#i have a mutual who wants clowns tagged

[bald-rights]

i am so strong and sexy and a brave little man for not getting in internet fights

[fanaticsnail]

My Favorite

(Image Source: Artist: Inpolariis)

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,114

Summary: Sir Crocodile has founded a league of highly trained assassins named "The Choirs" - all coded after the nine choirs of angelic influences. You are his favorite: his prized "Seraphim" who's ferocious brutality is only outmatched by your incredible beauty. Not truly knowing if your affection is all an act to continue being paid a wage in berry, he has not made a move of his own aside from calling upon you to sit on his knee of an evening, and have you utter praises into his ear. It is only when the two other members of the Cross-Guild begin flirting does he find his limit being tested. Will he bend, or will he break?

Themes: Boss!Crocodile x Assassin!Reader, lap princess, Croc is in love with you, begrudgingly in love, mutual pining, “I don’t want to fix him, I want to make him worse”, wealth, Cross-Guild dynamics, partial Buggy x Reader, partial Mihawk x Reader, sign language, afab!reader.

Notes: This fic is dedicated to the wonderful @discordantwritings who wrote a beautiful Benn Beckman fic recently. I had to return the favor with some Cross-Guild content, although it became quickly a Sir Crocodile fic. Based on this prompt, because it has a hold over my very soul.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @writingmysanity @gingernut1314

The broad right hand of the brutish Sir Crocodile massaged his temples beneath his thumb and index finger. He began rotating them in an attempt to rid the swelling migraine caused by the crackled whines pouring from the lips of his clown companion. Barely paying attention to the whinging words strung into messy sentences, his ears pricked and spine tingled at the knowledge there was another presence within the hollow chambers of the Cross-Guild meeting space. 

Bringing his hand away from his temple, his smirk broke the displeased position of his lips, as his eyes rose to meet with the yellow hue of the gaze of the swordsman. Mihawk narrowed his eyes, no longer processing Buggy’s words as he attempted to locate the source responsible for the expression change of the larger gentleman in front of him. 

“-And I wasn’t the one responsible for that screw up, so I shouldn’t be the one paying for it. Really it should go to the one with the most berry. Who was it again? Between the reptile and the hawk, who has the most-.” Buggy’s voice halted as the shadows split to reveal your presence, stalking closer to the largest man in the room with an aura of silent danger. 

Mihawk reached for the hilt of Yoru, ready to strike your approaching silhouette: armored and cloaked in the darkest black to blend within smoke and shadow. Your hood concealed your face, your facial mask shieling all but the intensity of your eyes smeared in darkened war paint. You made no sound; no tap, no whisper as you wordlessly approached Sir Crocodile.

“Returned so soon, my Seraphim,” his voice purred, leaning back in his chair while placing a thick cigar between his teeth, “Did all go according to plan?” You wordlessly bent your knee, bowing your head to the large gentleman to whom you entrusted your implicit loyalty. His smile drew further up his scarred face, the purple hue of his eyes dancing with a dangerous twinkle at your wordless confirmation. 

“Good,” his voice praised you, reaching for his lighter lying atop the table. You rose to your feet, quickly reaching for the golden object, flicking open the lid and igniting the flint to spark its flame. Sir Crocodile leant forward, holding his eyes firmly on yours as your concentration was fixed on the task of lighting the tip of his cigar. 

He narrowed his eyes, noticing a small smear of red atop the darkened warpaint and streaking down your face mask and onto your leather breastplate. He sighed, reaching into his left hand breast pocket and fishing out a silver handkerchief and passed it to you within his index and middle fingers. 

“Is it yours?” he asked, gesturing to the blood congealed and spattered against your uniform. 

“No, sir,” you whispered with no vocal tone depicted within your silence. He hummed in response, narrowing his eyes as he scanned your body further. 

“Are you unharmed and unmarked?” he asked, his left brow raising in question. You stiffened your shoulders, arching your chin within the air and confirmed with a simple utterance of: “Yes, sir.” 

“Very good, my Seraphim,” he complimented further, inhaling a deep lungful of the nicotine laden cigar smoke, exhaling through his nose. Buggy did not know what to make of this interaction, feeling completely and utterly ignored as Mihawk and Sir Crocodile’s eyes and attention remained fixed on your statuesque figure clad in cloak, leather and dark plated armor. 

Leaning forward, Sir Crocodile ushered you to stoop forward to receive the next whisper of a command parting from his lips for your ears alone.

“I have laid out a new uniform for you to wear,” he uttered intimately, reaching up his left hand with his golden hook threatening to touch your shoulder. “See to it you are bathed, perfumed and clad in the ensemble within the hour,” the tip of his hook brushed with the rivets of your shoulder plate, dragging down your bicep to the inner crevice of your elbow, “And I will have you sat as my trophy upon my knee for the evening, my Seraphim.” 

At that final utterance, he withdrew his hook from your arm and focussed once more on your eyes now depicting a darkness within usually withheld for victims beneath your concealed daggers. 

Bowing to your boss, eyes now closed, you rose from your deep and respectful stoop and paid no mind to glance at the other two members of the meeting space. If Sir Crocodile found no reason to introduce you to these men, you did not deem them important enough to care who they were. Silence followed you as you trailed outside of the room, resubmerging yourself within the shadows and hastily making your way to the suite gifted to you by your boss.

“Baroque Works employee, Crocodile?” Mihawk uttered, his eyes fixed on the exit you withdrew from. 

“A thing of the past, Hawk,” His smirk not leaving his face for each deep inhale of his cigar, “I no longer put my faith in an amassment of bounty hunters to get their hands dirty for my berry.” He took the butt of his cigar from his teeth and pushed the ignited end against the glass tray with his thumb. “No, my faith is no longer spread to the many, but to the few.” 

“How many o’ them you got?” Buggy’s nasally voice chimed in, his brow furrowing and lips curling back in an uneasy smile, “Like twenty or thirty?”

“I have nine,” he confessed, eyes now bored with the conversation and lip curling down into an arrogant snarl, “And that one,” he gestured to the door with his chin, “Is my favorite.”

“Why?” Buggy asked, his voice cracking in a small apprehensive whine at the end of his question, “What does that one do that the others don’t?” Sir Crocodile’s lips curled into a darkened grin, his teeth revealed in the light. 

“You will see.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

After bathing and cleaning yourself of the debris and carnage of the last assignment, you glanced at yourself in your large, ornate mirror. Looking over the new uniform set aside by your boss as it clung to your body, you couldn’t help the pull of a shy smile at the corner of your lips.

Of all of “The Choirs” founded and financed by Sir Crocodile, it was no illusion that you were absolutely and without a doubt his favorite. Your titles held your specialist skills as covert assassins within your roles; each skilled with a unique ability to complete your tasks to the utmost quality. 

Principalitie, Archangel, and Angel were charged with gathering information and relaying it from a great distance. They were to look like civilians; innocent and coy with the ability to blend into a crowd seamlessly. 

The Devil-Fruit users; Dominion, Virtue, and Power, were charged with carrying out tyrannical punishment and wrath without care for the casualties they caused under the utterance of a single command from your hook-handed leader. 

Cherubim and Ophanim, the two of the higher in the chain of command, followed your explicit instruction in covert operations taken either together or separately. They were your trusted confidants, you could even call them your friends if it were not too bold to say so. 

You, his ‘Seraphim’, were silent and embraced by shadows with such flawless success that it was rumored you were born in them. You were lethal with your daggers, your skill with a blade a sight to behold before life was drained from your intended target. The last thing they saw as their breath was claimed by your hand, was the ferocity in your blown pupils and lengthy eyelashes beneath the dark warpaint smeared atop your eyelids. 

Glancing over your features once more, the pale white of the dress held stark contrast to the dark armor you adorned almost an hour prior. While your armor kept all of your features hidden to the world around you, the anonymity shielding you from emphasis on your features; this dress left little to the imagination. 

The deep hook of the backless dress clung low to your hips in an ovular shape, bodice dipping down to above your navel with a thin band of fabric dancing above your cleavage to suture the bust shut with barely any support. The length of the dress halted little below your hip bone on the left-hand side, the right hand side down to the ball of your ankle to allow for the straps of your gold heels to be revealed with each step you took against the floor. 

Your mind begins to wander the longer you stare at yourself in the mirror. This was the most provocative and scandalous item your boss had ever asked you to don. You almost allowed yourself to rush to the conclusion that your boss harbored more than simple favoritism for you, you assumed you were wearing this ensemble to impress a guest with your presence on his lap. 

Silence was nearly impossible with the gold-dipped base of your heeled shoes. Each step you took after exiting your suite echoed in a foreign clack that you were unaccustomed to creating with your foot-falls. 

