better this year but tbh the only thing i did more is disappointing myself sdfsg

I don’t rly expect anything better from myself for next year, but I hope everybody else gets to have a much better year.

I did move out to my first appartment last march, and at least that went well. The moving itself was smooth. We had a bed bug scare, which was awful, but thankfully ended up being nothing even if it was a lot of money thrown to the wind. But now we’re comfy and despite everything we haven’t had any issues, and I still have a job and I’m safely working from home.

I managed to avoid covid, despite living in quebec’s no1 hot spot. I’ve barely gotten out of my appartment except to get mail at the drugstore. My mom’s been working retail since the begining and its a miracle she hasn’t caught it but I’m so glad because she does not deserve this. Both my parents are ok but I wish I could’ve seen them for christmas. All my friends seem ok too. I really want to go to the restaurants with them again.

My job performance went to shit but I still have it, at least. I got on the project I wanted to be on instead of MK but it hasn’t been enjoyable at all due to a lot of things out of my control. Couldn’t get my level up despite the 4 years of experience and leads having nothing negative to say about me, so at this point I think I’m just gonna be stuck at being considered only one step above a new employee forever. it’s been rly hard working everyday.

I started suspecting I may have ADHD, but theres nothing I can do about it, which is frustrating. I’m on a waiting list for a doctor, and therapists need doctor recommendations, especially adhd specialists. Probably won’t have a doctor ‘till next year, so I get to wonder how the hell I’m gonna weasel my way thru the next year. Idk if it’s the working from home, or the isolation of being here everyday since march but I feel like the biggest fuckin idiot and I just notice way more of my fuckups than i used to and its frustrating as hell. Even if I do get to talk to someone, the idea od talking to a therapist about my dumb feelings fill me with more anxiety than anything so I don’t know how im gonna do this. I’ve never talked out loud to someone face to face about my feelings. and if they end up being shitty im gonna have to go thru the whole process again. i tried looking up tips and whatnot but tbh I haven’t been able to focus on rearranging my life around potential adhd so idk. I cant get started on anything.

I’m having variably bad back pain and what i assume is the occasional sciatica flareup, but not much I can do about again as I don’t have a doctor and I’m not familiar with local chiropractors here and well covid is a thing. i could barely walk yesterday which ws the worst i ever had and im not sure how that one happened, but it seems better today

I tried drawing more, I think in a way I did, but I’m still increadibly unhappy with my art and it’s hard. I hate all of it. 

I got ring fit adventure and managed to play daily for a month, and now its hard, which is again frustrating, like, why am i like this.

i dont have any hopes or goals for my future and i dont rly know who i am anymore. and i dont rly know what i want to do so im just existing around, playing ffxiv and animal crossing and trying to get thru my work days. I’m looking forward to Monster Hunter Rise which looks like its gonna have the life that mhw was lacking, so thats gonna be nice at least.

im excited for the new star wars stuff announced. anything thats made by favreau and filoni should be excellent. rly excited for the Taika Waititi movie, it should be a nice good breath of fresh air in the franchise like the mandalorian was. I’ve been playing swtor too and made unsurprisingly no progress on my irl mando armor.

so yea that was lil ole me. I didnt post a lot this year cuz tbh i havent done anything. But I hope y’all managed to have some good things happen to you in 2020, and I truly hope the next year will be better, even if thats not quite how things go, but I hope you can all find some good things.

[revelaare]

Shit said in the Crimson Discord & VC, taken out of context part 2, (the sequel)

Big NSFW warning, probably

his meat slid off and then slid right back on

[PRONOUN] can punch me in my uterus and make a hammock out of my ovaries

it’s one of the worst fucking things i’ve ever heard, and i’ve heard someone literally shit their pants

they tagged me and my ass clenched

this man just said “I want to eat ur ass and then kiss you” ok buddy

a man with a plan

my grandpa is texting his hoes from his flip phone

god my lawyer was a hit but idk if she will be the chosen one or not

hello give me your toenails

i'll touch you in a non-weird way

he was in that movie with the people, he was the human.

i want her to brush my hair

If we have dick glasses they have to be of the highest quality for the best experience

i don't wanna watch that white nonsense

i would throat him like a fine wine

these millenials can't live without ac? back in my day we lived on the sun

yall better put those goats on a wheel, tell them to start running

he looks like a bitch

yes or no, u wud punch the light bulb out of thomas edisons wrinkly pruned hand and asked him if he believed in god

still has skin and a working body

i needed to wait until my voice changes

you thought i was snacking on joe biden’s savory meat stick

barack guckin oglizzy, oguckma, barack osugma, Joe choden, OglchnnngggHHHYynnUUUnnghhma

why did i have a dream that i was taking the lid off my car

false gods require wine, real gods require coochiefice

fettucine wet ass pussy

that was all you sent me. the picture of a raccoon and then nothing

it isn’t hate, it is ‘continuously let down by’.

