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#it has...promise. it does
vakarians-babe · 2 years
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i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about ROP but tbh i will likely not be posting about it much bc for me Tolkien has always been so deeply personal and i want to experience it with as much privacy as i can muster? idk if that sounds weird lmao but i'll summarize some of my early thoughts in the tags and probably promptly not speak about it until it's finished airing.
#it has...promise. it does#am i irritated they teased us with shots of valinor? of the feanorian oath in like majority of promos?#and then ended up showing us like 1 minute of silm content? yea oh my god yea#but i understand its a rights issue#what bothers me MORE though is celeborn not existing and galadriel and elrond being besties#bc it makes me fear a romance plot#and i lived through thinking twilight was good and the bella/jacob to bella/renesmee transition and i will not go through it again#and the reason it bothers me is that celeborn and celebrian are IN lotr. they are included in the rights purchased by amazon.#which is wild to pay millions and not use every scrap#and im honestly deeply concerned by the fact that arondir was the first elf to get called a knife ear#bc why him?#and this just leads me to a larger concern about the way that power relations between races will be handled#bc elves arrived on middle earth first yes and then mostly migrated to valinor before returning to the midst of the humans#and there is a big power imbalance there and it treads the line of colonialism#and i think to tell these stories#the writers should be working closely with sensitivity readers#i already know we'll never really see a redress of the way peter jackson heroicized rohan so completely that everyone forgot the atrocities#that they committed against the dunlendings#whom they colonized#and so im deeply wary of the way these stories will unfold if the writers arent engaging properly with our lived in context#that said!#i love the costumes. i love the world. the soundtrack. the acting.#am i miffed about lore shit? god yea and thats my fuckin cross to bear lmao#but the harfoots <3#i love arondir and bronwyn to pieces and i hope against hope they'll get a good story#so yeah i love parts of it and im concerned about other parts and irritated by some things and love the ingenuity of other things#you can love and hate ROP we exist aspidfjhgs[diufg#this was super long sorry#rings of power#also one more thing
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zillychu · 3 months
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human form reveal! he wears his hair in a variety of styles, which include: whatever Sam or Tuck want to do that day (if left alone he will simply do nothing and get it caught in everything)
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thebibliosphere · 2 months
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I feel like I've complained about Tim's email situation in Gotham Knights before (edit: I have), but the truth of it is just so funny.
He's signed up for so many podcasts, video game streamers, and random news alerts; it's just a constant barrage of data going straight into his constantly whirring brain. Hell, he even floats the idea of the Batfamily having their own podcast as a way to correct misinformation about them (which Jason shoots down instantly), and it's made me realize something.
Timothy Drake would be a YouTuber.
In this universe specifically, Timothy Jackson Drake, the heir to Drake Industries and the foster son of the late Bruce Wayne would be a YouTuber.
Think about it. It'd be the perfect cover. Who would ever suspect that some 16-year-old nepo baby with a YouTube channel could ever be Red Robin? You'd have to be mad. I mean, look at him.
Red Robin just dropped out of literal thin air and garotted someone four times his size, and you expect anyone to believe that's the same kid who does 24-hour Minecraft charity streams and occasionally drops 6-hour video essays (his last one was on Lex Luthor's illegal bit mining operation on the moon)?
That kid?
You think that kid is Red Robin?
Ch'yah, okay, sure. And the Joker is funny 🤡.
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zehecatl · 5 months
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holds your face so fucking gently please leave reviews for indie games. please. every single review legit counts, especially if the game is small enough, and you don't even gotta say much if that's the problem!!
like, anything from a long ramble to a simple 'it was good' matters, because steam (and probably also the Other Ones) uses an algorithm. so the more reviews, the more exposure, the more money the dev team gets. like, please. please. leave a review. throw your small indie dev team a bone
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diamondsheep · 3 months
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What do you mean >:3 face ?