Immediately upon entering the large celebratory area of Sir Crocodiles casino, you scanned the perimeter of the room for your boss to begin your new role for the night: the princess sitting upon his knee and doting on him with small caresses and whispers of praise within his ear. This was not a role you were exposed to often, but one you did well enough for him to continue asking for you after the first night you played it. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said you did not harbor affection for your boss. Nothing ever transpired between you after you had finished this role for the nights he asked you to fulfill. No brush of lips meeting yours, no writhing while sprawled out beneath him against the green fuzz of the gamblers table. He would bow his head in gratitude to you, his eyes blinking shut out of respect, and dismissing you without a further word. 

Adoration, respect, loyalty, and your wage is what bound you to that man. At each moment he spent with you on his lap, or performing a deadly task for him, your desire grew. You knew, without a semblance of a doubt, that you would cast aside your wage with an instant for the luxury of remaining by his side. You loved him, and it was the only thing that truly frightened you.

After concluding your brief scan of the room, you noticed Sir Crocodile was yet to make an appearance to darken the tables with his brutish figure. However, you smiled upon meeting the eyes of ‘Ophanim’ dressed in a simple waiter's uniform, with her sleeves rolled to her elbows and shaking a steel container filled with ice, syrups and hard liquor. She shot you a wink, gesturing with her chin to wait with her at the bar. 

An honest smile sprung to your lips as you grasped the barstool within your hands, taking a seat atop it and hooking your left knee over your right; the slit of your dress revealing the entirety of your left leg to your thigh. 

Immediately as you began to open your mouth to converse with your fellow “Choir” about her latest mission, your eyes were thrust into an amassment of lengthy cerulean hair. The person seemed to ignore you as their voice informed your friend of his order of a fruit-forward and harsh liquor cocktail with an insane amount of complex ingredients. The products he asked for sounded as if it would split and separate, with the immediate souring of creamy liquid with the acidic elements. 

Grimacing with your lips curled in disgust, the individual turned to meet your disapproving gaze: his eyes widening and breath hitching in his throat. A large, rotund red nose lay central to his features, his dark vest cinching his waist beneath a white shirt and dark trousers. He looked as if he was not comfortable wearing the assortment, as if it was a mask he was given to wear akin to your arrangement set aside by your boss. 

“You are fucking gorgeous,” he stumbled over his words, the syllables falling from his lips quicker than he could silence them within. Immediately your grimace upturned into a smile, forcing a laugh to flee from you at his unbridled compliment. You arched your left brow up, leaning in close to the individual in front of you and tightening his dark tie with your right hand. 

“You are very easy to look at, yourself,” you purred in return, assuming your flirtatious role with ease. You darted your gaze between his two teal eyes, a coy smile now pursing your lips together innocently, “And who might you be, bright eyes?” Your question had his heart swelling, his cheeks filling with a boyish fluster. 

“B-Buggy,” he wheezed, gulping back his words and grunting out a small cough to mask his uneasiness. “Captain Buggy D Clown,” he attempted to meet his elbow atop the bar, missing the polished wood entirely and instead stumbling under the uneven distribution of his weight. As air met his elbow with the heel of his palm capturing his chin, he flew his head down and met it against the wood with a harsh thump. 

Wincing in empathy, you immediately reached forward and claimed his cheeks within your palms and raised him back up to his former stature. You brushed his shoulders, readjusted his collar and checked over the rising swell atop his left temple. 

“Honey, can we get some ice please?” you asked your colleague who attempted to halt her laugh behind her palm, nodding as she retrieved the frosty cubes and placed them within a checkered tea towel. She passed it to you and shook her head, you nodding your thanks at her for the object and immediately reaching for the blunt-force trauma the blue-haired clown brought upon himself. 

“Are you alright Captain Buggy?” You asked him, holding your hand against the towel and pressing it firmly against the rising bruise. He clasped his left hand around your right, leaning into the touch you were providing him and closing his eyes. 

“I like the way your tongue makes my name sound,” he confessed in a breathy gasp. You again found yourself laughing at his words, the melodic ring of your voice stirring something dangerous within the purple hues of Sir Crocodile’s eyes. He continued watching your interaction with Buggy from his place darkening the threshold of the entrance to his casino. 

“What happened, Clown?” A voice called behind him, the curve of a pale shirt clinging to the back of a dark-haired individual you could barely see. Buggy apprehensively turned away from you and lulled his head towards the man with a snarling expression. 

“It’s her fault,” he gestured to you with his thumb, “She was sittin’ on that chair all innocent-like, as if she doesn’t look like walking sex.” 

“Hardly walking if she’s sitting,” the man called over in a bored and disinterested tone, without sparing so much as a glance in your direction. You found him intriguing, but you decided to match his energy and remain aloof to his comments yourself. 

Turning away from the two men beside you, you began moving your hands in a flurry of wordless gestures to your coworker as discreetly as you could.

‘Where is he?” you asked her, watching her hands flicker in response as she continued to attempt to uphold her own persona as bartender.

“Approaching slowly,” she managed to signal to you, before she placed a glass of wine in front of the broody aloof gentleman beside the clown. The corner of his lips ticked at the corner, a whisper of gratitude depicted on his face as he turned to face you with the crystal glass rising upwards. 

The small widening of his honey-coloured eyes told you all you needed to know within his gaze. Your head cocked to the side, your eyes wide and feigning innocence to the best of your abilities. 

“My, my,” he commented, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body from your decorated toes to the follicles of your styled hair, “I do see why you would be the cause for such a stumble.” He expertly brushed the blue-haired man away from you, extending his right hand forward to seek out your own and collecting your four fingers within his grip. 

He raised your hand to his lips, his mustache tickling the knobbed joints of your knuckles before his lips brushed against your flesh. Your eyes turned sultry, not once either of you breaking your eye contact against one another. 

Unable to control the rapidity of the thump within his chest and the dry lump forming in his throat, Sir Crocodile began a stalking approach towards you. How dare they fawn over you. You: his favorite of his Choirs. His angelic muse and harbinger of brutality. 

He knew you would make heads turn with the uniform he laid out for you, but he did not anticipate the primal urge swelling beneath him to pull you into himself and shield you away from their eyes. He wanted you all for himself, in any capacity you were willing to give it to him. He didn’t care that you were paid berry to serve him, it felt real enough for him.

“Dracule Mihawk,” he uttered against your flesh, withdrawing from his stoop and arching his back to puff his barely shielded chest to you, “And you are, my darling?” Before you could answer with your name, you felt a warm graze dancing up your spine. His breath tickled against your skin, tingling your spine beneath his lips as they pressed intent and longing to your flesh. 

On any other occasion, you may have been alarmed by such attention from an individual without seeing their face. The cologne dancing with the whisper of his last cigar floated with each kiss against your skin, informing you exactly who was giving you such a touch. 

He had never offered you this unbridled affection in the past, not allowing himself to give into his craving for you, and you not willing to test your place serving under him. This touch felt natural, his lips continuing to press into you, as you continued to hold your gaze on the eyes of the dark-haired man in front of you. 

Sir Crocodile’s lips found your left shoulder, his purple eyes pulling the swordsman’s attention away from you to meet with your boss as he continued to map his lips up your neck to your jaw. His left forearm circled around your front, the golden hook firmly secured against his wrist collecting your chin beneath the smooth surface. He turned your attention away from Mihawk to look into his eyes through lowered eyelashes. 

He leant forward, drawing your lips against his by the gentle tilt of his hook against your chin. Darting his tongue out to stroke yours, his nose brushed against your own as he circled his jaw to deepen the embrace. Your hands clutched the base of the stool you were sat atop to anchor yourself down for fear of floating to the roof. The hum of his lips in joy had a small moan pull from your lips the longer he was joined against you. 

You felt his right hand brush against your bicep, curling his firm grip around it as he pushed his chest flush with your own with a gentle turn of your body. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes immediately falling to your rapidly swelling and kiss-bruised lips, slightly smudged paint falling below the perimeter of your bottom lip. Tapping your chin with his hook, your eyes darted from your own gaze against his lips to meet with his purple eyes. 

“My Seraphim,” the rumble of his voice and the small smirk of his lips had your attention hyper fixed and hanging on his every word. You held your gaze firmly affixed to his, watching as he turned away from you and greeted the men in front of you with the nod of his head and the small utterance of their names.

“Mihawk,” the rumble of his voice rubbing within his throat had your spine tingle with anticipation, “Buggy.” He turned back to meet your orbs that had not yet broken from his face, but raked your gaze over his face with half-lidded lashes. Your eyes continued to float in a daze against his lips and flittering back up to meet his gaze. 

