#i fuckoing LOVE the nose they do

[fregget-frou]

Caelum RAAA

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Doodles for you all

[makethatelevenrings]

Pretty // J.Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ CHILDREN BE GONE. If I see any ageless or under 18 blogs sniffing around here, I will block you faster than you’ve ever seen. I’ve got the fastest draw in the fucking WEST fucko. Also, insecurity and dom/sub practices.

Summary: You’re having a bad brain day. Jason makes sure you know you’re loved.

“What do you need?”

His breath brushed against your ear and bathed your cheek with warmth. You met his eyes in the bathroom mirror and took in the way his masterfully built form towered over you. Jason wasn’t just tall. He was solid muscle, firm and unyielding, and every part of him should be rough edges.

Should.

“I don’t know,” you replied. You tilted your head to the side unconsciously, as if your body knew what to tell him and Jason’s eyes softened. His hand came up to cup the underside of your jaw, applying the barest hint of pressure onto your throat.

“Do you need me to take control?”

Your tongue darted out to dampen your dry lips and without hesitation, you nodded. “I need…I need to not be right now. I’m all up in my head and telling myself things and-”

He shushed you. Jason didn’t need to hear anymore. He understood. His grip tightened minutely and you shuddered at the weight added to your lungs when you exhaled.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?”

You blinked up at him in the mirror, your head going a little dumb at the sight of his big hand wrapped around your neck. The prettiest collar for the prettiest girl, he’d always tease.

“Why me, Jason?” you finally whispered. “Out of all the women and men of Gotham, why me?”

The heat in his gaze dimmed for just a moment and then he was back in your space, nose pressed against your temple and chest pressed flush against your back. You could feel the thickening length of him pressing against the cleft of your ass and you shivered at the touch.

“Where is this coming from, sweets?” he growled. He was bordering the line between him and the Hood and you hated the way your cunt throbbed at the raspy grate of his voice.

“It’s nothing,” you brushed off. He spun you around so you were chest to chest and his teal eyes bored into your own.

“Did someone say something?” The line of his jaw ticked and the vein in his neck pulsed with barely restrained anger. Jason dropped his head to rest against the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a line of kisses against your delicate skin before he gently bit down on the lobe of your ear.

“Tell me, kitten, because you know I’ll find out either way. I’ll find them and I’ll cut their tongue out. I’ve killed people for less.”

You shuddered at the venom in his voice and he caged you in the safe hold of his arms. This man. This man. You knew he was serious. Jason had thrown grown men through walls when they hinted at getting close to the Hood’s precious jewel. No one knew your identity, but the mere suggestion of someone finding you made him downright feral.

“No, Jase. Sometimes my mind just has bad days.” You cradled his face between your hands and sighed. “Today is one of those days.”

You couldn’t turn off the string of constant thoughts. Normally you were great at reframing them but today you just didn’t have the mental energy to fight the negativity. It would pass. It always did. But today you were in that limbo of struggling to reconcile the rationality of your thoughts with the impulsive emotions that were at war in your mind.

Jason’s entire body relaxed and then one of his arms was sliding under your ass and he was carrying you into the bedroom. He turned so that he took a seat on the bed and carefully placed you down on his lap, your legs straddling his waist.

“Baby,” he murmured. You blinked up at him behind heavy-lidded lashes and he leaned in to pepper soft kisses on your forehead, the tip of your nose, each cheek, and then your lips. You inhaled the heady scent of his musky cologne and the lotion he applied after every shower.

“Oh, baby,” he said again. You pressed your forehead against his shoulder as he cradled the back of your head with one hand and the other slid under the hem of your shirt. Jason’s cool hands brushed against your sternum and you sucked in a shuddering breath when the calloused edges of his fingers caressed your breast.

“Turn off that pretty little mind of yours, hmm? Let me take care of you, sweets.”

“Please.” Your plea disappeared into a whimper as he pinched your nipple between his fingers and rolled. Arching your back, you pressed closer to him in a silent beg for more. He cursed under his breath and yanked your shirt over your head so he could press a kiss to the top of your breast before taking your other nipple into his mouth.

Your hips canted against the bulge in his pants and the pressure was good but it wasn’t enough. A heady sigh escaped you as you dragged your fabric covered cunt against the friction of his jeans. You wanted more.

“I love these tits,” Jason groaned once he finally unlatched himself from the swollen bud. “And this ass.” He snaked his hands down to grab the fleshy fat of your butt and yank you impossibly closer. You threw your head back and his breath trailed against your neck before he bit your chin.

“God, I love seeing your face first thing in the morning and right before I sleep. I miss you so much when you’re gone,” he said. One of his hands dipped into the front of your sweatpants and he pressed his fingers against the soaked fabric of your underwear.

“So wet for me. Such a good girl, aren’t you? Always so good for me. And you’re so smart too. Tell me, baby. Tell me that you’re a smart girl.”

He applied the barest hint of pressure to your clit and it had you whining around the words that tried to form in your mouth. “I’m smart. I’m a smart girl.”

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you? Such a smart girl and pretty too. Tell me you’re pretty.” His fingers pushed the drenched seam of your panties out of the way and his knuckles teased at your entrance. He sucked a hickey into the skin of your breast as he waited for you to speak.

“I’m pretty.”

“And you’re kind.”

“I’m, ah, I’m kind.” You yelped as he slid a finger into your weeping cunt and Jason grinned at the way your face relaxed as he filled you.

“You’re brave.”

“I’m brave.” He added a second finger and pumped them inside of you, twisting and scissoring his fingers until you were practically thrashing against his lap. His other hand held you steady by grasping your waist. His very presence seemed to sear your soul into fusing with his and you wanted to let him hold you down and press his entire weight on you as he fucked you senseless. You wanted to scream his name until your voice gave out.

“You are loved.”

The tenderness of his voice coupled with the absolutely filthy way he was finger fucking you, two fingers caressing the spongy flesh of your cunt while his thumb drew circles around your clit, had you nearly sobbing in frustration and relief.

“I am loved.”

“That’s my girl,” he cooed as he stroked you to that point of release. Pleasure shot up your spine and your thighs quaked on either side of his hips as desperate, panting gasps escaped you. Jason held you close as you clenched around his fingers and when you opened your eyes again once the aftershocks subsided, you had never seen him so pleased and at peace.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you leaned up to kiss him.

He accepted the kiss without complaint and then he raised the hand that had just been buried between your legs and slid his fingers into his mouth to suck the taste of you onto his tongue.

“Oh, we’re not done just yet,” he answered.

@mcrmarvelloki​ @gone-batty-fics​ @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @kat-nee​ @khaylin27​

[genderlessghoul]

ALRIGHT FUCKOS, HERE'S TO ME NOT DELETING THIS ONE RIGHT BEFORE POSTING IT AGAIN.

DEW'S VEST.

I studied it from the puppy pic compared to my favourite Tons of Rock picture and found that the paisley pattern on both of them do not match, these two are not the same vest!

So I went on a deep dive through my camera roll and found as many pictures as I could from both the Imperatour and the Re Imperatour.

These are all the same vest. Repeat the exercise with Phantom.

These are all the same vest.

Why is this important? Well, if your entire existence is not consumed by the thought of costumes like I am, it's not. If you're a bit insane about pieces of fabric, it tells you alot about the flow of operation from and by the costume team that made these and that's on tour with them.

I have no doubt that they have a lot of backups for all the costume pieces. However I don't think they have a rotation between a few copies. They likely get pieces like the pants and shirts washed between each shows but they would not do the same with the vests.

The clasps are riveted on (thank you Phantom for accidentally unbuckling one of them at my ritual so I could see how they're attached) and they would be a hazard to the fabrics to throw in a washing machine, and I would assume that even hand washing them that often would quickly deteriorate the flocked velvet. They probably get carefully washed on some selected days off, maybe they even have some scheduled time with a dry cleaner too.

All that to say, Dew's regular vest was probably in DESPERATE need of love at Tons of Rock, hence why they changed it just for that show. Also you couldn't pay me to put my nose close to Mountain's after a couple days of rituals without break. (This is a joke, they have deodorizing fabric spray for SURE) (Only partly a joke, I'm not taking that chance)

[incomprehensiblelentils]

@loved-the-stars-too-fondly​ tagged me in a ship meme! I will try to make this interesting lol.

1. First ship

It’s a tie between Aladdin/Jasmine and Simba/Nala, because I saw both of these movies about the same time as a little kid. And my sixth birthday cake had a picture of Aladdin and Jasmine on it, and I used to tell stories about them to myself on the playground, but I had plushies of baby Simba and Nala with magnetic noses that could “kiss.” 

2. First OTP

I am taking this to mean “first fic you felt strongly enough about to produce content for or engage with in a creative/fandom way,” in which case that would be Michael/Mia from The Princess Diaries. I wrote one (1) bad fanfic when I was 13 (about how Michael proposed and then Grandmere threw a fit BUT then he saved her life while they were horseback riding) that’s still on ff dot net somewhere, and I read basically every fanfic for them that was available on ff dot net. I still have an enormous soft spot for them and I reread the books every few years.

3. Current favorite ship

Since I’m on a Dimension 20 kick right now, even though I haven’t read much fanfic yet I’m going to say both Fig/Ayda from Fantasy High and Ricky/Esther/Sofia from The Unsleeping City. Fig/Ayda is incredibly cute because Fig is a tiefling with shapechanging ability who had a string of questionable romantic encounters with much older men before meeting Ayda, the teenage curator of a magic library who is also an autistic Black phoenix. Fig is very impulsive and brash, but also emotionally closed-off and insecure, but she starts bonding with Ayda because Ayda thinks she’s really cool and admires her bravado. Fig doesn’t know what to do with someone who’s so intimidating but cool who seems to really like her, and, well, you can watch this scene where they get together, it’s very good. It contains Fig vomiting into a bush, then saying “I think you’re perfect the way you are,” then skateboarding away in a panic. It’s maybe the most accurate sapphic rep I’ve ever seen.

Ricky/Esther are just two incredibly nice people who get together in The Unsleeping City, but I think that they should also get together with their friend Sofia because of reasons. I genuinely think the canon supports this reading quite a bit.

4. Your ship since the first minute

I have a fun story for this, which is that literally since day 1 of Korra, I wanted her to have a girlfriend (post date: 12/7/11), and the second Asami showed up I was like eyes emoji. And then I dropped off the show after the first season for a few reasons, kind of assuming they would never do an f/f couple and casually shipping Korrasami sort of out of spite, but THEN my friend messaged me immediately after the finale like DUDE YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED. And that was honestly one of the emotional high points of my fandom life.

5. Ship(s) you wish had been endgame

I have...many! Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13 is paramount, obviously, because that is a wound in my soul from which I will never recover. Cartinelli from Agent Carter slightly less so, but I think that was truly the last time that I had real hope for a canon f/f ship. I think Matt/Foggy/Karen should have all been romantic together because Matt/Karen by themselves has weird vibes and I don’t like it. Obviously I think Fitz should have died in the series finale and Skimmons should have been canon, and as far as I’m concerned he died of a brain tumor after that and then they got together. (Daniel is also involved still, he’s a chill dude and I like him and it’s fine.) 

6. Ship you wish was canon

Grace/Dani from Terminator: Dark Fate, because wow did they shoehorn in an incredibly hilarious attempt at mommyzoning Dani (didn’t work, it’s still gay fuckos). But it would’ve been nice if they’d just leaned into it and let the horny lesbian ghost that possessed the screenwriters make it explicitly gay. Also I think Cameron/Donna and Gordon/Joe from Halt and Catch Fire should have been canon because that show is already basically about the world’s messiest polycule anyway, and Joe is canon bi and already treats Gordon like a booty call, and Cameron and Donna act like either romantic partners or bitter/awkward exes, so like. c’mon. Also I think Daisy/Robbie should have been a thing.

