#can i use the new filters to screen out these assholes?

[allhailthe70shousewife]

Go crawl back under your rock, Forced Birth Advocate. I don’t go looking for your posts and comment my beliefs on them. Keep your self-righteous, holier than thou, clueless, fascist bullshit off of mine.

[moku-youbi]

Fallout is seriously almost everything I could ever dream of or hope for out of an adaptation to my all time favourite video game series, and the game that was my gateway to gaming. It captures the soul of the games in a way that is downright astonishing at times, to the point that I felt I was playing the game at many points. Even hating Maximus felt appropriate, given how I feel about the Brotherhood of the Steel (fuck those assholes fr, fr). Titus the absolute tool, I'm over here like:

The way he's freakin' out, I'm like oh shit, it's a Deathclaw. Nope, just a yao guai. And you're in POWER ARMOUR, douchebag. You don't deserve it, that much is true. A little sad we didn't see Mirelurks, but that gulper was a thing of real beauty. My new favourite monster, sorry Cazadors!

Like dear GOD the vaults were so beautifully done. If I could walk through that set I would *cry* it's so real and perfect--the furniture! the wallpaper! the appliances! the SPECIAL skills! (Lucy, girl, let's talk about your stats tho babe). Also just dying thinking of what the antis are gonna say about all the incest and laughing my ass off. They captured Vault-Tech in all it's bastard glory. The entire time I'm on the edge of my seat like omg, what's it gonna be, what's it gonna be??

And the wasteland? All the background characters and sets--chicken fucker! Barv! Dale! The water filter guy was pure fucking genius. RED ROCKET??? GORGEOUS. NEW VEGAS??? Are we gonna see HOUSE??? (though sadly without Rene Auberjonois to play him, legit heart-breaking). and DOGMEAT, MY LOVE!!!! She is the *best girl*

And don't even get me started on the food, I was about to start crying. Do you know how long I've wanted to try blamco mac n cheese or YumYum devilled eggs (my wife was like unrefrigerated eggs wtf and I'm like shut your mouth I KNOW they're delicious, I KNOW IT IN MY SOUL)? To drink a nuka cola? To try Fancy Lads Snack Cakes? And it was all there on the screen looking so real!

And the pip boys and computers!! OMG, every time someone used their pip boy, or when they pulled up the records, and the hacking scene? I was like LET ME DO THIS, I AM SO GOOD AT THIS MINIGAME PLS!!!!

Coop doing his thumbs up???

Beautiful. Magnificent. Absolute Perfection, except...

WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THE COMPHET??? From a game that was way ahead of its time with queer characters and allowing you to romance either gender regardless of player gender, and even offering perks related to being queer, and where romance isn't the focus anyway--like sure, you can woo most of your companions, but that's really only if you want to, and definitely not the point. So why shoehorn this AWFUL romance subplot into something that was truly perfect without it?? It made me distinctly unhappy at several points because it was so shoehorned and unnatural. And like, them boning? Okay, casual sex is a thing in the fallout verse. But making it this love story that made NO SENSE and wasn't developed at all, and relied on the ridiculous boy and girl make eye contact, so obviously they fall in love trope is so fucking lame. Lucy has more chemistry with Coop. She had more chemistry with HER OWN COUSIN. Come *on*.

Let's talk, Nolan.

[maaarine]

Boys & Sex: Young Men on Hookups, Love, Porn, Consent, and Navigating the New Masculinity (Peggy Orenstein, 2020)

"By his sophomore year of high school, Mason was spending about an hour a day immersed in porn.

He watched in his bedroom. He watched in the den. He watched in the bathroom stalls at school. He watched at parties.

It was, he said, as integral to his life as brushing his teeth, eating, drinking, sleeping.

“You can spend so much time in this porn fantasy world that you don’t even look up and live your real life,” he said.

Once, he popped in his earbuds and scrolled through his downloads in the back of the family car after a dentist appointment (no drilling jokes, please), as his brother and mom chatted in the front seat.

“That’s how normalized it became,” he said. “If it was going to be thirty minutes in the car, I might as well watch porn.”

Although at this point Mason had never kissed a girl or even held hands, he said that he half expected that at any moment a “hot woman” would appear out of nowhere and demand to have sex with him.

“That was my whole perception of how it was supposed to go,” he said.

“In porn, women are portrayed as these sexually driven animals. It’s all they want; it’s all they care about. It warped my perception for so long.”

He didn’t realize how much, though, until, at age sixteen, while surfing a Russian social network that allowed him to circumvent his parents’ safety filters, he watched a video of a woman defecating into a hotdog bun.

She poured condiments on the result and handed it to a second woman, who ate it.

I asked Mason if he found that arousing. “It was, kind of,” he admitted.

“Outside of that specific context, I would find this obviously disgusting act to be repulsive. I do find it repulsive.

But it was being portrayed as extremely sexual. That’s what porn does. Just media in general.

Sexualizes anything. Sexualizes people eating poop. And it boggles my mind how easy it was to be drawn in by it all." (…)

The girl herself, who was a year younger than him, also seemed to have taken her cues from porn.

She would writhe and moan when Daniel jackhammered a finger into her vagina.

When he told her he wanted to “take a break” from their relationship, she offered up anal sex to change his mind (although that idea could equally have been inspired by mainstream films such as Kingsman, in which the hero’s incentive for saving a Scandinavian princess is her promise that “we can do it in the asshole”).

He accepted, but the experience was nothing like what he’d seen on-screen.

“It was really difficult,” he recalled, “and it hurt her intensely. She was in pain. That was nothing I wanted to see. It was fucked up. And I felt like shit afterward.”

The two did eventually split up, briefly; they reunited after a round of rough sex in an elementary school parking lot, during which he choked her, pulled her hair, and, at her request, slapped her across the breasts.

That was the first time Daniel climaxed without using his hand. “It was the best sex we ever had,” he recalled.

Certainly, people have predilections, but it’s troubling that both instances of aggressive sex Daniel recounted happened when his girlfriend believed their relationship was in jeopardy.

Daniel himself considers his behavior to be contrary to the intimacy he claims to crave.

He doesn’t know whether that disconnect is natural, part of his wiring as a sexual person, or shaped by his repeated consumption of prepackaged fantasies."

[becca-e-barnes]

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

[katsukikitten]

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

[the-iceni-bitch]

Queen Bitch

Pairing: Paul Diskant x DA fem!reader

Words: ~1.9k

Summary: Every cop in the LAPD hates your ass, but Paul’s finally had enough.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (hate sex, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, scratching, biting, almost slapping, quick and rough sex, semi public sex), severe misogyny, cheating on both ends, bad cop tropes, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: Thank you so much @geminixevans​ for giving me the kick in the ass to finish this thing! Hope it’s not super obvious that I really don’t like cops here, but whatever. Apparently, I really like making everyone in my fics absolute assholes, so sorry, there’s almost no redeeming qualities here except for very hot sex.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library​ and turn on notifications!

“Y/L/N, what the fuck was that?” 

You sighed when Detective Diskant intercepted you on your way out of court, almost reaching out to grab your arm then thinking better of it at the last minute.

“That was me giving you and that idiot partner of yours a chance to actually give me a case I can fucking use.” You tapped your foot irritably while he glared at you.

“We had a fucking case, there was a witness!” He had never been so frustrated, you’d tanked cases of his before, but this was a murder.

“You mean the 16 year old escort who could barely remember her own name when I was doing prep with her, but could describe your perp in perfect detail?” You rolled your eyes at him and ignored his growl. “Make sure to tell Ludlow if he’s gonna threaten a minor with trafficking charges to get her to testify, she’d better have a spine so she doesn’t break down the first time someone challenges her.”

“Goddamn it.” He ran his hand over his face at that, he knew leaving Ludlow alone with a witness would come back to bite him in the ass one day. “The evidence…”

“All fucking circumstantial, bring me something else and I’ll nail the guy to the wall, but Judge Martin would have thrown this out with prejudice and then we would have been shit outta luck.” You pulled out your phone  and broke eye contact with him, frowning at something on your screen. “I have a depo to get to, call me when you and Ludlow unfuck this.”

Paul just stared after you when you strutted off, the sway of your hips only serving to frustrate him more. Every time, every fucking time you pulled one of their cases he ended up having to do ten times the work because you were such a frigid bitch.

Ludlow flipped the fuck out when Diskant filled him in, ranting about uptight cunts who had zero fucking idea what it took to bring these scumbags in. His bad mood ended up rubbing off on the rest of the unit, since almost every one of the detectives had to put up with your bullshit at some point.

The ranting at the station led to the squad filtering to the Black Bell once their shift was over, determined to stew in their rage over how much they really hated you. Paul had heard some vitriol in his career, but something about you and your tight little outfits and icy demeanor just set those detectives off.

“Oh, fuck no.” Griffin growled into his beer when a new group walked into the bar. “Goddamn lawyers.”

“There’s that fucking cunt. Just look at that slut.” Ludlow looked ready to spit nails when he saw you, gripping his glass so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“Someone needs to fuck the bitch out of her.” Johnson was watching you like a hawk, sipping his bourbon slowly as his eyes traveled over your body. “Would’ve thought Barber would be up to it, but guess that icebox between her legs really will suck the soul out of you.”

“You’re all drunk.” Paul shrugged uncomfortably when he watched Andy wind his arm around your waist while the two of you chatted with Mike and Scott. He didn’t  know how those men could possibly put up with working with you, and what you could possibly offer to make a good guy like Barber actually move in with you.

Paul growled when the sound of your laugh carried over the noise of the bar, the melodious lilt of your joy making his eye twitch, especially since it was in such stark contrast to what he was used to hearing from that bitch mouth of yours. You did it again and he slammed his drink down on the table and rose to his feet, mumbling about taking a leak under his breath while the rest of the team continued speculating about how cold you must be in bed.

He took a second when he was done emptying his bladder to try to reset, splashing his face with some cold water before staring at himself in the mirror. The only thing that broke him out of his thoughts was the light knock on the door, his slightly improved mood immediately souring when you were standing there waiting for him.

“Well, hey there Diskant.” You gave him a wicked smirk when he snarled at you, pushing past him and bending over the sink to check your makeup. “You heading back to the bitchfest? What’s tonight’s topic, how I’m out to fuck over you good old boys? Or how someone just needs to give me that good dick to straighten me out?”

“God, you’re such a fucking mouthy bitch.” He ran his hand over his face in frustration as he watched you reapply your lipstick. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I dunno, probably dealing with a bunch of macho assholes who make no secret their nickname for me is ‘cunt, esquire’.” You snorted softly and chucked your lipstick back into your bag. “Might be able to tolerate it a little better if you were actually good at your jobs.”

“Fuck you, if you knew anything about the shit we have to deal with…”

“I have a cop father, so I think I fucking get it.” You leaned on the sink and turned to face him. 

“Oh, that’s what it is, huh?” He sneered when he stepped closer to you, not sparing a thought for the door swinging closed behind him. “Daddy was a cop who didn’t give princess enough attention, so now you’ve got a stick up your ass for the boys in blue, huh?”

“I’m not your fucking princess.” You squared up with him when he pinned you against the sink. 

“I know, ‘cause you’re a cunt.” He rested his hands on either side of your hips on the edge of the sink, leaning into you and grinning when you growled at him. “Frigid, uptight little bitch.”

He managed to catch your hand when you brought it up to slap him, gripping your wrist and pulling you even closer until your breath was mingling as you panted into each other’s mouths. You stilled for a beat and glared at each other, the air between you crackling with tension until his gaze dropped to your lips.

That was the only warning you had before he was smashing his lips to yours with a deep moan, ripping your blouse open and shoving your skirt up around your hips as he growled into your mouth. You dropped your hands between you to work on his belt as he ripped your nylons open and thrust his fingers inside you, groaning when he found you warm and wet and ready for him.

He hissed when you freed his cock and let it slap against your pussy, spearing into you in one quick thrust and immediately starting to fuck you in vicious strokes. You wrapped your legs around his hips and rolled your body to meet him, wrenching his collar open and shoving your hands under his collar so you could dig your nails into his shoulders while you bit at his lips.

“Fuck, harder.” You shoved one hand under the back of his slacks to press him deeper into you, clenching around him and licking into his mouth before baring your teeth at him in a snarl.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” He clapped his palm over your mouth and sneered at you, smearing your lipstick over your face as he bent to suck and bite at your nipples through the soft lace of your bra while his hips slammed into yours. “Sick of your fucking voice.”

You whined when he hit you deep, arching into his face and scraping your nails over his scalp as you bit at his fingers where they were resting over your mouth. He groaned when he felt you starting to clench around him with each push of his hips, sinking his teeth into your tit to try to muffle his grunts as he started rocking into you even harder.