He extended his right hand in a gesture for you to take it, you reacting immediately by placing your hand within his larger palm to encircle his digits around it. You allowed him to pull you away from your former position atop the barstool, your heels clicking against the floor as he escorted you to the desired table for the night. Now in the shroud of seclusion, he leaned down and uttered a small apology in your ear. 

“Forgive me,” he began, taking his seat within the plush armchair and patting his left knee with his right. Without hesitation, you gracefully placed yourself atop his thigh with the small flick of your hair, crossing your left knee over your right and arching your back. 

“What sins am I forgiving, sir?” you asked him, feeling the dangerous caress of his hook brushing against your spine and collecting a small portion of your hair within its curvature. Your boss took in a deep breath through his nose, expanding his broad chest beneath his suit jacket. His exhale had a small quake to it, his eyes closing as he basked under your attention.

You reached your hands and began to dance your fingertips against the hem of his collar. Although this was a routine you had practiced with him over man a night on his lap, this touch felt almost forbidden as his brows furrowed. 

“I should not have kissed you like that,” he uttered in a voice below a hushed whisper, “You deserve better than something so public. I desire you-... -for you to be treated as a seraphim I know you to be.” His vocal catch had your attention completely focussed on every word, your body leaning itself further as your hands halted their movement. 

“I am not a seraphim, sir,” your lips were now almost brushing with the shell of his ear, your hypnotic perfume, intoxicating and mesmerizing the larger gentleman the longer your presence remained atop his lap. He angled his head away from you, exposing the side of his neck to reveal the rapidity of his heartbeat displayed against his pulse. 

“And what are you, if not a seraphim,” he whispered darkly, allowing to be disarmed by your presence as he leant into your touch, yet away from the descent of your lips upon his ear. 

“I am your seraphim,” you confessed as your lips grazed against the sensitive flesh of his cheek, his dark hair tickling against your eyes. 

Sir Crocodile was glad he had withdrawn you to a secluded portion of his casino at this moment. He truly did not desire for the other two members of the Cross-Guild to notice how much of a grip you truly had around his heart, but refused to break away from your display of unrestrained physical affection. He knit his brows together, furthering their descent down his face as he processed your words.

“Because I pay you to be,” he uttered, leaning away from your touch and forcing the mask of his arrogance back onto his features. He dropped the hook from your hair, reaching his right hand into his left breast pocket to locate a thick cigar and his golden lighter. Placing the bitten end between his teeth and clamping down on it, he drew the flame up to his lips and attempted to ignite the end. 

“I will return my wage to you,” you uttered quietly after swiping the golden lighter from his hand and reigniting the flame, “I have no need for it when you take care of me so well.” His eyes held an aloof boredom to his expression, refusing to meet with your face as you lit his cigar for him. 

“And if my wealth was taken from me?” He questioned before inhaling the smoke from his cigar, exhaling it away from your face, “If I was to go to prison once more, what then?” Your eyes narrowed, your lip curling up to reveal your displeasure at the question.

“I would claw tooth and nail to free you from your confinement, sir,” you confessed, reaching your left hand forward and collecting his chin beneath your thumb and index finger, turning his jaw for his eyes to meet with yours once more, “And although living in luxury is a welcome experience, I would stand by you regardless.” His eyes depicted his craving for your words to be true, although not believing it yourself. 

He began to open his mouth to speak, silenced by your words cutting through the air like your daggers meeting with the jugular of your foe. 

“You have my loyalty, my blades, and my body at your disposal,” you leant forward further, darting your eyes between focusing on each of his. “Should you order me to jump, I will ask how high. Should you ask me to kneel, I will fall to my knees,” you continued, your grip holding more firmly against his chin, “Should you wordlessly aim your finger at an enemy, I would be a channel of your wrath as I claim their lives for you.” 

Allowing a few moments of thick silence to swell between you, you felt the scrape of his hook trailing itself against your spine, hovering over the soft point of your rib and pressing his point firmly into your flesh. 

“While your words are as beautiful as you are,” he whispered, looking down at the plunging neck of your dress and back up into your eyes, “They are as decorated by the impact of my wealth as your body is in that dress.” You narrowed your eyes at his comment, taking the expression as a challenge. 

Shrugging away from the point of his hook, you rose to your feet between his legs and slowly drew your hands up to the thin straps on your shoulders. You hooked your thumbs beneath the material and began to slowly slip the material over your shoulders and down your biceps. Sir Crocodile’s eyes widened, immediately reaching his right hand and left forearm to halt your hands from revealing more of your flesh to him. 

“What are you doing?” His growl should’ve had your actions stuttering in any other setting, but his rasp had your heart beating in desire in place of fear. 

“I have already informed you that I will be returning my wage to you,” you cocked your head to the side, arching your back towards him and looking down at him under your lustful expression, “Why not start with the dress you claim to despise so much.” The rise of his fluster depicted in his eyes at your words had a smirk drawing up to decorate your lips. 

“What has someone like me done to deserve such devotion from you, my seraphim?” he whispered, his right hand elevating the strap of your left shoulder and securing it firmly in its prior place. You followed suit with your right strap, securing it firmly against your shoulder and leaning further into his welcome embrace. 

He leant his torso closer to you, his broad forearms circling over your own with his fingertips brushing against your skin. You began to open your mouth, confessing your adoration for your boss further upon the tip of your tongue before crudely interrupted by the presence of the blue-haired clown followed behind by the broody gentleman from earlier.

“Are we playin’ cards yet, Croco?” Buggy’s voice hitched as he met with an intimate moment shared between you and Sir Crocodile. Your boss’ hands caressed your skin, pulling you against his torso as he aimed his disapproving gaze over your right shoulder. 

He growled at the interruption, his voice holding more feral animosity than he felt he should. You drew your hand up to claim his cheek in the palm of your right hand, looking down at him with your eyes holding your unspoken answer of lustful adoration at him. His breath hitched as his gaze met with yours, prompting his right hand to grasp the flesh of your back firmer within his spread fingertips. 

“I recall you having barely enough berry to survive the last time we played, Clown,” Mihawk’s aloof tone called from beside him. Neither you nor Sir Crocodile paid either man any mind, too wrapped up in the intimate moment you were sharing holding one another. 

You removed the cigar from Crocodile’s teeth in your left hand, stooping forward and claiming his lips beneath your own. Your nose brushed against his, the kiss as hastily departing in severance of the connection as it did in its descent. He arched his chin up, chasing your retreat with his eyes closed. 

“Shall I get the table ready, sir?” You asked him in a subtle whisper, relishing in the small hum of pleasure falling from the lips of your boss. His eyes split slowly open, remaining half-lidded as he lulled his head on his neck to glance at you. The silver mark splitting his face danced in the illuminance of the soft bar light, his striking features appearing more chiseled under its glow. 

“Please,” he spoke slowly, his tongue darting out and danced as the ‘L’ passed his lips. You raked his hair back over his scalp, replacing the fallen strands in their rightful place, while leaning down once more with a smirk.

“Right away, sir,” you purred at him while returning his cigar to his teeth, watching as he bit the tip with a small snarl. Turning and walking away to collect several items to place atop the green felt for your boss to engage in a game of cards with his two unlikely colleagues, eyes fixed on your back as you exited the secluded area.

“Who is she?” Buggy’s shocked voice cracked out the stuttered question also plaguing Mihawk’s mind. Sir Crocodile relaxed in his chair, inhaling the cigar smoke deeply into his lungs and holding it. Upon it exiting from his lungs, he confessed the place you held within his heart with the utterance of two words.

“My favorite.”

[signedkoko]

Ah I jsut wanted to say that I ADORE how you write HH Mammon- he is everything to me <3

So long as your up for it, I was hoping you could write Mammon with an s/o who casually refers to him as their husband (they’re not married)? Maybe they’re talking to someone while Mammon’s in the room and he overhears them say “yeah! My husband was saying…” like it’s the most normal thing in the world!

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Mammon X Reader [Romantic]

In which you refer to Mammon as your husband, despite the fact that you aren't married. Genderneutral reader.

You and Mammon have been together for a couple years now

You'd met all the milestones, like moving in together, nicknames, and for him personally, not being exploited!

It was a feat no one had ever performed—to gain the sin of greed's trust—and it was one you were extremely proud of

Mammon never said much about it, since he never really thought about partners and just took you partially for granted

You were his, and in some way, he viewed you as a soulmate

Like, yeah? Of course you're with him? It was meant to be. Duh.

