#first and motherfucking foremost

[designernishiki]

y3 has made me feel many things but one of the things that lingers with me the most about it is how majima takes every possible opportunity and makes every possible gesture to say “please don’t leave me alone again, please take me with you when you leave, I WANT to be right next to you when you need me, I’ll literally do anything for you, just don’t leave me alone again” always indirectly but in strong enough ways that i think it’d be obvious to anyone paying attention EXCEPT Kazuma Kiryu, The Densest Man On Earth, who he’s pleading to in the first place. it’s. frustrating to watch. someone needs to grab kiryu by the shoulders and tell him. for the love of god. this man loves you so much and you keep leaving him when all he wants to do is help you and be with you please just take him to okinawa oh my god

[jojotier]

Everyone following me for homestuck is about to learn a hell of a lot more about political thriller operas where the female lead kills the villain while hitting an operatic high note

[orcelito]

i do love that vash is the Definition of high int, low wis. he puts on the goofiness to get ppl to not pay attention to how absolutely Bonkers skilled he is so ppl just assume he's a dumbass. and like. he IS. in some ways. he is SUCH a dumbass. but he's an incredibly intelligent dumbass. he has layers.

[trenchcrows]

hi!!!!! tell me your top 5 favourite animals!!!!! thank you!!!!!

aaaaaaahhhh

crow (gotta stay on theme :333)

red fox or fennec fox

cat

wombat

deer

(send me a topic ill list my top 5 for!!!)

[thefabelmans2022]

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[apartmentofdark]

TOP FLIGHT!!!!!!!!!!

