#like a freaking cheese grater

[chxrry-san]

Bang Chan - Los Angeles Bank of California Stadium Waiting Room. Reporter Lee Seung-hoon and Min Kyung-bin (Dispatch).

[borrelia]

fleet is the freaking. grilled cheese maker of all time

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I just know wade would be asking u to grind ur teeth down on it...i just know it....

hi anon ur so right wade actually has you do insane shit to him dick biting is just the BEGINNING‼️😮‍💨 and the first time he suggests it you’re mortified 😭 you’re giving him that gawk gawk 3000 typhoon top but he’s still kinda soft 😰 you’re lowkey worried feeling self-conscious about your head game until he cups your face and swipes his thumb across your cheek

“can i ask you a weird question?”

when you’re having sex with wade wilson, this could lead to literally anything. “does this bump on my nutsack look different than usual?”, “what’s your stance on the death penalty?”, “did i ever tell you about that time i got my dick stuck in the toaster?” you brace yourself for whatever batshit insanity is about to slide out of his mouth.

“yeah, go for it.”

“can you use your teeth on it? just, like… keep doing what you’re doing, please, it’s fucking amazing. i just want a little more texture.”

huh?! is he for real?! but you’ve worked so hard to NOT do that! years of toiling in the dick-sucking mines has trained that right out of you, and he wants you to throw all that away? why?! “uh… are you sure?”

he just laughs in response

“aw, you’re so cute! so sweet, worrying about me like that! think about it. why would i ask for this if i didn’t want you to do it, stupid boy?”

…y’know what? fair enough. you close your teeth around his shaft and cheese grater up and down the length of his throbbing, bumpy cock.

“OH~! fuck, just like THAT, baby, YES~! mmm… fu-u-ck, that’s perfect… like… like you’re trying to bite the batter off a corndog, baby, there you go…”

and when i say it gets worse from there i mean it gets WORSE!!!! like he’ll come up behind you while you’re cooking dinner.

“hey, slutter-butter, you got a minute?”

“uh… yeah, actually!” you put down the knife you were about to use to chop an onion, and spin around to face him. “haven’t really started yet, what’s—“

he’s holding a strap-on.

“yes, hi, this is wade wilson, i’ve got an appointment for a prostate exam at 4PM?”

you smirk and saunter towards him, eager to play along with this spontaneous bit, “hmm… i’m not seeing you on our records, mr. wilson. are you sure it was scheduled for today?”

“i’m not sure, actually. i’ve made that mistake before. but this clinic takes walk-ins, right?”

“yes we do, sir, but today’s been pretty busy.” you wrap your fingers around his on the silicone shaft and pull him into you. “but i’ll see if i can squeeze in you.”

wade bounces and squees with joy and hands you the strap. you don’t even get it all the way on your hips before he’s bending over. onto the stove. where you were preheating a cast-iron skillet.

“oh, shit, WADE—!”

“what?” he stares at you blankly, holding the hot pan you were about to use. he’s silent for a moment, then two, and then it clicks. “oh!” he sets the pan down in the sink, claps his hands together, then points at you. “forgot you’re a normie! logan fucks me over the stove all the time. doesn’t really matter for us, since we’re freaks of nature and third degree burns just tickle us psychosexually, but, uh… would you… wanna try it? do a little flambé action? roasted wade wilson breasts? i promise, it’s fun. it makes me moan like a coked-up whore late on rent.”

you snort at his stupid comparison, and it actually puts your mind at ease a bit. it doesn’t surprise you that him and logan get up to this kinda thing when you’re not around. in fact, you’re actually flattered to be allowed to take part in it. to take advantage of him like this.

“fuck it. bend over, you fucking weirdo masochist.”

“yippee! yay! thank you, daddy!!!”

wade eagerly yanks his shorts down, widens his stance, and slams his bare chest onto the glowing red burner. his leathery skin sizzles with the smell of cooked human flesh.

“ooooh, that feels so fucking good on my right nipple… lemme roll a little, get the other side, ah~! oh-h-h, it hurts so fucking good!!!”

you get into position behind him, but he holds his hand out backwards to halt you.

“wait! one more thing!”

he reaches over and grabs the gigantic chef’s knife, freshly sharpened and pristine, that you had lying on the cutting board next to a soon-to-be mutilated onion, and offers it to you.

“jam this through my palm when i say i’m getting close. that’s the finishing move. have me spraying a whole little league team out my dick.”