i never went to school who science

i’m gunna go peer pressure my mum into a shot

thank you for furthering my career at hot topic

i will suck the ingrown hair off of him

it has huge jackman in it

i chomped on this eggshell, got my calcium in for the day

i will take you to touch the mango

i want to see all the big things

[PRONOUN] has collar bones so deep you could hook a clothing hanger into it

no asscheeks in fucking family chat you animals

he will eat you alive and suck out your intestines like its a spaghetti noodle

[NAMES]’s Tiggle Biddie’s

dropped acid, cried the whole night.

my stomach is hooping and hollering, i’m about to eat some sleep

you want my throatsac ??

please dont know me as the toenail eater

you have to keep the skin on one side while you eat the other, thats basic mango physics

i mean he is some good sasuage

calm down dick Hannibal

respectfully, what the fuck is this

tbf i only eat my steaks where they need tampons

you committed acts of culinary terrorism

does your refrigerator whimper and cower in the corner when you approach it. that's your fridge trying to use echo location to locate a safe space

thundercuck

i almost met Jesus, I almost got an autograph. Almost got a greatest hits signed album.

respectfully, are you smoking fucking crack?

my left testicle could play better than you

i’ll eat him with ketchup

son of a biscuit eating bulldog!

now it’s back to me sucking, all is right in the world.

holy fuck weasels.

holy fuck, weasels!

why does the bad guy look like the Statue of Liberty?

this is a man that sometimes willingly dresses like a lumberjack

and me, being an emotional cripple, must make jokes about this.

hey my name is [NAME] i'm **definitely** who i say i am

[NAME OR PRONOUN] offered a back massage by calling it the “tickle thing”

i love a man who puts his parents in a nursing home.

my brain is going to take a hot shower

wait have u seen steve harvey's coochie

if it were me i would simply not be pregnant

look im not about to be out here saying i love [NAME OR PRONOUN] feet, but i am about to be out here saying that their feet are some of the nicest feet i've seen in a long time

i named my cloyster renesmee

[NAME] was texting me from the bathtub

you’re pregnant? That’s unfortunate.

do I say dumb shit? Perhaps. Do I take ownership? Perhaps.

i pay for things in blissful ignorance

i am an emotional vagrant

i am an emotional fragrance

to make a long motherfucking story short...

this enchilada tastes like asshole and sadness

you are not an ugly bitch, you’re just a bitch

that’s not a nut shot, buddy.

i’m sad because i sucked the meat off of this pumpkin spice latte

i want to make a blanket out of his eyebrows

what are you disgracing my Christian eyes for?

he be looking at that dick like why does it go so much to the left?

I want her to record an audio book for me so I can fall asleep listening to her voice.

Can I lick you like an ice cream cone? Asking for science.

like you're out to lunch with your bromie and you're eating some rubens or something and you wistfully look over the rim of your sunglasses and just: You ever buss 2 fast

my accent is flaccid

timotay chalamaymay’s sweet ass

on the bright side mcallister’s gave me 3 pickle spears. Almost enough to make a whole pickle.

you think they came from the same mommy pickle?

HIS DOODLE IS OUT

i thot that meant [NAME] wanted to...doodle his noodle

i don’t use commas, i don't respect u enough, fuck ur reading comprehension.

does australia have seasons

i want someone to embalm my body with mcdonalds sprite

his hermione grangina

purrrr my last email

its lore locked beneath 30 layers. u can only understand it if uve had a near death experience

LET'S GET FUCKY

i wanna have the heart of a stoner

his man titties look like little tattooed pillows

SWIGGITY SWOOTY COMIN FOR THAT BOOTY

there were no cheeks to shake. nothing to clap. no noise to be had from her literal slices of wonderbread

u ever just fuck around and ur tits fart

put a lil mint leaf on it for authenticity

alright brother god bless may u be fertile

i feel like im being advocated for something i shouldnt be advocating for

and i am adam with my fat pendulous balls lol

i’m making whuppie with whoopie godberg

theodore tits fart rex

yeah man do u also have the third toe on ur shoulder

the green spaghetti monster is coming for me and i can't blame him

today i learned starfish do not poop

that was nothing compared to some other things I saw

listen I'd willingly watch [NAME/PRONOUN] in a cell for 24 hours. Imagine that sounded less creepy

i'd lick a dirty flip flop off her abs

i’m tempted to show you all the gravity defining boobs, maybe tomorrow

my brain is on vacation

good morning! i ate breakfast and im ready to go to bed

tape the titty in

ive unironically had nightmares with [NAME] in them

the peanut in the auditory canal

so far this feel all comfortable, does this all make sense?