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU 3

Masterpost

So this one is a bit longer, but that's because part of it is the same phone conversation from the other side.

~~~~~

“Road trip!” Dick calls out. All of the- siblings(?)-younger people start to scramble before Bruce calls out for them to stop.

“This is going to be a 12 hour drive one-way, which means we won't be back until dinner tomorrow at the earliest. Not all of you can go.” This causes a lot of frowns and Danny holds in a chuckle. They start arguing over why they should be able to go and Bruce pinches his nose, right between his eyes as they shout at him.

“First and Foremost, I do believe that Masters Duke, Damian, and Stephanie have school tomorrow.” Alfred inserts. Everyone quiets to listen to him, Danny notes. Everyone else they’ll talk over, he must be important, be extra nice to him.

The three must sigh and sit back down at the table. 

“Cass, if you wouldn’t mind staying to keep them out of trouble overnight. I’m sure Alfred will see them out to school.”

Cass shrugs, then signs at Dick who responds “Of course!” Danny hadn’t realized that she was speaking sign language this whole time.

Bruce then turns to face Dick and Tim. “You have absolutely no way to keep us from coming.” Dick sing-songs.

“You both have work tomorrow.”

“Actually, Dick and I called out ten minutes ago, family emergency.” Tim shrugs. “We won’t be in for a few days unless things change.”

“Alright, go grab your things.” They both whoop and you can just tell they were both about to start running when they catch eyes with Alfred and just start walking really fast. “Pack light, and grab some changes of clothes for Jason!”

Before they can leave a phone starts ringing. They all look around before all eyes settle back on Danny. He feels around his pockets for where the phone is, before pulling it out and seeing his own number on the caller ID.

“Oh, it’s me!” Danny hurries to pick up as he hears someone mutter “Why didn’t we think of that?” from the table. Dick and Tim are almost immediately right next to him as he mumble out a hello.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” His heart thumps when he hears his own voice coming out the other side of the phone. It somehow makes the whole situation seem a bit more real then it did before.

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Hey, we’re his family”

“We’re all his brothers and Cass is his sister.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?” 

So much talking at once, Danny tries to focus on his own voice coming through the phone. It’s a little deeper than it usually is, gruffer and lilted like it’s trying to talk in an accent the mouth isn’t familiar with shaping. Danny supposes the voice he’s speaking with now must be doing the same.

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason sighs loud enough to hear over the phone and Danny chuckles at the response. 

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?” They were all home the last he checked, and Jazz usually tells him before she heads out. 

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Danny rubs a hand down his face just thinking of that - his homework- being his soulmate's first real impression of him. 

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

Danny shakes off the embarrassment “I think so?” 

“Of course we are!”,  “Was he not paying any attention as we decided who should go?”, “We were just planning.” There are so many people talking at once again.

 Danny pulls his face away from the phone and turns to the room at large “Stop it, buzz off!”. He turns to face a wall and takes a few steps away.  “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny hums, focused on something else. “Look, I do need to warn you…” what if he goes ghost, can he go ghost with Jason in his body? What are his parents working on today? “ about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?” Weird ice mist coming out of your mouth would be pretty unexplainable at the moment, but random things shooting at him can be avoided!

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.” Almost everything in that lab is to be avoided, although since he is already in Danny’s body he shouldn’t be bothered by the potential radiation.

“Kid, what?” 

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Danny does not know how he would explain this over the phone, with a room of eavesdroppers behind him. Although they’ve become respectfully quiet, more whispers than anything now. 

“Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” That would be best, Jazz will definitely help him. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and puts the phone on speaker before calling out to the room, “You’re on speaker!” so everyone in the room knows as well as Jason. 

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick has bounded back over to Danny, right up in the personal space. 

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells from the table, where she continued eating at some point.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

Danny starts laughing so hard he doesn’t register everyone else in the room having frozen at the outburst.

“Oh, wow, same.” Danny gets out once he can breathe again.

The room is staring at him again, but they seem to do that a lot.

“You must be Jazz.” They hear coming through the phone. “I’m Jason.”

“Jazz!” Danny calls out. 

“Danny would like to talk to you.” There’s a small shuffle. 

“Danny?”

“Hey, Jazz! So, apparently I’m the younger, so today’s the day. I’m with his family right now.”

“You have a plan? Are you coming home?”

“Yeah, just. Would you mind keeping an eye on Jason until I get there? It’s going to be a long drive so could you make sure nothing shoots him and that he gets edible food?”

“I’ll take him to Nasty for dinner, don’t worry.” Danny sighs in relief, he knew Jazz would help, but he did not need his soulmate food fighting with dinner.

“Sounds good, he’s in my body so he shouldn’t really be poisoned but Mom and Dad still can’t really cook. Speaking of which! He is in my body so if anything happens with the, um, medical condition, help him through that as well.”

“Of course, Danny.”

“Thanks Jazz! We were just deciding who was coming along, but apparently, it's about a 12-hour drive? So, you guys won’t see us until tomorrow.”  There’s a lot unspoken in this conversation, but Danny knows she’ll do her best. “Try not to interrogate him, and no psychoanalyzing!”

[rileyslibrary]

if reqs r closed pls ignore this sorry im genuinely so blind so idk if u were taking them rn, but can i request “the captain will have to get involved pretty soon” situation from that fic where a new lieutenant joins, overall just like a part 2 where price does have to get involved 😭😭 like ghost is just so annoyed with this man

Hey reader! 🍫 No need to worry; I don’t have a “policy” on requests apart from the nsfw thingy (i don’t know how to write smut). Whatever comes, I accept it wholeheartedly! :)

Synopsis: Ghost and the new Lt. get in a fight. Price handles the situation accordingly and nobody is happy.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader, Captain John Price

Word Count: 1,112

Notes:

For those who haven’t read Part 1, here it is.

Lots of swearing and mentions of physical injuries. Other than that, it’s fluff.

Want more?

———————————————————————

Yup. Unfortunately, the Captain had to get involved in the end.

Not just him, though; an entire room full of trained soldiers had to jump in and separate Ghost from almost strangling Lt. Wilson, or “Mr Toothless,” as he often referred to him.

Why “Mr Toothless”, you may ask? Well, Ghost decided to baptize the new lieutenant with that nickname for a couple of reasons. 

First, he took your comment about Wilson’s fake teeth to heart. “If they’re fake,” he reasoned, “that means the fucker is already toothless and wears veneers to cover ’em up.”

