#part of me wants to cringe when i see old stuff going around but like. if i truly cared that much i'd just delete it or turn off reblogs

[fishyartist]

ancient relic of the past (this 2018 art of jade homestuck) is circulating a bit, soi decided 2 redraw it 4 fun! ^u^

[snaileer]

The Messenger is Already Dead - 4

Part 1 &2 Part 3

“Talia fell in love with Bruce Wayne!?” Danny says, whipping around to the man in question.

Everything starts piecing together like the worst Fruitloop themed puzzle ever. Danny had seen his face when Batman had removed his cowl of course, and it’d looked familiar, but that could have been anything, he never thought- Bruce Wayne!? His biological father, a man who hadn’t even known he existed, who Danny had never known, was Bruce Wayne? The richest man in America?

“You didn’t know?” Tim asks and Danny wants to scream.

He doesn’t, because that would be unassassiny-like and he’s not 100% sure it wouldn’t come out as a wail- but the desire is very much there. It feels like half of his life-view is crumbling before him.

“No, I didn’t know,” Danny starts tersely, “Talia never told us who Batman- who our father was, not until we could beat her in a fight. I… never got the chance.” He winces at the last statement, feeling the way the room goes colder at the reminder.

“Tt, clearly you would not have been able to anyways.”

Danny feels his eyes flare in frustration as he looks back to Damian, “I was a better fighter than you were, it’s not like you were finishing her challenge any earlier than I was, Damian.”

“The tutors may have favored you but it was not the tutors who bested you was it?” Damian snarled back.

“Whoa Damian-“

Memories flickered through Danny’s mind.

A fight. A snowy cliff. Red. Pain. Cold. Darkness. Green-

“Danny, you good there?”

Danny jerked his head up, not realizing he’d curled in on himself, “I’m .. fine.”

“You sure? You kind of… flickered,” Nightwing said, motioning vaguely with his hands, “Like a lightbulb.”

Danny cringed, “It’s one of the side effects of being like, this,” he motioned to himself, “I’m not exactly meant to exist on this plane of existence so sometimes I.. don’t? I guess? I don’t know, ghostly stuff is always pretty hard to explain.”

A “Hn.” Is all that comes from Bruce.

Danny practically feels their stares close in on him like walls.

“Whatever! The ghost stuff doesn’t matter!” He says, throwing his hands up and rising slightly off the ground, “What matters is that Talia is after me and is probably coming after Damian, so you need to figure out how to stop her. I didn’t come to talk, I came for protection.”

Danny takes a second, mimicking a breath and collecting himself. He couldn’t blow up like Danny, not when he had to make them see him as Danyal.

An Al-Ghul shows no weakness. An Al-Ghul shows no weakness.

“Tt. There is no reason to continue to refuse to call her Mother.”

Danny feels his eyes flare as turns back to where Damian stands, still scowling. Just like he always was.

“I’ve already told you, Damian,” He says, restraining the urge to yell that Maddie was his mom not Talia, “She was not a mother to me and I will not pretend she was when she is the reason I am being hunted.”

“She raised us,” Damian says with a scowl.

Danny feels old anger spark in him, “She trained us.”

He remembers cold nights and hard floors, cruel orders and harsher whips.

“She made us stronger,” Damian says with stone in his voice. Danny hates it, hates it because it’s exactly what they were always told. ‘It made them stronger’ but that didn’t save him so what did it matter? Damian and him never did anything but fight, they never saw each other except to fight, so much so that the first time Jazz invited him to dinner he’d thought she’d poisoned it and tried to burn down the kitchen.

Danny hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it.

He forces himself to let it go. This isn’t him. Not anymore.

Danny turns away from Damian completely, fists still tightly clenched as he looks Bruce- not his father, never his father- in the eye, “Now that you have proof I am who I say, how do we stop Talia?”

Back to business. Just finish this and you can go home.

Bruce turns back to the console, “First, we need to figure out her goals, and where….”

Danny steels himself as Bruce- as Batman-continues. He could do this.

He could pretend to be a ghost of himself for however long it took.

Pretend that he really had died -stayed dead- that day with Damian.

Pretend that he remembered more about his life in the league than he did.

Pretend he wasn’t an entirely different person now.

Pretend like he still knew who he was.

Pretend like every word from Damian’s mouth didn’t pull him back to a time when he was small, too small, but never weak, and-

Yeah, he could totally absolutely do this.

Definitely.

Danny cringes as the butler tells them all that a meal is ready and everyone starts to move away from the darkness of the cave. With every step into the warmly lit lights of the manor above the cave, Danny feels his hackles rise more.

It feels exposed, making him feel like his lies are muddying just by being there, the warmth of the atmosphere, tones of family, grief, growth, loss, suffocating him as he goes deeper. Knowing that he’s part of that, he’s not going to stay, he’s lying to Damian, he’s hurting him, he’s-

Danny gets one step in the dining room before he sees the family dining table sitting there, an ornate chandelier illuminating the plates laid out at each spot, favorite foods in the middle… and two slightly elder ghosts at the head of the table with love in their eyes as they watch the family sit.

He doesn’t belong here.

Danny takes a staggering step back.

He doesn’t belong here.

Damian notices his retreat, mouth opening to speak-

He doesn’t belong here.

Danny turns tail and vanishes, throwing himself back through the ground with intangibility until he reaches the cave. From there he pauses at the entrance they’d come through, turning back instead of running.

The seconds pause is enough time for someone else to notice him.

“Running already?”

Danny lurches, nearly squeaking as he startles and his visibility flickers. He follows the voice to a figure leaning against a slightly dim doorway on the side. An illuminated locker room sits behind him.

“You’re… Jay, right? The Red Hood?”

The man hums and walks closer, “It’s Jason. You’re the new kid. Talia’s huh?”

Danny wants to shrink in on himself, his muscles tightening as he gets closer, “I’m- yeah.”

Jason scoffs, looking up the stairs like he can see straight to the dining room, “God, B and this fucking family…” He turns a critical eye to Danny without moving his head, “What’s got you fleeing so soon? It didn’t look like you were causing any sort of trouble-“

“I just-“ Danny sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t belong here okay? As far as you all know, I’m not even supposed to exist anymore. I doubt you want a dead kid messing up your family, right?”

Something in Jason’s face twitches, his shoulders shifting, “Take it from me, kid… they haven’t even considered that.”

Danny tilts his head, really looking at Jason for the first time, something tickling at the back of his senses.

Jason doesn’t hesitate to meet his eyes.

He looks back through the exit tunnel, turning back a second time, “Tell ‘em I’ll be back okay? Just… not now, alright? But I’ll be back.”

And Jason nods, a silent guarantee.

Danny returns it, finally turning and flying full speed through the tunnels until he meets open air.

It feels slightly sticky compared to the coolness of the cave, but Danny simply looks around to get his bearings before turning into the distance with determination.

He doesn’t stop until he sees the shine of a golden globe pass under him. He enters the hotel straight through the walls of the elevator shaft, dropping his ghost from the second he hits carpeted halls.

And then he pauses…

Which room were they in again?

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long, as one of the doors gets thrown open moments later by the lumbering figure which can only be his dad.

“Ghost!” Dad says as he bends through the doorway, ghost-finder in his hands as he looks around until finally spotting Danny, “Danno! You’re back!”

The incessant droning of the ghost-finder is overshadowed as Danny struggles to breath around his Dad’s hug, “He..y.., Da..d” He wheezes.

He sees Jazz come bursting out of the hotel room next. She gives him a hard look before they’re both swept into Dad’s arms and practically carried back into the room.

His mom is there, tinkering on a tool Danny himself had helped design a few weeks ago.

His dad, of course, goes straight for the fudge in the mini fridge. Danny steals the remote from Jazz and plops himself down on the bed free of machine scraps.

Even as he has to keep Jazz from smothering him with a hotel pillow, Danny smiles. He feels his shoulders loosen for the first time all night.

This. This is where he belongs.

—

The demon brat’s twin was… something. They hadn’t really had the time to start forming real expectations, but most of them didn’t expect.. a ghost.

Tim can see the way Bruce’s eyes linger on the wafts of snowy hair, aching guilt lining his body whenever Danny’s back is turned even just slightly.

It doesn’t go away as they all file up to a late dinner. By Alfred’s order, they all go, pair by pair trickling up to the dining room like the most awkward yellow brick road ever.

Somewhere in the stilted chaos, Jason manages to slip out from the group, probably the first time he’s left the manor without fighting with Bruce in months.

Of course that hardly matters when the moment they step into the dining room, Danny freezes by the door, flickering again.

Tim watches as his eyes jump across them all, the table, the room, the chairs- Danny steps back and-

Vanishes.

Damian is lurching towards the door, “Danyal!”

But it’s empty. All of them had felt his presence leave, even if they hadn’t realized that’s what it was, suddenly the room is a few degrees warmer and just a bit emptier than before.

Tim looks to Bruce.

They don’t know what that was, why Danny left. Was he just scared? Or could something have happened to him? They didn’t know enough about ghosts, and what they did know said they weren’t very strong. Boston Brand couldn’t interact with the physical world without possessing someone- Danny had already said he wasn’t meant to exist on this plane, had he run out of strength?

Dick approaches Damian still brooding in the doorway, setting a hand on his shoulder- Damian throws it off immediately.

“I am fine,” he snaps, “Danyal is a coward.”

Bruce stands, “Damian, don’t say that-“

“Why shouldn’t I!? What does he have to fear!? He ran away like a coward and left me behind!”

Silence settles in the room.

Tim decides to break it, “Any chance you’re not just talking about him not staying for dinner?”

A knife pierces the wall behind him.

“I will end you, Drake.”

“Master Damian! I do not have enough portraits to continue covering holes in the paneling!” Alfred scolds, standing at the doorway.

Damian stops, glaring at them all before turning to Alfred, “I’ll take my dinner in my room please, Pennyworth.” Then he turns on his heel and strides from the room. It is too fast to be anything but fleeing.

Steph slumps into the chair beside Tim, “Boys are weird.”

Tim scowls, “Oi.”

“I stand by my statement.”