[vapolis]

I meaaaaan, I guess I get why people want to play the "good person" in an IF, it can be satisfying and relieving in a world that's been. Real shite lately and filled with so much bad stuff. I get that, but there's already plenty of IF's out there that have that character you can play as

With that being said, I personally revel in being a bad person in this IF! I look forward to the retched, ruthless, and unhinged options. Sanity? I don't know her!! I love the crazed smiles Merc gives everyone, how most in the police station are so ungodly wary of them bc... what the hell are they gonna do next? And will it somehow involve them?? Or how some people underestimate them and regret it soon after. Plus the flavor text for a more ruthless Merc just makes me absolutely cackle. Picking the corkscrew for the torture scene and having Merc go "Orla you're sick" or w/e but they love it

Anyway, I just love playing an unapologetically bad person!! Maybe they feel guilty about it, maybe they don't, maybe they'll forget the guilt like the handful of other things they forget pffft

Also, also, it's deliciously angsty to play as a big baddie bare feet (opposite of little goodie two shoes) & try to romance Royal hehe

the corkscrew option was sooo fun, bc orla and merc are just freak 4 freak. orla was like "what kitchen utensil can I put in here" and then saw her uncorked wine bottle from earlier and thought yeah sure I wanna see merc use that :) AND THEN they do! unhinged. I was debating giving merc a cheese grater too icl.

the flavour text too cracks me up everytime. merc is just out for blood 24/7 the more ruthless they get lmao

you're very right that the angst level with a ruthless merc in a relationship w royal will be off the charts. good luck trying not to get broken up with before you even get into a relationship 😔

[evansboyfriend]

little (big) snippet from the next aka the last chapter of and i'll use you as a focal point aka my saltommy fic especially for riley @rdng1230 <3 and shoutout to kayla @agenttommykinard for saving me from having to google american beer names. again.

Sal’s already started on dinner by the time Tommy comes into the kitchen, having changed out of his jeans and into a more comfortable pair of sweats, and there’s something rattling around in his head about having had stripped out of his clothes in Sal Deluca’s bedroom without ending up in bed with the man. 

“Ooh, bacon,” Tommy reaches for a piece from the block Sal’s cutting into little square-shaped pieces, popping it into his mouth.

Sal looks up, shooting him a glare, though there’s an undercurrent of fondness in his gaze, the corners of his mouth threatening to pull back. “It’s guanciale, you heathen,” Sal shakes his head as he returns to the task at hand. “Why do I even bother to cook for your unappreciative American ass?” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Italy.” 

Tommy tries to grab another piece but Sal swats his hand away; he doesn’t look up this time, but Tommy can see the easy grin curving his mouth, charmed by the back-and-forth between the two of them. He looks most like himself in this setting; Tommy’s come to know him well enough that he knows when Sal is at ease, without that tension that he carries in his shoulders at work and around his family. He wonders when it might’ve happened, the first time Sal put his guard down in front of him, if he would have even noticed it − maybe if he hadn’t been so caught up with holding up his own with an iron grip. 

Tommy goes to fetch himself a bottle of those fancy beers that Sal mocks him for liking but still keeps a stock of a few bottles in his fridge, and pulls up a chair and plops down at the island, sipping on his drink and watching the chef work. He spins the bottle in his hands idly until Sal tells him to make himself useful and grate some cheese, pulling out a wedge of pecorino from the fridge and setting it down in front of Tommy next to the grater. 

Tommy’s glad to have something that’ll keep his hands busy. He’s barely had a few sips of the Wisconsin Belgian Red but there’s a warmth flowing through his veins and he doesn’t think it’s the 4% alcohol that’s the reason for it. 

“We could go to Hi Tops again,” he says after a moment of silence, the pair of them working in tandem.

“Oh yeah?” Sal turns to the stove, the guanciale dropping into the hot pan with a loud sizzle, then turns around to face Tommy. “No, no! Tommy!” He reaches out and flips the triangle grater over to the finer side, shooting him a pointed look. 

Tommy blinks, his face the picture of innocence. 

“Just give it here,” Sal grabs the cheese from his hands and gets to work. “Can you get the eggs from the fridge?”

Tommy rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet. He tries to not be too annoyed that the conversation has been derailed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a control freak?” 

“You love it.” 

“The bartender asked me if you were my boyfriend,” Tommy finally says. “Last time we were there.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sal breathes a laugh. “What’d you tell him?”

Tommy reaches for his drink in lieu of answering. The cool liquid helps settle the nerves rising in his stomach. It’s ridiculous that he has to put this much effort to keep himself grounded for something as simple as this. “He also said you might have been trying to make me jealous.” 

Sal laughs again. “That’s a very observant bartender.” There’s an ease with which he speaks the words as he moves around the kitchen that drives Tommy crazy, both with the desire to pin him to the wall and kiss him stupid, and in the sense that he’s way too fucking nonchalant about this − about everything. 

“I’m gonna tell him you are,” Tommy says finally, a certain type of solid determination in his tone. “Next time we go.” 

“I’m what? Trying to make you jealous?”

“No. The other thing.”

Sal spins around slowly, and his eyes meet Tommy’s. He’s smiling something soft. He puts the wooden spoon down on the counter, rounding the corner of the kitchen island towards Tommy, a hand at the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss, chaste and closed-mouthed, his plump lips slotting between Tommy’s like they were made for it. His thumb is caressing Tommy’s cheekbone when they break apart, eyes meeting again. 

