#back to club tomfoolery

[ugartecoco]

them

[princessbrunette]

How did midsummer go with pogue!rafe and kook!reader? Did he fight jj because he tried to talk to her? What was her parents reaction? Did she let him put it in her butt?

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he was a little bashful to be honest. i mean he’s a huge guy — may i reiterate pogue!rafe specifically stands at a whopping 6’5 so there’s no way for him to effectively just blend in to the corner. he attracts eyes anywhere he goes.

he cleans up nice but he’ll roll his eyes if you say anything, turning up in his rented suit to drive you to the country club where midsummer was taking place. he swings the door open for you, and when you hop out you’re instantly on him— fixing his collar and his tie, any excuse to press yourself up on him, hands roaming.

“quit it alright, not even inside yet and you’re touching all on me” he shrugs you off, walking ahead. he’s agitated and a little more touchy than usual but it makes you smile. your rafey was nervous. he sighs as he walks, knowing you’re picking up on his mood. whatever — he’d do it for the promised anal sex.

he loosens up a tiny bit after a drink is placed in his hand. he’s a little surprised, the man in the suit at the door didn’t look at him funny or like he wasn’t supposed to be there. he even called him sir.

you hang off his arm, swanning around chatting and socialising as he stands in disinterest like a stony-faced accessory. you’re grinning ear to ear after a glass and a half of wine because his hand is on your lower back and sometimes, perhaps without even realising he rubs big warm circles on it. you just wanted him all to yourself.

“damn, who let this dude in?” jj’s jokey voice rings out and rafes all tense again, glaring at the fellow pogue dashing about collecting empty glasses on his tray.

“kind of unprofessional to be harassing guests on the job— alright, matter of fact where’s your boss maybe i uh, maybe i should let them know—” rafe is immediately in his face, tongue in cheek, looking down at the blonde like he was ready to throw hands so of course you’re slotting yourself between and urging him away. you couldn’t have that kind of tomfoolery tonight.

the second wave of tension came when your parents had finally stepped away from their social circles for a moment to revel in the shock of you bringing the handyman as your date. perhaps you didn’t really think it through, maybe they’d put two and two together and they’d certainly stop inviting him round to fix things which was annoying, as it was the few times you actually got to see him.

your father asks you to come on a little ‘walk’ with him, in which you reluctantly leave rafe’s side for a moment — just praying he behaves himself and jj stays out of his way. the thought of you returning to scrambling bodies on the floor and smashed plates and glasses had your body tensing.

the two of you stroll through the grounds, admiring all the fairy lights and dancing tipsy country club members paired with small talk before he finally breaches what he really wants to ask — being “why him, sweetheart? why rafe cameron our handyman? there are plenty of nice, respectable young men who come from a more… well, a background that just reflects you, a little more honey. what do you even have in common with this guy?”

“you don’t understand, dad. i like him, he’s different and the guys round here are weird and — and stuck up! you know i don’t like that dad, i told you!” you feel yourself regress, feeling like a scolded child again as you attempt to put your foot down, pushing through with your complaints even when you see your parent shaking his head in disapproval.

“i am just trying to protect you — rafe is a huge guy, to put it gently i don’t want my little girl getting hurt! you know how pogues are they’re… they’re undignified! what if he hurts you, huh? you wouldn’t be able to fight him off!”

“he’s not going to hurt me and i’m not a little girl. i’m an adult, and i can make my own choices.”

you don’t give him a chance to respond, already storming back down the golf hill the two of you stood on and back towards rafe — looking a little out of place yet somewhat slightly relaxed. his brows jump into a frown, blinking in confusion when he see’s your state — the most wound up he’s ever seen you.

“hey— wh— what happened out there?” he emphasises, and when you don’t respond, just grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bar his mouth turns down, shaking his head with a little shrug at being ignored. “not gonna tell me? alright.” he brushes off, irritated by your lack of communication.

he watches you order another glass of wine, before downing it — the pogue grimacing a little as he watches it trickle down the side of your mouth.

“alright— okay, jesus kid.” he gently bats the glass away and wipes your chin with the back of his wrist, still shaking his head. “can you talk to me?”

“i don’t wanna be with a kook boy. they’re all evil and stuck up and i just don’t like them. i’m a grown up and — and i can make my own decisions and my dad doesn’t have that kind of power over me okay only — only you— you can tell me—” you’re rambling, a little drunk and incoherent as rafe squints at you, bent a little to be able to see you better.

“breathe, alright… m’taking you home. this shit’s not good for you.” the cameron boy wraps an arm around your waist, all but manhandling you in a public- appropriate way toward the exit and piling you into the passenger seat of his car.

the car ride home is quiet aside from a few little sniffles from you, and he doesn’t really know what to say — so he doesn’t say anything. he had a funny way of showing he cares, and is more of an acts of service kinda guy anyway.

you’re still all loose and tipsy when he gets you back to your empty home, still marvelled by how fancy and large it is in comparison to his own. one moment he’s holding a glass of water to your mouth saying “drink.”, wiping you up when it spills down you once more — and then next minute he’s sheepdogging you into your bedroom, glancing around. “now get your little pyjamas or whatever. you’re goin’ t’bed to sleep this off. you’ll be fine.” he drawls, looking round to help you.

upon looking back at you, you’ve already managed to zip off your dress — your mood suddenly a lot more lifted as you bite back your drunken giggles.

“but rafey, i haven’t delivered my promise?” you’re all fluttery lashes and pouts as you touch his chest, the man before you sighing like it was the first time he’d breathed all day. “wan’ed you to put it in my ass all night.” you groan, all high pitched and needy — and fuck does he wanna give in. fuck does he deserve it — should pin you down and take what he wants right now, making you squeal and cry into your sheets, begging for some kind of stimulation in your cunt only to be rewarded with his big hot load in your ass before he tails out of that place before your parents return.

but it wasn’t right. since when did he care about doing what was right?

“nah kid, we’ll revisit that soon alright you’re — you are not in the right state… okay— so just… get into bed. come on.” his voice is a little softer in defeat at his own overwhelming affections and he guides you to the bed, shucking off his blazer and throwing it to the side as he pulls the blankets over you.

“can you stay?” you pout, sleepy as soon as your head hits the pillow.

“…no.” he scratches his cheek, the other large hand resting on your back and rocking you gently like a baby, not sure of how this all works.

you didn’t expect him to say yes, but it still disappoints you. however once your eyes are closed, they don’t open again — and soon you’re waking up in the morning to a hangover and no rafe.

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[florisa6s]

A idea- Damian!

These are just some Damian things I imagine happening atleast once!

-----

Tim: Damian I am way to tired for this-

Damian: Yes I know which is why your despicable and your posture is lacking

Tim: What do you mean my-

Damian: Timothy you are a shrimp right now-

Tim: What-

*Damian holding up a shrimp Tim drawing*

Damian: A shrimp

Tim: did you already have that ready?

Damian: yes it's my mental support drawing I take it everywhere.

---

Bruce: Damian you can't just adopt any kitten you find

Damian: ah I see....so you don't love me father

Bruce: wha-

Damian: Fine then! I'll just join Todd then! Maybe we can start a club "kids who Father hates and wants gone!"

Bruce: Damian I didn't-

Damian: I'm outta here! *Flips random scarf and walks away*

Tim: where did the scarf come from?

*Damian and Jason outside the room

Jason: I raised you well, that was a beautiful performance!

----

Dick: Jason! Damians gone!

Damian: I am right here Grayson.

Dick: do you hear that? I can almost hear his tiny voice, it's like an angel on my shoulder...

Damian: Stop this tomfoolery Grayson! I know you can hear and see me! Todd tell him to stop!

Jason: you know what? I think I can hear him too..oh be still my heart~ Damian where are you my precious little brother?!

Damian: Not you too Todd! Drake back me up!

Tim: wow guys did you feel that breeze in here? Wow it sure is windy *complete monotone voice*

Damian: Cassandra-

*doesn't even look at him*

Damian: Brown!

Steph: *fake sobs with Jason and Dick* our precious little boy!

Damian: Father!!

Bruce: *patting Dick's shoulder* don't worry chum we'll find him.