Tags:

@craftgremlin @karlyanalora @theeclecticenquirer @undead-essence @mattybook1987-blog @emergentpanda-blog @nedwec @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @serasvictoria02 @itsloveleo @yjfk @mygood-bitch99 @wolfjackle @xysidhequeen @seraphinedemort @catnek-writing-things @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @tinybrie @raginblastocyst @cyber-geist @icedbluesoul @rosesandsailboats @craftybookworms @dragonimpal67 @capricedshusara @ghostreblogging @treepainting @valiantsuitcaseskellington

Also btw, I’ve added this to my Drabble/oneshot collection on Ao3. It’s under my same Username(snaileer) with work name ‘Things That Could Exist’

Hope you enjoyed!

[trendywaifus]

↳ dramatic irony

an: this is pretty long so buckle up. i hope the pacing is okay too. if you have questions or thoughts about this, feel free to lmk and ill be happy to answer it for you. sorry it took a bit to post, i was trying to tweak stuff (still am so bear with me). i’m surprised i made the smut part pretty tame too.

records: spider devil, real name: unknown — spider–woman from planet “new babylon–18”, a dystopian planet that’s currently being overrun by devils who were once humans. for one to be become a devil is unknown.

featuring, spider–woman! kafka x spider–woman! reader

cw: strap use, cursing, teasing, penetration, petnames, praising, porn with plot, slight brat taming, spanking

NEUVA YORK

EARTH -928

“ are you seriously stopping to smoke in the lobby while miguel is waiting for us? you could of done this outside!” you coughed, lazily waving the thin clouds of smoke away from your face. your fellow spider colleague, who’s tall frame was resting against the pillar, blew out another small puff of smoke from her pink glossy lips. it amazed you that she gladly took the trouble of pulling up her mask just enough to smoke a cigarette—in a lobby full of different spider people with sensitive noses.

on cue, a series of coughs and complaints about the smoke erupts.

“ knock it off lady, this suit isn’t smoke–proof! “

“ smoking causes cancer, y’know! “

“ smoking is not allowed! this is a spidey smoke—free society! . . .is it? “

“ you need to leave! “

“ alright, alright. i’m done, people. “ she sneers, throwing the cigarette butt in a trash nearby. the spider–women casts you a little smile before pulling her mask back down. “ let’s go darling, i’m ready.” she saunters towards the exit of the lobby with you following behind. she stops at the doorway before looking over her shoulder. “ and for the itsy bitsy spider who sounded confused about this being a “ spidey smoke free society ” the lobby goes quiet. “ . . .it’s not. i don’t see a sign that says it is so i’ll do what i want~”

a loud ooh burn echoes through the wide space as you two walked out.

“ i guess you could say, she smoked them! hahaaa,”one of the spiders laughed then stopped awkwardly when they noticed nobody was humoring them. “ ok, i’ll just go swing around and rethink my life now. “

“ i can’t believe you did that. “ you grumbled, walking along one of the steel pillars, careful to not bump into the other spider members passing by. she laughs huskily, lightly nudging you with her elbow. “ oh come on, doll. technically i’m right. also, i’ll admit that the lobby wasn’t an ideal spot to smoke but i was a lil’ bored and wanted to see their reactions. “ you sighed exasperatedly. you know her enough now to find her reason to be typical. she’s a flirty yet calm, mysterious character who enjoys playing around and watching people squirm for her own entertainment.

it reminds you of a certain women you once knew. if it wasn’t for the little extra rasp in her voice and contrasting mannerisms you would of said it was her in disguise. because spider society and multiverse theory actually exists, you’re starting to think the spider–woman beside you was simply an alternate version of her. you cringed at the thought. hopefully not. you want to avoid old memories. you haven’t seen her without her mask and she hasn’t told you her name (more like she’s been avoiding it!). it could be any woman behind that mask.

yeah, she’s innocent until proven guilty.

after several long minutes of walking through open areas and closed spaces, the dark, ominous setting grows familiar. “ aaand, we’re here. “ she mumbles, crossing her arms with amusement as she sees miguel’s large silhouette standing on the small platform above with his back towards you and her, peering at various holograms.

“ you’re late. “ miguel grunts irritably, turning around to face the two of you. “ forgive us, mr. huncho man. i had to smoke. ‘can’t go on a mission without a smoke.” she admits bluntly, turning her head to wink at you and you roll your eyes. he sighs with annoyance and pinches the bridge of his nose. “ ¿por qué elegí a estas personas? creo que podría perderlo. . “ he mumbles under his breath.

“ english please, mr. huncho~ unless you can speak chinese. “

miguel grunts again, waving her off, “ enough, i’m going to talk about the mission now. “ he returns his attention back to his holographic computers and begrudgingly pulls up multiple holographic images of a huge, otherworldly tree that had vast amount of long, lanky branches. “ this phenomenon is called the imaginary tree that sits right outside of the multiverse. it’s something we discovered because of the spot’s wild dimensional rifts. one of our most important equipment was caught in one of the rifts during our recent emergency mission.—“

you him cut off, tapping your left foot, agitated,“ so let me guess, you want us to somehow go to that big ass tree that sits right outside of multiverse to find a singular equipment of ours that happen to be important? do we even have the technology to go outside—“

“ por dios, can i please finish? please? “ he growls, slamming his palm against the keyboard. “ sure, mr. i have anger issues for life.” you huffed, earning a chuckle from your partner.

“ i heard that! ugh, anyways, we learned that the leaves on those branches holds some sort of universe to them. our equipment is in one of these universes and after some time, we were able to trace and pinpoint which one it’s currently in.” miguel types for a few moments before another set of photos appears on the holographic screen. the first two pictures showed a sea of stars, planets, and stars painted on a specific leaf, and then the last two showed a planet that looked similar to earth. “ it’s on this unknown planet. — “

“ alright so what does this missing equipment look like?— “

“ i was getting to that, cállate! “

miguel smoothes his hand over his face before he resumes typing. after a few moments, two more photos of an orange cube that looked hilariously similar to a rubix cube flashes on the screen. “ pfft. . .” you stifled back your laughter as you stared at the orange, shitty looking cube. is that one of our most important equipment that was lost in some unknown universe and planet? a fucking shitty version of a rubix cube? “ why are you laughing? what’s so funny? “ miguel asks grumpily, already awfully annoyed at your disruptive behavior.

“ who made the design of that? “ you burst out laughing, hunching over as you held your stomach. “miguel, you really wanna make us get a damn rubix cube! do we have to solve the puzzle to activate it?–“

“ that’s enough! just get the damn thing! here, take these! “ he throws you two a pair of watches similar to the gizmo. you swiftly caught it and analyzed the exterior design. “ put that on your other wrist. this is for you to specifically travel outside of the multiverse to that universe. it’ll also help you locate the lost equipment and since those devices are only the beta versions, i urge you to finish the mission as quickly as possible. if you’re in trouble, i will personally come as back up. any questions? “

you raise your hand up, miguel sighs,

“ yes, you. what is your question? “

“ it’s not a question but—“

“ no, don’t even finish it, just go. “

you pouted and walked away. the taller woman giggles, sending miguel a lazy wave, “ see you soon, mr.huncho~ “

“ yeah, yeah, adios. remember what i said! “

UNIVERSE—???????

PLANET ??????

TIME: ?????

“ this earth looks beyond better than my earth! ” you said jokingly, gracefully jumping onto one of the highest buildings in a random area. the city’s architecture was beautiful and futuristic. no brick or wooden structures, the exteriors seem to be made up of some sort of metal. digital billboards were everywhere, causing the lights to contrast harshly with the night sky. do they ever get tired of ads constantly in their face everywhere they look?

“ i get you darling, if we weren’t on an important mission, i’d explore as i please. this planet is better than mine just from looks alone. it’s practically a hellhole there. “ she chuckles, her heels clinking against the metal surface as she walks towards the edge. you take off your mask to feel the wind brush through your hair. you breathe in, the air even smells fresh and clean. “ i don’t think you’ve ever told me about your home planet. you said you were from new babylon. .19? “

“ 18. “ she corrects you softly, voice barely under a whisper as she stares at you for a few moments. noticing the change in her voice and the staring from the corner of your eye, you cast her a side glance. thanks to her mask, you can’t tell the expression she has on right now. “ you okay? are you staring at me? is there something on my face?“

she leisurely walks over to you and gently lifts your chin up, making you look up at her. “ darling, did i ever tell that you have such pretty eyes? “ the tangible softness and smile in her voice made your stomach flutter. did she? she did compliment you a handful of times during your last three missions with her but you don’t recall her ever saying that. “ um, yes? no? i don’t think you’ve ever told me that surprisingly. .” you replied shyly, averting your gaze somewhere else, embarrassed by her white slits fixated on you. chuckling, she retracts her hand away and brushes past you. “ now you know. “

“ y-you’re so weird, you know that? and you still have to tell me more about your home planet! “ you yelled, hurriedly slipping your mask back on to follow her. “ i know and yes, i’ll tell you more after we’re done. right now, we have to go find and retrieve our missing cube. take a look at the device he gave us and find the radar. “

you did so, observing the unnecessarily confusing button layout. “ i don’t think that man ever told us how to properly work this thing. “ you muttered, messing around with the buttons until you luckily got to the radar screen. “ got it! “

“ good girl. now, according to the radar, our objective isn’t too far from here which makes our job easier. follow me and try to keep up, will you? “ she teases, gracefully jumping off the building and web swings away. you sighed, copying her actions and followed her not too far behind. as you swing through the bustling streets of the city and occasionally glancing at the billboard ads, there was one particular one that caught your eye. your heart drops at the sight, you nearly lost your momentum.

it was a wanted poster of a beautiful purple—haired woman who wore a low messy ponytail. she had sunglasses resting above her pupil-less eyes. “ black–spider. .” you mumbled bitterly. what bother you the most was not her identical features but her smile. that eerily familiar smile of hers made you rip your attention away from the billboard and continue following your partner ahead of you. so even in this universe, she’s. . .

“ you okay back there, doll? you’re awfully quiet.” her concerned voice comes through the intercom of your gizmo. it took you a moment to respond. “ yeah, i am. there’s so many ads, i-i kind of got a little lightheaded from trying to look at them all! “ you laughed nervously, she merely hums, not really buying your excuse but decides to brush it off.