Even so, asking you out was already something that took almost a year for him, so a proposal felt so far away that he hadn't really considered it

It's not like there was a 'good age' to propose, nor did the two of you have mutual friends that married, so it was far out of his peripherals

At least, that was the case until one evening when you were at the clown pageant rehearsals, talking to some of the performers

Fizzarolli and you had a bit of rapport, and the imp always tried to make small talk with you

Mammon wasn't really listening, just looking around, when he overheard the two of you speaking

" So. What's it like to date Mammon? Not to intrude! I just can't really imagine him...like that. "

" Not intruding! Well, he's not your average guy, but he's a lovely husband. He always... "

Your voice faded out as he took in the word husband, and his jaw dropped

Fuck, yeah, okay, husband? Had he proposed in his sleep?

No way, you didn't have a ring, and he would never skimp out on a ring for you

Then he felt a strange guilt

He hurriedly vanished back to his office, marching back and forth, muttering out his thoughts

He hadn't even thought about it, but clearly you had

What if you were getting sick of him not asking? How could he have glossed over something so important to you?

Planning for a proposal begins then, as busy as he is with the pageant, you take a priority in his life

Might even call up Lucifer just to ask about spouse-having

Author's Note - Omg, thank you so much for the compliments! I feel like its a necessity because I have so many requests for him that its one of my auto recommended tags LMAO Thank you so much for requesting! I answered this so fast sorry if thats scary 🥂

[starleska]

So what I get is that most fans are spreading rumors about clown being hacked or putting words in his mouth, and some are treating him like a child who needs to be protected at all cost (which is kinda creepy behavior). And this is happening because he made a NSFW tag, right? What a way to wake up to.

hello anon! yes, you've hit the nail on the head - i'm so sorry that this was what you woke up to! it certainly had my heart rate up for a bit 😭💖 here's the situation (apologies for the long post):

Clown has now made an official separate tag for NSFW content, #PlayfellowXXX. this is excellent! much like Toby Fox did with the #Undertail tag, NSFW fanworks creators now have a separate space to place their work, meaning that individuals who don't want to see that content don't need to.

Wally Darling and Frank Frankly Voice Actor F. Frankie Frankenstein confirmed that this was real, and a decision made by the Welcome Home team.

this was quickly corroborated by Clown, who said that they have not been hacked, and he just needed some time to adjust to all of the new attention. they also found the whole outcry quite funny!

after this, Welcome Home team member Anonymous Puzzler also said that this was a mutual decision between the team, and specifically said that it wasn't coerced in any way. she also confirmed that NSFW was never prohibited in the first place - it was just asked to be private while they worked everything out.

during this time, there were a variety of reactions from people. many were elated; some were confused; others were angry and/or upset. some believed Clown was hacked; others believed he was coerced; others acknowledged its veracity, but were saddened/angered all the same.

to recap: NSFW content has never been banned, according to the Welcome Home team: they just wanted time to work out the best way to protect younger people and those who don't want to see that kind of content in an enormous fandom. the team's preference is now for all Welcome Home NSFW content to go under the tag #PlayfellowXXX. this is a decision Clown and the team have reached organically, without coercion, and for the betterment of the fandom.

there is a significant portion of folks who are distressed by this news, and who are assigning thoughts and feelings onto Clown without knowing him personally. i don't think this is terribly healthy. it's okay if you don't like NSFW fanworks; having a separate tag means you can block/blacklist, and not have to see it!

personally, i think this is a wonderful idea. i'm saddened by the backlash NSFW creators are receiving in the wake of this news - especially as someone who received some of that hate, despite never having made NSFW content for Welcome Home!

i'm also baffled by the repeated assertion that Clown has somehow been coerced into this decision by 'porn-addicted weirdos'. the Welcome Home fandom has been extraordinarily respectful of the private NSFW rule...now, it's okay for people to make NSFW content for Welcome Home, guys. we literally got the green light 😅

the creator is an adult, the characters are adults, and it's a horror project which will deal with mature themes. this really is the best way the team could've handled this kind of project suddenly getting an enormous audience with a lot of younger people! no one is 'more deserving' of being in the fandom, and no one is 'better' than anyone else for making or not making a certain kind of fanwork. certainly, no one 'owns' a tag, character, or fandom - it is a courtesy to have a separate space so that people can avoid NSFW content if they want to.

at the end of the day, i hope those who are upset get a chance to rest, and realise this isn't the end of the world. i understand how hard this might be, especially if NSFW content is a real no-go for you. but everyone's fandom experience is different, and i promise you, the NSFW creators aren't making that content just to make you, personally, feel bad! 💖 if you see someone posting in the wrong tag, or who has outdated information, just politely let them know, or mute/block/scroll on as you need to.

now, i realise i'm breaking my own rule about not weighing in on discourse...but i have so many Welcome Home followers and wanted to make this easily accessible 🙏 i hope this clears up any questions people have.

to the NSFW creators - have fun! to those who'd rather not see NSFW content - take care of yourself! i hope you all have a wonderful day :3c

[eddiediazismyhusband]

Buddie in S8 and Slow Burns:

so those of you who follow me or see my posts popping up in the buddie tags know that i am still apprehensive of believing that we will actually get buddie canon in s8. tim has done too much to destroy my trust in him as a writer, and the show has baited us with buddie far too many times for me to easily take anything as a “clear/obvious sign that buddie is happening” when it is just as likely that we are being clowned yet again

that being said, IF we get buddie canon, it needs to happen fairly quickly. I have seen a lot of people saying things like “I don’t want buddie to go canon until the s8 finale” which, i disagree with.

I know a lot of people are saying this because they want a mutual pining era, but i don’t think these people are grasping the fact that if they waited until the finale, that is 18 episodes of tv to fill with something of substance for buddie. Another eighteen episodes; almost eighteen hours of tv. Even with a mutual pining era, that is far too long for them to continue dragging this story out.

Yes, i know that if they are going for a slow burn, that that takes time, but good lord it’s been 6 seasons of actively building up to a relationship… they’ve had six years of stalling, they need to go ahead and fucking commit to it, not take 18 more agonizing episodes of them dragging their feet. If you commit to them having acknowledged feelings for each other, they don’t need more than one or two episodes of mutual pining before it would start getting old.

realistically, we could have a fully fleshed out queer arc for eddie AND mutual pining leading to buddie canon within 8a. 8 or 9 episodes is MORE than enough time to build up to that with what they have to work with— they’ve reached the point for conceivably going canon so many times that it feels like there isn’t any build anymore; it feels like they’ve parked the bus a half mile from the station, and have started doing a thorough inspection on all the parts after driving almost the whole distance.

i know we love drama and angst and slow burns— that’s the appeal of buddie as a ship; but this slowburn has been way beyond fully cooked since s4, and there is no need to keep cooking it (unless they’re just baiting us, which in that case we need to decide when enough is enough and call it a day on this show)

this is not a fanfic that has no expiration date. this show isn’t going to last forever. i ship buddie because i want to actually see them navigating a relationship— i don’t ship them to be edged for 7 years just for them to go canon for one singular episode. i want to see them bask in each other’s love, i want to see them living together with the happiness they’ve been chasing their whole lives, i want to see them encounter speedbumps, and go through hardships together. That is why i ship characters. The chase is fun for a while, but I actually want to see what happens once the chase is over, and them going canon in the last episode is not narratively satisfying to me, and at this point feels like a copout for the writers.

We don’t know how long past s8 this show will last. we don’t even know if we’re getting a s9, let alone more. it’s already unheard of for tv shows to reach this longevity post-2016, we can’t just go into each season assuming that we still have all the time in the world for them to give us buddie. the reality is we don’t have all the time in the world, and this is the make-or-break season.

we don’t need 18 more episodes of stagnant growth. if they’re going to give us buddie, they need to stop dragging it out and just give it to us if they actually intend to, not cop-out and give us a last minute kiss in the season/possible series finale.

anyway, getting off my soapbox for now, but i just wanted to get those thoughts off my chest.

[tummietown]

🌈 PLUM INTRODUCTION BLOG WOOO !! 🌈

🎉 hie i'm plum! but you can also call me clown or bee or wateva you want so long as it is not mean-spirited :o)

i use she/they/honk+ pronouns, and as far as my gender goes, i identify with a bunch of different things. to name just a few, i am a toothgender & clowngender demigirl! i am also an asexual demiromantic lesbian . if this pisses you off, you'd be glad to know that there are even more i haven't listed here !ヽ(≧▽≦)ﾉ

this is a blog dedicated to my silly little interests regarding endosama, swwh, and internal anatomy! if that is not your thing, feel free to block and move on. i do not care to hear about how you think it's gross and weird and nasty; this is my blog and i can do whatever i want with it! ✨️

for the record, everything i dabble in is strictly SFW. if you are a NSFW/irl vore blog and you follow me, i will block you and that will be that. you have your space, and i have mine . Thank You !

my tags (listed below in tags as well!) include:

#plummie arts - my arts n crafts n things ^●^ !