[i-trash-about-things]

Eddie's shitty sense of humor strikes again.

A random blurb that came to me after reading some headcannons about Eddie's childish sense of humor

777 words (nice). Suggestive but nothing happens. Reader has hair long enough to tug. GN!Reader and Ed are best friends. Swear word count: 4. English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn't make sense and feel free to correct me! (Repost because Tumblr flunked the last time I tried posting this)

If you wanna be Eddie Munson’s friend, you’ve gotta learn a few rules. Handle his guitar with care, or else he’ll bash it in the side of your head. If W.A.S.P. is on, you do not skip a single song.

You know all of these, better than anyone with you being his best friend. His partner in crime, the one that always gets him out of trouble– or gets into trouble with him.

But there’s one rule you know better than all of the rest.

Eddie is nothing if not a damn clown.

Loud, potentially annoying, and will crack a joke like he can’t hold it back. Be it an awkward one liner at a funeral, a sarcastic remark in the middle of class or a genuine good joke in the middle of a campaign– His mouth is moving faster than his brain, and all that leaves his lips is absolute tomfoolery.

You know it, your friends know it, all of Hawkins knows it.

And an example of this behavior is that fact he can’t see any one of his friends bending down to fetch whatever fell without pretending to hump against their ass, groaning and moaning so exaggerated you never know if you wanna laugh or cringe.

Shameless.

It is kinda funny when Gareth gets all pissy afterwards, tho.

But, even though you and Eds have been friends for the good part of 4 years now– he never did this to you. Not because he didn’t want to or because it’d be weird, but because he just never had the chance.

You, differently from most people, doesn’t tend to bend down to reach something. You just crouch. Or kneel, when the moment calls for it.

It’s just something you’ve been doing since forever, so you’re more used to it. Mindless, instinct, really.

But the past few weeks, you think Eddie’s been trying to get you to bend down– like he wants to get a completion prize for humping everyone in the Hellfire Club (with the exception of the sheepies, duh). He drops his pick mid practice, asks for you to grab a figurine stacked on the box near the foot of his bed– anything, just to get you to bend over.

So far? No such luck.

But Eddie isn’t anything if not committed to the bit. So, one day, the opportunity shows itself for him and he takes it.

It wasn’t even on purpose, really. He was just getting ready to go out, both of you gathering your coats by the front door of his trailer so you wouldn’t freeze your butts off–

“Oh, hey– wait.” Your hand leaves the sleeve of your hoodie, instead reaching for him to stop moving. Your face is down, eyes on the floor, and he raises an eyebrow. “I think there’s something stuck to your shoe. Hol’ up.”

And before he has the chance to freak out in worry if it’s a spider– you’re kneeling between his feet, tugging on whatever it is stuck to his sneakers.

And, like a match dropped into gasoline, he sees his chance and goes for it.

You don’t have the chance to raise your face before you feel familiar fingers tangling into the front of your hairline, tugging your head up roughly– and Eddie let’s out an exaggerated, throaty groan, half-heartedly moving his hips that are eye level to you.

“Mmph! Oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart, just like that!” He cackles, biting his lip and tilting his head back for that extra effect… But pauses when he doesn’t hear you laughing or groaning in annoyance at his shenanigans.

So he looks back down… And something about the smirk on your face makes his heart skip a beat.

Despite the crude and sexual joke, you don’t look embarrassed in the slightest– much less uncomfortable, which was Eddie’s original fear. No… No, you look amused.

Smug.

There’s something about the way your eyes are halflided, full of mirth as you look up at him from your spot by the floor. The shit eating tilt to your smirk has a shiver running down his spine, and his grip on your hair instinctively loosens. Amused, confident even– even while literally kneeling by his feet.

Jesus H. Christ.

“You’re a dumb ass, Munson, you know that?” You say, the slight tilt to your words hinting at an affectionate tone that has him swallowing the dryness on the back of his throat. He almost doesn’t hear you over the sound of the blood rushing from his head down south.

“I live to entertain.” He hears himself say, and for once he thanks the fact his mouth moves faster than his brain.

[tennessoui]

It intrigues me so much thinking obi wan probably thought he was going to have a nice normal partner maybe a school teacher or a nurse, and live his days solving crime and then BOOM undercover on mob work and then BOOM Mob Boss is all over you like extreme osha (is that how you spell it idk) violations happening and then BOOM Killing someone because they could take it all away because they blew your cover and then BOOM going to the police ball where his shitty father can see him on the arm of said alleged mob boss WITH built in twins i feel like at some point obi wan is just sitting there thinking all of them and then shrugs cause in the end he got the hot rich dilf and he can do literally whatever he wants (well not everything but I’m sure you understand)

hello hello i finally wrote the scene where anakin/vader and obi-wan meet :D aka "boom mob boss is all over you like extreme OSHA violations happening" because i thought that was funny af

(1.7k)

It’s never a stellar sign when Obi-Wan wakes up to a headache like this. In the academy, it’d been a rare occasion. He’d never been one to join his fellow recruits for late nights out in the sort of clubs that dot the darker corners of Coruscant. He was the son of a police chief, after all, and that gave him certain expectations to follow, none of which left much room for drunken tomfoolery.

But the sort of headache that greets him when he wakes up is the kind of headache he recognizes from the worst sort of hangover, the sort he’s only had a handful of times in his life.

For obvious reasons, the very first thing he does when he finds the energy to squint his eyes partially open is to immediately roll over and away from the light source in the room with probably the most pathetic noise he’s ever uttered in his life.

He can’t even remember drinking that much the night before is the thing. He’d—why would he? He was—last night was—the first night of his undercover mission, he’d never risk it all to get drunk—

“Careful with your head,” a deep voice murmurs from very near to him, and Obi-Wan freezes. He doesn’t know who that is, where he is…how he got here. The material beneath his cheek is leather, so it’s most likely a couch that he’s resting on. “You took quite a beating,” the voice adds, and it sounds amused.

Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut and tries to take stock of his body. He does hurt, that’s true. He hurts pretty much everywhere actually, like his body is one giant bruise.

He took a beating? He was only supposed to be a server at the club—it had been his first night on the fucking floor, how could anyone have even noticed him enough to—

Oh. One of Skywalker’s men. He’d hit on one of the dancers, Shela. She’d been nice to Obi-Wan, had shown him around and called him Benny.  

He’d gotten into a fight with the mobster when he wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

The fight had been taken outside. Six men against Obi-Wan. It hadn’t been much of a fight at all.

But where—

“Luckily, you’ve already been seen by the best and brightest in our fine city,” the voice says, and he must know he’s awake to be talking to him at all, but he still reaches out to touch Obi-Wan’s hair, proprietary. As if he knows he won’t be stopped.

The touch of fingers running along his hairline makes Obi-Wan freeze and then move, turning his face away, out of the man’s reach, and forcing his eyes open to glare at the touchy intruder.

His glare falters when he sees who exactly has found him. Where he must be.

Anakin Skywalker, businessman, restaurant owner, and suspected leader of the Coruscanti mob scene and its most violent family, stares back at him. His eyes are dark, his lips curled up into a smirk that makes Obi-Wan’s stomach tighten and his heartbeat rise. There is something very calculated and very cold about his eyes, and being under the full weight of them restricts his very breath.

“I was wondering if you had those,” Anakin Skywalker—known to all but a few simply as Vader—murmurs. He reaches out and touches Obi-Wan’s cheekbone, rough this time as if daring him to protest or flinch away from the movement.

The spike of tender pain makes Obi-Wan’s breath stutter. He must be pressing into a newly formed bruise. “Had what?”

Skywalker’s smirk grows. “Prey instincts.”

It’s like his heart misses a beat, lurching in his chest as he stares back at the mob boss. After all, he is wounded and weak and on what must be Anakin’s couch, inside what must be his home.

He’d been tapped by his father to infiltrate the Skywalker family’s mob, and he’s been studying up on all the information there is to know about Vader, his business, and his family since. The plan had been to work his way naturally into the confidences of the men of the 501st that frequented the strip club Obi-Wan got a job at. A free drink here and there, a charming smile, a flirty look….