“ we’re here by the way. it seems to be located in that museum over there. “

there was a large museum at the end of a deserted street near a semi–active highway. “ a museum? why would something like that be in a museum? “ you mused, landing ontop of the roof with the older woman. “ it seems like someone had an interesting eye of treasure. wait. .look, over there. “ she points over towards the entrance where two guards were laid out unconscious.

“ no way, that means. .”

“ mhm, we’re not the only ones looking to take something from here. be on high alert. for now let’s split up, “ she unclamps her weapon strap and pulls out her m-10, “ make sure to stay hidden until you can locate the cube. “ you squinted at her weapon. “ you want me to stay hidden but you’re going to use your gun for a stealth mission—“

she pulls out a silencer from her pouch and winks at you before firmly twisting it on the barrel. “ so what were you saying, darling? “

“ never mind, i’ll go find a vent now. “

you two swiftly departed and after ten minutes of searching, you managed to find a closed vent on the right side of the museum. “ thank god. “ you used one of your clawed fingers to tinker with the screws until you got them all loosened. after cautiously setting the metal screen to the side, you crawl inside with ease. as you moved further down the vent, you hear muffled sounds of voices; one sounded like a man and the other, a younger girl.

“ hey. “ your partner’s voice abruptly comes through the gizmo. “ yeah what is it? so far, i’m hearing two people. one a male and the other, a—“

“ i know i saw. but there’s actually three. the third one,” her voice turns strangely serious, “ which is a woman, departed from those two earlier. that little girl had told her the location of the cube we’re after. i’ll deal with those two to distract them. the cube is somewhere near the right side where you are, it’s in one of the rooms. i’m going to assume you’re still in the vents so do your best to quickly find the right room before she does. use the radar to guide you with diligence. avoid her at all costs, only interact with her when you absolutely need to. why i’m stressing this to you? it’s because i have a hunch that woman has similar abilities like i do. once i take care of those two, i’ll come straight to help you. do you get me? “

“ yes, i do. i’ll do my best. “ you say, nibbling on your bottom lip as anxiety pours into your veins.

“ good. i know everything sounds pretty worrisome right now but i promise it’s going to be okay. be careful, darling. “

the intercom blinks out leaving you alone to your thoughts. you inhale and exhale a few times to recompose yourself before continuing to crawl through the narrow space. “ to think about it now, that was the first time i ever heard her sound so. .serious. “ you muttered, glancing down at your watch to keep track of the radar. despite that woman being the way she is, you noticed how little she seemed to care about herself. she’d be quick to throw herself into line of danger for the hell of it. it was as if she did not have a lick of fear of death. but overtime, as you two completed missions together, she became a little more cautious and suspiciously protective towards you.

“ i really do want to know more about you and i will.” you vowed, stopping at a particular vent and peeked through the screen. “ that’s it! “ you cheered, observing the orange cube that was placed in a protective glass at the middle of the wide, spacey room. you slide the screen to the side and before you can jump down, the sound of a door creeps open and heels clanking against the tile floor bounces off the walls. “ oh shit, she’s. . .here. . .” you trail off in shock as the familiar woman you seen from the wanted poster approaches the display.

“ there it is. “ the magenta–haired woman drawls, her voice strikes a strong sense of deja vu in you. “ so my suspicions were right. .” your heart skip a beat as you watch the woman carefully take the protective glass off the display and sets it down on the floor. she grasps the cube in her gloved hand and analyzes it with a soft hum. “ elio wanted me to get this? how boring. “ with a heavy heart, you slowly crawled out of the vent while still remain attached to the ceiling. “ if i can get it with my web—“

from the shiny reflection of the cube, the woman catches a glimpse of you on the ceiling, and chuckles lowly. “ i can see you up there, little spider~ “ she swiftly pulls out a similar weapon like your partners and shoots at you. thanks to your spider senses, you were able to dodge swiftly and land down on to the floor. “ we can talk about this! there’s no need for the unnecessary violence!” you shouted, running around and dodging as she continues to rain bullets at you.

“ why not? i’m just simply following a script~ and you better be careful little spider, you don’t want to run into another spider’s web. “

“ excuse me, what—nngh! “

just like that, your body is restrained by thin, purple threads. where did they even come from? you tried your best to struggle but the more you did, the more tighter the threads became. “ don’t struggle now, it’ll only get more painful for you. “ she taunts, slowly approaching you, one hand holding the cube while the other was slightly clenched, purple threads emerging from her gloved fingers. how did she do that so fast? wasn’t she just shooting at you just a few moments ago?

“ i swear we can talk about this, um. .um, “

“ kafka, the name’s kafka. “ kafka smiles at you, now in front of your restrained body. “ so that’s your real name(s). . “ you said without thinking, sounding baffled and hurt. kafka raises a brow, her smile not faltering. “ i don’t know what you mean by that but yes it is. anyways, little spider, you wanted this right?“ she gestures towards the cube in her hand.

“ y-yes, kafka. that’s what i came here for. it’s technically ours so i’m basically here to get it back.”

“ ours? i see. sure, you can have it back but on one condition, dear.”

“ and what’s the condition? “

kafka’s smile turns into a smirk. “ i want to see your face. “

looking at her with wide eyes, you spat, “ see my face? what does that even accomplish for you? “ she doesn’t react to your aggression and sighs. “ look, we don’t have much time. do you agree to the condition or not? “

“ f-fine, fine. just do it already. “ where is that woman when you need her?

kafka reaches her hand out and carefully peels the mask off your head. her face twists into shock, red lips forming into a small o. why did she look so shocked to see your face? “ well? “ you raised a brow. her eyes softens and you felt the threads slightly loosen up around your body. “ I knew i recognized that voice from somewhere. elios never told me you’d be the one i’d unmask. this is a surprise for me.”

growing anxious from her calculating gaze, you turned your head to the side, nibbling on your bottom lip. a distance sound of heels hurriedly approaches the room. “ it seems like we’re out of time. so one more thing, darling, “ kafka coos, firmly grabbing your jaw to force you to look back into her eyes. “ you have very pretty eyes—“

“ that’s enough. “ sense of relief rushes through you when you see your partner hold the pointed end of her submachine gun against kafka’s head. kafka calmly puts her hands in the air, letting the threads to dissipate, and allowing your aching limbs to move freely. “ keep your head forward and give me what you have in your hand and give her back her mask. “

“ yeah, yeah, i was just about done with her anyways. here and here, sweetheart. “ kafka hands her the cube from behind her back and you you’re mask. “ by the way, you sound very familiar, i wonder who you are, hm~” even when kafka has a barrel pressed against the back of her head, she still has a relaxed smile on her face.

“ oh please. you know exactly who i am. you should also know what will happen if you disobey the next set of orders i give you. i haven’t killed anything in a while so i’m trigger happy right now and if you even think about attempting your spirit whisper on us, you can say bye to breathing. “ she nearly growls, lazily throwing you the cube after you put your mask back on.

“ how scary, you really are me. fine, i’ll be obedient. oh! I want to ask this, what did you do to the other two in the lobby? did you. .persuade them? “

“ oh, you know me so well. “ the other supposed counterpart says sarcastically, “ now, I want you to walk out that door with your arms up and don’t look back. i wiped your subordinates’ memories so they’re still waiting for you in the lobby. go ahead and walk. don’t look back unless you’re ready to eat a bullet~“

kafka simply chuckles and follows the orders that was given to her. she saunters towards the doors, taking several steps before she stops. “ one last thing, i promise. since you’re me, look out for her, would ya? you know who i’m talking about. “

“ no comment. “

kafka’s shoulders shrugs as a another chuckle escapes her lips and she walks out the door. your partner sighs heavily, putting her m-10 back into her strap. “ now let’s hurry up and return back. i’ll be right behind you. i had enough of me for today. “ you quietly nodded.

NEUVA YORK

EARTH-929

“ so is kafka really your name? “ you asked softly, fiddling around with the cube in your hands, staring off towards the futuristic scenery on a sky–scraper. kafka stands beside you with her arms crossed. “ yes it is, darling. i didn’t tell you because, well, to avoid things getting complicated between us. I guess it doesn’t matter much now though. “

“ it did get complicated for me but why would it be for you?”

kafka sighs, “ just like any other spider–men and spider–women here, we lost someone precious to us which is what they call it our canon event. the person i lost whom i loved was you. “ you peer at her with wide eyes, nearly dropping the cube in your hands. “ me? i know typically a spider loses a gwen, mj, peter, or family member but, me? is that why you act so. .weird around me? “

“ what, weird? you mean me complimenting you and whatnot? darling, you may not be my (name) but it doesn’t change the fact that i find you very beautiful~ you may look similar to her but your personalities and style makes you two completely different people in my eyes. admittedly, i fell in love with you, the you standing right here beside me. the you who i have a second chance to protect. “

you stand there in silence, processing her words. the kafka standing beside you was different from the one in your universe. the one who apparently didn’t trust you enough to tell you her real name, the one who disappeared without a trace. “ it feels so weird to be told this from you, well not you.— “

“ let me guess, an alternative me in your world?“ kafka inquired, you nod your head meekly. “ yes, but she was black spider—well she called herself that but the norm here is black cat apparently. she was very hard to catch but she always knew how to attract me. there was some instances where we fought together for a common goal and through that we’ve got closer, well by closer, i mean. . “ your cheeks turn red from the sudden flashbacks rushing through your head.

kafka laughs at the shy tone of your voice, “ so it was like that, huh? lucky me. “ you rolled your eyes, pulling your mask off due to it getting embarrassingly stuffy. “ a-as i was saying, one thing led to another and something came up. “ you frowned, “ a group called pteruges-v devils, a group of wannabe devils appeared out of no where and after i took care of them with her, she. .completely disappeared without saying a word. “

she hums, “ pterugues-v devils. .even in your universe, they’re such a pain to deal with. “ you perked up, looking at her in confusion. “ you have that group in your universe too? “

kafka snorts, “ a group? they’re a literal race. well, they were once humans who turned into devils. “ okay, that’s interesting. “ how does that work? “ you asked skeptically.

“ humans who dedicate their lives to pleasure and destruction turn into devils. “ she explains simply.