And when you told him that’s not true since some people undergo cosmetic surgery to improve something they might have suffered an injury from, Ghost came up with his second reason as to why the new lieutenant is—or rather will be—toothless.

“Might have suffered an injury?” He contemplated. “Well, he’s about to suffer another one when I knock them out again.”

So, it was either “Mr. Toothless over there” or “Mr. Future Toothless one again.” Whatever the case, Ghost never called him by his real name, which started to piss off Lt. Wilson a whole lot. And that’s how it all escalated.

The breaking point came while at the briefing room, with Price at the head of the table and the two lieutenants seated across from each other. The rest of the team was strategically scattered around, avoiding being too close to Riley or Wilson. They were like furnaces, ready to burst at any time and burn you along with them, so you all figured it was best to stay as far away from them as possible.

Price was dividing the teams for the new mission: Team Alpha (Ghost’s Team) had to reach the target’s point by air, while Team Bravo (Wilson’s Team) would travel by land. The tipping point was when Price absentmindedly assigned you to Wilson’s team. Being Ghost’s Achilles’ heel, you were enough to light up a spark in the furnace. Wilson, on the other hand, was, in fact, a motherfucker. He knew that you, being assigned to his team, would piss Ghost off, so he turned towards you and winked upon hearing your name.

“Awesome,” he said, “doll’s with me.”

“Call them a doll again,” Ghost replied, “and I’ll make you as shiny and smooth as a Ken.” A threat that seemed nonsensical then but became clearer over time. And it wasn’t funny at all. See, Ken dolls lack organs, including a brain, heart, and, as Ghost hinted, a certain... anatomical feature.

And, as you stand in front of Ghost at Price’s office, tending to his cut lip and bruised eye, questions swirl in your mind. First and foremost, why is Ghost so obsessed with Lt. Wilson’s bones and limps? How was he planning to execute such a horrendous action? And how did he manage to leap onto the table and kick Wilson in the face like Leonidas did in the movie “300”?

“You fucked up big time, Simon,” Price warns Ghost as he paces around the room with his hands on his waist.

“He started it,” Ghost retorts.

“No,” Price shouts, running towards Ghost and inching away from his bruised-up face, “you landed the first kick, and then things escalated faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”

Ghost sighs. “How is he?” He asks.

You look at him, shocked. This guy amazes you. All he wanted was to kick Wilson right in the face, and now he’s worried about his health.

“He is fucked; that’s how he is,” Price replies, “and you’re fucked too.”

“What’ll happen now?” Ghost asks

Price lets out a sharp chuckle. Not one of entertainment, for sure. Something that hints you’re both about to find out.

“I’m relieving Lt. Wilson of his duties in the field and relocating him to another position,” the Captain announces.

“Good,” Ghost replies. “At least he’ll be out of my business for a while.”

“Oh, on the contrary brother,” Price smirks, “he’ll be all up in your business now.”

You stop treating Ghost’s wound and turn to Price. “W-where exactly are you relocating, Lt. Wilson, Captain?” You ask, confused.

Price approaches you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, now both facing Ghost.

“I’m putting Wilson in the same office as you two,” Price says, smiling. “That is until you and him sort out your… issues.”

Ghost doesn’t react. He stretches his neck while looking at Price.

“You think I wouldn’t find out what the apple of discord was?” Price whispers at Ghost, “You and him either become best friends, or you’re both out.” He says. He removes his hand from your shoulder, adjusts his hat, nods at you, and walks out of the room.

You turn towards Ghost, who’s now leaning on his legs, looking at the floor.

“Look at me,” you command, “I still need to patch that lip of yours.”

He obeys and looks up. You sigh. As much as you trust Price and his strategic decision to put the three of you in the same room, you fear that the ball is now in your field. Juggling Ghost’s outbursts was something you learned to handle with skill and prowess. But including Lt. Harris in the equation is like putting two starving lions in a cage with an antelope.

“Why?” You ask, as you treat his bottom lip, “Why act so stupidly when you know it is you that I fancy?”

He looks away and shrugs. “He called you a doll.”

“And look where we are now, Simon,” you say. “Price gave you your last chance, and we get to have Mr Toothless with us at the office.”

“Won’t be an office anymore, love,” he mutters, “it’ll be a dollhouse full of Barbie and Ken dolls.”

You smile and lift his chin up with your fingers. “So, if I’m Barbie and he’s Ken,” you say, bringing your face closer to his, “who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Action Man, love.” He says and tries to wink with a swollen, already shut, black eye.

———————————————————————

Part 3 ->

[revvethasmythh]

I don't really understand the idea some people have that being a hater somehow precludes you from thinking a character is complex. like, yes, absolutely, [insert character here] is complex, but I am a hater first and foremost and if I can write a post that dresses them head to toe in clown gear, that is my gods given right. *bangs gavel* you are sentenced to life at the circus, motherfucker. go juggle while i point and laugh. this is what true joy looks like

[dropoutconfessions]

truly so funny how half the discourse is either “WAH WAH THEY’RE DOING MAGICAL KIDS AND I ONLY WANNA THINK ABOUT IT FOR 5 SECONDS” or “i think so and so is so and so” guess what motherfuckers! we’re just consumers! don’t like it? don’t consume it! they aren’t your friends! you don’t know them! they are clowns and jesters and actors jingling for their own amusement! we just get to watch. there’s their occasional call and response, but come on. be fucking for real. mismag isnt gonna fill miss terf supreme with power. dropout not catering to your traumas and triggers isn’t their job. people are going to do things you don’t like. part of the deal you get cut when you’re born. they are a COMPANY, first and foremost. take a step back and BREATHE people. go play a game of your own and stop losing sleep over people you’ll probably never meet.

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[bluespiritshonour]

Oh my God!

I just caught up with World's Finest: Teen Titans and I absolutely have to write this out:

First of all, I love this cover:

The thing that caught my eye: “you're grounded.”

Not the dramatic “you're fired” as if the motherfucker didn't raise that damn kid in his own damn house for YEARS.

(I know. I know. Bar on the ground, but what would you?)

Also, the anger palpable on Bruce's face and Dick's absolute disregard for it. I'm laughing here y'all. This is what teenagers act like. This is what fights between parents and children look like.

Also. Dick Grayson, I've been missing. You're back from war!

I love how curt he is. The “Get lost” hits in all the right places. We love a strongly-principled character that stands for what he believes in. With all the lukewarm Dick Grayson writing floating around I felt like walking into a coffee shop while it's snowing outside.

More of this writing, please.

I'd been waiting for this moment all through this series.

This conversation.

I compare things all the time. It might not be the right thing in every field but I think it serves well when it comes to comic books. We all have personal “canon criteria”—for example, mine are “Darwyn Cooke wrote this Bruce so I'm taking it as valid characterisation ” or “Every version of Bruce played by Kevin Conroy is valid”. (Minus Bruce Timm bullshit!)

Which was what cinched my hatred for Bruce after reading a Robin short story that Cooke wrote and alluded to Robin: Year One in it. I mean, I might not fuck with Dixon, but am I going to call even Cooke's Bruce OOC? No. It means Bruce is a jerk. Full stop.