The best way into the mob was to become a mobster’s fuck of the week. Or longer. Everyone knew that. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to think about his father signing off on his deployment, giving his permission for Detective Kenobi-Jinn to bend over and take it for the good of justice and law and order everywhere.

The plan had been to work his way into the affections of the mob, ask innocent questions in the minutes after sex when a mobster’s shields were mostly down, record the answers and report his findings to Detective Secura every other week.

The plan was not to wake up on Anakin Skywalker’s couch with the man caressing his face. The plan was not to ever even meet Skywalker. He was supposed to spread his legs for an underlying. A commander at most.

Someone like—what was the man’s name? One of the men last night—he’d been kind. He’d been someone Obi-Wan had hoped would come back, because—

“Daddy?” A voice asks from the doorway, and Obi-Wan lifts his head slightly at the sound. He’d known Skywalker had children, but he hadn’t known they’d be here—meeting Vader’s children was not in the plan at all.

Skywalker’s eyes darken, and he doesn’t take them away from his face, not even when he reaches out a hand to the doorway. “Come here, Leia baby.”

There’s the pattering of little feet and then suddenly a pair of big brown eyes is blinking at Obi-Wan from far too close to be socially acceptable. He twitches back on instinct, and a large hand wraps around the girl’s throat to tug her away gently. “We shouldn’t scare him, baby,” Skywalker murmurs in his deep, soft voice. “He’s skittish.”

Obi-Wan barely holds back an offended scoff. He’s not skittish, he’s aware enough to know that he’s at a significant disadvantage here.

At least it’s highly unlikely that he’ll be murdered in front of Skywalker’s kid.

“Daddy, Luke and I put all those band-aids on him and patched him up so good,” Leia says, allowing her father to drag her backwards and settle her onto the edge of the coffeetable. “You can’t make him bleed again.”

Alright, maybe the presence of his kid isn’t enough to usually keep him from murder. He sits up carefully, swinging his legs down onto the ground even though the motion makes him want to vomit. 

He’s barely vertical when Leia pushes herself under his arm to put her head in his lap, arranging his hand so that it’s resting on her head.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen and he looks at Skywalker.

The man just smirks as he leans back himself to look his full.

“You gave Luke head scratches all night,” Leia accuses when he doesn’t move.

“I—what?” Luke? Who is Luke?

“Rexy brought you to Daddy and he wasn’t here so he put you on the couch and Luke and I patched you up and you gave Luke so many head scratches even though he fell asleep which isn’t fair because we used my band-aids and you were sitting on my end of the couch!”

Obi-Wan blinks.

Obi-Wan’s hand starts moving, petting the girl’s head. 

Rex. That was the name of the man from the bar last night, the one who had been kind. Who had apparently looked after him, gotten him somewhere…reasonably safe. 

Perhaps the plan isn’t ruined after all.

“Oh,” he says very carefully. “Rex helped me? That’s very nice of him. I should like to…thank him personally then.”

Leia shoots up away from his side with an insistent scowl, one Obi-Wan is unprepared to deal with or understand. He looks away from her to frown at Skywalker, but Skywalker is wearing the same expression—though much darker.

“Weren’t you listening?” Leia demands. “Me and Luke helped you! Rex just gave you to Daddy!”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan blinks. He doesn’t…know what he’s supposed to be doing. Or saying. But he can try. “Well, thank you very much for your help, Leia. You and your brother made me feel much better.”

Leia beams and gives him a pat on the arm as if he’s a dog who has gotten a trick right. “Daddy,” she says and looks to Skywalker. “We are keeping him. Luke and I talked about it and that’s what we decided. We want Ben.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen. This is definitely not part of the plan.

But at least he’d been with it enough to give them his undercover name, despite being out of it enough to end up on Anakin Skywalker’s couch surrounded by his children, and then pet at them.

“I thought you were talking to Ahsoka about wanting a puppy,” Skywalker says. His tone is unreadable, but his eyes are softer as they look at his daughter.

Ahsoka. Ahsoka Tano. Vader’s second.

“Ben is better than a puppy,” Leia declares, and Obi-Wan feels sort of—touched. Despite himself. Despite the myriad of reasons he should be on his highest guard, even against this child.

“Ben is not even in the same realm as a puppy,” now Vader sounds amused. “If anything, you are requesting to adopt a little mouse.”

“Well…maybe Ben can be mine, and Luke can get the puppy,” Leia suggests.

Obi-Wan wonders if Ben is going to get a choice in this conversation, and then he wonders what he’d choose.

The plan does not mention him getting within touching distance of Anakin Skywalker.

As if he knows what he’s thinking, Skywalker turns dark eyes to him. “What if,” he says, in that soft tone he’d been using when he told Obi-Wan to mind his head, “I keep Ben, and you and Luke can get the puppy?”

That’s it then. The plan—and Ben—and Obi-Wan are all fucked.

“Okay,” Leia says.

Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything. His chest feels tight, and he's confused. He's confused because he's not sure he did anything to warrant being kept. He hasn't earned his keep yet. All he's done is bleed all over Vader's sofa. This is a deviation from the plan. He was supposed to be flirty and seductive and work to get the attention of one the mobsters until he ended up on his back for the good of the city. He's not supposed to--

“Well?” Vader asks, cocking his head slightly. 

“Okay,” Ben whispers, and Vader smiles. 

[saltdrinker]

I'M FINALLY DONE WITH THIS DUMB REFERENCE SHEET I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT YALL

coughs Now for my baby's official introduction...

My MC: Vicki Murakami

Birthday: June 21

Age: 16

Height: 160cm (5′ 3″)

Dominant hand: Right

Homeland: Unknown

Family: Akio Murakami (father)

Best Subject: Arts

Club: None

Hobbies: Arts and Crafts, DIY around ramshackle when the birdman lets her have time for that

Talents: Does beast taming count?

Likes: Japanese Cheesecake/fluffy desserts

Dislikes: Black Licorice

VA: Atsumi Tanezaki

Nicknames: Vic or Vivi (Adeuce), Herbivore (Leona), Henchman no.2 (Grim), Petite trickster (Rook), Shrimpy (Floyd)

The (Vice) Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, Vicki never imagined her life would get turned upside down for the second time when she found herself isekaied into Twisted Wonderland. Having been a Junior in her old high school, She finds herself as a 1st year in NRC, navigating her way through this new world as she makes new unlikely friends along the way.

Vicki isn't an extrovert nor is she an introvert, though she may seem like the latter at first due to her not being very talkative. Most of the time, Vicki doesn't know how to talk to her peers due to her overthinking a lot. She tends to look distant and uninterested at first, but get to know her and she shows her cheeky and chaotic side. As much as she would like to relax and enjoy her new chance at high school life and stay out of trouble, trouble seems to find her wherever she goes. At least she has the Adeuce duo to watch her back.

Sometimes she tenses up and suddenly acts defensive and curt, mainly around certain individuals and strangers. Case in point, Vicki doesn't like being casually touched by people she isn't familiar with, often backing away if possible or taking their hands off of her. She tends to be dodgy when confronted with personal/nosy questions, giving brief answers or avoiding answering altogether. Being pushed to give answers will result in Vicki getting angry, sending a glare as a sign to stop. Despite these flaws, she is very loyal to her friends and wouldn't dare think about abandoning them in any situation. She is quick to think on her feet, coming up with spontaneous solutions in dire situations. Vicki can be impulsive at times, but it doesn't compare to both Grim's and Adeuce's tomfoolery.

Extra trivia

Vicki is Japanese-American

She is twisted from Morgan (Enchanted + Disenchanted)

She can speak some Japanese.

She used to practice writing in Hiragana and Katakana when she was younger

While Vicki does do arts and crafts, she loves origami the most

Her dad was the one who taught her origami, as it gave her a connection to her roots and was their favourite activity to do together

Vicki loves making paper cranes and will give them to her friends as gifts

Just like Silver, she can talk to animals

Everyone thinks she's magicless due to her inability to use various types of magic (This will be explained later)

[girl-named-matty]

Do you have any headcanons for Professor Sharp, including his boggart? Sorry about spamming your asks.

No need to apologize! I love the asks ❤️

Random Professor Sharp headcanons by me!

