#definitely pre planned

[buzz-in-your-veins]

Sleepy

There’s a reason Blitzø’s not allowed to cast the portal spell.

Warning: Possibly slightly out of character.

Loona had popped out for coffee. She’d been gone for five minutes.

Yet somehow, fucking Blitzø had screwed up.

Again.

The Grimuor was on the table, surrounded by three prone bodies.

Loona heard Blitzø’s phone from his office, and, paying no mind to the coffee staining her fur, she sprinted to the door, yanked it open, snatched Blitzø’s phone and slammed her claw onto the answer button so hard it cracked.

Oops.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, YOU BRAINDEAD BIRD REJECT!?”

There was pure silence on the other line, and for a moment, Loona worried she’d answered the phone to the wrong person.

“Loona? What happened?”

Nevermind.

“WHAT HAPPENED?! MY DUMBASS DAD USED YOUR STUPID PORTAL SPELL AND NOW MY-THOSE IDIOTS ARE FUCKING DEAD!”

Loona was shaking, she couldn’t think. She’d only just found her family, she couldn’t lose them.

“Loona? It’s me, I need you to breathe, okay? Are they breathing?”

Her soul-sisters voice helped to soothe her. As she walked back into the reception, she worked on getting even, measured breaths.

Stepping over the coffee she’d dropped earlier, she listened, four heartbeats, slow breathes she’d come to associate with the imps, and gently moving chests.

Loona felt pure relief flood through her, they weren’t dead.

“Loona?”

Octavia’s voice sounded again, and Loona felt absolute embarrassment flood her, she’d screamed at Stolas for what happened, she’d been stupid and rash, convinced they were dead.

“Loona?”

“Yea, yea, they’re breathing.”

“There are two spells on that page, most likely they just used the sleep spell, they’ll be okay. They’ll just sleep for a while.”

“Okay, I’ll get them home. We’re still going to goth-topic later.”

Loona heard Octavia’s faint chuckles, and smiled. She knew how much Octavia was healing.

“Bye Lu.”

Ending the call, Loona grimaced when she saw what she’d done to Blitzø’s phone. She’ll need to get him a new one, fuck.

She opened a portal to M&M’s place, going through to put Moxxie and Millie into bed, promising internally to text them once she got Blitzø home.

Stepping back and closing the portal, she picked Blitzø up, getting the van to drive them home. Once they got home, Loona gently placed Blitzø in bed, tucking the covers over him. She smiled.

Her family was okay, and she was happy.

She took a picture, purely for blackmail purposes

She felt a tug on her fur as she made to leave, and realised Blitzø was holding on to her.

Grabbing a pillow, Loona sat on the floor.

She was only sitting there till Blitzø let go.

No-one noticed Stolas texting Blitzø.

‘Loona called you dad.’

She never did text M&M.

So three hours later, when they bust through Blitzø’s door, that was how they found their boss and the hellhound.

Millie placed a blanket around Loona, and took a photo before they made their leave. Four hours later, when Blitzø woke up to Millie’s message, Loona’d left a note and gone out.

Feedback is always appreciated <3

Reupload.

~Vyrus

[cryptiduni]

“white mourning.”

[theinfinitedivides]

the rest of the Heeramandi soundtrack just dropped and it's giving Bajirao Mastani meets Muskurahat from Gangubai meets Qala meets Kavita Seth's work on A Suitable Boy. very interesting soundscape choices Mr. Bhansali sir i approve

[headfullof-ideas]

Introducing more characters for my HTTYD/The Deep story! Only this time it’s supporting cast! I’ve decided there’s three overall casts in the story. The main cast (the dragon riders and their dragons, whose story and travels this lengthy project follows), the secondary cast (all their allies and enemies; Eret, Dagur, Heather, the Berkians, the Nektons, etc, etc.) who are there through most of the story, but not all of it. They’re pretty involved, but not every character is there for every episode. And then there’s the supporting cast. Minor characters. Characters a step up from background characters. They show up for a few episodes every once in a while, not near as often as everyone else, and they’re not as important to the overall story as the main and secondary casts, but they have names. They’re involved in certain arcs and episodes, but don’t repeatedly show up throughout the story like say, Dagur, Eret, Heather, the Berkian teens, and the Defenders and Wingmaidens.

