#and probably not gonna be able to run it for a While

[partycatty]

was requested to write interviewer!reader by this lovely post so here we are. @super-ssimp

johnny cage > interview

you, a reporter, have some questions for the hollywood heartbreaker. he just can't seem to focus on your questions.

notes: heheheheeggeheegehehegeh he's so fine in the gif i'm gonna shit everywhere

[ masterlist ]

• a box-office smash hit dropped after a long quiet period from hit star johnny cage, back stronger than ever with a movie that blew audiences away with its storytelling and casting. you had to squeeze in an interview with the director, cage himself. you were a part of a big company, front lining with interviews and now face to face with probably one of the most attractive men you'd ever worked with.

• johnny sat in his chair across from you, adjusting his hips ever so slightly in his seat as he holds intense eye contact with you. you return the stare, as hard as it is while a makeup specialist tidied up the powder on your brow.

• "you look great, doll," he's quick to charm, pointing a finger with a grin. "don't sweat this. you'll be fine."

• "i know i'll be," you return his affirmations with your own confidence, a beaming grin on your features that makes his breath hitch. "i've been in this job for nine years, mr. cage. we just haven't met."

• "what.. a.. shame," his voice is teasing, somehow his flirtations come off as honey smooth rather than sleazy. you scoff playfully, earning a laugh from the both of you. two assistants clip microphones to your tops, testing them quickly and hearing a full go-ahead to begin the interview.

• "i'm here with johnny cage, director of the new smash hit 'mortal kombat,'" your voice is smooth, experienced. "i suppose my first question is; what inspired such a story? it's unlike anything we've seen in films."

• the question seemingly didn't register at first, his faraway gaze blocking his thoughts. realizing his flaw, johnny snaps into celebrity mode, "oh, hrm — the ideas that came to me were because of a massive arc in my life. uh — without getting too into it, i was at a low point in the last year, running myself into the dirt. something changed and i wanted to be the new, young, and pretty one behind the camera for once rather than in front of it. i spent the entire summer writing and consulting some friends of mine and we were able to pull this film together based on our relationships and experiences. you won't see anything else like it because there isn't anything else like it. i was inspired by my life, and there is no other johnny cage in this timeline than the one you're talkin' to."

• you nod and agree, face hot at the way his expression lights up with passion as he walks you through his process. "right, and this was after a long hiatus, was it not? there were, rumors, so to speak—"

• "my divorce?" he cuts you off with a glint in his eye as he toys with his ring. "no need to dance around it, i suppose. yeah, different life paths, but i'm a changed man. single and ready to mingle as soon as me and my team crank out some projects we've had in the works."

• "so you confirm yourself to be single? confirming the rumors?" you clarify, leaning forward in interest — whether it was for your own or for the public's, you wouldn't disclose.

• "why?" his question catches you off guard. johnny rests a hand on his chin, tilting his head as he squints. a large grin creeps up onto his lips. "you interested?"

• you tense up, nervously giggling as your eyes dart around the small production team who is trying equally as hard to not laugh at your position. you were trained and professional and yet this man turned you into a blushing mess for all cameras to see. "that's not my question, mr. cage—"

• "—johnny," he interrupts you, pose unmoving. "the pretty ones get to call me johnny."

• what was he getting at? your notecards feel unreadable and your brain's fuzzing from the sudden attention. he was a pretty man, that much was sure, but was he really flirting with you or pushing his behavior for attention? it was hard to tell, his affections were dizzying enough.

• he chuckles at your blank, sweaty stare, your lips opening and closing like the dumbest fish in the tank. you'd been hit on before by interviewees but johnny took the cake without a doubt, from his veiny arms to his touchable hair, all the way to his tight, round—

• "earth to interviewer," johnny's teasing fingers wiggled in your face, grounding you back to the rickety wooden chair and blinding lights. "too much, or not enough?"

• "neither," you lazily protest as you come to. "just didn't... expect all of that." the interview proceeds as normal, with johnny's clicks and compliments littered to keep you flustered right when you regained your composure. it must've been a game to him, how long you're heated over a simple compliment. but it wasn't the compliment necessarily, it was the person giving them.