Ah yes, Aesop Sharp 

Dude was definitely in Slytherin without a doubt. 

He’s probably a half-blood or a pureblood.

He is TALL. I imagine if he had any siblings they would be pretty tall too. 

He did not want to become a professor at first. He had no interest in being around any kid or teenager so why would he? But he was good at potions and thought that the next generation of witches and wizards needed a good teacher, so he took the position as Potions professor. 

He was a really good Auror and he loved his job, which is another reason why he took it so hard when he could no longer work as one. 

He and Solomon Sallow probably worked together at least once while they were both Aurors. 

He’s unmarried and has no kids. Although he was close to getting married once, he was engaged but then it just didn’t work out and they both parted their ways. 

Very reserved guy. He doesn’t talk much unless he has to. 

Doesn’t allow tomfoolery in his classroom. Joking around? Detention. Talking too loud while he’s giving a lecture? Detention. He already has to deal with Garreth all the time, he’s not about to let any other kid disrupt the classroom as well. 

There was a Dueling club similar to Crossed Wands dueling club back when Aesop was in school and he attended it regularly. He was actually pretty good at it. 

Out of all the professors, he probably talks to Professor Black the most, but he often has conversations with Professor Weasley, Professor Kogowa, and Professor Ronen. 

He had a hard enough time dealing with Garreth’s older brothers when they were at school and so when Garreth showed up and was ten times worse, he about had a heart attack. 

Had to lock his office specifically cuz Garreth would always sneak in and grab potion ingredients and blow up the classroom. 

If he played quidditch in school, he probably was a chaser or beater. 

Hates when people bring up the injury to his leg and the fact that he has a limp. Although he won’t get mad when his students ask why.

After years of working as a Professor, he did soften up a bit and he actually grew pretty fond of his students even if they made him want to yank his hair out 24/7 with how much of a handful they could be. 

That being said, since your fears change with the new experiences you have. I’d honestly say that Sharp’s boggart would probably have to do with losing one of his students. As stressful as they are, he cares a lot about them and their safety which is another reason why he gets mad at Garreth a lot.

He won’t admit it but he’s dreading the day Garreth graduates school because he knows his job will get boring again until the next chaotic Weasley joins in. 

Knows Sebastian and Ominis surprisingly well. He’s not too fond of the other slytherin students but he liked Sebastian and Ominis because although Sebastian is a troublemaker, they’re both intelligent and he doesn’t feel like he’s having to explain things 100 times over while talking to them. 

That and he pities Ominis sometimes for always failing tests. He’s definitely tried to personally tutor him in hopes to help him in potions. 

[floweyheadcanons]

That's so cute!!! (The only thing inaccurate to Undertale Red & Yellow is that Chara doesn't come back, though I believe in the future they do) What's Flowey's relationship with Dalv like? Do you think that after Clover came back that they went on small adventures together? Would Chara join them? What's Flowey's relationship with Papyrus as well? Does Clover ( as well as Chara) know that Flowey has Papyrus as a friend (And a fan club)?

(I'M OBSESSED WITH FLOWEY/CLOVER FRIENDSHIP IF YOU COULDN'T TELL!! LOVE MY LITTLE GUY HAS A FRIEND!!!! I HIVE YOU HUG AND COOKIE LITTLE FLOWER FRIEND!! WHAT COOKIE YOU EVEN LIKE? Can I also add a headcannon to the asks as well?)

I think Flowey and Dalv's friendship is for the most part chill. While Flowey enjoys more eventful days, sometimes he just wants a break and to have at least a little normalcy in his life. That's what Dalv is there for! I like to think Flowey would probably tease Dalv about things like having a balloon named Pops for a friend, jokingly threatening to pop him, general tomfoolery.

After Clover comes back, Flowey would try to hide how emotional he'd get because erm he's the cool guy here but end up probably shedding some tears anyway. They'd definitely go on little adventures for old time's sake, Flowey would want to hog Clover for himself because that's HIS best friend!!! Get OUTTA HERE MARTLET!!!!

Sadly, Chara would not join them. They'd just be watching off in the distance because advnetures aren't really their thing imo. They just wanna chill after being brought back since it would take a bit of getting used to. Maybe bully Frisk for being a weird kid!!!!

Flowey's relationship with Papyrus is sorta similar to Clover except he has less of an attachment and is more willing to mess with Papyrus' head because he's silly like that!! They're still comfy together ofc, and I think Papyrus has a statistically higher chance of calming Flowey down than any other Undertale cast member, with Sans just behind him. Flowey tends to like pushing limits with Papyrus, testing how far he can go and how much he can manipulate before Papyrus says "No." I think Papyrus wants to make Flowey happy at the end of the day and would sacrifice so much to see him smile. He'd probably make up a birth date for Flowey since he wouldn't know his actual birthday just so he can celebrate him!! Flowey's his critic and is like the most honest about how the food tastes to him. "Icky, icky! Throw it in the bin!!" He's also accidentally the reason Papyrus makes so much spaghetti, he can tolerate it better than most of Papyrus' other test foods.

On the topic of like messing with Papyrus' head, he's doing it to see how he'd react to multiple scenarios. When Flowey cares a lot about a person he ends up trying to find their TRUE SELF!! To gain a complete understanding of them. Flowey would trap Papyrus in a maze and give him treats to keep him going.

They do not know about the Flowey Fanclub!!! Clover would wanna join while Chara would be like "erm what the fuck when did my brother become so popular???" and just judge everyone there. On the topic of the fanclub they probably have their little nerd meetings and occasionally Flowey pulls up, making them go all "YOO!!! YOO!!! IT'S HIM HE'S HERE!!! FLOWEYYYY!!!!!"

psst, flowey loves raisin cookies :]

heh. you can post your headcanons anytime!! (evil)

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Okay, another thing that's sending me PLACES:

The fact that Eddie's the one who convinces Buck to hustle his poker family.

It's so much fun to see (and so many hearteyes), but on a more serious note here: How wonderful is this for a guy like him???

Like, we've learned about Eddie that he had to grow up fast and be "the man in the house", while his father was gone. Since last season, we know how deeply that trauma's run for him (and how that affected his marriage and his first interactions with his son, until he decided to break the vicious cycle). In that way, Eddie likely didn't have as much unrestrained fun as children his age were having (and were supposed to have).

That already made my heart melt for him in his interactions with the rest of the 118. They fool around, they play games, they play pranks. And Eddie's a happy participant in all of them.

But the poker thing is the first time (if memory doesn't fail me) that we see Eddie *initiate* the tomfoolery. Like, it could've been that he initiated e.g. pranks on Bobby or Hen before, but we never got to see it. He was simply part of the pranksters. But here, we very clearly see that Buck has no idea why they are getting dressed up and go out.

Like, ever since Eddie started therapy, he's come more into his own. And I love to see how comfortable he feels, particularly with Buck, to "let loose" and have unrestrained fun. More so because he seemingly grasped that he has to find things to do that aren't entirely about Christopher. He's having "another family" he's enjoying adult fun with. They don't talk about his kid. It's not about him being a dad. Eddie is just Eddie, playing poker (and looking hella dapper).

And I do believe that this is so special foremost in his interactions with Buck. Because normally, you'd expect Buck to be like this all the time, with Eddie reigning him in. But here we have Eddie going like: Babe, let's do crime. Whereas Buck just makes Confused Buck Noises™.

Eddie is comfortable with the 118 and especially with Buck in... basically being the version of himself he had to store away for a long time. And I do believe Buck being the way he is actually helped Eddie open up to that side of him. Because Buck is often immature (affectionate). He's the guy who pouts about wanting to do treasure hunts. And Eddie acts all cool until they are among themselves, and then he's a total muppet about it.

Which is a long-ass way of saying:

Just how perfect are they for each other???

Like, Buck's personality helps Eddie reconnect with what I feel is a part he's neglected for a long time. And he's so much more comfortable with it now that he can perceive himself much better as "just Eddie" and not just dad or firefighter.