“You can tell them whatever you want,” Sal’s voice is merely above a whisper. “To whoever you want.” 

“Really?” Tommy asks, but he doesn’t give the man a chance to reply before he drapes his arms around Sal’s shoulders, tips his head down to kiss him again. Sal’s arms wrap around his waist and pull him closer and Tommy smiles against his mouth. “You don’t think you’re exaggerating a little bit maybe?”

“No, I’m not,” Sal says, jutting his chin out. “You want me to call my mom and tell her?”

Tommy breaks into a fit of nervous giggles at the thought; God, he wouldn’t be able to ever look Mrs. Deluca in the eye ever again. He drops his head against Sal’s shoulder to hide the blush on his cheeks. “You wouldn’t.” He says, because he knows that Sal is just trying to rile him up, make him squirm. 

“I’ll call her right now.” 

“Shut up.” 

Sal presses his lips to Tommy’s neck before disentangling himself from the man, pulling away entirely. “Let me make us some food, yeah? You just sit there and be quiet.”

[conceptofjoy]

strider your radiocuntivity is melting the slaynobel reactor please stop!! youre pussifying the land for generations to come!!

ranked popular social medias mediocre to worst.

reddit: the ads are annoying as fuck but the sbahj community aight. users are kind of awkward interacting with each other though, app full of [BEEEEEEEP]. its the most functional out of the others. ok taking that back, its the most functional DEPENDING on who the moderators are. that being said, r/sbahj is a little too functional and im thinking of hiring someone to grab a cheese grater shred that shit up.

twitter (not X): the popularity was the best thing about it. easy way to interact with fans, couldnt send death threats though. plus the character limit was a drag, i couldnt get a single thought out without having to make a thread. the other option is to take a screenshot of your notes app and fuck no was i not doing that. on one hand you look lame as fuck, the other you look dorky as fuck. you cant win.

4chan: they're all freaks since its all anonymous but they're funny ones. sometimes you cant find good shit though and its all just thread after thread of a guy posting an img of a horse cock not getting it wasnt funny the first time. this is what X wanted to be with the "free speech" musk said he has. if i cant tell someone their mom sucks me good and hard through my jorts then whats the POINT.

instagram: basic, does its job. used to be catered towards hippies and it still is, but through the influx of immigration from X its semi-tolerable. instagram REELS though? i should release a sbahj movie like that.

tiktok: people my age dont use it unless youre tucker carlson licking the boots of young adult conservative college men. its just fucking sad.

X: after that dick measuring contest with musk i had a few years ago, its unsurprising im still banned. so what i fucked your girlfriend get over it dude.

tumblr: [deleted due to over abundance of homophobic slur usage]

honorable mention:

jeremy renner app: jeremy renner app.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

AN APPLE A DAY

《 READ ON AO3 》

Joker teaches Jason some manners.

《RATING》 Mature 《WORDS》 839

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd/Robin, Joker, Harley Quinn, Bruce Wayne (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Whump

《WARNINGS》 Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage, Teeth Pulling, Torture, Blood and Gore

《SERIES》 Part 1 of My Arkhamverse, Part 1 of Ruined

《TAGLIST》 @aaliyah-wayne @ladytauria @betty-1880 @deans-spinster-witch @hlg8 @plantixst

《NOTES》

If you enjoy the read, please consider reblogging 💚

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are much appreciated!)

When the pliers clamp down around his front tooth, Jason shatters.

“Thank you sir! THANK YOU SIR!” he screams a blood-sputtering scream, his words slurring around the cold, pitiless metal that’s shoved into his pried-open jaws. His heart’s pounding fists against the cage of his chest, pumping fear through his veins. He prays that’s enough as he shakes like a puppy on the fourth of July. He gave the psycho what he wanted: he called the man “sir,” like some fucked-up sex roleplay. 

Joker has been punishing him for running his mouth. Again. For laughing in his pasty white face when the Party City Clown informed him that he’d be calling the freak “sir” from now on. “You can take your ‘sir’ and shove it up your ass,” were his exact words. The old Jason may not have regretted those words—that kid probably would’ve thought this agony was worth it. But that kid’s gone now, murdered by a photo. Batman had bitched at him many times for his loud mouth while on patrol. Probably yet another reason why Bruce picked a new kid for the job; why the rejected kid now has eight throbbing holes in his swollen gums.

Warm, coppery blood dribbles from the corners of his mouth, coating his busted lower lip in crimson gore. His breath’s coming in frantic pants, on the edge of hyperventilating. His armored chest full of broken ribs heaves beneath the heavy braided ropes that bind him to the wooden chair, ropes that squeeze his lungs like a giant’s fist. Nailless fingers dig into the material of his gloved palms as he balls his fists behind his back. No more, he silently prays yet another useless prayer as tears roll down his scarred cheeks. Please no more…

He’s a dumbass for holding out so long. Ten teeth—at least—gone from his mouth now. Two from the fucking crowbar, eight from the Clown’s pliers. And for what? To impress the man who left him here to rot? The man he considered his father. His partner who picked a new kid rather than bother finding the old one.