• it wraps up just as quickly as it started, and the production was being wrapped up the moment you delivered your outro. johnny's suspiciously large, dreamy grin was plastered onto his face for a strangely long amount of time.

• "it was nice working with you," you try to be cordial, it's hard when that smug look is looking back at you, like he's planning something. before you could stick around to figure it out, you spin on your heel with a beet-red blush on your cheeks.

• johnny visibly startles at your sudden turn, reaching forward to grab your wrist before you could fully face away. he flinches at himself and his abruptness, too eager to give away his desperation for just a little more time. he pulls away, scratching his neck.

• "sorry, doll," he gestures toward your wrist, a confused frown on your lips burying his ego for a moment. "just... hey, listen."

• "i'm listening," you cock a brow, stomach flipping at the out-of-script interaction.

• "me and you," he starts with a groaning sigh, struggling to find the words you stole from his throat from one look. "just us two. no cameras, no questions, no divorce — wait —" his slip-up makes you giggle. "no, no, really. lets go out sometime. gimme a shot, whatdya say?"

• "out?" your tone is teasing, a smirk of your own forming on your lips. "you flatter a lowly reporter."

• "you're not lowly," his voice drops down, more serious with a heartfelt smile. "you... make it hard to focus." he's silent for a moment before jumping into his playful attitude. "pick a different career, you're distracting me! but seriously, dinner? movie? not one of mine, i swear!"

• "only if you swear," you grin up at him, feeling far more human with johnny than you had in the interview.

[pinkiemachine]

Superman: Origin Story! 🎉

Part one involving what became of Krypton and the rest of the El family will be linked below.

Lara and Cal crash landed together on Earth (specifically, outside of Smallville Kansas) in the summer of 1977 with their escape pod badly damaged, and Lara bleeding out. As luck would have it, a young couple was driving through that part of the country and saw what they thought was a plane of some sort crash land. John Kent jumped out of the car and went to check to see if there were survivors and found a Kryptonian escape pod, steaming and smoking, with a woman and baby inside. Lara could tell that she didn’t have much time. Attempting to speak to John (though, he didn’t understand her language) she asked that he would take care of her son and bring help. Along with Cal, she also gave John a small, hand-held device that he couldn’t figure out the purpose of. Then… she died.

John was left standing there, not knowing what to do for a few seconds. Ultimately, he figured he ought to bury the body out of respect, so he ran back to his wife to give her the baby. By that point, though, there were already dark shapes on the horizon. Martha spotted them. Black helicopters. The Kents got in their car and sped away as quickly as they could, not wanting to get tangled up in whatever conspiracy this was. John didn’t take them back to house that night. Instead, they kept driving until they reached his sister Emma’s house where they would lay low for a while.

Martha was still holding baby Cal and she couldn’t bear to let him go. She had suffered a miscarriage just a week before and immediately fell in love with the boy. There would be no getting rid of him now. They decided to name him Clark, after a word John thought that the woman in the pod had tried to say to him.

After the black helicopters had gone, and after the crashed pod had mysteriously disappeared, John and Martha went back home and continued on with life. Naturally, they had a million questions, but answers would be very tricky to supply unless they wanted to poke their noses into uncertain places. So they kept to themselves. Clark, meanwhile, was growing up fast and strong. Literally. By the time he was two, he was lifting things he really shouldn’t be able to, running faster than they could keep up with, and falling out trees on purpose (not sustaining any injuries) because it was fun. This was their first inkling that Clark might not be human. (After all, Kryptonians do look a lot like humans.)

I would also like to mention that in this version, Clark has siblings. Yes, a few years after saving Clark, Martha gave birth to another son, Micheal. Then came Sean, then Rueben, and finally Suzie. They all worked together on their father’s farm, though it was kind of an open secret who did most of the work. Clark would out-perform his brothers constantly, and it had become quite the sore spot in the family. But, when the tractor breaks down, who’re you gonna call to get it back to the barn? Probably the superhuman son who can lift it with one hand and fly. They did have a lot of good times as well. They got up to so much stupid stuff…heheh… story for another time.