7. Ship that most of the fandom hates but you love

Natasha/Bruce is cute COME AT ME. Age of Ultron is a bad movie but they could have been cute!!!!

8. You don’t even watch the show, but you ship it

Uhhhh. Most things I end up secondhand shipping I end up consuming the canon for eventually lol. I was secondhand shipping Cameron/Donna from Halt and Catch Fire last year because my friend was watching it but then I just...also watched it lol. Uhhhh. The Killing Eve lesbians seem fun I guess? I’ll get to that eventually.

9. Ship you wish had a different storyline

I’m digging deep for this one, but Buffy/Faith from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I think they had SUCH a cool dynamic that kind of stopped getting explored after season 4, and it’s a bummer. I don’t think they’re like, endgame or true love or anything, but I think they’re sort of the messy pair that can’t completely disentangle from each other, and maybe they don’t even really want to? I think that they couldn’t live in the same house or anything but that they meet up and hang out and probably fuck every couple years, and it’s good.

10. Favorite ship(s) that’s endgame

GAMBIT/ROGUE GOT MARRIED IN THE COMICS. I’M SO PSYCHED. I don’t know if Karolina/Nico from Runaways counts as endgame but I love them, and I also love Gert/Chase. I’m rewatching Nikita and am delighted to know that Michael/Nikita is still very good. Priya/Tony from Dollhouse is also very good. Daisy/Daniel was honestly the best outcome SHIELD could have realistically given me and I was quite happy with it. I don’t know if Magnus Archives ships count but I really like Georgie/Melanie (we stan sapphic accidental apocalypse cult leaders). Oh and I like all the canon Avatar: The Last Airbender ships too.

EDIT: I FORGOT MY BELOVED ARAGORN/ARWEN AND WILL/ELIZABETH (PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN).

I’m tagging @swiftzeldas @toriasimmons @dollsome-does-tumblr @theomenroom @zenithofdork if you wanna!

[bbrandy2002]

The Getaway

Part Two

A/N: This is obviously a continuation of a birthday fic I wrote for @ao719 that is now 2 weeks late 🙈 I was dealing with stuff, dont judge lol The writers block and doubts were for real yo! But thanks to my Tumblr bestie, who wouldnt let me quit, encouraged me, talked me through this thing and gave me ideas, it finally all came together.

Anitah, I apologize for being so late and the silliness of this fic and if it's terrible. I still hope you had a wonderful birthday and are blessed with so many more 💜

A/N/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow for beta reading and literally a thousand other things.

Warning: A lot of bad language, a miserable Drake Walker and violence involving tasers, fires, animals and car accidents ... No one dies people!

**Drake and Liam belong to Pixelberry, Nikolas belongs to me, the driver and mailroom guy belong to @burnsoslow​ and Liam's secretary belongs to @ao719​

Drake stepped out of the truck in a furor, cursing under his breath, to check on his damages. The front driver tire had fallen into a deep ditch, and it was evident by the thick mud it sunk into that it would be next to impossible to get unstuck without some assistance.

He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and the veins in his neck enlarged and throbbed. As he knelt down to assess the damages further, Nik hopped out of the truck and stood over Drake. With one glance, Nikolas clutched his belly and let out a loud continuous cackle that soon sent a storm of hot blood that seemed to collect in Drake's crimson-colored face.

And the laughter just got louder and louder.

And the laughter didn't stop.

In Drake's head, it sounded like a thousand Niks laughing simultaneously, each one with two horns, a pointy tail, and a pitchfork in hand. 

His anxiety took over.

He stood up, and in an attempt to let some of his anger out, he kicked the tire with an enraged shout that echoed beyond the heavily-forested valley and sent flocks of birds in a frenzy.

The tire's air must have been over-pressurized by the drop's force and popped as soon as Drake's foot made contact. He fell back onto his ass with a heavy thud causing Nikolas to screech out in more laughter. Drake sat up into time to see the front bumper and side panel fall to the ground.

"I think your truck is broken, Uncle Drake," the prince chortled.

Drake's head whipped around and glared at the boy. "No shit! What the fuck are you even doing here? You're supposed to be on a plane to Paris."

Nikolas shrugged. "This sounded more fun." 

"This isn't fun, you little asshole!" Drake jumped up and attempted to lunge at the boy, but slipped in the mud, caught his balance for a split second by grabbing onto a tree limb, then slipped again, before wiping out completely. "Son-of-a-monkey-fucker!"

Drake laid on his back, staring up at a large tree branch that hung overhead, praying to God the damn thing would just fall on him. 

Nikolas walked over to him and looked down on the face of fury. "Is it time for dinner yet? I'm staaaaaaaving!"

"Nikolas," Drake groaned then took a deep breath, his back mud-soaked and achy. "How? How in the hell did you pull this off?"

Nik plopped down on Drake's stomach, causing him to grunt loudly. "Easy. I told my dad you invited me, and he let me go. He was happy you wanted to spend time with me." The Prince smirked.

Drake gritted his teeth. "And he just believed you? Fucking Liam."

Nikolas shook his head. "No. I got Neal in the mailroom to pretend he was you on the phone."

Drake lifted his head and glared. "You mean that grease trap that lives in the ambulance down by the river?"

The young prince nodded. "Yeah. Except he doesn't live by the river anymore. He moved behind the elementary school .. said it had a better view."

There was dead silence for a moment as Drake grimaced at what he just heard before jerking his hips upward. "Get the fuck off me."

Nikolas stumbled to the ground with an uproarious laugh.

Drake reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell as he rose to his feet. He was dead set on getting someone from the palace to retrieve this little menace to Drake Walker society before he found himself tied up to a cinder block at the bottom of Lake Boogaloo. The issue with his truck could wait.

Liam and Riley would already be on the plane with Bastien in tow, so calling them right now would be useless. He pressed the contact for the palace operator, hoping to be directed to the mailroom; if Neal was part of helping get Nik into this, his shady punk ass could come pick him up in the renovated ambulance that served as his home and part-time blood mobile. 

Pacing back and forth, Drake raised the phone to his ear, waiting impatiently for a ring. 

"Trish! Put me through to the mailroom." 

While he was distracted taking care of that, Nikolas was somewhat disappointed the trip was already over -- he had so many plans for his favorite uncle. With his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips, he leaned up against the truck in a huff. "This sucks!"

The sounds of leaves crunching and brush moving around nearby caught his attention. Nik's eyes widened in fear when the black furry coat of a creature with a white stripe down its middle could be seen scampering around searching for food. The boy gasped and pinched his nose as the animal's foul scent started to become thick in the air and made his eyes water. "Uncle Drake," he called out in a nasally voice, "there's a skunk."

With a scowl, Drake lowered the phone and scrunched up his own nose. He took one glance at the animal, who didn't appear to be a threat, then glanced back at the kid. "It's probably more scared of your evil ass than you are of it. Just keep your mouth shut and don't move." The call with Neal resumed.

"But, Drake ..." Nikolas whined, trying to plead for him to listen but could tell his uncle would have none of it.

Frantic to scare the smelly animal away, the young boy searched the ground for something to throw at it: a large stick, a rock, Drake's Air Bud soundtrack. Those things might scare the skunk off, but they posed a risk of it spraying before doing so. Memories of the smell of Madeleine's office when he had one shipped to her came flooding back. It took a month for the palace to lose that scent. The prank was hilarious until it affected his comfort.

 A devilish smirk took shape as an idea popped into his head. “I need my backpack.”

Nik grabbed the top of the truck bed and stepped up on the rear tire and swung one leg over, then the other. He found his backpack and quickly unzipped it, pulling out night-vision goggles and a rope, then placed them beside his feet. He proceeded to move aside a bottle of industrial-strength super glue and the glass jar holding his tarantula, Barf. Finally, at the bottom of the bag, was the taser he “borrowed” from Bastien’s desk, and he quickly took it out. Holding the electrical gun in front of his face and twisting it around menacingly, he said, “Okay, Mr. Skunk. Get ready for a shocking experience.”

“No!” Drake yelled into the phone at Neal, “You can’t borrow my binoculars. What the fuck are you gonna use those things for at a children’s museum anyway?”

“The … the …” the man scrambled for an answer, “those dinosaurs … yeah … the dinosaurs. They’re, like, really tall, ya know? I want to be able … to, uh … see their faces and stuff.”

“I call bullshit,” Drake bit back, “I won’t be an accomplice in your bone watching … dinosaur or small boy.” He resumed his pacing, wanting to get the conversation moving along. “Now listen, my sister and brother-in-law are in Texas, Lord Beaumont is on a book tour, and the guards are off duty until the royal family returns. You are going to come pick up this kid.”

“Oh! I would love to come pick him up. He’s under 10, correct?”

Drake could practically hear the creepy mirth oozing from the man's gruff voice and spat back, "I'll be with him the whole time, you oily ass, ambulance-driving …  è piccola cagna!"

"What does that mean?"

Drake knitted his brows; he didn't really know, just that Nikolas called him that from time to time, and the word just kind of stuck with him. "Just ... just get here now!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming."

The call ended. "God, I hope he meant that literally, and I didn't just get that fucko off." He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to Nik. "Alright, listen up, assh ..." Drake stopped dead in his tracks and stood, stunned, at the first glimpse of a taser-wielding Nikolas with the gun aimed almost directly at him, with a tiny finger wrapped around the trigger.

"Wwwhatcha got there, boy?" Drake's voice sounded calm and friendly. He even managed to fake a genuine-looking smile. Inside, however, he was close to shitting his pants.

Nikolas licked his lips and closed one eye to find the perfect aim. "I'm about to fry that skunk with extreme vengeance. One ..."

"Nikolas, no! Give me the taser." Drake cautiously approached him with his hand held out.

"Two," the small but menacing voice continued the count.

"Nik, don't do it! Give it to me now!"

"Three.”

"Noooo!"

The piercing sound of Drake's shout startled the skunk, and it scurried out from the thick brush.

Nik jumped up with the taser. "Hey! Get back here, asshole." He aimed at the fleeing creature and pressed the trigger.

___________

The instant Drake's mocha-colored eyes fluttered open, an acrid mixture of what smelled like ass, sweat, rotten eggs, and his mother's hairy feet had bubbled up inside his nostrils. The aroma was slightly overshadowed by the 1200-volt prongs that had pierced just below the protruding vein in his neck, causing him to seize up and then drop like a rag doll to the dirt, and muck that littered the ground.

Close by, he could make out the discernible sound of footsteps crunching through foliage and bark and sloshing over wet earth.

Drake's cheek rested against the cold, soggy ground, even as the silhouette of the young prince crouched next to him with his little head tilted sideways and blinking owlishly. He saw the child's lips moving but blocked out the little shit until the feeling of electrocution and muscle spasms had waned.

Drake looked at the small face next to him that resembled his best friend at that age. Liam is a good man, Drake thought; he was a considerate child, too. We had fun together. We always had each other's backs and would do anything to protect the other, no matter the consequences.  Liam wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s just the best all around.  So …  how in the actual ass fuck did he produce the spawn of Satan? 

Is there any chance he’s ... Neal’s kid? 

Maybe Riley ... No, fuck, no. She wouldn’t.

The sky transformed from a brilliant blue to one streaked with gold and orange hues before Drake shook himself of the aftershocks that sparked through his body. 