The gloved fist twisted into his matted black hair tightens, tearing at his scalp, then wrenches his head back even further, so those slime-colored eyes can bore down into his pale blue ones. “Be more specific,” Joker says casually, as if they were discussing the weather over a cup of coffee and not the eight bloody teeth scattered on the table in front of him.

“Thank you for…” His shattered mind races in circles, groping for the right words through the immense drumbeat of agony that’s consuming him.

“I think the patient needs another extraction, Doctor J,” Harley suggests in that screechy voice of hers that’s like a cheese grater over his ear drums. He cuts his eyes at her, bent in half with her elbows on the table, chin in her hands, grinning from ear to ear like some sadistic schoolgirl.

“Excellent diagnosis, nurse!” Joker exclaims, tightening his grip on the pliers.

Jason's heart drops out of his chest as molten panic engulfs him. He sucks down a gasp of air. “Thank you for torturing me!” he wails desperately, words tumbling free of his raw throat. “Thank you for yanking my teeth out!”

A heavy silence settles over the room, smothering him. He can feel his eyes snapping back and forth in his skull, futilely searching for an escape. Seconds pass like hours as he waits, terror mounting with each whimpery wheeze. Then Joker pulls the pliers free of his bloody mouth, releasing his fistful of hair.

Jason chokes out a sob as the panic loosens its grip; as relief floods in, carrying the awful pain back with it. He blinks away the stars that whitewash his vision. His jaw aches from being forced open for so long, his neck aches as he straightens. He coughs up the blood pooled in the back of his throat.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it pumpkin?” Joker croons, mussing his sweat-soaked hair before stepping in front of him. Blood red lips skin back from rotten yellow teeth. “Such a well-mannered boy deserves a nice reward, doncha think?”

No, please no… His insides twist into tight knots, dreading this “nice reward,” which probably includes more torture. He sucks in a fearful gasp as Joker pulls something from his coat, tosses it in the air once, then plops it down in front of him. His reward? An apple. The freshest, reddest, juiciest, crispiest looking apple he’s ever laid eyes on. Drool mixes with blood and trickles down his cracked lips. His hollow stomach growls and aches. After months of being fed nothing but rotten, sometimes maggot-infested food, the Clown’s giving him an apple. And the thought of biting into that delicious apple with his broken teeth and throbbing gums is enough to tear a miserable sob from his throat. 

Jason bows his head as helpless tears stream from his red-rimmed eyes. “Thank you, sir,” he whimpers.

[rokishimizu4]

Letter to Lucass~!

For @thatguylucass, mainly because they gave me motivation and made me want to add a Undertale AU Skeleton comfort letter to my Etsy Shop!

Letter:

Lucianass letter from UF Sans

Hey Doll,

Now before you freak out, ‘cause I know you will, me and Paps are fine. Well, as we can be in this hell hole, heh.

And don’t worry about the brat. They’re fine. A little traumatized from a few close calls. Especially a ruff run-in with the dog guards.

Mutts won’t quit trying to sniff me, ‘cause they say that I smell like the ‘strange pup’. Got them to quit that shit a few hours ago thanks to Paps newest recipe that calls for four sliced dogs. Well Hot Dogs, but those four couldn’t catch a bone if it laid out in front of them! But I was writing this letter, Paps is so proud btw, ‘cause I had some good news to share.

See, after a few too many run-ins, or should I put swim-ins, with fish fucker, a new human showed up from the machine I’ve been working years on.

Paps and Doomfucker seems to like they well enough, and they gave me a promise of killing them if they looked at Paps the wrong way and sacrificing them if their plan doesn’t work.

Heh, I hate making promises but trusting them might be the only way out of this hell hole… forever.

Both Paps and the brat had too many close calls and Undyne is, unfortunately, not that dumb. I’m not gonna back down if she does figure it out, and neither will Paps, but we lost too much to risk losing more.

Maybe, we could meet face to face if this fucken machine starts working right again. Can’t tell you how much seeing you makes me feel. Can’t be going soft now, but I mean it.

And we can’t have you coming here, that would be Lucas, heh see what I did there?

Heh, but I won’t put you through anymore shit than what you have to go through. If this shitty plan somehow works, and we can get to a safer surface without Fish bitch or the Mad King.

You better prepare yourself sweetness, cause I’m gonna come get you and take down anyone that stand in my way.

We, we are gonna find a place with no bullshit, no LV, no red haze flooding my skull with a thirst for blood.

Just you, me, and whatever pet you want. With Paps, Doomfucker, and Paps new crush, living close by.

I know that both of us are shit at taking care of ourselves, talking about feelings and shit, but I want to try.

Sorry if the shit paper looks red, Doombitch is shedding like cheese through a grater and it’s making my eye socket water, heh.

I like you sweetheart, like a shit ton. So, don’t go dying on me before I get there, yeah?

