#chatty banana

[nicothedestroyer]

Morning affirmations

[ughgoaway]

every concert has atleast one person in a banana costume and i dont know why. been to three twenty one pilots shows and one hot mulligan. they were all banana’d -🪤

honestly, i love it, but I do wonder what it is in human brains to make us do this??? also the word "banana'd" is great and I will be using it in the forceeable future

[animefeminist]

Bonus Podcast (with Transcript) 2023 September: Our Shoujo Starter Pack

Hungry for more shoujo manga? We took a page out of @colleensmangarecs' book and put together our own "shoujo starter pack!"

[nevertheless-moving]

Gotta figure that at least 50% of those spidermans were very delibrately not putting their all into the big chase scene, bare minimum 10% actively sabotaging. like oh no we're on a train to the moon, guess we're stuck and can't go after him anymore.

Please.

Running in a pack, big crowd of the chattiest superheros to ever live (and theres a lot of chatty fucking superheroes), several dozen of them with front row seats to the big reveal-

"so why are we after this kid?" "He wants to stop one of his canon events" "his canon events?" "a canon event." "You mean-" "Wait what did she say, we're chasing this guy because he wants to keep his girlfriend from falling to her death?" "Uh. Not sure. Might be the childhood friend - watch your heads - turning evil thing." "I thought those were fixed points? Like you couldn't stop them no matter how much you time traveled back?" "There he is!" "Wait you have time travel?" "No but I heard the spider from earth 1116a-" "Wait if it's fixed then what's the harm in letting him try" "come on you know the multiverse-" "he's trying to keep his boyfriend from dying? Why the fuck are we chasing him?" "Well miguel said-" "you mean Grimdark angsty spiderman?" "Huh?" "No, not you, vampire - incoming, mind your legs - vampire grimdark angsty spiderman-" "oh, him. Isn't he a bit-" "I feel like the trying is what matters, i mean even if he fails-" "so he is a vampire!" "ummm yeah no hold up im not totally comfortable with this whole-" "who's trying to do what? Ooh, got line of sight on him, he's totally webbed in 3,2, AaAghh" "Oh shoot, haha I must have tripped on Spider-Banana-Man whoops, sorry -" "ugh whattever, lost the shot anyway" "Cant believe Spider-Rex boffed it like that, theyre usually great at ambush-" "I heard his uncle-" "No his dad-" "oof, thats-" "Wow is it just me or are we really tripping over each other today" "Hey do you know why we're chasing after this-"

[luveline]

PLS PLS PLS IM ON MY KNEES what about Remus with a sunshine reader? Like she comes around and is just so chatty and energetic and a much needed change of pace for our brooding quiet boy

Remus takes his earphones out the moment he sees you, but that's his secret alone. You barrel through the atrium to drape yourself over Sirius’ shoulder, meeting his smirk with a genuinely ecstatic smile before looking up at the others. “Hello, my favourite boys. Did you get dinner yet?” 

“No, babe, we were waiting for you. Sit down,” Sirius says. 

You beam and make directly for the chair next to Remus, though you could've sat with Sirius, or a little ways across next to the girls. “Hey,” you say, like he's the only boy you've ever wanted to speak with. James makes a knowing face behind your back. “What are you having?” 

“Remus doesn't believe in canteen food,” James says.  

“No kidding,” you say, still smiling, not even slightly put off by this nor Remus’ passive expression. It's not that he doesn't like you, the opposite, he just has a headache and he hates uni. You make it easier, a light in the dark. “What's not to like? Three quid for a slice of burnt pizza or five for a bowl of metallicy pasta. You couldn't get it any better.” 

“We'll go up to town,” Sirius suggests with a chuckle.  

“Let's order a pizza or something, they'll deliver in here, won't they?” James asks. 

You focus on Remus. “You don't like anything at all? The curry and chips is nice enough.” 

“It's not for me.” 

You nod appreciatively and let your tote bag fall from your shoulder into the crook of your arm. You rifle around and pull out a tupperware full of cut fruit, slices of banana, strawberries, blueberries, what looks like circles of pear. “We can eat this.” 

Remus could say no. He can't decide what's worse, saying yes or no, that is until you open the lid and put it between you both, offering to Sirius and James as well, and suddenly it isn't awkward at all, just something you've done. The pads of your fingers turn pink with strawberry juice as you tell him, “I was gonna put some tangerine in here but I keep getting super sour ones.” 

“They're out of season,” he says, fingers brushing yours as he takes a slice of banana. He swears, it zings. 

“I should know that. You know everything.” You leave a little strawberry print on the back of his hand, unnoticed, and he knows he's fucked when he lets it dry there in the shape of your finger. 

Somewhere between fruit slices and your chatter your chair grows closer to his, your knee pressed to knee without remorse, your elbow a whisper from his as you lean back in your chair. “So, bad day?” you ask. 

“What makes you think that?” 

You tap the space between your brows. He registers the gesture, nearly misunderstands, but eventually he relaxes the set of his brow and his tensed jaw. It's actually a relief. He hadn't realised he was doing it. 

“There,” you say, still smiling softly. “That's better. You'll get a headache, you know?” You sound genuinely worried. “It's not good to be so tense.” 

“Thank you,” he says. James and Sirius order a pizza on speaker across from you both, and, for fear you've missed it, he adds, “Thanks.” 

You needle into him with your elbow gently. “You're welcome. You're handsome when you smile.” 

“Not like you,” he says, “you're brilliant.” 

Your teeth peek out. His chest lifts, you look that happy, and when he smiles back it doesn't feel nearly as taxing as it usually does. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hurt IV

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Morsa gets hurt

You're sitting in the stands when it happens.

Momma's still not back in the squad so you're not sitting on the bench. You enjoy sitting on the bench more than sitting in the stands but at least you get to eat hotdogs in the stands so that's a win.

You're munching away when Morsa goes down. You stop chewing to stand up properly so you can see and you will Morsa to get back up.

She doesn't.

She just kind of rolls around on the ground clutching at her foot.

"What's wrong with Morsa?" You ask as if Momma would just know.

"It's okay," Momma says though her tight smile says she doesn't quite believe herself," Morsa's being a bit dramatic. She'll get back up, you'll see."