Waid is one of the writers I respect (excluding Kingdom Come. I hate it and I can't put my finger on the why. But I just do: I hate it. I hate it for Clark. I hate it for Diana. And I'm a professional Bruce-hater so let's not even go there. I hate it for Dick too.)

And Dick and Bruce's relationship has a lot of baggage from the fact that a) Bruce is himself traumatised and fails to meet Dick's emotional needs b) he wasn't ready to be a father when he adopted Dick c) Dick simply suffers from being the eldest—the test child.

And very rarely have I seen writers manage to walk on the thin line of complicated-but-dedicated-and-strong.

Young Justice cartoon did it. Dick and Bruce's relationship is going strong. But they fight and have different values. And Dick can see all that is wrong with Bruce's approach to vigilantism in particular and life in general.

Grimm (Legends of the Dark Knight #149-154) did it right. Where Bruce hurt Dick deeply and made him feel unwanted all the while overthinking about Dick's well-being. Way to go, buddy! You can see the repercussions it has for Dick while simultaneously stare at this man who's tying himself into knots trying to think how best to parent.

I think that's what most Bruce and Dick comics miss: the excessive worrying. They don't show the worry, make them fight for drama, never address it apart from throwing out a “it's because Bruce's worried” (bitch, where?) and have Dick running back to Gotham at the first chance. It sounds an awful lot like “your parents hurt you 'cause they love you” bullshit.

I think World's Finest manages it well because foremost, Bruce says, in words, that he's worried about Dick's well-being. He's taciturn, he's putting constant pressure on Dick all in the hopes of making him quit Titans. All this makes him a jerk. But I don't hate him for it.

It's between Dick's “you don't trust me” and Bruce's “no, I don't trust them.”

Most teenagers clash with their parents. It's normal. That's what Waid has shown here and I love it. It feels very—normal?

Especially when the Bats aren't normal! Bruce sure as fuck ain't a normal parent. But there was something very bitter-sweet coming-of-age in this conversation.

Bruce does all those things that are bad for Dick and his growing independence. You're not supposed to handle teenagers like that.

He's worried and taking desperate measures. “If I punish him, then maybe he'll obey me and quit Titans and then he'll he safe”—lots of parents who don't know how to deal with teenagers do it.

But the sequence of it: Bruce is worried → Bruce wants Dick to quit Titans → for Dick it means proving himself to be better, to not get hurt (as if he can control that beyond a certain point) → Bruce being alarmed at Dick's insistence to stay with the Titans and taking desperate measures like benching him.

At least it makes sense.

Compare it to Dixon's Nightwing origin story, which honestly, personally I think was lazy writing. Drama for drama's sake. “You’re fired because you're spending too much time with the Titans.” The same writer also had Bruce say that he did it because he wanted Dick to strike out on his own. Blah, blah, blah.

And no matter whatever happens he'd never ever say it to Dick's face that he's worried about him because—well, reasons.

Robin: Year One logic:

I'm worried about Dick's health so I fire him. He runs off and can get hurt? He joins a school for assasins? None of my business. He can get hurt on his own, I don't care as long as it is not on my conscience. Peace.

—Bruce “professional narcissist” Wayne.

So, yes. When faced with this book(WF: TT), I'd call Dixon's writing lazy.

I'm also comparing this to several other instances when Bruce verbally says (never to Dick, mind you) that he loves that Dick's a better person and better vigilante than him. But in the same book he'd yell at Dick for exactly the same thing. (I consider that lazy writing, since BTAS made sure to show a shot of Bruce smiling whenever Dick was happy/not like him).

I like this thing here where he says it to Dick's face. He's still grounding him for “discipline's sake” or whatever—very, very IC for Bruce.

But he also lets Dick know that he appreciates his values, that are different—better—than Bruce's own.

I can stomach that.

Honestly Bruce's writing in this book felt like BtAS writing (pre-Bruce Timm fuckery). That's a compliment.

P.S. Waid's a good story-teller overall. His Superman: Birthright was one of the first Superman comics I read and I fell in love with Clark right away.

Peace ✌️😂

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: So, that "If you like dragons so much..." moment in the S2 trailer...

....yeah I'm sure this'll be fine.

For no particular reason, I wonder what diplomatic relations are like between Shuro's island (of which he is prince) and this one, and with the Western elves. Btw, to zoom in...

goodforhim.gif

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Mithrun has the 'looks effortlessly, unconsciously cool' ability and, apparently, the instinct to stand dramatically in high-up places, of Kaladin Stormblessed. I have to respect that.

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Thistle seems completely unable to parse that Falin isn't just the dragon. He doesn't just treat her as a tool: by the standards of this comic, he treats her like she's dead. Hell, he treated the dragon like it was dead: ignored its need to eat (and rest), smothered its will under his own....and now he's doing the same thing to Falin. He's not even aware that she needs to eat. He's forgotten what is necessary to be alive, even though he still goes through some of the motions himself.

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hi this is the most painful thing so far. Laios thinking this through with typical Laios systematic consideration. And this is one of his foremost thoughts, that he won't let Marcille have Falin's perma-death on her hands; he'll do it himself.

Hey, you know what? The Stamatis family from Greater Boston COULD do Dungeon Meshi, and the Toudens COULD do Greater Boston. I'm gonna think about that later.

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hey Laios what the FUCK does that mean.

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LOVE this visual. God the chapter covers are all so good.

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eyes eyes eyes eyes eyes

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ok I WAS spoilered for Marcille being a half-elf, too, but I think this is the first mention of it in canon! Very exciting! I don't know what it means for her socially, but I can't wait to find out!

It's so funny to think fo Thistle probably wandering past Senshi at some point and just kinda going, "Weirdo," and continuing on his way.

The great thing about this fight is that it genuinely WOULD be better if Thistle won and the lion remained bound. Mithrun lasted what, like a couple decades at most, as Lord of his Dungeon? Thistle has kept this place stable for like a thousand years (as the demon slowly fed on not just his desire but those of all the people he was trying so hard to protect.) He's trying just so hard, this poor guy. Whom we definitely do need to stop, because he IS losing this battle for his own sanity, and with it, the stability of the dungeon.

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*singing* eyes eyes eyes eyes...

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Dude, weren't you raised mostly by tallmen? How are you this racist.

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Marcille, I love you. Laios, I love you in a different way.

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Ouch.

LOOK WHO'S TALKING

eyes eyes eyes eyes...

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unironically excited for Thistle to enter his maniacal laughter phase in anime s2.

