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cryptidcasanova · 4 months

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Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

#mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the carriage scene #bucky barnes #lover boy

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plounce · 7 months

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researching stuff for a post about misinformation regarding girl scout cookies and man this article (10/28/23) about this palestinian-american girl scout nearly made me burst into tears

In her short 17 years on earth, Amira Ismail had never been called a baby killer.

That’s what happened one Friday this month, Amira said, on New York City’s Q58 bus, which runs through central Queens.

“This lady looked at me, and she was like: ‘You’re disgusting. You’re a baby killer. You’re an antisemite,’” Amira told me. When she talked about this incident, her signature spunk faded. “I just kept saying, ‘That’s not true,’” she said. “I was just on my way to school. I was just wearing my hijab.”

Amira was born in Queens in the years after the Sept. 11 attacks. She remembers participating as a child in demonstrations at City Hall as part of a successful movement to make Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha school holidays in New York City.

But since the Oct. 7 attack by Hamas, in which an estimated 1,400 Israelis were killed and some 200 others were kidnapped, Amira, who is Palestinian American, said she has experienced for the first time the full fury of Islamophobia and racism that her older relatives and friends have told stories about all her life. Throughout the city, in fact, there has been an increase in both anti-Muslim and antisemitic attacks.

In heavily Muslim parts of Queens, she said, police officers are suddenly everywhere, asking for identification and stopping and frisking Muslim men. (New York City has stepped up its police presence around both Muslim and Jewish neighborhoods and sites within the five boroughs.) Most painful though, she said, is the sense that she and her peers are getting that Palestinian lives do not matter, as they watch the United States staunchly back Israel as it heads into war.

“It can’t go unrecognized, the thousands of Palestinians that have been murdered in the past two weeks and even more the past 75 years,” Amira said. “There’s no way you can erase that.” That does not mean she is antisemitic, she said. “How can I denounce one system of oppression without denouncing another?” she asked me. The pain in her usually buoyant voice cut through me. I had no answer for her.

Many New York City kids have a worldliness about them, a certain telltale moxie. Amira, a joyful, sneaker-wearing, self-described “Queens kid,” can seem unstoppable.

When she was just 15, Amira helped topple a major mayoral campaign in America’s largest city, writing a letter accusing the ultraprogressive candidate Dianne Morales of having violated child labor laws while purporting to champion the working class in New York.

“My life and my extremely bright future as a 15-year-old activist will not be defined by the failures and harm enabled by Dianne Morales,” Amira wrote in the 2021 letter, which went viral and helped end Ms. Morales’s campaign. “I wrote my college essay about that,” Amira told me with a slightly mischievous smile.

In the past two years, Amira has become a veteran organizer. Last weekend, she joined an antiwar protest. First, though, she’ll have to work on earning her latest Girl Scout badge, this one for photography. That will mean satisfying her mother, Abier Rayan, who happens to be Troop 4179’s leader. “She’s tough,” Amira assured me.

At a meeting of the Muslim Girl Scouts of Astoria last week, a young woman bounded into the room, asking whether her fellow scouts had secured tickets to an Olivia Rodrigo concert. “She’s the Taylor Swift of our generation,” the scout turned to me to explain.

A group of younger girls recited the Girl Scout Law:

“I will do my best to be honest and fair, friendly and helpful, considerate and caring, courageous and strong, and responsible for what I say and do, and to respect myself and others, respect authority, use resources wisely, make the world a better place and be a sister to every Girl Scout.”

Amira’s mother carefully inspected the work of some of the younger scouts; she wore a blue Girl Scouts U.S.A. vest, filled with colorful badges, and a hot-pink hijab. “It’s no conflict at all,” Ms. Rayan told me of Islam and the Girl Scouts. “You want a strong Muslim American girl.”

At the Girl Scouts meeting, Amira and her friends discussed their plans to protest the war in Gaza. “Protests are where you let go of your anger,” Amira told me.

Amira’s mother was born in Egypt. In 1948, Ms. Rayan told me, her grandfather lost his home and land in Jaffa to the state of Israel. At the Girl Scout meeting, Ms. Rayan was still waiting for word that relatives in Gaza were safe.

“There’s been no communication,” she said. When I asked about Amira, Ms. Rayan’s eyes brightened. “I’m really proud of her,” she said. “You have to be strong. You don’t know where you’re going to be tomorrow.”

By Monday, word had reached Ms. Rayan that her relatives had been killed as Israel bombed Gaza City. When I asked whom she had lost, Ms. Rayan replied: “All of them. There’s no one left.” Thousands of Palestinians are estimated to have been killed by Israeli airstrikes in Gaza in recent weeks. ... Ms. Rayan said those killed in her family included six cousins and their children, who were as young as 2. Other relatives living abroad told her the cousins died beneath the rubble of their home.

As Ms. Rayan spoke, I saw Amira’s young face. I wondered how long this bright, spirited Queens kid could keep her fire for what I believe John Lewis would have called “good trouble” in a world that seems hellbent on snuffing it out. I worried about how she would finish her college applications.

“I have a lot of angry emotions at the ones in charge,” Amira told me days ago, speaking for so many human beings around the world in this dark time.

I thought about what I had seen over that weekend in Brooklyn, where thousands gathered in the Bay Ridge neighborhood, the home of many Arab Americans, to protest the war. In this part of the city, people of many backgrounds carried Palestinian flags through the street. Large groups of police officers gathered on every corner, watching them go by.

The crowd was large but quiet when Amira waded in, picked up her megaphone and called for Palestinian liberation. In an instant, thousands of New Yorkers repeated after her, filling the Brooklyn street with their voices. My prayer is that Amira’s generation of leaders will leave a better world than the one it has been given.

i believe she recently got her gold award (which, if youve never been in girl scouts, is really difficult - way more difficult than eagle scout awards), or is almost done with it. i hope she's doing okay.

this article (no paywall) about muslim and palestinian girl scout troops in socal also almost made me cry (it's like 2am). i really really hope all these kids are doing alright. god. they and their families all deserve so much better

#chirps

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most-creature-vibe-tournament · 8 months

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FINALS!!!

Propaganda:

Taylor Hebert (Worm (webserial by Wildbow))

Human girl who has superpowers that let her control bugs. She shunts all emotions off into her swarm of bugs, leaving her totally blank and stoic. She outsources sensory-input to her bugs, so she never looks or reacts to anything. In a fight, she reacts to opponents there is no possible way she could see, because she sensed them with her bugs. Overall has virtually no facial tells and moves in a way that makes her seem like she isn't a person. very creature <3 she is just a bug girl

shes such a FREAK. shes completely human (tho with an eldritch alien creature extradimensionally attached to her mind) but God does she not act like it sometimes. she has the superpower to control bugs and uses it to become the worlds most terrifying hero slash villain slash warlord slash apocalyptic threat. she has her bugs crawling all over her all the time. she uses a swarm of flies to scout out areas and then leaves flies in everybodys hair so she can keep track of where they are. she practiced having her bugs make noises until she figured out how to combine their noises into human speech so now she can talk through her swarm. she makes decoys of herself out of large pillars of bugs. once she was concussed and in the hospital and subconsciously calling her bugs to her so she was just covered in insects while the doctor tried to help her. then there was ANOTHER time she was hospitalized and got bored so she made a bunch of bugs so a little dance on her chest. whenever she's in costume and talking she has her bugs make noises to distort her voice and make her sound more scary and she doesnt even realize shes doing it anymore. she surrounds herself in a swarm to disorient her enemies. she doesn't even notice when her hair covers her eyes or anything like that because shes scouting out the area using her bugs so she doesnt have to see. she once used a tide of bugs to clean herself off and dust off her dress after having sex.

#she views herself as more of a swarm of bugs with a girl-shaped computer to control them than a girl herself#her body is just an extension of her bugs which is large and inconvenient but ultimately part of the weapon

#taylor “dissociates into bugs” hebert#taylor “keeps bugs in her hair” hebert#taylor “choke them with bugs” hebert#taylor “no one could ever love me” hebert#taylor “violence is always the answer” hebert

#normally i would want a worm character to win#but#bdubs is a strange little man. he's unusual.#Taylor's just got the 'tism.

she literally is a walking superorganism comprised of one human and a lot more bugs to the point where she frequently moves her head as if she can see through walls (with her bugs, she can), talks through her bugs, has been described like a corpse whose ghost is living on in her swarm, keeps functioning thru her bugs even when her human body is out for the count, et cetera. no disrespect intended but genuinely what in the world are you talking about. She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs. And she thinks it's normal. Because the bugs are part of her. Is this thing on. I reiterate that she literally requires an emotional support cloak of bugs. She is so dissociated from being an actual person that she treats her human body like an inconvenience and her bugs like the primary operators. Is This Thing On.

#now i told myself i wouldnt comment anything on the rb... but#“She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs.” CHAT IS THAT FUCKIN REAL??? IS THAT CANON???#cause if thats just a hc thats wild and i dont know if its better or worse if its canon#propaganda

this is indeed canon! there is a scene where, after fucking her boyfriend in an abandoned building, she stands up and cleans dust/etc off her naked ass body by having her bugs run across her and clean her, which presumably translates to "they are eating the dirt/sweat/etc off her." her boyfriend smiles affectionately at this, because he also has something wrong with him. she also does things like use bugs and spider silk to deliver her toothbrush straight to her hand in the morning while monologuing about "checking in on her hive" (her hive is the people in her villain territory.) she is a walking panopticon. her friends sometimes talk to bugs under the assumption it's taylor watching them and they're always right. at one point she confusedly asks someone if he's arachnophobic because he doesn't want her 10k black widow spiders to live in his apartment with him. she is basically like if a cockroach was a girl. I would never lie to you about Taylor Hebert, Unsung Champion of Polls About Weird Characters.

#taylor ofc#wait hey those are my tags as propaganda!! cool!#i stand by it#anyways yeah one of her main character traits when looked at by an outside perspective is just how WEIRD she is#everyone thinks she's a freak#even when you're reading her POV you sometimes have to stop and be like 'hey girl what the fuck'#one time she put bugs on her boyfriend's dick

She also turns into a bug monster at one point. Not all on her own, but she very much turns into a bug monster. Literally And Physically.

And she uses this to survive like a cockroach, she had Just Been Ripped In Fucking Half and thrown in the ocean to die and BOOM. bug monster transformation (with a little help) climb out and keep fighting, against an opponent so vast and powerful a human couldn't even comprehend his true form (not eldritch cognitohazard, just planet-sized + multidimensional), who could kill her in an instant. She's always surviving against the odds she's so cockroach coded (affectionate!) #@ pollrunner if you're still accepting propaganda please take the 'turns into a bug monster' as propaganda#the rest can be ignored or trimmed to 'she's always surviving she's so cockroach coded' but pleamse. the Time she Became A Bug

#she's such a freak!!!#she kills like it's the only thing she was built how to do#she kills people and things like it's chess and she's a grandmaster#as soon as the violence is off she's just a fucked up offputting little one woman panopticon

One of my favourite descriptions of Taylor from someone else's POV, from Interlude 14.

“The disconcerting part was the girl’s face, or lack thereof. Her expression was masked behind a shifting mass of bugs that moved in and out of her hairline. Sierra couldn’t even tell where the bugs ended and the scalp began, as the small black bodies crawled into and onto the black curls. There was a hint of something like glass where Skitter’s eyes were, but the bugs ventured far enough over her eyelids and around the frames that nothing was visible in the way of goggles, glasses or skin.”