#plummie rambles - a place for me to talk and rant and chat about various munchies-esque things

also, i am a fairly easy-going person, but i would like it to be known that i do not want you interacting with this blog if you meet any of the following criteria:

you're under the age of 16 or over the age of 25 (current mutuals ok), NSFW blog, active in discourse, lgbtqphobic, irl vore blog, proshipper/anti-anti, against neopronouns/xenogenders, against self diagnosis or are generally just a mean and disapproving person. if you are going to judge people somebody not by their character but by their interests, orientation, personal preferences, etc., then we are not going to see eye-to-eye and i am not comfortable with you interacting with my things.

typically what i dabble in involves my own characters. i am not somebody who is in many fandoms, so you won't see too much of that from me! you get to look at my silly little clowns and creatures instead. teehee.

i think that is all from me ! hope you enjoy my funky little blog ! ❤️💙💛

[wastelandhell]

I absolutely love your character Val! I'm a newer follower so I don't know much about him, but I love whenever you draw him. could you tell me more about his story? or how he ended up with Danse or even what their dynamic with each other is?

Ah thank you <3 I used to post more "lore" stuff on here and theres a bunch if you go way back in his tag, but in the last year I've just been kind of posting a lot of out-of-context and au stuff with no connection.

Him and Danse are both very opinionated men, and those opinions rarely align. They spend about as much time arguing as they do getting along, their relationship through most of the game is equal parts mutual pining and divorced.

They are finally able to acknowledge their feelings for each other shortly before "The Nuclear Option", but mutually split afterwards while Danse tries to find himself and Val focuses on establishing a stable home for Shaun. They reconnect about a year later when the commonwealth is in less of a state of crisis, and are finally able to pursue their relationship.

You know what, I haven't posted anything about him in a while, who's ready for a

This is not going to be very edited or formatted because I am a clown so. Sorry in advance.

A brief overview?

His "real" name is Vasili Gavriilovich Andonov but he goes by Valerie Anderson wherever he can, and does his best to hide his russian ancestry. He prefers people call him Val, though most of the brotherhood soldiers refer to him as Andonov. He hates people referring to him as Vasya or using his patronymic name, though thankfully there aren't a lot of people in the commonwealth who use russian naming conventions.

He's an autistic, bisexual, depressed alcoholic who indulges in stimulants a bit more than he should. He's surprisingly good at playing guitar, especially slide blues with his steel resonator guitar. He loves aircraft and built/painted scale models before the war. He's very lonely, even when around people who like him he never feels like he belongs. His birthday is Jan 12th, which is coincidentally a sort of holiday for the cryonics community.

He'll spend a lot of time looking inward and ruminating, and can identify a lot of his personal problems, but is not very good at "fixing" them. So he just kind of mopes around and wallows in self-loathing and self-pity. He's very gullible, and hates people messing with him. While he struggles a lot socially he is very intelligent, and is a genius with anything with an engine. Before the war he worked on vertibirds for the us military. His support of the brotherhood has nothing to do with their ideals; just that they keep him fed, paid, and let him work on aircraft. He's not particularly concerned with "saving" the commonwealth, he just wants to hurt the people who have hurt him.

Gameplay-wise, he's a melee/power armour build, with his highest stats INT and END. He can built so many weird and wonderful things that either explode or he can beat you to death with. Maybe both. His LCK and CHR are pretty miserable, nobody likes him and things are constantly going wrong. Playing a melee character in survival with MAIM is... a task.

Some sort of timeline?

He's the son of Russian immigrants who met in the US, His father Gavriil was an angry alcoholic who worked for the government and his mother Lidiya was a stay-at-home mom and a fervent christian. He had a sister, Kseniya, who was almost his opposite; a very polite and reserved child.

Valerie was small as a kid; being ginger, autistic, queer, and an immigrant made him a frequent target of his peers. Paired with his fathers physical and emotional abuse at home this made him a very angry and defensive person.

He spent most of his time away from home, preferring to spend his time in the woods around their home or just walking around town. He started smoking when he was 12 and drinking when he was 14, stealing from his father. As he got older he missed more and more school, spending his time committing petty crimes and getting into trouble.

While his father was more directly hostile his mother was equally overbearing in her own way. Val would identify himself as agnostic and having no belief in god, but for all of her preaching he still harbors a lot of “catholic guilt”, and fears that when he dies he will go to hell.

As he got older he quickly sprung from a small kid to a tall, muscular teenager. While he never learned to get along with his peers he learned to adapt an imposing, aggressive and masculine personality to defend himself.

When Val became too large for his father to easily push around he turned his anger towards Kseniya, whom Val was fiercely protective of. This only raised tensions at home, and Val and his father would get in frequent physical altercations. He contemplated leaving when he was 16 and could drive, but didn’t want to abandon his sister.

Eventually things came to a head when both of them had been drinking and Valerie came home late. Their fight got particularly nasty, and Val broke a bottle over his fathers head. He was immediately out cold, and Val was left shocked, covered in his fathers blood, believing he had just killed him. This would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Kseniya was home at the time, and ran in when she heard the yelling. Val tried to convince her to come with him, but she was shocked and terrified and refused to leave. Fearing retribution, and before he could really process what he had done, Val took any cash he could and the keys to his fathers car and fled.

He sold his fathers car and got something less traceable, which he lived out of for the next several years while he jumped around state to state. He picked up the occasional day job, but mostly supported himself by stealing cars and running drugs.

After he left is when he began going by Valerie Anderson. At first it was out of fear that he was wanted under his legal name, but he soon realized how much better people treated him if he had an “american” name.

When he was 20 he was eventually picked up for a minor offense, but given the political climate at the time he was offered the opportunity to join the military rather than face charges. As much as Val hated the government he was still very afraid of being connected to his fathers murder, and jumped at the chance to avoid any legal issues.

In his time in the military he discovered a love for aircraft, and pursued it doggedly. He got his GED, and went on to earn a masters in aerospace engineering. He never bothered with friends or relationships, he put all of his time into education and work. Lived and breathed for aircraft.

While Val enjoyed his job he continued to struggle with his mental health and substance abuse. He would frequently get into fights, eventually he got into a bar fight bad enough he nearly killed someone, getting the scars on his face at the same time.

While he was in trouble with the law he would end up working with his new attorney, Laura Walsh. She was elegant, graceful, composed, brilliant, persuasive, someone who always got what she wanted. And had terrible taste in men. Before the case was even over they started hooking up.

Their relationship was strictly friends-with-benefits, neither of them really cared for the other as a person and it was just sex. Over time, despite their best efforts, they came to see past the carefully crafted personas that they both presented to the world and fell in love with the people behind them.

He was 29 when they met, and they married less than 3 years later. They were moved to Boston for Val’s work, and it seemed like they would be staying for a while so they tried to establish themselves. Val tried to quit drinking around this time but struggled to face reality sober for the first time, and frequently slipped back.

Laura had always wanted children but Val was initially very against the idea. He still held a lot of unaddressed trauma from his own childhood and did not feel that he could ever be a good father.

Eventually Laura convinced him otherwise, and he agreed, again making an effort to clean himself up. When she fell pregnant his anxiety led to him having a breakdown at work, afterward he admitted himself to an inpatient rehab and spent 6 weeks there. From here until the start of the game was probably the best time of his life; sober, medicated and attending regular therapy sessions.

While Val was worried about his capacity to be a father, as soon as Shaun was born he lost that. That kid was his life, he did everything for him. He stayed on a break from work while Laura returned to practice, being a stay-at-home dad and throwing himself into domestic life. He even built a robot housekeeper!

His sister tracked him down somewhere around here and they began communicating through the post. She reveals that his father survived the attack, and was still alive, though she hadn’t spoken to him in years. They were planning to meet in person in the winter, though obviously that didn’t happen.

He was 33 when he went into the vault, and the main fo4 plot takes ~3 years to complete, but I think I’ve made this post long enough and I am too drunk and tired to keep typing. Safe to say hijinks ensue.

tl;dr hes an orange cringefail loser, and im hopelessly in love with him.

[1mlostnow]

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞!!

Hi!! I’m Evan! This is Intro Post IV.

- Red text is primary information, things that I’d like to bring attention to, or just things I’d like to elevate above the others

I’m genderfluid, I only use he/him, I don’t have a label but I mostly like guys, and I’m a minor!!! If you’re 18+ feel free to interact but please don’t DM me or send asks.