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I'm fascinated with how this comic portrays the patterns of natural ecological biomes and the patterns of human social structures and history with exactly the same tone. The behaviors of animals and monsters and humans. The psychological profile of a dungeon lord and the corresponding life cycle of a dungeon. I want to eat it. I want to put an ecologist, an anthropologist and a political scientist in a room together with this comic, and listen to them talk about it. I want to kiss Ryoko Kui on the mouth. I don't want to do my chores, go to bed and then go to work, but unfortunately life SUCKS that way. Motherfucker why is it 1am again.

[deblklesb]

Maybe reader goes into a full autistic/neurodivergent shutdown and Abby helps reader?

(disclaimer: I'll describe it based on my personal experience with shutdowns and also on what I've seen some people sharing. not all autistic people have the same experience, please keep that in mind)

i just KNOW abby would be so so supportive and caring with you!

like depending on the au she could have more or less knowledge about autism, i think doctor!abby could have more experience after appointments with autistic patients and etc. (she went out of her way to learn more in order to create a better experience to them), but either way would first and foremost ask you in simple questions about what you need, as in presenting options for you that doesn't need too much to think about.

"Want me to stay with you?"

"Hey, I brought water for you, babe. I'll leave the bottle in the bedside table"

"You need to eat, bun. I'll bring something for you okay?"

She'll get your favorite food. And if there's none in the house (most of the times you don't run out of your comfort food, but anything can happen) she calls for some delivery - she's not leaving you the first times because she doesn't know what you might need.

The lights bother you even more in shutdowns, so she'll have just one light on in the house, maybe the bathroom because it's central, or the kitchen because it's farther from your room. Sometimes you like to watch your favorite show or favorite movie on and on, so she tries not to interrupt.

There are times when you specifically ask her to stay with you, and so she does. If working next to you it's okay, she can lay down by your side and do some, just the very necessary, before giving you her undivided attention. At this point she also knows some lines of the movies, and so she repeats them along and laughs with you.

Abby is a-okay with being your personal weight blanket. Sometimes you just need her to lay on top of you, between your legs, and she stays there happily. You love how warm she is, and that she lets you stim caressing her skin and making braids on her hair over and over.

Once you got months without a shutdown, so when it came it made you so frustrated and nervous. Abby got home to find you laying on the floor due to the very hot day, face swollen with tear trails, only panties on your body; your skin was directly in contact with the cold ground as you looked at the TV.

"Hey, babe", she said, putting the keys on the table. When you didn't answer, she left her bag at the corridor and took out the shoes, coming closer. She crouched next to you, noticing how you weren't looking at her. "Bun? Are you okay?"

You just shook your head, still looking at the TV. Silent, you pulled your phone closer and wrote on the notes app.

The day was shit. it's too hot so i was sweating all the time and I'm already feeling like crap. my boss was so fucking stupid, he doesn't know how to maintain a good work place and just acts like all ableism is just jokes between co-workers when i distinctively told him it's affecting my job. I can't punch that motherfucker of coworker in the face because i would be fired and i need the job. and on top of all of that, traffic was hell, people kept honking all the time up and down, the chatting in the bus sounded louder than usual and i think my body doesn't want to stay together anymore because of this godforsaken heat.

Her blue eyes, bathed by the cool LED of the TV, wandered around the screen as she read you rant. And then she was seating there, not too close but enough for you to feel her presence.

"I'm so so sorry, bun", she whispered, not touching you. Your feet were brushing against each other, since the sensation soothed you, and the open window let the smallest wind come inside the apartment. "Have you eaten?"

I haven't been able to get up after i showered

"Okay. I'll go take a shower myself and then I'll make us something to eat, alright?"

She was next to you all the time that night. She didn't ask you nothing the whole time, just putting the food for you and then sitting there on the floor so you could eat together. Abby didn't come too close because she knew the temperature wasn't ideal and you both didn't had the money to get an air-conditioning yet, she just stated that you could come to her when you felt comfortable to do so and offered her hand to be held in the mean time.

After an impossible to count amount of time, you rested your head on her thigh, still quiet and watching the cartoon.

"Oh my God, Dooffenschmirtz' building looks so much like Ferb. Like, the shape... I never noticed that before", she muttered more to herself, but the fact brought a chuckle out of you. And as simple as it was, it made her chest a little bit warmer; to see you slowly relaxing and regulating.

"Do you want to sleep on our bed or here on the living room, babe?" She asked after a long time, because it was getting late and soon you'd have to sleep.

The living room was cooler than your room, and the mattress could be so hot during the night you'd wake up all sweaty and sticky - if the heat during the day was painful, waking up on drenched sheets would make you so so much worst. And you had that traveling mattress, you could put it on the floor and stay there for the rest of the night, next to the living room window.

"I can stay on the couch so you won't be alone", she added.

I guess I'll sleep here. We can fix the area to be more comfortable. I'll help you.

You stood slowly and the place was soon being organized to better accommodate you both. She got some pillows and thin sheets, you padded the simple mattress and covered the couch with a duvet to make it more comfortable for Abby.

That night she slept with her hand between yours, and you felt so grateful for having someone that would be with you through those times. You kept caressing her hand with your thumb because the stim was soothing you, untill you fell asleep with some cool wind coming from the restless city night.

[triplesilverstar]

There are better ways to rest

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI 

Pairing: Knives X F!Reader

CW: Sick, rough oral, dom/sub undertones, Porn w plot 

Word count: Roughly 3.8KA/N: You find yourself sick, and after answering your door find your boyfriend Nai there to see you. Even after you told Legato to tell him not to come see you. Why do you feel like your day just got so much worse?

You’d woken up feeling like absolute crap, nose stuffed with mucus, throat sore, and ears cracking all the while. Clearly your co-worker that had said she was recovered from her sickness had lied and come back early and now you were left with the results of her poor decision. You’d decided first and foremost to make one damn important phone call and fished your phone out from under your pillow where it’d fallen. Dialing the number and putting it up to your ear, even though getting the correct contact number had taken a few tries, two rings on your end and a curt voice answered “What?” 

“I’m sick” voice cracking and hoarse, even to your own ears as you try to sit up more. 

“And that is my concern why?” Even in your haze his disinterest in your health is clear, the man has never cared for you, in fact the only person he does care for is the reason for your call. 

“Tell Nai so he doesn’t come see me. I’m not dealing with him being sick while I’m sick you asshole. No, I’m not dealing with a sick Nai at all.” Your throat is hurting even more after getting those words out, but you are not risking your boyfriend coming to see you and getting whatever you had, been there, done that, had the t-shirt. Sure you loved the tough idealistic man, but he was a grumpy, whiny little bitch when sick.