“Skitter hadn’t made a sound as she entered. She hadn’t spoken, and her footsteps had been quiet.”

#taylor “driving while blind wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be” hebert#taylor “hangs out in superpowered darkness for a long time without being at all worried” hebert#taylor “fools a near-perfect lie detecting hero by offloading her emotions on her bugs” hebert#taylor “figures out how to communicate with the Dog Autism girl like right away” hebert

#taylor hebert kill them with your self-sustained insectoid dehumanity!

Jonny d’Ville (The Mechanisms)

Since we’re not technically human

He’s so feral hes canonically committed every single crime theres a name for i think he deserves to have a tail that flicks around when hes being mischevous. perhaps some horns or fangs as well. as a treat

Idk why but he's a feral creature

Have you seen the man? Especially in that one picture where he is fully on the wall.

absolutely no canon implications that he isn't human, but that man* absolutely has a tail. and sharp teeth. and creature ears. he purrs but he pretends he doesn't and if you bring it up he'll bite you. he's had rabies more times than you can count.

#Just sayin#Johnny eats people and says it's not cannibalism if you aren't human

#DID LYF SING THE PART IN SLEEPING BEAUTY? NO. VOTE JONNY

#Jonny’s a creature#vote Jonny

#sorry for that Hermitfans but my boy Jonny is feral and i think he is a creature

#chat vote jonny#HES LITERALLY JUST A LITTLE CRITTER PLEASE

#look at that face#he’s a creacher

#it's jonny d'ville i don't have any more to say

All crimes but sex crimes, because Jonny isn’t a MONSTER

#JONNY#i'm so sorry pearl you are too well adjusted for this#he's got devil in his name#(that he gave himself because he's a huge fucking nerd)

#LITERALLY LOOK AT HIM THE GREMLIN ENERGY IS OFF THE CHARTS

#voted jonny for the rabies

also. hold up. the pearl propaganda is saying to vote for her because she's an alien and a bloodthirsty fighter? BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU ABOUT JONNY FUCKING D'VILLE

five am pearl this five am pearl that, jonny's just like that all the time

#please vote jonny. i know we're pitting two bad bitches against each other but jonny has tried to eat a guitar

#CMON GUYS VOTE JONNY D’VILLE HES SUCH A CREATURE#HAVE YOU SEEN HIM??? HAVE YOU HEARD HIM TALK ABOUT THE OCTOKITTENS???#VOTE JONNY

#Jonny is such a creature

#jonny is literally THE creature

#come on vote Jonny that thing is creachur incarnate#and he can sing#his fave food is human flesh and more violence

Jonny man entire existence is teeth claws belts and trauma

#that guy is so feral#just vote jonny#also there was this one time where he found a half dead dude on the moon and brang it home to show to his gay pirate friends#just sayin#and also this harmonica solo over his father's dead body in one eyed jacks#iconic#anyway vote jonny

#literally jonny bites people and eats them regularly

#taylor hebert #worm web serial #jonny d'ville #the mechanisms #final round #tumblr polls #polls #creatures fight!

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papil0nglegs · 7 days

Note

Can I request tf2 mercs with a reader who is genuinely terrifying. Like there quiet, sneaky, uncanny, basically reader is kinda like the mercs very own cryptid. (Bonus points if reader is tall af<3)

Boo 🤍

A/n: Spy’s is a little short here 😣 I hope you weren’t too eager to see his lol. I got a little experimental with this one, not too much tho. Also I’ll be going on another break, I know I just finished one but I’m going through an unexpected rough time rn. So sorry guys, hope you enjoy <33

Warnings: Video used may be a spoiler for s2 of scream queens, Praying is used in a humorous light

To start things off, you introduced yourself in the worst way possible. The bus that you were supposed to take got broken down so you had to find your way through the base without knowing where the entrance was. So what’d you do? Bang into a bunch of glass windows at 3am while it was RAINING. Some of the mercs were up trying to fix up the power generator and..

I saved that clip for weeks I’m so happy I have a reason to use it now

I know they’re all supposed to be big bad mercs but you scared the living FUCK out of them.

Scout

This man went running. He went all the way from the generator to the fucking bunks in the span of a minute! So what’d he do when he got to his room? He grabbed his cross necklace, got on his knees, and started PRAYING.

“Please god Jesus frickin’ Christ hear my prayers, save me-I’m sorry about all those magazines I keep under my bunk and I’m sorry that I told spy to go fuck himself when he told me I couldn’t pull bitches and I’m sorry I call girls bitches please just don’t let me friggin’ die dude!!”

He just kept chanting the same things until Miss Pauling found him cradling himself on his bed with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Scout what are you doing?”

“THERE IS A GHOST IN THE BASE.”

“Oh, you mean y/n?”

‘Hi 👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️’

Yea he was pretty freaked out by you. To make it worse, you always just stare at him. He can’t remember a single moment where he looked at you and didn’t catch your tiny pupils locked onto him.

At first he’d just gently wave awkwardly while you did the same so freakishly. Eventually he decided to say something because it was scaring him, something he’ll never admit

“Yo you got a problem or somethin’, what’s with all the stares?”

“Nothing, I just like looking at you. Your structure pleases me.”

“..oh, well that’s actually-wait I thought-hold on do you really-pfft-Yeesh, I didn’t expect you out of everyone to haha.. Yknow”

Yeah he was blushing like crazy, such a straightforward compliment.

He’s still scared of you, but he uses you as his hype man every now and then. He’ll fish for compliments and WILL receive them

“Dontcha think I got some nice racks for a guy?”

“..Totally”

He could literally walk up to you and threaten to kill you and your reaction is just “yuh go for it”

If you’re freakishly tall then he calls you tree. Cuz

If you’re on the shorter side then he would just pick you up from the shoulders and kiss you on the forehead. He knows you won’t do shit, you’re literally just 🧍‍♀️

Engineer

He didn’t even notice everyone else went running, he just kept on working on the electrical box. So when he stood up and saw you staring straight into the glass, he jumped a little but was mostly just confused

“What in the..”

“tap tap-Can you let me in?”

You’re lucky he didn’t go running like everyone else, you probably would’ve died from the flu if you spent another second outside in the freezing rain.

He puts a bell on you. He just had one laying around and tied it around the your wrist, it didn’t work because of how stiff your movements were so to ‘help’ you rang it against his ear.

“..”

“…..🔔🔔🔔🔔”

“GOD DAMN IT- oh, y/n”

“Sorry, the bell wasn’t ringing how you wanted it to so I rang it myself”

“Uh-huh, thanks for the warning partner”

From my experience southern people love to make conversation, but you aren’t really familiar with that. So when he tries to flirt it gets pretty awkward

“How’s it goin’ sugar, I reckon your looking quite nice today”

“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️”

“..you gonna say anythin’ back?”

“Oh, um.. I like your face.”

“Woah, alright then.”

He feels so embarrassed when he stands next to your tall ass, it makes him feel belittled. Especially when you actively have to look down just to make eye contact

But if you’re short then he loves it. Finally for once he doesn’t have to be reminded of his height when standing next to anyone.

Spy

He’s gone as soon as you show up. Like straight up disappears. He doesn’t like to show fear-makes him look weak

He’s convinced you could still see him though, cuz you happen to look in his direction even while he was invisible.

You don’t scare him as much as the others, if anything he took a bit of a liking to you because you stressed him out the least compared to the others. He always stood next to you + you were always his first pick for missions

You always make small talk with him. He doesn’t enjoy it but he still responds

“What is under your mask?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Why? Do you look like me?”

Spy doesn’t know if he should feel offended or annoyed

You don’t necessarily startle him like everyone else but you do make his heart jump slightly when you pop out of nowhere, you can see it in his pupils but never his body.

Pyro

HE RAN TOO BUT DIDN’T KNOW WHY LMFAO

He just saw everyone running and went ‘oh okay we’re doing this now 🏃‍♂️’

But seriously, he fell in love with you at first sight. Your features felt so intricate to him, you always gave each other blank stares, zoning into each other’s eyes.

‘⚫️ ⚫️’

“👁️‍🗨️👁️‍🗨️ hi”

“⚫️ ⚫️ mmf”

You’re the only person who can fully understand him. No, not using his body language, you can actually tell what he’s saying. He aw’s at that, finally someone knows what he’s saying.

It makes him more self aware than how he was before, he’ll say some really petty shit and when you react he panics

“Mmph mmm”

“um pyro I need you to calm yourself”

“Mm!”

Somehow you disturb HIM, you’ll point something out to him and talk to him like he’s crazy which makes him crazy

“Pyro, you reek of fire, it’s 30° outside, and it’s a cease day. Do you have any thoughts?”

“Mmmf mmm mph ☹️”

*plz leave me alone

Since you and him are so observant, the rest of the mercs are a little spooked by you guys. You’ll be in the corner with him watching and everyone is fairly weirded out.

“Mm mmmfmm mm”

“Pyro you’re hilarious.”

“What did thing say?”

“He said that if you were a littlest pet shop figure you’d be #508”

“..heavy is not sure what he expected”

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 #engineer x reader #scout x reader #spy x reader #x reader

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riku-izanami · 4 days

Text

Costume chaos intermissions pt. Whatever it is I don't keep track

Pyrrha, accompanied a mysterious woman, casually walked through the halls of Beacon Academy towards her dorm. Turning heads and making a certain heiress freak the fuck out.

Pyrrha: *turning to the mysterious woman, and smiling brightly* I'm so happy you've come to visit, Maki!

The woman, now called Maki, turned to her and a smile ever present on her face

Maki: of course, It's not often i get to spend time with my little sister.

She patted Pyrrha's head, nakig the spartan blush.

Pyrrha: Maki! I'm not five anymore

Maki: *still smiling* I know, but you're still my little sister. * Her face shifted(finally) to sort of questioning one* Could you tell me about your teammates again, I wanna be sure I have the whole picture?

Pyrrha nodded and started describing her teammates

Pyrrha: Well, there's Ren. He is fairly silent, often seen as the ninja of our merry band by others. But he's patient and an excellent cook.

Maki nodded wordless

Pyrrha: then there's Nora.......She very....energic to say the least....

Maki: I see..

Pyrrha: And finally, there's Jaune. And honestly, what can I say about him. He's sweet, caring, the first person to not see me as a champion buy rather a normal girl...

Maki: *her unsettling smile returned as she watched Pyrrha prattle on about Jaune*

Pyrrha: and he also wears this cute bunny onside at and its.....Oh sorry, I lost track of time

Maki: no worries dear sister *she stops in front of the team Jnpr dorm* Is this the place

Pyrrha nodded as a loud crash was heard from within

Maki: *puzzled face* what was that?

Pyrrha: *completely unphased* Oh it's nothing. Nora's probably just hyper off sugar or opened an inter-dimensionary portal again

Maki stared at Pyrrha when she heard the last part' an eyebrow raised.

Pyrrha: *shrugging with an uneasy smile* It....happens sometimes....

Opening the door, they find Ren & Jaune still wrestling on the floor with still Nora recording. Jaune still in his sailor moon costume, tho with slight cuts and tears here and there

Ren: SAILOR PLUTO IS THE DIVINE HARMONY THAT SHALL PROPELL MAN TO THE STARS

Jaune: USAGI IS THE ONE TRUTH YOU HERETIC!