And to flip that back on its head another time, Eddie's personality matches Buck's in so many ways that it'd deserve a separate post. But two things stand out to me in the current context of the narrative:

1) Eddie seemingly gets Buck out of his own head, by letting him hustle poker with him. Last episode, Buck was very restless until he finally got home to the OTC (One True Couch™). So maybe Eddie wasn't just in for the money (or steaks) but also to be closer to Buck and to offer him a way not get lost in his head. That it's okay to have fun again, after what he just went through, even though he will have to think about his trauma many more times. Which would be very much on-brand for Eddie. And it might be just what Buck needs.

2) Eddie's welcoming Buck into those "secret" or private places and shares them with him. I think it was very purposeful that Eddie was shown to have kept that poker club from Buck, but then invites him into this space (and then drops the 3 minutes and 17 seconds line). It's just a that one sentence, but in that space, Eddie lets Buck catch a glimpse at that horrible moment that lasted 3 minutes and 17 seconds. He invites Buck to spend time with him and Christopher and places it inside Buck's apartment (he's extending his home to include Buck's). He lets him crash on his couch and makes Buck talk about his feelings in his kitchen. That is very much the opposite of what Buck got as a child, as he is more accustomed to radio silence and not being allowed to be part of certain parts of peoples' lives.

And I think that's something this episode highlighted beautifully. How their personalities and ways of going about each other facilitate one another to feel more comfortable being themselves. Be it in reconnecting with a part of their childhood they had to let go of, or giving them a chance to exist without any labels for their various purposes (firefighter, donor, dad, miracle baby (I'm still salty over that one, Margaret!!!), legal guardian, etc.). They are just Eddie and Buck, and they give each other the opportunity and inspire each other to create that room for themselves.

And I think that's just beautiful.

And damn sexy.

I mean.

Look at them:

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

a sequel to this (more "trent being a disaster" silliness and thumbs up tomfoolery!)

for @mvshortcut; without whom this would not have happened!

(ao3.)

Alex Carmichael still doesn’t entirely know what to make of Trent Crimm.

He’s well aware of the man’s reputation, but it had been weeks, and no article had dropped—not so much as a whisper. As far as he or Seth could tell, there was no story being dropped, no rumors flying.

Trent Crimm had definitely seen them, but he had, apparently, told no one.

More perplexingly, he had given them one (1) single thumbs up.

What on earth they were supposed to do with this, Alex wasn’t sure. Seth was pretty sure it was an attempt at a white flag—more we come in peace than we surrender, but still.

Alex didn’t really care, so long as Crimm didn’t publish an article about it. Which he didn’t. So whatever.

Best not to think about it.

And then, months later, they were at a relatively normal press conference, and Alex was in the back of the room watching his gaffer yak on about whatever, and he spots Trent Crimm in the crowd of reporters, with his notebook, being a normal reporter.

And, like it’s fate, he looks up and sees Alex.

Not unlike the moment in the club, it would be the sort of moment in which time should really be slowing down dramatically.

Because, well. Alex had the potential to do something very funny right now. And Alex has always liked being funny. Probably why he got called a little shit so often.

Alex looks the journalist right in the eyes. He is doing an impressive impression of a steady person who isn’t nervous at all.

And before he can casually look away, Alex slowly raises one hand, and gives him a thumbs up.

Trent—blinks. And then Alex gets the rare, singular joy of watching Trent Crimm briefly, but very visibly, regret having ever been born.

Alex puts his hand down, but no one else seems to have noticed, nor are they noticing that Alex is still staring down one journalist in particular.

Trent puts a hand up to his forehead, thumb to the temple and fingers covering his eyes, like he’s exhausted, clearly no longer paying attention to the press conference.

And then, after a painful moment, still not looking up or removing his hand from his face, returns the thumbs up.

This is the greatest moment of Alex Carmichael’s life.

.

Alex and Seth make a game of it after that.

They don’t go out of their way to see Trent Crimm, but, you know, if he’s there…

The funny thing is, he always returns it. Even when he looks deeply embarrassed. They’ve never spoken a word to him, but he always returns the thumbs up.

At one point Alex watches as one of his neighboring colleagues, frowning, leans over to ask him something Alex can’t hear, to which Trent Crimm snaps at them defensively and they hold their hands up in a show of defeat.

Alex is pretty sure Seth was right by now. It was also funny, because, well, the rumors didn’t stop—they still heard about what a ruthless wanker Trent Crimm apparently was, saw him eviscerate someone in an interview with a few calm words and a raised eyebrow, saw his articles which were, while not generally cruel or even always mean, certainly sharp.

He's exactly the man they were afraid of when they saw him. And he’s also the man that gives them a mortified little thumbs up every time they see him, just because. And he’s the man who’s never told a soul.

.

There’s a particularly nasty article from Trent Crimm one evening—not about either of them, but a teammate—and while it’s not necessarily unfair, and it’s certainly not dishonest, it is harsh. And, you know, that’s their teammate.

So when Trent looks over at them—which he always does now, when they’re there, like habit, they both give him matching, solemn thumbs downs.

Trent Crimm’s eyes widen. His face visibly falls. What the fuck. Why does Alex feel like he just kicked a puppy.

Beside him, Seth wavers. He tilts his hand so that the thumbs down is now sideways, with a sort of half-apologetic grimace. Alex elbows him. Seth hisses something along the lines of look at his face.

Alex looks back at Trent Crimm. The rest of the press conference is continuing around them, unnoticing and undeterred. Trent Crimm is apparently oblivious to this, because he is staring directly at them with huge eyes.

What the hell.

Alex refuses to retract his thumbs down.

Trent Crimm looks quietly miserable the rest of the press conference. He does not ask any questions.

.

(The next press conference, which is business-as-usual as far as Trent’s articles and Levels of Badness (thanks Lilo) go, Seth gives him a double thumbs up.

He genuinely brightens, and Alex would like to know when this became his life. He gives a thumbs up, too. Just one. Which Trent returns, because of course he does. How had this running joke become something else? Whatever this was? What the hell?)

(And since when did Trent Crimm give a damn what anyone thought of him? Or light up under the simple, mind-numbingly vague praise of a single thumbs up? Again, Alex must reiterate: what the hell?)

.

One of the other players asks Alex what the fuck’s up with him, Seth, and Trent Crimm.

Don’t Worry About It, Alex says. He eyes Alex skeptically, but doesn’t push it.

When asked, Seth chirps, “We’re all part of the same secret underground cult,” to which he is clapped on the back and told if you didn’t want to answer you could have just said so, mate.

In private, Alex reminds Seth that being gay isn’t a cult. Seth says it’s “close enough”. Alex squints at him and decides this joke isn’t worth elaborating on further.

.

Alex finds himself actually checking for Trent’s articles now. Fuck, when did he start thinking of him as Trent?

They’ve literally never said a word to the man outside of the very occasional professional and brief comment or what-have-you, during which there were always many other people.

And yet.

They might have a completely unique perspective on the man. I mean, obviously they didn’t know much about his personal life, but at the very least, in the professional sports world, no one quite knew Trent Crimm the way they did, albeit in a strange and distant sort of way.

And anyway, admittedly, things have taken an interesting turn. Trent primarily covers AFC Richmond, which is why they didn’t necessarily see him regularly.

His preliminary article on the new gaffer is scathing, although for once, Alex can’t really fault him for it. He’s ruthless in the press room—hell, that offside rule question was just kind of mean, but Alex could respect he was proving a point (or really, driving it home).

And then there was his next article. It was… bemusing. And although hardly glowing, that last line—but I can’t help but root for him—is telling indeed.

(Their usual thumbs up was exchanged, as usual, once in this interval.)

And it wasn’t as if Alex or Seth knew Trent Crimm well—in fact, they very much didn’t—nor was it as if this whole thing, whatever it was, was an enormous part of their lives. Once it became clear that they were not being outed, it was, in fact, not a big deal at all.

If anything, it was kind of amazing Alex and Seth were still together at all—albeit very discreetly—and that not a lot else had changed.

But all of this to say, despite it not exactly being a huge thing in their lives, they still took notice when Trent began taking—an odd turn.

The thumbs up thing largely remained the same. But his press conferences at Richmond—less so.

Seth insisted Trent had a thing for the new gaffer, which, frankly, didn’t seem far out of the realm of possibility.