The metal prongs left behind two bright red spots, resembling a large spider bite and stinging like hell when he pulled them out.  A thick layer of mud had dried and clung to his back, while a fresh layer adhered to his front. The numbness in his limbs had dissipated somewhat, but the pins-and-needles feeling remained. He was grateful the back spray from the skunk missed him, but the remnants it left on the nearby trees were stifling.

At this point, the only thing Drake wanted was a hot shower, a clean change of clothes, and to get stupidly drunk to the point he would pass out in bed and sleep for days. He scanned the perimeter and could make out the crystal-blue lake through a small clearing in the trees about 100 yards away.

Removing his filthy shirt and tossing it in the back of the truck, he eyed Nikolas, who was surprisingly quiet and subdued. The child was sitting on the lowered tailgate, swinging his legs, and trying to force his tarantula to eat a dead cricket. Drake rolled his eyes but was relieved the kid was staying out of his hair for now. He just needed to take a quick dip in the water, change his clothes, and hurry back in time for their ride home. Nik would be fine by himself for 10 minutes.

Drake let out a sharp tongue whistle that caught Nikolas' attention. "Listen up, kid. I'm going down to the lake real quick to clean up and change into some clean clothes." He opened the driver's side door and reached across the seat to toss his cell phone and wallet in the glove box while he continued, "You and your spider get in here and lock the door until I come back."

Nik dropped Barf in the jar and slapped the holed lid on it. "It's not a spider, Drake. It's a tarantula. A tarantula," he corrected with emphasis as he slid down from the tailgate.

"I don't care if it's your grandma's bladder control protection, get your ass in the truck, and don't move until I get back."

Stepping up in front of Drake, Nikolas sneered at an annoyed Drake towering above him. "I'm telling her you said that. And why can't I go with you? I wanna go to the lake, too," he whined.

Drake nearly doubled over in fake laughter. "There ain't no damn way I'm taking you. For one, you've ruined my entire trip. The one good thing I had in my life to look forward to, and you ruined it! And two, I don't know what the rules are about grownups, and nakedness, and with kids around, and all that shit. So the answer is no." 

Drake could tell by the beady little eyes glaring back at him that Nikolas would not give up on this. He let out a heavy sigh. "Look. Do what I tell you right now, and when I come back, I'll build a campfire, and we can make up some s’mores. How's that sound?"

“Okay.”

“Really?” Drake shook his head in astonishment that he actually won that argument. Without another word, he watched as His Royal Highness happily climbed into the cab of the truck and gave a thumbs up.

Did that taser kill me? I’m dead, right? He did it. Do you smell that, Cordonia? No, not that fucking rank ass skunk. It’s the smell of victory! Drake Walker is a god! I have the power back.

Grabbing his duffle bag from the back, Drake hurriedly made his way toward the lake. He felt a little on edge, leaving Nik by himself for even just ten minutes, maybe even somewhat guilty. But he was caked in mud from head to toe, and the grime was starting to seep and burrow around certain parts of his anatomy. Nothing was worse than having monkey ass.

Within minutes, Nikolas sat on his haunches and looked out the back glass. He hadn’t wanted to show it, but he did feel a little bad for shooting Drake to the point it drew blood. Also for causing him to crash his truck. And even though it was funny as hell to watch, the second slip in the mud was kind of brutal. Perhaps a little remorse was starting to set in as the words of his Uncle Drake telling him that he ruined the one thing he was looking forward to repeated in his head. Tomorrow he would return to normal, but Nik was determined to do something nice for a change for the rest of the evening.

With the quick snap of his little fingers, an idea formed, and it would be the perfect thing to make Drake feel better. Nik unlocked the door, grabbed his spider, and jumped out of the truck. He headed to the back and rummaged through the bags of camping items laid in piles until he found what he was looking for: a lighter and lighter fluid.

“I’ll make the bestest s'mores ever for Uncle Drake. That’ll make him happy.”

Nikolas had never built a campfire before, but he’d seen it done in a movie once, and that was good enough in his mind to practically make him an expert.

Feeling clean and refreshed, Drake dried off from his dip in the lake and put fresh clothes on. Making his way back to the site, he caught a glimpse of thick, black smoke protruding above the trees and the smell of burning rubber that traveled with the approaching evening breeze.

“Nikolas,” he muttered as his heart crashed into his stomach. He raced back as fast as he could, fearing the absolute worst thing had happened to the Prince of Cordonia. “I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. Liam and Riley are going to kill me, and I would deserve it. I just hope he’s not …” he trailed off when the site came into full view. It was worse than he imagined.

His eyes searched frantically until relief washed over him when he caught his first glimpse of Nikolas sitting under a tree, eating, and seemingly unconcerned by the inferno that had lit up the dusky sky.

Drake rushed over to him and lifted him into his arms and held onto him tightly.  “Are you okay, buddy?”  

Nikolas chuckled, “I’m fine, Uncle Drake.”

He lowered him back on the ground and started patting him down, looking for burns or injuries. 

Drake let out a sigh of relief. “How? How did this …” he turned to look at the fire, then raised his voice. “Wait! You caught my goddamn truck on fire?”

Nik followed his uncle's gaped-mouth stare to the truck engulfed in flames, then screwed up his face. "Yeah ... about that. I think I used too much of that lighter fluid stuff building a campfire. But I made you something." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a s'more, licked the melted chocolate off the side, then proudly held it up to Drake. "The marshmallow is exactly the way you like it, too: completely charred."

Drake dropped his head into his palms and repeated a slew of curse words and sounds that were not even human. As badly as he wanted to destroy everything around him at that moment, to release a fit of anger the likes of which no one had ever seen in him before, it appeared Nikolas had beat him to it: There was nothing left around there to destroy. 

He dropped his arms to his sides in defeat and looked to the heavens before surmising, “This is my punishment, isn’t it? I stole that taser from the guard as a kid and let Liam take the blame for it. I insisted Liam come with me in that boat during a storm, and he nearly drowned when it overturned. He got lost in the woods on my time. I pushed him too hard once during maze tag. I got stuck in that laundry chute all night, and Constantine took hide-and-seek away from him. This …” he motioned to Nikolas, who was smiling back at him with a big cheesy grin, “this is how he got me back for all of it. Well, you win, Liam! You win!  I hope you are having one hell of a time in Paris, schmoozing and laughing your ass off, because I have nothing left in this world but this …  hairy, lint-filled s’more with your son’s saliva all over it …  and it’s not even toasted right!”

“I didn’t make it right?” Nikolas asked thoughtfully. “Hang on. I can make you another one.” He bent down, pulled out a marshmallow from the bag and rammed a mud-covered stick entirely through its center. Drake watched as Nik skipped over and held it next to the flames shooting out the window of his truck.

For several seconds, Drake contemplated whether he should just leave the child there and let nature take its course. Glaring back to the star-filled sky, he groaned, “You owe me big for this.”

Tugging Nik by his jacket hood to pull him away from the hot blaze, he startled the boy who then whipped around with the burning marshmallow and accidentally got it stuck to Drake’s shirt. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Ten minutes passed, and the two were on the dirt road heading back to the highway’s main stretch. After patting out the fire on his shirt, Drake planned to call the fire department to report the inferno taking place in the woods. He laughed wryly when he realized the phone was still in the glove box of his burning vehicle. And it appeared Neal’s skank ass wasn’t coming after all, so the pair would have to flag down someone and hope they actually stopped. Thankfully, Nikolas had his backpack on, and Drake used the night vision goggles to direct his way along the darkened path.

Hand in hand and approaching the main thoroughfare, Nik’s legs were starting to tire, and his droopy eyes looked up. “Uncle Drake, will you carry me?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeease,” Nikolas begged in a high-pitched squeal that grated Drake’s teeth.

Drake stopped with a huff and crouched down. “Get the fuck on my back,” he commanded, “you’ve burned and shot the front part of me, so your ass is gonna have to hold onto the back. And I swear to God, Nik, if you so much as drool on me, you can sleep in the woods with the wolves and bears and poodles. Understood?”

With a tired nod, Nik wrapped his little arms around Drake’s neck and held on. As they proceeded ahead, the prince asked, “Would you tell me a bedtime story?”

Drake grunted, “You wanna bedtime story? I’ll tell you a bedtime story. It’s an ol’ Bianca Walker original that she used to tell me every night called ‘Go the fuck to sleep!’ The end.”

Nikolas sleepily chuckled. “I already have that book, Uncle Drake. My dad’s secretary, Charlotte, gave it to me and told me to put it in my room. She said if my mom or dad found it, just to tell them you gave it to me.”

“Of course she did,” Drake scoffed, thinking about the other person who found pure delight in annoying him.

Through the night-vision goggles, the headlights of a random car could be seen driving by, and Drake let out a relieved breath, knowing they were so close.

The night couldn’t end that easily, though. A sudden sense of unease enveloped Drake, telling him that everything was not as it seemed. His steps quickened, and his heart pounded away in his chest.

Feeling like he was being followed, he turned on his heels, then widened his eyes. 

A large brown bear let out a roar that echoed past them.

Drake shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Yep. That’s about right.”

The survival training he’d learned from his Campers Anonymous group about bear encounters kicked in, and he completely stilled his body. That was until he heard, “BEEEEAAAR!” screamed over his shoulder and felt Nik’s body drop to the ground.

“Don’t move, Nikolas,” Drake ordered through a whisper.

It was too late; he was gone and headed toward the road.

Drake whirled around to see the bear on its hind legs, drumming its chest and licking its lips. “Shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Wait for me, Nik!” He took off running.

--------- 

Alyssa was headed back to Cordonia earlier in the night than she expected. With her hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, she complained to her friend through the car's Bluetooth, “The guy showed up one hour late to our meeting spot, then drove through a McDonalds, asked if I wanted anything, proceeded to park behind a church and tell me he has condoms before the cops picked him up on a warrant! Worst. Date. Ever.”

Driving around a bend in the road, Alyssa slammed on the brakes when her headlights reflected off a small child darting into the road. As her tires screeched, she let out a deafening scream when a man came out of nowhere, followed immediately by a bear. The frantic man shoved the kid out of the way.

Though  the brake pedal was pressed to the floor, the car collided with Drake, and his body flew onto the hood before falling feebly to the road.

The bear sniffed at Drake and batted him around a couple of times before taking off into the woods.

When Alyssa was sure it was safe to do so, she and a crying Nik both crouched around a moaning Drake.

_________

The following morning, Drake's eyes fluttered open. His vision was a little fuzzy, but he could make out a doctor hovering over him and a worried Liam standing with Nikolas at the foot of his bed. He tried to speak, wanting to know what happened, but was unable to open his mouth.

"Don't try to speak, Mr. Walker. Your jaw was wired shut to protect the small fracture you suffered from the car accident. You also broke both legs and sprained your neck. You have a long recovery ahead of you, but shouldn't need to spend any more time in the hospital. You’re a very lucky man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will get the discharge papers and check to see if the ambulance transporting you to the palace has arrived. His Majesty has offered to allow you to recover in his home." 

Drake took one look at a gleeful, bouncing Nikolas and shook his head as best as he could with a neck brace on and emphatically mumbled his indiscernible objections.

Liam chuckled, "Quit being so modest, Drake. I assure you it’s no trouble at all. Besides, it's the least I could do after you saved my son's life. And Nik here even offered to let you stay in his room to keep you company."

Nik nodded with a grin. “Yep. For the next eight to 12 weeks, it's just me and my Uncle Drake hanging out all day and night.”

Drake tried to escape from his bed but couldn’t move without use of his legs.