Only Morsa doesn't get back up.

She has to be helped off and you see a stretcher being prepared.

Momma takes your hand and walks you over to the barrier.

"Sam!" She calls out to Scottish Sam," Sam!"

Sam turns, getting up from the bench. She takes you as you're lifted over the barrier.

"Look after her, okay?" Momma hands her your bag. "I'll grab her in a bit."

"Go," Sam says," I've got her."

You're still in Sam's arms as you watch Momma sprint the opposite direction, to where Morsa's being loaded up onto a stretcher. She's crying and you kind of feel like crying too.

"Magda's strong," Sam says as she takes her seat back on the bench," She'll be okay."

"Morsa's crying," You reply bluntly," Don't lie. I'm not stupid."

Sam winces a little but you pay no attention because you stand up to see if you can catch a glimpse of Momma and Morsa. The stretcher is moving away now and they're holding hands.

You're glad that Morsa has Momma to look after her until you get there.

"Hey." Sam taps your leg. "Let's sit down, huh? You could fall."

You grunt in frustration but do as she says. You've no interest in the match anymore and grow a bit restless. You keep turning your head around, hoping to see Momma and Morsa returning but they never do.

Sam rummages through your bag to find something to entertain you.

"What is this?" She asks," A fancy straw? It's kind of big."

"That's my epipen," You say and Sam immediately drops it into your bag like it's burned her," Because Australian Sam gave me bad kiwi and I almost died. Momma makes sure I always have it."

Scottish Sam laughs uncomfortably. "Well...I'll make sure not to give you kiwi then."

"Or banana or avocado because those can kill me too." You think for a moment as your stomach rolls. "Is my Morsa dying?" Your bottom lip trembles. "Is that why she's not back yet?"

"No!" Sam says quickly, shaking her head firmly," She's just talking to the medics. They're very chatty. That's why they're taking so long."

You accept that Morsa's not dying but not really that the medics are chatty. You keep looking behind you all the way up until halftime.

Sam takes you back to the changing room but you dig your heels in all the way because you don't want Momma and Morsa to go back onto the pitch and not know where you've gone.

This whole situation is very worrying and you sullenly take refuge in Morsa's cubby because it's nice and small and smells just like her.

"Lea?" You ask as the woman mooches around nearby," When are my mummies coming back?"

She winces a little. "Sorry, kid," She says," I'm not too sure. Soon, though. It'll be soon."

You sigh a big sigh and huff, reaching out for Lea's hand as she gets ready to go back out. "Is my Morsa going to be okay?"

She winces again and pats you on the head. "She'll be just fine. She'll be back on her feet very soon."

In the second half, Sam has to go on so she hands you straight over to Sarah who has the unenviable job of watching you have a complete and utter breakdown.

You've decided that it's been too long, that Momma and Morsa have been away too long for Morsa to be just fine like the girls are telling you. You curl up into a little ball in your seat and sob.

Sarah looks like she's about to cry too as she wildly looks to the other girls on the bench for help before deciding that the best thing to do would be to pick you up.

It's pretty hard on her part because you won't uncurl from your protective ball and she kind of has to pace around with a little girl whose not willing to give her even an inch of help in it.

"Hey."

You stop crying when you hear Momma speak.

She's standing by the barrier.

"I can take her now," Momma says to Sarah," I'll take her back to see Magda."

"It's fine," Sarah lies," We've got everything under control."

"I'll take her," Momma insists," Magda's been asking for her."

"Oh, thank god," Sarah breathes out before holding you out for Momma to take along with your bag.

"Is Morsa okay?" You sniffle as Momma begins to walk back to where she disappeared too.

"She will be," Momma says," She's a little sad right now and she needs some Princesse cuddles to make her feel better. And I think some Morsa cuddles will make you feel better too."

You nod.

Morsa's still sitting on the stretcher when you arrive. She's not crying anymore but you can see where the tears use to be.

Momma settles you by Morsa's side and you look down to see her bandaged foot.

"What happened?"

"I hurt my foot," Morsa says. She crowds you into her space with a hand between your shoulders, allowing you to curl up properly against her as she rests her chin on the top of your head.

"Is it really bad?"

"I have to have surgery soon," Morsa says," But it'll be very quick."

You think for a moment before nodding, making sure to hug Morsa nice and tight so she knows that you're here for her.

"It'll be okay," You say," Because me and Momma are going to look after you."

[yuwuta]

I want to write an essay to that last yuuji ask on GOD but one I'm not good with words and two I can not think straight rn cause I swear I could picture it all crystal clear like l... I want to say a thousand times the word like cause I'm so speechless rn... I'm almost crying you have no idea he makes me want to turn into a beast and devour him!! He totally is chatty during sex thats actually canon and and I feel my throat dry rn.... The creampie part I will stop now cause that's too much for me to handle right this second but just know that you my friend are the biggest brained person ever. Don't you just wish you could ruin him?

yeah :// he’s too good to be true, the strong urge to choke him just to make him red in the face but knowing that it probably doesn’t even hurt him or phase him because he’s freakishly strong like that… god… 

yk that tweet that’s like “fucking in missionary so we can keep arguing during it>” that’s yuuji, but you’re not arguing, he’s just yapping fr. and it’s so…. him because, yeah, part of it is dirty talk, and he can’t help but to spill everything on his mind when he’s inside of you, but also a lot of it is memories of you. he’ll literally be fucking you within an inch of your life and find time to go, “hey, babe—fuck—remember, ah, remember megumi’s birthday dinner last year? that dress you wore… you looked so fucken pretty?” “did you buy this necklace at the same place nobara got—shit—got her new ring from? it looks—looks real good on you, you know?” “we should go get dessert after, i know how much you like the banana bread from that one cafe. and you’re so pretty when you’re happy.” and it’s so insane because why can’t he shut up, but kinda sweet bc you get this glimmer into yuuji’s mind, how he sees you, how he all his memories of you seem to be skewed for him to believe you’re perfect, perfect, perfect, and something about having his dick inside of you and you looking him in the eye while he’s fucking you seems to invoke those feelings… loverboy :( 

but when he’s not chatting about you, he’s chatting about the things he wants to do to you. he’s pretty about open sex, but you always find that some things seem to slip out when he’s on the brink of orgasm, something about almost being over the edge releases all his inhibitions, he can’t stop himself from mumbling about how much he wishes he could cum inside of you, how he kinda wants to choke you bc he thinks you’d pretty with his hand around your neck, how he wants to mark you and make you his forever… and he never brings it up after… honestly sometimes you think you’re imagining it yourself, stuck in your post-orgasm haze, but you swear yuuji mentioned something about how your his but he’d share you with megumi if he asked..