“If the opportunity presents itself I will” you hear a click, and if you didn’t already feel like your skin was on fire you were certain you’d be red in the face. 

“Motherfucker” that had been earlier in the week, a trip to the local clinic had resulted in you getting a week off work and a prescription for rest as well as directions to come back if you didn’t feel better after the week or things got worse. Well really it wasn’t a prescription, more of a rest and take some painkillers if you couldn’t handle the pain otherwise let nature take its course. 

And now, there was someone banging on your apartment door. Someone who was likely to get a threat made on their life, even if you couldn’t follow through with it at the moment. Wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket, hair stuck to your sweat slicked skin you practically slammed the door open. “What!” To find your boyfriend looking at you with one of his eyebrows raised. Well fuck. 

“Is that how you’re going to greet me?” He’s looking down his nose at you, and if you weren’t as debilitated from your sickness as you were you would have noticed his pale blue eyes critically taking in your form. The bags under your eyes, pale sweat soaked skin, inflamed skin around your nose, certainly the picture of health.

“Babe” you find yourself trying to suck air in through your mouth, that brief adrenaline from being abruptly woken from your nap gone from your system. “Hi. And Bye.” You try to close the door in his face before he jams his foot in the gap, pushing it open and making his way inside. “Babe, please.” A loud snort leaves your nose which you know can’t be attractive to the built blond man “I’m sick.”

“Clearly” master of the obvious your lover is, and he is also ignoring you, heading into your kitchen. “When was the last time you ate something that didn’t come from a can?” You are not in the mood for this, you just want to crawl back onto your couch and sleep surrounded by the piles of used kleenex. Fluffy mountains. Fluffy, crusty mountains. 

Squaring your shoulders you take as deep of a breath as you can and adjust the blanket around your frame again “Nai, please. I don’t want you getting sick.” Hopeful the pitiful whine from your throat helps to convince him to just leave you be. Fucking Legato, when you’re better you are going to shove a pipe up his fucking ass, how hard would it have been for him to just tell Nai you were sick and didn’t want to see him. As you stare at him on your shaky legs you finally notice something, he’d brought a take out bag with him. 

“I won’t get sick. Given your usual unremarkable level of self care I decided to come and ensure you’re taking care of yourself.” Great, Legato did tell him but clearly left the warning off that you didn’t want to see him. “Now come sit down, you’re shaking” at his words you notice the fact you are trembling and slowly drag yourself over and slump on the counter level chair. Watching him unpack the bag with careful precision, then again in your fever-addled brain, everything Nai does is precise. 

Even sitting there is hard for your body, shaking and shivering “Nai, please. I love that you care enough to check on me. But please. I really don’t want you getting sick because of me.” Your gasping for air at the end, voice hoarse and scratchy from the mucus that built up in your head, and thankfully not dumb enough to utter that you are not taking care of him if he does. A steaming bowl of chicken soup slides in front of you, and from the look of it, it should be delicious, too bad you can’t smell or taste shit. Glancing up, you see him looming above you, face flat and arms crossed. 

“Eat” one word, a simple command, and you find yourself following his order, the hot liquid feeling wonderful at the back of your throat. “I have a few more containers I'll leave in your fridge that you can reheat as required. Honestly, what would you do without me.” You keep eating and watch as he makes a sweep of your apartment, cleaning up whatever pile of chaos you’ve left behind. You aren’t sure how long it takes you to finish, only that the moment you place the spoon down, his presence is back looming over you. “When was the last time you showered?” 

“Yesterday” and by showered, you meant sat under the streaming spray to try and get some relief from the congestion. A hand is placed on your arm, dragging you towards your bedroom and the attached bathroom through your closet. Rough hands ripping the blanket from your body, forcing you to shiver from the sudden chill leaving you in just your sleep shirt and shorts. Watching as Nai’s eyes take in your figure, noting the lack of undergarments as he can clearly make out your pebbled nipples through the fabric. 

“Go have a shower, before I’m forced to bath you myself” his voice has dropped a few octaves forcing another shiver from you. Stumbling your way into the bathroom and stripping along the way, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up as you step inside, the pounding rush of water feeling divine against your aching body. A voice breaks you from your stupor, leaning against the tiles and enjoying the feeling “hurry along, if I have to join you things will not be pleasant.” You groan, but the steam is helping clear your airways somewhat as you clean your skin and hair of the sickness induced grim. Taking his words to heart, you flick the faucet off as soon as the last few suds are gone from your body. 

Curtain jerking away you squeak, jumping on the slick surface and almost tumbling, a towel wrapped around your body and a firm arm keeping you steady. “Honestly woman” mutters from his lips as he drags you from the tub and back into the space between the bathroom and bedroom, drying your skin along the way. “It’s like you want to exhaust yourself and fall.” 

“All I’ve wanted to do since you got here was sleep. What’d you expect?” You should not have said that, his eyes are narrowed staring at you, you are in no condition to be lippy with him. He’s a man capable of horrendous acts of violence, and your impaired brain is digging you a hole. 

“Due to your condition, I'm willing to let that slide.” You don’t have a good hold on the towel around your body, so when his hands release the fabric it slides along your skin before hitting the floor “to an extent.” Back slamming against the drawers you hiss in pain, before a soft moan leaves you pressed against his body one hand fondling your breast, the other trailing up and down your ribs. “I wonder how I’ll punish you my Pet” his breath is hot against your ear, voice husky, a warmth settling in your core from that alone. 

Stepping away from the dresser he pulls you with him, rough palms gripping your chest at the edge of pain making you pant, lungs desperate for oxygen in your sickened state. A bruising grip against your hip, when his mouth descends to press against the soft skin of your neck feather soft lips against the heated skin. A drag of his tongue against your pulse point before you scream, his teeth clamping on the sensitive spot and sucking, your own hands clinging to any part of him you can find to keep yourself from crumpling. The sharp pain replaced by pleasure, the grip against your hip gone as his fingers skim across your pussy, pressing just hard enough to feel the wetness dripping from you. “Are you that desperate for my touch, Pet? Or does the idea of pain get you off?”       

“Please, Nai!” Your voice is getting hoarse again, throat feeling constricted now that you’re away from the steam of the bathroom. Sick or not, your body is thrumming for him, cunt throbbing in need because in truth both things go hand in hand with this man. You’ve always enjoyed being dominated, but before him it was a passing pleasure, now you can’t picture anyone but him using you like a play thing. His answer is to ram a finger past your entrance, thumb pressing harshly against your clit making you moan and almost slump against him. Leaning away from you, you groan as his hand leaves your breast, watching as he looks down his nose at you, before a harsh slap against your ass forces another scream past your lips. 