Liam walked around to the side of the bed and put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Look at you trying to protest. You never were one to accept charity. I told you, I’m more than happy to help. You deserve this and more.”

A knock at the door diverted their attention and a head popped in. “I’m here to transport Mr. Walker back to the palace, Your Majesty.”

“Perfect! And on such short notice too. So glad my secretary could arrange this ride,” Liam exclaimed. He glanced down at his injured friend in the bed and smiled. “You ready to go home, my friend?”

No! No! That’s fucking, Neal. He doesn’t even have a real ambulance. I’m not going. Somebody, anybody, heeeelp!

[recurring-polynya]

Can we get some drabbles on Renji’s time with Squad 11 especially his interactions with Kenpachi and Yachiru? Obviously shenanigans with Ikkaku and Yumichika are welcome! Also, how did you think he was promoted to Squad 6 lieutenant? It’s safe to assume he applied (I can imagine his Squad 11 gang even helping him out with this) as that’s part of his “master Get-Back-Rukia plan” but moving from 6th seat to lieutenant is a leap and I imagine that Byakuya is super picky. Imagine his job interview!

I’ll do the meta part first.

#0. For starters, Renji spent 40 years reverse-engineering how to make Squad 6 Vice-Captain. He read every Teen Vogue profile on Byakuya, he clipped Byakuya’s unreadable etiquette column in the Bulletin, he studied Kuchiki military history, he hung out at Shirogane Ginjirou’s sunglasses shop and knew exactly when the guy planned to retire and got a bunch of spilled tea on Byakuya’s pet peeves, of which there are many. Byakuya is not exactly a complicated guy, it isn’t all that hard to figure out what the right answers to his interview questions are gonna be.

#1. I think there is an exam that qualifies you to be a vice-captain, and that Renji vastly over-prepared for it and got an extremely high score. Byakuya loves big numbers.

#2. There is a standard application for Vice-Captain that’s probably about 5 pages long. Renji’s application was 15 pages long. He included a personal essay and a long paean to how much he admired the principles of Squad 6. Byakuya loves Squad 6, and he loves a guy who is really enthusiastic about Squad 6.

#3. Renji is great in an interview. I headcanon that he and Rukia did a lot of con artistry back in Rukongai. Byakuya is a mark. Primarily, Renji gave him opportunities to pontificate, which Byakuya loves. Byakuya talked through 90% of Renji’s interview, and walked out feeling great.

#4. The only thing Renji had going against him was the reference section. Byakuya hates Zaraki and would go out of his way to avoid talking to him. Aizen was still salty that Renji left his squad, and tried to reverse psych Byakuya into not hiring him. (“Oh, I think he’d be an excellent second for you, Byakuya! He’s a bit impulsive, and I’m sure your influence would overcome some of that hotheadedness! His poor kidou skills shouldn’t be a problem, I’m sure you’ve got that covered yourself…”) Unfortunately for Aizen, Byakuya was already 80% on Team Renji and he realized Aizen was trying to play him, and Byakuya hates being played.

Job offer within 24 hours. Regrets came later.

I do a lot of shenanigans with Ikkaku and Yumichika, but not usually Kenpachi and Yachiru, so let’s try that for a change!

🗡️    💖   💪

“I have a Special Assignment for you, Abarai,” the Kenpachi grumbled.

Special Assignments could be anything, really. Running around dive bars in the upper Rukon, stapling up posters to advertise their next Recruitment Brawl. Delivering blotchy hand-written notes to Captain Unohana. Helping Zaraki set up elaborate obstacle courses that would then necessitate another Recruitment Brawl. The majority of Renji’s Special Assignments involved helping the captain get somewhere he needed to go. Zaraki was very good at getting lost, but Renji was exceptionally good at finding places. This worked out rather nicely, because there was almost always something interesting to fight in the places that Zaraki wanted to go, and the more Zaraki saw Renji fight, the more willing he was to bring him along.

“We goin’ somewhere, sir?” Renji asked hopefully.

Zaraki scratched his ass pensively. “Not today. C’mon in, I don’t wanna talk about it outside.” He let the way into what was occasionally jokingly referred to as his “office.” It was the place where Zaraki hung out and took naps during the day, in case anyone wanted to find him for fighting purposes. “Chisaka had to go to the Living World last week,” Zaraki explained, rummaging around in his kosode and pulling out a well-thumbed magazine. “She brought Yachiru back some manga she thought she would like.”

“That was nice,” Renji commented carefully. Giving gifts to Yachiru was nearly always an exercise in “no good deed goes unpunished.”

“Yeah, it went over real good,” Zaraki grumbled. “She liked it so much, she wants her hair done up like the kid in it.” He thrust the crumpled booklet at Renji. It was a girls’ manga, the kind with a lot of sparkles and girls in sailor suits. Zaraki poked a gnarled finger at a picture of a little girl with pink hair, twisted up into two little buns, with fluffy ponytails trailing down from them.

Renji rolled his eyes up towards his captain. “What the actual fuck, sir? Isn’t this more Ayasegawa’s department?” Zaraki didn’t like to be called ‘sir’ unless there was a profanity somewhere in the same sentence.

“Dammit, Abarai, I know you’ve let Ayasegawa do your hair. It takes him four fucking hours and he screams at you if you squirm. Yachiru can’t sit through that shit.”

Renji made an uncomfortable face. “Your hair always looks great, can’t you--”

“I tried! She doesn’t want me to use any gel, says it needs to be ‘fluffy’. How the hell are you supposed to do a hairstyle without gel, answer me that!”

“What makes you think I can do anything?” Renji finally whined.

“Look, I started at the top. Madarame ain’t got any hair, and Iba might as well not. You’re pretty fast, and you’re probably strong enough to hold her down, and at least you know how a ponytail holder works.” Zaraki sucked his teeth. “If you do it, I’ll fight you later.”

“Really?” Renji asked, his eyebrows shooting up. Zaraki didn’t usually feel that anyone below Ikkaku merited his time, and Renji jumped at every opportunity to convince him otherwise.

“Yeah, sure.” Zaraki flung open the door to the room where Yachiru sat, scowling, surrounded by an assortment of ribbons and barrettes. “I got help.”

“Wrong Way doesn’t know how to do hair!” Yachiru shouted.

Renji and Yachiru had an ongoing philosophical disagreement about the geography of the Seireitei. Yachiru had zero legs to stand on in this argument, but also, she was the one who came up with nicknames.

“He has a lot of hair,” Zaraki countered.

“That’s boy hair!” Yachiru returned. “It doesn’t count!”

“I… have done girl hair before,” Renji admitted, somewhat painedly. “Hair is hair!” He almost yelled “Gender is a construct!” because he had been reading some of the books Iba’s mom kept leaving in their room, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to explain what that meant. At this point, he just wanted to get this over with, preferably without getting kicked in the nose, which tended to happen a lot around Yachiru. “If you let me try, I’ll let you do my hair.”

Yachiru’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“You can’t cut it, but sure. Whatever.”

Zaraki was looking over at him with something that might have been respect. “Do you know what you’re doing, you crazy bastard?” he mumbled.

“Absolutely not,” Renji replied.

🗡️    💖   💪

“They’re uneven, is all I’m saying,” Yumichika sniffed.

“I love them, he put extra ribbons on!” Yachiru howled, swinging her sheathed sword at Yumichika, who deftly ducked. The ribbons swung delightfully around the sides of her head.

“I’m honestly surprised there were any ribbons left,” Iba commented dryly.

“You can shut it, fucko!” Renji yelled. His hair was styled rather similarly to his vice-captain’s, except that his was in three (rather lumpy) buns, and his ponytails trailed more majestically. The curling iron had been a terrible idea overall, but the big, loopy curls at the ends of both Renji’s and Yachiru’s hair had definitely been worth all the burns.

Ikkaku rubbed his own bald pate. “I kinda like that look on him. 100 kan says it helps him fight better.”

“You’re on,” Iba agreed.

“What’s the hold up?!” Zaraki roared.

“Here I come!” Renji bellowed.

“Ganbatte, Wrong Way!” Yachiru cheered.

There was a loud crunch.

Ikkaku handed over the 100 kan. “It was worth a try.”

[nny11writes]

Can I get a uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhh, Number 29 Jelous Kiss on a Glitra with extra clingyness?

UGH, I re-wrote this and I’m still not 100% thrilled, but it’s good enough. My overachieving ass needs to stop lol! Any who, Catra is Jealous and does something about it! (technically part of the “Green Isn’t Your Color” au/story)

Sometimes it’s hard to feel like she’s enough for Glimmer. She’s course and short and crass, and you can’t even get a good fuck out of her at the end of the day. Catra’s used to feeling like an outsider and a fool, she’s used to being a second class citizen always forgotten and left behind. The idea that Glimmer, normal, beautiful Glimmer, actually likes her despite all that?

That sounds like bullshit spun by Scorpia or Bow to make her feel better, when she knows they’re just pitying her and tired of dealing with her anxious, depressed ass.

Fair. So is Catra.

But here’s the thing, Glimmer isn’t. After making things crystal clear at Scorpia’s end of summer party, Catra had fully expected a few months of bliss and then a lifetime of regretting whatever behavior was sure to drive her off eventually. That...wasn’t what happened. Glimmer kept asking her out, kept seeing her, calling and texting and sending her stupid memes at 2AM. Rolling into Catra’s job on Valentine’s Day with a small box of chocolates, a flower, and a staunch warning to not make herself sick from eating all the chocolate at once. Their first anniversary came and went, and while Catra was wondering when the other shoe would drop Glimmer asked if they could move in together. 

She knew they’d have to talk about it soon. The way Catra was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But until then, she was going to be an insecure little bitch about it all.

Catra isn’t opposed to PDA, she enjoys most varieties of it in fact. Especially when it let’s everyone else know to fuck off regarding Glimmer. Her hands are soft and a little pudgy, and they are perfect for holding and squeezing even if they get sweaty against her palms. She needs the little assurance squeezes, and the fingers playing with hers. Cuddling and snuggling? Oh hell yeah. Glimmer had laughed about her girlfriend being a lap cat, but only in private where Catra could pretend to be upset and bite at her gently. Hugging? Fuck yeah. Ideal hug time, several hours! Kissing, actually okay for the most part, as long as there wasn’t tongue.

Her whole body seized up at that. Fucking gross, why did anyone enjoy that? Squirmy wet, weird tasting muscle flesh. Yuck.

But kissing, like, kissing kissing? Catra was a fucking fool for that! A peck to the cheek, nose, forehead, lips, and it turned out she could be both a solid and a liquid. It was wild. Intense. Deeply, hauntingly beautiful. And Glimmer? Glimmer was very free with her kisses in public once Catra okayed it. She rarely if ever initiated it, too paranoid that Glimmer would somehow take it out of context and be hurt if Catra didn’t want to go further.

Which was why Glimmer was shooting her several concerned looks as they walked hand in hand through the mall. Because Catra would not stop flopping all over her, and had been given several quick kisses. She didn’t want to worry her, but if that guy who was clearly following them after hitting on Glimmer at the cinnamon roll stand was going to act entitled, Catra was going to make a point. 

Just...she didn’t want to worry Glimmer. Most women would not take, “Hey that guy is following you.” well and she is not going to ruin their day out being an idiot. She needed a game plan, she needed fucko boy to leave them alone, and if getting a little more clingy with her girlfriend was the cure? Well, what a treat.

So Catra held on tighter, remembering that fateful night at the party she slipped her hand in Glimmer’s back pocket and got front row tickets to watching her purple eyes dilate. Tail around her amazing, fucking kill me now how did I get this lucky hips. Snuggling up hard at the food court to the point that Glimmer had complained that she couldn’t eat. Catra was prepared to do just about anything to get Stupid McStupidFace to stop looking at Glimmer. 