It shouldn’t be long; this human knows their shit and is a good distraction for when nobody’s come sniffing around.

Heh, might even try some pickup lines that they use on Paps, to use on you.

I’ll see you soon Doll, that’s a promise I am willing to make and keep.

Your little bastard,

Fell (Sans)

P.S. Got the little doll that you sent me. Had to add a few things, but I didn’t get it too dirty. Just for you, baby doll.

I hope you like it Lucass, and thank you for the idea!!!

Underfell belongs to Underfell, Red is thatguylucass's husband,

Taking requests for Letters if anyone else is interested, first one is free.

[donutlover417]

okay i routinely write shit down while half asleep so here's a post of some of my favorites -It’s midnight. I approach, t-posing. This slowly morphs into me doing fornite dances, and then dabbing, all as I chant YouTuber intros. You watch in horror as my Body turns to plastic and contorts until I morph into a fidget spinner. the roblox oof sound effect blasts loud enough to make ears bleed. God has returned.

-Why are chairs so terrifying what secrets do they hold -Caterpillars control the government -God is like a bee he doesnt have legs -What if you yelled at a rock and it yelled back

-I had a dream that m&ms introduced a new character called “mister white-y” who was a whiteboard with glasses, a tie, and glasses and the internet by freaked out because he “wasn’t even a candy” and people began writing MASSIVE analysis videos on his design and why he suck’s super badly Going into massive detail on why each and every aspect of his design sucked He wasn’t in the main line up of m&ms he was a side character

-gay culture is discussing if snails have emotions at 1 am

-I love candle wax I could just rub it all over my body -Dream where someone gets turned to stone and yells “guess I’m sus” while doing an amongus pose before getting turned and everyone was really really really sad wholesome that that was the last night he chose to do

-Amab. Assigned mogus at birth

-Imagine if vaginas were like cheese graters so every time a dude had sex his penis would get smaller. And period’s are just the built up penis bit falling out . That assumes all Afab people have sex tho, which they don’t

-Cocaine belt buckle

-Sex is like mowing the lawn i like to do it with a lawnmower

-Bill wurtz airplane ticket Atlanta Georgia 8;00 pm

-Cake face (body horror)

-Piss is undefinable

-Slime@ rancher dead god

-The bite of an amongus can actually cause arthritis

-Flap my ass like flappy birddddd

-“You know, I’ve jerked off to your wanted poster.”

-Man with hotdogs for eyes

-Egg the walrus husband greets you when you come back from work

-Nine legged baby. it crawls with it's face legs

-why do charmin ads always feel less like toilet paper ads more like someone’s fetish

-I’m just like a turtle I can’t rent my cock

-black hole vagina steals your penis

[steddiejudas]

STWG Daily Drabble 9/25/23

prompt: making a meal

Eddie never really learned to cook. With the salary he and Wayne live on, he’s used to heating up cans of soup, Spaghettios, maybe some toast if he’s feeling like a gourmet. But Steve, damn, the man can make a meal. The first time Steve cooked for him, Eddie thought he’d died and gone to food heaven, promptly passing out on the couch with his boyfriend and a full belly as soon as they finished eating. Eddie wishes he could return the favor, but he’s pretty sure canned tomato soup and burnt grilled cheese sandwiches don’t equate to braised pork chops, rosemary roast potatoes, and homemade rolls. 

Tonight Steve is making Eddie’s favorite. Penne alla vodka with homemade garlic bread. Eddie doesn’t typically consider himself an overly emotional person, but as he sits in the kitchen watching Steve hum to himself and grate fresh parmesan, he could cry. 

“What’s wrong babe?” Steve asks, concern lacing his beautiful features. 

“Nothing, angel. I just love you.”

“I love you too, Eds.” Steve sets the cheese grater down and walks around the island to curl into Eddie’s embrace, leaving little kisses on the sensitive spot behind Eddie’s ear. Steve loves to kiss that spot, teasing giggles out of Eddie’s pretty lips. “But seriously,” he whispers, “You’ve got your thinking face on.”

Eddie sighs, easing into the warmth of Steve. “You always spend so much time cooking for me while I just sit here and watch. I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad! I love cooking for you, I thought you knew that.”

“I did! I mean, I do. I just wish I could return the favor.”

“You return other favors,” Steve says with a wink. 

Eddie groans. “Steve, that was horrible.”

“Sorry.” Steve leaves one last kiss, featherlight and promising on Eddie’s cheek before pulling away. “If you want to help, I can show you some things.”

A splitting smile erupts over Eddie’s features, nodding enthusiastically as he jumps up to help. 

“Alright, I'm almost done with the sauce, but you can get the bread ready. Can you mince up some garlic while I melt the butter in a saucepan?”

“Yes chef,” Eddie quips, giving Steve a little two finger salute. He makes quick work of chopping up the garlic the way he’s seen Steve do it countless times and throws it in with the melted butter. “Okay, now what?” 