Clark was told from a young age that he was allowed to use his powers on the farm, but nowhere else. Especially not in town. John and Martha were worried the black helicopters might come back. So Clark did his best, but rumours still abounded. Some of the other kids in his class at school even called him an “alien” because of how weird he acted sometimes. Naturally, he had been told his origins by this point. When he was six, his parents sat him down and explained about the pod and his mother and John gave him the small device that Lara had given him. The moment Clark touched it, it activated. It was a holo-photo projector, and it displayed a portrait of the El family, baby Clark included. This was proof that Clark was from the stars, and from that moment onward, he became obsessed with outer space. By the time he was in middle school, he had star maps and rocket posters pinned up in his room, he tracked down every scrap of alien news and conspiracy theories that he could find, and tried to send out radio signals into deep space with his own dinky, homemade system in the family tree house. He loved his adoptive family, he did, but he also wanted to know what had happened to the rest of his birth family. Were they out there? Did they know where he was? That he was alive? He had so many questions!

Alas, time flew by, and no answers appeared. He had a falling out with one of his brothers (involving Clark losing control and accidentally hurting one of the family dogs with his laser vision) and after high school he left to get a degree in investigative journalism, later taking a job at the Daily Planet in Metropolis. He still talked to his brothers and sister and Ma and Pa, but he felt alienated. He didn’t really belong anywhere. That’s why this job was so important. He would scour the ends of the Earth to find answers.

Little did he know, though, that the escape pod and Lara’s body had been taken by the government and were being experimented on. Head of the classified project currently: Amanda Waller. Most invested investor: Lex Luthor.

Part one here 👇

[verminfang]

Poets struggle of just staring at a wall thinking of enemy Eidolons but not being able to talk about them to potential players

[shorlinesorrows]

just got the time to start the sunshine court and I'm Vibrating out of my skin

[camels-pen]

(i haven't read Whole Cake in a while, and i never really watched it, so bear with me)

I'd love to write a fic with Usopp on Whole Cake. it'd be sooo fucking long and i'd need to refresh myself on the entire arc, but god i'd probably be so satisfied when it's done. specifically for having brought a single moment in my head to life, but we'll get to that.

On Zou, he insists to be taken along on the Sanji rescue team and has worked himself up with a whole bunch of very good reasons as to why he should go there instead of helping in Wano, but of course Luffy just immediately accepts with a "yeah sure"

With Whole Cake, I think he'd be flipping between having fun as part of the idiot trio/quartet (Luffy, Chopper, Carrot), and being terrified with Nami. There wouldn't be that many differences in the arc as a whole, though; some things would be easier/better and some things would be worse- I don't necessarily think Usopp's presence would be overall an advantage or disadvantage, just different. Like, major events would stay mostly the same, but little details would change and maybe those little details would build to a far more drastic change-

for example, maybe one of Big Mom's kids considers themself a great sniper and wants a match with Usopp, or is motivated to work harder because Usopp is around and they want to take him out and boast about it. Maybe it means Sunny takes more damage than canon, or maybe Usopp's help means less damage to Sunny. (idk if i'd really do smth like this, but it's just an example)

skjdhf fuck i'm really not equipped to try and figure this out when i don't remember shit from Whole Cake aaaa

I do know that, despite his penchant for talking and rambling, I'd probably have Usopp be dead silent after his initial shock when Sanji fights Luffy. Everything about that is the same, except Usopp is just watching Sanji the whole time- not panicking, not moving, and not speaking. He doesn't say a word the entire time, doesn't even make a sound, and that, along with Luffy's words and Nami's begging, stick with Sanji.

(Usopp is thinking of his own fight with Luffy in Water 7, he's partially wondering if this was what it was like- if it was this painful to watch from the sidelines- and partially knowing he doesn't have to say a word, because he knew, like he knew back then, that it didn't matter what was said. It wasn't quite the same, but he could tell in the way Sanji moved, in the way he spoke and held himself, that he was putting on a front, trying to be brave in all the wrong ways. Usopp didn't say a word to Sanji because there was nothing he could say that Sanji himself didn't already know. Should've known. And his quiet, direct stare, was more than enough.)

the singular moment i really wanna write, is a scene where Sanji is apologizing for dragging them into his mess- either during the big meeting in Bege's castle or some other time- and Usopp's like "I'll do what you can't, you do what I can't, right?" and Sanji pauses, a little confused, until he remembers Enies Lobby and a stupid mask and cape and-

and tears are gathering in his eyes now, fuck, but he laughs a little. It sounds wet and his face is itchy and they're surrounded by tentative allies, but he- he laughs again and he says, "Fuck, you remembered that?"