“ and you fight these devils daily? “

“ yes that’s right darling. it gets pretty tedious after a while but i’m just doing what i can for my home world and to pass time. but as for the situation with that alternative me in your universe, i have no doubt in my mind that she left a letter behind for you somewhere. that’s something i would do if i had to leave with the intention of never coming back. “ you hope so. closure is nice for a change.

“ i’ll make sure to look around for a letter when i return back to my universe, kafka. thank you. “ albeit you can’t see her, kafka smiles behind her mask and pats your head, your chest tightens with warmth. abruptly, you gently pushed away her hand, causing the taller woman to emit out a confused hum. “ by the way, i haven’t seen your face yet. i mean, i technically did but i wanna see you. “

after a moment of silence, kafka merely shrugs. “ of course, doll. “ she slowly takes off her mask and almost immediately, light purple tresses flows down her shoulders and stops just above her breasts. she managed to fit all that hair under her mask, what was her secret? her face was fairly the same much like the two kafkas. the only difference between her and them was her hair being a lighter purple and her eyes were purple and pink with black slits as pupils. nonetheless, she was still stunning. “ and you say i’m the beautiful one. “ you snorted. without thinking, you reached out to touch her cheek. chuckling, kafka nuzzles against your palm, her lips stretches into a grin, showing off her fangs.

“ fangs. .that’s. . .actually hot. “ you mumbled, (e/c) eyes subconsciously flickering towards her eyes and parted lips. she gets the message and curls a strong arm around your frame, pulling you closer to her. “ mm, i’m flattered. “ she smirks, leaning down to kiss your nose, cheeks, and finally your lips. her lips were slightly chapped but felt perfect against yours—they always did.

“ you think miguel knows we‘re back? “ you asked between kisses. kafka hums, “ mhm, maybe. “ she kisses the side of your mouth and down your jaw, your breath hitches. “ do you want to stop and report back to him, babydoll? “ god, you’re starting to feel things when kafka calls you petnames like that. “ unfortunately yes, and actually after that, do you want to. .have a glass of wine with me at my place? or my universe? “

she pulls herself away, purple eyes twinkling with anticipation. “ i prefer vodka but sure. “ your nose crunched up in disgust, “ ew, vodka? yeah, i did not expect that from you but then again, you are pretty crazy. i guess that runs in the dna. “

kafka rolls her eyes with a smirk, “ runs in the dna? ironic coming from you, darling. but you know what?”

“ what? “

she tilts her head, leans close to your ear, and purrs, “ but you love it. “

you groan, lightly smacking her shoulder before pulling yourself away from her. you turned around to hide the flustered look on your face, missing kafka’s warm smile. “ l-let’s go report back to miguel, i can already hear him cursing at us in spanish with a constipated look on his face. “ you stretch for a bit and slip your mask on. “ then after that, we can relax at my place. make sure to not get lost behind me, yeah? ” just like that, you dived off the sky scraper, free falling. kafka chuckles, watching as you casually twist your body around and give her a cute little wave.

“ i can’t wait for the others to find out more about you for themselves. but for now, i get to have you all to myself~ “ with a snap of her fingers, her mask that she had hand in her hand, disappears and reappears back on her head, masking her. she dives off the edge, intending to catch up to your figure falling down ways below her.

|—|

“ we’re back, mr huncho~ “ kafka announced, walking into his little lair with you side by side. miguel parted his mouth to lecture you two about being late again until you held up the cube for him; his mouth closes and he simply sighs. “ good work, you two. how was the mission? did the device i give you cause any hinderance? “ he asks, taking the cube from your hand with one of his red spiderwebs.

“ not at all! it worked pretty well for us, miguel. thanks for lending it to us! it helped a lot! “

“ you’re welcome~” lyla reveals herself in front of you, booping your nose with a holographic finger. “ lyla, i missed you! where were you when miguel was cursing at me in spanish! “ you pouted.

“ okay, no i did not—“ lyla gasps at him and miguel loudly grunts, teleporting in front of him with her arms crossed. “ while i was away giving a tour guide to one of our newest members, you were giving one of my favorites a hard time? how dare you! “

annoyed, miguel skims a hand over his face and waves her off. “ we’re not doing this right now—you two, give me back the beta devices so you can go. “

“ yeah ladies, so i can annoy deal with him! “

“ oh dios mio, que alguien me mate ahora. “

NEW YORK, UPSTATE MANHATTAN

EARTH—2024

TIME: 11:50 PM

“ not the reaction i was expecting for but did you see his reaction when lyla got in his face? he was so over it! “ you laughed, sliding one of your half open window up so you can enter inside, kafka follows behind. “ mhm, that man is certified sassy. i’m almost jealous. “ she crosses her arms, looking around what she assumes to be your living room. two small, black settee sofa and a small brown wooden coffee table at the middle with record player on it. not bad.

“ i’m going to go get the wine from a small wine cabinet i have in the kitchen and i’ll see if i can find the vodka. i think i have an untouched bottle my friend gifted to me. “ you said, taking off your mask and tossed it on the kitchen counter as you entered into the kitchen. “ wine cabinet? i didn’t know you had it like that, doll. “ kafka joked, sitting down on the sofa and props her leg over the other. she takes off her mask and sets it aside her. gloved fingers runs through her purple hair to push back the hair away from her eyes.

“ well, my friend’s friend, who’s a researcher, gave it to me as a gift for contributing to their research. I promise i’m not rich like you think i am. i was just very lucky and was only able to get a job because of my ex—ugh, it’s hard to explain and it gets kinda complicated. “ you sighed, opening the wine cabinet to grab a bottle of wine and luckily a bottle of vodka after searching for a bit. “ don’t worry, i’m all ears darling, you can explain it to me while we sit and drink. “

you grabbed two glasses and poured the drinks. “ no, no, i’m being serious kafka. i’ll try to summarize it. “ careful not to spill the drinks, you slowly walked back into the living room and handed her her drink and plopped down next to her. “ alright, talk to me. “ she drawls with amusement, bringing the glass of vodka to her lips. “ so, i met my ex back in high school who at the time, was my friend. her name was himeko. “ kafka abruptly coughs, nearly choking on her drink. you throw her a concerned look. “ what? are you okay—“

“ no, no, darling. it just went down the wrong hole, that’s all. “ she clears her throat, sending you a shaky, tight–lipped smile. you merely blinked at her. “ okay? anyways, through her, i met her former girlfriend, topaz and i became long–term friends with them until college. topaz’s step–father, adventerine, was the ceo of a popular bank called bust. he had connections because of his status and one of his connections was to a ambitious research company that he was funding. the same company where topaz’s friend, asta, is a lead researcher at. “

you stopped to take a long sip of your wine, the bitter yet addictive taste of wine flows down your throat. kafka hums, lazily swirling the drink in her palm. “ what is this research company about? “

“ it’s called astral wonders, it’s a multi–layered research company. one section of researchers focuses on aerospace, second section, aeronautics, third, computer science, and the last one, biology. i was a part–time researcher in the biology unit where i met my. .former mentor at. “ kafka raises a brow at the sad tone of your voice. something definitely had happen between you and former mentor.

“ anyways yeah, after topaz and himeko broke up during college, me and himeko got close. we ended up getting together after college and dated for three years. the first year of us dating, i graduated with a biology degree and wanted a job fast. during that time, me and topaz wasn’t really on good terms so himeko managed to convince her to land me a spot at the research company and the rest was history. .with a few twist and turns. but, that’s a story for another time. “

“ can’t wait to hear that one, doll. i’m sure you’ve been through a lot while maintaining your spidey identity. i can see in your eyes that have strong sense of who you are. “ kafka smiles, taking one last sip of her vodka and places it on the coffee table. “ what’s with you and my eyes? “ you inquired, taking a sip of the wine. you were starting to feel tipsy. kafka lets out a low chuckle, she reaches her hand out to touch your thigh, causing you to freeze up.

“ come closer and i’ll tell you, i promise i won’t bite~” kafka purrs in a raspy, seductive voice. your body grows hot when her gaze looks you up and down with roguish intent. she beckons you closer with a finger and you lean your body towards her without hesitation. “ i’d be mad if you didn’t,“ you mumbled, taking it upon yourself to close the distance until your lips are brushing against hers. “ now tell me why you like my eyes. “

you swear her pupils dilated when you said that. “ they say that the eyes are a window to a person’s soul, “ she started, snaking her hand under your knee and propped your leg over her lap. you place a hand on her shoulder, ready to pounce on her lap. “ and to put it simply, those (color) eyes of yours hold so much transparency to them that i can almost see what you’re feeling, yet when i try to pry deeper, i simply see a reflection of myself. your soul is rightfully guarded and that’s what i like. “

“ how poetic, kafka. “ you whispered, holding back a soft groan as her lips trail down your jaw. kafka giggles, kissing at your heated skin. “ on my lap, darling. “ she says, tapping your knee. you quickly shifted on her lap, straddling her. her dark purple, gloved hands hooks themselves on your hips. your lips fully presses against hers and thread your fingers in her purple hair. you were quick to deepen the kiss, tilting your head. kafka’s tongue skims along your bottom lip, you open your mouth just enough for her to slip inside. the strong taste of vodka fills your tastebuds as her tongue swirls with yours, eliciting a moan from your throat. you’re starting to feel even more intoxicated.

“ ‘want you. “ you breathed, after breaking the kiss too soon for kafka’s liking. her hands explores up your sides then back down until she stops at your thighs and squeezes them through your spandex tights. “ oh, i know, babydoll. “ she stands up, easily lifting you up with her and instinctively, you wrap your legs around her waist. “ where’s your bedroom? or do you want to continue here? ‘doesn’t matter to me~ “

“ my bedroom is just around the corner through the main open doorway. “ you whispered, burying your face into the crook of her neck. she follows your directions and a minute later, your back hits the sweet surface of your mattress. “ doesn’t it feel illegal that we’re gonna have sex and we’re not even from the same universe? “ you asked between kisses, kafka draws out a long hum before simply saying,

“ there’s no rule saying we can’t so i don’t see any wrong in having some fun. “ she helps you undress out of your suit and you try to do the same for her but she stops you. you give her a puzzled look. “ no need, darling. this suit is tech. “

“ what? “ you watch in awe as her suit loses form, leaving glitchy led screens in its wake similar to miguel’s suit. “ how did you get your hands on that?”