Nora: *finally noticing her teammate and her guest* Oh hey Pyrrha

On que the boys stop their fighting and look at the spartan.

Ren: oh....hey pyrrha....*looking at Maki* and pyrrha's guest

Jaune: *completely ignore maki* Hey Pyrrha, can we get your opinion on who the best sailor scout is?

Pyrrha:....*drool*

Jaune: *raising an eyebrow* umm are you ok?

Maki: * her unsettling smile return* I happen to fancy Sailor Mars myself.

Jaune: *nodded, slowly pulled himself up, & straightened out his skirt* I see, I see. A safe opinion, but still valid.

Ren: * stand up as well* and sailor Pluto isn't?

Jaune: *to ren* silence heretic! * Back to Maki, he extended a hand* hi, I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc, short sweet and ladies...

Maki didn't fully catch the last part as she stared at Jaune. His blonde hair, goofy smile, and attitude reminded her of a certain puppy she met long ago.

Jaune: So how do you know Pyrrha Ms....

Maki: *her unsettling smile grew wider* Makima.....just Makima will do~

___________________________________________

The ending reveal, if you could call it that was based off of a few stories I read with the same idea.

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #lie ren #costume chaos #chainsaw man #makima

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heauxvibez · 5 months

Text

Born Again Virgin III

warning: none, enjoy!

"I'm not sure I can handle this," Amaia whimpered, sinking into Micah's embrace.

Micah held her close, gently stroking her back, offering what comfort she could to her friend who was clearly feeling sexually frustrated.

"But it's only been a few hours," she murmured, pulling Amaia's head to her chest.

"You don't get it. This guy is not just fine. He's like, f-i-o-n-e fine," Amaia explained.

"Wow, that fine?" Micah exclaimed.

Amaia sat up, reaching for her phone on the table. She scrolled through Google images until she found a picture of Roman.

Passing the phone to Micah, she watched as her friend gasped at the sight.

"Oh, Maia. I'll pray for you, girl. You weren't kidding about him being fine. He's definitely something," Micah remarked.

Amaia sighed, snatching her phone back. Micah could sense the weight of the situation. Amaia was committed to her vow of abstinence, and if she broke it, it would hit her hard.

"How about this," Micah suggested, swiftly taking the phone and securing it before placing it back on the table.

She interlocked her fingers, her eyes gleaming with a plan.

"Why don't you slip into something cozy, and then we can binge-watch some Martin?"

"Really?" Amaia's voice sparkled with excitement.

"I can't think of a better way to spend my day off, boo."

"Well, alrighty then."

Amaia bounded off the couch, dashing into her bedroom like an eager child.

Micah chuckled, clicking the remote and queuing up all five seasons of Martin on HBO Max.

As she hit play, a few knocks echoed at the door. She approached the door, peering through the peephole.

A slight frown creased her lips. The figure was too tall to see clearly. In a world where danger lurked around every corner, she hesitated to open the door to a stranger.

People can be unpredictable. One misstep could lead to a kidnapping, harm, and all sorts of awful scenarios. She was definitely a worst-case scenario type of thinker. Right now, opening the door felt like a risky move.

"Who is it?!" she called out, her ear pressed against the cold, polished wood.

"Your new neighbor," a deep voice replied.

Ah, yes, the new neighbor. She recalled seeing boxes in the hallway earlier, even stumbling over one as she fetched her mail.

With a click, the door swung open, revealing the towering figure leaning against the frame.

His eyes widened with concern as he observed the smaller woman's startled expression.

It was the same guy Amaia had shown her a picture of.

"Um, hey... I'm your new neighbor, Joe. I came to introduce myself, but by the look on your face, I'm guessing you already knew that," he chuckled.

"Micah, who's that?" Amaia queried, pulling her braids into a neat ponytail.

Micah slammed the door, shutting out the person on the other side.

"Just some... uh, girl scouts... selling, you know, girl scout stuff. Cookies and..stuff. I told them we didn't want anything.." she stammered with a nervous giggle.

Their new neighbor persisted despite Micah's efforts to make the man disappear. Micah let out a grunt.

"Seriously, dude," she muttered under her breath.

"Move," Amaia gently nudged her friend aside, taking matters into her own hands. With a bright smile, she flung the door open, anticipating a troop of uniformed children clutching boxes of cookies.

But her excitement quickly turned into shock when she laid eyes on the familiar face, causing her to let out a startled scream that made the man jump.

"Joe?!"

He grinned. "Hey, Amaia. Didn't know you lived here too."

Shaking her head to regain composure, Amaia asked, "What do you mean, 'lived here too'?"

"I just moved in. I'm your new neighbor, right across from you," Joe explained.

This ain't nothin' but the Devil's work.

"Are you okay?" Roman noticed, observing Amaia's twitching eye, a telltale sign of her losing her shit.

"I'm fine," she replied through clenched teeth, her voice strained.

He flashed his perfect teeth once more, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I guess I'll be seeing you a lot more often, neighbor," he remarked, emphasizing the words as he squeezed her tightly.

Reluctantly, Amaia returned the hug. The sensation of his muscles through his shirt against her own body made her weak.

She could have stayed there forever.

But the disappointment hit when he released her. Despite her inner turmoil, she forced a smile as he made his way across the hall to his condo.

"See you tomorrow," he called out, loud enough for her to hear, as he unlocked his door.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Amaia whispered, slowly closing the door before sliding down against it.

With a whimper, she bit her lip, battling her inner desires.

"How am I supposed to do this? He's so sexy, and perfect, and he smells so good. Did you hear his voice? It sounds like sex. Not only do I have to work for him, I live 8 feet away from him as well. I can't."

Micah squatted down in front of Amaia, taking her hands into hers.

"Listen, you're going to get through this virgin thing, okay? You know why? Because I'm going to help you. I'll make sure you don't do anything with any man, no matter how fine he is... Jesus, and he is fine."

Amaia lightly slapped Micah's hand. "What? He is! You're lucky I'm not a triflin' ass friend, or I'd be over there knocking boots. But watch out for Kaydence, she'll steal your man."

Amaia rolled her eyes. "He's not my man. She can have him. I'm not feeling him like that. I just find him attractive."

"Yeah, right. I know you. I can tell when you're into someone, and you were not trying to let that man go."

"Psh, I've only known him for a few hours."

"And knowing you, you fall for people within a couple of days. That's why you're always having one-night stands. You get it in once, and no feelings are involved because they're out of your bed before the sun comes up."

Her face scrunched up in confusion. "That doesn't even make sense."

"You don't make sense!" Micah chuckled.

"Whatever," Amaia laughed, getting up and walking to the couch with her roommate trailing behind her.

They watched two seasons of Martin before both falling asleep on the couch.

Knocks against their door woke Amaia up. Groaning, she checked the time on her phone.

12:32 AM

Rubbing the crust from her eyes, she approached the door, already knowing who it was without bothering to look through the peephole.

"Kaydence, why are you always forgetting your keys every nig—Joe?" she asked, surprised to see her neighbor instead of her best friend.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating with his movements, clearly consumed by his thoughts. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, looking amazing even though he was only wearing plaid pajama pants and a black t-shirt.

His eyes wandered over Amaia's body, taking in her attire—a loose-fitting black tank top and black boxer shorts that hugged her figure. Her thick, ebony legs secretly drove him crazy. He'd kill to have those wrapped around his waist.

He would be lying if he said Amaia hadn't been on his mind all day. Since seeing her, he couldn't shake her image from his thoughts. To him, she was perfection, flawless in every way.

He considered it a blessing that she worked for him and lived right across from him.

A blush crept across Amaia's cheeks as he continued to scan her body with his dark eyes. She became nervous as he stepped closer, his gaze fixated on her lips. His hands wrapped around her waist, bending down to kiss her.

She wanted to stop him, but it felt like she was paralyzed.

When his lips touched hers, she melted into his embrace. Grabbing onto his biceps, she slipped her tongue between his lips, forgetting about her rule against sex.

Roman moaned into the kiss, his hands moving to grab her bottom.

Now they were in her doorway, lost in each other, oblivious to the world around them.

He pulled away, sucking on her bottom lip in the process.

Her breathing was uneven, stomach full of butterflies as he panting against her lips.

"I just came to say goodnight.."

_________________________

Yall foldin'? Or would you be able to resist?

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80 @headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @sheyaish @tshepisho

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #wwefanfic #romanreignsimagine #wwe #romanreignsoneshot #roman reigns smut #fanfiction #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns fluff

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freedomfireflies · 2 years

Text

iFall For Harry

Part Two to this request!

Summary: Turns out, the stranger in your phone is kind of funny...

...and kind of sexy, too.

Oh, my god.

Harry, did you hear the news?

It takes exactly three and a half minutes for those familiar little bubbles to pop up.

Well hello to you, too.

No, what happened?

You struggle to contain a rather giddy grin as you begin to type, A cheese factory exploded in France!

Wait, really? Shit, what happened?

I don’t know. But all that was left was…de brie.

Exactly sixty seconds pass before he begins to type.

Fuck.

I think I just snorted.

That was…goddammit that was good.

You don’t even know what he looks like, but you chuckle at the idea of him laughing so hard he can’t help but snort.

Thank you, thank you.

Took me two weeks to come up with that.

I’m impressed.

Little offended, too.

Oh? Your heart sinks.

Yeah.

Kept me on the edge of my seat for two fucking weeks wondering if I’d hear from you again.

Shit.

You smirk to yourself as you flop down onto your sofa and think through a response.

Hey, it takes two to tango, pal. You could have texted me, too.

The bubbles make your heart pound.

Alright, that’s fair.

In my defense, I didn’t have any more cheese puns.

Oh, is that all this is, then?

You just use me for dad jokes?

Psh, nooooooo…

Then, another text.

Although, the jokes do make my days…cheddar.

You laugh a little louder, suddenly very aware of the flush in your face over some stranger in your phone.

No, wait. How do I erase a text?

I hated that.

Seriously, how do I make it go away?

My failure is staring me in the face, and I hate it.

You giggle under your breath.

Easy, Grandpa.

Relax, just press down until the options pop up.

The conversation goes quiet for a brief moment before you watch his previous text vanish from the screen with a dramatic, poof!

Then, he begins typing again.

Hold on…

Did you just call me Grandpa?

…psh, noooooooo

Oh, so that’s how it is?

That’s how it is.

Wow, and we had such a nice thing going, too.

To be fair, you never told me your age, and you don’t even know how to delete a text.

What am I supposed to think?

First of all: rude.

Respect your elders.

Second of all: this deleting shit is NEW, okay, and I just updated my phone, like…a week ago, so I never learned.

Uh-huh.

No, yeah, whatever you say, Grandps.

He responds with the emoji that’s rolling its eyes.

You smirk.

For your information, I’m 29.

Okay, which is a cool, hip, fun, and very fresh age.

Yes, I believe that’s the slogan for the retirement home, too.

“We’re cool, we’re slick, and we might break a hip.”

There’s a longer pause between your text and his response. You hope it’s because he’s laughing. It’s not your best work, but you think it’s funny.

And then, you get the notification.

Dammit, that place sounds so much cooler than the retirement home I’m in now.

Send me the address? I’ll wheel myself over.