(Seth wanted to make a little mustache with his pointer finger and then do a particularly enthusiastic thumbs up next time they saw him to show their support, but Alex pointed out that their little thumbs up game was already noticeable, if dismissible as a strange joke—that would be far easier to decode into something dangerous. Seth reluctantly acquiesced.)

Anyway, it was weird, but not that concerning.

.

Okay, it was a little concerning now.

The day Trent Crimm’s article drops on Coach Lasso’s panic attacks, Alex says, “Oh, shit,” and Seth wonders if maybe he was wrong about his thing with the gaffer entirely.

They are definitely planning to pull out the big guns (aka: the Double Thumbs Down Of Doom) only to find that he isn’t in the press room at all.

“What the fuck,” Seth whispers.

They find out he got himself fired.

“What the fuck,” Seth whispers.

.

So is that just it? Their weird little thumbs up game is over forever now?

Weirdly, Alex feels cheated. What the hell, Trent?

It’s not like they’re likely to just run into each other on the street. He’s half a mind to find the man’s email just so he can send him a single blank email with the subject line “👍”.

Or possibly “👎” but honestly, kicking a man while he was down just seemed unnecessary.

.

“Alex, you are not going to believe this,” said Seth.

Trent was writing a book about Richmond. About that gaffer.

Was it weird to be proud of him?

“Not at all,” Seth said. “He’s like our son. Our weird, endearing, twice-our-age, journalist son, who we have never spoken a word to.”

Yeah, that tracked.

.

Seeing him for the first time in-person as a former journalist was bizarre. They were at some boring press event, with multiple teams, that, let’s be honest, the author can’t be fucked to give you a good explanation for, because this is a crack fic and he’s been up since god knows when and it’s 7 am now, and they spot him across the room.

He appears to be talking to Coach Lasso, and waving his hands animatedly, more excited than they’ve ever seen him. Lasso is watching him like he’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. They’re tucked in the back corner—Alex only spotted them at all because he’d been looking for a quiet place to retreat to a bit for a breather—and Trent looks… relaxed.

He doesn’t look like the fearsome journalist they’d been terrified of outing them, or like the man who, only a few years ago, had asked a rather mean question of the very man he was talking to, on live television, just to prove a point.

In fact, Alex is pretty sure he’s looking at the dork that gave him and his boyfriend a thumbs up in a gay bar and then immediately ran away.

Perhaps this is why he does what he does next, which is an entirely impulsive action.

He cups his hands over his mouth and calls, “Hey, Trent!”

Trent Crimm jumps, startled, and then looks over in his direction. And his mouth falls open. Lasso turns to look his way, too, then, unperturbed, looks back to Trent and says something inaudible in the crowd.

Trent doesn’t take his eyes off Alex, though. Alex gives him a double thumbs up.

Trent—flushes. Ducks his head and says something to Lasso. Lasso beams. Lasso turns to him and gives him a big thumbs up. Trent, still hiding his face, more openly mortified than he’s been since the first time, gives a considerably smaller thumbs up.

Alex takes his eyes off them for a second, wondering where Seth has wandered off to, and when he looks back they are headed towards him. Or, more accurately, Lasso is cheerfully headed towards him, while Trent is trailing behind him like a lost duckling or a dog being dragged balefully forward by his leash.

“Heya!” says Lasso brightly. Trent Crimm, Thumbs Up Extraordinaire, says nothing.

Before Alex can say anything, Seth, who had apparently been approaching from behind, says, “Ooh, are we talking to Trent now? Hi, Trent! Hi, Trent’s new muse!”

Trent made a strangled noise. Alex elbowed Seth, hard. Lasso seemed unfazed.

“Howdy!” he says, like a fucking stereotype. “How do y’all know Trent? He refuses to elaborate.”

“He’s our son,” Seth said without missing a beat.

“I am not,” says Trent Crimm, the first words he has actually said out loud to them outside of a professional capacity.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mr. Crimm,” says Lasso with zero fucking hesitation. Alex likes him.

“Ted, they’re at least a decade younger than me,” says Trent. “If anything, they’d be my sons.”

“Incorrect,” said Alex. “You’re our son now, sorry.”

“How,” said Trent.

“…Creatively,” said Seth thoughtfully, “And with science.”

“Science can do wonderful things,” Lasso agreed gamely.

“How did we even get to this idea,” said Trent, sounding exasperated and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Walk me through the thought process here.”

“No comment,” said Alex. Seth just shrugged.

.

This was how they somehow ended up spending at least an hour or two in the company of Trent Crimm.

Lasso did leave at one point (during which Seth immediately turned to Trent and said “is he our son-in-law?” and made him choke on his drink) but he wandered back eventually.

It was—well. extremely weird. And hardly a normal progression of a relationship. But perhaps the weirdest part was how not weird it felt—Trent Crimm seemed to have relaxed substantially. They’d already noticed this on some level, but talking to him up close, it was even more obvious.

The dissonance all those years ago between the ruthless reporter everyone was wary of, that they were wary of, and the awkward, trying-his-best gesture of a thumbs up of all things, was no longer here. The two pictures had blended into one: Trent Crimm, former journalist and current biographer, who was both sharp-tongued and a complete dork.

.

(They did end up baffling any guests who came too close, except for Lasso, who seemed to just be taking it in stride even though Trent had been firm that he hadn’t told him how they’d met.

“It’s like I said,” Seth said sagely. “Trent’s like our son. Our middle-aged journalist son who we’ve only ever exchanged thumbs ups with. As you do.”

“Still better fathers than my father,” muttered Trent into his drink, definitely not intending to be heard.

“Oh, so you’ve chosen to finalize the adoption,” Alex says as Seth begins to vibrate.

Ms. Welton looked like she didn’t know how to react to any of these statements, which was fair. Seth is currently trying to convince Trent they should “play catch sometime”.)

.

In the end, they do get his email (Alex sends him a message with the subject line “👍” that just reads “hello son” to which he receives an email with the subject line “👎” and no body at all) and leave feeling considerably lighter.

Eventually this will result in:

Alex and Seth meeting their honorary grandchild, one (1) Isadora Crimm, affectionately dubbed “The Crimmlet”, much to Trent’s chagrin.

They will teach The Crimmlet the thumbs up thing and she be thrilled about this. (Also much to Trent’s chagrin.)

You would think it would be Seth that would get drunk, find the phone number of Trent’s father, and prank call him, but you would be wrong. It was Alex.

Alex pleasantly informs him they have adopted is son and he is now sonless. “Pleasantly” here can be defined as “shouting, loudly”.

Trent also meets Seth’s parents (Alex’s are Not To Be Spoken Of) and they, unfortunately, love him. Mischief brews.

Local Football Players Betrayed! Journalist Son Has Another Gay Footballer? More At Eleven

Nevermind, Colin’s Their Grandson/Other Son Now

Through a series of shenanigans and plot happenings… son-in-law acquired.

“I KNEW he had a thing for Lasso!” Seth crows.

Jamie would like to know why Trent gets a thumbs up for his signal and he gets a very different finger.

Through yet more Happenings and Tomfoolery, Seth and Alex get married. They both tried to propose on the same day, and the ensuing chaos of two wildly conflicting dramatic proposals happening on top of each other nearly resulted in a few arrests. Trent is not the best man but he is certainly in attendance.

They ask him if he wants to be flower girl. He very nearly takes them up on it out of spite.

Generally, while the strange Thumbs Up Arrangement™ had been funny, actually getting to know the man—and being known in return—was better. Wildly unexpected and deeply bizarre, but better. He was a good friend.

But all that’s later, and considerably more chapters than the author can afford. You know it’s past 7 pm now? Since writing those words, one sentence later, it is now 10 pm.

For now, Seth and Alex end up in the same bed after a long night, and they kiss, and then they’re not thinking about Trent Crimm or any thumbs, up or otherwise, for a while.

[school-life-club-rui-official]

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES

okay so. first and foremost hi hello its richie an-inspired-eternity about to make my brainrot everyone elses problem.