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He got embarrassed bc Sanji keeps annoying him with "not" knowing about that face ( which he does on purpose just to get that same reaction from the Marimo )
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Lackadaisy Enrichment
#in our enclosures!!#video linked as source; which i'm glad to see already has a million views and is trending. That's Right#lackadaisy#WHICH i have been reading since at least '07 when i was thirteen my god b/c this animation is based on the ongoing webcomic#like does its influence show up Directly in some Discrete way i can point to in my art? not very easily probably. And Yet.#the inspiration....i wasn't able to be Regularly Only for at least another year / art done Nonprofessionally Online was novel to me#like wow ppl can make & post fanart of w/e they love huh....didn't know webcomics were a thing & i never really read that many since but.#good god the quality of Lackadaisy at its onset is like this is superb?? this person putting in all their talent and effort???#and Then you get years & years more art and i don't even know what superlatives to throw out abt its quality as it evolves. obsessed w/it..#if i see a new lackadaisy comic page i Will be acting out. obviously this animation is a delight & also stunning. and fascinating to also#juxtapose as a Translation / Interpretation of the comic in a different medium & standalone snippet of Story#and that we're not even quite there in the comic timeline; Taking Notes abt character info we get distilledly here....genuinely love like#take it back to '07 i'm like oh boy can't wait for the dream team to assemble. then a decade later when it did? Oh Boy. that is payoff lol#namely hooray for stitches and mudbug at the field office for every passing gangster. killing one marigold associate but not the other#which seems like a promising start to shootouts w/the other dream team triumvirate. i adore that in canon so far mordecai freckle & rocky#have met but only over a nice brunch. re: all intentions anyways. anyways i'm like Gifs Must Be Made while i'm also so riled afresh abt the#comic that i've been sooo hype for for over fifteen yrs now babeyyy Deservedly. i've done a couple of rereads & ought to do another....#For Interest it'd probably take a few sittings to catch up from the start but there is much to be engaged over....this ongoing story that's#historical fiction prohibition bootlegging cats with plenty of focus on characters & several Mysteries. which i'm better at parsing now lol#like one of the more recent rereads like Oh Of Course x (probably) accidentally killed his y & z took the fall & that's a binding secret...#Not [oh of course] abt the circumstances surrounding a's death & how b & c were involved. nor the ''what's marigold's damage'' mystery#which is great. love to not know things. love that we can readily follow all the emergent drama everyone's wading in nowadays. hell yeah#anyways admire my organized approach to gifs here. four shots each Expressions Atmosphere Action Groupshots#sure might've muddled through gifmaking for this anyways but fr being a huge lackadaisy comic enjoyer for now most of my life helps#and its very Overall Inspiration like. just really getting the [you can really just draw stuff out here] going. fr the art's detail & skill#and that enrichment like i'm gonna have a great time following this. And I Have#you don't expect a crowdfunded indie animation in the mix back then but hell yeah fellas#SIGH ok removing a 4th gif that's broken / not displayed despite reuploading then entirely remaking it. if it's a bug i'll try again later
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medi-bee · 7 days
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when the stars are in time or sometthing
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intern-seraph · 17 days
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if your activism can be significantly disrupted by a few hours of award show, you're just a bad activist
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heybiji · 2 months
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dandelion casually dropping traumatic information while insisting that instead of killing the problem wizard they simply burn his tongue
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naffeclipse · 2 months
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What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?
I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au
Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.
Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.
The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.
It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.
But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.
You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.
His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.
But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—
He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.
He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.
You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.
He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.
Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."
You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.
The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.
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libraryofgage · 7 months
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SpiderPool Steddie Part One
So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao
It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol
Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^
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Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.
Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.
All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.
Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.
Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.
"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."
Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.
Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.
He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.
"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."
Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.
The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"
Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.
"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"
"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"
"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.
Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."
Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.
"Is that the name of the band?"
"Yep. They play here almost every night."
"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"
Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.
A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.
"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."
"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."
Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."
"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."
Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."
"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"
"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"
Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.
He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.
Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."
And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.
"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."
"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.
"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.
Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...
And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.
He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.
"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"
"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.
"The economy sucks, man."
Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."
"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."
Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.
He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.
Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.
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gh4ul · 2 months
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toji with a bow 🥺 toji girl dad!! it’s so cute watching some 6’6 assassin wedge his legs in a little toddler chair to sip imaginary tea with his baby :((( or when she falls asleep on his chest, curled up like a little cat !!! agh! i need him to make me a mommy :(
he would hunch his back bad to get eye level with his daughter. there’s lots of “daddy! you were supposed to say thank you to [imaginary tea party participant]!” and he looks a little panicked because now his daughter is lecturing him on manners. he’s weak to whatever it is his daughter wants (and also his wife but that’s another story). i can see him being the type of dad to carry your daughter in one arm at grocery runs while he holds your hand or pushes the cart or grabs things with the other. she could stay up there the whole errand without him complaining. your pantry is always filled with your daughter’s guilty snack and candy pleasures. he really cannot say no to her, so you’re the one who has to often re-establish both of your authority. (i think your daughter would be a daddy’s girl but she really looks up to and respects her mother).