The sink was rattling dangerously as you rested all your weight against it, Paul slamming a hand into the wall beside the mirror in an attempt to keep himself steady and using the other to grip your thigh and pull you down to meet each violent cant of his hips. Your body started shaking around him as he brought you closer, his face moving back to yours and smothering your lips with his to cover the thin whine that was coming from your throat.

“Shit, ah… fuck.” Your body jolted when he ground against your clit, your pussy clenching around him in waves and trying to draw him deeper as you started to fall apart. 

He groaned when your nails dug into his neck and hip, dragging across his skin and raising red welts as he swallowed your soft cry when your cunt fluttered around him and coated him in your thick cream. The sight of it covering his cock as he thrust in and out of you had him following right behind you, slamming you into the mirror and snarling before he was shooting his cum into you in thick white ropes.

You were panting heavily once you were both finished, Paul tucking his face into your neck and breathing deeply to try to regulate while you were still clenching and spasming around his softening cock. Then you were shoving him off you with a sniff, your hands flying over your body as you tried to assess how much damage had been done while avoiding making eye contact with him.

There was no way to describe how you looked aside from well fucked, your hair mussed and makeup smeared all over your face with your nylons completely ruined and your shirt missing a couple of buttons. Not that he looked much better, his lips swollen and covered in your lipstick with scratches along his neck and surely under his sex rumpled button up, too.

“Fuck, Andy.” You winced when you looked at the door to the bar, hopping off the sink and starting to try to straighten yourself out. “Get the fuck out.”

“Wait…”

“Out.” Your hands were shaking when you shoved him towards the door, barely giving him a chance to tuck himself back into his pants before he was standing in the hallway and trying to talk to you. “This didn’t fucking happen.”

He just gaped at you when you slammed the door in his face, his face twisting in a snarl as he started to button himself back up.

“Fucking cunt.” He stormed towards the back door and into the alley, rubbing his hand over the scratches you’d left on his neck and wondering how the fuck he was gonna explain the obvious sex scars to his fiancee. 

[a-jynx]

Dream; - usually really aware when you guys plan date nights! Even with his busy schedule, he’s on top of remembering important nights - he doesn’t want you to feel neglected or forgotten :’) - however he can get forgetful when he’s playing with Sap and George, or streaming, but when he does oh, he feels devastated and will definitely become clingy

[Short imagine]

12:30 PM - he’d forgotten. You sighed, closing your phone and slouching into the couch, listening to your boyfriend’s laughs echo throughout your shared home; Sapnap’s screams filtering through as well.

Frowning, you turned on the living room TV and turned on Netflix, deciding that a movie would take away from the small sting in your gut. You knew he hadn’t meant to get sucked up into his work, and this one time of a few that he’d forgotten, but that doesn’t stop the sadness twisting in your gut. Turning on the Twilight series, and obviously horrible but entertaining favorite [team Jacob anyone?] before grabbing your warmed-up Panda Express and engrossing yourself into the world of vampires and werewolves.

2:45 AM

Dream groaned as his screen flashed a dull red, congratulating George and Sap about their win from their Minecraft Manhunt; 2 hunters. Glancing at the time, he rubbed at his face and clicked out of everything, ending his video. Stretching he leaned back and glanced towards the bed, expecting you to already be cuddled up and passed out, but the comfy queen was empty…

Furrowing his brows, he scooted his chair back and left his room, moving downstairs as Sap came out of his room, still grinning.

“Hey man, nice hunt, though I’m surprised you made it go for so long,” Sap groaned as he joined Dream on the stairwell making the dirty blonde frown.

“What’re you talking about? Manhunts always go for a couple of hours?” Dream snorted as Sap frowned, only to sigh and pat his friend on the shoulder.

“Dude… You had date night tonight..?”

Dream’s eyes widened as he rushed further downstairs, turning into the living room and frowning at the sight. You curled up into the corner, an empty container on the coffee table and the credits rolling of The Twilight Saga; new moon. Squatting down next to you, he gently cradled your cheek as you hummed in sleep, cracking open your eyes as you broke into a smile, your eyes settling on your frowning boyfriend.

“Hiya handsome,”

“Hi, baby… Fuck, I’m so sorry I forgot,” Dream leaned into you, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, nose, chin, lips - anywhere his lips could reach as you chuckled, raising your hand and threading it through his hair. “I just got so lost in the video, but that’s no excuse I promise I’ll make it up to you-”

“Dream, babe it’s okay, this is like… The first time you’ve forgotten, just don’t make it a full-time thing, yeah?” You laughed as Dream dove into you, circling your waist with his arms and picking you up, causing you to yell out.

“Clay!”

“We’re going to bed, and I’m not letting you go until I see fit,” Dream stated, carrying you upstairs as you glanced to Sapnap, waving to him before you and your still disappointed boyfriend disappeared into his room.

Sapnap - he’s definitely more forgetful than Dream, but he tries okay? - a lot more clingy when he realizes what he did, definitely becomes more of a hopeless romantic

[Short imagine]

“Shouldn’t you be gone by now?” You turned away from the fridge, seeing Dream entering from the living room as you shrugged, closing it with a sigh.

“Yeah, we should’ve left half an hour ago but he joined Karl’s stream… Again.” You mumbled the last bit as Dream frowned, leaning against the cabinets as you messed with the strings of your boyfriends’ basketball shorts.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?”

“Honestly? Probably not, I mean we’ve already had a talk about if he forgets-” you paused when a sudden crash came from upstairs, causing you and Dream to turn towards the stairs as Sap came barreling down. You blinked as he stood in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into the crook of your neck, making you giggle.

“Hi, bubs,”

“I’msorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimhorribleicantbelieveiforgotimsosososorry-” Sap mumbled into your skin, as you reached up, ruffling his hair as he pressed kisses along your neck, going along your shoulder before trailing back up and pressing his lips against your chin before settling back between your shoulder and throat.

Dream snickered from next to you guys as he dug into the fridge, digging out some pizza from lunch as Sap looked up and glared at his friend. “So, what reminded you?” The dirty blonde hummed, getting ready for his dinner as your brunette boyfriend scoffed.

“I obviously reminded myself! I’m not that-” he paused as a chime came from his shorts’ pocket causing him to cringe. Furrowing your brows, you reached in and tugged out his phone, breaking into a smile as you realized it was an alarm.

‘ Date Night Idiot!’ had been going off for an hour, you assuming Sap had snoozed it, not realizing why his alarm was going off.

“Dumb.. Okay! I had to set a few reminders,” Sap mumbled, pressing more kisses to your warmed skin, trying to hide away from his embarrassment. You closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket before grabbing his hand and tugging him upstairs with you, his head hung low as you went into his room, besides a small light from his screen. You jumped onto his bed, opening your arms as Sap shot you a small grin and dove into you, cuddling into your chest and pressing more kisses to your free skin, his hand sneaking up your shirt just resting against your skin, rubbing his thumb across your navel while smiling into your kiss.

“I know I’m extremely forgetful when it comes to romantic stuff, but please always know that I love you even if I have a shitty way of showing it,” he mumbled against your lips, moving his hand from your stomach to your face, holding your cheek as you stared at each other. Sure, you could be upset at him, you could ignore him, maybe argue… But why miss out on warm cuddles and make-up kisses?

Karl - he’s the one who usually makes the dates up! He always tries to make sure his streams and recording don’t overlap the days you agreed on - but who says you always remember?

[Short imagine]

It was the long-awaited shock & facecam stream! You had promised to follow in your friend’s - George, Sap, and Dream’s - steps in a shock stream and even threw in a facecam if your followers had gotten one of your posts to hit one million likes, and your fans did not disappoint! Your tweet promising this stream had hit two million likes, 10,506 retweets, and continuous replies. So, here you were, setting up for your stream when Karl walked in…

“Sweetness..? What’re you, uh, what’re you doing..?” He nervously giggled as he stood beside you, his hands nervously tugging on your hoodie as you turned towards him, frowning.

“I’m getting ready for the shock stream? Remember? I planned this a couple months ago and we agreed on today?” You blinked at your boyfriend. You both had talked about this stream since you arranged the day - why is it suddenly a problem?

“Oh, well, remember we agreed that today - tonight - was going to be date night? We were gonna watch some of the new season of Survivor?” Karl hummed as you blinked, turning fully towards him with your eyes wide as you glanced towards your starting soon screen. You could feel your heart plummet into your stomach - you had done the one thing you and Karl agreed to never do, yet here you were..

“Baby, oh my god, I’m- holy shit, I’m so sorry,” you murmured, rubbing your face as Karl shot you a small grin, scooting closer and musing your hair as you leaned into his touch, cradling your own face with dread coursing through you.

“Bubs, it’s okay, I know you’ve been planning this, and I should’ve thought ahead-”

“No!” You burst, gripping his wrist and pressing light kisses to it before groaning against his skin. “No, it’s not okay, we always try and plan for us to have date nights between our busy schedules and it’s such an asshole thing for me to not double-check that it was-” Karl leaned down, quieting you with pressing his lips to yours. You melted into it as he turned your chair to face him more, causing him to grip your hands tightly in his before pulling away.

“It’s okay because I want you to go through with this stream! You’ve been excited about it and I know the guys are wanting to join, besides-” he paused, pressing butterfly-like kisses to your hands as you grinned at your boyfriend.

“Date night can be any night for us,”

“So, what I’m hearing is you love me more than Survivor?” You giggled as Karl furrowed his brows and scoffed, dropping your hands dramatically before pulling his gaming chair next to yours as you began to set up your facecams’ final touches.