BASICALLY. this barbie rui has trauma from a zombie apocalypse! except the rpverse summoning tomfoolery has pulled him (and friends) into a world that. NOTABLY IS LACKING IN THAT. SO NOW HAS TO INTERACT WITH A WORLD WHERE THINGS ARE NORMAL AND PEOPLE ARE STILL ALIVE AND ITS 😰😰😰

this IS based on an existing media (that i AM writing a au fic for. eventually.) but im keeping it loose for the sake of rpverse stuff

masterlist:

pre rpverse info under the read more

(last updated 01/06)

rui and the wxs were at kamiyama high (emu snuck in. as she does) when things went wrong, ultimately being the only ones who both survived and stayed at the school (as for vbs, they probably left before things got chaotic or they escaped during it)

tbh maybe vbs holed up in weekend garage with ken

ena mizuki and kanade (+ mafuyu if kanamafu already live together i dont have anything concrete outside of wxs)

as most zombie media goes, it was something deliberately created that then got out of control, but certain buildings (schools, in the case of a were designed with the resources to house people long term (but people didnt know that so with the panic it wasnt used as it could have been)

before internet was lost, characters probably called/message each other to confirm their whereabouts/safety

ANYWAY back to wxs so they holed up at kamiyama, and of course the trauma of being a teenager in a apocalypse starts taking its toll, so the school life club was created, as a sense of normalcy to cope with what they were going through (ie: they live at school because its one of the places that has the resources to sustain people living there- in the media this is based on one of these is a rooftop garden with fruits and vegetables)

however.. its only so easy to maintain your mental stability during a time like this, and emu kind of.. cracks under the pressure, after a bit. unsure of if her friends outside of wxs or worse her family were okay, the way her brain chooses to cope is she goes from pretending things are normal to fully believing it, talking to people who aren't there. and because she thinks she's really at school, sometimes it's people who go to miya and not kamiyama

the rest of wxs are. obviously extremely worried by this. but there isnt much they can actually do. because if they try to force her out of it it might make it worse

so instead they mostly focus on keeping on top of the survival stuff while letting emu do her thing atleast within a safe range of them

[tf2-oneshots]

Dad spy trying to explain to scout that he is in fact his dad and not tom jones. Tomfoolery ensues. This is up to interpretation make of this ask what you will. Thank you, xoxo.

Using this as my first angst prompt sorry in advance!

Warnings: angst, abandonment, past bullying

Rating: Teen and up

Two dainty knocks land on Scout’s door. Must be Spy. When you work with the same eight guys for six years, you memorize how each one of them knocks on your door. Scout sets his comic book aside and sits upright on his bed. So much for a lazy Sunday.

“Come in.” He calls out. Spy opens the door, taking only a couple steps into the room. He peers around as if to ensure that no one else was present. She really wishes someone was here to avoid this.

“Scout, I would like to talk to you about something.” The door shuts behind Spy, but he doesn’t move. Like he’s frozen where he stands. God, how did her plan go? He thought of the millions of ways this could end, and only one was a good ending.

“Uh, okay? What is it?” Scout raises a brow. Usually, people only talk to him when he has a contract or did something wrong. On the rare occasion, its to move his motorcycle to another parking spot. Why does she look so emotionless?

Spy takes a seat on the edge of Scout’s bed. The man pulls his legs against his chest, giving her a bit of room. Everything feels so surreal. Maybe this is just a dream, and Spy will gasp awake in his bed when Scout throttles him. She really hopes it’s all just a dream.

“Tom Jones died in his 20s, Scout. You are aware of this, yes?” Off to a weird start. Scout prides himself in being the president of the Tom Jones fan club. He knows every single fact about the man down to the exact instruments he uses in every song. To not know how old his idol was when Merasmus broke his neck, according to the newspapers at least, would be unheard of.

“Uh, yeah. Too young to go if, uh, you ask me.” Spy nods. They can agree on that. Dying before 30 is tragically young for anyone, famous or not. She looks over to the younger man whose gaze is focused on a Tom Jones poster.

“Much too young. Too young to be your father as well.” He braces for a slap, but nothing happens. Scout stays silent. Maybe he didn’t hear her. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear. Spy takes a slow breath, back to staring at the wall.

“Scout, I…” It’s right there. Right fucking there on her tongue. He can taste the words begging to slip from his lips. Spy hates what a coward he is. She spent 24 years on the run, but the past caught up to bite her in the ass. Damn, does he wish he had a cigarette.

“I…met a woman in my youth. She had seven children, and I adored them. So much so that…we made an eighth. His name was Jeremy.” Damnit, damnit, damnit all! She always dances around with hidden meanings and half assed phrases. It seems that Spy’s own heart wears a mask.

“You…were that boy. Scout, I—“ As he turns to Scout, she sees the disgust on his face. His button nose scrunched tightly with eyes narrowed. Scout gets off of his bed, staring down at Spy.

“Don’t fucking joke about that.” His legs are shaking. Scout tries to breathe, but it’s short and trembling. How could Spy be so cruel to say that? Scout remembers how miserable being fatherless was as a child. He watched so many dads carry their sons into ice cream shops. He saw them in the stands wearing messy ties made in Home EC during sewing lessons.

It wasn’t just jealousy he suffered from. When word got out about Scout not having a dad, he was tormented relentlessly. He spent one Father’s Day getting shoved in a locker. That’s when he dislocated his shoulder and had to fend off an eighth grader with one hand. He really wishes his last oldest brother didn’t move on to high school that year.

“Scout, I have nothing to gain from a joke. You’re my son, and I’m so sorry for leaving.” Spy sighs, fighting the lump in her throat. She remembers the swarm of little boys around his legs, eager to meet their new baby brother. He still recalls sitting on the floor, chuckling as they surrounded him, leaning in to finally meet Jeremy.

“My dad’s dead.” That’s what Ma told him on his seventh birthday. Scout had grown curious as to why all of his friends had dads but not him. Not any of his brothers actually unless the handful of birthday cards in the mail counts. A couple with money and others empty without even a drop of ink written on them.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, so I told your mother to say that.” It was heartbreaking how unfazed Caroline was when Spy told her. She had endured it seven times before, so how painful could an eighth be? The only part that stung, she admitted, was that Spy bothered to stay. Even if only long enough to witness Scout’s first steps, he gave Caroline hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, someone else could commit to the parent role.

Scout turns away, fists clenched before he grips his hair. Ma would never lie to him. She’s a good mother, and she loves Scout more than anything. She’d be honest if his dad was a deadbeat who was in over his head. All of his older brothers know what happened to their dads. Dead, arrested, second family, ran off, and so forth.

“Scout, please, I—“ Spy stands, placing a hand on his shoulder only for it to be shrugged off. Scout keeps his head down to stare at his feet. He gulps, eyes shut to fight back tears.

“My dad is dead.” That’s the truth. That’s the only truth. Scout won’t listen to anything else. His dad died when he was a baby. There’s a headstone somewhere in America with his name etched onto it. Scout will never meet him no matter what.

“…Okay.” Spy purses her lips. He nods, trying to understand how Scout feels. Maybe one day he’ll come around. Maybe he’ll stab her in her sleep. He wipes away tears and takes a breath before leaving the younger’s room. Some things are better left the way they are.

Poor Spy can we get an F in the chat -H

[thebananwithaplan]

The good news is that the boys and Dandie were far, far away from the tomfoolery that was about to happen.

DB had been holding most of the clones off as much as he could without his base weapons - he still had one more mic, the csr bstteries and letters, and his fists, after all - but as the clones suddenly retreated back to the main Foise...

...Was the whole studio expanding?

A big THUD and rumble....

And suddenly, giant rubble and falling Pizza Tower enemies were everywhere.

Banana was lucky to have warped away from a rather giant piece, but there's only so much room to run and take cover for everyone else...

Maybe, if he switched to a form that he hadn't taken in ages...

😇 "We already helped as much as we could. There's no shame in going back home, you know."

😈 "You KNOW how risky that version of the form is, do you? If you switch up and end up taking way too much damage in that form, I'M gonna have to take over."

"...That's a risk I'm willin' to take." Really. He doesn't doubt that the Noise and Peppino survived getting clubbed by the entire tower. But just in case the worst-case scenario, there's still many others in here that are at risk of being injured, either from the rubble or the Foise himself.