You got it, Old Man. Will you need any help crossing the street?

How thoughtful of you. Yeah, that’d be great, and then you can finally earn your Girl Scout badge.

Oh, my God. How did you know it was the last one I needed?

Cause I’m old. And therefore wise.

Oh, right, right. No, that checks out.

Yeah.

You lean back, forcing your eyes away from your phone to finally get a moment of reprieve from the excessive smiling. Why is this so fun?

I guess 29 isn’t so bad. Just…three years older than me.

Ah, another piece to the Cheese Girl puzzle.

You’re 26.

Indeed.

26 was fun.

I liked 26.

Yeah, it’s not too bad so far.

Just wait until your bones start to creak whenever you get out of bed.

I’ll keep a can of oil on my nightstand.

You grimace to yourself. Your worst joke to date, and you just hope you haven’t blown it.

Probably smart.

My preferred method is lube, but…

Whatever works.

Your eyes widen.

Oh?

Yeah.

My bones might creak but at least I can still fuck.

Well…shit.

You readjust your position on the sofa, desperately working to find a cool and relaxed and equally mysterious reply.

…so, no pressure.

Just be careful with all that lube.

Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.

Hope you’ve got Life Alert on speed dial.

Oh, I absolutely do. They love me over there.

You smirk to yourself, fighting yet another laugh.

Yeah? Thank God.

Boy, I bet you’re a real stud with the ladies, huh?

Damn fucking right.

This grandpa has moves.

I bet. Yeah, women love a man that squeaks when he thrusts.

They do, actually. I happen to squeak quite sensually.

Is that right?

It is.

Damn.

Might need to hear that for myself someday.

It was bold. Perhaps a little daring, and you don’t give yourself a chance to overthink it before turning your phone off and tossing it onto the other side of the sofa.

You give it five minutes before checking to see if he’s replied.

Thankfully, you have two notifications, delivered 3 minutes ago.

Yeah?

So what’s stopping you?

What is stopping you?

Probably a number of things, but instead of pointing out that he’s a complete stranger and could very well be a catfish (or even worse…that he might not even find you attractive) you decide to go with another joke.

All these Girl Scout cookies I gotta sell :/

Shit.

Yeah.

What if I bought a hundred boxes?

Then you’d have to hand deliver them to my door, right?

Your eyes roll playfully as you sigh.

That IS the Girl Scout policy, yes.

We pride ourselves on good service.

Fantastic, then I’ll take 100 boxes in the flavor of you.

Your lashes flutter as you reread the text, over, and over, and over. But before you can spiral…he’s sending another.

…shit, that was meant to be smooth.

Get it, cause…like, you know, get a taste of YOU. Like…if you were a cookie.

Cause…I wanna taste you…

Explaining it makes it worse, doesn’t it?

It should make it worse, but for some reason…he’s funny? And charming? And making your thighs squeeze together—

I think that can be arranged, yeah.

I’ll package them up nice and pretty, just for you.

Equally as cheesy, but apparently…cheese is where you both shine.

You hope he’s at least somewhat amused, and when he finally responds, your stomach flips.

This conversation is bad for my health.

Yeah?

Why’s that?

Because I’m in a meeting and I’m about to have a heart attack.

…why are you about to have a heart attack?

Oh, right. I forgot that happens at your old age.

Ha.

Funny.

Good thing you have Life Alert on speed dial.

Yeah, I don’t think Life Alert is gonna be able to help.

No? Why not?

Cause only one thing can save me now.

Cookies.

Your cookies.

To be exact.

See? Cheesy.

Wow, I was almost turned on and then…

Nope, there it goes.

Oh, is that what we’re doing? We’re trying to turn each other on?

Well, why didn’t you SAY so?

Hold on, I’ve got a few good ones.

Oh god.

Alright, here we go.

So…

What are you wearing?

…really? That’s all you’ve got?

Work with me please.

My gosh.

Clothes.

I have clothes on.

Yeah?

That’s a shame.

Two minutes go by without him adding anything else, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that’s all he’s got.

Wowwwwww…

No, that was so good. I’m…holy shit, you just took my breath away. I’m so turned on right now.

I mean, my panties just FLEW across the room!

You’re THAT good!

Okay, very funny.

I wasn’t done.

No, really. You gotta warn a girl before you just completely rock her world like that.

Honestly, I feel a little faint.

Where did you learn such a masterful technique? Really, you should teach a class on sexting, cause that was just…phew.

Listen, I was just trying to take it easy on you.

You know, ease you into my seduction before I gave it to you good and hard.

The last bit of his sentence has you stumbling over a gasp, but you simply clear your throat and work to find a response.

You have two options:

Either you tease him a bit more…

…or you ramp up the tension.

Well, by all means, Harry…

Give it to me good.

And hard.

He doesn’t respond for quite some time to this. And while you’d like to tell yourself that it’s because he’s just so turned on by your response…

…it’s more likely that you definitely fucked up and he wants nothing more to do with you.

But then…your phone dings.

Is that what you want then, hm?

Want it rough?

Shit, shit, shit.

Yeah.

If you think you can keep up.

Trust me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.

If you want it rough, I’m more than happy to oblige.

Is that why you texted me today?

Needed my help?

Truth be told, you don’t know why you texted him today, but you certainly aren’t upset with how things are going.

Me? Needing YOUR help?

Cute, but I think my fingers and I can manage just fine.

His response comes so fast, your head spins:

…fuck.

You smile.

Shit, okay now this conversation is REALLY bad for my health.

I might keel over right here in this meeting.

My death is on your hands, Cheese Girl.

Worth it.

You watch the bubbles float onto your screen for a good thirty seconds before they disappear.

Then, they appear again…just to dissipate before you can get your hopes up.

Finally—finally…a text.

Okay, listen, you don’t know me.

And I don’t know you.

I get that.

I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger.

But…

And hear me out…

What would you say to a phone call?

Your pulse stutters as you stare at his proposition, but he’s already sending his next text before you can decide if you’re really that stupid or not.

I know that’s asking a lot, but…

If you promise that you aren’t a 90-year-old man, and I promise I’m not some kid playing video games in his mom’s basement…

We could at least…have a real conversation.

And make sure that we really are who we say we are, you know?

And I could be assured that I didn’t just get a fucking boner in the middle of a busy boardroom cause of some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

You hesitate.

Despite yourself, you are intrigued by the idea.

Worst-case scenario if he is some loser…you can just hang up and block his number.

And if he’s not…and he’s half as hot as you’re starting to hope he is…

You swallow.

Thickly.

I am not some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

I’m just a regular creep that makes cheese jokes.

Promise.

And…yeah.

I would be okay with a phone call.

As long as you do in fact promise I won’t regret it and that it won’t result in nightmares that haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ah, well…

Can’t say much for the regret…

But I do promise that I will try very hard not to give you nightmares.

God, are you really doing this?

Are you really doing this?

Alright, then…

Oh, so you’re doing it. You’re really that dumb. You really just let a complete stranger convince you to call him, even though he could be a serial killer, or a psycho, or—

Your phone rings.

You see his name pop up in large print as the cellphone just about flies out of your hand.

Scrambling to keep it steady, you lurch forward and collect a deep breath.

You can do this.

You’ll give him thirty seconds. And if he seems creepy…you’ll hang up, and you’ll move on.

And you’ll never get random boys in bars numbers again.

You press your thumb into the button on your screen and slide it to the right.

Here goes nothing.

“…hello?”

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3 (the third part to this!)

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ More Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@tinyhrry @supersanelyromantic @lomlhstyles

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles text #ifall for harry #harry and cheese girl

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choccy-zefirka · 1 year

Text

What better birthday treat for myself than old man smut

It happens just as Zevlor dismisses his scout — the goblins are still out there, she says, in a thin, tired voice; more and more raiding parties fanning out into the wilds from the old temple that devoured Halsin.

He tells her to go rest, as calmly and reassuringly as he can, hoping that the limp, sinking motion of his tail did not betray him. Then, he turns towards the carved stone barrier. Ready to retreat into his little corner. To hide away, tired and defeated, among all those maps and books and with barely a shred of answers what to do next.

And then, the air shifts. Goosebumps prickle Zevlor's skin. Not a shiver of cold: it would take so much more than the grove’s damp drafts to chill a Tiefling... But an instinctive recognition that something has changed. Something is... missing now.

It takes him a few moments to realize what it is exactly. After so many uneasy days in this dubious shelter, it has become a constant background noise, like the distant rush of the waterfalls and the rustling of the leaves. That... That looping, repetitive droning. In different voices, as the druids have been taking turns to rest — but never ending, always present. Until now.

Zevlor turns around again and rushes up the passageway deeper into the caverns. It first climbs up, and then dips steeply down, towards the watery green light of the open clearing. This contrast gets him a little winded; gods, he really is getting old.

He gulps down a lungful of air — ah, this air; despite all the miserable parts of being stuck here, it is so fresh, so clean, so rich with living scents after the acrid smoke of Avernus.

Then, he calls out to the very first group of people he spots: Komira's little family, standing and staring ahead into the green,

"The druids have stopped their damn chanting! What happened?"

Komira's husband Locke turns to him, eyes huge with amazement.

"Zevlor! Yes, yes, they did! I didn't think they would, but — "

"It was Miss Dee!" a tiny voice cuts in, lightning-fast, words cramming into one another like stampeding hell beasts.

"I saw her with my own eyes! She went in to talk to that mean elf lady, and we all snuck in and watched! I was scared of the snake at first, but Mol was there and she squeezed my shoulder and put her finger to her lips, and I was not scared anymore!"

Suddenly, Zevlor feels himself smiling. She kept her promise — that gnome adventurer, covered in burn scars, with cracking white paint smeared round her dark-grey eyes like the sockets of a skull. Brash as a bandit; loudly proclaiming that she does not care about anything except whatever quest that tossed her in here, through sheer chance, like the careless throw of a die — yet somehow, again and again, turning up to help the Grove's children.

She is quite a character, this Dee. The more Zevlor ponders his past conversations with her — a bit of a welcome distraction in his dismal routine — the more he recalls the book he stumbled across among druids' records of the Sword Coast. A memoir of an actor playing a role. What role does she play, with her biting tongue, her sneering lips, her hoarse voice... Why is his mind so intent on circling around her mouth?

Meanwhile, in the real world, Locke gasps, and Komira's tail lashes from side to side.

"Arabella! You promised not to go back in there!"

The little girl, who has been bouncing around Zevlor, shrinks back and presses her arms — flailing with such frantic emotion just a moment ago — together in front of her.

Her tone grows more subdued, and as she goes on speaking, she scratches absent-mindedly at her right palm. Zevlor spots smears of green under her fingertips, and his thoughts snap from idle images of Dee's mouth — so pretty, even when she's swearing; it would be level with his face if he knelt before her — to concern for Arabella. Did she catch a rash from grabbing an unfamiliar plant? Will that halfling near the gate spare a salve, or are his wares too good for the "little hellspawn"?

"I am sorry, mom... But we had to see what was going to happen! Miss Dee is always so angry, and I was kinda hoping..."

Her voice is a sheepish whisper now, and the scratching is more intense. Zevlor even imagines sparks flying from under her little claws... White sparks, shaped like tiny ghostly flowers.

"I was hoping she'd beat the lady up."

Locke slants his eyes towards Zevlor.