“Now we turn the heat down and let the flavor infuse for a couple minutes. Like making edibles.”

“Alright,” Eddie says. “Like edibles then.”

It only takes about 20 minutes after Eddie adds in his own ingredient and pushes the concoction through a cheesecloth for the butter to firm back up to spreadable over the still soft loaf of french bread Steve was keeping in the warming drawer. They plate up their meal and eat at the table, smiling at each other through flickering candlelight, conversation flowing easily between them. They finish and Eddie gets up to clear their plates. 

“Uh, Eddie?” Steve asks from his seat at the table. 

“Yes my love?”

“I think I’m high? No, definitely high. Why am I high?”

“Stevie you said… like edibles? Was that not? Did you not mean to add weed to the butter?”

“Eddie… no.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” And then it hits Eddie too and, oh shit, yeah, he added wayyy too much. Which means it’s only a matter of time before Steve–

“It’s okay. You can make it up to me right now. Upstairs.”

“You frisky little freak.”

“What can I say?” Steve winks, running towards his bedroom. “I learned from the best.”

[respiteresponse]

HII LUXXIEE IVE BEEN IA LATELY IM SOS RORYYY 🥹💗💗😭😭 I JUST SAW YOUR ART IM GOING TO GO ISNSANE I CANT BELIEVE IM FRIENDS WITH SUCH A TALENTED GIRL I NEED TO START KILLING T:(((( GIVE ME A MINUTE TO GO INSANE IN TGAGS ILOVEYOU SO MUCH AND I HOPE YOURE DOING WELLL HOW WAS CHALLENGERS? HOWVE YOU BEEN? ILVOEYOU I LOVELYI

OHHHHH M GEEEEEEEEEEE HI KISSUUUUUU im so freaking excited ive reread nunkis tags like 10 times today its so silly but when i get fun tags i reread them over and over it just makes me happy SO GO NUTS that stuff makes my day :, )) thanks for making ocs with us so i could draw them and have fun putting them in cheese graters and hydraulic presses :, )))) CHALLENGERS WAS SO GOOD i cant even get into it ill fkin explode and die actually. I LOVE YOU BACK

[edupunkn00b]

Decoherence, Ch. 11: Someone Comes to Town, Someone Stays in Town

Creative Commons 1.0 Public Domain

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“All secrets become deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets.” - Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town by Cory Doctorow

WC: 1572 - Rated: T - CW: swearing -

2027, April 29, London, England

The sunlight streaming in from the window glowed through Remus’ swollen eyelids. He blinked then winced at the sandpapery drag over sore eyes. His pillowcase was cold and wet and his whole face throbbed like he’d been crying. Can you cry in your sleep?

He closed his eyes again and reached across the bed to turn off the alarm, then let his arm fall over the empty expanse. Why the fuck did he have such a big bed, anyway? It’s not like there was ever anyone here but him. Who had time for that? He should probably sell it, free up some space.

But he loved these soft blue sheets and sometimes, in that half-aware daze as he drifted off, his bed felt a little less empty, the pillow clutched to his chest almost… hugging him back. Soft hair like silk falling between his fingers, love and warmth right there in his grasp. Bright blue eyes looking back at him and a crooked little cupid’s bow smiling, whispering, “I love you, Mue—”

The alarm blared again. Thankfully, some scrap of sense in him had driven him to hit snooze instead of turning it off completely. He smacked the off button and heaved himself out of bed. The moment his feet touched the cold floor, everything hit him with a flash. 

The dreams!

Remus turned on the spot, scanning the room for something to write with. Where the fuck was he? Electric lights, a window that opened. He pressed his face to the window glass and caught the tiniest edge of a yellow and blue Aldi’s sign about a kilometer down the street. London.

A Sharpie lay abandoned on the floor and he picked it up and started writing on his bare arm. Last night had been… that Victorian kinda thing… big fireplace, heavy curtains on the window, feather-stuffed blanket on the bed. Big old house with Ro and Janus and Patton and Virgil. He’d turned five a couple weeks ago but he still had the little paper balloon he’d made him.

Okay, and the night before that had been. Nah. The fucking White House?

Shaking his head, Remus scrawled a question mark next to that one. That sounded like a dream-dream, not a memory, but still he wrote the name Gladys. Like in the old game? And before that was the motorbike. He could feel the buzz of the electric engine vibrating through his thighs, the clink of their helmets as he’d clung to Lo’s waist, leaning with him on the curves. Like a dance.

No. No, the last time he’d been there, he’d been alone. He’d woken up to the automatic lights, taken a shower and driven alone to CERN. But Lo had been here with him before. He remembered.

Nodding and muttering to himself, he sat on the edge of the bed as he wrote and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Hair wild, naked, with frantic markings between his tattoos over his arm and both legs. The shadows under his eyes looked painted on. He looked like a circus freak show.

He fucking was a circus freak show. Was he losing it? How do you know when your impossible thoughts are just… thoughts?