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midnightsslut · 9 months
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thinking about how the desperate attempt to cling to her childhood with speak now elicited mixed responses (scott telling her she couldn’t have a fairytale-inspired title like enchanted, romantic relationships with older men who took advantage of her inexperience vs the need to be america’s sweetheart), which led to a pivot to try to slowly grow up (hence a noticeable aesthetic change, more mature themes and sounds in her music, etc), only for that to be confronted with even more criticism (sit-downs over leaving the cursive fonts of her early albums behind, constraints to her sonic experimentation, scott generally doubling down on his control of her music because, in her own words, her success in pop with IKYWT/WANEGBT made him see her as a woman which felt threatening, a global slut-shaming campaign, the paula of it all). no wonder it led to the feeling that she had to double down on her maturation arc with 1989 to truly feel in control for the first time, which, in turn, tainted her memory of her previous two albums because they both felt constraining and slightly embarrassing compared to her newfound sense of liberation.
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andie-orion · 2 months
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Birthday Wishes - Touya Todoroki
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“Stop moving around so damn much,” I growled at him, trying to carefully rinse his sudsy hair clean, “you’re going to make me get soap in your stupid, pretty eyes!”
“The water is too damn hot, woman,” he complained, his head leaned back over the tub edge, his bright turquoise eyes meeting mine so that I could watch his dramatic eye roll.
“Too hot for you?” I questioned, quirking an eyebrow at that notion, but pushing the dial towards the cooler side.
“Just cause I’m hotter than everyone else doesn’t mean I need to use scalding hot water. The cooler water helps ease the pain my quirk leaves behind,” he hummed as I ran my hand in the back of his hair, watching him exhale in comfort.
“You never told me that before,” I sighed, feeling awful. “You shower with me all the time and you’ve never complained about how hot I make the water. Why not?”
He smirked, keeping his eyes closed, “I think you know why.”
“Freaking pervert,” I quietly commented, chuckling to myself.
He laughed, making my heart skip many beats as he turned his head, catching my wrist between his teeth lightly.
“Only where you’re involved, sweetheart. Besides,” and he opened one eye to look my way again, “no scaldin’ hot water is going to keep me away from you and that beautiful fuckin’ body.”
“Well thanks, sweet cheeks. But come on now,” and I turned the water off grabbing for the nearby towel, “you got a whole gang of people downstairs waiting to celebrate your birthday.”
“Whose idea was this again?” Touya grumbled as I messily dried his hair.
“You know Shoto hasn’t gotten to celebrate you in a really long time, let alone celebrate you getting out from under All for One’s control. You should have really seen this coming.” I laughed, pulling the towel away and watching Touya’s bright white hair sparkle as the light hit it.
“Do I gotta go down there?” he whined, grabbing my hips and forcing me down on his lap.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, the towel hanging in my hands, and kissed his nose.
“If you do, I’ll be sure to reward you heavily,” I smirked, kissing his forehead.
“Oh, no shit?” he asked, excitement laced so obviously in his tone.
“Yep, whatever you wanna do. Just like last year. Just…,” and I pulled away to look into his aqua eyes, “just please behave and remember that everyone is still a little worrisome about you. But Shoto and I love you immensely.”
“I could give two shits if Shoto loves me, doll,” he laughed, making me roll my eyes.
“Well I love the shit out of you. So just behave... for me?”
“Will do.” He smiled the biggest grin, showing off his bright, sharp canines. The very same smile that always made my heart hammer so violently in my chest due to how happy and childlike it felt to see on his face.
“Good,” and I kissed him and pulled myself off his lap, “now let’s go change!”
“Yes, ma’am,” and he grabbed my hand in his, pulling me to our room to do as promised.
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bottombaron · 5 months
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like sry im going to be laughing at this for a long ass time, this is the best joke wwdits ever had
imagine writing a scenario you feel is so universal, like hero worshiping your shitty boss, and the generations watching this in the 2020's economy literally can not comprehend such an absurdity that they go,
"oh i get it, he wants to fuck his boss"
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crescentfool · 1 year
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graduation day 🌸
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