[thirstforsalt]

hello salt i have a question cuz i am OBSESSED w the behaviour and dynamic of fandom spaces (autism presents itself in weird ways)

would u say the house fandom is super different now as opposed to when it was releasing? ive seen u mention fanfics which is no surprise since fanfic is kinda eternal. but what were the chatty, casual places like? any weird drama or something? OH MY GOD WERE PEOPLE MISOGYNISTIC TOWARD CUDDY FOR "GETTING IN THE WAY" OF HILSON??

looking forward to hearing :3

Yes! People weren’t great about cuddy or Cameron tbh. The chatty places iirc were horrible livejournal communities like “capslock house” and the forums at Television Without Pity. It’s so weird to think back 15+ years but people were active on like, entertainment weekly’s comments section. There was a guy who wrote at EW called Michael Ausiello who really fanned the fandom ship wars. Maureen Ryan was a tv critic who was also all in on fandom stuff. Doris Egan, who wrote on most seasons of House, had a LJ where she talked about bts stuff and her love of RSL. Does any other fandom elder want to talk about 2000s House fandom??

I love this question because I love fandom behavior, too, and fandom history. And this is definitely one of the first times I can absolutely report on how it was!

Edited to add Doris Egan's LJ link. It's BANANAS.

[thehollowwriter]

I thought this would be smt fun to post the night before Silas' birthday XD. Blame @the-trinket-witch who was inspired by my Finn shitpost/j

Silas Clearcove x Reader HCs

•Firstly you're going to have to be at least 40 because Silas views young adults as kids, and the idea of dating them is out of the question

•You'll need to have tough skin because Silas is blunt and to the point. He's not purposefully cruel or mean, but he doesn't see the point in tip toeing around things and trying to soften the blow

•Don't be clingy. He's busy, so you won't see him as often as you may like, and he's not very talkative either. He won't ignore you, of course, but he's a man of few words, and if you're chatty, you'll have to carry most of the conversation.

•Don't think he's ignoring you, though. He listens carefully to every word you say and is genuinely interested in what you have to say, even if it's as mundane as accidentally dropping your toothbrush while brushing your teeth or something

•Finn has to like you. It's like a major requirement. Not only has he sat through enough drama in relation to stepparents with Morrigan's family to last a lifetime, but he's simply not going to make Finn go through that

•So yeah, he makes it quite clear that you're second to Finn priority wise and be does not sugar coat it

•Other than that, your gender, species, etc doesn't matter at all to him

•It's impossible to tell if he's interested in you romantically because he acts the exact same as he usually does unless you initiate some form of flirting first, and if he catches on his flirting is a bit weird

•He's pretty to the point, just like Finn, except all he does is give you a courting gift, and if you aren't merfolk, he probably forgets you don't know what that means lmao. But he will clarify after he realises you don't get it

•Silas isn't lovey dovey in the conventional sense, but he loves deeply and fiercely and holds you in high regard

•He's protective and will absolutely kill for you, no questions asked. As long as you're safe, he's happy.

•He gives you things he's found or made that he thinks are interesting or useful, usually weapons

•You will be given lots of food and you will eat it. Nah, he'll just eat it if you don't want it

•This man does not believe in wasting anything, and if there's something you don't want to use anymore, he'll probably find some kind of use for it. There are very few things he can't reuse

•Doesn't mind getting into tussles with you at all and would be quite delighted if you are willing to

•He's paranoid, though he hides it well and frequently checks up on you to make sure you're aliv- *ahem* doing ok

•His toxic trait is that he will compare you to Morrigan internally. He doesn't do it on purpose, but it's a bad habit

•He doesn't take off Morrigan's courting gift either and that might cause some... issues if you have a problem with that

•You'll have to be chill with a lot of things because Silas is by no means morally ok and he does a lot of fucked up shit

•Silas is very loyal and supportive and if there's something you want to achieve he'll help to the best of his ability

•He takes immense interest in your culture and home and will pester you with questions about it

* * *

This started as a joke what happened 😭

Tags:

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind

[makethatelevenrings]

Somewhere Only We Know - TWO

Chapter Warnings: spoilers for 2x02, swearing but that’s part of the show idk why you would be surprised by that

shoutout to @yanna-banana​ for showing me this Instagram dupe site so I can make this a bit more ~interactive~ since reader is, y’know, a social media manager. also thanks for ur patience my lovelies, i’m having “ahhhh im graduating” depressive states and all my energy is going towards finals and existing rn.

Series Masterlist

“Okay. Laptop. Charger. Keys. Coffee. Shoes. Shoes!”

For some reason, you were a mess this morning. You had been repeating your list of things you needed over and over again and yet every time you kept discovering something else you had forgotten. Your bag lay half-packed on the couch as you ran around like a chicken with its head cut off in pursuit of your shoes. Seriously, how the fuck did you lose the shoes you had grabbed from your closet just a minute ago?

That’s because they were in your hands.

Sighing, you pulled on the sensible flats and took another moment to look around your room and list out all the things you needed for work today. The TV played in a lone drone behind you and you turned your head to see This Morning playing. Philip and Holly were interviewing some guy from that one reality show.

“What about Amy? Are you going to wait for her?” Holly asked.

“Nah, no. I was just playing a game, know what I mean?” the guy replied. Christ, was that Jamie Tartt? It was, wasn’t it. “Find the fittest girl there, have sex with her in the toilet, ask her to marry you. Strategy.”

“Wow,” you drawled before you shut off the TV. “He’s a piece of shit.”