Like she got it, okay? Fuck, she was lucky and had a beautiful and, dare she say it, sexy girlfriend. 

Glimmer could probably bench press her, even if only once. Glimmer had thighs blessed by Thor himself. Glimmer had a cute nose, and kind eyes, and a sparkling laugh, and even the way she growled was adorable. She understood if people were looking, Catra was looking too. But being this creepy? Gross!

“You okay? You’ve been a little…” Glimmer paused, her free hand waving vaguely as Catra did her level best to not hiss at the asshole in a reflection and then have to explain herself.

Her whole defense was to whine like a child and burrow in closer under Glimmer’s chin with a soft chirp. Still, she knew her ears were twisted hard to listen to the competition and her tail was a bastard hell bent on ruining her whole life. She could feel her nails burrow into Glimmer’s shirt a little as she pulled back, the guy was finally walking towards them and Catra was gonna kill him if he came over here and opened his stupid mouth.

“Can I kiss you?” Was not what Catra meant to say, in fact it wasn’t even close to what she’d meant to say.  When Glimmer blinked in shock, Catra rubbed their cheeks together, giving only the smallest little lick on instinct to her girlfriend’s temple. Her whole body was hard wired to betray her apparently. 

“I might die if you don’t,” Glimmer said breathless.

So Catra kissed her, a proper kiss, as if she was some old timey soldier going off to war and unsure if she’d return. They parted only long enough for Catra to switch her hold and kiss Glimmer again, this time with a dip for fucking emphasis because no one was going to win Glimmer’s heart when Catra had finally gotten a glimpse at it.

“No seriously,” Glimmer said in between the next few desperate kisses, “this isn’t really like you? Not to be rude? Not that you can’t?? I’m not complaining!”She didn’t look, SHE DIDN’T, but her stupid fucking ears twitched and one rotated to listen as the douche bag walked away. It was enough for Glimmer to smirk at her. “Oh, didn’t like my not so secret admirer huh?”

She knew?! Of course she knew! For one moment Catra felt like a colossal idiot, heart hammering as a flash of pure rage went through her. Then it was gone leaving that same hollow feeling, the sickly leftovers of jealousy still smoldering in her gut. 

Glimmer leaned up to kiss her, hands carding through her mane, one scratching just behind her ear and holy FUCK. She was purring, it was mortifying, but Glimmer was still kissing and scratching and shaking as she tried to hold her weight more on the leg not jammed between Catra’s in some last valiant effort to be chivalrous. Stupid, sweet Glimmer.

She pulled them upright and grumbled into her neck, still wrapped around Glimmer tight.

“Hey, seriously, are you okay with all this? I, uh, I’m having a blast. Ugh! I’m, this is, that is to say,” Glimmer sighed, kissed her on her nose, and tried again, “I love dicking with assholes too, and I’m enjoying all this attention. But I’m not enjoying that you’re feeling bad.”

Oof.

“ ‘m just being stupid,” Catra mumbled, hoping Glimmer wouldn’t hear her and let it go.

“Hey, no! Talk shit about my girlfriend again and I’ll punch you.” 

Catra clung a little tighter.

“Catra, he’s not even my type. Does he have a dick? Yes. Newsflash dummy, I’ve got a spare at home and if the choice is you or some random dude with too much hair gel and not enough brain to recognize a couple? It’s gonna be you.”

It was sweet. It was too sweet. Catra didn’t deserve that did she? Holy shit, she never failed to be totally gobsmacked when Glimmer chose her and it felt like she was going to float right off the ground. The two stood there for a while, rocking back and forth on occasion as they just held onto their hug.

“Hey,” Glimmer whispered, heart hammering under Catra’s ear, “he just went into laser tag. Wanna kick his ass?”

Catra kissed her, let it linger, and answered, “Let’s destroy him.”

“Fucking sweet!” Glimmer cheered, teleporting them over.

[stabbedinthenameofscience]

I hate people because of COVID

So...I don’t usually hate people, but I’m utterly disgusted with a lot of Americans right now, so I’m going to go on a rant.

The nice thing about being a Tumblr human is that I’m largely anonymous to the people at which I want to scream, so here we go.

This is largely triggered by my partner’s workplace, but it’s festering feelings that have been there a long time and just have been amplified by the current situation.

Firstly, to all the fuckers who won’t wear their masks correctly:

F U C K

Y O U

I am not going to sugar coat things.  You assholes are the people who are responsible for my partner not being able to come home.  Because guess what?  Your selfish fuckery actually has real-world consequences.  OH GEE, WHAT A NOVEL IDEA, ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES.  Your dipshit waffling and bullshit means that disabled people, who you are stating clearly with your actions you don’t give a fuck about, are at a hugely higher risk of death and have to make decisions to separate or isolate from their families in order to SURVIVE THIS.

But you just don’t give a fuck because of your fucking “freedom.”

Guess what, fucko?  I have freedom, too.  And a cloth mask is not tyranny.  Trapping people in their homes since March because you’re a selfish dickface?  That is.  You’re a tyrant.  You’re an asshole.  I want to lock you in your house and smack you.  It really wouldn’t upset me at all to hear you whining and bitching and crying to be let out.  Go die mad, I don’t care.

It would probably not be a good plan for me to ever attend company picnics, and if you wonder where I am and why my partner is there alone with out the kids and me, or why he’s not there at all...you can ask...you can sure as hell ask me.  It’ll be fun.  Please.  Ask me.

I’m a bitch, yes.  I’m an angry, exhausted, mentally strained bitch who hasn’t touched the person ze loves since June 14th because someone else had to get a fucking burger at a goddamned restaurant and a haircut was more important than lives and the economy is the altar on which we sacrifice disabled people and working class families.

Can you tell I’m bitter?

Can you tell I want nothing more than to beat some people with a solid implement of their choosing?  I have many things- you like a 2x4?  Got it.  Shoe?  Plenty.  Bat?  Got one of those, too.  Prefer to be smacked with the flat of a sword?  GUESS WHO HAS A SWORD.

Really, don’t limit me.  I have plenty of options.

Anti-maskers, partial maskers, fucks who don’t believe in science, anyone who can’t figure out germs come out their noses...they legitimately disgust me.  And I used to be the person who tried to grant grace and understand other perspectives and not hate people for much at all (really, I only ever have really hated people like Anita Bryant and Donald Trump and Mike Pence and Mitch McConnell and Jerry Falwell and Fred Phelps...you know, fascists who advocate for the destruction of others).  But here’s the thing...we’ve got an entire large body of fuckwits out there who, through their actions, are pushing forward the eradication of disabled people from public life and possibly from life at all.

We used to call that idea “eugenics” and it was celebrated for a while until this government in Europe decided to use it rather effectively (ideas they got from the US, by the way) to exterminate first the disabled (seriously- they were the first victims, first in the back of trucks with the exhaust looped into the wagon and then in trucks with Zyklon B dropped from a hatch in the roof), then a whole lot of other people and we fought a war against them and won and it wasn’t exactly an idea we brought back home and held in high regard after that.  If you can’t guess, these were Nazis and the people who didn’t protest and just went along with it aren’t Nazi sympathizers, they’re also fucking Nazis, and yes, I am comparing the dehumanizing actions of anti-maskers and virus deniers the first step on the route to the destruction of disabled people and the removal of them from both public life and eventually the nation as a whole.  Who hasn’t heard the maxim that the strong/worthy will survive the virus and “sacrifices will have to be made” by everybody else?

I’m angry.  I’m in despair.  And I am reminded by this that people just don’t give a fuck if they accidentally kill us.

And I know this is why my partner can’t come home.

I want to wring the necks of everyone at his workplace who won’t properly wear a mask.  Since I can’t do that at a respectable social distance, I can get a really long board instead (or my swords- they’re long and I have a 3′ single wing span, so it could work).

But I won’t, because no felonies allowed.

Instead I’ll just rant on this hellsite about how much I hate this attitude, how much I hate this season of history, and how much I feel like disabled lives don’t matter and it’s being made damn clear every day.  Welcome back, passive genocide, we’ve missed you (not).

And if anyone at a certain workplace in a certain town does happen to see this and isn’t wearing their mask right, I hope they think about just exactly what they’re saying and why one of their colleagues is getting worn down and hates coming in to work every day.

It’s you, fuckwaffle.  Because you just don’t care.

And you make me sick (but not literally, because I live without my person, stay home, and wear a fucking mask).

If you make my partner sick, though, there will be hell.  Maybe only in a letter, because I won’t go in face-to-face, but it’ll still be hell.  You’ve never met me angry.  It’s cliche, but you won’t like me when I’m angry (never piss off a Slavic human who is also Irish- we are fire).

Anyway, there’s the rant.  It’s long, it’s repetitive, it’s angry, and it really probably doesn’t matter to anyone but me.

Signed off,

Mx.Stabby.

[blookmallow]

i keep getting ads for Mr. Love and its by the same developers as love nikki so i decided to give it a shot

i keep starting these little graphic novel games and abandoning them but i like this one so far 🤷‍♀️sry for Huge images below idk why posting from phone causes that 

me flirting

kiro is SO cute tho hes like. a pop idol or something but hes actually really sweet and just wants to eat chips and collect superhero cards

anyway so this isnt Just a dating sim, you’re the head of a tv studio trying to keep your business from going under/looking for talent for your shows/hiring experts for shoots/etc which is fun, and also there might be superpowers??

ok, my instincts are telling me to knee you in the gut, get the fuck out of my face

“i just didnt want anyone to listen in!” we’re alone in your office you fucko when did i say you could touch me

lucien is so fucking condescending and entitled i hate him l m a o

i m laughing he didnt load... behold... My Boyfriend [gestures at empty space]

hes not even anyway i just started the game so i dont even rly know anyone yet but whatever. also FUCK lucien 

“oh hey you left your pen here” “oh... did i ;) i guess i should come get it. and you ;)” “uhh yknow what actually ill just give it back to you later” “im on my way” this guy is red flags absolutely everywhere i told him no and he still came anyway and insisted on driving me back (nothing Happened but like. he is absolutely ignoring every signal im giving him to back off and Keeps getting in my space)

and THEN, he Insisted that i thank him for appearing on my show by going on a date with him, which as far as i could tell, i had no choice but to accept, and i am very annoyed about it

it unlocked a date segment which i really didnt want to do but the next scene is locked anyways and i do NOT wanna spend diamonds on this fucker lmao

kiro however continues to be an angel

why do i have lucien bothering me Every Goddamn Day and rarely get to see this sunshine boy huh

OH!!! MY GOD!!! I HATE THESE FUCKING MEN

i actually might hate victor even more than lucien YOU’RE NOT FUCKING CHRISTIAN GREY, 

he... doesnt look intimidating to me lmao but ok

gavin seems ok but after dealing with lucien and victor, the bar is not high

INFINITELY MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU STOP CALLING ME. I AM ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE WHO IS NOT YOU AND THEREFORE IS MASSIVELY MORE APPEALING. i mean, an investigation. thats what we’re doing. anyway my point is fuck off

he is absolutely a “wheres my hug ;)” fucko and i am going to punch him in the nose the first chance i get (theyre not gonna let me do that. theres no way. but i can dream)

[suburban-satan]

shit my friends say

So I made a list of all the wild shit my friends say, started in January 2018 and still going. It's one year old I guess? Well, enjoy what I have so far!