“ it’s a secret~ “ she replies smugly, enjoying the appalled expression on your flushed face as your eyes scanned her now naked body. you clicked your tongue, you really need to stop being attracted to crazy women. her hand dips down your stomach and plays with your clit. a soft moan erupts from your throat. “ fuck. .”

kafka buries her face into the crook of your neck and drags her lips downward, sharp fangs gently grazing your skin. a shiver runs down your spine. “ usually i’ll be back home after a mission and relax with a glass of vodka but i’m pleased i get the chance of spending my night fucking you, doll. “ she pulls away to hold intimate eye contact with you, her lustful gaze made your heart wanna explode.

“ sh-shut up and get the strap before you drive me crazy. there’s a black box just under the bed where i have it inside.“

“ anything for you, sweets. “ kafka purrs, removing herself off of you and gets on her knees to search under the bed. she finds the box with ease and pulls it out with the help of her spider web. she examines the box and takes off the lid. “ mm, interesting. “ the plastic cock was thick and about six inches, and the design was black with purple webs engraved on it, nearly identical to her own suit. kafka already knew where this was from and she couldn’t help but feel a sliver of something—something she hasn’t felt for a long time; jealousy. “ at least she has taste. “ kafka scoffs, standing upright to put on the harness.

“ did she ever use this on you? “ she asks strangely, brows slightly furrowed with a little frown on her face. “ no, she never got to use it and neither did i. “ kafka’s face visibly lights up, her lips stretches into a dark grin, inducing an odd sense of excitement in you. “ good.“ she positions herself between your legs as they hanged off the foot of the bed. “ i hope she doesn’t mind me seizing the opportunity to fuck you with her—well, technically my cock, hm? “ the fat plastic tip broadly strokes your folds, causing you to groan.

kafka holds your hips in place, watching you squirm with a sly expression on her face as she teases your pussy in broad, languid strokes. “ mmph, stop teasing me, kafka, “ you moaned, attempting to lift your hips off the mattress for more friction, she holds you back down. “ no can do, babydoll. “ she croons, running the mushroom tip down to your entrance and slowly slips inside then immediately back out. you grit your teeth, agitated.

“ oh my fucking god, i said—ouch! “ you gasp loudly as she smacks your ass. the stinger lingers while she props one of your legs on her shoulder. “ watch that mouth of yours. be nice and i’ll consider giving you want you want. “ kafka rasps, and goes back to her previous actions, shallowly thrusting into your cunt with no intentions of going deeper. waves of pleasure washes over you agonizingly slow, making you increasingly frustrated. you bite the inside of your cheek, holding back a snarky remark.

“ please kafka, i need it—you, please. m’sorry for cursing at you, i didn’t mean it. “ you whimpered, cutely jutting your bottom lip. kafka peers down at you, observing your face for any signs of deceit. her eyes softens ever so slightly when she sees the raw desperation in your eyes. “ atta girl. it wasn’t so hard now was it? “ her hips thrusts forward, pushing the rest of her inches inside of your drooling hole.

a throaty moan escapes your lips as her thick length fills you up. kafka delves down until she’s face to face with you, pushing your bent leg against your shoulder, rocking her hips back and forth. “ be as loud as you want, i wanna hear your pretty voice, baby. “ she whispers softly, peppering your face with kisses. you held onto her for dear life as her cock splits you open, deliciously hitting against your sweet spots.

“ fuck, it feels s’good! “ you whined, closing your eyes in pleasure as kafka speeds up her pace. she squishes your cheeks with her fingers, making you adorably pout. kafka tsks, “ open those pretty eyes, let me see em’ again.” you tentatively open yours eyes and looked straight at her. “ good girl~ “ she kisses your pouty lips, continuing to fuck her length into your sopping pussy.

tears fills your hazy (e/c) eyes. “ is my baby crying? “ she asks teasingly, slamming her hips into your ass and then grinds. “ can’t help it. .” you mutter back, tears running down your squished cheeks. kafka was quick to lick them up, relishing the salty taste. “ don’t worry, you look even more adorable when you cry. “ she coos, releasing your face to give your reddened ass cheek a little smack. this time, you moaned, gummy walls fluttering around her.

“ ‘think i might cum. .! “ you babbled, holding on to the older woman’s body for dear life, digging your nails into her back. “ you think or you know, darling? “ she groans, fucking you nice and slow, each drag of her cock has you writhing in pleasure and you’re on the verge of seeing stars.

“ i know, i know—!“ you let out a strangled moaned, legs trembling as you cummed on her strap. kafka brings you into a sloppy kiss, sucking and nibbling on your swollen bottom lip, careful to not draw blood. she slowly rocks into you, whispering sweet promises against your lips as you rode your high. “ you did so well for me, darling. “ kafka gently slides your leg off her shoulder, allowing it to dangle off the bed while you lay there exhausted.

“ but was slapping my ass like i’m some little kid necessary? “ you grumbled, sending her a weak glare. kafka laughs, caressing your tear–stricken cheek with her thumb. “ yep, mama has to put her baby in check when she’s gets out of line—“

“ please don’t you ever refer to yourself as mama and never say that again. “

|—|

NEW YORK, UPSTATE MANHATTAN

TIME: 7:57 AM

(BONUS)

you groan, drowsy eyes slowly flutters open as the warmth of the morning sun hits your bare skin. sitting up, you stretched your stiff arms. “ damn, i’m thirsty. “ you yawned, mouth dry. suddenly, an arm loosely curls around your waist, making you flinch. “ if you want a glass of water darling, i can get up and get it for you. “ kafka drawls, drowsiness evident in her voice. she peeks up at you through her unruly purple locks, casting you a lazy smile.

“ o-oh, you’re still here, kafka. “ you said, surprised. she hums, reaching out to grasp your hand, brings it up to her lips, and kisses your knuckles. “ why would i not be? i wouldn’t leave just like that unless something or someone requires my time. “ you giggled, already knowing who she’s directing her shade at.

“ nonetheless, thank you, kafka. for everything, really. you done so much for me and i can’t thank you enough for it. i wouldn’t have gotten so far in the spider society without you. “ you smile brightly at her. a light blush stains her creamy cheeks. has she also ever told you that you look like an angel when you smile?

“ aw, isn’t that adorable. but you’re welcome sweetheart. like i said, anything for you. and if nothing comes up later, i can look for the letter with you the other me could of possibly left behind. “

“ i would like that, my spidey in crime. “

[cherrychilli]

Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter one

Eddie Munson, AFAB reader, neighbor! reader.

Reader and Eddie are the same age - she's in College and he's repeating his senior year once again.

Chapter Summary: You discover that Eddie's been practicing a very interesting new trick on his guitar, one which he offers to use on you under the guise of giving you some much needed stress relief.

A/N: Listen, series scare the shit out of me but I'm trying to challenge myself with a tiny one. I kind of already feel like I'm biting off more than I can chew but I'm going to give it my best shot.

Inspired by those clips of Steve Vai and Jimi Hendrix. ifkyk.

Chapter warnings: Nothing explicit this chapter. Some suggestive stuff but the real smut begins next chapter, so if you want more you better let me know!

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He's doing it again. Of course he's doing it again.

You tilt your head forward, forehead dropping into your hands. Heatedly, you mutter your annoyance under your breath, thumbs rubbing at throbbing temples and eyes squeezing shut when the music picks up to an ear ringing volume.

Eddie Munson took sick pleasure in riling you up – you were certain of that given how he only ever seemed to plug in his guitar when it was time for you to study your coursework, wrecking your concentration and making your temper skyrocket with a kind of ease only he was capable of.

For years, you’d taken issue with the fact that your trailer neighbored his own, your bedroom becoming an echo chamber for every blaring chord progression and heavily distorted guitar riff that strummed out from Eddie's open window.

And as always, you felt the need to make your displeasure known.

Abandoning your textbooks, you hastily shove your shoes on to stomp over next door. You knew from painful experience that it was best to head behind the Munson’s trailer and approach Eddie’s bedroom window than to pound on the front door, the sound of his playing almost always too loud for him to notice your knocking.

Trampling over the patchy, dry lawn that lay between your homes, you made your way across, rounding the corner and striding up to the open window, fuming with thoughts of what you’d yell at him this time when you caught sight of the metalhead.

As expected, he's rocking out in the center of his unruly bedroom. No doubt having tuned the rest of the world out, channeling so much of his wild, boundless energy into his playing.

His mop of dark messy curls aren't tied back today, allowed to sway, tumble and whip around his face as he played to an audience of some devilish looking posters and a couple figurines that stood on his crowded desk, probably a part of that fantasy game he's always going on about.

He's dressed in grey sweats that hang low around his hips and a ratty old band tee that tended to ride up, you couldn't help but notice.

‘At least he’s got clothes on today’, you thought to yourself mirthlessly, only a touch thankful for the silver lining of not having to confront him while he's shirtless or in his boxers again. Not that he’d ever minded you seeing him like that before.

Your last encounter with Eddie was one you hoped to soon forget, cringing because he'd caught your gaze wandering when you came over to reprimand him for the noise again, becoming noticeably distracted by his bare chest and the tattoos adorning it.

You don't know how it happened, only that you fell into a sort of daze when your eyes slipped lower to follow the slope of his pale tummy, leading to the sparse trail of dark hair which thickened below his belly button and disappeared underneath the waistband of his boxers.

D'you want a picture or something, darling?, he'd quipped, growing even more pleased with himself when your face turned hot and the embarrassment of getting caught had you stuttering out the first thing you could manage.

"F-fuck off, Munson", you spit back and retreated awkwardly, the sound of his barking laughter as you did so ringing in your ears long after you made it back into your room and hid underneath your blankets for a good hour.

Yeah, that was hard to live down. As was trying to expunge the image of Eddie's unclothed torso from your mind.

Most times he could anticipate your arrival, like a lightning storm only he could forecast but this time he hasn’t seemed to noticed you yet, tongue pinched between his lips in concentration while his fingers travelled skillfully over the ebony fretboard of his guitar.