So the banan' danced again. (Warning: bright imagery. Swearing and drug mention, too. I just thought this remix sounded cool.)

His form morbidly shifting from his current 3D self to a more pixelated one...

And began to flash as he danced.

As he danced, another giant piece of rubble fell straight for him... which instead of squashing him down, only exploded upon impact of the top of the now-jagged banana's head. Just in the nick of time too, now that the flashing effect ended.

"......." That's right-

It was time to go Ironcommando on all that falling debris.

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Ace of Spades

A Love of Horror Drabble

Check out masterlist here

“Pick a card, any card”.

Dieter clumsily fanned out the deck of cards in front of you. You randomly selected one and held it close.

“Now, look but don’t tell what it is because I will tell you through the power of mind reading.”

His hands waved about wildly in some attempt at a sexy David Copperfield look but ended up with an adorably wild Dieter look.

“Obviously it can’t be the ace of spades so it’s hearts. Clubs? Diamond? Spades?”

You held back a giggle.

“Yes, it’s spades. We’re in the numbers but are we high or low numbers?”

His head looked like it was going to explode, and you could not contain your giggles.

“I’m not laughing, I’m not”. You snorted.

“I’m trying to impress you with my mind reading powers here.”

“Dieter, you don’t need to impress me, I already like you.”

“You do?”

You nodded and he bashfully blushed.

“Besides, your Vincent Price impression was the thing that impressed me.”

“Really? Well, why didn’t you say anything? It would’ve saved me from all this magic tomfoolery. What was the card anyways?”

You showed him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? The ace of spades?!!!”

Lovingly tagging @cevans-is-classic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

what if ronnie and bradley were vampires but they suck at it? (ha)

But like seriously, they're both in their sixties or something when they meet Jake and they are still constantly having to move because one of them messes up in front of the humans. Jake is like "the evidence points to vampire, but that can't possibly be true, because they're throwing m&ms at each other in this diner."

omg i freaking love this 😂 the sheer comedy of errors, the tomfoolery, the what we do in the shadows level of ridiculous.

Ronnie: "I think we're doing an okay job at blending in this time. I think we'll get to stay in this town for a good few years before we have to move on."

Cut to Brad just casually turning into a bat in front of a bunch of teenagers after asking them: "wanna see a cool trick?"

Brad started the pornstache trend in the 80s and is trying to bring it back now.

But also....for your consideration....something that got away from me:

"God, you're a sweet one aren't ya?" Ronnie asked as she pressed her nose into his neck, smelling the coppery scent of his blood - hearing the rush of it in her ears.

Jake thought, when he took this girl out into the alley behind the club, that he would at the least get a nice makeout session with her. Maybe he would get to take her back to the hotel he was staying in. But she wasn't anything like he anticipated. As soon as they were alone she had him pinned against the brick wall by a strength that surprised him and also had his cock twitching in his jeans.

"Darlin', I ain't sweet," he replied, slightly breathless - overwhelmed as she licked a slow stripe up his neck.

"Oh, but you are." Her teeth grazed his pulse point, where his jugular flowed free and strong. "You're like sunshine."

He was all tan skin and golden hair and Southern charm. Not her usual type. But he was so inviting, and so wanting as he talked her up in the club and danced with her to the beat of some song with no words. But she had to admit, she liked the contrast of her skin against this own. Pale as porcelain, hair dark like the night. It made a pretty picture, one she wanted to keep around for a while.

So she amped up the charm, flashed him that smile with canines just a bit too long, and suddenly he was tilting his head to the side. Exposing that pretty pulsing vein. Jake felt so calm, and he didn't even know why. At that moment, he would let her do anything she wanted to him.

Then he felt her teeth rip into his neck. Reality slammed back into him for a moment. He squirmed, but it felt...Good. And soon, he was relaxed again. Slumped against the wall as she hummed into the meat of his neck.

Ronnie drank greedily from him, hand curling around the back of his neck. He tasted like sunshine too. And as she drank, he just became more pliant in her hands. The venom coursing through his veins making him want it, want her. She could feel him, already hard and aching against her abdomen as he squeezed her sides.

"What's...?" he slurred, trying to think straight.

But he found that he couldn't once she slotted her thigh between his own, allowing him to rut against her freely. He groaned as she finally released his neck from her teeth. Ronnie wiped at her chin, grinning at him with fangs pointed like knives.

"You seem nice," she told him as he continued to work himself against her, unable to stop. "So I'll let you live. Just don't come crawling back for more. Okay, Sunshine?"

Jake didn't know if he could ever not want more of this.

[epickiya722]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

No need to apologize! It's a fun question!

I have a lot of favorites when it comes to characters so I'll name the top ten off the top of my head.

Okay, so on no specific order...

Kaldur'ahm (Young Justice), as a kid watching this show I always thought he was pretty cool from his fighting style to his personality and I still do to this day. As I got older, I also started to see more... complex? Like there's more to him than we got in the show.

Raven (Teen Titans), okay I love all the Titans and Starfire is actually tied with her but I'm gonna talk about Raven. First, her powers. I always wanted her powers as a kid. I really love magic. She was pretty cool in my eyes. I also love her personality, always so quiet and stoic, but still had her fun moments with the others. I also love her color scheme. Purple and black are two of my favorite colors.

Kida (Atlantis: The Lost Empire), she is still my favorite Disney Queen and Princess to this day. Atlantis is my favorite Disney movie, there are few Disney movies I can watch back to back and not get tired of it and Atlantis is one. With Kida, she is not only gorgeous, but badass. She always cares for her people and wanted to do whatever she could to help them. And her relationship with Milo is just so precious to me. I will always love the hand holding scene.

Layla/Aisha (Winx Club), she is my favorite out of the six. I actually didn't have a favorite at first before she came on the scene because I loved all the girls and then she came on and it was like "HER". She's just so caring and sweet and fun. Her fairy outfit is my favorite outfit which is a surprise for me at that time because as a kid, I had this dislike for green but I think she made me feel better about the color. And I still find it unfair what they did to my boy Nabu. I didn't watch the show past season 3, so I found out much later about Nabu and wanted to fight. I loves him and Layla together.

Haru Katou (Balance Unlimited), everyone was more on the rave about Daisuke, but Haru? Haru easily became my favorite because I thought he was prettier and I really liked how he is as a character. Sympathetic, fair, has a bit of a temper, and passionate about what he does. He's even though the story was about Daisuke, his role wasn't overshadowed to me in the overall plot.

Miruko (My Hero Academia), of course, I'm gonna talk about her. Her and Midoriya are tied for #1 for me, but I gotta talk about my girl, Miruko. She is a badass. She is a tiny rabbit woman who fights with just speed and strength. She's confident and fearless. And I love that even though she has thing about teamwork, she isn't a character that refuses to work with others when the need arises. She's also a character to me that I feel like there's more to her. Like there's other deeper details to her that could be explored.

Nico (Nanbaka), overall all the characters from that series are great. Nico, he is precious and a badass. Like he looks like he wouldn't harm a fly but he could and will kick your ass. His love for anime and video games is adorable.

Tanjiro (Demon Slayer), he is compassionate and kind hearted, and best big brother. Also, gotta give it up to that forehead and nose of his. I also love that he straightforward and isn't a pushover, he has this low tolerance for tomfoolery and when he gets angry, he gets angry. He's also quite open minded to his foes. He doesn't treat them all one way. Even of a demon is pure evil, he takes in on their actions, their upcoming and their behavior before considering "is this an enemy I will loathe for the rest of my life or have they at least deserve a bit of sympathy".

Kat Elliott (Wendell & Wild), first off her design is kickass and you can tell they took care into her overall look. It's not often we see black goth characters in media, but Kat is a real treat. She is a rebel, always had this shield up throughout the movie but as the story went on it was clear that she just vulnerable and needed someone to care for her and her relationship with her parents did make me cry because that is a loving family right there.

Kym (Legacies), I find it out unfair how long her appearance in the show lasted because I thought she was a great character. She's outgoing, friendly and beautiful and darn it, her relationship with MG was cute. I wanted to see more of her in the show. She was great! (I also haven't finished Legacies.)