"I... I apologize for my daughter... Saying such things! In front of a paladin, no less!"

A familiar pain twists Zevlor's insides.

"I am not a paladin any longer," he says. At least, his voice quivers only once. "And I rather... understand the sentiment towards Kagha. Go on, child. What did Miss Dee do next?"

"She pulled out some kind of letter, and said that she knows the mean lady's secret, and that the lady needs to get her f..."

Arabella's eyes dart to her mother's glowering face.

"F-funny act together before she dooms everyone in the Grove! And the mean lady just stood there, all pale and bug-eyed; and then the cute fluffy rats I tried to save from her snake once..."

Arabella's pitch begins to rise once more, towards a squeaky crescendo of excitement.

"They exploded into this golden goop, and the goop turned into people! More druids, with hard, mean faces... Meaner than the elf lady; she seemed scared of them! They started throwing spells at her, and Miss Dee, and her friends, and all the adults — not us, though, don't look at me like that, pops; we were well hidden behind one of those glowing eagle rocks! Fire, and arrows, and arrows on fire flew everywhere, and glowing green vines snapped like whips all over the place, and Miss Dee got beat up, again and again, but she kept getting up, and blasting her magic! Bright blue and purple and white; it hurt my eyes but it was so pretty!"

"Well, pretty is one way to call it."

A gruff chuckle interrupts Arabella, who leaps aside to make way for Dee herself.

Quite embarrassingly, the tip of Zevlor's tail shoots upwards when he sees her. He always forgets how he's been missing this pint-sized ruffian, until after he lays eyes on her, again and againm during her many trips between the wilderness and the Grove.

True to Arabella's words, she looks a bit worse for wear, with her usual skull warpaint all but wiped off, and her slate skin further darkened by a few bruises. But she is grinning smugly, and playing with a shimmering blot of magic, like Zevlor has seen young Doni play with a lump of clay to calm himself. She kneads the sparkling mass — lightning made into viscous liquid — between her fingers, letting it ooze into her cupped palm and then bounce up again, crackling.

Besides her, stands Kagha; or a quiet, dejected stranger wearing Kagha's face. Zevlor has never seen her so... tame. Her gaze is downcast underneath the strands of her elaborately done hair, which obscure most of her features, save for a sliver of her cheek, sporting a fresh cut.

"Well?" Dee asks her, lightning bobbing faster in her hand. "Spit it out then! Sure, you sided with us against your buddies and shit, but these people have to hear you say! The damn! Words!"

"I... I apologize," Kagha breathes out, and bows her head even lower. "For calling you parasites, for threatening your children, for denying you sanctuary... This is not the Oak Father's way."

"Fuck yeah it isn't," Dee snarls a little, and Zevlor cannot quite grasp why this makes his head swim.

"So yeah. There won't be any more creepy druid finger waggling!"

For a brief instance, Kagha almost returns to her old self.

"It's called the Rite of Thorns," she says through her teeth.

"Whatever," Dee scoffs.

"You Tiefs are welcome to stay as long as you need. The human bloke, Rath, is in charge now. Come to him if you need anything. Now I wanna have a quick word with your lot's daddy over here."

Logically, Zevlor understands what she meant, even if he does not agree. He may come off as the refugees' father figure — to someone unsuspecting how little he deserves the title, how poor of a job he has been doing to ensure that they are safe and cared for. It makes sense that she'd call him... that. But hells, the way she pronounced the word; he cannot be certain that the steep incline of the cave corridors is the only reason why the way back to his stone door has stolen his breath again.

Once they are hidden from prying eyes — bringing him back to the day when she helped him treat his wound, and said nothing to him when her potent homebrew antitoxin made him act... unwisely — Dee takes off her shoulder bag, sets it, clanking and cluttering, onto Zevlor's desk, and dives in.

It does not look quite like a bag of holding, but it certainly is uncannily spacious. After a lot more cacophonous noises, Dee produces a stout, slightly dusty, dark-green bottle.

"I know how you bend over backwards for your..."

For all her nonchalant air, the crack in her voice would be impossible to hide. Yet again, Zevlor almost glimpses the actress behind the role, and the sight nigh punctures his heart.

"...Your family. So I figured, you deserve a little party. Now that you don't have to worry about these druid assholes any more. This looks like good, fancy wine..."

She pats the bottle, almost shyly.

"Nicked it from some dead bloke's basement. Don't worry; he was dead before we got there. Lae'Zel was bloody disappointed as always."

There is fondness in her words; far too much fondness for someone who so loves describing her adventuring companions as "weirdos I got stuck with".

She chuckles to herself, as does Zevlor... But the soft sound is soon smothered by the boulder-heavy memory of what the scout reported to him.

"You have done so much for us, but..." he sighs. "I am afraid there is still the threat of the goblins to contend with."

Dee, who has perched on the desk's edge, nearly falls off with the force of her own arm swing.

"Oh, fuck me!" she cries out, more dramatically than in anger. "After I made all this effort to pick out the best booze!... Wait, why are you staring?"

Zevlor swallows, which does nothing to soothe his parched throat. He is staring, isn't he?

The expletive has shot through him like some of Dee's own storm magic. Cracking him wide open, and forcing out what has been lurking so deep, deep down.

He has not felt this way for so long. The suffocating loneliness of Avernus' starless nights, the ice-cold revelation that he was now a monster in the eyes of his one-time human friends, the constant anguish of shielding his people from goblin blades — all of this has almost made him forget how thrilling, how exhilarating it is, to feel another's lips upon your own.

And now, she is here, dancing in this titillating spot between stranger and almost-friend. Face, chiseled beautifully from dark granite. Eyes the color of an overcast sky, heavy with a thunderstorm. Voice, low and play-acted to be rude, but hiding a wordless sadness that calls to Zevlor like kin to kin.

She frowns. She has read him; have the flames in his eyes flared up, much too bright, much too greedy?

"It... It was just a cuss word," she finally croaks. Helm's grace, is she afraid? Of him — of the hell-touched creature of sharp ridges and claws and horns and teeth?

From the precious few remarks that she’d let slip about her past life, Zevlor could sense she was a fellow outcast. He... He was hoping that she would understand...

"I know I am not your type!"

"Why?"

The word hurries to his tongue before he can stop and think.

"I, uh, admit that I am woefully out of practice... But in Elturel, in another life, I cherished the attentions of both women and men, and those who were neither."

"As you should!" she blurts out, as impulsively as himself.

"I mean... You are such a good person. Brave. Kind. Selfless. You're from a world I wasn't made for."

She bites her tongue and turns away, a wet strip of slate gray cutting across the last of her white warpaint.

"I have failed far too many times for that world to welcome me anymore," Zevlor murmurs.

"All I can do is fight, one day at a time. And after all you did to join that fight, I do not believe you are as lost a cause as you say."

She jolts up to look at him. Holding her gaze feels like drowning in the sea... And for a little while, away from the world, one step closer to saving his people... He can afford to let go and give himself to the waves.

"Bloody hoon," she sniffles, edging closer and grabbing him by the front of his armor. "I wanted you since you first stepped onto that gate."

With that, comes the swift, demanding pull... And next thing he knows, he as bending down, palms pressed into the desk on either side of Dee; and she is kissing him.

Her lips are as soft as his wandering mind imagined them; until they aren't. Until she bites, devours, teeth knocking against teeth, flecks of her streaking warpaint getting onto his face, like white seafoam splashed onto burning brimstone.

All of his nights alone pile up on top of each other, on top of him, making his knees buckle. She has wrapped her much smaller body, all wiry sinews and old scars, tightly around his. And in her grasp, he feels weak and weightless, melting all the more with every touch: wax for her hands and tongue to sculpt.

His surroundings melt as well, and it is only when his back hits the desk's stone that he recollects them switching places. He is lying down now, like he did when she berated him for not seeking a healer for his wound. She on top of him again. Her mouth has left his, with a parting groan, and she has straightened up to saddle him, hips against hips — which, ironically, is the only clothed part of them by now, as his armor lies in a discarded heap in the corner somewhere, and his fingers are tangled up in the shirt she has carelessly pulled off herself.

The bottle is still here too; she picks it up, uncorks it with her teeth, and takes a long swig straight from the nozzle, stray droplets splashing over her breasts. Under normal circumstances, this kind of debauched abandon would have made Zevlor shake his head in exasperation — perhaps before breaking up a noisy party of younger Tieflings... But right now, all that it incites is a moan.

"You are such a mess," she laughs, lifting the bottle to his lips. He accepts it as eagerly as her potion... And the effect it has on him, once the contents have seared his throat — stronger than he anticipated — is just about the same.

"Take me," he pants, while the heat travels down to his loins, and builds up into a demanding pulse.

"Oh, I have several ideas for that," she whispers, brushing her mouth against his... Not quite a kiss, yet at the same time, kiss-like enough to coax a new moan out of him.

At the snap of her fingers, the trusty shoulder bag slides closer to her, faintly glowing with magic. She distracts herself from Zevlor for a moment — with a bit of comical timing, perhaps, but he is too far gone to care now — and reemerges with a potion vial and a bizarre, smooth, elongated grey... something in her hands.

Instinctively, Zevlor sucks in his stomach, trying to contain the fire that keeps scorching him below the waist.

"Found it on the creepy ship my friends and I were trapped on," she says casually, plopping the vial's gel-like, glittery-blue contents into her palm — not even noticing that she just referred to the "weirdos" as "friends".

"I think I was supposed to use it to set Shade free from the glass thingamajig where they were holding her... But I just smashed that to pieces with lightning. Kept this around as a souvenir; finally it can come in handy!"

"Please," is all Zevlor musters, tongue-tied by the restless greed that consumes him.

Thankfully, it is not long before that greed is sated.

"Pants off, old man. Spread your legs."

He complies, whimpering in anticipation. The sound, to his surprise, reaches its loudest when she snaps her fingers again.

With this motion, the outline of her hand doubles, then triples. Zevlor is ready to accept that his vision is just growing blurry with lust and wine... But she has, in fact, cast a spell. See-through copies of her hand slip off like floating silvery gloves: one takes the dripping, well-oiled object from Dee and carries it down, teasing under Zevlor's tail; while the other glides over his heaving hips and caresses him from the front, translucent fingers encircling his cock.

Dee herself bites into his lips again. Her small frame has slid up his torso, and while the ghostly hands are busy thrusting into Zevlor and stroking him to perfect hardness, her hands of flesh and blood have unlaced the front of her breeches. She has planted her core right over one of the ridges that sculpt Zevlor's chest, and is rutting against it, her little yelps mingling with his own.

"Wait... This might not be enough..." he slurs between kisses, intending to offer his tail to help her to completion... But he is interrupted by the white-hot rush of his two ecstasies, joined as one.

A moment of utter blindness, utter weightlessness; he disintegrates into dazzling giddy light, and then returns to the material plane, body spent, head spinning, heart swollen in elated disbelief. Like pleasure of this kind cannot be meant for him.

The ghostly hands turn to wisps of silver dust, and Dee's face shimmers into focus — heavily-lidded eyes, darkly-bitten lips.

"Well, thanks, old man," she drawls, and now that the glittery smoke in Zevlor's mind has somewhat settled, he realizes, with a flush choking him like a collar, that he must have spilled all over her back.

"Now, what was that you were saying?"

He forces down a cough. Ah. His tail.