You headed for the door and quickly backtracked. You almost forgot your entire bag and the leftovers from the shoot you had last night. Ugh, you needed more coffee.

~~~

You were scrolling through TikTok in search of a new trend to use for a Richmond video when all five foot two inches of your boss came bursting into your office.

“Oh, sorry! I should have knocked. Get your bag, babes, we’re going to lunch,” she exclaimed. “There’s this cafe that’s a ten minute walk from here and they’ve got the best coffee.”

You knew better than to argue with the pure ball of energy that was Keeley Jones. In the short time you’ve known her, you loved the beaming blonde. She and Rebecca were infectious in their laughter, light, and kindness. When you first interviewed, you were intimidated by the two women, but you quickly learned that they were goofy as hell and always down to gossip.

Grabbing your purse, you dutifully followed Keeley through the maze of hallways. She passed the locker room without a second glance, but you made sure to peek over your shoulder to see a few of the guys streaming out of the doors.

“Yo, Keeley!” someone called. She spun around and waved at whoever yelled and then grabbed your hand, pulling you over to talk to a few of the guys.

“Hi Isaac! Have you met our new social media manager yet? She’s gonna be the one making you all look sexy on the Gram now,” she announced. You offered them a tentative smile and the large man in front of you beamed.

“Isaac McAdoo,” he introduced. You gave him your name in turn and then cleared your throat. You weren’t as charismatic or bubbly as Keeley, but you were trying to make more of an effort. Your last job was filled with a few passive aggressive comments thrown over cubicle walls and then bossa nova jazz everyday. No one had been chatty or nice the way everyone was at Richmond.

“I’ve actually been meaning to set up meetings with all the players,” you explained. “My job is to handle the team’s socials, but I also want to integrate the players' ideas and individual brands. I’d also like to know if anyone is working with a management team so I can coordinate with them on certain posts.”

“Isn’t she fucking brilliant?” Keeley exclaimed.

Isaac puffed out his chest and flexed his biceps. “As long as you make us look good, then I’m in.”

Keeley patted you on the shoulder. “We should get going to lunch, but check your email soon. I’ll make sure we can coordinate times to meet.”

“Awesome. Nice to meet you!” He darted off to go talk to someone else and Keeley slid her arm into the crook of yours so she could lead you out of the building and down the road.

“Isaac’s all bark and no bite unless you’re on the field,” she explained. “Sam is an absolute sweetie and Colin is darling. Richard is my go-to when I need to know a wine pairing and Zoreaux is a beast at Dance Dance Revolution. Bumbercatch is…”

Keeley listed off all the players on the team and you tried to keep a mental catalog of everything she said, but it was making your head spin. You were grateful once she stopped outside a small cafe that was indeed a short walk from Nelson Road. A simple vanilla latte and a chicken cobb salad was your order while Keeley got a complicated drink and a wrap.

The owner, Alex, handed the two of you your drinks and you turned with the intention of finding a table to wait for the food when Keeley stopped short. Some guy stood half-obscured by the plant shelves, but he stepped out once he realized he caught Keeley’s attention.

“Jamie?!” she exclaimed.

“I-I’m not stalking ya,” he blurted out. “I’ve been following you for, like, a few blocks now and I couldn’t text ya because I deleted your number.”

As he rambled on, his words started to fade in and out as you took him in. His slicked back hair made him look like a corny Godfather character and the all black ensemble didn’t help. You could understand why people fawned over him with that strong jaw and blue eyes, but as his lips moved all you could hear was his smarmy talk from the show this morning. 

“So, yeah, I’ve been following you for the last few blocks. No, I’m lying. I’ve been following you for your whole lunch hour. But I’ve just been trying to build up the courage to say hi…so…hi.” His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

“That’s, like, the definition of stalking,” you murmured which drew his attention to you. Jamie Tartt was starting to feel like a bad omen that was following you around.

“Hi, sorry. Jamie Tartt.” He offered you a cocky smile that you recognized from the TV that morning and you merely glanced down at his outstretched hand. You had no idea where that hand had been. Raising a single eyebrow, you let your gaze trail up from his hand to his face.

“I’ll go find us a table,” you said to Keeley before you brushed past him and found an empty table by the window. You always loved sitting by the window and watching the world pass by. You could make up stories about the people that passed by. Like the lady walking two poodles. Maybe she was some CEO or maybe she was an undercover agent. That would be sick as hell.

“Sorry about that, babe,” Keeley apologized. She placed your salad in front of you and then took the seat across from you. “Now, I just want to say that your idea about meeting all the players? Brilliant. Absolutely fucking brilliant. When we get back to the office, we can set up a calendar for everyone to schedule a time to meet with you. How’s that sound?”

“That’s great. I really love working here.” You looked towards the door where Jamie Tartt was heading out of, a coffee clutched in his hand. He glanced back at the table you were sitting at and you immediately looked away and back at Keeley. You offered her a tight smile and nodded along to whatever she was saying.

Hopefully that was the last time you would ever see Jamie Tartt.

Tag List: @shiptheship​

[ughgoaway]

Hey friend how are you??

I just wanted to say something about the show anxiety, because I also get really bad anxiety in busy crowded public places but something that really helped me is remembering other times that I've been to shows and thinking "do I remember anyone who was there/what they were wearing" and the answer is usually no. Everyone is there to see the boys and all eyes will be on the stage!

Anyway I hope you have the best time at your shows 😁

🎄

hi my love! I am okay, feeling pretty burnt out with life, but I've got things to look forward to, so I'm continuing to exist for now!!!

honestly that is such good advice because you're so right. never once have I remembered what someone looked like at a concert, apart from one time I saw someone in a banana costume, but I think he was an outlier...

I'm sure i will have an amazing time and I can't wait to see the boys live!!!

[dieinct]

when i was doing north american arch at one point i dug on a site that needed indigenous observers (normal). and one of them was a guy maybe our age who had BIG surfer dude energy (hair. vibes. etc.) and was generally personable and chatty with us. and he saw me and my dig friend from that dig sharing an absolutely vile banana flavored pack of cigarettes her mom had sent her from china (in the barn) (not next to the dig site) (obviously) (also it was raining) (sifting mud) (my point is we deserved an experimental dogshit cigarette)