Watching him play like that sometimes made you think that if he hadn't plagued you for half your life with all of his antics, you might have admitted that he was good musician - that he had talent most people didn't care to acknowledge and maybe even go so far as to say that you found it impressive that he’d managed teach himself how to play in lieu of any lessons.

But you weren’t about to sing Eddie Munson's praises. Not when he was seconds away from making you pop a vein.

Taking a deep breath in, you prepared yourself to start the unpleasant cycle of bickering with your neighbor once again, hoping against hope that, at the very least, it'll be a short exchange this time.

“Ed-"

You meant to catch his attention with a single shout but the heated call flattens on your tongue in an instant, heart beat kicking up as you watch what he does next.

He lifts his treasured Warlock and you're half afraid for him when he casually flips the front of the instrument towards his face, its angular design and jagged edges enough to worry you even when he played on it the regular way.

But it's when his tongue stretches out, long and slick like a serpent, that things start to feel...hazy. Speechlessly, you stare as he slides it along one of the guitar's six strings, following the length of it from near the bottom of the fretboard while his left hand continued to flit over the strings by the neck, creating harmonics in a way you’d never thought was possible before.

Are my palms sweating?

The sound begins to shift again and your eyes bulge when he slides his tongue back down, flicking and picking the guitar strings by the tip of it with more speed and dexterity than you'd thought was possible, his fingers continuing to move seamlessly to hold down every note.

Eyes closed (and there was no chance of you letting that happen) there was no way you could've told the difference than if he’d been playing with his fingers all along, the sound just as sharp and crisp as as every time before.

It's filthy, bordering on vulgar the way he’s moving the silky pink muscle so expertly, so much so that it makes you feel like you're intruding, peeping in on something that only happened behind closed doors.

But that gnawing feeling isn't anywhere near enough to make you stop looking. Your gaze stays planted firmly on Eddie's mouth, the sight making your head crowd with static and your belly swirl with heat. Your thighs had been clamped together too, you realize, a sickening realization dawning over you when they rub together, registering the dampness pooling between them underneath your skirt.

Oh my god…am I w-?

And just as abruptly as the realization had sunk in, the song ends. Deafening silence returns to your shared corner of the trailer park when Eddie sets the guitar back down to hang by the strap fixed over his shoulder, eyes flicking to you as if he'd known all along that you'd been standing there, gawking at him.

"So, what do you think? pretty good, right? been working on it for weeks", he pants out, chest rising and falling softly with each labored breath.

Somehow, this feels so much worse than when he caught you staring the last time.

With luck, you're able to shake yourself out of your trance like state, round eyes narrowing in preparation to berate him as originally intended

"Fucking hell, Eddie would you keep it down? I'm trying to study!", you agonize, scrambling to find your fury again.

But your tone doesn’t seem to bother him, it rarely ever did. So he leans through the open window, elbows resting on the window pane, eyeing you up and down all amused.

"You look stressed", he observes, and it's the flippant way in which he does it that ticks you off, with the kind of lopsided smile you’d often described as annoying. For the most part because he’d almost always done something to that effect before flashing you one.

"I am", you confirm with an acidic glare, hoping he couldn't tell how frazzled his little performance had left you.

"And you're not helping so knock it off"

Turning on your heel, you're desperate to retreat back to your place for a reprieve, heart hammering inside your chest when he calls out to you again.

"I could help you relax, y'know"

The way he says it makes you pause, like he's about to let you in on a secret.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "I'm not buying weed from you Eddie", you answer back over your shoulder, trying to look unimpressed as you attempt to turn him down.

"I wouldn't charge", the boy winks at you without missing a beat, undeterred by your cold attitude and you hate that his persistence makes your face feel hot.

"But that's not what I was going to suggest"

"Oh?"

You turn around to face him again, intrigue building.

He takes a moment to scan you thoughtfully, brows furrowing, almost as if he's weighing the outcomes of what might happen if he were to continue.

"You liked what you saw, right?", his brown eyes flicked down to his guitar and back up to you in quick reference to what you were hoping to avoid.

The mention of what you'd witnessed him doing with his tongue brings that hot, sticky feeling sitting at the base of your stomach back in full force, alarm bells ringing in your head.

"What does that have to do with anything?", you ask cautiously, realizing a second too late that you’ve only confirmed his suspicion.

"Well..."

Eddie curls a finger up at you, rings glinting in the sunlight, beckoning you closer and for some reason you actually oblige, stepping up to his window until you’re only a foot apart from one another.

Low and throaty, he whispers to you. "I can do a lot more with my tongue than just shred on my guitar", flicking the muscle salaciously between his lips like a viper ready to strike.

It should revolt you, watching the crude gesture courtesy of the bane next door, the implication behind it enough to make your skin crawl.

So why doesn't it?

Why does it make you want to leap at him and close the distance between the two of you, hungry to feel his tongue against your own?

"You're disgusting", you tell him instead in an attempt to deflect, voice wavering through the lie.

But he's too astute to be fooled now. "And you like it", he counters easily.

"So are you going to cut the bullshit and climb in here or what?"

You stare at the hand he holds out to you and before you can think to just walk away, before you can pull yourself together and stifle the roaring fire inside lapping at your bones, your fingers have found their way to his.

[martyfive]

i lay in bed sick for two weeks straight. first there’s body temperature i never knew was possible for a human to have, then there are coughs that feel like they may be the last ones i could ever have in my life, then there’s weakness, then my five year old phone falls down from the bed ending up completely broken, then the bed sheets become something i couldn’t bear to see anymore. then i get up, go outside and unexpectedly find myself at the offer of a somewhat steady part job at this small italian restaurant we’ve been visiting every sunday sharp for the last year and a half except for these two weeks i spent lying sick in bed. we are leaving the bar for the night when R. asks me if i’d like to help her at the bar a couple hours a week.

“i have no experience or anything,” i say, feeling extremely daft. “i’m not even sure i can talk to people properly. i never really could.”

“it’s okay,” she says. “you’ll be polishing the glasses. it’s not hard. i’ll teach you everything.”

on our way home A. says, “it could be good for you, you know. being among people and trying something new,” and i feel like he’s right.

at this point this small restaurant already feels like another home i want to belong to. going there every sunday for so long totally helped with that. they have one of my works i gave them as a present for christmas on the wall. it hangs up above the table me and A. occupied the first time we ever came to eat there. the frame contains pages from a sketchbook i used to draw in while visiting italy five years ago. it feels too personal, but also somehow on it’s place. i hate to hoard the stuff i create. i want to be bolder.

regretting my life choices, i spend all what’s left from my last year’s salary on a new phone. it’s a first phone i bought without anyone’s help. it costs more than i deserve.

i can’t find any will to start drawing again after being sick for two weeks.

a couple days later i go to the restaurant to ask R. about the time i can get to work. she says, “this thursday, 6:30 pm,” and then adds, tugging on my star wars hoodie, “and put on a black shirt, if you have one”.

so i find one that looks like A. has been wearing it during his teenage years when he looked more like a stick than a human and i go for the job that for the first time in my life has nothing to do with any kind of art except the art of making cocktails i still keep messing up. a couple hours a week somehow soon turns into ten as normally as “polishing glasses” turns into “doing everything there is possible to do as quickly as possible”.

“would you like to do thirty hours a week?” R. asks one day looking hopeful as if i hadn’t broken ten of their glasses in the first five days of work.

“my back is gonna die sooner than you expect it to if i agree to that,” i answer. and it really is the only reason i don’t say yes.

i soon notice there is no time to think of anything else except the work to be done while i am behind the bar once again forgetting the difference between prosecco and chardonnay or picking the ice from the ice machine or freezing in the giant fridge while looking for the specific crate of beer everyone in this town drinks more often than water. the countless amount of crates are brought from and to the back room. the ten glasses are crushed, four of them in my own hands just from squeezing too hard on them. i cringe about every single one of them before falling asleep after coming home around midnight with my aching back and more money than i ever earned drawing pictures. i think about that one time my friend told me that once you start working in catering, there’s no way back. i haven’t talked to her in a while and i can’t ask her if she still thinks it’s true.

i still can’t draw. i guess it will pass. i still cough although i’m trying not to be loud when i’m behind the bar.

“you smoke?” R. asks. “i do. i just don’t have time.”

“i’ve been smoking since i was sixteen. but not anymore really,” i say to that. “when my mother calls me, then i smoke. but that doesn’t happen very often.”

M. laughs at that as if he understands what i’m talking about and says, “with this job, i either smoke a cigarette or kill somebody,” and i laugh with him.

M. is the chef and the restaurant is named after him. he cooks so good there is surely nothing better i’ve ever eaten in my entire life. i hear all about it from guests while picking the dishes from the tables, smiling and pretending my hands are not shaking. he and R. speak to each other in loud italian and i like how they sound even if i only understand a couple words from their dialogues.

“what’s allora?” i ask one time.

R. looks at me like i’m the only one who ever asked her a silly question like that, “huh,” she says, “i don’t know. it’s like here we go or something like that,” and she smiles.

i like talking to her. for some reason i like asking her questions and seeing the surprise on her face. she’s five years older than me but i feel like a child around her. she also has her birthday in november.

“all my family are scorpions,” she says after revealing the fact that there’s ten days between our birthdays. she names at least ten of the members of her family and all their november birthday dates in a row.

i say, “the parties must be hilarious when you all gather together.”

more often i feel like she’s my serious boss i keep disappointing with my every move but at the end of the shifts she turns into what feels more like a friend. i secretly hope i can be her friend one day even though it seems like she knows the name of every human being in this town and even some other nearby towns and doesn’t really need any more friends than she already has. but after all, i’m a part of this town now, too.

“what is your favourite thing to do here here at the bar?” i ask the other day.

she looks puzzled for a second, “maybe serving fish,” she says and this time it’s my turn to feel surprised. i saw how it’s done, and i don’t really know what she means.

“i thought it’s talking to people or something,” i say.

“nah,” she waves her hand, “it’s just my job, you know.”

i regret entering this territory but i still ask, “would you better like to do something else? some other job?”