“I love you, like a lot, but know your boundaries, Bubs,” Karl scoffed as you rolled your eyes, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and clicking through your screens before popping up on your stream with a ‘Hey guys!’

~~~

helloooo~ long time no writing and im so sorry about that - life has gotten a little crazy and I sort of lost motivation to write a lot again. i hope these headcanons and my future idea for some can hold you over until I have some sort of - lack of better word - motivation :'D

until tomorrow, i hope you have a beautiful day ~ J

[kitkatopinions]

I've got a riddle for that Anon hater who accused you of misogyny:

Imagine a CisHet Man. Imagine this CisHet Man has a long and well-documented history of making sexist, racist, antisemitic, biphobic, and even occasionally pedophilic jokes, on panels, tweets, cameos, podcasts, and interviews. Imagine this bigoted CisHet Man works for a Capitalist Corporation that named themselves after a homophobic slur, a company that ALSO has a long and well-documented history of producing content riddled with sexist, racist, antisemitic, biphobic and even occasionally pedophilic jokes, and also happens to frequently land itself in the news as the working place of people who do things like *use their positions to groom and take advantage of fans, some of them underage* or maybe *try to murder their wives after abusing them for years.* Imagine that this Capitalist Corporation is so infamously toxic and produces work so infamously bad that people have said it's considered a strike against them to include working there on their resumes. Imagine that the CisHet Man has been with this company for over a decade now, but instead of being 'trapped' there, he's among the many figures that have been named as part of the problem. Imagine that the CisHet Man gets his paycheck from the Capitalist Corporation, and the Capitalist Corporation gets their profit from the work done by the CisHet Man. Now imagine that this CisHet Man, working for this Capitalist Corporation, joins with other people who have similar - if less loud - pasts, and that together they produce a "Girl Power!" series that is riddled with just as much sexism, racism, antisemitism, biphobia, and even occasionally pedophilic content that you'd expect from the creators.

Now imagine a woman. Not working for anybody, not expecting to gain anything, not in this for profit, not doing anything that could possibly suggest any ulterior motive; just some random everyday average woman. And imagine that this woman has a tumblr that has been openly advocating for women's rights (and the rights of other groups as well) since long before she started talking about the show written by CisHet Man and Pals and produced by the Capitalist Corporation.

Now that we've got the pieces in place, here's the riddle:

Who is the most misogynistic? The CisHet Man and Pals who write the show produced by the Capitalist Corporation, the feminist woman who criticizes it without anything to gain from her words, or the random asshole who attacks her to defend the man?

For real! I think part of the problem comes with a combo of people who fail to recognize the humanity of the people they meet on the internet and are out of touch with reality enough to mistake fictional worlds, events, and characters for anything other than fabrication invented by flawed human people.

Ruby feels more real to them than I do, I think. They look at a screen with Ruby and fail to recognize the majority men controlling her actions and words and movements, and therefore say ‘you’re criticizing a woman doing her best’ instead of recognizing that I’m criticizing the writers who control her every word, action, and movement. And then they look at me and are like “um why would I not attack the Max Goof icon?”

The fact that they think they have the moral high ground is hilarious to me. Me criticizing a group of majority men who are trying to earn money and fame off of a product, while I’m using tags specifically so that anyone who doesn’t like criticism and doesn’t want to see it can filter it, is somehow more misogynistic to them then sending direct attacks to a woman’s blog in a way that they know she sees. And the thing they’re attacking me for is saying “characters and situations should be nuanced!” Do you know what I find misogynistic? When men are very capable of writing nuanced stories with hard questions and hard choices, but can’t manage to or don’t want to make their woman characters nuanced too and therefore backtrack or cheat in order to give them wins without writing them to do much for the majority of a season and having men solve the majority of her problems. Ruby isn’t real and her team isn’t real and Ironwood isn’t real. The events that we see happen in RWBY aren’t predestined fate or some divine tale that the writers were enlightened to and had to dutifully recount as it ‘actually happened.’ They’re fake, the story is whatever MKEK wanted, they contrived a situation where Ruby sat there in a mansion drinking tea while people died and Jaune and Oscar were doing things in a whale. They contrived a situation where Ruby launched Amity while weirdly assuming that’d somehow save Atlas in less than a day and then fell to pieces and was plagued with indecisiveness for episodes when it didn’t work. They contrived a situation where Jaune and Oscar’s team took on Ironwood while Ruby’s plan with Ambrosius literally wouldn’t have worked according to the writers if Ambrosius hadn’t liked her and let her cheat his apparently not necessary rules. And it wasn’t me that made Ruby do things that weren’t one hundred percent perfect (because rarely anything is,) and then just pretended it was perfect, made doubting anything she does into a Bad Action boarding on betrayal, and tried to keep her from natural growth and consequences by whatever means necessary. It wasn’t me who did those things, I’m just pointing them out.

It’s Early Women’s Equality 101 to say ‘critically examine how women are portrayed in media and realize that a lot of man written ‘girl power’ is steeped in the unchecked or even internalized misogyny of the writer.’ People often try to get woke points by making ‘powerful women’ without bothering to ever examine or deconstruct their own misogyny. So saying ‘um the girl fights and also wins, so what’s the problem’ is a very juvenile and frustrating way that people are looking at RWBY.

[katyatalks]

Mob Psycho 100: The Stage Play 3 - Final performance content spoilers

Here are all the notes I compiled after getting the chance to see the final performance for ‘Mob Psycho 100: The Stage Play - A Clash with Claw’s Seventh Division!’ live. Note this is essentially a write-up of the play from beginning to end - this will also likely be the version of the play that is used for the DVD release in December. I will also edit this when the recording becomes available for viewing and I can gain some clarity on sections I missed...

PRE-SHOW

- Reigen and Mob do a pre-show announcement relating to covid prevention measures (referred to not by name as Covid but an evil spirit) plus standard theatre etiquette rules (don’t use your phone, put it on silent, etc.)

SHOW

- Begins where stage 2 left off as a ‘Previously…’ segment for the audience. We once again witness Koyama knocking Mob out with the spray and kidnapping Ritsu.

- In the Teru/Dimple/Mob discussion part of the stage 2 recap, Teru takes the bird’s nest off his head and throws it off stage - we hear the birds within fly away.

- ((We immediately see how the reduced audience affects the play - a funny physical gag where Teru and Dimple bash heads happens but this receives no response from the audience))

- We reach the end of stage 2 recap with Mob stating he’ll destroy Claw as he does at the end of stage 2. The screen goes black and we hear the echo of a voice saying ‘Give [it] back… give [it] back, [It’s] mine, give [it] back…’ - this is implied to be Mob talking about Ritsu but the lights turn on to reveal S&S and turns out it’s Shou talking to Reigen about Touichirou’s card

- Reigen gives the card back to Shou, calls him a ‘baggy-clothed asshole’ and tells him to leave since Reigen is busy. Reigen puts his feet up on his desk and goes on his phone, leading to;

S: “What are you doing?”

R: “Reading the news.”

S: “You’re not busy, you’re bored!”

- Shou mentions that he’s also got 10k yen missing from his wallet and accuses Reigen of stealing it - Reigen insists he didn’t but starts doubting himself

- When Shou leaves, Reigen salt splashes in his direction (An English translation is now given under each of Reigen’s special moves ala Olympic parody)

-Reigen calls Mob, leading back to the Mob/Dimple/Teru scene - Terada and his cronies enter and Mob tells Reigen he can’t talk right now, hang up which leads to…

***

OPENING

- Yoru no Honki Dance - Call Out (as the previous two plays)

- Action takes place on the upper and lower stage - Ritsu and the lab kids on the lower stage with Ritsu in anguish with Mob, Teru, Dimple on the top stage

- Action shot with the show’s “Yeah!” line focuses on Reigen and Mob on the top level

***

- Teru tortures Terada with a taser rather than water - Terada is also wearing a ballgag with multiple kazoos inside it leading to a great sound whenever he screams

- Mob and Dimple are terrified of Teru’s taser torture whenever he does it

- Matsuo’s performance is sensual and slimy - great stage presence

- Ishiguro’s voice is distorted using a pitch filter resulting in something creepy rather than the female voice used in the anime

- Ritsu and the lab kids are seen in the jail cell - great banter with them and their Claw guard (Guard to Rei: “I won’t hit you because you’re a girl!” Kids: “A gentleman!”). Guard tells them they won’t get any food and they start rioting

- Mutou is VERY creepy and accompanied by terrifying music - he skulks around the stage with his ridiculous silicone chin

- When Mutou “kills” Kaito off screen we get a ridiculous extended segment featuring Daichi reacting to what is initially cries of his brother’s pain that turn into pleasure as if he is getting a massage - then turns back into pain

- Kaito is wheeled back on in a luggage/weight carrier with 4 knives in his chest

- Teru vs Terada is visually very fun - movement choreography is great, lots of Teru’s dance techniques that got cut from the anime

- Back in the jail scene Ritsu states he doesn’t remember the kids names so they re-introduce themselves to the audience

- Asahi and Hoshino heating up the spoon/bending spoon/on repeat is very well performed

- Ritsu tries to high-five with with one of the other kids when they escape the jail but finds he has no-one to do it with :(

- Back to Dimple/Mob/Teru - when Dimple-chan(puppet) says “Oh who’s that good looking guy? A model?”, Nadagi pulls a whole bunch of model poses

- When Teru tries to knock the security guard out he screams for AGES leading to one of the funniest moments in the play - he finally is knocked out but when Dimple tries to possess him he takes ages to be possessed - Taa (Teru) breaks character completely and doubles over laughing and Itou (Mob) refuses to face the audience making it clear he is losing it as well

- Muraki is creepy looking but his cloak is see-through and sparkly - his actor plays him as quite a timid guy

- Great visual gag with Mob throwing Koyama around and then sending him through the stage wall

- Ishiguro has a moment where he talks to the audience/the new recruits where he shows off the Claw face mask available as part of the merch

- Great fight choreography between SG!Dimple and Gen (played by Baba) - ends with SG!Dimple pulling his trousers down

- Teru tasing people left and right in this play…

- Great stage effects in Teru vs Miyagawa - Teru tases Miyagawa as well

- Tsuchiya calming down Mukai is lovely - followed by Mukai finding a puppet that she believes hasn’t been destroyed by Mob and getting excited - but the head rolls off so she breaks down crying again

- ((My stream cut here so I didn’t see the start of the Ritsu vs Shou interaction and whether or not he recognised Shou from their interaction in stage 2))

- We see a little Shou vs Ritsu - Ritsu flings an array of spoons at Shou - Shou lands a punch that sends Ritsu off stage

- Character design for Takeuchi has been corrected slightly from the anime

- Matsuo vs SG!Dimple stage effects are great. They’re both very flashy actors which creates fantastic visual comedy

- Matsuo takes off his jacket like he’s at a strip club - it’s all very flamboyant and fun

- ((Stream cut again so I didn’t actually see the joke, but some kind of adlib happens with Reigen in the taxi scene that causes Baba to break character))

- When Mob uses his powers to blow Takeuchi away someone comes on stage with a leafblower to blow his hair away

- Screen goes black and we cut back to Shou delivering the final blow on Ritsu. Shou says someone interesting is coming and leaves stage for Mob’s entrance

- Mob finds Ritsu passed out and holds him, finds he’s breathing but won’t forgive who did this to him

- Mutou enters and stalks around the back and creates the image of Ritsu dead on the floor with a knife in his chest for Mob which causes his freak out

- “What a great pair of brothers” - Shou leaning over Mob and Ritsu’s passed out bodies

- Shou floats Mob and Ritsu into the room with Sakurai/Teru/Ishiguro

- Small cut away to Reigen - he sees 500 yen on the ground and immediately runs to go pick it up

- Mob and Ritsu’s hug is very emotional - Ritsu is more panicked asking Mob if he’s okay and Mob is more emotional responding than the anime

- Mob pats Ritsu’s head to calm him down

- Visual gag where Shou steps on Ishiguro’s shoe - Ishiguro freaks out trying to clean it and Muraki offers emotional support

- Guy walks into the room with Sakurai/Muraki/Ishiguro/Matsuo/Shou and informs them “The boss is coming”, which piques Shou’s interest and he comes along to meet “the boss”

- Play then gives us a “5 minutes earlier” scene. Baba’s performance in the Claw break-in is more on the eccentric/aggressive side than the calmer calculating tone Sakurai had - changes the atmosphere for the scene

- The whole scene with Reigen saving the lab kids is redone to be so eccentric with everyone chanting BOSS! BOSS! BOSS! at the end for Reigen

- When Reigen starts making a comment about Teru’s wig and cuts himself off to not offend him, he goes to Mob like “wtf” and Mob whispers in his ear what happened

- Shou included in the scene when Ishiguro etc. face off against Reigen

- ((ARGH my stream cut out again, when it came back Shou had moved over to Reigen’s side - probably some good dialogue there between them that I missed))

- Shou says to Reigen ‘Give me back my 10,000 yen’ - Shou decides to stand back to watch the show

- When Ishiguro attacks, Mob protects Shou as well as everyone else

- We have Shou/Teru/Mob/Ritsu/Reigen all on one side vs the Claw guys on the other (Ishiguro/Sakurai/Muraki/Matsuo)

- When Reigen does his Anti-Esper Drop Kick, they choose to translate this in English as “Dropkick to the espers”

- Shou: ‘You’re really taking [Muraki] on? lol’ Reigen: ‘Shut UP you brat’

- When Sakurai attacks Reigen (first time), Ritsu helps him up

- Lots of good banter between Shou and Reigen (”Stop calling me ‘old guy!’”)

- Shou sits to the side and enjoys the show while Sakurai/Muraki/Ishiguro/Matuso vs Reigen/Mob/Ritsu/Teru happens, makes some comments (ie. “Damn you’re in a pinch, whatcha gonna do now?”)

- When Reigen is getting sucked up by the anti gravity bubble, Shou helps Teru/Mob/Ritsu out with saving him