He wiggles around on the desk — not without awkwardness, especially since his back has chosen this particular time to remind him that his cock is not the only part of him capable of being stiff — and gently guides Dee where he wants her. Within the reach of his tail's tip, which bobs over her half-exposed thighs, and then parts her folds, slipping into the welcoming wetness, exploring, stroking, now turning her to warm, pliant wax.

Her climax sounds about as he expected — eagerly so — a splutter of curses, a brief crackle of lightning at her grasping fingertips. But when she quiets down, the storm in her eyes ripples with unshed tears.

"Oh hells..." she mutters, wiping sweat off her brown. "Oh fuck... Where do we even go from here?"

Zevlor frowns. A haunting question... And one he does not know how to answer. He never knows, does he? That is what makes him so useless in this whole goblin mess.

"I... I am not certain," he says, feeling a dark spiderweb of cracks spread across his bubble of bliss.

"The Descent has carved such a chasm across our lives — literally — that it feels like aeons since I had a lover."

Dee inhales sharply.

"Is that...? Is that what you want me to be for you?"

The stormy waters threaten to spill over — but she dabs angrily at her eyes, and her usual scowl is back.

"Fuck, I did not sign up for this!" she barks — and those fine cracks grow wider.

"I — you —"

She threshes her arms helplessly.

"Let me deal with the goblins, okay? That part seems easier!"

"Of course," Zevlor assures her, brows arched. His chest has been holding all manner of little heartaches, like Dee's shoulder bag. And just now, a new one has been added to the collection.

"Thank you again."

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #zevlor #tav x zevlor #lemon #many flavors in fact #original things

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thxnks4themrms · 1 year

Text

I just realized I never properly made an intro for myself so under the cut is where you can find it :)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hi! Since I can't come up with a nickname for myself right now you can kinda just call me Vampy because I can't really think of anything else rn. Anyways, to make things easier I'll just write most of the basic stuff in bullet points :)

I’m Cambodian (Asian)

I use she/her and they/them pronouns

My favorite colors are pink and black

I’m an INFJ

I’m a Sagittarius

I love music - metal and rock to be specific

I like reading

I love horror movies

I enjoy things like taxidermy and bones

I’m bi and polyamorous

I’m Buddhist

I’m 13 which makes me a silly minor 😋😋

I literally have the best lovers ever <33

I love you Mikey Way

Bands / Artist I listen To The Most <3

My Chemical Romance - and their side projects

Fall Out Boy

Paramore

Pre-split Panic! At The Disco

Arctic Monkeys

The Last Shadow Puppets

Mitski

Lana Del Rey

Korn

Slipknot

Limp Bizkit

Blink - 182

Dazey And The Scouts

Weezer

Pierce The Veil

Radiohead

The Smashing Pumpkins

The Smiths

The Cure

Këkht Aräkh

The Neighborhood

TV Girl

Waterparks

Mötley Crüe

Queen

Nirvana

The Offspring

6arelyhuman

KMFDM

Okay so now that I’ve said a little about myself I plan on doing more stuff to this blog but that’ll be coming in 2024 :p but other than that here’s my dni list and when more stuff comes it’ll be here :D

Thin Ice <\3 (PLEASE DONT BE MAD IM SORRY)

Swifties

Harry Styles fans

Billie Eilish fans

Wet leg fans

DNI <\3

Homophobes

Racist

Transphobes

Ppl who fetishize homosexuality

Ppl who fetishize Asians

Rcta

Rude ppl in general

Ppl who force their religion on others

Ppl who have stuff to say about politics (this is mainly a music blog :’) plz don’t bring heavy/sensitive topics into this)

Animal haters

MANIA AND DANGER DAYS HATERS

2019 GERARD HATERS

LANA AFTER HER CHANGES HATERS

RAY TORO HATERS

People who listen / support nsbm

WAYCEST/PROSHIPPERS GET THE FUCK OUT YOU ARE NOT WELCOMED

People who are siding with Melanie Martinez and not hearing both sides of the Mel/timothy sa situation

People of any age can’t interact with me I don’t mind at all :))

WARNINGS

This blog will contain things that some people may find disturbing or uncomfortable. Things under this could include:

Blood/gore

Images of cemeteries/graveyards

Eerie/dark images in general

I do post a lot of shit sometimes that mention things about sex, substances, and a lot of other things I DONT recommend / encourage minors use - when I say stuff that mentions stuff like that im joking pls don’t take it seriously 😭😭😭

If you don’t like these things please don’t get upset! I’ll try my best to add tw for the things listed above. If you spot anything on my blog that you think might need a tw then feel free to dm me or put it in my inbox :)

Just so you know

This blog isn’t my main blog this is actually my side blog - my main is @tousyposay so don’t be kinda weirded out by that :p

My additional side blogs include:

@blxxdbxgs - a place where i simp over nurse Gerard

@urmyfavexplosion - my blog where i choose one album and post that for an entire month or some shit like that

MY SOCIALLLLSSSS

TikTok - edgelordbolos

Insta - bolosisagirlkisser

Discord - vxmpywllnvrhrtu

Airbuds - sophalbolos

Man I can’t think of any other of my blogs ☠️☠️☠️ I’ll add them when I remember

Sorry if I upset any of you guys I really hope I didn’t mean to :(

Anyways that’s all I have to say for rn but thanks so much! I’ll be adding more to this as the days go on but for now thanks :)

Have a good day/night I love you guys so much! <3

-Vampy

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peachymilkandcream · 7 months

Text

Someone To Love|Part 2|Reiner x Jealous Reader

(A/N: It's kind of nice and out of my normal style to write a much more wholesome romance, but I can't say I dislike it. You gotta have the fluff with your angst. And since this is going with yandere Levi it's good to have a bit of a change of pace. Comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied nsfw, depression, attempted suicide, violence, general angst, slowburn, lowkey love triangle with a happy ending, not a warning but Reiner calls you nicknames instead of y/n (because I personally can't stand it)

==============================================

It felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs.

"An Island Devil?"

"I know, it's crazy, trust me I already know that. Especially after everything they did to Bertholdt and Annie. I don't know, I just feel...good about myself and safe around her."

She clears her throat, trying to keep the wad of emotion down in her chest so it doesn't spill out all at once. "And you say her name is Evelyn? I..uhm- tell me about her-"

Reiner leans back with a shy smile. "Well for starters she's short, really short, but she's also fun, and super sweet, an impressive fighter, and pretty on top of that. Like the ultimate package."

"How did you meet her?"

"When I was under cover she was one of the Scout officers, I didn't get to see a whole lot of her since she was part of Captain Levi's squad, but still. As far as Island Devils go she's one of the sweetest people I've ever met."

"Does she know who you are?"

Now Reiner frowns, apparently a sore spot for him. "Yes she does, when we fled I exposed who I was to her...and she said she hated me."

She tries to hide her relief with a deep breath, it wouldn't help anything to outwardly show how glad she was of that.

"So you'll never see her again."

"Until we return to Paradis to reclaim the Founder it seems unlikely." His mood changed, his tone becoming more and more depressed.

"That's too bad. She sounds wonderful."

"Yeah...she was." Reiner rests his elbow on the table, staring into the wooden pattern. "By now she's probably married off to Captain Levi, no screw that, why should I respect him with a title, to Levi."

"Who's Levi?" She didn't know who he was but if he was able to give Reiner closure with this unattainable crush she'd be thankful to him.

"Selfish bastard. Captain of the Survey Corps and man does he abuse that. Always unfairly punishing everyone and demanding respect." He shakes his head. "Creep watched Evelyn like some kind of sick stalker. There were many times I got punished for being anywhere near her. Asshole."

"Maybe you just didn't understand their dynamic?"

"Impossible, it was so obvious he was sick in the head. But no one saw it but me."

Bravely she reaches out to touch his hand. "It'll be okay Reiner, you can move on now. Forget about what happened their and live the rest of your life in peace."

"The rest of my life." He scoffs. "What short time I have left."

The thought made her wince, but he had a point. If she didn't try harder he'd be killed and they'd never have that life she dreamed of, even if it was for a short time.

"That's why you need to make the most of it."

Reiner nods, taking in her words. "You're right, sitting here sulking over what could have been won't get me anything but wasted time." A smile comes to his face. "Thanks kid, you always make me believe in myself."

She blushed a little at the nickname, even after all of this he still saw her as the same girl from their childhood. "No problem, you're my friend and I want to help you."

Reiner's face turns solemn again but before he can speak his mind a soldier comes up to their table.

"Reiner Braun, Commander Magath has sent for you."

"Right now? Is it urgent?"

"He said to come right away."

Reiner offers an apologetic glance before standing and hurrying to follow the young soldier, leaving her alone.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but she had a bad feeling about all of this.

#reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner smut #aot reiner #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #reiner x oc #someone to love

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draconicfool · 10 days

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these are headcanons that have to do specifically with the event and why Eros was on the Luofu in general. I'm also tagging @starspurn cuz these were bounced off her and directly involve her interpretation of Luka! Under the cut cuz spoilies. They got so long because the event gave me a lot of just basic ideas as well as little bits just based on what I thought Eros' reactions to things would be

When we see Luka at the venue, Eros is just sort of standing on his tip toes and looking over his shoulder, they cannot be separated don't ask them to be. They literally would've whined if they had been

When Luka's in the clinic talking to Nat, you know who's there? That's right, it's the bestie, just nodding along in the background but he gives a chaste reminder to 'Not push too hard just to be the first Belobogian to enter a competition in space'

He's also standing there with Hook and Oleg giving Luka a pep talk even if he's most just sitting there with his hand over his mouth trying not to laugh at Hook, but he pats her head and gives Luka yet another reminder in tandem with Oleg that Gepard is tougher than the usual tricks and how he won't forgive Luka if he hurts himself just to win. Plus he assures that he'll be proud of him either way

As soon as that match was over you bet your ass Eros was checking him over just to double triple quadruple check that he was okay

The homie encourages all the IPC hate, he fucking hates the IPC thank you Luka for also hating IPC, they talk shit about them with each other

Eros really insisted on coming along, not just to look after the younger kids which he's so fond of, but to look after Luka. And- it's really for the best because Kit and I talked about how these losers whine the second they're separated from each other, so everyone should be grateful they didn't have to hear it

He also absolutely has just been 'playing human' and offered zero advice to Luka on how to deal with the long-life species of the Xianzhou. He's been acting just as clueless but he's laughed every time something happened to him. Especially when he called that vidyadhara a little girl

Before the tournament, Eros did some scouting around the Luofu to make sure that things would be safe- mostly for him to keep his identity concealed which is how he ended up seeing the Borisin, but he more or less just darted back to Luka's side at that. As he isn't a member of the Xianzhou anymore, their problems aren't his problems, and he'd rather be with the people of Belobog- that's his home after all

Unlike Luka, Eros makes no effort to hide his disdain for the IPC. Miss Carmella is nice and all but Eros won't forget so easily how their home was nearly turned into an asset and the whole of the people of Belobog were nearly birds in cages

The only person the tabloid journalist doesn't ask about being in a relationship with Luka is Eros which is really funny considering they're attached at the hip constantly

While Eros is loathe to get help from the Alchemy Commission, he admits that mental maladies are not his strong suit

Eros and Lingsha sort of 'exchange looks' but neither really says anything. After all, Eros is there to support Luka and make sure he's safe! Not stir up trouble on the Luofu

He absolutely would rub Luka's back after the Igor data they got bc he can tell that man is stressing holy shit

'Walk the streets alone a couple more times' as if Eros doesn't hold his hand and go with him the entire time do not separate them

He was also absolutely judging him when Yanqing said 'as a warrior I guess I'm always challenging myself' and Luka didn't realize that meant- that Yanqing was the kid they were talking to so he just standing there fucking staring at him

Eros is very obviously frustrated by the rumors that start circulating about Luka and has to be sort of held back. You've heard of scary dog privilege? Luka has a little Pomeranian that will bite issues for him

After the Boothill fight, Eros was absolutely fretting over him and more than grateful that all that got damaged was Luka's arm. Aeons know he would've torn that Galaxy Ranger to bits if he hurt Luka!