“nah,” she says again, smiling, “i like it.”

and i like it too. horrifyingly, i like it too much. thinking about sitting at home and drawing stuff like i used to do all my life feels like a torture. it surely is one when i pick up my tablet and pencil and stare at the white canvas not knowing who i am anymore. there is nothing in my head i want to say. there is nothing my hands can do. i have no idea why. i want to go back behind the bar and ask R. what her favourite colour is.

“i’m proud of you,” A. says one night while we’re going back home from the restaurant where he got his two beers and one glass of whiskey i poured for him myself. he spent two hours sitting at the bar not far from these three teenage boys who have been drinking an enormous amount of beer and playing cards and then trying to guess where i come from according to my accent. “i’m proud that you’re doing good and you found something that you like so much.”

i buy two black shirts and jeans. i take my old black coat out of the wardrobe. i walk for two minutes from home to the bar and back looking fancier than ever. i feel happier than ever. i don’t look at my social media. i feel like this rotten sadness and loneliness that occupied my head for so long has nothing to do with my life now. i wonder if it’s just a phase. i consider finding a new therapist just to ask them if it’s okay to feel this good or i should be medicated before it’s too late. i want to go to bed at proper hour, wake up earlier, spend the day feeling good and then go to the bar and ask R. stupid questions and be stressed about the things i can control. i look at my workplace at home, at the white canvas that reflects nothingness in my head, at everything i have ever known, and i don’t know what to do.

i go back to work.

“you like it here?” M. asks almost every time. “is everything okay?”

“everything’s okay,” i say, smiling. and i mean it.

someone’s ordering an espresso at 11 pm. R. says, “tell them the coffee machine is already off,” turning it off while saying it. i laugh. i feel happy. i go home knowing there’s gonna be more work to be done tomorrow. i miss drawing stuff. i have nothing to say. i fall asleep thinking of the ten glasses i broke. in the morning, i can’t draw. i used to draw most of my stuff at the evenings and during the nights. now they are full of beer glasses and beer crates and adhd people who want an espresso before bed.

i ask myself if that really is how growing up feels like. i ask myself what i am going to do if i will not be able to draw a single piece of art ever again. i read the email of the person who wants me to draw an artwork for them. i wonder if they should know i’m an imposter who can’t draw anymore. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i go to work.

there’s a wedding at the restaurant. i once again bring what feels like an endless amount of bottle crates from the back room to the bar. i smile. i talk to people. i wipe the tables. i polish the glasses. i pour beer into them.

“my back hurts,” R. says.

“willkommen to the club,” i tell her, although for some reason my back doesn’t really hurt.

someone orders a beer and then changes their mind after the bottle was already opened.

“it’s yours if you want it,” R. says. “your shift is over anyway.”

and i stay. i sit at the bar as if i don’t really work there. i drink my beer, i talk to R. while she puts the new napkins on tables, makes sure everyone from the wedding paid what they had to and lets me ask her my questions. i pay for another beer, taking money from my fresh salary. R. rolls her eyes at that but allows me to pay anyway. she’s not a boss anymore. just… a friend. i tell her i don’t wanna go home.

“i can see that,” she laughs. “do you have friends here in town?” she asks.

i look at the bottom of my glass.

“no,” i say. there’s a lady on our street i sometimes walk our dogs together with. she’s as old as my mother. i always forget the names of her three kids although they’re all around my age. i wonder if i should mention her. “i have friends in other places. you know. not here.”

“i can be your friend here,” she says, smiling.

i feel like it’s the happiest day of my life. i’m also a little drunk on schwarzbier. even if my back would hurt i wouldn’t have noticed.

“if you need someone as me as a friend,” i say, “then. yeah. sure. uh. why not.”

we talk some more. the beer tests my language skills. i tell her i want a new tattoo. she says she got the first one when she was sixteen and it was a horrible butterfly.

“what is your favourite colour?” i finally ask.

she looks really baffled at that, then pulls out her phone. “i guess it’s red,” she says, showing me some of photos from her instagram where she’s younger than me now and is dressed up in red. “see, it looks good on me,” and she’s right. “but white is also good. and pink. and maybe purple. not black though. with my black hair, it doesn’t look good at all.”

we’re both dressed in black for work.

i come to the conclusion that colours are the least important thing in the world to her. that’s okay. i think about all the years i spent trying to make colours work. i wanna say something, but end up saying nothing.

she turns the lights off and locks the restaurant up. we spend a couple minutes walking in the same direction to our houses. i tell her about the name my friends from other places are calling me. i don’t tell her why it’s different from the one she saw on my id card. i’m not that drunk. she says she’s gonna use it from now on. she kisses my cheek before we part. i was at school the last time someone did that.

i go home. i sit at my workplace. i answer to the email of the person that wants me to draw an artwork for them from a new phone i spent enormous amount of money on. for a second i wonder if i should still tell them i’m an imposter and my career will be over by the morning when i wake up sober.

i think about the ten glasses i broke, then let myself forget about them. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i draw.

29/02/2024

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for calling out my friend for writing RPF?

I'm in a friend group of about 5. We've known eachother for 5+ years but I'm closest with Sam because I've known them the longest. What Sam doesn't know is that when we first met I was browsing through their Twitter profile when I found a link to their AO3, it was full of RPF of two celebrities they were a fan of. At the time I thought it was kinda weird but said nothing because the fics were quite old at this point and we were both stupid teens, I didn't see it as a big deal. The AO3 stayed up (I am embarrassed to say I checked up on it occasionally out of morbid curiosity or what I don't know) but Sam never mentioned these fics around me and a few months later I saw that the account had either been deleted or renamed and all of the fics had been deleted too.

This was about seven years ago. Although Sam would still talk about these celebs they liked in our group chats (and still does) they never brought up shipping them seriously and only talked about RPF as a joke. I never brought it up all this time because I thought that they'd moved on from writing and the jokes were part of that.

However recently Sam started posting about a new thing involving IRL people. As we usually do in our friend group we were being supportive, asking them questions and letting them infodump ETC. But then one of our friends made an offhand joke about there being fic of this thing out there and Sam totally clammed up. It wasn't super noticeable but they suddenly started trying to change the subject away from it. We let it go but something didn't sit right with me, maybe because I knew about their history with this stuff, later that day I decide to check out the AO3 tag for this thing and lo and behold, there is an account that started posting roughly when Sam started talking about it. Not only that but I skimmed through some of the fics and they had very specific quirks of Sam's writing style and grammar, one of the fic titles even referenced a song by their favourite artist! This was 100% Sam's alt account.

Here's where I might be the asshole. TBQH I don't care about the RPF, I think it's weird and I would never write it myself but it's harmless. But recently Sam has been... kind of an asshole to our other friends about their own interests. We poke fun at each other all the time but recently Sam has been upsetting our friend Kai by 'jokingly' calling his current hyperfixation cringy a lot to the point Kai has privately told me he feels embarrassed infodumping about it any more. Kai is the youngest in the group and I feel really protective of him, this got me really angry. I told him I'd talk to Sam and I will but I feel like what I want to say to them is too petty and over the line.

So, WIBTA if I pointed out to Sam that they have no right calling other people's interests cringe considering what they write? They don't know I know about their AO3, it would definitely be embarrassing for them but that's the point if they think it's okay to embarrass their other friends like this.

[luffyvace]

BUGGY HEADCANONS

Wrote this on a whim when I remembered how much I liked this guy 😎

Buggy stans, assemble!!

I love buggy and I don’t talk about it enough

but like he needs more screen time

he has a decent amount I just wanna see him more :)

onto hcs!

buggy is a guy who wants to be confident but isn’t so he fakes it but you can tell

at first he’s just as phony towards you but as time goes on he opens up to you

you try to convince him he can be himself around everyone, especially his own crew he but still thinks he has to put on a show

its what he does best afterall!

buggy is subtly physical affectionate, for example, resting his hand on your waist

or putting a hand on your head

him being more flashy would be giving you a big kiss

he dips you and makes a “mmmmwah!” sound so you know it’s for show when in public

other times he does it to be playful

Another grand love gesture he does is sit you on his lap or shoulder

the man’s got some good muscle so he can hold you not matter your weight 💗

He likes make a game or show out of a lot of things you do for fun

he won’t do it if it bothers you

but he makes you laugh so much how can you not like it??

buggy doesn’t really like anyone seeing him without paint/makeup on

he gets up like really early, around 4-5 to do it

he doesn’t even want you to see very often

he says he doesn’t feel ‘buggy’ without it

ngl cabaji and mohji are wonder how buggy bagged you?? 🤨🤨

like your so fine (yes you are idc abt your opinion of yourself, You. Are. Fine.)

lowkey buggy be wondering too..😗

buggy always talks to you before bed.

he like, caresses your hair and whispers in your ear

he’s not tryna do it in a suggestive way

like in a way where he’s trying to comfort you or lull you to sleep

”how’s your day been lovely?”

“I wish I coulda been there to punch that sucker in the face. you did not deserve that.” /

“That’s good honey, why don’t you go ahead and get yourself some sleep?”

“What about me? Oh sugar don’t worry about me, you just go ahead and get some shuteye”

he kisses you atop your head as you two snuggle up and fall asleep

YOU GUYS ARE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE

just for the record it took a WHILE before buggy got that smooth 😊

like he had to get comfy in the relationship before he could even think to say any of that without cringing at himself

at first he was a lowkey stuttering, blushing mess

buggy enjoys if you help him wash his hair, especially the part where you massage his scalp 😍

he loves it,

it’s his favorite part

if you wanna do his makeup tho..😗

your gonna need the rest of the crew to pitch in on a plan to capture all of buggy’s separated limbs for that one 😋

courtesy of the straw hats for giving you that idea

he’ll grumble and frown as you wash away his old makeup and apply a fresh layer :)

he’s not mad at you tho

He’s just going to kill his men once your finished 🤗

buggy is a pirate captain so he likely has a ship cook

which be thankful for that..

becauseeee this man could probably never cook in a million years..

anyway buggy’s main love languages are physical touch

because it’s easy to display his love for you

and sometimes he would make a show out of it ;)

acts of service

because I mean he just oh so loves to serve his sweet darlin’!

he lives for it even!

he lives to bring people joy and laughter from his shows

why would that be any different, especially with you??

and gift giving too

this is mostly for if he has a more so materialistic/superficial s/o

who likes the luxurious life and being pampered

or he might just get you stuff to see that big ol’ smile of yours 💛

he may be a coward sometimes

but he’s always a man in the sense of being a gentleman

It happens a lot but he gets really upset when his crew ruins what was supposed to be a romantic date for you

like picture it: everything’s going well

your dressed up and feel confident and buggy is too

you both sit down at a private reservation to a restaurant he rented

he takes your hands and kisses them as you both giggle and stare at each other, with hearts practically in your eyes

then the waiter comes in :)

*sniff sniff* “what..can I get you?..” 😢

”CABAJI?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE WHERES THE WAITER??”