- Sakurai cutting off Teru’s wig is made into such a Dramatic moment

- Shou joins the fight against Ishiguro - Ishiguro manages to knock him out of the field and Reigen expresses concern (‘Oh crap! Kid are you okay!’)

- Lots of stage theatrics - now that Shou is no longer in play scene plays out as it does in the anime

- Lots of Reigen protecting Mob and leading him away from danger until the climactic moment where Mob decides to fight

- Mob’s scream of ‘Shishou!!!’ is filled with emotion - Reigen collapses quickly and without theatrics, facing the audience

- He doesn’t get a cut in his jacket, nor does he remove it

- When Reigen destroys Matsuo’s pet - ‘Oh Jesus I’m sorry I didn’t mean to destroy your toy’

- More protective Reigen - puts his arm out to protect Teru and Ritsu & get them behind him

- Reigen’s “Purifying Salt Punch” -> English given as Prime Salt Punch

- ‘It’s rude to wear a mask when talking to people!’ - here his mask doesn’t come off - unsure if intentional

- ((The bento story is REALLY well performed comedically but doesn’t land with attending audience))

- Sakurai shoots Reigen and Reigen catches the bullet

- Reigen uses the spray to spray his armpits

- Reigen at Muraki’s forehead “what is this? A doorbell? Ding dong ding dong”

- Lab kids start making fun of Muraki as well (Rei: What is that, cosplay?)

- Rei has a crush on Reigen in the same vein as her crush on Ritsu - Calls him cool and stuff and tries to reach for him

- Mob: ‘Having powers doesn’t make you popular’ Rei: ‘Lame.’ Reigen: ‘Well there you have it.’

- Shou comes back in centre stage and knocks Ishiguro out - goes to Reigen and says it’s time to repay the debt he owes Reigen - knocks Ishiguro out fully as per anime/manga

- As Shou leaves he pats Ritsu on the shoulder

- When Reigen says ‘is this an evil spirit?’ He hold his nose as if Dimple stinks, then grabs his head and shakes him around. Gets some salt from his pocket and throws it at Dimple

- Rei goes up to Sakurai and asks to date him

- Shou goes on the phone on stage top level and calls Touichirou as per manga/anime lines

FINAL SCENE

- Shou returns to S&S - as it turns out Reigen had the 10k stuck in his pocket the whole time and returns it to Shou

- Mob and Ritsu (with a bag) enter S&S while Shou is still there but leaving - Mob thanks Shou for helping them and asks Ritsu to do the same - Ritsu complies

- Shou looks back at Reigen, then toward Ritsu and Mob and tells them all they’ll meet again

- Mob and Ritsu share a heartfelt moment - “Ritsu, you’re amazing” - “No you’re the amazing one Nii-san”

- Ritsu gets out Takoyaki for Reigen/Mob/Ritsu to enjoy and Dimple joins them

ENDING SONG - ‘mob.’

https://katyatalks.tumblr.com/post/659597484715278336/mob-ed-for-mp100-stage-3-a-clash-with-claws

- Itou’s voice is STUNNING

CAST COMMENTS

- Kawaharada Takuya (Teru) addresses the fact that he’s the person who laughed the most out of everyone

- Nadagi says he wants to do a stage 4 and that’s the general vibe with everyone  and it’ll be nice if the anime gets a S3 too

- Lots of talk about stage 4 and it only being possible if everyone comes together

- Itou: ‘Us being able to do this again out of the blue so suddenly is thanks to all of you’

ENCORE

- Itou and Baba

- Lots of crying from Itou relating to covid and how it has cut the audience - he is grateful but he’s still upset about it - Baba gives him a huge hug

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Accidental Feminist Icon

Between my own headcanon Barba becomes a very niche viral celebrity for being a mix of feminist icon giving one liners on the news and handsome/well dressed and the DJ Khaled post, this happened. 

“Counsellor, are you listening?” Olivia asked as Rafael Barba looked at his phone again. It had been months now since he started trying Manhattan SVU’s cases, and she hadn’t seen him this distracted before. 

“I just- why do I have rapid fire Twitter notifications? Over one hundred and fifty?”

“You have Twitter?” He rolled his eyes, not proud of the admission. But he liked to follow politics and music and satire. His colleagues would have discourse on legal proceedings and theory. But when he opened his notifications, the sea of professional headshots making up the icons in his notifications window were replaced by cartoon avatars and selfies. Handles like @Bradley_GreedADA were replaced with @feministkilljxy. 

What was happening?

Why were there GIFs of him now?

“Rafael?” He was snapped back to attention by Olivia’s hand passing over his phone screen, and he shook his head, holding the screen out to her. “What am I looking at?”

“Why have a couple hundred- are these all teenagers?”

“Are they following you? Or tagging you?”

“Both?” He scrolled through the mentions.

“Both.” A questioning look.

“Have I gone viral?” he asked herr, eyes wide and his tone disgusted. Twitter was where he posted law books, nice dinners out, homemade dinners in, and the nicer scotch he drank. Sometimes even pictures of himself; some of his friends enjoyed fashion as well, and their twitters all had a heavy thread of their suspenders and ties. Suddenly, he was having photos he’d posted to flaunt his ability to mix patterns retweeted in appreciation of something more than the color scheme.

“I think you have. What have you said now?”

“The girl whose tweet I keep getting tagged in mentioned Jocelyn Paley and the Adam Caine case.”

“That was seven months ago.”

“I’m very aware. I have to get to the office. I’ll get you that warrant.”

He continued to scroll as he walked, alarmed by the number of followers he was gaining and going to open a direct message from a friend to see a wall of messages from names he didn’t know. Once he was able to find Bradley’s message, he saw it was series of tweets with videos and GIFs of him on the courthouse steps. They were all from the same case, he assumed the Adam Caine case. He clicked the video of he and Rita Calhoun.

All I can say, today's Grand Jury indictment is the first step towards achieving justice for Jocelyn Paley. 

The DA's office is desperately trying to distract from their recent scandal with a high-profile case. 

Don't give me that--whether you're a john in the South Bronx or a $3-million-a-year talk show host, no means no. 

 He could remember the exchange now, and it had apparently been retweeted thousands of times. Cameras always made him determined to distract, determined to drive home a point. And now, he was seeing some group of teenagers had clung on to his words, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about becoming recognized enough by that demographic to warrant this rapidly increasing follower count. 

“Carmen, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Mr. Barba. Need coffee?”

“No,” he said plainly, shaking his head and showing her his feed. “Is this normal?”

“They found you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Haven’t you seen the posts?”

“I don’t branch out on Twitter often.”

“I see it mostly, like, on Instagram with captions and people post clips of you on vine.”

“What’s vine?”

“A six second video app. Teenagers and young women post you. Vine is normally comedy. But people are obsessed with you. Niche, but sizable number. I think it’s mostly New York girls who see you on the news. But that means the vines went viral a couple months ago.”

“So now they’re all following me on Twitter?”

“You’re viral for being attractive, dressing well, and prosecuting rapists. Embrace it.”

“I can’t post my clothes anymore.”

“Just continue like usual. Don’t respond to DMs.”

He spent a few weeks terrified of this new following, but after three days, things calmed down. The number of followers he gained was weird and confusing to him, and he decided to listen to Carmen ultimately, keeping the profile the same and pretending nothing had happened. She did stop him one day, showing him that there had been people making fake accounts, yet another thing that was insane to him. She primarily told him because these accounts were attempting to take advantage of the fact young girls were the ones following him. He awkwardly slid the handles to Olivia, and Carmen filled out an application for Twitter verification that left him mortified. Even worse, it was approved. 

He was swept away in a case soon enough. Lindsay was assaulted by a whole fraternity at Hudson. They uncovered a previous victim in a hospital, a fraternity known for being a rape factory, and a dean helping create a culture that buried these attacks. It was becoming higher profile than he expected, and it wasn’t easy to try. He’d had to shut off his notifications on his phone during these cases. When Lindsay committed suicide, he accompanied Rollins when she went to arrest the dean. What he didn’t expect was for two of the women they saw to approach him, asking if they were here about Lindsay and thanking them when he said he couldn’t mention it. Then they asked for a selfie. Rafael was mortified but obliged. 

“We recognize you from Twitter.”

Well, now he knew he needn’t accompany the squad out anymore.

When he got tweets from the kind of scum that supported the fraternity, it took a concerted effort not to respond. That could jeopardized the case. He’d already had to tell the two girls they couldn’t post about him being there. He tweeted a disclaimer for if people saw him out, feeling like an asshole. Twitter was now becoming a liability, but he could balance it and refused to give up the feed. Slowly, the GIFs and stills of him on the news were collected, and he only got embarrassed again when mami’s students had discovered him and realized he was the guy in their principal’s pictures. Now Mami had a Twitter, and she followed people who praised him joyfully, though he’d managed to convince her not to interact in private messages or respond to people insulting him. 

The Jenna Miller case caused another leap in his follower count, and he had developed a little sense of pride instead of embarrassment when his followers jumped from people who mattered in New York to people who mattered elsewhere. A congresswoman from Ohio. Artists. Activists. He’d texted Olivia when Lady Gaga followed him. Plus that woman from True Blood. God, she was beautiful. Plus the hot boybander that had probably made him realize he was bisexual. It was weird, and he was unwilling to publicly acknowledge any of it. Unless they were on twitter, he certainly didn’t tell anyone he knew other than Olivia. Soon enough, someone had made a t-shirt on Etsy of the moment he’d turned on his heel. The media had called after Jenna, the olympian, and he’d told them no questions. Then the had the gall to bring up her sex work. He’d stopped on the steps, turning on his heel and announcing “Except for that one. Paid or not paid, no means no. Consent can be revoked at any time.” And now, Etsy users were profiting on it. This group was niche, but it ran deep. Luckily, he noticed the shop only had a few dozen sales.

Everything was fine until Rafael Barba lost his ability to maintain his composure. Up until now, he’d monitored his name, mentions, and a few hashtags people used with him. It was usually just the GIFs and stills and soundbites. He participated in some banter after the first couple of years, boundaries firm enough he felt he could. But he still didn’t bicker. Carmen said he got a following for being a good guy, and he thought it was gross openly condemning rape seemed to be all it took to be a good guy. But then through his lurking, Rafael Barba saw a tweet about DJ Khaled. He’d had to google who the hell that was, unsure who all of Twitter was piling onto, but he found the tweet objectionable enough to respond.

“Mr. Barba,” Carmen said, eyes sparkling with amusement as she came in to see her boss still scrolling through his phone. “You really decided this is the time to get involved on Twitter? You only ever respond to what people say to your stuff or your friends.”

He should’ve known she’d be on top of it. He’d given her access when notifications went through the roof the second time, and Carmen helped filter through DMs he didn’t want to see. But now, that meant her phone was vibrating like his in response to his first tweet in response to a stranger or someone who wasn’t in a thread under his own post.

“What? I’m supposed to endorse consent but not enjoyment?”

“You’re going to end up in a Buzzfeed article, sir.”

“If this is my legacy, so be it.”

“Your legacy? Taking it seriously now?”

“This is serious.”

Carmen’s phone buzzed in her hand, and she knew he’d sent another tweet. Her own account got notifications so she could monitor him. She sighed heavily, unlocking the phone and looking at it. 

“Mr. Barba, does your mom know you’re bi?”

“No, why?”

“She follows you, idiot.”

“Shit. Well, I suppose it’s time.”

“If you tweet Smash Mouth, I’m quitting. These kids are already thirst tweeting you. They must have tweet notifications on for you.”

“Who’s Smash Mouth?”

“How the hell are you culturally relevant?”

“According to Liv, I’m a feminist icon.”

“Don’t get arrogant sir. I help run this twitter.”

“I’ll change the password. I do all the posting.”

“I won’t tell you if Evan Rachel Wood slides in your DMs.”

“Why would I care?”

“I know why you watched True Blood.”

“Touche.” He paused. “Do you think she will?”

“Give me the phone. I’ll bring it when Liv calls.”

“Why would she call?”

“She made a Twitter, sir. Followed you last week.”

“Shit,” he said, eyes wide. “I posted pictures of my food. She saw me acting like a Twitter guy.”

“You are a Twitter guy.”

He rolled his eyes, ending with a retweet of his new favorite addition to the conversation. 

@mia-liz @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegirlwiththemaleficient-tattoo​ @teachingpanda​

[weird-questions-from-an-infp-t]

OC EDIT FINAL DRAFT

TORIKAE AWAREMI-

THE ULTIMATE/SHSL EMPATH

INTRODUCTION:

Information:

Previous high school: Omoiyari Academy

Height: 5'9

Weight: 118 lbs.

Chest: 31 in.

Blood type: A

D.O.B: May 21

Likes: Helping others, Solving puzzles, Gaming, Anime, Music

Dislikes: Assholes, Cannibals, Sharp objects, Darkness, Stress

Notes: Ultimate Empath

SHOULD I MAKE FANFICTION OF HIM?

More Details below

Expressions:

1. Happy/Normal around strangers

2. Happy/Normal around friends

3. Excited/ Amazed

4. Neutral/ Sarcastic

5. Sad/ Worried

6. Angered/serious

7. Confused

8. Questioning your sanity/ Done with your bullshit

Personality:

Empathetic (obviously), good judge of character( at least he thinks, a little unsure ), loyal to his friends till they give him a reason not to, willing to give everyone a chance and try to see the good in them, except if they show signs of being a major asshole (*cough* Byakuya *cough*) , creative and thinks outside the box, he even comes up with a possible way to escape hope's peak (unfortunately fails), refuses to give up on anything once he starts, as well as give up on someone. He also gets stressed out easily

Torikae's inventory:

Torikae keeps a few things in his bag

A tape recorder, a bag of marbles, a whistle, bandages, a lighter, a baton stick, and a notebook and erasable pen, as well as anything he would collect in an investigation.

And on his bag are pins from a certain video game (twewy).

Torikae's Class trial minigames:

Empath Filter

It seems things are a lot of emotions flying through the air. It sounds like the perfect opportunity to use Torikae's skills. By using his headphones he can create an Empath Filter that can determine where these emotions come from, and maybe find some new clues as well...