Usopp shrugs, a little smile on his face. "They were some wise words from a wise man."

Sanji laughs a third time. "You think I'm wise?"

And they banter a little more before Bege tells them to quit it since they're on a time constraint or something. Quietly, Usopp will ask, "It-it helps. On bad days. And I figured, 'what's a worse day than this?' Ah, not that you getting married would ever be bad per se-"

"Usopp," Sanji says, looking more relaxed and settled. He smiles fondly and grabs his friend in a one armed hug, crushing him to his side. "Thanks."

And yeah, don't remember much beyond that, except the whole "hiding and then busting out of the cake" bit, which would mean Usopp in a cute little tuxedo or smth- maybe with a fedora aaaaaa <- loves fedoras- helping out with the fighting and eventually sailing with everyone to Wano.

He would be so distressed about fixing up Sunny now that the whole thing with Whole Cake is over. Maybe there'd be a gag about him promising Franky to take good care of Sunny while they were gone and being confident, after being Franky's tinkering partner and learning from him over time, that he could handle minor repair work much better than he did the first time around with Merry. And so when he finally takes in all the very-not-minor repairs he has to do, he's certain Franky is gonna strangle him for not keeping his promise. Probably also try to write in some nostalgic 'repairman Usopp' vibes from pre-Water 7.

Also something something, Sanji, wanting to do more for the crew bc he still feels guilty about Whole Cake, decides to take it upon himself to help Usopp not fall into a whole anxiety spiral about the ship. In turn, Usopp ends up helping Sanji not feel so guilty- usually by handing his own words back to him on a silver platter. And, yknow, having the two of them bonding and being buddies again like they so rarely get to be in canon nowadays qwq

[milkbreadtoast]

Hello I am back after 1 mil years w new art... here is... another clotted cream cookie...😷

[arcaneyouth]

*disabled guy voice* why the fuck is this happening to me

[quibbs126]

I just had this idea in my head that Chess Choco, in their obsession with chess, would consider checkers like sacrilege to them, and I just wanted to show it

Not pictured here is Chess Choco trying to beat Custard III to death (probably with chess pieces/their magic summoned chess pieces), while someone else is desperately trying to hold them back (either someone from the Gingerbrave squad, or Earl Grey/Dark Choco)

I again don’t really have much to say here, I think it’s pretty self explanatory

[cannibalistic-suggestions]

Passion and suffering. Pleasure and pain. Can't have one without the other. I can't imagine them being separate. That's how its always been for me. If I felt one I would surely feel the other, in what some would call "unfortunate," and what some would call "perversion."

I feel everything so deeply, intensely. My emotions are too "extreme." Surely this must be my punishment for that. My inability to moderate my obsessions just made me get used to the agony that accompanied it. The lows turned into highs and when I crashed it'd all start over again, a cycle.

I thought that with you I would finally be content. Your sweet sunshine self that pierced through the storm clouds that invaded my psyche, your comforting presence accompanied by that fragrant flower scent, intoxicating, that I would gladly drown in. I loved your gentle dazed eyes, like melting candies. Everything about you, I thought it would satisfy me, finally keep me happy. That's why I had to have you, more than just clinging by my side. But maybe that was the storm coming in, showering my brain in false excitement to receive the resounding thunder of an intense thought with joy.

Was looking forward to it. But something's missing, and I can't understand why. What went wrong? Saudade turns sour in my mouth: sickening, debilitating, like I'd throw up. Oh, that would be in vain. I must brave through this melancholy without a medicine, though my suffering isn't noble like a martyr's. It's tainted—sin—because I'm the one who poisoned myself looking for a cure to my "addiction."