2018 -d a d d y w i s e -well there’s chains on the ground so that must mean this was a kinky sex dungeon -GORSH MICKEY NOT MY G SPOT -I can wait until I turn 40 so I can troll Japanese Girls on roblox -what if we all looked like mike wizowski but our heads were the same size as they are now -I wanna give pot to a bird -I take pills without water -daddies cummie wummies are the best cummie wummies -enjoy your nonexistent stomach acid -cum glaze -I hope you choke on MY meat -who hasn’t been on pornhub -(wipes tears away and starts belting despacito) -MY GAY IS BEING TRIGGERED -that omelet looks delouse -is semen a liquid or solid -iTs nOt aQuaNauTs yOu uNculTurEd fOoK -vaginas are scary -what is menstruation -you should change your name to pussy something -my gay has been activated -“have you ever owned a vibrator?” “No” “would you like to rent one” -“do you like glazed or cream filled” -wHaT dOeS cUm sOuNd LiKe -he is on too much fertilizer -sometimes cum is hot I know from experience -if you jerked off at the speed of sound would your dick be on fire -I don’t have a sonic fetish -can your dick ignite because of the heat of your cock -aren’t dicks like cannons -who the fuck draws a glowing peepee on a skeleton -honey Freddy freaker is dancing in the living room -does penis smell like garlic -she don’t swallow in this household -*downloading garrison nudes* -don’t you realize that tentacle porn is just using octopus arms as a dildo -frickle my nipples -Minecraft porn consists of the male genitalia replaced with a stick -OOPSIE WOOPSIE!! Uwu We make a fucky wucky!! A wittle fucko boingo! The code monkeys at our headquarters are working VEWY HAWD to fix this! -“I’m big for an asian” -cockilicous -“His anal glands need milking” -fready flipper -FREADY FAPPER -daddy better make me choke -does Freddy freaker have a mutated alien dick -sonic breaks the sound barrier by beating his meat -the sun looks like it’s gon vore you -bootyhole exploration -is megalovania sex music -i like to drink cock -cum is just genital snot -penis musk -Shid piz and farbt -Bull + shit = sis it don’t add up -Hey don’t tell me at least once in your life you haven’t thought about being gently caressed across the genitalia by the kraken -I swallow boba like i swallow cum -I wuv fungus kun, the way he waps a awond my tosie wosies so tight! He’s gibing me a huggie!!!! Fungus kun gibes my tosies a new color too!!!! Wat a good fungus kun make my doki doki go “ UAU” heeheehee -eating banana with the banana peel -orang juce -father I want cheddar -don’t you just look at someone and think about how long their neck is -breathing is just boneless vaping -get outta here juuling criminal -yall ever succ a dick for juul pods -unironically drawing miss piggy -“Jack don’t let go 😱🤭🤭, jack sweetie 😐👀 if you let go 🙊🙈 you’re weave 🙀🙀 gone 😇😘💅” -I've been watching spooky movies for 5 hour -omg it’s daddy sans undertaker!!! -bröther -I ate my sister -are you'd's't've kidding me? -oh youtube please don't show me the shrek movies rn -My brother is calling me out on the family group chat for eating a bowl of peanut butter -Hamilton is best girl -get outta here you fuckin loyalist -what doesn’t cum have -drink flex seal and you won’t have to worry about a marriage -I feel water. -“Superfood or supergross? Is Sperm good?” -coochie hands gucci bands -just imagine trying to cast a spell and then you get disturbed by a banjo -toto africa is sex music now and everytime they say rain it’s just cum -y'all ever burp in your mouth and exhale it through your nose like a vaper -how dare them make my green senpai an honorable member of society -If you didn’t search big boobs video on google at least once are you really a Gen Z kid????? -laugh pussies -i’m watching the history of japan on pornhub -we have the same name because we are secretly the same person -what if you eat your phone and it’s all in your tummy -why would you ever think i’m not serious all the time you silly dragon but we’re both (my name) so we can be the silly dragon together -why would you wash your face before you go to bed when your tears wash it off for you *wooshing noises* -I want to drive a bus because I like busses -my shoe broke -why does everyone talk about the drugs i’m eating -i’m going to break her because she’s talking about smoking cocaine and I don’t like drugs -(stage whisper) metal heads live among us but we don’t know because they look like normal people -oh bye mr music teacher -the pussy? designer. cucci, if you will. -DID I HEAR S A N S P O R N -"i'm about to nay nay on your dead fucking corpse" -alert alert the toes are coming -you got a fucking problem with my 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐬? -imagine using an oven for something designed for a microwave this post was made by the doesnt have much motivation gang -Please take my Minnesotan snow Wait that sounds like Minnesotan cocaine -when you funny scream -"dating the Bill of Rights for fun" is now exactly how I'm going to describe my hyperfixations -the penguin  from fruit loops is a twink (bitch its a toucan) -if white cheese exists is there black cheese -What’s rosum opossum -whale cum -dicko mode -(GETTIN SOME CHRISTMAS SPIRIT UP IN THAT PUSS) -pennies more like penis amirite -It’s Sunday don’t forget to squeeze cheese on the cat -the grinch is dr seuss’s fursona -everyone is gangster until the trees start speaking vietnamese -big chungus is my dad -“if the apocalypse happened what would you do” “eat bees” -I'm tired as fuck but I gotta wait until it's 4:20 to go to bed -mom: you need to be reasonable and wait two hours before having another brownie me, stuffing my mouth full of brownie: br o w n y s -This honey in whole foods is in fucking comic sans -it's more likely that I'll guess someone is gay before I remember the existence of women -im gonna say it again for the people in the back:

i eat bees -Thanos penis, it's actually called a thenis -yort -uwu its the mowst thorstiewst time of the yeaw uwu -It is I Teh gromc -The gronk is here to say eat all the dish soap in the house -the grinch but he's wearing crocs the entire time -answer my question or else i will establish sans porn -You make him doki doki uwaaaaa!!!! -birdbox but all the bird sounds are replaced by cardi b noises -THE GROMPK IS TOO POWERFUL -consume ocean sauce -square up in judge judys court -half consumes ocean sauce -ice juce -frick stick -you guys wanna read undertale fanfiction     -2019- -it might be 2019 but thats not gonna stop me from terrorizing my family's groupchat -(pineapple voice) first date idea: digest eachother -Wait dennys will arrest you for doing illegal things?? -pls purify me -my toes are very succulent today -two succs having flex two succs having sex my muscles my muscles involuntarily checks -f u r r y , N a s h . -Perfect for all occasions! Spill something on your nice shirt, give a messy blowjob, and sphagetti!!! -Do you want cum on your nice shirt??? -it would be nice if i had cum on my shirt -cocc succ machine -I KNOW TONGUE JUTSU -I feel like i’m in a meat prison -hi you obese elephant -plant porn is just flowey porn -We all love the out of the box 4am messages we get -YOU LIKE SNAS PEEPEE

[thatmademadej]

Here are some prompts, I've got multiple cause ~options~ are fun and also I'm indecisive A) Ryan thinking of increasingly convoluted excuses to hold Shane's hand B) meet-weird where Ryan's walking in a park to find Shane sitting in a tree playing to kazoo for a bunch of squirrels C) dialogue prompt! "There are other solutions beyond murder, people." Do whatever one tickles your fancy, and congrats on 1k followers! :)

oh shit i love them ALL which one do i do?? B is hilarious but I really actually can’t think of a reason why Shane would be doing…that…

I’m gonna go with A - Ryan finds convoluted excuses to hold Shane’s hand. 

Okay, so, the hand-holding had been a thing for a while. They didn’t talk about it, but every so often, after a scare, Ryan would end up grabbing Shane by the arm, or the shoulder, or even the hand. If the scare was particularly ferocious, he would grab his hand and keep it. It was only ever on location though. And they didn’t talk about it. 

Then, one day, Shane had joined Ryan by the big window in the Buzzfeed offices - the one with the decent views of LA. Ryan had his nose pressed right up against it, staring at something in the skyline. 

“Has the alien invasion finally arrived?” Shane asked, poking him in the back of the shoulder to signal his arrival. Ryan jumped, and scowled at him.

“Ow, dude. No, look, there’s this huge-ass bird on that rooftop. Look.”

Ryan pointed. Shane looked. He did not see the bird. 

“I can’t see the bird,” He said. 

“Over there, dumbass,” Ryan pointed more insistently.

“Are you imagining birds as well now-”

“No, Shane, over there.” Ryan grabbed his hand and pointed with it towards a nearby building. Shane saw the bird. 

“Oh, that. Oh, shit, that is a huge bird. Is it a pigeon?!”

“I told you,” Ryan said. He didn’t let go of Shane’s hand, not until Shane glanced down awkwardly at where Ryan was still pressing it against the glass, and then Ryan dropped it awkwardly.

—

Another scare, in an abandoned mansion in the backwaters of Michigan, all wrought-iron bannisters and dust. It was getting towards the end of spring, but Ryan was still bundled in enough layers to prevent him quite bending his elbows. When the house creaked violently, he immediately grabbed for Shane’s hand, gloved fingers entwining with his own. 

—

A variety of small incidences, then; weaving through a crowded bar, dragging Shane into a tapas restaurant and then hauling him away from the tiny fancy hotdogs. He didn’t mind. Guys could hold hands sometimes, it was fine. 

—

“Look dude, I’m telling you, you can feel the vibrations through your hands.”

“Yeah, but how does that translate to hearing it in your brain? I call bullshit.”

“That guy - Mozzarella?”

“Mozart, you philistine-”

“He was deaf, and he could compose.”

“Yeah but he, like, went deaf. He still knew what music sounded like.”

Ryan huffed, frustrated, and went and fiddled with the frat-boy sized stereo in the corner of his front room. When something Shane vaguely identified as hip-hop blared through the speaker, obscenely bass-boosted, Ryan grabbed Shane’s hand and slapped it against the speaker.

“I can feel it vibrate, dude, I’m not disputing that, but I can still hear the music in my ears.”

“We need to - find some way to deafen you to prove it properly,” Ryan muttered. 

“You need to cool it with the threats,” Shane said, snatching his hand away. 

—

Michigan was nice, but LA was nicer, and Ryan flourished in the sunshine. Also, flipflops were optimal footwear, in Shane’s humble opinion - peak potential for weird jokes that made Ryan lose it.

“Look dude, I’m just saying, if Mothman were to appear in the street right now your automatic reaction would likely be to walk right past him.”

“How much does Mothman look like a normal dude?” Shane wondered, absent-mindedly taking a bite from his icecream. 

“Didn’t you get the pictures I sent you?” Ryan immediately dug his phone out and started scrolling.

“I ignore everything you email me now; I get the shoot details from TJ.” Shane said.

“What?!” 

“You keep sending me those weird tabloid articles about ghosts, and I couldn’t figure out how to filter them properly.” Shane said. 

“You-” Ryan grabbed his hand and took a big lick of the ice cream. “There, you dick. Revenge.”

“Whatever,” Shane shrugged, and licked the icecream himself, dragging Ryan’s hand breathtakingly close to his chin. “Can’t outgross me, Bergara. ‘Tis a futile attempt.”

“You’re disgusting,” Ryan rolled his eyes, and when Shane rested his hand on the table in front of them Ryan’s hand stayed covering his. 

—

Ryan started grabbing his hand whenever Shane made him laugh, the way he would usually slap the arm of the chair or the table. Just a friend thing, right?

—

“Okay, Madej. This is it. The ultimate test of who’s right about ghosts.” Ryan thumped down into the booth opposite him, eyes slightly hazy. He shoved the empty beer bottles aside and held his hand out, a challenge in his eyes: “We arm-wrestle.”