How the Empath Filter works is you're given a set of emojis, each emoji represents the emotion of someone participating in the class trial, in order to advance you must match each emoji with the correct person, match someone with the wrong emoji and you lose influence. To figure out who's emoji belongs to who you must use Torikae's noise cancelling headphones and the frequency meter. The screen will show a dial, this dial represents how much the headphones mute outside noise, this in turn will adjust the frequency meter, the frequency meter looks similar to the heartbeat gauge in Twilight syndrome murder case, each person has their own frequency meter, when the frequencies line up you'll get an exact read on that person's emotions, some people will have the same frequency. Once everyone is matched with the correct emoji you'll advance, as well as get a truth bullet.

Eventually you'll also get a skill that will automatically match half of the class with emojis.

Inventory Search

With all the stuff Torikae collected during the investigation it seems his bag has become cluttered. To find the evidence you need you must search through his inventory to find it, just make sure you don't grab the wrong thing.

This minigame takes the form of a crane game. Using the crane you must navigate through the bag to grab the right evidence needed , once you grab it you have to navigate back out of the bag in order to present it, but you only have a certain amount of time to do it, and if you hit the bottom of the bag or grab the wrong thing your influence decreases and you have to start over.

Brain Battle

Hmmm, with all the ideas and opinions of what happened Torikae has become stressed out, and it doesn't look like he can calm down anytime soon, at least not directly. To calm him down you must enter his mind to stop the stress and figure out the truth. But watch out, the mind is a dangerous place, so be careful.

Brain Battle is Torikae's version of the Logic Dive and Psyche Taxi. How Brain Battle works is that Torikae has to navigate through his mind to figure out what really happened, using an avatar with a blade you must charge through the mind while avoiding obstacles representing stress. Eventually you'll come across two or three choices, similar to Logic Dive and Psyche Taxi. Only this time it takes the form of warriors battling each other, when this happens time slows down. To continue you must defeat the wrong choices and team up with the correct choice to advance, but take to long to choose or fight the correct choice instead you'll get caught in the crossfire and lose influence. After gathering the correct choices together you must fight the boss warrior representing most of Torikae's stress with your allies, once defeated Torikae will calm down and the truth will be revealed.

Bonus ability ( for fanfiction)

Truth bullet fusion

During the stories Torikae will combine truth bullets with the other protagonists when information is shared between them.

Let me know what you think, and if you want to know more just let me know.

Tagging friends to hear their opinion:

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[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

i’m in love with a stripper

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: mature warnings: strip club environment, suggestive themes (no actual smut tho) gender neutral stripper!reader x hawks. afab implied but can be read either way.

your job was to look good, feel bad, and entertain. in the most literal sense.

life as an ‘exotic dancer’ wasn’t nearly as glamorous as movies and shit made it out to be. your body ached constantly, you had nearly fought about 4 people in the past two weeks, and you came home in the morning smelling like alcohol and sweat and some random cologne. the pay wasn’t amazing on its own, so you had to rut yourself against old men to pay your rent.

and yet, it was addicting in a way you couldn’t exactly explain. you had wanted to work in the entertainment industry since you were little, a star up on the big screen. this was sort-of similar. you had eyes on you at all times, and it was your job to put on a great show. but instead of red-carpets it was party favors and gross back-room carpeting. 

it was good workout, and you knew you looked good enough to taste, so that was always a plus. tonight, you were all dolled up, one of your more femme looks. your shorts were riding low on your hips, yet still stopped so high on your legs that it could be considered more of a belt than a pair of shorts. your thong straps framed your hips, bright red in comparison to the blue jean shorts. you had a red bikini top on, and a crop top that was yet again just another shred of fabric framing it. your shoes were red and tall enough to make you feel like you were on top of the world. 

you had gotten used to the sashay and drama of all the bullshit presentation, perfected your sultry stare, and polished your pole skills. yes, you could use work. but so could everyone, it was an art that you were still constantly trying to learn more about. 

so as you walked your way out on stage on a busy friday night, you could tell that tonight would be a good tip night. first off, there was MUCH more security than normal, which meant that someone important was probably in attendance for some kind of ‘special night’. they got bachelor parties and birthday parties all the time, but usually they weren’t this… guarded?

 it was strange, but you instead focused on feelings the rhythm in your bones as you strutted your way up to the pole, starting to go into one of your choreographed routines that you knew like the back of your hand. though you supposed you could throw in some more risky moves, for whoever was currently paying for your console gaming subscription. being in the air was always exhilarating, but you were always worried about flashing too much. you knew that it would happen eventually, but you would still prefer for it not to.

you spun too fast on your way down and got that wobbling feeling in your stomach as your heels hit the stage a bit too hard to be ‘graceful’. oh well, you thought as you moved to the more floor-based part of your routine. you brought your hands up, running them over your body and pulling at your crop top, pulling it off and throwing it further back on the stage to be retrieved when you were done with your set. 

you made it slow, teasing, swaying your hips to the beat of the song and running your hands back down, under the strings of your thong to snap them against your hips. it was effective, but it was hard not to wince in annoyance. you were too salty to do this shit. it was a lucky thing that you were so good at acting. you slid further onto your knees, back arched as you looked some random guy that was halfway decent and crawled forward. that was something that always racked in tips. it made folks feel engaged with the whole experience. the guy held up a 20 and you stuck it under your thong strap, moving to collect more of the money that had been thrown at you.

you were honest with yourself when you said you loved the attention that this job brought. there were many people out in the crowd that wanted you, that sat in their chair or stood amongst the sweaty crowd with a white-knucked grip and lust in their eyes, and you ate it up. you loved being wanted, it was one of the worlds wonders. 

eventually, you finished your set, hair tousled from flipping it, back of your knees and your hands sore from gripping the pole, but ultimately you felt invigorated. energized. like someone had wound you up like a toy. and now you had to pounce on someone in hopes of attention and the money you needed to buy that new game you had been saving up for. comical.

you could tell a bunch of the dancers were anticipating the party that was in tonight. it was obvious they were important, and important people had money. so the dancers that weren’t on the stage currently were prowling around the VIP area, looking to advertise themselves.

you decided to do the charity work and tend to the rest of the forgotten crowd. you knew from experience that eventually the richer guests would get tired of giving their money away and eventually leave. and the rest of the crowd was just sitting there, so you slipped your way in to the seats that were closer to the stage (shitty stripper etiquette, but some of thesen dancers were fuckin’ shady sometimes) and found some dude who looked wimpy enough to play the whole deity act with. 

you walked your way around the chair, placing your hands on his shoulders and beginning to rub them, your hand making it’s way down his chest as you whispered a greeting in his ear. you used your other hand to run through his hair, plucking the bill in his hand out of his hand and into your g string on your hip with the rest of them. you moved back around the chair and plopped down on his lap, feigning interest and asking him about his day, making him feel special with the whole shebang. you eventually were able to make quiet some money from that guy, surprisingly. and you left him alone and unsatisfied when the lights dimmed between sets. 

now, to find someone else out of sight of the first guy. you were on your way to do that when something caught your eye. a glimmer of gold, no- not metal, someones eyes. you were momentarily mesmerized before you realized that the person attached to those honey irises was staring at you. at you. from the VIP booth. while you were in the middle of the crowd. you were never flustered, so it was new when you felt a heat in your cheeks. 

you quickly put your act back on, throwing him a wink. he made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger, but you gave him a playful grin and a little teasing wave of dismissal. you had no idea what came over you to do that, but you decided to stick with this little ‘hard-to-get’ persona, and you disappeared into the crowd. 

not 10 minutes later you were grinding on some guy through your shorts, just to work that 50 out of his hand. he was one of the assholes that would promise and never give. it was hypocritical for you to think that way, you supposed, but it was your job. either way, you got it from him by nosing up his neck (too much cologne) and giggling in his ear. and he put the bill in your g-string himself. gross.

you slid away from him between sets like you always did, and once again felt the heat of eyes on you. this was different, however. it wasn’t like the usual eyes on you, the gazes you had grown to crave and expect. this was predatory. you were being watched like a hawk. you spun around to find him staring at you again, this time split off from his little friends and instead sitting in a chair further back from the stage. he gave you a certain look and raised his hand, waving a bill in his hand. like bait! that was hotter than it should have been. 

still, decided to make your way over to him, stopping in front of his chair, towering over him in your platform heels as he sat in the chair. he didn’t seem too physically imposing, but his energy was cockier than shit and you could tell he was bulked up. you usually didn’t fuck with these types, but something about him was just magnetic. it was insane. he leaned back in his chair, obviously insinuating that he wanted the same treatment as the others. you instead took a singular finger and raised his chin up to meet his eyes as they ran you up and down. 

and that was when you realized, under the dim lights, that you were a complete and total idiot. you hadn’t even realize that the man in front of you was hawks, number two pro hero and the man too fast for his own good. you tried not to make a face, but you knew he could most definitely see in your eyes the minute you put the puzzle pieces together. what the fuck was he doing in a place like this?

“what the fuck is someone like you doing in a place like this?” you asked, coming out of your mouth before you could really stop yourself. he only chuckled, grinning as you felt his jaw tense against your finger. the main reason you didn’t recognize him is because there was a lack of giant red wings.

“what anyone else is tryin’ to do. have a good time! it’s my friends birthday, i have a life outside work, you know?” his voice was barely heard over the pounding of the music and the bass rattling under your feet. 

“what about your reputation? i’m surprised there isn’t a line to gag on your dick at this point,” you held no filter in speaking to him. you never had it with anyone else, really, and what was so special about him? he was just another dude in the club, so you did what you always did and slid into his lap, pressing your bodies together in all the ways you knew did the best. you watched something flash in his eyes as he bit his lip for a moment. he looked back up to meet your eyes again.

“well, how long did it take you to recognize me? and you’re sober, aren’t you?” hawks brought a sculpted arm up to wrap around your waist, and you slapped it away as you worked your hips against his to the beat. 

“no comment. and no touching, unless you want to pay for that too.”

“i might just have to. what’s your name, gorgeous?” his face was too smug for a man who could buy the building, yet completely in the the eye of the public had a semi hard-on for a stranger in some daisy dukes. 

“i don’t know, what’s yours?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. you didn’t know his real name, no one did. it was a mystery highly speculated about online, not that you checked or anything. 

“fair enough, fair enough. pick one before i blow a couple hundred on getting free roam to touch you.” he said, rolling his hips up to meet yours. this shocked you, catching your breath, and you knew he had noticed by the shit-eating grin he wore. 

you gave him your stripper name. it was sufficient enough to add another layer of mystery, because even though you were in his lap, you wanted to keep up this game of cat and mouse. predator and prey.

the thought of that made you tingle. you told him your rates, and he forked it over quite a fuckin’ bit. you stood up from where you were sat in his lap (thought the loss was more upsetting than you would care to admit). you took his wrist (his hand was big) and started to drag him back to one of the more secluded areas. 

you had to pass the VIP area to do that, and when you did, you heard a shout. it scared the shit out of you for starters, but hawks seemed to recognize the voice. it was coming from a woman with white hair and rabbit ears, currently cheering hawks on.

“fuckin’ get some, dude!” she said, and her voice was strangely familiar as hawks flashed an award-winning grin and a thumbs up. you winked at her and pulled hawks on with you.

you pulled him into a pseudo-room in the back. not cut off by doors, but isolated and split off by room dividers. you pushed him back onto one of the booth-like seats lining the wall.

the music was quieter back here, and it was easier to hear yourself think. the lights were dim and the bass was still thumping through the floor. there was no one back here, just you and him. 

“ ‘kay, so i’m technically not supposed to let you touch me, but you just paid for my groceries and they don’t really check the cameras here. also, you’re cute.” you rambled off, more genuine and clearer now that the music wasn’t so intense in the middle of the madness. and then, catching the beat, you started your ministrations, rolling your hips against his and hearing his breath catch as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“so i’ve been told,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

“don’t let it go to your head, princess.” you said, and he didn’t reply, too focused on oogling you.