But without further ado, here’s who I’ve got so far

And some closeups of each person, cause I like doing so

[infizero]

hehehehehehehe

[bisamwilson]

…out of envy or jealousy. for sambucky or any sam ship you'd like :D

#46: ...out of envy or jealousy (this turned out pretty sambuckyquin i'm ngl)

Joaquín's been getting a bit bold as of late.

He'd known the baby falcon had had a thing for Sam this whole time, of course, had watched him flirt and blush his way through every conversation back when Sam and himself were still firmly just frenemies.

It had been kind of fun to watch then, is still kind of fun to watch now, even though Bucky's less and less sure with each new flirty remark that Joaquín's not actually trying to shoot his shot.

Bucky trusts Sam. He knows they're solid. They've even talked about Joaquín's obvious crush on occasion, though it's pretty obvious to the both of them each time that the conversation's still ongoing.

Bucky's a little tipsy tonight though, halfway to drunk off that heavy Asgardian ale he really never should have touched, and he's teetering over the line of annoyance.

Joaquín's an affectionate drunk, as he and Sam are both learning tonight.

He's got an arm around Sam on the couch they're sitting on, and is leaning over on him, his head on his shoulder. Sam's got that amused look in his eyes he gets when Bucky is being particularly ridiculous or stubborn about something that doesn't actually matter, and something flares a little hot in his stomach at seeing it aimed at someone else.

Whatever Joaquín's saying is being mumbled into Sam's shoulder, so Bucky doesn't actually hear their conversation till he gets up closer.

"...look so amazing when you're flying, Sam," he says, voice filled with awe. "You always look so beautiful up there."

Bucky sees green. "He does, doesn't he?" he says sincerely, hoping Sam can't hear any trace of jealousy in his voice. He sits down on Sam's other side, pressing their legs as close together as he can, and tilts Sam's head towards him. "Every day I wonder how I got so lucky."

He leans in, then, capturing Sam's lips with his own. He makes a bit of a show of it, admittedly, parting his lips and pulling Sam's head in closer. He kisses him for just a little too long to be polite, but not too long it can't be explained away by the last drink he'd downed.

It's not quite long enough to really savor the taste of the whiskey Sam's been nursing on his own tongue, but he figures they've got all night for that later.

He pulls back slowly, relishing in the way it takes Sam just a moment too long to open his eyes after, and places his hand down on Sam's thigh, entirely too high up not to be deliberate.

When Sam turns back to Joaquín, just on the side of dazed, Bucky turns towards him too, smug and satisfied.

He finds the baby bird staring back at him already, his eyes wide and his lips parted as he looks between them both, breath a little heavier as his gaze catches on Sam's chest, on Bucky's arms, on the edge of a hickey poking out from under the collar of Bucky's shirt.

Bucky moves his hand up even higher on Sam's thigh.

They might just have to revisit that Joaquín conversation again, he thinks.

send me a ship and a number and i'll write a kiss!

[dazais-guardian-angel]

delighted that i'm so much more fond of chuuya at this point than i was just a couple years ago. it took the stormbringer play, the cannibalism play, and the fifteen manga (still haven't gotten to those two novels in their entirety, I Will Soon I Promise), it took 6ish+ years, but i can confidently say I Get It Now. Now i just need asagiri to break him (affectionate) in the manga and actually give him a character arc already <333

[mejomonster]

To get good at telling stories... writing stories... one must... practice by writing stories ;-;

[ask-dametagala]

Infiltrating the castle!