I passed my lips over your skin, both when it was dead and still alive. Chewing. Sucking. Tearing, grazing. Ripping, swallowing. Filaments thinner than a delicate flower petal's width tantalize my tastebuds like honey with an added spice. Flakes dissolve on my tongue just as the powder of your dandruff does. Your nails click against my teeth, one of the few sounds I remember after you, a garden buzzing with life, went silent. After a crop pest's ravage, it was to be expected, but I had told myself I did it because I loved you, suffocating you in a swarm of my affections. And when the clouds cleared, there was nothing that remained, not even bone.

Indulging in pleasures of the flesh. I wanted to find pleasure in your flesh, even while you were in agony, in your last moments. Your tears had been like sweet nectar and I needed more. I ate it all up, but it wasn't appetizing enough. There was almost guilt—who was I to act like a petulant child, whining for dessert and then barely even finishing it when it was actually awarded to me? I don't know what's wrong with me. Or maybe I do, but to admit it would be ritual suicide. Why couldn't I just savor it, enjoy it, take it and be done with it. I had wanted it, no? I thought it'd make me happy; well, why hasn't it?

why is it not enough?

[arolesbianism]

Y'know Im not even gonna pretend to get ppl complaining abt the new skill trees because it makes Wilson less unique or whatever. Like there's plenty to complain abt with the skill trees, but you have to understand that the actual abilities Wilson gets from them are still unique, and still quite powerful in some cases. He rly isn't losing anything he hasn't lost by getting a skill tree in the first place, and in particular he could have a lot of use for certain speedruns and at worst is situational, which in itself means he's gained a unique role as a character. He doesn't need another new rework now or anything, the only rework Id want is a rework of the skill trees in general, Wilson is genuinely going to be just fine don't worry

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

Late update since i was super tired last night, and pretty much died for a while right after eating dinner lol-- But~, after extending my stay a lil longer than first planned-- i'm back from visiting with friends for a bit~, so hopefully that means i can focus enough to do some proper writing soon-- u w u

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/707957608117616640/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

If Randall thought he was about to cry before, then he was veering dangerously close to outright sobbing at Emily’s words, and it took a great deal of effort on his part not to do just that, as he tried his damndest to wrap his head around what she was telling him. Did she really mean that? Did she really believe that he was so amazing with his musical prowess? Did he really amaze her so much?

Of course, there was the part of him that nagged him, scoffing at these words, that little voice that was so certain she was lying to him, secretly thinking he was an awful composer, a dreadful singer, and a terrible musician, but for once, he found himself silencing that little voice, so caught up in the euphoria of her words that the inner voice was drowned out. For once, he didn’t believe that little voice, being instead so touched by her wonder, her admiration, that he was struggling not to burst out in joyous tears. So unfamiliar was he with such praise, he hardly knew what to say!

And he told her so, after taking a few moments to gather himself to keep from exploding with emotion (the last thing he needed was for him to break out into childish tears as something as simple as being told he was good at his craft), still blinking back the tears as he managed to choke out, “Th-Thank you, Emily, th-thank you...! I...I don’t know what to say o-other than...thank you!” He didn’t know if he had some natural-born knack for music or if it was just his own perseverance or something somewhere in between, but clearly, it was something worth celebrating in her eyes.

(Honestly, he much preferred to think it was his own hard work that made him so good at music...how cruel would it be for the Lord to give him such a horrible face, and yet have him make the most beautiful music, he thought to himself? Surely, if he were not the Devil’s Child, he was at least cursed by him at birth-the world will love the music you make, but not you yourself!)

[mayonakano-archive]

if not for the laws of this land and my fear of hurting myself i would have offed myself

[sunstar121]

okay. I have way too much art sitting in my drafts I just need to start scheduling this shit

[fabulouslygaybean]

ANYWAYS. time to search for patches in my city

[sugume]

CONJUGAL VISIT w/jujutsu Kiasen

Description: in which an inmate of a prison or jail is permitted to spend several hours or days in private with a visitors

More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, unprotected sex, some d/s dynamics with Toji, American prison system? (idk if other countries allow this lol?) 

☾ Ryomen Sukuna 

He's been in solitary for so long that you start to think you'll never see him again. He finally fixes his attitude enough to come in contact with others and eventually gets some visitation rights. Get used to having sex with him here because the guards inform you he isn't leaving for a long time.

 “s’too much Kuna!” You whine into the flat pillow but your boyfriend Sukuna could care less and keeps pounding into you from behind.