his hands came up to hold your waist, and he put his effort into moving along with you, and his grinding did not go unnoticed. or unappreciated, for that matter. with his hips at your waist, he raked his thumbs under your thong straps and snaps them against your hips like you had earlier. it earns a breathy chuckle from you as you watched his pupils pin. you pulled back, standing and watching his face sour as his hands were pulled from your waist. but you decided to give him a little show, just ‘cuz you had a case of the hots for him and the way he was looking at you was much appreciated.

you now stood in front of him, towering above him as you toyed with the waistband of your daisy dukes. he simply bit his lip, practically eye-fucking you. it was exhilarating. you enjoyed the lustful gazes from customers, but this was on a different level. you felt truly alive, and yet like you were melting all the same. your insides felt gooey but you kept your perfected expression hard, movements practiced, sex appeal seasoned to flawlessness. and now you unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down to reveal your bright red thong, hips, legs and torso all one long line. he looked at you like dinner and you were fucking living for it.

you kneeled inbetween his legs, laying your head on one of his thighs in the way you knew drove people crazy.

you heard a small “god damn,” exit his mouth as he looked at you, entranced as you caught his t-shirt on your way up his body with your teeth, pulling it up and dropping it back down, promptly standing up to slide backwards into his lap. you roll your ass where you know it’s appreciated and hear his breathing speed up behind you. you can practically hear his heart pounding to match your own, like a drum to the beat. your body laid down the bass, your eyes were the melody and he was drowning.

and when it was all over, poor guy walked out of the club with his fellow semi-disguised pro-heros with a raging hard on.

and later on, when you were pulling all your money out to count it, you caught a piece of paper rolled up along a $100 bill. it was his number. a pro-hero gave you his number. that was risky, especially in the type of place they were in.

you liked the risk he took. you put his number in your phone. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Take Me to Your Leader.”

I hope you guys are all having a great week, and I hope you enjoy the read.

Captain Kell sat in his room's boots up on the small desk space as he watched the news report filtering in from over the feed.

“Early this morning the chairwoman of the UN has announced a state of emergency and launched a formal investigation into the attempted assassination of the GA’s Admiral Vir. This all comes in response to the announcement by UN president late last night  that they were unable to identify connections to any internal terrorist organizations after a woman was caught attempting to assassinate the Admiral during one of his speeches two months ago. The failed assassination was thanks to 25 year old marine Angle Ramirez who dove in front of the bullet for his commanding officer, and is now (as his family claims) fully healed and back to work. Since the incident, GA and UNSC leaders alike have encouraged Admiral Vir to stay away from earth as much as possible and remain on his ship until further notice.  At a request from one of our journalists yesterday morning, he agreed to a statement from his ship the Omen.”

There was a flickering on the screen as a face appeared  on the news feed. It was, somewhat from a distance, and the lens seems grainy from radiation interference, but the man seen was tall and blond and had one green eye though he was wearing an eyepatch. Captain kell thought he looked a little more lean than the admiral, but it was hard to tell with all the distortion.

When the man began to speak there was something missing in the voice as well, but it would hardly be noticeable.

There was a knock at his door and he quickly threw his feet down from the desk walking over to throw the door open and step outside into the hall. Angelo was waiting for him there and without saying a word the two of them walked down the long hallway and to the planning room.

Mace was still discussing with some of the other men and women there., and Geea and Beatrice were still loitering at the back.

Captain Kell couldn’t keep the distaste from his thoughts as he looked at the two of them. There was a prime example of toxic love if he had ever seen it. The two were clearly partnered or, at the very least, dating, but he had never seen two people who enjoyed pissing each other off as much as they did. WIth them there was plenty of jealousy and mistrust to go around. And as for Geea’s views on Drev religion, well they were backwards to say the least.

He had seem the same sort of fanaticism in certain shamed drev generals after the war, radical, and suicidal almost in nature.

She had no real idea what the meaning of the new law was.

As soon as he walked in the two women turned to look up at him, their arms crossed over their chests. Beatrice was playing with some big ass knives like that was likely to impress anyone, but really all he saw was some crazy asshole whose parents probably didn’t give her enough attention when she was a kid.

He sad down at the table.

Geea leaned forward expectantly.

“Setting course/”

He turned his head to look up at her, “Yes, setting course to whatever cesspit of corruption spawned you.”

Geea pulled back, “Excuse me, but we hired you for a job, not for insults.” One of her hands reached for the weapons on her belt, but Noble stepped forward spear at the ready. He was a good foot taller than she was, and he knew for a fact he was probably a better warrior. He had a natural talent for it.

He leaned back in his seat, “You hired me for a job and now expect me to fling my dead corpse at the Omen like my ship is going to be able to handle that.” he shook his head, “You hired me which means we are going to do this MY way, which means we are going to do it quiet, and we are going to do it proper. That means NONE of this comes back on me. If we show up at the omen right now and bust down their doors, we are going to get atomized by two platoons of marines and an entire clan of Drev. LEts not also forget that the Admiral Isn’t exactly going to be easy to just kill.” Captain Kell waved a hand wildly, “He has a fucking Drev SAINT on his crew, that is hardly something I think I want to deal with.” he shook his head, “No no, this is going to take me a lot longer to plan, and it is going to require a lot more material that I don’t already have.”

Geea bristled in impatience and indignation.

“I am not going to throw my life away for this mission, and if you want to push that, than I will throw you out of the airlock faster than you can say, “please captain, please I was just being a whiny little bitch.” The room was silent around Geaa’s seething, but he paid her no mind. She didn’t exactly scare him.

She was a minor player in the black market at best, and the way she moved told him she was no great shakes as a warrior either. Probably used to fighting humans so developed a habit of using brute force to overcome them with her height. As for Beatrice, he had a feeling that she made up for skill mostly in unpredictability and sheer fury.

Anyone can look scary if they scream real loud and flail their knives at you.

The way their crew behaved was enough to tell him as  much. No one on the ship really respected them, and Geea ruled mostly out of ear, her men were not as loyal to her as she thought they might be, and he had a feeling that, for the right price, he could buy them off if he wanted.

He rested his palms flat against the table before him, “You understand if I am going to do this I am going to need all the right equipment. You want the man gone but I want it to look like some freak disappearance The last thing my crew needs is the long arm of the GA down on our heads.” he shook his head, “No we need to do this strategically, and we need to do this quietly, and we are going to start by getting the tech we need to pull this off without being seen.”

He turned to look at the two of them, “I am assuming that you two know where I can get those sorts of things…. Under the radar.”

Geea crossed her arms over her chest, “And YOU don’t. You are a pirate after all.”

“Yeah, I generally tend to STEAL from other people and sell it to middle men. I don’t generally tend to buy any of the goods.”

Geea  stood, waiting for a long moment before finally uncurling her hands in annoyance, “Fine, Fine, but we make this quick.”

He nodded his head once and motioned her to continue on following her up and to the bridge where he watched her set a course.

He tried to make it look like he wasn’t watching her, but in the back of his mind he was quickly memorizing the coordinates that he saw appearing on screen. Granted he did have a bot installed that should copy it for him, but you can never trust technology to do exactly what you expect it to do.

When she was done, he moved forward and slid into the Captain’s chair, familiar with the machine as he prepared it for a warp sequence.

Despite him being very familiar with this ship, more than one time he found himself accidentally reaching for controls that weren’t there. He cursed his muscle memory, though he forced the ship into doing what he wanted, alerting the crew to the imminent warp before he could accidentally kill one of them by sheer freak accident.

Geea watched him from behind.

He knew she didn’t much like him.

That was fine by him. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person that he would want to be liked by.

They came out of warp a few moments later with a hard lurch through the internal dampeners were doing their job to avoid smearing him across the front windscreen like window pizza.

She walked up to stand beside him and rested her hand of the chair, the gesture reminded him of someone else, and it felt wrong to have her do it, though he tried not to show his discomfort.

“Just beyond that asteroid.”

Captain Kell raised an eyebrow. This was all very interesting. Here he was thinking they would end up back on Noctopolis, for he had been sure that that was the hub of all pirate activity in the universe, but he guessed not. As they came around another asteroid, his eyes fell on a large chunk of rock that must have been over ten miles wide in his shi[s estimation, and from here he could already see the hive of docking ports and extending protrusions built into the rock.

He blinked in awe at the glittering blue lights and the hive of activity surrounding the massive asteroid.

Ships flew in and out through open docking bays landing here and there on extending arms. Good were moved by silent crane arms through space as add ons were constantly being made by men in space suits scurrying over the rock. The palace was…. Amazing at the same time it was an absolute disaster of engineering. You would never see something like tat made by the GA or UNSC, but from here he could see plenty of influence from all parties.

As they flew closer, they were absolutely dwarfed by the massive rock, and it’s protruding arms. All around him he saw human building techniques, and Tesraki logos stamped on almost everything as they moved forward. Massive viewing screens were all around them doing advertisements on things would would never have seen on a location run by UNSC or GA interference.

The one to his right was some sort of bootleg pill for weightloss, while, on the other side, someone was advertising some kind of flamethrower. The screen above that was giving the specs for the newest design in railgun technology.

His eyes were wide as he stared at all of it, and his heart began to race fast inside his chest.

Now THIS was awesome.

Being a space pirate sure did have its perks.

Over the radio feed static rolled in and out as the broadcasts from the different advertisements tried to pick up his frequency.

But one voice came in clear and crisp above all others, “Unknown aircraft. Identify yourself.”

“This is the Infinity requesting docking.”

There was a momentary pause over the other end of the line, as their ship was likely scanned before, “Docking permission granted, please proceed to hanger E docking space 6.”

He did as ordered, flying his ship down to the entrance of the docking bay, where he was ordered to slow, and then a large mechanical hand grabbed them around the hull and pulled them further into the asteroid.

They were dragged inside a ways, though he could definitely have flown in himself, and eventually sat down on E6. 

There was a sharp jolt as they made connection with the airlock, and he stood rom his spot, turning and walking past Geea and towards the cargo bay where his men were waiting. He looked at them each in turn, making slow eye contact with them.

“You know what to do?”

There was a nod as they recognized the true words behind his eye contact, and they quickly moved into pairs of two discussing which piece of “equipment” they were looking for.  It likely wouldn’t take them long, but he didn’t expect that part of their mission to take that long anyway.

Following after them, he was accompanied by Geea, Beatrice and Noble as they walked out into the tube and finally, into the absolutely massive atrium of the hidden Pirate city.

He had to stop, he just couldn’t help it, it was like nothing he had ever seen before, and his mind just couldn’t wrap itself around the massive room full of people and billboards and holograms. There were railed transports on the floor, and there were vendors selling strange food at every turn. It might have been any normal metropolitan area if it weren’t for the sort of advertisements for weapons, and strange illegal creams.

There was one place that was advertising body modifications….. With a ten percent discount if you got the limb removed with them as well.

On another wall someone was advertising a new mechanical eye. The technology hadn’t been released to the public yet, but the features…. Well the features were amazing. He found himself dragged in and rendered mostly stunned. They had him hooked by the first demonstration.

He wanted a cool new mechanical eye.

But Geea grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him, “Aren’t we supposed to be doing something.”

Angrily he frowned and held up a hand turning on her with his eyes narrowed.

He prodded her in the chest in a show of dominance towards her. Letting her know that he wasn’t afraid of being insulted or intimidated by someone  like her. To him she was nothing.

“Look, I’m not stupid. I know that this genius little assasination attempt wasn’t your idea, so right here and right now, you better take me to the asshole who set you up for this is you can color me gone. I don’t work through third parties.” He prodded her in the chest again with one finer, “I don’t trust them.”

The Drev stared down at him with absolute rage and consternation.

“Don’t touch me.” She hissed.

He prodded her again, “Just try and stop me.”

She reached for his hand, but he caught her by the wrist and twisted it. He knew the way Drev joints worked, so he knew exactly what NOT to do. She howled in pain and Beatrice moved forward to help, but a spear to her throat by Noble was enough to stop her in her tracks.

“Show me your boss, or your girlfriend becomes a kabob, your choice.”

There was a sharp growl and finally Geea agreed, taking her hand back with some measure of pain and annoyance, “Fine, fine…. Follow me.”

She stalked away grumpily and Noble kept an eye on beatrice as the were led further into the station.

The captain kept his head turning this way and that distracted by the bright and colorful ads, advertising things that he wanted, and some things that he didn’t.