“You like that, don’t you, my pet?” His voice is low, making you clench around him “I don’t need to hear your words, I can feel your needy cunt trying to pull me in.” You know you’re starting to drool, barely able to keep your eyes open and on him while your body is torn between wanting to rest and chasing after the flame he’s building in your core.  

Two of his large fingers are curled inside you, pumping leisurely against your walls, eyes hooded watching your face as you gasp, fingers digging into the skin of his arm trying to keep yourself upright. “I won’t lie. I did come here with an alternative motive. I wanted to watch you writhe under me, unable to do anything but take the pleasure I’m forcing your body to endure while I use you.” His gaze is almost tender, free hand reaching up to press his thumb against your bottom lip. “But now? After seeing you like this, I want a different set of lips wrapped around my cock.” A jolt passes through your core at his words, his hand wrenched from your slick folds and forcing you on your knees, face pressed harshly against his crotch, feeling him twitching through the fabric of his pants.

A soft whine leaves you, desperate for more but after your earlier comment you aren’t foolish enough to reach out and undo his belt, not without him telling you to. “Such an obedient pet, I’ll help make you feel better.” There’s a harshness hidden beneath his teasing tone as his large hand keeps your face planted against him, grinding his groin against you. At the sound of his belt being undone you glance up, eyes flicking to meet his, looking at you like a feral animal about to pounce. “Undo my button and zipper.” It's soft from his lips, but you know a command from him when you hear it. Hand reaching up to glide along his thigh feeling the tight muscles beneath, fingers deftly working the button, not breaking eye contact as you slowly drag the piece of metal down, panting against him. 

Your cheek is keeping the fabric in place, a hum of approval leaving him and a smirk “good girl” the pressure against your head is lifted enough for you to pull away, so he can push the fabric down his legs before grinding against your face again. The damp stain against the tented fabric is vivid to your eyes and you feel your mouth watering even more, the heat against your face more intense now causing another throb to pulse between your legs. “Open your mouth” you’re almost disgusted with yourself for how quickly you drop your jaw, feeling him reposition your head so the soaked silk at the tip is pressed against your open lips. “Now suck” right away the taste of precum assaults your senses, pulled from the fabric that is clinging to him. Fuck you wish you had something in your pussy to clench around. His soft groans reach your ears, clearly enjoying himself. It’s getting harder to pull air into yourself while sucking, the fabric adding to the difficulty. 

All at once you’re roughly pulled away taking advantage to pull in the much needed oxygen, Nai roughly pushing his boxers to the ground before you're pulled against him again, tip pressed to your lips and using his hand as a guide forcing you to the base. A grunt passing his lips, tears forming against your lashes as his hand keeps you there, nose buried in the almost white hairs. Almost at your limit he pulls back, until the tip is all that remains, letting you swirl your tongue along the head, the rough treatment having partially cleared your nasal passages allowing you to somewhat breath. Pressing your tongue into his slit, a jolt from him sliding more of him into your mouth. “Such a good pet.” His words of praise adding to the slick dripping from you, and you hollow your cheeks sucking hard against him with small bobs. His fingers have tangled in your hair now, controlling your movement to a degree. Pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of him, glancing up in time to watch a smirk light up his face, shoving you down his length to the base again. All you can see are the muscles of his abs twitching, while you’re gagging around him the tip against the back of your throat. 

You can’t see it, but he’s looking down at you loving the sight of your debauched face, tears streaming down your face making his balls tighten. “Breath through your nose pet” bringing his free hand down to cradle your face tenderly, thumb brushing against the liquid pouring from your eyes. What’d he give to keep you like this forever, throat working his dick wonderfully while your body is starting to panic around him. He’ll never tell you the hold you have on him. Pulling you back again, fully away this time to take great heaving lungfuls of air. Ensuring you’re watching him as he takes the digit that had so gently wiped away your tears in his mouth, moaning around it “delicious pet.”

He seems to be watching you, trying to gauge when you’re ready for more before pressing his tip to your lips again, using your hair like a lease to control how deep he’ll let you take him. “You can touch me, but no using your hands to speed this up” as soon as the words are out of his mouth your hands are pressing against his thighs, flexing under your fingers, as you glide up and down his length humming all the while. You're shivering, unsure if it’s from the sickness plaguing your body or his cock throbbing in your mouth from your actions. The grip on your hair loosens further and you take the chance to slide your hands from his thighs to grip his firm buttcheeks, using them to stabilize yourself as you force yourself down to his base and back up to the tip in long, slow, languid movements. A pleasant burn at the back of your throat from the controlled way you’re shoving his entire length into you. The groans and grunts leaving him are pulling your own release closer, knowing it’s you bringing those sounds from him.      

The grip on your hair tightens again, forcing you to stay in place mewing this time at the sudden regain of control and a layer of sweat breaking out across your skin as his tip bruises the back of your throat. Pulling you away again a thick line of spit connecting your lips to his throbbing member. Eyes narrowing, he’s staring hard at you now his cock twitching in the cool air around him “drop your hands pet. I’m going to fuck your mouth and you’re going to enjoy every bit of it” this time you don’t do exactly as he’s said letting them trail down along the back of his legs enjoying just the feel of him beneath your hands. A maniac glint flashes in his eyes “that little act of rebellion is going to cost you” putting your mouth back around his cock he wastes no time setting a brutal pace fucking your warm mouth, and all you can do is take it. Forcing you to take him so roughly that you feel like he’s shoving himself down your windpipe, a symphony of grunts and groans spilling from his lips, as well as the occasional praise of how well you take him. Drool is starting to pour from the sides of your mouth dripping onto your thighs, both of his hands holding your face as he bucks into you, you're desperate to cum but don’t dare move your hands to satisfy yourself. A fresh round of tears both from the pain and frustration that you can’t bring yourself any relief. 

It isn’t long before your throat is starting to feel raw from the rough treatment, trying to distract yourself, you stare at his face taking in his appearance. The normally spiked up bangs starting to fall forward, a line of sweat forming on his hairline from his efforts, pale eyes narrowed but still sharp, teeth clenched between his slightly parted lips. A smirk gracing his lips once he catches your eyes “I’m going to cum pet. I expect you to swallow every. Last. Drop.” His final words are each punctuated with a hard thrust to the back of your throat, a brief stuttering of his hips before the grip on your head is bruising, pulling you hard enough to flatten your nose against the muscles above his cock, lips stretched around the base of him. You’re gagging as the thick ropes of cum fill your airway, writhing against his hands to no avail, forced to try and swallow everything he’s pumping into you, and with the angle you have no choice but to if you don’t want to choke on his seed.