i know it's kind of a schlep to get through

nail polish or no nail polish for the shower?

and then he saw those big tt honkerz... and it all went down hill from there

can y’all stop chanting curses in the chat my furniture is stuck on the ceiling

EH?! CIAO? HELLO??

in Russia this is not ok 

i can’t buy pants here on Sunday either

IT'S LIKE TWELVE THOUSAND DOLLARS TO EAT ON A SOGGY PANCAKE

imagine me going up to [NAME/PRONOUN] and being like i love the way ur flesh smells

in a supermarket. The sickly blue light where humans congregate. Animal human masses. Nameless faces. Whole lives boiled into generalized categories like "asshole who definitely does need 4 boxes of cheerios". Yout hink and realize while stabding in line u didnt grab the bag of frozen peas...but its 2 late

its truly the only picture that gives me pure joy

are weasels real

my work mum just messaged me the phrase "use your booty call wisely" with no context

"let's bring u to the mustache chair"

If you’re not doing coke under the coke sign what is the point?

[phrynewrites]

phryne im DEVASTATED i didnt see u had posted a new prompts list 😭😭😭 if ur still taking them then pls pls scyvie for 24 if ur not im so sorry 😭😭😭

Hi my lovely ness!! Thank you for the prompt and thank you for waiting for me to finish! 

Here’s a little snippet of my new Hollywood AU, in which Scarlet is an established actress with a gilded career and Yvie is a young upstart with ambitions to dethrone everyone’s favorite starlet. That is, until, the two engage in an elicit affair, finding hate and love to be easily crossed wires. 

24. “Just try not to fall in love with me”

Scarlet was entirely enamored by the air of a new sound stage, and in her opinion, the feeling was surely mutual. She wasn’t away from her second home for long though — she never was, and she supposed she was exceptionally blessed for that. She didn’t have much time since her last film to miss the scent of loose powder on a velour pouf, the gentle touch of her glossed chestnut hair grazing her shoulders as a stylist released the pins one by one before brushing the curls out with their fingers. And as she looked at herself, even midway through hair and makeup, reclining in her satin trim robe, puckering and unpuckering her lips, and supposed the was blessed with stark features and a team that exaggerated them perfectly, giving her just the right disposition to stand beside any one of the studio’s leading men. 

Sure, there was a rotation of leading men, but she was the only leading lady.  

“So…” her agent, Sasha, drew out, lazily flipping through the script beside her, reading through Scarlet’s notes in the margins. “You’re not at all nervous about your new co-star?” 

She asked the question like she already knew the answer. And she should have. She’d asked about it at least twice in the town car over to the set, as though Scarlet should be as intimidated by this woman as Sasha clearly was. Scarlet scoffed, delicately brushing a wave out of her face with a pointed smile. 

“Is there a reason why I should be?” Scarlet mimicked, as though she too were asking a question the other already knew the answer to. 

Though, if she were entirely candid, she was a touch concerned that her agent of all people hadn’t led with naming who her next co-star would be. Maybe for mystery’s sake? Maybe to maintain some air of immediate chemistry, so the flame wouldn’t go out until after the premiere? Her character was supposed to hate her passionately after all. Scarlet, however, felt as indifferent as ever.

She could almost laugh at the idea of maintaining chemistry.

But she didn’t, of course. Her stylist was still brushing a clean, crisp red lipstick over her pout.

Scarlet hadn’t felt anything toward any of the actors — besides contempt for too much saliva during kiss scenes and fear of smeared lipstick in the scene that followed. This elusive chemistry The Independent always reported her having was nothing more than good acting. And sometimes contractual obligations to hold hands or be kissed against her well laid hair. She wasn’t interested in chemistry. 

Either way, it did concern Scarlet. But thoughts on someone else were wasted thoughts, she figured, especially when she’d find out about the mystery actress soon enough.  