[Cut content, part 4]

There was supposed to be a very detailed scene of DMK using his awesome abilities and powers to fool the guards, scale buildings and sneak onto the balcony. Then he'd knock out Lundi (that swordsman Eggs Benedict was looking for) and steal their clothes. It was also cut because of me not having enough time, RIP-

No only that, there would've been a dance scene where GK and DMK clumsily dance with each other as well. Along with a little platonic metadedede sprinkled in. There was supposed to be way more familiar guests coming to greet King Dedede too. Kinda sad that I couldn't find a way to add Queen Ripple in.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 5]

[willsimpforazula]

Drabble rabble that got out of hand, I s'pose

So there I was, patiently waiting for Jigokuraku (Hell's Paradise) to air ever since I saw the trailer about a year ago and having just watched the first ep...I thought yeah a Sokkla dynamic would work pretty neato for this AU So here it is ig.....might revisit this AU when at least the anime is done airing but we shall see...the Jigokuraku that nobody asked for but was living in my noggin rent free like a thieving bastard feedback is welcome (except when it comes to sokkla criticism, they are best ship and no, i will not elaborate) ____________

Courtyard

It was supposed to be a standard affair, as far as executions went. Granted, it wasn't every day one got to watch a shinobi get executed. After all, they were supposed to be nigh uncatchable, with their ability to get out of impossible situations attributed to some form of trickery or otherworldly means. That being said, the one now kneeling in front of him clearly used up all his luck and seemed resigned to his fate.

On the other hand, the girl standing in the back with a brush and book in hand puzzled him slightly. She was from the Yamada Clan, of that he was sure, but her reasoning for being there was not revealed to him (not that he cared, of course). Turning his attention back to the execution at hand, he expected the former shinobi's head to be rolling on the ground.

However, what he did not expect was a sigh that could only be interpreted as a bored eye roll as his head remained firmly attached to his neck with nary a scratch. Thinking that he must be hallucinating, the executioner swung his sword over and over again, but instead the blade shattered. Shocked, the judge quickly called off the event and had the prisoner sent back to his cell. Meanwhile, the Yamada Clan girl merely jotted down some observations in her book. ---------

Prison Cell

Why can't I just die?

I don't have anything left to live for.

So why?

Lost in his thoughts, Sokka didn't hear the door open, nor did he look up at his visitor. In fact, he thought of her as a nuisance, a persistent bug much like the mosquitoes who, absent the lack of ability to be squashed by his palms courtesy of his chains, would not stop pestering him with question after question.

"Your name is Sokka, correct?"

"Last I checked it was, I think. Unless you've somehow found a different name that I don't know about."

"You were raised since childhood to be a shinobi, correct? I heard that for every ten boys who undergo the training process, only three make it out alive."

"Your point?"

"Those who survived develop superhuman bodies. Like being able to break blades with your own flesh."

"Big deal. Besides, you and I both know that swordsman was a complete fucking amateur. I didn't even have to use ninjutsu."

"You can use ninjutsu? Could you show me some of your techniques?"

"And here I thought you were here for my good looks. I'm hurt." he replied, making sure to double up on the sarcasm.

"Perhaps in a different life, I suppose. Unfortunately, you do not interest me in the slightest in your current iteration. In any case, you did not answer my question."

"What could ninjutsu from a condemned shinobi possibly be of use to you?"

"Research, I suppose. It's not every day you get the chance to interview a shinobi."

"Nope, not a chance lady. My secrets die with me and that's the end of it."

_______________

The next day…..

"Look, I promise you, I really am not trying to resist. If anything, I wish you'd kill me instead of those half assed jokers."

"Mmm."

"If you're gonna look away, then why not ask the guards to give me a fresh change of clothes?"

When she ignored him, Sokka responded "Oi, I'm talking to you. Didn't your parents teach you to look at someone when they're talking to you?"

"Mmhmm." she replied as she scribbled some more observations in her book.

"And?"

"I'm here to record the events as it unfolds. Your present state of undress is of no concern to me."

"And yet here you are averting your gaze. Afraid of being seduced?"

Choosing to ignore his question, she instead asked "Tell me more about your background."

"Here we go again. For the one hundredth time, I've told you my background isn't interesting."

"I have a job to do."

"Ugh..fine. No wonder you're not engaged yet, I pity the fool who has to marry you."

"My current relationship status is of no concern to you." she replied, a bit too quickly.

"Nailed it." he smirked.

"I swear by the spirits you're just like my bro-never mind. Tell me about your background."

Deciding that her unwittingly letting slip that she had a brother was sufficient exchange for his information, he obliged her.