Even Eros is asked to leave when Luka wants to be alone for awhile which- is a big twist which leaves Eros a bit lost on what to do, they're attached at the hip after all! So he takes the time to hang out with Hook and Svarog for a bit. As much as he doesn't want to leave Luka at a time like this, he gets that he doesn't want to be around people right now.

Kit and i agreed it'd be super cute and super gay if during Tail being in Luka's mind there was also a section where we see a little Eros patching Luka up like "So maybe t'day- was a bad day, but tha's okay. I'll pick ya back up, mhm. Cuz y'er m'best friend!" and then we get the black transition where it's them older and it's like "C'mon, country bumpkin, let's get ya up. How am I s'pposed t' patch up m'favorite man in th' world if he ain't gettin' back up? Need t' lean on me? Tha's okay… I'll carry ya 'til y'c'n stand on y'er own two feet" and how that more or less is a little drive forward. That's "one of the smaller voices that matters" is his best friend since the day they met.

On the topic of Margie, I'm making an assumption that she was alive while Alexi was also alive, meaning that during the time Eros was more or less extremely against using his magic, even though he knew it would've helped her- he knew too that saving a life wasn't worth taking another when there was no way off of Belobog and he blames himself quite a bit for not doing enough for her

He's of course, very proud of Luka when he does agree to try again and cheers him on the whole way. Not that he's ever stopped, but he's proud that Luka was able to pick himself back up and even teases him about it, saying 'usually s'me pickin' ya up and patchin' ya up... went and did m'job f'er me~'

Eros, while afraid of Borisin, sympathizes with Samatha and the Borisin of the Clartewheel temple. Fighting against their nature and wanting peace despite what they are and despite how the rest of the galaxy sees them as monsters. It's something Eros understands all too well

He thought it was very funny when Svarog turned out to be the Independent Contestant, but it wasn't really a surprise given he'd spent that last bit of time with Hook, and by extension, Svarog. Besides, Eros and Boss Svarog have a good working relationship! Of course he wouldn't be kept in the dark about it.

This one is shipverse specific Eros absolutely ran up gave Luka the biggest hug and kiss when he beat Svarog, that's his bestie ! He knew he could do it! Also maybe this is where the feelings are finally actually realized? Who's to say

Luka gets another 'no time with Eros' moment when Boothill takes him to the teahouse. He dishes the hot goss and tea with the Trailblazer and Carmella, dishes all the dirt. The girls are talking shit ! Not about Luka just in general

When Luka returns he'd get another cute little pep talk from Eros of 'win or lose, jus' know 'm proud of ya... but y'er gonna win! I jus' know it!'

Needless to say Eros is very proud of Luka for even getting that far, not that he didn't believe in him, but all the same

I do think that based on timeline things that Eros would've gone to see the Luofu wardance back 700 years ago because he would've been younger and I think he would've found Igor interesting and inspiring. Especially because he was someone who wanted desperately to help his own people, he regretted that there wasn't a way for the alliance to help them. I think that in a way Eros has always seen a glimmer of Igor in Luka and that subconsciously that was part of what drove him to actually approach him that day they met. I don't think he's aware that the recognition was part of it, but I think he's glad in a way that it was a man he too ended up idolizing that brought them together.

With the trade agreement Eros has to be a bit more careful about the use of his magic and making sure that he doesn't accidentally blow his cover. Not that he's done anything before now outside of revealing himself to the Astral Express, but he's definitely a bit more aware of himself

Eros gets a Tuskpir of his own with the help of Lingsha, he names her Hypnos and even makes her a cute little corner of the clinic where she can relax and play, and at the end of the day she sleeps curled up in bed with him

#🐉 ; a promise that you'll never be far a love that you've nurtured since you met ; starspurn ; luka #🐉 ; if we only need an hour to break [headcanon]#hsr spoilers #these aren't all specific to ship verse cuz some of these exist regardless but al lthe same #it gets the ship tag

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most-creature-vibe-tournament · 8 months

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Semifinal 1

Propaganda:

Taylor Hebert (Worm (webserial by Wildbow))

#normally i would want a worm character to win#but#bdubs is a strange little man. he's unusual.#Taylor's just got the 'tism.

She also turns into a bug monster at one point. Not all on her own, but she very much turns into a bug monster. Literally And Physically.

• And she uses this to survive like a cockroach, she had Just Been Ripped In Fucking Half and thrown in the ocean to die and BOOM. bug monster transformation (with a little help) climb out and keep fighting, against an opponent so vast and powerful a human couldn't even comprehend his true form (not eldritch cognitohazard, just planet-sized + multidimensional), who could kill her in an instant. She's always surviving against the odds she's so cockroach coded (affectionate!) #@ pollrunner if you're still accepting propaganda please take the 'turns into a bug monster' as propaganda#the rest can be ignored or trimmed to 'she's always surviving she's so cockroach coded' but pleamse. the Time she Became A Bug • #she's such a freak!!!#she kills like it's the only thing she was built how to do#she kills people and things like it's chess and she's a grandmaster#as soon as the violence is off she's just a fucked up offputting little one woman panopticon • One of my favourite descriptions of Taylor from someone else's POV, from Interlude 14.

“A figure stood behind Yan. Her costume was barely recognizable—She wore a short cape of tattered black cloth over her body armor, a skintight black suit beneath that, and there were folds of black cloth draped around her legs like a dress or a robe. The entire fabric seemed to ripple and move. It took Sierra a second to realize it was crawling with a carpet of insects.” “The disconcerting part was the girl’s face, or lack thereof. Her expression was masked behind a shifting mass of bugs that moved in and out of her hairline. Sierra couldn’t even tell where the bugs ended and the scalp began, as the small black bodies crawled into and onto the black curls. There was a hint of something like glass where Skitter’s eyes were, but the bugs ventured far enough over her eyelids and around the frames that nothing was visible in the way of goggles, glasses or skin.” “Skitter hadn’t made a sound as she entered. She hadn’t spoken, and her footsteps had been quiet.”

Goodtimeswithscar (Hermitcraft / life series)

Scared for life

I must say that scar, who is a vex and an elf, wins this one.

He was also a witch, but was so busy building an airplane he didn't even notice it. Probably because he is so used to shape changing, having also been a pirate, wizard, trader, superhero, and imagineer.

There were also some rumors about him being a mattress store but those have been debunked.

#taylor hebert #worm web serial #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft #life series #semifinals #tumblr polls #polls #creatures fight!

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just-mebs · 1 month

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I' ve seen you mention the trans fetish thing a few times now can you fill a guy in por favor

I'm feeling fairly violent recently so I'll bite. The guy has me blocked and if any of his friends wanna come around again then they can choke for all I care [under the cut bc this got long]

About 2 (??) years ago when I was more active in the tf2 fandom, I made a lot of SFMs and posted them regularly. At some point I started making nsft ones and posting them on twitter where I would promote them here since I had 0 followers on twitter at the time.

Things started to go down after i posted my second one - read that again: my SECOND one. It was a DemoSpy piece where Spy was depicted as a trans man. (The first one, by the way, was a HeavyScout where you couldn't even see Scout's junk so its not like I was making/posting copious amounts of these or that I was only making trans porn).

So yeah. I make the DemoSpy piece. I share it here but in order to see it you had to go to twitter to see the full image. A few people reblogged it but nothing crazy. After a few days I got a message from someone saying that [blog] was posting about me and calling me a trans fetishist.

Now, I had been a follower of [blog] for a while at this point. Never interacted beyond reblogging/liking some posts but I was a fan for the most part, so I was a bit upset by this so I reached out to them because I didn't understand what was happening/why they would say that considering we had NEVER talked at that point.

Like how can you look at ONE (1) image depicting a character as trans and just assume that the artist - WHO IS OPENLY A TRANS GUY HIMSELF - is a FETISHIST. Like WOOO baby I don't know how to tell you this but you have so much internalized transphobia lets make that clear.

And to be clear: if he just didn't like seeing that kind of content that was fair. I believe in blocking generously. What I DON'T believe in is calling someone stuff like just because you don't like their content.

Anyway, so I talked to him. He doubled down on me being a fetishist because I (a trans guy) made Spy a trans guy and a bottom.

(I'm also a bottom ??? Which you guys don't need to know but also its like ?? So am I fethisizing myself beucase I'm both a trans guy AND a bottom??? Like there is 0 actual thought here. If you equate being a bottom to being "the girl" you're actually just both homophobic and transphobic)

I got really upset (who wouldn't), though mostly because for ME depicting characters I love as being like me actually made me love my body for the first time since I transitioned so now all that self-love I was feeling was dead and I haven't recovered despite this being 2 years ago <33

Trying to wrap this up: I ended up purging all/most of my posts and wiping my twit because I was so overwhelming and made to feel disgusting. A few people that were [blog]'s friends started harassing me over everything and I made a post on twitter saying that I wasn't going to post anymore and someone from there decided to come here and send [blog] a bunch of hate (I genuinely don't know who it was and no one I asked owned up to it but now thinking about it I think I know who it was and I don't associate with that person anymore so eh) which only made me get a bunch more harassment.

Anyway I blocked him and all of his friends that I knew and this was essentially the beginning of the end of me being in the TF2 fandom </3 everyday I wish ill will towards him and everyone associated with him <333

obv I'm not going to share his @ but if you know who I'm talking about leave him alone he's literally not worth the effort.

#me posting this knowing its either going to be seen by one (1) person or 5 billion people #if this reaches him know that im no longer a nice person and how u treated me 2 years ago is a larger indicator how shitty you are than me #<333 #mine.mebs #neg.mebs #ask.mebs #anon #tf2 fandom they can never make me like you <333 #honestly thinking about it more he kind of came off very t.ransmed which is gross lmao

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charlieswanismydad · 1 year

Text

about me !!!

links

drawn by the amazing @ghosttoastx !!! if you read this ily you’re never getting rid of me now

Hi!!! I’m Alice.

I do stuff. It’s pretty cool.

Enfp, hufflepuff, Capricorn Sun, Libra moon, Pisces rising, he/she, and more!! I’m also a non-partnering aromantic and gray asexual!

I stalk blogs I like, don’t be alarmed if I like a bunch of posts at once!! In fact, be happy!! I love you!!!!!

If you want to talk to me please do!!! I want more friends. Just keep in mind I am a 15 year old minor!

You have been warned!