[spotify] [insta] [wall of text] [tone tags] [ppth staff]

This intro post is incredibly long so I put primary info before the cut ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ I love using those faces

Apologies if the red or the Blinkies are hard on the eyes :<

Other Blogs ⇩

EvanRadio : @evan-radio

Poetry and Writing : @1mfoundnow

House MD [B. Corcoran] : @head-of-forensics

House MD [G. Kramer] : @plastic-surgeon-gabi

Blinkies below the cut and throughout intro :>

Table Of Contents ⇩

1. The Basics

2. Fun Facts

3. My Resume

4. Primary Music

5. Guide To Tags

6. Hobbies

7. Other Media

8. Kinnie List

9. Primary Fandoms

10. Cast List

11. Outro

[ The Basics ]

- I absolutely adore nicknames, feel free to call me anything you want; chances are I’ll be fine with it

- pretty basic DNI -> homophobes, transphobes, racists, xenophobes, proshippers (wincest ಠ_ಠ)

- feel free to interact or spam (the good kind), my notifs are off so you won’t be bothering me at all!! Feel free to do asks or anons as long as yr a minor, I love love love answering asks. I promise I’m not scary, I don’t bite (anymore lol)

- I would prefer it as a personal boundary that you don’t DM me unless you truly deem it fit, those 1 on 1 situations tend to be incredibly uncomfortable for me. If there’s truly something you’d like to speak to me about in private, go for it.

- I love my mutuals to death. Whether we talk every day or haven’t spoken once, ily :)

- I greatly appreciate tone tags!!! There is a list at the top of this intro with a tone tag guide!

- CDT timezone, typically active from 7 AM - 12 AM (this will change to 6-8AM and 5-11PM soon)

[ Fun Facts ] + notes

- my car’s name is TOMATER (all caps)

- im the ninth wonder of the world

- I love doing little drawings

- if you want one just ask (examples at end)

- once again I love love love my mutuals

- Richard Cameron defender for life

- theme changes often

- ADHD & severe social anxiety

- if you ever draw anything for me I’ll love u forever

- The Man Who Would Be King (6x20) is the best SPN episode and nobody can convince me otherwise

- if I don’t respond I swear I’m not ignoring you!! Chances are I said ‘I’ll answer later’ and then forgot—just @ me!!

- if you ever have any corrections for one of my posts (typo, incorrect facts, hurtful language) please please let me know whether it be public or private, as the last thing I’d want to do is upset anybody.

[ My Resume ]

- Professional Ghostbuster, Midwestern Cowboy, Supervillain (for the fits)

- Bug you put in a jar with sticks and leaves and a few holes in the lid so it can breathe kinda guy yk?

- Weird kid and loser for life (I’m happy this way)

- I believe I’m incredibly funny (tell me if I’m not)

- Most sentences have bonus sentences (for the thoughts that didn’t fit into the sentence right)

- hot feral scientist

[ Primary Music ] + fav song by each (‘m basic wtv)

- AJJ -> Getting Naked, Playing With Guns

- Cage The Elephant -> Spiderhead/Halo

- Car Seat Headrest -> Life Worth Missing

- David Bowie -> Rebel Rebel

- Radiohead -> Karma Police

- Seb Lowe -> The Man, The Myth

- The Front Bottoms -> Be Nice To Me / More Than It Hurts You

- The Smiths -> Pretty Girls Make Graves

- Vundabar -> Worn/Wander, Sad Clown

- Will Wood -> Memento Mori

[ Guide to Tags ]

- #evan speaks -> yapping time, applies to majority of my posts

- #evan rants -> I’ve got a lot to talk about!!

- #evan draws -> I draw :3 some art at the end

- #evan can’t vote -> US politics (doesn’t come up that often, but still)

- #evan loves his mutuals -> y’all are my best friends and ily sososo much

[ Hobbies ]

- Occasionally crocheting

- Reading and writing

- I play alto sax in marching band (never rains on the *redacted* 🫡🌧️)

- loveeee art so much, specifically pencil drawing and painting

- idk if music counts as a hobby (listening+playing)

[ Other Media ]

Shows -> Supernatural, Sherlock, House MD, My Babysitters A Vampire (Rory my beloved), Scooby-Doo, Over The Garden Wall

Movies -> Dead Poets Society, Ghostbusters, Velvet Goldmine, The Truman Show, Goonies, Stand By Me, Saw Franchise, IT 2017

Others -> Homestuck, The Secret History, getting into newer classics (highschool english class books tbh), I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream

[ Kinnie List ]

Steven Meeks (DPS), Castiel (SPN), Richie Tozier (IT), Truman Burbank (TTS), Egon Spengler (Ghostbusters), Adam Stanheight (Saw), Henry Winter (TSH), Will Graham (Hannibal)

[ Primary Fandoms ]

Supernatural, Sherlock, Dead Poets Society, Homestuck, Ghostbusters, House MD

[ Cast List ] <- y’all are like my family ily

@pingunaa @ghostboyhood @wordssricochet @poetsinnyc @meekspeaks @midwest-quill @yourfavvgal @alightelixe @lv3buzzz @craicapparition @asclexe @lefthandedspaghetti @notcatseatheadrest @wilsons-three-legged-siamese @de4d-poet-kisser @cherrishnoodles @blakenation1 @desire-mona @prettypinkbubbless @sesamie @hemlocksloadofbull @mighthavebeenmurder @tired-and-bored-nerd @neil-perrys-suicidal-tendencies @sillyhyperfixator

^^ if we ain’t close like that lmk and I’ll take you off dw ♥︎ and if I somehow missed you please please tell me and I’ll fix it right away, there’s some people I was gonna add but I wasn’t sure if we were friends like that yet lol

Outro!!

If you made it to the end of this thank you thank you thank you so much it means the world to me.

I can’t add more photos, so I’ll make and link a separate post with my art, so you can decide if that’s something you’d be interested in!!!

[ art here!! ]

[mangoisms]

i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute) masterlist

pairing: tim drake x f!reader

In which you manage to have a meet-cute in your apartment building's laundry room with Tim Drake.

full summary: Living in Gotham City is always unpredictable.

However, the stakes that you face are not vengeful rogues or trigger-happy clowns, but rather the mystifying case of a cute guy... experimenting with his laundry? And not, like, some Joker type experiment but... a genuine experiment with a rotating list of detergent types. Maybe which one works best? Maybe he just has no idea how to do his laundry? Who knows?

You should leave it alone. You should leave him alone.

Obviously, this does not happen, and you somehow end up friends with Tim Drake.

For you, chronically lonely for the last few years, this is great. Good. Awesome.

For the feelings that grow inside you that are decidedly not platonic?

Not great.

But... nothing is impossible. Especially here in Gotham City.

contains: canon-typical violence, meet-cute, mutual pining, light sprinkling of angst, not actually unrequited love

ao3 | wattpad | fic playlist | story tag

🧺 chapter index; status ━ complete

chapter one... short of breath

chapter two... out of my depth at this altitude

chapter three... like the world makes sense

chapter four... even if it hurts

chapter five... go ahead and pull the pin

chapter six... i'll be the dangerous ledge

chapter seven... you be the parachute

chapter eight... you are beautiful like i’ve never seen

chapter nine... what if we could risk everything we have

chapter ten... and just let our walls cave in

chapter eleven... atlas: heart

bonus oneshots

i don’t want you to the bone (i just need to lay down with soft skin close) ━ established relationship, sickfic feat. tim’s missing spleen (also available on ao3)

come back to bed, my love, my light is low ━ established relationship, hurt/comfort (also available on ao3)

i want your hands, your future plans (to the bitter end) ━ established relationship, suggestive content (also available on ao3)

[phynali]

Tumblr tip sheet for twitter refugees

i’ve seen a lot of different advice posts but none that had what i consider all the key advice in one spot, so here we are. long post ahead.

-

1. your dash can be put into reverse chronological order and it is a BETTER experience if you do that

Go to your settings -> Dashboard -> Preference

Turn “Best Stuff First” OFF

2. you can (and likely should!) turn off algorithmic content

Under the same menu. Settings -> Dashboard -> Preferences

There are two algorithms on tumblr.

One is “In your orbit” and I fucking hate it. i want to see the content that I like, not that some random person i follow likes. if i wanted to see that content on my dash, i’d follow the people who put it there.

The other is “based on your likes” and it is hilariously bad because if you like a post for something you don’t normally like or follow (e.g., when I watched a new movie and liked one post about it), you’ll suddenly get a dozen posts about that thing and only that thing.