"To be honest, I don't know much. I was told that the chief killed them and adopted me and my sister. As for dreams, nope, I don't have any. Shinobi like us aren't to concern ourselves with the bigger picture, merely to concern ourselves with the killing of whoever the chief deemed needed to be eliminated."

"I see. Do you know why you were caught?"

"Hmm….it was a set up. I tried to leave and word got out to the chief I suppose. No one can be allowed to leave our village."

Keeping her golden eyes fixed on his, she asked "Why did you try to leave?"

Unfortunately, she did not get an answer, only being met with a long silence. Deciding that she had probably overstayed her welcome, she got up and left.

________________________

A few days later…

Staring at the sky, Sokka busied himself by picking out shapes of clouds in the sky while the magistrate's men worked to attach ropes to his legs to two bulls, whilst the magistrate himself, a rotund bald man with an ego larger than his body size would allow for, cackled with delight as he was worried that news would get back to the shogunate that he was not capable of a performing a simple execution and thus, risk his neck being the one on the chopping block.

Alas, his efforts came to naught as instead, a tug from Sokka's ankles brought the bulls crashing into each other instead of splitting him apart. At this, the magistrate lost his temper and began to bark orders to his men.

"Don't you think it rather strange?" the girl approached him, her now signature notebook and brush in hand poised to record more notes.

"No, why?" Sokka asked

"It seems to me that despite your statements of wanting to die, your actions contradict them. Why would someone with no reason to live, clin-never mind. You never did answer my question the previous day."

"Who gives a shit about your questions, just kill him already!" the magistrate fumed.

Waving her hand, she replied "I'm working."

"What about the-"

"Later. Now, would you answer my question or not?"

"Tsk, so demanding. Fine, whatever."

"I'm listening."

"I was the best shinobi in the entire village. I had his word that my sister would be well taken care of while I remained his best blade. Surprisingly, he kept his word. Still, keeping her ignorant of the wider world for much longer was not an option, as was seeing her married off to some shinobi like me who has only seen the ugliest the world has to offer. That is no way to live. As her only surviving relation, how can I do that to her and still claim to be the protective big brother? I'd be spitting on my parents' grave if I did so.  And so that's how I ended up being captured, set up by the chief who forbade anyone from venturing beyond our village. There you have it. Happy now?"

"Thank you for your answer."

_______________________

Later that night….

"Perhaps it's not my place to say, but a young pretty woman like yourself should not get any closer to someone like him." one of the magistrate's men commented as they made their rounds.

"Thanks for your concern, but I can handle myself. I am from the Yamada clan, afterall."

"Do you know his name?"

"Of course, it would be silly if I hadn't. His name is Sokka, former shinobi of Iwagakure."

"I mean his other name. Sokka the Hollow. An emotionless monster, he slew twenty men when he was arrested. Rumour has it that the shinobi of Iwagakure drink some sort of potion of immortality, that's why they are unkillable. That potion comes from Shinsenkyo."

"Potion huh…." she pondered, her golden eyes.

"Forget I spoke such nonsense. In any case, he's a dangerous man and you would be wise to be on guard."

"If he really is as hollow and emotionless as you say he is, then why did he fight back so hard as he did? You don't fight like that, not unless you have something to live for."

A week later…

When the attempt to condemn Sokka to death via boiling oil failed once more, this time with casualties to his own men, the magistrate was on the verge of tears and was about to snatch the sword in his office and either kill Sokka himself or commit seppuku.

"You know, I'm ready any time." she reminded him.

At this, the magistrate's expression changed, as if he had suddenly stumbled upon an epiphany.

_________________

Two days later

"So, what's it going to be this time? Explosives? Poison? Or maybe…a combination of both?" Sokka sarcastically asked as he was escorted to some form of room at the end of a tunnel.

"You'll see."

Entering the room, Sokka saw her seated, her hands resting on her thighs while her face wore an expression of meditation. When she looked up, she untied the ribbon from her shoulder and redid her hair before standing up.

"What is this, are you going to fuck me to death or some shit? This has got to be some sick joke, stop fucking around."