DNI:

racists, homophobes, sexists, etc. general dni criteria ig

people who just hate for no reason!! (anti-furry, just hating on certain fandoms, etc. ticks me off!)

proshippers

frans/fontcest

exclusionists

radqueers

radfems

pro paras. go to therapy

nsfw (also sorta related to above, pro cnc/ageplay. go to therapy)

WIPS:

Wilting Flowers - My actual baby. My pride and joy. It’s imperfect but that’s okay.

The actual grim reaper falls in love with a mortal. I can’t do it justice, you’re just gonna have to trust me.

don’t break my heart - Shameless Sans fanfic. All of the self indulgence ever, but it brings me joy :) semi discontinued, might come back!

I love it man. It makes me so happy. Basically yn is an awkward dumbass and so is Sans and they fall in love and stuff :)

Fandoms:

My main fandoms are Twilight and Undertale (obv), but I’m in a bunch more!! :D

The Arc of a Scythe by Neil Shusterman

Harry Potter by Daniel Radcliffe (JK…)

Steven Universe by Rebecca Sugar

Doki Doki Literature Club by Dan Salvato

Omori by Omocat

Arcane by Riot Games

The Walten Files by Martin Walls

The Amazing Digital Circus by Glitch Studios

The Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber (the book’s by Gaston Leroux but i haven’t read it lol)

Deltarune by Toby Fox (is that an anagram???)

Meet the Robinsons by Disney

And more that aren’t off the top of my head!! Just ask bros :)

I’m kinda obsessed with UTMV, soooo….

Fav AU - Insomnia (link to chapter 1)

Fav Sans - Dust by Ask-Dusttale and Geno by LoverofPiggies

Music:

Ranked by popularity, with my fave songs from each! Just like the fandoms, it's all over the place.

Taylor Swift - Haunted

Hozier - In The Woods Somewhere

Muse - Soldier's Poen

Mitski - Last Words of a Shooting Star

Will Wood - Suburbia Overture/Vampire Culture/Whatever the hell the name is idek anymore

Dazey and the Scouts - Maggot

The Oozes - I Still Adore You

Lemon Demon - Action Movie Hero Boy

Tally Hall/Miracle Musical - Misery Fell

Teddy Hyde - Terry’s Taxidermy

Destroy Boys - Crybaby

The Crane Wives - Little Soldiers

Steam Powered Giraffe - Malfunction

Writing Requests:

HEY SO HERES A FUN FACT: I WANT YOU TO ASK ME TO WRITE THINGS FOR YOU!! LIKE I LOVE THAT!!! I WILL WRITE YOU LITTLE ONESHOTS IF ITS A FANDOM IM IN!!! OR I CAN WRITE ABOUT MY CHARACTERS IF YOU’RE INTO THAT!!! JUST PLEASR PLEASE PLEASE ASK ME AAAAAAA

Things You Might Want to Be Aware Of:

i tend to isolate myself when i’m having a Big Sad™️ moment. please do not be mad if i act cold!!!

i’m a very empathic person and i get really upset around negativity. please do not send me or mention me in anything political or controversial.

i get in my head about disturbing/sexual things. once again, don’t show me this stuff. don’t ask me to write about it, either!!

i am uncomfortable around religious discussions. i get enough of them irl!!! please keep them away from me :')

i’ve got adhd and possible ocd so yeah and also my auditory processing sucksssss so if we ever interact on call or *gasp* irl then i’ll say “what?” every five seconds

books. @bunny-on-a-bookshelf for books.

i’m just a silly little girl who is also a boy. we have fun here

Tags:

(new so they haven’t been used much)

#mootie patooties - mutuals

#irl alice - real life shtuff

#reblogs - self explanatory

#alice writes sometimes - my writing!!!!

#skeleposting - undertale/utmv

#is that an anagram??? - deltarune

#sparkly - twilight

#im aspec BUT - simping, fangirling, i do a lot of it

#liveblogging homestuck - reading homestuck and making vague comments about it.

#ALL HAIL - welcome to nightvale stuff!!!

#rock n robinson - meet the robinsons

#musical automatons - steam powered giraffe!!!! the best band ever btwwwew

Moots:

I literally love you guys 😭😭

@donotreleasemeintothewild

@livforlive

@last-herondale

@hiro-doodlez

@sneakyfox55

@junessillywachingcorner

@popiollie

@toka-san

@wishtale-blogs

@italic-does-random-shit

@ghostboisonly

@just-let-me-call-myself-arson

@pizzatowne

@ghosttoastx

@thenocturnenarrator

@lelitachay

@paraska00

@tundra116

@blurboppz

@flesh-archivist

@matzahstein

@paranoid-radio

@martinibass

@drrobotnic

@sandwich2451

@blaster-fagot

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malcolm-reeds-pineapple · 2 months

Text

@frostysfrenzy made the audience inside my head very happy by tagging me in this anyway picture me like this for the duration of this post (I am miss piggy)

Writer interview ✨💖

About me

When did you start writing?

I was was 10 and a deranged little girl so my best friend and I cowrote what I considered to be the most ambitious crossover of all time: a Star Wars/The Beatles/Bleach/Monk/WKRP/The Partridge Family/Corner Gas fanfiction trilogy. It was utterly bananas and at the time of writing we considered it to be our magnum opus. It wasn’t and I believe we destroyed all but one of the “books” when we were about 12 when she visited. I know that one still exists cuz I have it and my brother and I read it when we need a laugh.

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

I almost exclusively read nonfiction. I’d love to do that, but I don’t have the attention span. That being said, I am working on a collection of memoirs from my particularly wild youth.

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

I try to be my own person, but my dad tells me my voice is similar to Hunter S Thompson at times in my personal pieces. I can see it.

can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Currently it’s my bed and my phone/laptop, but I prefer sitting at a desk with a notebook nearby for quick notes. I’ve tried to digitize the secondary note paper, but I’m so boomer pilled apparently that I want to have the physical paper beside me just because I like the flexibility of being able to sketch out mind maps and timelines for lore.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Watch a show and pick a guy to obsess over for til college

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

Yeah absolutely! I’ve lived in a lot of places and been in a lot of circumstances, so that definitely bleeds into my work. I tend to write what I know, so it’s not uncommon for me to base characters, scenes or scenarios on real people, places and scenarios I’ve encountered.

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

Yes and yes lmao my recurring themes I find are found family, loneliness, and the moral grey areas in crime and punishment. When I first noticed these recurring themes, I was definitely surprised, but in a way, noticing these themes has really made me learn a lot about myself and how much of my past truly looms over me. Then again, now that I’ve recognised this about myself, I find that I’m able to process everything better.

Characters

would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

His name is Nathan, he is a sad, scrungly wet cat of a man found behind a dumpster that has been surviving off of scraps and spite for many years. He’s unlikeable, constantly feeling sorry for himself, peaked in high school and has very few redeeming qualities. My favourite thing to do with him is put him in mental agony, physical peril and moral conundrums. He’s a cop who, through his own foolishness, hates his life and self destructs. He is constantly taking his problems out on his coworkers because he has no real friends and has cut most of his contact with his family. However, he goes through a lot of character development where his morals are being constantly called into question and he discovers the power of friendship and not being unbelievably fucking unpleasant. I hate him so so much that I love writing him.

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Definitely Scout and Dan considering I based them entirely on myself and my brother. I literally wrote them in so my brother would listen to me talk about my writing and he won’t do that unless he’s in it. Their full names are Scout Trouble MacKenzie and Atticus Danger MacKenzie and they’re fully aware of how bizarre those names are. Dan goes by Dan because he likes watching the light fade from people’s eyes when he says Dan isn’t short for Daniel and is in fact short for Danger. They’re chaotic gremlins who are considered to be not well socialized and developmentally arrested at 16. Both of them are noted by other characters to be staggeringly bizarre and incomprehensible as they communicate entirely with inside jokes and meme references. They bicker like small children, especially when the topic of their old GameCube is brought up as the ownership of Monkey Ball is still a point of contention as one of them received it for Christmas in 2004, but they can’t remember which one was the actual recipient.

which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

Josh, easily. My man is unemployed, stinky, and refuses to mature beyond an edgy teen. He doesn’t even do his own laundry. His vibes are so pungent that he makes my crops wither and causes the foxes to eat my chickens. I hate him. He really is the Josh of all time. Close second would be Kaylee but that’s just because she would stress me out too much.

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

It depends on the day. Most of the time it’s utility driven, so as an example, for one of my WIPs I needed a librarian character, so, as I often do for background characters, I kind of just thought of the librarians I’ve known all my life, culminated them into one character and called it a day. Then, phase two was me ending up really liking the character and developing her more as I wrote her. Eventually it got to a point where I gave her a husband and a son and she’s now a recurring character. Effectively I am both the DM and the Party and every time I make up a detail about a background character, I end up really liking them and it snowballs. I have, on a few occasions, sat down with the express intention of making a character, and sometimes it works, but if you ask me details about both Theodore (carefully crafted over a few days) and Freddie The Information Guy (Background character I developed by accident), I’d be able to tell you a lot more about Freddie.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

Again, going back to writing what I know, I always end up writing AFAB characters as being extremely tight with their dad’s. I don’t know, man, aside from that, the poor fuckers all just get a delightful little spoonful of my personal trauma as a treat.

How do you picture your characters?

As little dolls that I pick up and play with. They are my littlest pet shops and I am a 7 year old girl who wants to watch the world burn.

My writing:

what’s your reason for writing?

I have to write otherwise the characters just spin around my head like that fish in the funky town (low quality) video. I need to get them out of their enclosure and onto the page so I can know peace. On a more serious note, I write a lot as a way to process my thoughts. I’m a journal girly which I started doing when I was in the throes of alcoholism with undiagnosed BPD and ADHD. Whenever something bad happened, my gut reaction was to buy a bottle of bourbon and drink it like it was a race. Once I started journaling, I was able to replace that instinct of needing to drink with needing to write. Nowadays, I’m on occasional drinker and constant writer which I’m very proud of.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

Any and all for the most part. I’m always a fan of people liking The Characters and telling me that, but I acknowledge that no one cares as much about your OCs as you do, so I’m content with it being an uncommon but very welcome compliment.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Isolated and weird, the type to fly a kite in the middle of the night, too bizarre to be welcome in polite society so I live in a farmhouse of the edge of nowhere and Exist. Hopefully they think of me as the personification of those unhinged author’s notes in fics.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Probably dialogue? I dunno, it’s definitely not the plot, because my characters are all just on side quests, if there’s a unifying plot than it’s accidental.

What have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

Character development/creation and dialogue.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Illegible garbâge that is so self-indulgent and convoluted that it should not be perceived by anyone but me. However, that does not stop me from burdening my friends and readers with it. Their enjoyment of my writing is collateral damage of my creativity.

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?

Yes, I’d be even more nuts if I didn’t write. Besides, I really am my own target demographic, so hell yeah.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

I write for myself so hardcore that I’m surprised when other people like any part of it. As previously mentioned, if other people like what I write, that is incidental and not part of my grander mission of making things that make me happy. That being said, I do consider one opinion sometimes when I write, and that is the opinion of my brother and what will make him laugh.

Anyway, I’m gonna tag @swaggysagiewagie @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter @prismatica-the-strange and anyone who wants to do it hehehe also no pressure to do it

Blank version can be found at the bottom of the linked post :)

#captain’s log #writing tag #tag games #I’m catching up on all my mentions atm so there might be an influx here 😅#my ocs

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