“Think I care slut? Been away from this pussy for months now, shut up and take what I give you.” He grits out, pushing deeper into your back with one hand, fisting your hair with the other. He’d be damned if you tell him what to do after all this time away. Do you know how spineless he had to act in order to get this visit, on his ‘best behavior’, desperate to finally be able to sink in some cunt after being surrounded by irrelevant men and guards with their heads up their asses?

“Feels s’good,” you moan when Sukuna hits your special spot. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That fast slut, it hasn't even been ten minutes” He chuckles, leaning down to bite your shoulder.

“Missed you, ‘Kuna, c-cant cum ‘out you.”

“Can’t do shit without me, bet you can’t even function out there without me,” He groans in your hair, you don't understand half of what he’s saying you just nod mindlessly and slam your hips back on his cock.

“Then cum on my cock, whore.”

☾ Gojo Satoru 

He's on a mission that requires him to go to jail. The prison warden is in on it, but that doesn't mean your boyfriend doesn't want to experience the "real deal." He convinces the warden to allow him weekly fuck sessions because he says he can't complete the mission without them.

“i-Im gonna cum ‘Toru!” you whine aloud, to far gone to be embarrassed that your boyfriend is fucking you on scratchy sheets in a bed that probably hasn’t been thoroughly cleaned in years or the fact that multiple other girls have probably been in the same position you’re in with other inmates, on the same bed.

“So tight love, haven't you been using your dildos in my absence?’ he questions as he thrusts into your glistening cunt. Watching as you throw your head back, tears running down your cheeks.

“They’re too small ‘Toru!” You wrap your legs around his hard ass trying to get him as deep as he can.

“Aww, they can't make you cum as hard as I can, can they love?” he pouts against your swollen lips. You shake your head furiously, listening to the sounds your squelching cunt makes when he thrust back in, his balls slapping hard against your ass.

“Think i'll ask if I can get out early on good behavior. I can't leave my girl unsatisfied now.” He chuckles before diving his tongue into your mouth.  

☾ Toji Fushiguro 

Your mans got locked up again! This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last. You don’t know how he convinces the guards to allow you to visit time and time again, but you won't complain. You always miss him when he's gone every few months. The guard just sighs when he sees you’re here for visitation again

“You miss me, little girl?” he grins, sticking thick fingers in your already sopping cunt. “You know I always miss you when you’re gone, daddy.” You gasp, your back hitting the cold concrete wall behind you when Toji curls into your g-spot. 

“So so bad.” you whine, grinding your aching clit on his hard stomach, legs tightening around his slim waist when you find the perfect spot.

“You wanna cum little girl?” he asks while marking up your neck. He needs others to know you’re taken and if he can't be around you at the moment he’ll make it known another way.

“Yes Toji!” You scream.

“Yes what?” He stops his fingers.

“Yes daddy,” you whisper, moving your hips desperate to not lose the orgasm you were chasing. “Please make me come daddy, please!” 

“That's what I thought little girl” He says before continuing his movements and biting down on your heavy bottom lip.

☾ Choso Kamo

Too ashamed that he ended up in prison to allow you to visit him for a while. After much reassurance from you that you don’t look at him differently he finally comes out of his shell and makes friends. Get’s out early on good behavior.

“You think someones watching?” You mumble, looking back at the camera in the corner of the dark lit room.

“F-fuck baby, don’t fuckin’ stop,” Choso whines, gripping your waist, trying to make you bounce on his stiff cock. ‘Who cares if they are, baby? They won’t touch.”

You turn back around and grin down at your boyfriend “mmm, isn't that how you got in here in the first place Choso, beating up a man for touching me?” You start grinding on his cock again.

“Do anything for you, baby.” He moans gripping your waist when your tight walls start squeezing down on him, trying hard not to bust a nut so quickly.

“Yeah,” you moan out, feeling his cock twitch in you. “Now you’re stuck in here for months away from me.” You pout and claw at his chest when Choso starts to bounce you on his cock. God, if only he didn’t beat that man up you’d have this every night.

“Worth it.” He looks up at the camera, imagining the security guard looking down at your ass recoil when he slams you down on his cock