His grip relaxes, cupping one of your cheeks as you pull yourself off him, coughing against one of your hands. “How are you feeling, pet?” His voice is tender in his post orgasm haze, and you find yourself smiling up at him.

“Like I can breathe for the first time in days.” He’s nodding before releasing you and heading into your bathroom, kicking the clothes tangled around his legs off, taking deep breaths with your eyes closed and you hear the sink faucet running. After that you’re ready to curl up in bed, a warm damp cloth pressed against your face, roughly wiping at your mouth. 

“At least you followed directions in the end. I would have had to get more creative if you failed to swallow everything.” Face cleaned he’s pulling one of your drawers open and throwing a clean set of sleepwear at you, pulling out one of his clean pairs of boxers kept at your place. Eyes open you notice his cock has been wiped clean of your drool, pulling your shirt and shorts on is a struggle, an annoyed huff leaving Nai as he assists you. “You can’t even get dressed without my assistance, you helpless thing.” Now letting you lean against his body on your way to your bed you smile, Nai tucking you in with a parting shot “Try and take better care of yourself, I have a better use for my time then looking after you.” 

“Thank you Nai” tumbles softly from your lips as your exhaustion starts to overtake you, you think you imagine a soft press of his lips to your forehead and a whisper of your welcome followed by your name. You wake up hours later sore and exhausted still, but two bottles of water are beside you on your nightstand with some painkillers and a note. In true Nai fashion it’s directions on reheating the different soups he’s left in your fridge, and no cute little love note. 

By the following week you feel right as rain, a skip in your step, and Nai’s favorite bottle of wine tucked under your arm. Trust your boyfriend to have expensive tastes, but you figured the bottle would be a better thank you gift than just saying thanks for coming to see me and shoving your dick down my throat. Knocking on the door and trying to put on your best sexy smile for him. A smile that drops when the door opens and you take one look at him, hair soaked with sweat and falling in his eyes, a giant oversized hoodie wrapped around his frame. “Oh hell no Babe” You force the bottle into his free arm and step back well out of his reach, a look of confusion painted across it. “I said I didn’t want to get you sick. This is not a me problem” you turn wiping your hands against one another while he calls out after you. 

You fish your phone from your purse and dial a familiar number “What?” 

“Remember last week, when I told you I wasn’t taking care of Nai if he got sick?” You do your best to keep the joy from your voice. 

“What doe-”

You quickly cut the blue haired man off “Nai’s sick, and while I had planned on shoving a pipe up your ass, I think I'll enjoy this even more. Now go look after your boss, Asshole!” You take great joy in hearing the panic on the other end of the phone before ending the call. If Nai remembers you walking away from him you’ll be in for a round of punishment from him later, but nothing is worse than looking after him when he’s sick.

This one shot then prompted more ideas that turned into my Knives X reader series.

Hope you enjoyed it!

[lovebillyhargrove]

Tommy Hagan is a simple guy. Hawkins born and bred, knows this town like lifelines on the palm of his hand. College after graduating high school? Nah, not for him. He's gonna work in his dad's local business. Farm machinery. He's fine with that. One day he'll definitely be Hawkins Mayor, and Miss Carol Perkins will be his wife. Been dating this girl for three years now.

His friends? He knows everyone, and everyone knows him here. However, his best friend is Steve Harrington, something of a Hawkins elite. Tommy doesn't care about the status, he's known Steve for ages, went to daycare in diapers with him for god's sake. So many toys played with, places around Hawkins visited together. So many parties held, cigarettes smoked, things gossiped about, fights fought and memories shared. So much booze drunk, always together.

Best friends forever. They literally know everything about one another. Seen each other's junk like a thousand times. Swimming pools, locker rooms, you know how it happens.

Tommy's got a secret that's he's never ever going to reveal, to anyone. He loves his girlfriend. Crazy about that snarky bitch. The way she pops her gum and rolls her eyes, man. Totally gonna propose to her one day.

The secret though? Well .. First and foremost, he's no homo all the way. It's just that sometimes he thinks that his feelings for Steve are not purely of friendly nature.

A crush ?? Come on, that's not .. Don't say it like that, dude.

Harrington has always had so many girlfriends. A real motherfucking heartbreaker. Looks so good, has money to burn, and daddy gave him the poshest car. Only lately Steve has started seeing that Wheeler princess. Tommy hates her. A perfect student, a good girl. Fucking good alright. Turning Harrington into a pussy-whipped spineless loser. If you ask Tommy, she's got him on a pussy-diet.

A harringrove au where Billy is still to move to Hawkins. Everything is fine before he storms in here, like a fucking hurricane. Tommy has everything under control, exactly until the moment when Hargrove's blue camaro rolls into Hawkins High parking lot.

*couldn't choose the moodboard i like better

To be continued

[intersexalastor]

How are we feeling after this week's leaks?

Bad. Though I always knew that Horikoshi would pull a Kishimoto and that bnha is copganda first and foremost, I still didn't quite expect that he'd be so obvious with it.

So far, no one has actually been confirmed "saved." Dabi is dying, except instead of on the battlefield, he's going out the slow way, permanently fixed to a hospital bed where he'll wade out the remainder of his stagnant life as it trickles out of him day by day. I do not care about the heart monitor, and I do not care about the rest of his family. I'm officially sick of the other kids and Rei in canon.

Endeavor never suffers any real consequences. We're made to think he does, of course, because he's endured severe injuries. But isn't it oh-so-convenient that society does not need to reckon or hold him accountable/make an example of their no. 1 hero? Society doesn't need to actually sit down and hash out what needs to be done about their super star pro being a domestic abuser and eugenicist. The story can easily wipe its hands of the mess that is Endeavor's character.

And let's not forget about Twice, whose murderer is now president of the lil organization that ordered the deaths of who knows how many. Yet another motherfucker who does not suffer any consequences for his actions. And while at least Endeavor admits that what he did was wrong, Hawks never has. He orders the death of Toga, and no one has said anything about it. He's not reflected on it other than to say how cool Twice was. Twice, whose double wished Hawks death in his last moments in Toga's arms. (And I could get into how Twice's blood + Toga pretty much had zero impact, but then I'd lose my mind.)

Let's not even fucking mention how dog of the state Nagant is being let out of prison L-O-Fucking-L.

What can I say? It's cop propaganda. Hawks is a murder who got rewarded and Endeavor is the shit at the bottom of Horikoshi's shoe that he's wiping off the in the grass and hope no one notices the smell.

I cannot wait for this manga to be over and for all the hawks and co. fans to fuck off so the rest of us can sit, talk shit about how stupid this story is, and sexualize the villains in peace lmao. I'll still be here writing and thinking about dabitwice and talking mad shit about