Shane giggled helplessly, the alcohol in his system making everything vaguely blurry - wait, was he wearing his glasses? He wasn’t wearing his glasses. This could mean he was not as drunk as he thought, or possibly much much drunker. Either way, he planted his elbow on the table opposite Ryan’s and looked him right in the eye.

“You’re on, Bergara. I have the power of science on my side.”

“The power of being obnoxious on your side,” Ryan snorted, grabbing Shane’s hand in his. “Wait, we need an…an impartial observer. Jen, get over here.”

“What the fuck are you guys doing now?” Jen complained, flopping down into the booth next to them. Ryan didn’t break eye contact with Shane.

“Arm wrestle,” He said through gritted teeth. “Winner has to admit they’re wrong about ghosts.”

“Cool,” Jen shrugged. “Uhhh, go, I guess.”

Shane put up a valiant fight. He did. He wasn’t caught unawares by Jen casually telling them to go, and he didn’t squawk when Ryan immediately slammed his hand into the table.

“Wow, you really do have noodle arms,” Ryan said.

“No, that doesn’t count,” Shane insisted, pointing with his free hand. “I wasn’t ready.”

“You have to say I’m right!” Ryan crowed, batting Shane’s accusatory finger away. “Ghosts are real!”

“The match was invalid,” Shane protested, struggling to keep a straight face. 

“Shane Madej says ghosts are real!” Ryan yelled, lifting Shane’s hands in the air. “This fucko made fun of me for believing in ghosts, and now look at him!”

“That’s not fair!” Shane laughed, ineffectually trying to tug his hand out of Ryan’s. People were looking at them. Jen had slipped back into the crowd. “Let go of me, you weirdo.”

“No!” Ryan said. “This is your punishment!”

“It’s hardly a punishment!” Shane said, and Ryan gave him a look. A Look. He was really quite drunk.

“Isn’t it,” He asked, considerably quieter.

“Nah,” Shane said, waving his free hand dismissively. “I like it.”

“Oh,” Ryan stared at his fingers entwined with Shane’s, the arm-wrestle forgotten. “Then I - I guess I’ll keep doing it?”

“Sure,” Shane shrugged, and he left his hand in Ryan’s on the vaguely sticky table top, and he left his hand in Ryan’s later whilst the two of them walked - staggered - back to his apartment. He liked it. 

--------

Thanks for reading! Send me a prompt!

[plato-was-a-moron]

Detroit: Become Human- Blind Play Through, Outcomes and Quick Review

Was very excited to play this, and purchased it within 24hrs of seeing the trailer for the first time.

It didn’t disappoint; in fact, it’s the best choose-your-own-adventure video game I have ever played (though there admitting isn’t very many due to the complexities of designing a game with so many possible alterations in the story).

As much as I’ve loved the Walking Dead games and The Wolf Among Us (Telltale), Detroit:Become Human has absolutely shamed them in terms of how it doesn’t half-ass the approach to “your story is tailored through your choices” like Telltale did (for Walking Dead at least).

You want to save a character? As long as you get them safe, you can. It doesn’t do an Ava/Trip copout and kill them both within the same or the very next chapter in order to “tie up” events. You just save them. Your decisions almost ALWAYS matter.

My only criticisms are with the story itself; the idea that androids so advanced exist and work so seamlessly in the not so distant future is laughable, in all honesty, seeing as Apple have a hard enough time getting Siri to understand Scottish accents in the year 2018.

I also had a bit of a problem with the scenes in Jericho and anywhere too dark. I understand that this could be due to my old ass, relatively low/mid-spec TV though. The graphics were very good but scenes where the lighting was low (not counting black out scenes btw) were a little tricky to navigate.

Another minor peeve was the way racism was presented in the game; the story is obviously a allegory for how people don’t treat each other (especially illegal immigrants) with the respect that any human being ought to be afforded, but I found the whole “androids ride in a separate carriage at the back of the bus” slightly ham-fisted and too on-the-nose. It didn’t need to do that; I could already see that the story was about race and what it means to be human.

The latter, also makes you wonder why the humans were so bothered with being separated from their androids on the bus but will gladly have them help around their homes and live alongside them like nannies and butlers.

It’s very obvious that Connor and Hank are based of Sonny and Del from the film, iRobot. But I suppose that’s less of a criticism and more of an observation.Maybe this was deliberate? It must be. (I still loved their friendship).

Outcomes (1st Playthrough)

Connor: died in Jericho (didn’t mash button quickly enough 😓) after being shot

Markus: Dead (became a martyr for a pacifist uprising)

Kara and Alice: Dead (got to the Canadian border and found the tickets but had a change of heart and gave them back, then bumped into a guard, was scanned and promptly shot)

Luther: Dead

Hank: Dead (fell off roof while fighting Connor v2)

Simon: Dead (left on roof)

Jericho and the Android cause: Defeated by humans

North: Alive but due to be destroyed (failed to adopt Markus’ approach to the uprising and ultimately lost)

Connor v2: Spared North (failing his mission but allowing him to keep some of his humanity)

Menu Chloe: Free 😊

Favourite moments: Markus’ introductory chapter, Connor teasing Hank by the food truck, Kara curling up beside Alice at the motel and realising she loves her.

Favourite character: Sonn- I mean Connor, with Carl a very close second.

Characters I dislike: Zlatko (sick fucko), Gavin (prick), Todd (Satan), North (extreme and didn’t change in her- perfectly justifiable- views towards humans despite my Markus/her “friend” being a total pacifist) and Amanda (cold, but I suppose that’s due to the fact she was an early android?)

Characters I wanted to like but am pretty indifferent to: Rose ( she is pretty 2D because she is apparently the only person to know what slavery is??? Only 20 years from now and we’ve just totally forgotten that? Really...? Still liked her warmth though), Luther (similarly to Rose, I would’ve probably loved Luther if his character had been given more dimension).

I’m disappointed with the ending I got but hey 🤷‍♀️ I can always rewrite the story, can’t I?

[verritytorres]

CALRON WEDDING HCS

(cause i’m an emotional bitch at 1am apparently)

•    moon @frogpepsi: HAVOC THE RING BEARER

•    they don’t know who of either of them should have tamara as their maid of honor until one day after lunch with jasper, call comes home and says “so i guess you can have tamara” and aaron looks at him and knows and smiles and says “and yet you say he annoys you as much as he did in school” “shut up he’s still a thorn in my ass”

•    aaron having a freak out before the wedding cause “oh my god tamara i just!!! i love him so much and i don’t want this to ruin anything!!!! we are starting a family and tamara, i don’t know families and i might fuck this up but i really don’t want to—“ and tamara covers his mouth, looks him in the eye and says “after this party’s over? everything will be largely the same. you’ll still wake up to him, you’ll still have to deal with his bullshit, you’ll still have dinner with me, and you’ll still be in love. i don’t know if you noticed, aaron, but we were already a family years ago.” and aaron just, nods with a new light in his eyes. “you know i love you, right?” “so you’ve said. now go get married, dumbass.”

•    meanwhile elsewhere, jasper and call…

◦       “i’m not gonna cry at the altar, that’s lame” “ten bucks says you will, fucko” “oh yeah? ten bucks says you cry too, asshat” 

◦       they both cry and hand each other $10

•    but tbh everyone cries. call, aaron, tamara, jasper, alastair, fucking rufus cries

•    ALSO THEIR VOWS WOULD BE. SO TEARJERKING

◦       call’s would be “the first time i saw you, i thought “wow. what a jock asshole” which is a pretty big word for a twelve year old but. yeah” cue audience laughter, but call only hears aaron’s light chuckle, only sees the little crinkles by his eyes and the freckles dotting his nose “and then…you were nice to me. you were nice to me, the short, slow, pissy kid, when i did nothing to deserve it. god, aaron, you were—you’re the best person i’ve ever met. and i couldn’t let you get away.” call starts tearing up “i couldn’t let the world go on without you in it. you’re the sun to me, aaron, and i know i complain about the sun a lot—sneaky bastard won’t let me sleep in—but in the end it’s the only thing i can count on to never stop showing up. you’re the most stable thing i’ve got, aaron, and i can’t fucking wait to officially have that for the rest of my life.”

▪       “god,” aaron chokes, wiping at his eyes. “did you write that down? was that all you?”

▪       “jasper helped with the metaphors, so that’s why they’re a bit extra. but yeah.” call smiles, but it’s a bit shaky. he is crying, after all. “memorized it, too.”

▪       “god. i love you so much.”

▪       “ditto.”

◦       aaron comes next. “okay, i didn’t plan to do dramatic, but i’ve gotta upstage that little speech somehow. i…i grew up without a home, you know that. i never had a fixed place to run back to. i was always moving around. then i got into the magisterium and i thought, “maybe here i’ll find some place to stay”. and i did. i found you and tamara. and about half an hour ago, i was having a bit of a freak out—not cause i don’t want to marry you cause believe me i really do—but because i was afraid that i couldn’t give you the family you deserved. and tamara reminded me of something: we made a family years ago.” he hears a soft gasp behind him and he doesn’t have to turn to know that tamara is breaking out the waterworks. "and after i—came back—i was so scared i was gonna lose it, that i’d go batshit with this chaos magic in me, but you reassured me. you told me you’d never leave my side over and over until i believed it, and that’s when i realized for the first time in my life i had something to come back to. i had a home, call, and that’s you.”

▪       by now, call's covered his face with the hand that wasn’t holding aaron’s. “you sappy fucker.”

•    after the officiant declares them husband and husband, they kiss, and it’s wet and gross and they’re both smiling too much for it to be a real kiss, but they both think it’s the best one yet. tamara starts cheering loudly, and jasper joins in, and eventually the room is filled with applause and joy, joy, joy.

•    (if u think im not moving on to the reception u r sadly mis-fuckin-staken)

•    tamara was in charge of most of the reception. she chose the venue—the gardens at the gables, with its open space, fragrant flowers, and magic everywhere. she hired metal mages for the music, water mages for the furniture (“ice furniture that doesn’t melt, how fucking cool is that—“), fire mages for performances, earth mages for the fresh food, and air mages to make little images of call and aaron throughout the years float around the space. call keeps saying it’s a bit much, but tamara knows he loves it.

•    the cake—painstakingly chosen by call, since aaron couldn’t give less of a shit as long as it tasted good—is a red velvet/vanilla monstrosity covered with fondant in a strange, pastel color mix. when aaron asked why it was that color, call just muttered, “it’s the closest color to your soul.” aaron grinned until his cheeks ached.

•    tamara could have clinked the glass and quieted everyone down the normal way, but no. she used air magic to make everyone hear her say, “eyes up front.” and waited until everyone did so until she stood up, champagne glass in hand for dramatic effect. she summoned up every inch of charisma in her, and began. “you all know me and these boys have been friends since we were twelve, or—as aaron well put it in his sob-speech—family. i’d give my life for either of them, just as they’d die for each other. now, i could say a bunch of other cheesy stuff and go on about the power of love and my role as a spectator in their evergrowing romantic shitfest but i’m working to make this an unforgettable night, and what’s more unforgettable than a good ole embarrassing-yet-heartwarming engagement story.” she hears call groan behind her, which sharpens her smile even more. “they’ve been dating forever, right? since we were wee little sixteen year-olds. one late night at the collegium, while i was calmly—in a loose sense of the word—studying flame theory, call bursts into my room looking like there were five chaos elementals on his ass. i put my book down, thinking the third mage war was about to begin—we just barely avoided it last time—and ask him what’s wrong and he just says, “i think aaron is going to propose to me.” i ask him what’s wrong with that, cause i already knew they were bound to tie the knot eventually, and he just looks at me. and he silently takes out a velvet box from his pocket. and i think oh you pair of suckers.” that earned her a chuckle from the crowd. that means she’s doing good, right? “so after i treat call to some calming ice cream and send him off to jasper’s, i call aaron. apparently, he does indeed have a ring bought and ready for call. obviously, i told jasper and we sat back with popcorn to watch this all unfold. in the end, at a cute little cliche restaurant, candles and all, something happened—they still won’t tell me what—that made them both whip out the rings at the same time. or, at least, aaron did. call accidentally threw the thing and gave his new fiance a black eye. anyway, moral of the story? these crazy kids are way too in love. i thought they reached rock bottom years ago, that you couldn’t love someone more than going through all that effort, giving up a piece of your soul to bringing them back from the dead. but i can tell all of you that call and aaron keep proving me wrong. to these suckers and their happiness.”