I keep it on because it’s hilariously bad, but i honestly recommend turning it off. it routinely recommends shit to me that i hate and i have to keep telling it that i am “not interested in this post” for things tagged with my nOTP, but until / unless i filter that ship tag out entirely, i will keep being serviced those

3. filtering / blacklisting is your friend

this is true on every platform, not just tumblr. i’m sure veteran twitter users are well-versed in it, but just as a reminder. you will be expected to filter your own content/dash here on tumblr, and if you complain about seeing something that was properly tagged, you will be rightly mocked as a clown.

Settings -> Account -> Content You See

you can filter both tags and post content. There’s a completely innocuous post i absolutely hate that does rounds and is never tagged, and i almost unfollowed a mutual for how much i hate that post and them reblogging it so much. but i typed a specific sentence from that post into the “filtered post content” options and BOOM - haven’t seen it since. glorious.

4. content controls are your friend

under the same “Content You See” menu. You are automatically opted OUT of seeing this stuff, so you MUST opt in to see mature content.

you’ll want to determine your own preferences, but i prefer to see all of the mature content types that may be hit with a community label.

5. long posts are (probably) your friend

tumblr cuts posts over a few lines if you have this turned off, and it’s really annoying and really truncates your experience of the website. THIS is itself a long post!

part of the quintessential tumblr experience is being annoyed by the “do you love the color of the sky” post.

seriously, this isn’t twitter. we aren’t here for 280 character bite-sized posts. i 10/10 recommend keeping long posts on.

Settings -> Dashboard -> Interface

6. blog-specific settings

there is also a menu for additional settings (including updating the appearance etc) for each blog you have (your main, and any sideblogs).

this is near the end of your options under Settings -> Blog Settings (click the individual blog to update)

under your blog settings you can...

- enable your custom theme (which you should! this is turned off for new users but personalizing your page is part of the experience)

- decide if you want people to know what posts you’re liking and who you’re following. i do NOT, so these are off. internet privacy is allowed on tumblr, and don’t let anyone bully you into thinking you need to make everything public for their supervision. consume all the problematic content your little gremlin content desires and tell people to fuck off if they take issue with that.

- determine if and how others can interact with your blog!! there some settings about asks, messaging, tipping (if you’re here to make $$), whether people can even SEE your blog, if it’s searchable, etc. tumblr gives power and control back to the users! use that power!

here, you can specifically set your “Ask” preferences to on or off, and to accept or NOT accept asks from anonymous users / logged out users.

if you’re here to interact with friends or just vibe, or don’t reblog a lot of asks games or encourage anon inbox messages, and/or especially if you’re getting harasment and don’t want to deal with shitty users, it is okay to turn off anons, and i ENCOURAGE you to do so.

i keep it on for my fandom sideblogs and off for my main and this makes me happy. do what makes you happy.

7. etiquette and interface

- change your icon so no one thinks you’re a bot

- reblog posts so your account isn’t empty. also, with  algorithmic content turned off by most users, YOU are the algorithm, and interaction on this website is strongly encouraged. making or reblogging posts part of the experience and sort of the whole point

- reblog tagging: individual preferences apply. instead of adding a comment on a reblog, users will often add their thoughts in a tag, if they aren’t specifically looking to engage in a dialogue or add on to the post itself. other users can then decide to copy their tags (often with “prev” for “previous” appended) or even copy/paste them into a comment on their reblog, which is your tags “passing peer review”. people also tag to index posts so their blog is more searchable, and to include trigger warnings and content warnings related to a post. you can also choose to not tag anything. it’s your blog, do what you want.

- tags are how people find new content. if you make a new post and want people to find it, they will be searching the tag related to that content, so tag it accordingly. people can also follow tags and get notifications when new posts are made into that tag.

- do not censor words! this isn’t tiktok or twitter. we say ‘fuck’ and ‘kill’ here. if you write “unalive” or censor swears or triggers, people’s content filters do not work, and you will have undermined their ability to curate their content, moderate their experience, and avoid triggers. don’t do that. just spell out the whole goddamn word, please.

- you can make sideblogs under a single account! this means you have your main, which you interact (like, reply, and follow) from, but which can be used to have a space for all your posts and reblogs on a given topic (fandom, hobby, fixation, whatever). you can also direct message to/from a sideblog and accept asks etc.

- if you use tumblr in your browser, there is an add-on called XKIT. this used to be a tumblr user staple and allowed for a lot of functionality that tumblr didn’t used to have. tumblr has since very much upped their game, but it can still be worth using XKIT if you’re regularly in a browser and not on the app. for example, it includes some ad-blocking capabilities. I use “New Xkit” and have a few personalized settings with it.

- posts go around forever on this site and new memes crop up every day, retreat, and then resurge out of the blue randomly. this makes for tumblr-wide in-jokes that circulate for years, like “do you love the color of the sky” and the “color theory children’s hospital” post. if you don’t get these, you can ask and i’m sure tumblr will deliver, but you can also wait around and follow more people and these will turn up eventually.

- your dash is what you make it. your interaction is what you make it. you have control, you are not at the mercy of algorithms and advertisers if you don’t want to be. paying for ad-free browsing is an option. they even give you the option to toggled your ad settings within ad-free browsing. seriously - you. have. the. control.

this is something that we love about tumblr and one of the things that makes it our hellsite (affectionate) instead of our hellsite (derogatory). if you’re finding your experience to be negative but still want to stick around, i encourage you to block accounts or content that makes you unhappy or anxious, to follow the accounts that bring you joy, and to adjust your settings into whatever makes you happiest and least stressed out.

[siennasfix]

Pareidolia

Summary: This story is set sometime in the future. Hyunjin is a claimed son of Aphrodite. Y/n and her sister are the only unclaimed children who know the identity of their godly parent. They’re college students in Camp Jupiter. A new streak of murders takes off and all the tracks point to Luna, Y/n’s nine-year-old sister, which leads to Y/n making it her mission to prove the little girl’s innocence. One mishap leads to another and Hyunjin and Y/n find themselves working together to find out what they can do to solve the mystery.

Notes:

 This fic is inspired by the world of Percy Jackson and will contain many elements of the Hunger Games franchise. I’ve been a fan of both for years and I thought I’d try my hand at weaving both of these universes so that they flow seamlessly. Regarding mature themes and violence, it will definitely lean more on the Hunger Games side of the spectrum.  This fic is going to be long af so buckle up. There will be 3 books, the final chapters of which will be marked in the endnotes. I have an idea of how many chapters the entire fic is going to be, but of course, it might be longer than I have planned because I want to describe everything in such explicit detail that it WILL drive many of you nuts, and there's also the thing with me wanting to give the characters their chance to shine and develop properly. The girls that get it, get it. The point is; this fic might take not months but years to finish and the finalization will keep me from ending it all so I’ll try my best not to die before then.  This fic will contain mature themes. There will be many lighthearted moments but it’s more of a reprieve from all the heavy shit going on than anything. So do not read this if you’re expecting a cheerful romance or a happily ever after for every character. In addition to this, there will be depictions of death, torture, assault, sex, and so on, things that not everyone can stomach, which is more than fine but just be sure that this is your cup of tea before starting to read it. I will try to tag it as well as I can for each chapter and include the TWs in the beginning notes so don't skip them. • An array of power dynamics will be depicted as the story progresses. • The romance ranges from sweet to radioactive so keep that in mind. • Romance tropes: 1. Hyunjin x Reader- enemies to lovers, annoyances to lovers, mutual pining, dark romance, obsessive lovers, don’t blame me love made me crazy coded 2. Jisung x Minho- mutual clowning, friends to sort of strangers to fwb to lovers, they got that 80s rock aesthetic vibe going on 3. Seungmin x Jeongin- initially unrequited, strategy meets theatre, friends to lovers  I’ll try to update regularly, maybe once every two or three weeks. This is more for me to be honest as I’m a major procrastinator and this might help me sit my ass down and WRITE.  Make sure to always read the opening notes as many warnings pertaining to the events of the chapter, ones I have been unable to include in the tags above, will be revealed there.

Book I: Part I, Part II, Part III

Book II: Part I, Part II, Part III

Book III: Part I, Part II, Part III

[friendball-irl]

Tag-a-Friend Ask Game!

Heya, folks and pals! I present to you: my very own ask game! This one's all about tagging your mutuals or people you follow! Can either be IC or OOC, and consider giving an explanation to your answers!

❤️ (Heart) - Who is someone you consider yourself pretty close to?

⭐ (Star) - Who do you respect a lot as a member of the community?

🤡 (Clown) - Who do think is consistently really funny?

🩹 (Bandage) - Who do you want to give a hug to the most?

👻 (Ghost) - Who is someone you'd like to interact more with?

🧠 (Brain) - Who is someone who you have had a meaningful experience with?

🤝 (Handshake) - Who would you trust with an important secret?