"Oh ho, you think she's just some inspector from the shogunate huh? No, she is no mere inspector, she's a sword tester sent here straight from Edo." As he said this, he could see her draw her katana from her scabbard, her familiarity with the weapon evident.

"She is the executioner Yamada Asaemon Azula. Her family has served the shogun as sword testers and executioners for generations. All of their clansfolk are trained in the art of swordsmanship."

"You-you're an Asaemon?"

"Yes, that is correct. Sokka the Hollow, you said you wished for your execution. Today, I shall grant you that very wish." she answered, her golden eyes narrowing to a singular focus, that being the removal of his head from his body.

Well fuck me to tears, this girl's the real deal, his mind told him. Instinctively, he flexed his his wrists and broke the chains that bound his hands, shattering them into mere firewood.

"Azula-dono, kill him!" the magistrate screeched.

With a lunge, she thrust forward, landing a nick on his neck as he dodged and rolled away to the side.

"Why did you dodge my blow?" Azula asked, her voice quizzical.

"I-" Before he could respond, she leapt at him once more, forcing him to leap away to safety.

Do..Do I really not want to die? Sokka thought to himself, as she took a deep breath and reset herself.

"I've executed many criminals throughout my time. Some put up a brave front, right up till just before their death. Some beg for mercy, others deceive themselves and say they have accepted their fate. Sokka the Hollow, I can sense that the void in your heart is indeed larger than anyone here in this room, of that I am sure. But you still want to live, that I am sure."

At this, memories of his sister flashed into his mind, making him see red. In a flash he snatched a katana from one of the guardsmen and lunged at her before the hapless man knew what had happened.

"Admit it, you kept on living for her." Azula calmly responded, as their blades clashed and gold eyes met blue.

"And yet you lie to my face every single time I visit, telling me that you have no attachments to this world and that you're ready to face death."

"Shut the fuck up! You know nothing about me! Nothing!" he screamed, before launching into a series of vicious strikes that caught her off guard and had her on the defensive, only just being able to parry the multitude of strikes that would have dealt any lesser swordsman a killing blow multiple times over, as echoes of his promise to his sister just before he left on that fateful mission repeated over and over like a broken record.

"LISTEN TO ME, THERE IS A WAY OUT!" she shouted, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Unfurling a scroll, she showed him the decree "This is an official pardon, straight from the shogun himself. With this, you are a free man and are untouchable; not me, the magistrate or your village chief could harm you. On one condition."

"And that is?"

"You will travel to the Underworld and retrieve the Elixir of Immortality."

"What do you mean, travel to the Underworld? Doesn't that mean you'll just kill me? How does that work?"

"No. For centuries there was believed to be a land free from pain and suffering, a land teeming with abundance and joy, far to the southern seas. For centuries sailors and explorers have scoured the far oceans for such a place, and now, they have found it, just as the scripts have described it. There, it seems, one can find this immortal life giving elixir. Many have tried on orders of the shogunate in Edo, but none came back alive. Those that did return, looked barely human at all."

"That sounds like a bunch of mythical bullshit you feed to toddlers."

"That's what I thought too…until I saw the bodies first hand. I came here, looking for candidates with a burning passion to live and skills to back it up. On my way here, I heard that your sister is still in Iwagakure, waiting everyday by the village entrance for you."

"I….."

"One last thing, you will not be going in solo. There are other Asaemon pairs who are also jockeying for a chance at redemption.Thus, I now offer you this choice; accept this mission and win not only freedom for yourself, but also for your sister or die a criminal's death here and now."

"This is ridiculous. The shogun couldn't possibly have issued this decree. He is but one of many, what makes him so special? Guards!"

Closing his eyes, all Sokka could see was the face of his sister, waiting anxiously at the village entrance for his safe return.

Katara…I'm coming back…I promise…

In a small voice, he asked "Azula….remember when you asked if you could see ninjutsu?"

"Yes?"

"Then watch and learn." he calmly replied, his mind moving into a trance like state as flames emerged from his body, the heat causing her to raise her arms while the brightness made her blink as she heard him whisper: Ninpo - Ascetic Blaze.