and he was like. "guys. if you're ever smoking closer to a dig site? you should really smoke american spirits. they're made with way fewer preservatives so they biodegrade way easier and won't interfere with a site as much as most of the other brands!"

i think maybe he also said something about the extent to which the ash might interfere with archaeobotanical analysis but i don't remember for sure. because "these cigarettes are better for professional smokers" was the funniest advice i had EVER been given.

anyway now whenever i need to buy an emergency pack of cigarettes in the states (approximately every other year) i buy american spirits bc it's the only brand of cigarettes i can ever remember exists when the gas station attendant asks me what kind i want. and here's the other thing i always forget: they are fucking VILE

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 25

Campfire or left in the cold

Since Dethklok were already canonically abandoned in the snow, I decided to go for campfire today. For some reason, I couldn’t stop picturing Nathan and Skwisgaar at the campfire so that’s what you’re getting! They’re one of my favorite Dethklok relationships after all :)

“Okeys, starts askings de questionks, go, go go!” Skwisgaar rubbed his hands in expectation. 

“Okay, okay…” Nathan narrowed his eyes at his phone screen. “If you could be an animal, what would you be?”

Skwisgaar replied instantly. “A dragons, you!”

“Maybe like Godzilla or something…” Nathan said, in deep thought. “Godzilla is fucking brutal.” He returned his eyes to the screen. “What has made you laugh until you cried?”

“Whens…” Skwisgaar was already giggling at the memory. “Whens Moidaface tripped with dogs shit, den a bananas, then his hair caught fires, then brokes his nose...when he diveds in a pools.” He shut his eyes, body shaking from laughter.

Nathan chuckled. “That was fucking awesome. I guess that’s mine too.” He stared at the screen again. “Favorite TV Show?”

Some hours ago, Skwisgaar had suggested to Nathan to get fucking plastered, a suggestion Nathan would never turn down. They decided to get booze without the Klokateers and, on their way back from the store, they got lost in the woods.

Luckily, they had found a small campfire that Charles had set all across the place in case any Dethklok member would ever get lost, they could be safe and warm. Charles had told them to stay there and wait to be picked up. And while they waited, well…that booze wasn’t going to drink itself. 

Skwisgaar especially was giving Nathan a fight for his money with that bottle of rum, which was impressive considering Nathan was the one that got a liver transplant due to this extreme alcohol consumption. 

While neither of them was normally too talkative, alcohol made them more chatty. Thus, they were now playing the 20 questions game with each other. 

“Uhh….a fact about the last person you kissed…” Nathan asked reluctantly, like he wasn’t sure he was reading it right. 

“He ams a stupid dildos.” Skwisgaar answered way too fast. 

Nathan blinked. “He?”

“She,” Skwisgaar belatedly corrected. “She ams…stupids…” He frowned at the fire and took another gulp of rum. 

Nathan thought it was weird that Skwisgaar seemed bitter, he didn’t seem like the type to even remember his partners. Not that he cared. “Mine had huge boobs and was super hot. Next question…most traumatic exper-let’s skip that. What’s the last text you received?” 

Wordlessly, Skwisgaar pulled up his phone and opened the messaging app. He raised both eyebrows for a second before his expression turned neutral again. “You ams a colds unfeelingks monsters.” He read, impassively. 

“Woah.” Nathan chuckled. “That’s brutal. Who sent that?”

“Toki.” Skwisgaar said before tucking his phone back in his pocket. 

“Oh.” That was considerably less brutal. “Did you guys fight?”

“He ams just being a big babies as usualsk.” Skwisgaar rested his face on his hand, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Right…” Nathan scrolled down his own messages. “The last message I got was from Charles saying we needed to stay put, so…” He opened the image again and cleared his throat. “Last awkward situation you found yourself in?”

Skwisgaar snorted. “When Pickle walkeds into me and Toki-” His half-lidded gaze suddenly turned wide-eyed. “P-Playings wif our swords- I means guitars! We were playingks wif our guitars!”

Nathan wasn’t sure if he had drank too much and was starting to hallucinate things but something was starting to be really odd about Skwisgaar’s answers. If anything, this was currently his most awkward situation. “Okay, let’s move on…have you met the person you fell hardest for?”

“Noes!” Skwisgaar yelled. “Noes, I hasn’ts! I don’ts do dat! I don’ts falls for peoples evors!” As if to emphasize this, he took a pretty long swig of his bottle and finished it.

Yeah, he was going to ignore that too. He was definitely going to ignore it. “Yeah, that’s a no for me too…” He mumbled to himself before moving to the next question. “What’s a secret you haven’t told anyo-”

“Nethans, ams you questioningks me?” Skwisgaar stood up and gave him an accusing glare. 

“What?” Nathan grimaced. “No? What the fuck are you talking about, I’m just reading these stupid questions!” He looked back at his phone. “Next question says: talk about your ex.”

“I don’ts has an ex!” Skwisgaar exclaimed in frustration.

“That’s what the game says!” Nathan replied, just as frustrated.

Puffing, Skwisgaar sat back down on the tree trunk. The crackling of fire filled the silence between them. “Sorries.” He said after a while.

Nathan stared at him with vague, intoxicated concern. “Are you okay?” 

“Ams dat a games questionks?” Skwisgaar said, gaze half-lidded again. 

“Uh…” Nathan glanced at his phone. “Yeah.”

Skwisgaar kept his eyes on the fire, lip quivering. “Noes…” He let out quietly.

Nathan pretended to read from the image on his phone. “Why…are you not…okay?”

Skwisgaar sighed, covering his face with his hands. “I thoughts I didn’t cares about somethings…but I does…and it sucks.”

He might have had too much to drink, because it was making him sad to see Skwisgaar so dejected. “What happened?” After a pause, he added. “That’s also a question here.”

His friend chuckled. “I…has an argskuments with somebodies….” He lowered his hands, frustrated at himself. “I knows! Soes fucking stupids. Ams I a goil? Pfft.”

Nathan waited and waited, but when Skwisgaar didn’t say anything else, he insisted. “And?”

“Ands…” Skwisgaar blinked slowly at the fire, like he couldn’t comprehend what he was feeling. “Ands I misses dat idiots.”

“So, go and tell that person that.”

Skwisgaar winced. “I can’ts.” 

“Uh, why?”

“He-she wants somethings whats I cant’s give hims…I means her.” Skwisgaar mumbled and buried his face in his legs.

In turn, Nathan took several gulps of his whiskey bottle, because he really was going to need it to listen to Skwisgaar’s half-baked confession. He exhaled loudly, the alcohol burning his insides. “And what is that?”