The marker stilled in his hand and he let his eyes close. “Find me, Meus… Find me.”

Remus opened his eyes and copied down the words that ran so clearly through his mind. “I’ll find you, Lo,” he promised aloud, then showered, careful not to scrub at the permanent marker on his skin. He’d copy it out again. And again. And again. Until he found him.

~

The lab was close to home and last night’s downpour had petered out to a drizzle, so Remus walked the half kilometer to the imposing grey tower. Fucking ‘Cheese Grater.’ They just needed a ‘Chips’ building and they’d complete the set of food-themed skyscrapers. The Leadenhall building wasn’t the Tower of London or even the Shard, but it had stood long enough to get its own nickname. And it had been long enough since it had been erected that most people weren’t really sure how far down the sub levels went.

People who didn’t work in the quantum computing lab, at least.

Remus keyed his way onto an elevator going down and pressed G2. He was early and the only one heading in at this hour. 

“It’ll be worth it, Lo,” I say, laughing as the man with the crooked cupid’s bow groans and chugs his third cup of tea. 

Was Lo his name? No… His real name was Logan. Like the superhero. 

The elevator dings at G-2. We get off and walk down the hall to another elevator and thumb the biometric scanner to call it. “We can get a test run in before anyone else even logs time on the multi-core.”

“I’ll agree with you in about an hour, Meus,” he mutters and, when we’re alone in the second elevator, hooks my arm to tug me closer. He leans on my shoulder, melting against me. It feels right. 

I turn my head, and press kisses into his soft hair, chuckling at the way it tickles my cheek and warms my lips.

The doors opened with an empty clang and Remus stepped out of the elevator alone and walked down the hall to prep for the clean room. If he hurried, he might even get in two test runs of the new qubit array before anyone else showed up.

~

It was after seven by the time Remus finally shut down his workstation and peeled off his cleansuit. He stood there for a good ten minutes in that little alcove, face pressed against the bonnet, breathing in the weirdly comforting scent of Tyvek and compressed air propellant. It’s what Lo’s hair smelled like in some of his memories. Remus was pretty sure, at least. 

He was losing it. 

Scoffing, he shoved the bonnet and his bunny suit into a recycler and thumbed his way out and into the hall.

Outside of the dry, cold, recycled air of the clean room, Remus sucked in a deep breath and made his way toward the first set of elevators. His stomach grumbled. Fuck, he’d forgotten to eat lunch again. 

Once upstairs, he paused just outside the lobby doors. The rain had picked up while he’d been working, the morning’s soft drizzle blooming into a full-on thunderstorm. He could always duck into the Aldi’s between the lab and home. There hadn’t been much in the fridge at home anyway, and with any luck, maybe he could wait out a bit of the storm while he was shopping.

Hair dripping, Remus lingered in the produce section. He spent just long enough staring at the loganberries to make the manager nervous and call for a security sweep. “We all know what code B in aisle 9 is, right, Lo?” he muttered. A woman picking out strawberries watched him from the corner of her eye until he retreated to the freezer section in search of something he could toss in the microwave and call it a fucking night.

Woo-ee, party animal right here. He might even make it to bed before nine-thirty.

When he got to the checkstands, he eyed the line that snaked out of the lane and halfway down the soup aisle and shook his head. The buggy little machines they laid out to convince their customers to work for free checking out their own groceries sat forlornly beeping and flashing to no-one. U-scan it was. 

He fell into a pattern scanning and bagging his groceries, the monotonous chant of the computers around him lulling him into his own sort of trance. The voices in the supermarket layered and fizzled together until the voices in his memory took over. 

“Gotta say ‘yes’ to something for the little guy.”

“As though you let that child lack for anything, ‘Uncka Re,’” Lo murmurs near my ear as he slips his arm through mine.

While the receipt slowly printed, Remus shoved his wallet in his pocket and grabbed the bags with his other hand. Turning, he tucked the receipt into the bag and looked up.

Right into Lo’s eyes.

Remus stared at the raven-haired man in front of him. “Lo?” Eyes the color of the sky looked right into him. “Is that really you?”

Lo’s face bloomed, that crooked little cupid’s bow spreading into a grin. “Meus!” he cried and threw himself into Remus’ arms. “You’re you,” he whispered, face pressed against his chest. “You—you’re actually you, aren’t you?”

Remus was still holding the groceries but he could only tighten his arms around Lo’s back, afraid to move enough to set them down. He didn’t want to let go, he couldn’t let go. They held each other until someone shuffled past them, muttering under their breath as they passed. “Lo?” He pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. “Lo, what’s happening?”

“Meus…” He reached up to cup Remus’ cheek. Another customer pushed their cart past them. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.” 

Nodding, Remus let go but then moved close again and laced their fingers together. He bent and picked up Lo's bag where he’d dropped it. “I… we?” He shook his head. Would Lo’s clothes still be there in the wardrobe when they arrived? Or had that all been in his head? A half-woken dream? Was any of this real?