To his surprise, more than once he saw advertisements for Iron eye Knockoffs. He would have dared get a procedure done on this back alley asteroid, but it was still quite shocking. This air of shock continued along with him as he was led down through the darkness and into the tight passages and tunnels of the Asteroid.

Eventually Geea stopped in front of a door and knocked once.

The camera above the door whirred and looked down at them. Geea waved to it and with a hiss it finally opened.

They were led into a small waiting room with pristine little couches as if he was expecting to see a doctor at any moment, but after a few minutes of sitting another door opened and they were allowed through into the next room.

Geea told him to stay put as she was led behind yet another door.

Not to be left Behind, Beatrice followed after, giving him the opportunity to slip over to the door and quickly deploy a small circular camera which used technology unknown to him to see through the door. 

It streamed directly into his fake eye as he closed the real one, and glanced around the room.

He could hear voices, and enhanced the sound of his implants.

“Did you get the assassin.”

“Yes, but there have been some, hiccups.”

“What might that be?”

“He is insisting on meeting his employers.”

The voice seemed almost bored with the idiot pirates, “Then let him meet someone, he doesn’t have to know. Jerah over there will do just fine.”

He turned his fake eye towards the source of the voice falling on some sort of hologram. He quickly looked up just as Geea was turning back towards the door.

He managed to make it up to the person’s face, a Rundi, how str-

Then he froze in shock and disbelief.

Geea reached towards the door, and it was only with a swift movement he was able to pull his camera away in time an leap from the door as she stepped from the room.

He tried to keep the horror and shock on his face in check as he was led into the room to meet his “employer.”

He didn’t care though.

He knew the truth.

There was plenty of evidence on that camera. Evidence that the chairwoman of the GA had ordered his assassination.

[foxy-exy]

Strange Engagement - Kevaaron

Prompt from here 09. we’re strangers who meet at a bar, get drunk, and wake up to announcements of our new engagement all over our social media - what did we do???

cw: alcohol use, blacking out, vomit mention, the vaguest suggestions of sexual content — also take note that sexual content happens while both of them are drunk, fyi

Finished this finally for a late bday present for @starsandgutters !!

Aaron does not get blackout drunk. Well, not anymore. It’s a rule he’s set for himself.

But damn if his recent breakup with Katelyn, who was supposed to be the love of his life, hasn’t hit him hard. And fuck if this man that took up residence next to him at the bar two hours ago isn’t infuriating enough to have Aaron’s pride on the fucking line here.

“You can’t take another,” snorts the asshole. Keegan. No, Kelvin. No…

“Fuck you, Kevin,” slurs Aaron, and feels the world spin a little, but the name is right. That’s right. Kevin Day. Some kind of sports guy, Aaron thinks he’s seen him on TV sometime or another. But that doesn’t mean shit for his ability to out-drink Aaron.

Aaron can so take another shot.

“Prove it,” Kevin sneers, and Aaron growls.

Aaron smacks the bar top, and the bartender, Roland, skeptically eyes them both, but Aaron’s a regular and they’re old friends, so Aaron merely has to glare back and gesture impatiently for Roland to slide another shot his way.

Aaron downs it without pause, and there’s laughter, hooting, from onlookers he didn’t know he had. He swallows against the burn and flicks a glance to more strangers, grinning and nodding at him, flashing thumbs up and pumping fists. He manages a jerky nod before spinning back to Kevin, swaying slightly. “I did it. Can you, big shot?”

Not the wittiest one liner he’s ever delivered, especially with all his syllables melding together as his mouth refuses to work with him, but Kevin also seems slightly off-balance as he turns to Roland, nodding for his next round.

“I absolutely should cut you both off before you start brawling,” sighs Roland, pouring another shot. “You’re lucky I’m an enabler.”

“Three more,” blurts Aaron, as Kevin gulps down his tiny glass. “Unless you can’t handle it.”

“You’re tiny, you’re the one who should be worried,” spits Kevin, though it’s hoarse through the alcohol.

“Oh my god,” Roland says, as he pours the shots and shoves them in front of them both, walking away with his hands up. “I’m done with you both for tonight.”

“Bet you you’ll still tap out before me,” Aaron says challengingly, narrowing his eyes up at Kevin, watching the too-tall man narrow his own green eyes back, the lights of the club catching on the tiny number 2 tattoo on his cheekbone, the tendrils of black hair springing free from his quiff. Aaron blinks away his wandering gaze, realizing Kevin is lifting another shot to his lips, and reaches to do the same, the fire of competition spurring him on.

The trickles of light and sound filter through warm, hazy drunkenness. Aaron is wrapped up in something skin-hot and sweat-sticky, hair between his fingers and another pair of lips melded to his and he cannot think, the wall unyielding at his back and the floor unreachable as his legs wrap around hips.

“Fuck,” mumbles a male voice, into his mouth, and Aaron hums in agreement, lazily tightening his hold and letting a hand fall down the back of his makeout partner, digging his fingernails into a crisp shirt and scratching.

The man — Aaron lets his eyes flutter open as the pair of them part for a moment of breath — Kevin, Kevin Day, shudders against him at the rough treatment and lets his head fall to where Aaron’s shoulder meets his neck, mouthing at the skin there, and Aaron responds with his own shiver.

He falls back into Kevin’s lips with a tug at his hair to drag him back up, and Aaron blacks back out at the kiss.

“We should get married.”

“That’s so stupid, that’s a terrible idea. Just because you’re hot doesn’t mean —”

“But you’re getting over your ex too. You know what would stick it to our exes? Getting fucking engaged.”

“You’re out of it, I can’t get publicly engaged to a man. I’d get os — ostra — I’d get bad press.”

“Fuck that, who cares. Buy me a ring, asshole, you’re rich.”

“Fuck, fine. Fine, I will, if you do that again.”

“Shit, Kevin.”

Aaron’s head pounds a terrible rhythm, and he thinks perhaps he attempted to drink sand last night. There’s no other way his mouth and throat would be this awful, gritty texture.

The nausea that hits a moment later threatens to bring up whatever he had last swallowed, and he spills out of bed to stumble-sprint to the toilet.

When he finally hobbles back to the bedroom with the speed of an especially slow zombie, he stops dead when he finds the form of another person burrowed into his pillow.

Kevin Day groans when Aaron pulls the pillow away from him, shielding his eyes from the bedroom light, and squints up at him like he, too, is not sure how he got there.

“A-Aaron?” he finally ventures.

“Congrats, you remember my fucking name. Get out of my bed.”

Kevin does not, in fact, get out of his bed, simply blinks down at his own shirtlessness, lifts the sheet to apparently check on whether he is wearing pants. (Aaron is suspiciously only in his boxers, and he suspects Kevin is too.) “What happened last night?”

“Guess I was stupid and lonely enough to bring you back to my apartment, for some reason.” Aaron rolls his eyes. Why he allowed himself to reach that drunken point in the first place is beyond him. He can’t remember the last time he allowed himself to actually check another man out, let alone…

He realizes suddenly that the terribly shrill ringing he’s heard several times now is his phone, muffled underneath fabric somewhere on the floor of his room. Someone’s calling him.

It takes him several minutes to find the source of the noise, but the mystery caller keeps redialing when the call drops. When Aaron recovers his phone, it’s with an awful sinking feeling that he sees TWIN MENACE blinking across the screen.

Andrew does not call him for no reason.

“Hello?” he mumbles into the phone, and there is an awful silence for a minute on Andrew’s end.

“Care to tell me, oh brother mine, what exactly happened that made you post what you did on Facebook last night?”

Aaron’s stomach drops yet lower. He feels dizzy. “What?”

“Nicky’s been calling you, and when you didn’t pick up, he started calling me. What the fuck did you do?”

“W-what did I do?” Aaron stabs the speakerphone button to pull his phone from his ear and navigate to Facebook. His notifications are blowing up, all over a photo he definitely doesn’t remember posting.

It takes a moment to load when he opens it, and the sound he makes when it does makes Kevin wince and cover his ears.

Kevin and Aaron are very deeply and disgustingly making out, and Aaron is holding a middle finger up to the camera. His left middle finger. And below that middle finger, a ring sits on his finger.

An engagement ring. That is still on his ring finger when Aaron looks down at it.

The caption reads, fuck y’all we’re getting married.

“You fucking proposed to me?” he yells at Kevin, who had been squinting one open eye at him, leaning forward to listen.

Kevin falls out of bed in a tangle of long limbs, with his own squawk. “What?”

“I have an engagement ring. I posted that we’re getting married. Oh my god.”

“Dumbass,” is barely audible from the phone speaker, and then the call disconnects.

“Wait,” Kevin mumbles, rubbing his head and trying to navigate sheets that are still wrapped around him. “Wait, no. You proposed to me. You started this. I know that much. I thought it was a bad idea.”

“Obviously not enough to not get me a ring.”

“Quiet,” Kevin pleads.

“What were we thinking?” Aaron tugs on his hair. He’s not sure how it took him so long to notice the ring’s presence in the first place, it feels unbearably heavy on his finger now.

“You wanted to get back at your ex. And mine. We both were upset about our breakups,” Kevin reasons out slowly, eyes fixing on nothing as he appears to search his memory. “We had a drinking competition, and then, we started dancing, and then venting about our exes, and then we started…making out. It gets pretty fuzzy, but. You said we should get married, I didn’t think so. But you, uh. Convinced me.”

“How do I delete this? Fuck.” The exponentially growing number of comments of absolutely everyone he knows on the Facebook post blurs in front of his eyes.

Whoa, that’s a surprise. Happy for you!

Who’s the fiancé???

Didn’t realize you were with this guy now. Congrats on the engagement!

 Classmates, coworkers, distant family, and…

Aaron, what the fuck.

“Shitshitshitshit.”

Aaron throws the phone in a knee-jerk reaction, his brain narrowing to the tiny profile picture on the screen. Katelyn.

Kevin catches the phone in the same instinctive way, eyes wide as he stares at Aaron.

“She knows. She knows.”

“Who?”

“My ex, my… Katelyn. She saw. She’ll never take me back now. God, she thinks we’re…”

“Did you think she was going to?” Kevin asks incredulously. Like he fucking knows anything about Aaron and Katelyn’s relationship.

“She could have realized! That we were good! That she missed me! She could have —” Aaron’s throat closes over, and he realizes with horror that he is probably about to cry.

“Aaron.” Kevin still looks sickly pale, maybe a little green around the edges, but he nonetheless kind of crawls across Aaron’s bedroom floor to sit in front of him. Now that he’s extricated himself from the sheets, Aaron can see that he is indeed only wearing a very small pair of boxer-briefs. “She wasn’t going to. You were complaining about how your relationship had been, towards the end. It’s good you broke up.”

Aaron swallows back a lump in his throat and blinks away burning, shoving his fist into Kevin’s chest. “Shut up.”

Kevin looks down and takes Aaron’s fist in his own hands, uncurling it and contemplating the ring he’d apparently bought last night as he plays with Aaron’s fingers absently. “I miss my ex too. But she wasn’t good for me. We weren’t… it wasn’t very healthy, how we got together. And we didn’t know how to be healthy once we got out of that situation either.”

“Now look at us,” Aaron huffs sarcastically. “Oh-so-healthily drunk engaged.”

Kevin’s lips twitching into a involuntary smile is unexpectedly attractive, and the dark eyebrow he raises pulls a snort from Aaron that morphs into a giggle, and then Kevin snickers, and then they’re both laughing and staring at this fucking ridiculous ring that’s caused way too much trouble.

“It’s gaudy,” Aaron announces, when they’ve laughed themselves out. “You have no taste.”

“It’s expensive,” Kevin protests, immediately up in arms. “Look at how many diamonds there are.”

“Oh, of course you’d think bigger is better,” Aaron snarks, and Kevin glares at him, and Aaron shoves him back, raising his own eyebrows, but he can’t drop the grin curling across his face.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” Kevin returns, but before Aaron can toss one more flirty line thinly veiled as an insult back at him, another ringtone sounds from across the room.

Kevin turns toward the sound too fast and groans, hand lifting to his mouth queasily as he picks his way over to his own pants to fish out his phone. It cuts off just as he reaches it, but Kevin blinks down at his own screen, looking a little too off-balance.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asks.

“I think I… I think I posted something too. Christ.”

“Oh, so it’s all fine and good by you that I posted something, but when you’re the one making a fool of yourself, you think —”

“I could lose my contract.”

Aaron blinks. “Right. Playing…”

Kevin looks scandalized. “Exy? Do you not even know?”

“Forgive me for not knowing every detail of my fiancé’s life when I met you last night and forgot more than I remember of our encounter.”

Kevin appears slightly dead inside, face lit by countless popups his eyes flick through on screen. “My team manager has been texting me. If I lose my spot, I’m —”

 Aaron steps closer to peer at the texts, too. “Can they do that? That shouldn’t be allowed.”

Kevin turns a glazed gaze on him. “Exy is everything to me.”

Aaron feels a pang at the look, feels inexplicably compelled to fix it. “Well… we’re not even actually getting married, so it doesn’t matter, right? Just tell them that. Who cares?”

“It may be too late,” Kevin says in a terrible, numb voice, and Aaron is suddenly very deeply determined that it will not be too late to save his poor, sports-obsessed, asshole sort-of-fake fiancé’s career or so help him God.

“Give me that.”

“What are you doing?” Kevin asks helplessly as Aaron clicks through the frantic texts from Manager to the contact information.

“Setting the record straight,” Aaron says firmly, and hits the call button.

You can find more AFTG fics on my AO3, ihaveacleverfandomurl, linked in my bio!

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going  “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[theshireisburning-so-mordoritis]

Merry Christmas Baby

Day 10 of the 12 Days of Christmas songs series

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: 18+. Teasing. Female masturbation. Vaginal fingering. Oral - fem recieving. Orgasm denial. Roughish sex. Unprotected PIV.

A/N: So I maybe shouldn't of watched Bloodsucking Bastards before writing this because I ended up thirsty af for Max - oh well 🤷‍♀️

Taglist: @briefgalaxycat , @heythere-mel