In a flash of light and smoke, six charred bodies lay in a pile, atop which Sokka sat as small embers danced on his fingertips.

"Impressive. I hope that you would be willing to teach me some of your tricks during our travels."

"Sure, whatever you say. Where do we go from here?" he replied as she resheathed her katana.

"Edo."

"What? Why not head straight there?"

"You do as I say or the deal's off."

"Alright alright, calm down, I'll do as you say."

"That sounds more like it." she replied, a small smile gracing her lips that told Sokka she was definitely going to be handful on their trip

[masquenoire]

✿

PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2

“This ain’t Metropolis, Boy Scout...”

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other

[dontmeanyoudontmissit]

I finally looked up my post-operative care instructions and for the first day I'm supposed to be on a cold liquid diet so I absolutely am making ice cream plans.

[pixelglam]

hi, could you perhaps make more lookbooks, (I’m the future) especially with mya, I would like to see some momfits!

Hello! I definitely want to make more lookbooks. I don’t really play with mya anymore so I don’t feel inspired to dress her up 😕 From my understanding (and googling), momfits are outfits that are more on the comfortable, casual and practical side (ie. flats instead of heels) and I think I’d have fun making some like that with dahlia, even though she doesn’t have a child. I hope you don’t mind! 🤍

[cursedxartist]

Pre-Established Relationship | ACCEPTING

send me a  ✿  and i’ll fill out the template below. bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

@kingspuppet​​ said: ✿ || Since we're talking about building up their relationship!!

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other

[qqueenofhades]

I think its genuinely fascinating how Biden has somehow become the bad vibes sin eater for the party. I'm seeing people who were doing the whole "voting doesn't matter both old men are the same" pivot hard into voting as harm reduction. The anti voting rhetoric has COMPLETELY lost The Youths on tiktok. People suddenly remember the good things the Biden administration has done but don't associate Harris with any of the things they didn't like. In my swing state volunteers are signing up in droves. People feel ENERGIZED, the vibe shift pre and post Biden dropping from the race has just been insane

Y'know, that is a... good way of putting it. It's also why I'm quite sure that Biden has probably been planning it for a while. I don't think he was intending to step down, and didn't want to be forced out at the drop of a hat, but after he realized that the circus was never going to stop until he did, he did the honorable fall-on-his-own-sword thing and definitely, DEFINITELY spent some time choreographing this behind the scenes. Because while the roll-out has been very smooth, it could just as easily (as many of us were expecting) have been a total disaster, and that doesn't happen without SOME planning. It's also entirely possible that the campaign staff flipped from Biden to Harris are superhuman, to come up with a massive online roll-out, new branding, new signs (they had plenty of 'em in Wisconsin yesterday), new everything, but I'm guessing it's a combination of both. Biden has spent his entire political career being underestimated, and after we literally made a meme out of Dark Brandon juking the Republicans out of their shoes, we should definitely give credit where credit is due in how masterfully he pulled it off.

Because we have had eight years defined by the central question of Whether The President Is a God King Who Should Serve For Life (the MAGAts obviously think yes), the sheer idea of a president willingly giving up his power BEFORE he had to is also novel and admirable. It's sad that this is the case, but so be it. The Republicans also got a heaping helping of Be Careful What You Wish For that was undoubtedly brilliant; they've been yelling for years that Biden is old and frail and can't serve and should step down. Biden went "lol okay" and gave it to them, and now they're fucked.

Aside from that, on the most basic level, it's far, far easier to see the actual difference in the parties with Harris as the nominee, just because it shows that one party is willing to make progress and reflect the new demographic reality and social mores of America, and the other one is not. Now to be clear, Biden deserves an incredible amount of credit for coming out of retirement (he was ALREADY 77 years old when he became president and had had decades of a long and respected career in public service behind him) to fight, beat Trump, and deliver an incredibly successful presidency. He held the line against authoritarianism at home and abroad, he rescued the trashed American economy and managed a world-leading recovery from Covid, he stood up for democracy, he spent four years filling the benches with liberal judges to reverse even some of the Trump/McConnell hack job, he finally passed comprehensive infrastructure investment and the Green New Deal under the name of the Inflation Reduction Act -- and so on. Many of these priorities had been languishing for decades or were completely trashed under Trump, and he could not have done so much in just 4 years without all that age, skill, and experience. Hence why all the Ageism!!! was (aside from being a Republican/media smear job) dumb. He's able to do the job because he has had decades to study. Turns out that makes you actually pretty damn good at it.