“The flat’s close by.”

[zoomingupthathilla]

" hey. hey! what happened? "

max can feel it rather than see it: both of her knees are still bleeding even after the almost twenty minutes before she whacked her temple, but that's hardly new. just shredded skin that will heal and scar over in a week until she sends her legs back down cheese grater concrete again. all that's nothing compared to the strange void by which she seems to have been swallowed. in every direction, pure blackness except for the immediate, indefinite spot she stands. there are no shadows here. it's too dark even for those. her only point of reference is a small white dot that, once she begins to run toward it, blooms slowly into a grey, oblong blob. then it's a nondescript hospital bed. then it's a person on a bed.

it's her on a bed. much older and much paler, covered in more bruises than max has ever remembered counting between her freckles in her life. in the strange spotlight coming from nowhere, big max is silent. almost dead-looking. but there's an energy coming from her that max is certain means something is still awake.

" wake up, wake up! what happened to you? wake up loser, come on!! "

@godsdeal

The only noise is the beeping from the machine, it's been nonstop for what feels like weeks, months, maybe even years. She's not sure how long it's been going on. She isn't sure how to stop it. Max can't open her eyes.

'What happened?' , 'Where am I?'

Just a couple of the questions floating around the darkness.

'How do I get out of here?'

'Open your eyes you freak!'

She's been alone in her thoughts, even then it's like she is screaming from miles away. Max can barely hear her own voice. Just the beep, over and over. Beep, beep, beep.. -- how does anyone handle the beeping?

Darkness has enveloped her, trapped her in its grasp. She can't escape. The once vibrant redhead was truly a shell of herself. Lips cracked, face ghostly white, hair a dull red, no longer fiery. Bruises covering her skin where the casts aren't. It was a miracle the machine was still keeping her alive at all.

"Wake up loser, come on!!"

It echoed through the darkness, through the empty space that was once her mind. Where she was now, no one knew? 'I'm here.. I'm right here.' She tried to scream, tried to answer back. 'Wake up you freak!! Wake up-- just open your eyes, come on. Wake up' She was screaming, begging to wake up. Yet it was as if nothing was happening.

[spookyseason24-7]

Evil Dead Rise

good afternoon my spooky ghosts & ghouls. 

i rented the new evil dead movie (for a whopping $20) so you don’t have to. (spoilers ahead, probably.) 

firstly i need to note that the evil dead (2013) absolutely scarred me for life (as i’m sure it did all of us)

so obviously the standards were high for the new evil dead movie.

while it didn’t disappoint, it also did disappoint.....

scalp ripped off, eyeball bitten out, cheese grater used on skin, and glass eating were just some of the moments worth mentioning.

i liked seeing (what i consider to be) the subtle references to the classics: the poltergeist vibes at the beginning with the streetlight/building shot. the shining vibes with the elevator full of blood.

i think the plot line was pretty solid and the special effects were astounding. plus the little girl who plays Kassie, was so freaking talented (and adorable). in fact, the entire cast was top notch.

while not quite as disturbing as the 2013 film, it is still horrifying in all the best ways.

as for the tinge of disappointment, i feel like there was some missed potential in how terrifying it would be to watch your own mother become possessed. i think they could’ve done more on that front.

i think they could’ve played up that aspect, but maybe they didn’t want to permanently scare the little girl, bc we know that do be happening in the industry.

if its scary to watch, imagine how scary it would be to film.

otherwise, this movie is a solid 8/10. unsure if it was worth renting for $20 though.

maybe wait until it is a little cheaper, but i definitely recommend watching it.

[photo of VHS tape by bruno guerrero via unsplash]

Stay spooky ghosts & ghouls.

[blossoms-and-petrichor]

learning about oscar wilde is like. i love you. i hate you. I want to boil you in a microwave. i want to invite you to a party and throw you in a pool. you are a terrible human being. i never want to listen to you again. you're a freaking genius. you're tragic. you're esoteric and need to get a grip. you're relatable. you are the most shallow intelligent person ever. I want to shake you and put you through a cheese grater... and then burn the cheese. I want to put flowers by your grave. you changed my life

[antigerrymanderingspiderman]

parts of a conversation i had with my parents just now:

my dad had made like a noise mocking me

me freaking out: it feels like you’re rubbing my bones against a cheese grater

my dad: should i start one of those asmr youtube channels. should i start a shirtless working out asmr youtube channel

my mom: your dad was telling me he started a shirtless workout only fans

me: no. mom did you even know what an only fans was before this?

my dad: do you know how popular i would be? i would be a gay icon

my mom: *insert the name of middle age locally famous news talkshow lady that i was going to name drop but she’s like very local* had a viral video

me: *local lady*?!??!

my mom: yeah did you see it?

me: *local lady* has an only fans?!??!?

my mom: no (and then she describes a really boring out fit of the day tiktok)

when i’m leaving

my dad: do you know how many gay men have hit on me?

my mom: really

my dad: a couple