💥 (Explosion) - Who do you want to have a Pokemon battle with the most?

🔥 (Fire) - Who do you want to have a fistfight with the most?

😈 (Devil) - Who do you know who you think is the most likely to get arrested?

✨ (Sparkle) - Who do you know who you think is the most likely to secretly be a superhero?

📢 (Megaphone) - Who is someone you'd recommend new/other people to check out?

Have fun!

[cursedvida]

THE PRINCESS AND THE CLOWN (c.10)

Hello hello! First of all, I want to thank everyone who is always commenting and supporting me in various ways. I didn't expect this fic to be liked so much, but I not only thank you for that but also for all the compliments about my writing. It really encourages me a lot and makes me very happy, so thank you very much!

I want to mention that this chapter is a bit shorter than usual because I've been writing it during my exam week, and it couldn't be longer. But I promise the next one will be juicier ;)

I hope you enjoy it, and thanks again for everything <3

RATING:+18 / Explicit TAGS: Drama, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Romeo & Juliet trope, Idiots in love, Drama, Romance, Unresolved sexual tension, Eventually Smuth, Age Gap, Reader is in her 20s, Insecure Buggy, Strangers to lovers. Unresolved romantic and sexual tension. Mutual pining.Romantic Buggy. Romantic Fluff. Forbidden Love. A lot of drama and obstacles in the way of love. PLOT: As the daughter of an eminent Marine Captain, your fate seemed sealed from the beginning: you would live neatly by the rules, you would never cause anyone a headache and if you ever got married, your future husband would be a man of honor and a wealthy family. And while it's true that things don't always turn out the way you think they will, among all the possibilities, the one of a clown with a pirate flag crossing your path was not something anyone would have imagined.

@randomly-a-fan @lostfirefly @bepo-is-sorry

[op-sys-chaos]

Fic Tag Game!

@'ed by my fabulous mutual, @brucewaynehater101

Rules:

Make a list of five (or so) of your WIPs for your followers to choose from

Post a snippet from one of your fics that you've worked on in the past week

Your followers get to send an ask with one of your WIPs!

You must then write a paragraph or so in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write a paragraph on it anyway and then another that you can share from something else

I do recommend adjusting the writing requirement depending on the size of your following. The point is to make some progress, so if you're not expecting a lot of asks, maybe make your goal bigger, and the inverse is true for large followings. Do you.

That's it! You can invite others to join in or just post.

No pressure tagging @batfambrainrotbeloved and @corkinavoid. If you see this and want to join, feel free to!

(for me, since I don't have a large following, I'm going to do this as chapters! If I get an ask, I'll write a chapter)

Fics and Snippets:

1. The Pit Made Me Do It (And I'm So Sorry): If Jason wanted his mind back, if he wanted to feel any positive emotion ever again, he had to kill his new adoptive brother [Tim Drake].

2. In Another Life: As he made contact with the [reincarnation amulet], Danny [Fenton] closed his eyes, and baby Dick Grayson opened his eyes in a hospital moments later.

3. Twins, or What It Takes to be Resurrected: Danny hadn’t seen his twin [Damian] since he was 7. He didn’t expect to see him again as a ghost.

4: A Message from the Dead: Looking for a Ghost: “Bruce received a video from someone named Danny two days ago. Someone with black hair and blue eyes. Someone who was the long lost twin of his other son, Damian. The video was apparently set to auto-send after three days. But we’ve actually been looking for Danny for a month now, ever since his bio-mom told us about his existence. Bruce is his bio-dad.”

5. Fragmented Universe: the Hope of a Wraith: As he finished the last word, the candles flared, and one bright flash of light later, Tim looked up and saw the grin of a clown, a crowbar swinging, and then stars as said crowbar collided with his head.

Just survive this, Tim, he thought to himself. You did the important part. You got Jason out of here. Now survive this without letting on that it’s you and not him. You can cry out in pain later.

And survive he did. After what felt like an eternity, the Joker set his bomb and left.

I have other fics as well, so you can also name one of those and I'll probably write for it, but these are the ones I'm guaranteeing I'll write more of!

[millenniallust4death]

You know I'm all about curate your online experience. And you get what you get here. Post what you want on your fucking blog. But I'm also a person who consistently tags every post on my blog. Longtime mutuals will send me posts and their only comment is the correct tag from my blog. You don't have to see any post you don't want to see while following me. Hate meat clowns? Block the #meat clowns tag.

I'm politely asking if you post nudes to consider tagging them so I don't have to see 50 photos of nude young girls (or young boys or nude whatever). Sure. I can hit unfollow but a tag would also work and allow us to remain connected.

What's with the Puritan vibe, Laura? Capitalism. Working in a very conservative institution. I'm old and feel uncomfortable looking at nude teens. I worry if the nudes were shared with informed consent (ie. revenge porn). Dealer's choice.

[thatuselesshuman]

Writer Questionnaire Tag

Thank you for the tag @wyked-ao3

It's always fun to do one of these lol

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!

I've had a Tumblr account for about 6 months or so but I've only been a 'writeblr' for a couple months.

What led you to create it?

Idk tbh. I kinda just decided that I wanted to share my writing and it led me here.

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

All of the creativity is amazing. I'm a whore for lore and world building, and the worlds that y'all come up with are immaculate. I could only hope to think of a world that vast and interesting.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Please ddon't take me seriously. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I'm not just a clown, I'm the entire circus. The day you take me too seriously (especially as an author) is the death of my whimsy.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

Nothing I can really think of. I'm pretty happy with how it is rn lol

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Bloody Hands are Kind and None of Us Heroes are always floating around. They're never not beating my ass with ideas and scenes.

How long have you been working on them?

I've been working of the series component of Bloody Hands are Kind since February, and None of Us Heroes for about 1 and a half months.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

None of Us Heroes started from the Honkai Star Rail brainworms known as Adventurine and Dr Ratio. Their designs and story inspired the two main characters of None of Us Heroes. The series component of Bloody Hands are Kind was basically me shoving a long-standing OC of mine into the Hunger Games universe and praying it would work.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least a few hours a day, usually when I'm laying in bed trying to fall asleep. My array of illnesses make falling asleep hard and I find that thinking about my stories makes it easier to forget that I'm not asleep (and therefore hopefully fall asleep).

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Whatever the voices command."

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

Meh I say that because I find it funny so idk if I'd change it.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created. Side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

OHH LORD THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG LIST. So we got Adrian, Nova, Amarantha, Jack, Cora Beth, Ben Al-Badawi (x3), Jack Collins, William Talt, Blue, Zero, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Azrael (aka Amane), Lucifer, Achlys, Quinn Amsel, Atlas Selic, Michael, Adena, Nakir, Evangeline, Celeste, Saeko, Gabriel, Kaz Anderson, Caspian, Jyn Osaka, Nikolai Sevigny, Cyril, Kylan Whitlock, Kestrel, Leo Valandi, Anaïs, Delph, Laz (short for Lazarus), Neo, Roland, Tobias, Will, Mirwais, Simon Cruz, Conrad, James Blackthorn, Alessandra Snow, Max Foster, Benyamin Safi, Haeyun Sin, and Dante Silvestre. There are more, but I either don't care enough to write them down or I've forgotten their names.

Who’s the most unhinged?

Blue 100%. He's not human and it is not uncommon for his species to be cannibalistic. He's not, but he's still unhinged asf

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Max Foster. He's easy to write because me and him share a lot if similarities.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Oh definitely. A lot of my old characters are cringy.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters? AKA, do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?

Dude idk what to tell you, whenever I try and force my characters to do something I hit the biggest writer's block wall I've ever seen.

On Writeblr Engagement

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? And do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? For example, as Asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on AO3, etc.

YES YES PLEASE ASK ME!! Anyways, I don't really care how you ask (I just want you to ask lol), but if I had to pick it'd either be asks or comments on Ao3. Though ofc I still love questions in any and all forms, even if it's something like making a separate post and tagging me loll.

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on WIPs, or vibes?

I mostly follow people if I think their cool or if I find myself consistently liking their posts as they come across my dash. I don't follow people often tho lol. I only follow abt 20 people I think.

What makes you decide against following?

If their vibes are too negative, if they're super political, if their content doesn't align with something I care about, or if they're super anti something I am. Any combination of those could be the reason I don't follow.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Yes. I think about other people's WIPs and such all of the time. I love stories, what can I say?

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Of course! As I said, I don't follow many people so I don't have many mutuals. I love interacting with different people though, so I'm happy to strike up conversations with random people I find cool!

@moltenwrites @willtheweaver @the-golden-comet @katenewmanwrites @agirlandherquill +open tag