Skwisgaar didn’t move for several seconds. “Loves.” He finally said, voice muffled.

Seriously? That was it? Love?! Nathan squinted at Skwisgaar in disbelief. “The way I see it, you don’t seem to be having problems with that.”

Confused, Skwisgaar raised his head. “...What you means?”

Nathan stared into Skwisgaar’s eyes, a bit exasperated to have to spell it out for him. He was never the best with words, but Skwisgaar was even worse. “Egh, I mean that what I’m hearing is that you……love this person, Skwisgaar. Your problem is that you don’t want to admit it.” He drank more whiskey. “That’s it.”

Skwisgaar looked at him like he had invented the atomic bomb, or something. “I alreadies…?”

Nathan saw a bush move and he stood up instinctively before recognizing the Klokateer uniform. Oh, right, they were waiting to be picked up. 

“Sir!” The Klokateer waved his hand, and another one came running behind. “Where’s-”

“He’s right here.” Nathan pointed at Skwisgaar, who still seemed to be in a state of semi-shock. “Hey, Skwisgaar,” He nudged his shoulder. “They came to get us.”

Skwisgaar didn't react.

Very quickly, the Klokateers reached them, covering them in blankets and giving them hot chocolate. A monitoring Charles spoke with them on the phone. The Klokateers said something about wolves and bears being in the area, though Nathan didn’t really listen, instead focusing on putting some whiskey on the beverage before drinking it. That was really good.

On the way back to Mordhaus, Skwisgaar didn’t say a word, just held the chocolate awkwardly, some drops spilling on his blanket but he didn’t seem to care. When they finally arrived to their house, though, Toki was waiting at the entrance, an anxiety-riddled expression on his face.

“Nethans,” He said, mildly relieved, though his eyes were still searching. “Where’s- Oh!” He ran to Skwisgaar, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. It was nothing out of the regular, really, Toki had always gravitated more towards Skwisgaar out of all Dethklok members.

After the conversation he had with Skwisgaar, however, Nathan couldn’t help but feel like there was something different. As Toki said unintelligible things to Skwisgaar, the latter gazed at Nathan. He hadn’t quite recovered from everything but he nodded at Nathan.

Nathan nodded back at him before he went back to his room to rest. It wasn’t until he had laid on his bed that he realized he was smiling.

Skwisgaar never said thanks outloud. 

[ourolite2]

ᨳິ petites idées!　　sfw & suggestive black chongyun.　reader gender unspecified, slight physical teasing. also, bahamian slang was used which i hope was applied properly bcs i am not bahamian LMAO. please do correct any with accuracy if i'm wrong! ༄

•　 chongyun is from the CARIBBEAN. he is BAHAMIAN. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! therefore i'm certain he knows variations of creole spoken in the bahamas, such as bahamian creole and haitian creole. however, his accent and his usage of the language grow in prominence when he code switches specifically. otherwise, his accent is subtle and only heightens when excited or uses an expression. nigga stepped back in surprise and went "mudda sick!"

•　 side note, chongyun also prefers oils like peppermint and eucalyptus because of their heat-defying properties. get too close and you’ll have a breath of fresh air from anywhere above his neck with the slightest whiff. i’d argue that this adds onto his natural scent and repels demonic energy from him, making his duties as an exorcist nothing but effortless.

•　 this is not only my theory but neso’s as well, that high temperatures of weather provoke unbridled frustration, while a high degree in spice provokes his code switch into a more slang-embedded and chatty persona, regardless of the emotion with this linguistic swap. high temperatures in the aspect of becoming overly flustered or anxious would result in stereotypical lightskin ass behavior. symptoms include smooth and failed rizz, leaning against a nearby wall, nodding upward in a 'sup' motion with a sweet smile, and other laughter-bellyache inducing antics.

•　 under the same subject, arousal can also cause certain emotions since.. other parts would become more heated than anticipated. this does not result in smooth behavior, but rather improper use of slang and a few mumbles of "goddamn" or "gyat" to himself. he is not smooth, he's adorable! uh-- well... unless it's hot outside while such occurs. then he'd come off more embarrassed with an attitude due to his ineptness to hold eye contact, in addition to how much he's stuttering and fidgeting in your presence. hm... this is still pretty cute tho, isn't it?

•　 y'know, there's so much black cuisine beyond soul food, but to start off with such chongyun's favorite sides would be potato salad, banana pudding, and deviled eggs because they're delectably served cold of course. as for other types of black cuisine, specifically bahamian or just caribbean, he likes conch salad, johnny cake with some vanilla icecream, crab rice served at room temperature, and despite his sensitivity to heat, chongyun can certainly exalt freshly made plantain fufu with various kinds of soups. also, if his environment is colder his emotions are less chirpy, allowing him to prefer being more composed and chill (pun intended), therefore warmer foods become considerably more tolerable for his yang energy to handle.

•　 you uh.. you guys know how he has those calming herbs in his popsicles for his yang energy? well.... what if he smoked those herbs to calm down? y'know how he doesn't come off aggressively and he's a chill sweetie? well.. imagine he's miffed and just reaches for one of his joints...

•　 okay, okay. let me close off by saying i looooove the pretty blue theme for chongyun's character, especially in his natural features, meaning his hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. his clothes matching is just a perfect plus. he'd have three strand twists done in his hair as his day-to-day style as well as his favorite style. the contrast of light blue to his gingerbread cheeks and tawny forehead is so eye-catching, radiating soft, approachable energy. assuming xinqiu is also black here, he definitely re-twists chongyun's hair for him sometimes; this is because doing it himself can make chongyun too hot, since wash days are a workout and a half. he'll have to constantly take a popsicle break til' he runs himself dry. if not xinqiu, however, y/n can lend a comb and a few hours, right?

꒰꒰　　Fifteen minutes after washing and conditioning the lapis exorcist's head of hair, Y/n was confined to numbing their body by sitting in the same position as they moisturized his detangled spirals and corkscrew curls from the ends up. T'was doubtless that the young man was unfazed and emotionally pacified by the massage of cold-pressed cream and peppermint oil to his scalp and ends. Chongyun sighed in delight behind closed, mocha lips, ever appreciative to have someone so amply amiable to assist him with this monthly test of his sanity. "Dunno how I'd do this without you, Y/n. I admire your skill and precision, ‘cause Lapis knows I physically can't fuc-.. can't function..."