You weren't really sure what to expect when it came to Christmas with Max Phillips but the man spoils you rotten. Not only is there more presents crammed under the tree than you can count but he surprises you with a gift each day from the beginning of December until the big day.

"I need more than just one day to spoil my girl the way she deserves." He purrs when you blushingly tell him after the first few days that it's too much. You're quite content with just a few gifts on the actual day but Max refuses to hear it and every morning you wake to a new gift beside you on his empty pillow after he's gone to work.

When you wake on Christmas eve, eyes fluttering open slowly as they adjust to the winter sun filtering through the window, you're slightly confused. There's no gift on your pillow, which doesn't bother you, but there's also no Max.

Jeez you know as a vamp he doesn't get tired but does the guy never take a break? You have the day off and you were hoping to be wrapped up in bed with him until at least noon before spending the rest of the day baking cookies whilst Max uses every trick he knows to distract you.

You frown when your toes graze something solid as you try and kick away the covers, sitting up to look at the bottom of bed suspiciously and roll your eyes lightly when you spot the gift wrapped box by your feet. Pulling it up onto your lap you quickly tear the wrapping and suck in a harsh breath when you see the intricate logo embellished on the black box. This latest present isn't for you in a sense, it's for him to enjoy on you.

The asshole has bought you lingerie, knowing full well what it does to you when he buys you these kind of gifts. Imagining him painstakingly choosing the perfect set to rip off you, teasing himself as he pictures you lay out for him in each one he picks up, makes you feral for him and your core pulses when you imagine the ravenous look in his eyes when you eventually wear this one for him.

Your hands shake as you open the box and pull away the soft tissue paper wrapping, heart skipping a beat when the deep crimson satin and lace is revealed. You nearly moan, everytime you've worn Max's favourite colour he's lost control and ravaged you before you can even make it to the bedroom.

Heat pools low in your belly and you fidget on the bed, mourning the fact he's not here when you need him so badly and that's when you realise. He's teasing you. He wants you desperate and begging for him to wreck you in his gift.

Pushing the box from your lap with a huff you drag yourself to the bathroom to get showered so you can start your day, cursing your vampire boyfriend for the tingling ache between your thighs.

When you return to your room, clasping a towel tightly around your body, you notice the little light on your phone blinking. The screen lights up when you grab it, revealing a message from Max.

How's the gift sweet cheeks? Hope I guessed the right size ;)

That bastard. He knows fine well the size is perfect, Max never fucked around when it came to buying you underwear. You growl as you imagine him leaning back in his chair in his office, smug smirk plastered across his irritatingly perfect face whilst he pictures you here, alone and frustrated. Well two can play at that game.

You let the towel drop to the floor and remove the lingerie from the box, slipping the set on and admiring the way it flatters you perfectly in the mirror. Max may be a cheeky little shit but you'll admit he's got one hell of an eye for what looks good on you. Probably helps that his eyes are never off you, always trailing over your body hungrily the second you're close by.

You stroke your hands across the exquisite fabric at your breasts and grin wickedly at your reflection. It's easy to see why Max loves this colour so much, you feel powerful and seductive.

Reaching for your phone you snap a quick photo, nothing too revealing but it's enough. The picture shows your neck bared to him as you tilt your head back, a satiny strap delicately curving over your shoulder and the swell of your breast framed by a peak of lace. You refuse to give him the whole show, knowing the tiny peak will leave him needing more.

You send the picture, smiling cheekily to yourself as you type.

See for yourself

Only seconds pass before your phone is ringing and Max's name blares across the screen. You let it ring for a moment or two, smirking as you imagine the impatient glare of his eyes when you finally accept the call.

"Hello?" You feign innocence.

"How am I supposed to be able to tell if your gift fits from that photo sweetheart?" His cocky voice drawls through the speaker but you don't miss the way it's deeper than usual. He's worked up already and you fully intend on making him suffer.

"Oh it fits perfectly Max and it feels so nice, all soft and silky against my skin. And the red looks simply…" You lick your lips before whispering. "...delicious."

He groans low in this throat and you hear shuffling, smirking wider as you realise he's having to adjust himself.

"Fuck, baby." He mutters.

You continue to tease him, lying down on the bed and you know he can hear every move you make.

"It's a shame you weren't here when I woke up Max, I had plans for us that this lingerie would have been perfect for." You sigh dramatically, fighting a grin when you hear a gruff curse.

"I'll be back in a few hours sweetheart, just got a few things to finish up before Christmas." He croaks. All hints of cockiness gone from his voice and you know he's close to losing it.

That he just needs the right push.

You trail your free hand gently down your stomach before ghosting your fingers over your underwear, wondering if his hearing is good enough to pick up on the soft movements. Probably.

Max practically freezes on the other end, your gasps sending blood rushing straight to his cock and he doesn't realise his other hand has gripped his desk until the wood splinters beneath his fingers.

"I know honey it's okay, you've been treating me so nice I can't wait to return the favour." You croon, tone understanding before it drips sinful. "But I guess I'll just have to start without you."

Your fingers delve beneath your underwear to stroke your clit and you gasp into the phone.

Your breath stutters when his voice snaps harshly through the phone.

He can hear the wetness gathering on your fingers as you touch yourself and your teasing moans have him desperate to sink into you as deep as he can, make you scream his name as he pounds your slick, hot cunt.

He's going to fucking wreck you.

"Don't fucking move and don't you dare cum, you hear me sweetheart. I'm on my way." He growls and the call goes dead.

You blink at the phone in your hand in surprise. You didn't think he'd just up and leave work.

You don't have to wait long.

There's heat blazing in your gut, sending sparks across your skin as you grin. You rise from bed and grab one of his shirts to cover yourself as you pad around the apartment, desperately trying to distract yourself from the stickiness between your legs until Max gets home.

**

"I thought I told you not to move sweetheart and why have you covered up?"

The door almost flies of it's hinges as he throws it open and you worry he'll break the damn thing when he kicks it back shut before stalking towards you.

Every inch of him screams predator as his eyes rake over you, smug smirk on his lips as he notices you're wearing his shirt before his face shifts to something more feral.

You swallow thickly, heat licking up your spine as his fingers grasp your jaw, tilting your head to look up at him.

"I thought you'd enjoy unwrapping your present." You whisper, eyes watching him from beneath your lashes as he grins widely.

He leans down ever so slowly, lips ghosting over yours and you don't miss the way his eyes flash yellow for a moment.

"Babygirl I'm going to tear all of this from your pretty body and then I'm going to fucking ruin you."

He lets out a low whistle, winking as he mutters something about looking 'good enough to eat' before his arms reach around you and he grabs two handfuls of your ass to haul you flush against him. Max lifts you like you weigh nothing and vamp speeds into the bedroom where he throws you on the bed before shedding his jacket, waistcoat and tie and crawling onto the bed to slide up your body.

A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it and suddenly Max is on you.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails sinking into the expensive fabric of his suit as he crashes his lips against yours. His large hands stroke down your sides before fisting into the shirt and tearing it from your body, wrenching his mouth from yours so he can drink you in as you stand before him in the crimson ensemble.

He kisses and nips at every inch of you until you're writhing beneath him, lust blown eyes darting to yours when he mouths over your covered core and you whine needily for him. Max's grin is wicked when he slowly peels your panties from you dripping center and drags them down your legs, flinging them over his shoulder as his eyes feast upon you spread for him.

"Look how drenched you are for baby, can't wait to taste you." He smirks as you nod frantically.

You grip his hair when he ducks down and sucks your clit between his teeth, gently nibbling and flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue as you arch off the bed with a silent gasp. His responding groan vibrates through you, making you mewl and rock your hips into his mouth.

He gives your clit another hard suck and teases your entrance before slipping two fingers into your wet heat. Your breath comes in sharp bursts and pants as he moves his fingers inside you, finding that perfect spot with every curling motion as he laps at you greedily.

It's almost embarassing how quickly you feel yourself hurtling close to the edge and from the way you can feel Max's proud smirk against you, you know he's fully aware of just how close you are. Pleasure begins to spark along your spine and your toes are starting to curl when suddenly he pulls away from you and leaves you fluttering around nothing.

You whine as your approaching orgasm fades away and you're about to sit up and bitch at him when he grabs both your hands and pins you to the mattress.

"Ah ah honey, you wanted to be a brat and tease me, now it's my turn. Only thing that pretty little cunt of yours will be cumming on is my cock."

Max's eyes are almost glowing when you nod desperately and buck your hips up into his, moaning when his hard length brushes against you. It takes him no time at all to pull back and rid himself of his clothes and you of your bra before he's back on you again.

He presses a searing kiss to your lips as he lines himself up against your entrance and with one smooth thrust he fills you up completely, bottoming out as you both groan into each other's mouths. He doesn't give you a chance to adjust, setting a brutal pace that has you arching into his chest with a wail as each drag of his cock sends shockwaves of pleasure fizzing through your cunt.

His control is hanging by a thread as he fucks himself into you, holding back just enough to make sure he isn't hurting you as he bites and sucks kisses wherever he can, marking you up whilst you moan with abandon beneath him.

"Oh god Max - fuck right there - please."

He rises to his knees and hooks your legs over your shoulders, sliding in deeper and throwing his head back with a growl as you clench around him from the way his cock hits just the right place inside you. He can feel you getting close again, your body is beginning to tremble and your cunt flutters around him wildly.

He briefly considers denying you again but you feel too fucking good, your wet heat and the sounds of his skin slapping agaisnt yours has consumed his senses but once you start begging for him that's when he's truly lost.

He groans darkly, hips moving faster and fingers slipping from your thigh to your cunt as he presses quick circles to your clit.

"You know I can't say no when you beg for me like that - fuck baby - come for me." He demands and you scream as you shatter around him. Tidal waves of pleasure obliterating your body as you gasp and convulse, the force of your orgasm dragging Max into his as he roars and throbs inside you.

When the last of the aftershocks leave you both spent he gently lowers your legs and collapses against you, chuckling when your breath leaves you in a whoosh. His eyes are back to their soft, warm brown as he props his chin on your chest and grins at you whilst you card a hand through his hair.

"I take it you liked the look of the lingerie then?" You quip at him with a laugh and he grins even wider as he watches you, eyes sparkling with amusment and adoration.

"You looked perfect as always." He smirks then for a moment he seems to hesitate before steeling himself. "But I know something that would make it better."

Looking at him curiously, you notice the slight tension in his shoulders but don't mention it, instead choosing to joke.

"Better than perfect? Well consider me intrigued!" You laugh and his lips twitch into a nervous smile as he gets up and rumages through one of his drawers before making his way back to you and placing a small bag on your lap.

"This was supposed to be for tomorrow but I don't think I can wait any longer." He says quietly.

You look at the gift and then back to him with a small frown but he simply nods for you to open it. Fingers shakily untying the small bag, you gasp lightly when you dip your hand inside and your fingers brush a small velvet box.

You glance up at Max as you pull it out and you think this is the most unsure of himself you've ever seen him and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

"Max?" You whisper, staring between him and the box whilst tears cloud your eyes. You're not an idiot, if it was normal jewellery in the box he wouldn't look so afraid, which could only mean one thing.

He clears his throat and looks at you, eyes brimming with emotion that cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

"I know it's hardly romantic doing this after we've just had sex but I'm just looking at you now and you're so perfect, I love you so much and every day I've had to wait has felt like a lifetime." He murmurs and you sniffle lightly. " Please open it."

You can't refuse his whispered plea and no part of you wants to. Gently opening the box, a sob escapes your lips when you see the ring. A beautiful diamond lays nestled between a small cluster of rubies on a silver band.

"A symbol of the light you brought into my life when there was only bloodshed." Max tells you and the tears slip freely down your cheeks as you clutch the box to your chest and he moves closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"I want you for the rest of your life or for eternity if you choose to eventually turn. I want to do this with you for as long as I can. Spoiling you, laughing with you, fucking you, loving you. I want it all. Will you make me the happiest man alive -well not really alive but you get the gist- and marry me?" He says with a small, hopeful grin and you launch yourself at him, smothering him with kisses as you chant yes against his lips.

Max's responding grin is blinding as he crashes his mouth to yours before taking the ring from the box and slipping it on your finger, kissing it and each of your knuckles as you gaze at him giddily.

"I love you Max Phillips, you are the best present ever" You whisper, cupping his cheek with your ring hand and pulling him into a slow, heady kiss, smirking when he pulls your flush against his body and winks at you.

"Love you for all eternity sweetcheeks… Merry Christmas baby."