Yes, Biden could not do as much as he wanted or originally planned, had to deal with MAGA Republicans and Joe Manchin/Kyrsten Sinema sabotaging him the whole time (lololol Manchin, possible possessor of the World's Biggest Ego and with Trump around that's saying something, popping out of obscurity to self-righteously announce he would not be willing to be Kamala's VP. YEAH ASSHOLE. LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED YOU. NOBODY WHATSOEVER. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS AT LEAST WE WILL SOON NO LONGER HAVE MANCHIN IN THE SENATE). And yes, Biden made some serious mistakes of his own, because he IS from an older generation and a different style of doing politics/different beliefs that no longer resonate with the younger segments of the electorate. But this old white Catholic guy at the age of almost 80 still managed to be the most progressive president ever, coming in at a moment of incredible domestic and international crisis and getting us safely to the other side, and all cynicism, criticizing, and caveating aside, he deserves an incredible amount of credit for that. I mean that absolutely, and I am very grateful.

As I said, willingly relinquishing that power takes guts, and when Biden saw the writing on the wall that he had to sacrifice himself, he took his time, he didn't jump too early, and he didn't jump too late. On the most basic level, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to make the "both parties are not the same" argument when one is running a (comparatively) young brown woman and the other is still running their loathed felonious old demented orange traitor. Most Americans are not plugged into policy minutiae and details. They look at Biden-Trump, they see two old white guys. When you take one of those old white guys away (who goes in a self-sacrificially heroic manner and in sharp contrast with the coup-happy fascist) and put Kamala Harris in there instead, it generates an obvious jolt. People can see for themselves that there is a real difference that doesn't rely on closely reading news and tracking complex policy, because as noted, most Americans simply don't. The brown first-generation American daughter of brown immigrants is a quantifiably different story from "old white guy career politician," which for better or worse is how Biden was seen, especially the old part. We needed that establishment expertise to beat Trump in 2020; I still think Biden is the only one who could have done it, and as noted, we owe him a great debt for doing so.

However.... 2024 is not 2020, and it is not 2016. There has been this HUGE and unbelievable swing to Kamala because she represents the antithesis of what the last eight years of Trump-induced anger, fear, panic, chaos, and hatred has stirred up. That's why people are so ready to rally around her, just as they were (I daresay) around Obama in 2008, after the exhaustion, chaos, war, and mounting economic misery of Bush. Trump has been out of office for the last four years, but his shadow over the American political landscape has been omnipresent. Now people know that we finally have a real chance at getting rid of him forever, and just as Biden was uniquely positioned to capitalize on that in 2020, so Harris is now. Which is why, however tough it will be, she has a real shot at winning. I can guarantee the Republicans know that, and are shit scared. Because the Black Lady Army of Democracy has indeed arrived in force to Get This Shit Done and I don't know about you, but I found that incalculably comforting:

Yikes! All lined up for Kamala pic.twitter.com/Dt4OCDp7WX

— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) July 24, 2024

This, at the most basic level, is what scares fascists the most, it's exactly what we need now, and what Harris is uniquely positioned to mobilize, along with her gangbusters appeal to young voters:

This is the energy we need. This is what Biden saw and planned for and which he launched us into, and where all that experience and age paid off. This is why people, even people otherwise disengaged, disillusioned, or checked out of the tedious and mind-numbering drudgery and depression of American politics, are responding to it. Because it's easy to understand, it offers hope, and it tells a very simple story that is nonetheless long overdue:

Thanks so much, Joe. Go absolutely waste that orange fucker, Kamala. We got your back.

[laligraves]

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 

She throws a sponge at your head. 

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  

- 

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 

“Good morning,” you whisper. 

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 

“How did you know–” 

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 

“How dare you–”  

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 

His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 

“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from.