Y/n peered from behind him with a velvet grin, taking pride in being so adored for their charitableness. Even so, they were rather rushed and absentminded in their pursuit to deliver succor before Chongyun blew a fuse on his own, so they had no medicinal popsicles on hand to subdue his yang energy's lingering emotional outburst.

Thus, Y/n hummed patiently in response to his subtle agitation layered in clouds of gratitude. "Hmm? No, no, your skill and precision out-rival mine in many things, baby blue. You're an exceptional exorcist for one, aren't you?"

Y/n's words were warmhearted enough, in fact, to cause a drought upon any venom brooding beneath his furrowed expression. Continuing massaging his scalp with the eucalyptus now coating their fingertips earned them another exhale of relief from the miffed munchkin. Alas, this relief was faulty and short-lived, unlike the addictively euphonious voice beginning to toy with his muddled mind.

Y/n leaned further down so that their chest was pressed to the back of Chongyun's head, followed by tilting his head back enough to face them. They endowed a silken kiss to his now ever-more baked forehead, leaving one hand to caress the front of his neck and the other to hold onto his lower cheek and chin. With how his eyes could only widen in a failed quip, his plump lips parting and spreading into a naturally flustered smile, you'd think he must feel heavenly against Y/n's spread thighs. However, the opposite was evident, as his body's temperature began to rise and only increased with Y/n's giggles in response to his adorable reaction.

'Poor cute little thing.' Y/n mused, with their widened lips stuck in that gorgeous upturned setting. Their hand placement was all the more amusing (to them at least) as Chongyun breathed out an incoherent 'damn' under their touch, denying himself any further vulgarities as they continued kneading their fingers onto him and trailing their nails across his sensitive skin, goosebumps present and halfway-completed hair neglected.

"Don't start with your failed, flirty antics on me either, baby blue.. Just enjoy me like this, I'll fix your head momentarily."　　꒱꒱

⑅ leman productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.

[peterhollandkait]

I’m unbelievably bored right now 😫

Your post about asks brought me back to life (I’m eating skittles in my bed , dissociating from the world)

I feel like I could use a little fluffy Drabble. I miss summer so bad (we are having another snowstorm here tomorrow) , maybe you could write something around swimming and sunbathing with any of Pedro’s boys … hahaha

Sorry that’s the most unclear ask ever

I hope it’s okay that I wrote this for my children, Frankie and Sunny!! Sunny is the MC of my incoming Frankie fic “Everything I Know Leads Me Back To You” and I think you’re going to love her.

The Sun and Her Fish: A Frankie and Sunny Drabble

Frankie Morales x fem!reader/oc

Once in a blue moon, your apartment complex's pool would be free of swimmers and chatty neighbors. Today was one of those days. When you noticed the bare pool deck outside your window, you woke Frankie immediately, tossing his swim trunks at his face while you pulled on a bathing suit in your bathroom.

Frankie watched from his spot on the bed as you roamed about the room and apartment, putting together a tote with towels, sunscreen, your sunglasses, and various snacks. You had taken care of him the night previous, lulling him back to sleep from a particularly nasty nightmare with your cuddles and loving embrace (as well as his favorite lavender lotion). He felt terrible about waking you up, even though you always insisted it was no big deal, so he was thankful that you would be able to have some quiet time at the pool to lounge around after everything you've done for him.

"C'mon Morales," you teased. "Trunks on, let's go!" You gave him one last look before you grabbed your bag and made your way to the other side of the apartment.

When you reached the kitchen, you snuck a couple beer bottles into the bag even though the complex had a strict no-alcohol rule at the pool deck. You were willing to break the rules for Frankie though, and you knew he would appreciate it when he found them in your bag later.

Frankie appeared in the hallway as you pulled on your sandals, smiling at you. "Ready for the sunshine, mi girasol?"

You grinned back at him, tugging the bag over your shoulder. "You bet I am, mi amor."

Frankie chuckled and slipped on his beat up sandals before he followed you out the door and down to the poolside.

"How long do you think it'll take for the pool to fill up once everyone realizes it's empty?" You inquired, turning to look at your best friend as you walked.

"Hopefully we'll get a couple hours," he replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"You're going to get in the pool, right? It'll be good for you." You pulled away briefly to unlock the gate, stepping inside to let him through.

"I dunno..." Frankie hesitated. "I don't think so. I'd rather sit and relax, mi amor."

-

"Frankie, c'mon," you whined, leaning against the concrete from inside the pool.

"Hermosa," he shook his head, chuckling at you. "I don't want to get in the pool. It's nice up here in the shade."

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up and out of the pool. "Francisco, I swear to god. Get your ass in the pool, soldier!” You huffed, hands falling to your hips as you scowled at him.

When he didn’t move, you stomped over to him like a child, grabbing for his hands to pull him up and out of the lounge chair. But Frankie had other ideas. He tugged you toward him, causing you to lose your footing and fall into his lap with an “oof.” He wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you closer as he chuckled.

“You play dirty,” you mumbled into his skin, head rested in the crook between his shoulder and neck. You took in the scent of him, banana boat sunscreen with a hint of his woodsy cologne underneath.

“Sit with me a little, then I promise I’ll get in, girasol.” His right hand rubbed circles into the skin above your swimsuit bottoms, making you hum softly.

“Okay,” you agreed, reaching for your phone on the table next to the lounge chair. “What should we do for dinner tonight?”

“We could go over to my mom’s and grill out. She keeps asking to see you.”

“That is a great idea. Make sure abuelita is there too, of course.”

Frankie chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I swear, you’re only friends with me for my abuela.”

You giggled, your lips dangerously close to the most sensitive spot on his neck. “Damn, you figured me out. I’m playing the long game here.”

He laughed then, shaking his head. God, he didn’t deserve you.

Frankie didn’t say anything for awhile, but his hands never stopped moving on your back. You enjoyed the quiet, settled in the arms of your love. You laid there contently, listening to his heartbeat, thoughts silenced in your relaxed state.