•    also, call denied jasper the speech. he gave it to havoc instead.

◦       “havoc, speak.”

◦       (LOTS OF HOWLING AND BARKING)

◦       “fucking beautiful, man,” call says, tears in his eyes and clapping.

•    call’s been smiling slyly for a while now. aaron noticed, and frankly, he’s pretty confused. not the smiling part, obviously— they just got married oh god this is his life this is really his — but the sly part. call only ever has that smile on when he’s got a trick up his sleeve. he’s also been sharing weird glances with tamara since they arrived at the gables and it’s driving aaron a little nuts. he tried asking, but only got a “what i can’t smile on my wedding day?”, and after he gave his husband— his husband —a Look, he got a much better “just hold on, babe. all will be made clear.” so aaron stops thinking about it.

•    anyway, it’s time for the first dance.

•    and when aaron turns to call in the middle of the dance floor, he expects to see a loving, heartfelt look for a loving, heartfelt moment.

•    instead, call is seconds away from pissing himself laughing.

•    “call—“

•    “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” tamara’s voice booms over the garden, and that’s when aaron knows his best friends were up to some fuckshit once again.

•    “LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE LOVELY FUCKIN COUPLE WHO PUT A RING ON IT.”

•    and beyonce’s “single ladies” deafens the crowd.

•    call and aaron make it through the dance laughing and smiling and leaning on each other every second of it. and that’s a good enough description for the rest of the night.

[signutai]

And here it is, the entirely-unwanted followup to my last OPM manga review, this time with Volume 11! - AH YES THE AMAZING POOL PARTY PIC CHARACTERS PAGE - I could write an entire novel on that alone so I’ll just leave it at that. - For the low, low price of free, you can also see my reaction to the only part of it that matters here. - Also Charanko is cute and also Garou has obviously never seen a popsicle before in his life. - Metal Bat, calmly standing in front of the Big Fucking Monster(TM), wondering what to do about it. - This boy has guts and also issues. - Holy shit he’s so goddamn strong?? - Giant Fucking Centipede casually tosses him into a building. He casually gets up and ponders what to do next. - The panel of him jumping out of the building is precious beyond words. - Killer Move: Pumped-Up Dragon Pummelin’. I don’t know what else I expected. - The monster’s response is to wreck the whole city. This is why we don’t let you guys play with us. - Garou: expert opportunist. - “So how did you two lovebirds meet?” “Oh, I was fightin’ this giant monster, see, and--” “And he fell out of the sky like some kind of fucked-up angel!” - “Why did you fall from the sky?” Garou, I love you, but you’re a little slow on the uptake sometimes. - That stupid fucking grin on his stupid fucking face when he realizes Bat’s still alive, good God. - Bat’s mild indignation that some random fucko tried to attack him out of nowhere. - Metal Knight to the rescue? I did not expect that. - Talk shit, get hit, Garou. Don’t you know better than to monologue. Haven’t you seen The Incredibles. - Stop hitting him in the face, please. - Bat’s Crinkled Nose of Anger(TM) is awfully cute. - He’s also going to destroy what little of the city is left I guess. - “What the...?” B L U H This panel killed me why does this trash wolf child have so many great faces. - Oh my God he’s so offended that Bat’s still thinking of the monster. - This fight is somethin’ else entirely. I could probably write a whole post of reactions just on it alone. - Killer Move: Pumped-Up Brutal Tornado. Bat, my child, please let someone else name your moves, I beg you. - Ah yes. Those three panels I will never be able to see without thinking of that, “I would like to thank Murata for this Batarou erotica.” post. Edit: this one. - Shit, that was a bad blow. - SHIT - Saved by the Zenko. - Holy fuck I did not expect to see Bat just looming there. Holy fuck. HOLY FUCK. - “Big bro Bat!” 1) Why does she call him Bat. 2) I guess the whole “Badd” debate is officially over now. Edit: I guess not?? Jeez Louise, mom and dad, how much did you hate your son??? - Zenko is one tough cookie. I love that. They’re truly family. Makes me wonder what their parents were like. - “Why do I have to obey your family rule?” Because she fucking said so, wolf boy. Get with the program. - Garou once again tries to play himself off as being the toughest, meanest, most murderous motherfucker in existence, and once again refuses to kill his opponent. - This time because a little girl told him not to. - Just walk away like you didn’t start this shit in the first place, trash puppy. Garou’s such a goddamn dork sometimes. Most of the time. - After all of that and Bat’s still determined to fight the monster, good God can you talk about a one-track mind? - “I know that monster’s killing people and destroying things, but I want to go shopping!” Someone needs to teach this kid what priorities are. I love her, but damn. - Aaaand Bat’s down. Good job, kiddo. - That bird monster’s really cool, I’ll admit. Such a nice design. - oh wait i change my mind it has human hands i fucked up abort abort abort - GENJI - Why do the male monsters have so much diversity but all the female monsters are just unsettling sexy women? - Wait I know why. - We need, like, a week where we all design diverse female monster OCs for the Punchverse or something. I’ve actually got a few lying around... - MAAAAAAAX - Max looks so good in his tournament outfit. Such a good and handsome man. - Lin-Lin’s such a cutie. - Snek also looks really good in his tournament outfit. - “Was ‘bottom-ranking’ necessary?” I cry. - “Volten” is translated into “Boltane” here, and to be honest I really like the look of it. And saying it. Boltane. Nice. - “Rosie”, however, is translated into “Rogy”. Uh, no. No thanks. Put that back, I don’t want it. - Ah yes, the Nazi. Disgusting. - Update: I Still Hate Sour Face. - Suiryu looks like he’s literally twelve in his first appearance. How did he age like ten years during the course of the tournament. I mean. I feel like I aged ten years over the course of the tournament, but... - The translation for his martial art is different every time. - How is Sour Face twenty. Charanko being twenty I can buy, but not him. Did being a complete and utter dick make him age prematurely? I’ll accept that as my headcanon. - “You never could tie this right.” Charanko asks Bang for help with his belt confirmed. - Bang and Bomb: Brothers on Stakeout - The panel of Bang irritably munching on a snack while ignoring his brother is gold, I love it. - Christ, sometimes I forget just how terrifying Bang is. - I’m probably in the minority here, but Do-S interests me approximately 0%. Maybe I’m just too ace. - Leave Darkness Blade alone! Gosh. - Eyelashes just fuckin’ kicks him in the face with his immaculate dress shoe, amazing. - Aww, Genji... - DEATH GATLING MY GUN-ARMED SON - I prefer his new outfit, honestly. The old look is nice, but it’s too clean, even though it makes him look like Darkness Blade’s badass big brother (gonna hang onto that headcanon, tho). He looks much more intimidating now. Still a great character, however he looks. I love. - Ah yes, the Zoo Men bonus. Always fun. - King and his love for kid’s shows is so #relatable. - He’s such an idealist, I love him. Also, I wish he would smile more. He’s so cute when he does. - “You have to watch it.” Me with my family and chanbara, honestly. - Are you even trying to get along with these people and be helpful, Saitama? - The Hero Association bigwigs are all so repulsive, ugh. - Vore. - Metal Knight is useful for once. - Yasss King please teach Saitama how teamwork REALLY works. - Hero Association: “We’ll give you literally anything.” “Mmkay I want a better bat.” No one can say this kid isn’t a simple man with simple needs. - Don’t yell at him, Zenko. - I love the piano recital bonus. Bat just cares so much for his baby sister, and so openly. More male characters could stand to be like him. In short--or long. really, really long--another great volume! Lots of appearances by some of my favorite characters. I can’t wait to get my hands on Volume 12! In. September. For whatever reason it’s taking so long to release. -sigh-

[vaultofawurdyburd]

I’ve mentioned this before about my disillusionment with modern roleplaying but now I’m angry about it again, so I’m gonna take up a bit of space on y’alls wall of posts for you to read or ignore.

TLDR; I’m tired of playing with assholes and having meaningless quests with no value except material gain and xp reward. -------------------------------------------

Everybody I’ve talked to who knows what Dungeons and Dragons is, has expressed to me a desire to play it, “but I don’t know anyone for groups or anything.” As if it’s some cult thing that you have to know a guy or something. But when it comes to actually playing, most people realize they can’t be bothered. They’re too busy, it’s too complicated, or they realized they didn’t actually like it as much as they thought they would. And that’s fine: there is a lot of bedazzling of DnD in pop culture, and folks want to know what they’re missing out on. However.

Enter the average fucko.

More and more often now, in an attempt to find new players, the groups I’ve been in have tried to draw in the potentially-interested, have swung the “it’s a game where you can do anything you want” pitch. Which is fair: it’s a good pitch. It’s basically what the one advantage that elevates tabletop rpg above videogame rpgs. So what do people do? Anything they want. Murder, extortion, blackmail, human trafficking, rape, torture, etc. They see a game where there’s no rules anymore and after getting bored with roleplaying, they do whatever they want that would get them imprisoned in real life, because “that’s what this game is for, right? To do the things I can’t normally? Like GTA, or Saint’s Row, or Fallout?”

Maybe it’s an isolated incident. Maybe there just happens to be a particularly dense population of psychopaths that find themselves in my games. But even beyond psychopaths, the average dnd player is less concerned about roleplaying than they are about doing whatever they can to add wacky highjinks to make the game funny.

Not that there’s anything wrong with a game being funny; the beyond-the-norm circumstances provide a good stage for beyond-the-norm humor. But you know what I miss? I miss being the hero. Not just ‘beating the game’, not just completing the quest. I want the quest’s conditions to MATTER. I want the quest to be something that I genuinely want to see through to the bitter end, not for reward, not for adventure, but because it’s the right thing to do, only I can do it, and somebody’s existence will be made better for it.

What happened to saving the villagers from a curse for no reason other than they’re good people who don’t deserve this, and not for material reward? Not to stick your nose up in disdain at the value, to convince the villagers to part with a little bit extra, which might put some hardships on their future, but who cares, right? The ungrateful wimps should be more thankful you saved their lives.

What happened to quests for a magic flower to save the King’s daughter, beloved by her people? Why can’t I quest to restore a magical wellspring, and return life to the forest? Why can’t I  travel the fuck across the entire continent to the mountains in the north to get a fucking rock, not a magic rock, just a normal fucking rock, and bring it to a mountain guardian of the southern mountain range for his dying wish, because he was in love with a guardian of the northern mountains aeons ago, but then a millennia passed and continental drift split the two mountains apart?

I’m so tired, SO tired, of fighting cultists, and necromancers, and random fucking assholes who are just badguys because the DM needs somebody for the group to fight this session.

So please, if you DM, save a life, and write meaningful fantasy.