“Well, you’ve never worked with her before. She just signed with the studio two weeks ago, if you could believe it.” Sasha laughed tightly, burying her face deeper into the script. Scarlet whipped around to stare right at her, right through the cover of the script. 

A blush compact hit the floor. Her stylist stepped away with haste. 

“A new actress.” Scarlet wrung out her fingers, pulling the stress away. She would rub at her temples, trying to soothe the imminent headache caused by the anger bubbling in her throat, but her foundation wasn’t set yet, and she was a professional. 

“Scarlet…” Sasha warned, stilling her hands. “She’s new, but there’s nothing of concern here.” 

“If there were nothing of concern, why wouldn’t you tell me about this?” Scarlet screwed her eyes shut and held tight. Everything was tight, really. Her chest and her hands and her stomach and the crossing of her legs. “They bring in some new woman and then what —” 

“You’ll love her.”

She loosened, settling back into her seat, and looked back at Sasha. Nonetheless, she still felt the crests of her nails digging into the arm of her chair. “I’ll be professional.” 

“Good,” Sasha nodded, putting the script back up. “And she’ll be professional to you and everything will be okay.” 

“Please, she’ll do more than be professional,” Scarlet said, checking her nails for any chips before smoothing her hands in her lap. She nodded, allowing the stylist to work on her brows. “There’s nothing to worry about. Everyone loves me.” 

Sasha hummed, flipping the page. 

“I’m sure she will too. And if not love, then admire?” Scarlet was sure Sasha wasn’t listening anymore, and the stylist was holding her head back, brushing out her eyebrows in between laying down wax and powder. She held her brows still but quirked her lips. “I’d imagine there’d be a feeling of worship toward me, if anything. She’ll love learning how to properly do her job by working toward my performance standard. I mean, I’ll practically make her career and she’ll absolutely love it, and love me for it.”

“Who should I worship again? You or your ego?” 

She whipped around, trying and failing to appear unbothered by the person or their remarks. But Scarlet couldn’t help but stare, curious about this woman. Her long, lean body, her hair wrapped in a scarf, her bare face. 

It had to be that actress Sasha was conveniently not divulging enough about.

“Like what you see?” The woman snapped back, her voice all grit and grain behind her clenched jaw. “Do you love it? Worship it, even?”

The gentle clicking of heels Scarlet once found as soothing as a heartbeat were now deafening, just allowing the tiniest squeak as she approached Scarlet’s chair. 

God she was fast. Scarlet had to wash her expression clean off quicker, lest this woman get the impression that she cared about her and her mocking. 

“That’s a cute little performance of anger.” Scarlet checked her nails again. The key to indifference was occupation, she reminded herself. To look as though silly thoughts were far more pressing than this woman’s eyes scanning over her, only taking a break once they reached Scarlet’s stockinged feet with a roll. She had to catch her attention again. “Next time, try to give it some layers. One note can be such a bore, no? I’d rather you not bore me.” 

“You better keep yourself and your massive head out of my way.”

She got close. Close enough that Scarlet could smell the cigarettes on her breath and how they made her blood run cold.  

“The more I get in your way, the better off we’ll be.” The words had only weaseled their way out, and, god she hoped she had enough conviction to freeze out this woman’s fire.

The woman rounded the chair, gently brushing the stylist away. She spoke again, mirroring Scarlet’s tone, though her nostrils still flared and her hot breath was still prickling against Scarlet’s cheek. “The more you stop underestimating me and assuming I can’t do my job the minute I walk in, before we’ve even properly met, the better we’ll be.” She turned on her heel, hitching her bag over her shoulder before glancing back. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get the whole hi hello good morning fake bullshit. Because now I don’t have to pretend to be hurt when I find out that your projections of obsessive self love are only to get everyone around you to fill that cold shell of a body because you failed to do it yourself.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Her jaw locked. She stared ahead at the mirror. She saved the image, hoping to reference this feeling when her and this woman went toe to toe on stage. 

Maybe she could turn this into accolades from the academy. 

“I know enough. And I know I’m never going to worship and love you like you want.”

Scarlet’s mouth fell flat as she began walking away. But she collected herself, calling back, “sure darling. Just try not to fall in love with me.”

“Your begging won’t work, sweetheart.” 

She was gone, but Scarlet could still hear her heels against the tile. And she could still feel the gooseflesh of her bronzed cheek. God, it smelled like Luckies, sweet and toasted, all wrapped around her.  The scene ran through her head again, over and over, even as Sasha laid a hand on her outstretched forearm. 

“So, that’s your co-star,” Sasha added. “Yvie.”