After almost a half an hour, you decided it had been long enough in the shade and itched to get back into the water. You sat up in his lap, reaching for the open beer bottle on the side table and taking a swig. “Time to go, mi amor.”

“More sunscreen first, I don’t want to hear you complaining later about a sunburn and how the bed is too hot.”

You scoffed, watching as he grabbed the sunscreen tube to reapply the lotion to your back. “It was one time!”

“Mhm, and I’m the king of England.” You rolled your eyes at him, a smile forming on your lips. He was right of course, you did tend to be a little irresponsible with the sunscreen.

He placed his hands on your back, the cold lotion making you jump slightly the feeling. “Sorry,” he whispered, spreading the white liquid across your skin as quickly as he could.

“‘S okay,” you replied, resisting the urge to moan at his touch. Frankie had a way with his hands, caressing your skin gently as he worked. He rubbed into your muscles as if he was giving you a massage. It was almost, sensual.

Frankie, on the other hand, was trying so desperately not to get a hard-on as he touched you. He heard your little whimpers, felt the way your body was responding to his touch. It was almost too much.

When he finished, his hands retreated almost too quickly, disappointing you. You turned back to face him, your hands settled on your hips. “Ready?”

He nodded, taking a final swig of his beer before helping you up and following you over to the edge of the pool. You grabbed the hat on his head, tossing it back to the lounge chair. “Wouldn’t want to get that wet, would we?”

“Honestly, I forget I’m wearing it sometimes. Thank you.”

You smiled, pulling on his arm as you led him down the stairs and into the water. “Should we do laps like when we were kids?” You sank lower into the water as you spoke, tugging him towards you.

“Honey, that sounds exhausting.” You laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle. “I’m serious! There is nothing I would rather do less than fucking laps.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You leaned into his touch, humming softly. “What shall we do?”

“Do adults have to do anything in the pool? Can’t we stand here and savor the cool water and quiet atmosphere?” He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nope. We did that on the lounge chair mister. What about Marco/Polo?” You rested your chin on his chest, looking up at him with your soft eyes.

You were so close, he could just lean down a few inches and kiss you. It would be so easy. He glanced at your lips, the decision weighing on him.

“Frankie?” You said, pulling him back into reality.

“Yeah, uh. Yes, that’s fine. Do…do you want to go first?”

The two of you played for what felt like hours, chasing each other around the pool from one end to the other. Every time he caught you, you squealed loudly, squirming in his arms.

It reminded you of your childhood, when the two of you, along with Santiago, would hang out in your grandma’s pool all summer, seeing who could do the most laps, win the most rounds of Marco/Polo, or who could hold their breath the longest.

Times were simpler then.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Frankie come up behind you in the water, making you scream as he grabbed you. “Oh fuck!”

Frankie laughed and pulled you into his chest, arms wrapped around your middle. You hummed in his embrace but shook your head at his antics. “God, you’re really the worst,” you laughed.

“You love me though,” Frankie grinned, spinning you around in the water. His hair was soaked, sticking to his forehead. It was getting longer now, the ends curling around his ears. He looked beautiful like this, so relaxed and worry-free. You loved it. You loved him.

You kissed his cheek, lips lingering on his skin. “I do, mi amor. I love you very much.”

[mikkomacko]

Tyson home with a cold blurb! I too am home with a cold. We can all be unwell together

Noooo cold season is hitting us all hard :( hope you feel better soon

X

~

Tyson is literally the worst sick person in the world, I just know it

Not in an annoying, demanding, helpless way

But in a denying way. He will never admit when he doesn’t feel good, even if he’s at the point of physically shoving tissues up his nose to stop it from running and eating spoonfuls of honey just so he can chatter through his sore throat

Which is what he did for a whole week

The first day you noticed that he was just a little droopy in the morning, dragging his feet to practice and denying his usual cup of coffee from you

Odd since he’s such an early bird

The second day he’s still dragging but now he’s got red rimmed eyes and will only eat bananas, toast, or plain noodles. When he denies steak for dinner you know something is really wrong

On the third day he’s still as chatty as usual, blabbering to you about any and everything but he’s walking with a tilt, like it physically hurts him to move. You’d think he just got banged up in last night’s game but as the week had shown you, Tyson is succumbing to the winter cold.

He denies. Tells you he’s just tired, it’s been a busy week, back to back games, blah blah blah. Even so, you stock up on soup, tissues, and medicine.

The fourth day is when you really know he’s gone. You have to shake him awake after he sleeps through 3 minutes of his alarm. He’s curled up in a hoodie and has stolen all the blankets from you, squeezing them tight to his torso. But his body is not against yours, enough so that you didn’t even realized he’d robbed you of the covers.

And when he finally blinks his eyes open they’re dull and tired, his breath wheezy as he struggles to breathe through his stuffed nose

“Tys skip practice and rest please.”

He mumbles something through his raw throat, trudging into the bathroom to change for morning skate. You can’t force him to stay or let you take his temperature but he does choke down some fever pills and a vitamin C before leaving

Your asleep by the time he returns home that night but by then he’s fully accepted his fate after he was scratched from the game for illness.

He wakes you up with pouty eyes and flat hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, a thick blanket around his shoulder.

“Baby…”

“Yes Tyson?”

“I think I’m getting sick.”

“You are sick Tyson.”

Fully prepared, you tuck him into your shared bed, turning on a Christmas movie while you turn up the heat a bit for him. Then you’re stocking up his night stand with tissue boxes, bottles of water and Gatorade, cold medicine, Tylenol, and cough drops.

You bring him warm chicken broth to drink, stroking his damp hair as he sips his dinner. When he’s done you have him take night time medicine, turning down the lights and letting him curl into your side.

He fights sleep as long as he can, wanting to just lay with you all night but eventually he’s drifted off, lightly snoring through a stuffy nose.

Not that you mind. Because Tyson is an easy sick person. He does what he needs to get better, though it takes him some time to admit he needs it.

And he’s so snuggly when he’s sick you sometimes are glad. You get to have him at home for a few extra days, all to yourself to be dotted on.