”well you said do anything possible to rent this place since we didn’t have enough money..*sniff* so we had to sell Richie” 😭😭😭

”ARE YOU SERIOUS?! SO WHERES THE STAFF??”

”well you said you were renting it out so they thought you needed it for a party or something..not for a date” *sniffles*

buggy was practically on FIRE 😂

all bro wanted was a romantic date

but instead he had to go search for a LION 🤦‍♀️

Well you spent the rest of your day tracking down the restaurant staff and richie

and trust me that was a hassle

Everyone was tired and ready to give up but cabaji kept begging and crying

eventually you found the restaurant staff!…..forming they’re own circus..with richie..who was also crying

you had to fight the staff to get richie back

and they were unexpectedly strong

yeah at the end of the day you and buggy were tired and went to be early

he keeps it in his notes never to ask his crew to help him with a date again..

LOL

another topic :)

i feel buggy would really like receiving massages

like back/shoulder ones specifically

rub some lotion in his back and that’s the ultimate way to calm a angry buggy 💗

he really appreciates when you do this

he’ll return the favor too

more likely to come in the form of gifts than another massage

but if you state that’s how you’d like to be repaid he wouldn’t mind at all

in fact he’d be quite good at giving massages

especially since he can simply separate a hand or too so he can continue to manage his crew 💖

buggy likes to put you in his acts

He teaches you everything he knows and is really proud of you when you impress the crowd or master a skill

he’s very supportive and patient in that sense

and when I say the word ‘patience’ is reserved for you I mean it

he prioritizes you a lot even if he can’t afford the L he’s about to take in order to impress you

refer back to the failed date where he couldn’t actually rent the restaurant

🤪

and don’t get me wrong buggy isn’t broke or anything

it’s just he gets expensive when pampering you

like buying you lavish resorts, cruises and any other thing you could possibly want

he thinks you higher than him, better.

And in a attempt to get you to stay he gives you reasons!

lavish dates! Comfort! Happiness and laughter!

a part of him thinks you’d leave if he didn’t do those things

that you wouldn’t love him for just him and that it must be for the show

later on in the relationship when he explains that’s how he feels and opens up to you

you’ll definitely reassure and correct him about your love for him

that you’d love him even if he was a bum, nobody and total loser

he tries not to tear up but he’s tearing up

btw if you don’t like being in the spotlight/stage

he doesn’t mind :)

will occasionally try to push you out of your shell—

“your a star baby! Your meant to shine!”

”people would love you! You should at least try!”

—but he won’t force you <3

he’ll give you a front row seat to his acts and look for you to see if your smiling/laughing during the big act/climax of the show

he definitely values your opinion way over other’s and a lot of the time even his own

even more so if your intelligent

he might ask you to at least be a volunteer for his acts even if you prefer to be in the crowd

and you accept sometimes, to make him happy 😊

or maybe you work backstage!

like on spotlight or curtains!

maybe you made the props, if your an artist you may have painted them!

He compliments you on it too!

”ya worked wonders with that spotlight baby!”

“Really all I did was move it around..😅”

“Still ya did great! You’ve got a great sense of timing!

Or it may go more like this:

“The props looked wonderful tonight hun!”

”really? Thanks! It took a while!”

”hard work shows! almost stood out more than your smilin’ face in the crowd, my dear!”

WHO KNEW I COULD WRITE FOR BUGGYYY 😍😍

I LOVE THE WAY THESE TURNED OUT!! SO PROUD OF MYSELF 💪💪

Hope you enjoyed the hcs :) I really liked this experimental style I did<3

[thearchercore]

As a film major undergrad and then entertainment business major post grad. The artistic elements of the F1 movie drive me insane AND THEN THE FINANCIAL AND MARKETING ASPECTS TOO!!

Apple is pretty notorious for just blowing huge amounts of money on shows and films that no one watches. So, it’s not even the $300 million budget that surprises me . It’s how little anyone seems to understand what this film is about or who it’s even for!! AND I CANT EVEN TELL WHERE THE MONEY FOR THIS FILM HAS GONE EXCEPT ON BRAD PITTS PAYCHECK BECAUSE THE TRAILERS COLOUR GRADING IS SO BAD IT CANT POSSIBLY BE ON POST

Maybe it was just a terrible trailer but the reason films like Rush and Le Mans 66 (Ford v Ferrari in some countries) is that they had something for both racing and non racing fans. 

Both based on true stories, with a compelling emotional core, recognisable actors (appeals to non racing fans mainly). Beautiful cinematic shots of cars going fast appeal to racing fans because those are views that you don’t usually get watching an actual race. 

the fixed cam shots of the drivers in the cars do nothing!! Because non racing fans will find them boring and racing fans would just rather watch a real race. Not Brad Pitt fucking about in an F2 car (which racing fans on Twitter have picked up on already!) The jet shots in top gun maverick (same director) worked because, hey people don’t usually see that sort of stuff, especially not from a pilots POV,  but we see fixed cam POV shots from car races all the time!! AND HOW ARE YOU DOING AUDIO FOR THAT??? is just going to be Brad Pitt breathing heavily the entire time??  

The exaggerated noises and car movements are fun to watch because F1 cars don’t move like that anymore! We don’t get to hear that classic WHOOOSHHH. hell even Michael manns terrible Ferrari movie was FUN because the story was interesting and the shots of the cars driving very fast around very scenic parts of Europe is entertaining. 

F1 (2025) is not based on a true story and the trailer was way more focused on the cringe “car for combat” line rather than what might actually make for an emotionally compelling story. An old racer thrown aside by the sport being dragged back to help an up and coming racer because that’s the only way he’s able to get back in a car. For the first time in his career He’s now the number 2 driver.

But it seems like we will get none of that and if we do the writing will be…uh bad!

ALSO THE TWITTER MARKETING!!! Who is that for!!! The only people who are interacting with that are already your target audience (F1 fans) they know the movie exists, they’ve already made up their minds about whether they are going to see it or not. And if non f1 fans see it they’d just be confused about it being a real f1 team and likely just ignore it. If this is your early marketing what on earth are you going to do next!! You can’t get Brad Pitt to do stunt drives for promotions cause he’ll probably die!! You are relying on name recognition to get non f1 fans to go the theatre and sign up to Apple TV for this and you didn’t even say FROM THE DIRECTOR OF TOP GUN MAVERICK in your trailer when that was the second highest grossing film of 2022 and had pretty much universal critical acclaim!!!! 

Brad Pitts old ass was also a terrible choice for this movie. Micheal Fassbender was right there!!! He’s literally done Le Mans, had an entire Porsche YouTube doc about his training and hypercar race attempts. And at 47, is a very believable age to play “retired driver but still young enough to come back” and he’d likely have been able to a lot of drives/stunts himself. 

I also dread to think how the real drivers are being included in this. I get wanting authenticity but these boys may look like models and actors but they are not!!! If anything I feel like it’d just ruin the emersion of the film because how jarring it’ll be to see real drivers, with their real names in a fictional movie!! 

This movie makes me crazy, it’s only been 1 trailed and some BTS info and I’m already like this. Watching the actual film ( which I do encourage people to pirate btw don’t give Brad Pitt money) is going to kill me 

i will be very surprised if they do pull it off because every move they've done so far was just objectively bad. naming it f1? awful. the ip will get lost in search engine tools because Real F1 will overshadow it. the trailer? no plot. brother is building a car for combat as if the FIA would allow anything like that. the closest we got was mclaren putting spikes on their car this year.

the trailer showed us zero plot, introduced zero stakes in the story. okay you're building a car, why? why do you want to win? what is the driving force of the story? the emotional core? why do i want to root for brad pitt's character if my driver is an actual character in the story??

so far the only people excited for it are real f1 fans that are going to see it to see max verstappen walk in the background in IMAX for 4 seconds. and those people take it as a joke, a hatewatch even.

they all know the f1 drivers can't act... like this whole thing seems so insane to me i cant believe how its an actual thing that's being filmed lol

and dont get me started on how the filming is taking two years (also bc of the strikes last year). two teams have completely different name. cars look different. suits look different...... like if they're fixing all in post god bless that team bc they'll be using more VFX than marvel

[genericpuff]

I finally, FINALLY found a shred of proof that Rachel depicted Persephone before 2017/Tumblr era LO.

Now does this confirm that Greek myth was, in fact, a big part of her childhood like she claims? Not entirely, considering she would have been the age I am now when she drew this, nearing her 30's. But it's more than what I've seen leading up to this where it's all been Tumblr-era-LO art. This seems to be purely for a zine that I unfortunately can't get my hands on a copy of due to it being very outdated and likely out of print (as it's a decade old now). Still, I'm tempted to reach out to the people who run the site to see if they still have any copies floating around, even if it's just a digital PDF version, otherwise, if anyone out there happens to have a copy of it (this is a LOOONG shot mind you) let me know because I'd love to see this zine in person and know what was going on in the development of it. More specifically, I wanna see if she included any sort of blurb about her choice to draw Persephone, if it was even an actual choice at all. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm deadset on Rachel having to "prove" herself, but a lot of her statements H x P seem to be quite vague for someone who calls them her "muses".

But also, besides the fact that it involves Rachel, this is the sort of media preservation that I'm really interested in! This Persephone is a far cry from the final version we'd later see in LO half a decade later, it's really interesting (although sad in some ways when we know why LO Persephone looks the way she does) to see the transition and changes in a tangible form. And again, it's really odd Rachel never mentions these works, like sure they weren't multi-million dollar hits, but they still showcase a history that pre-exists LO in a pretty monumental way, and some of these projects were incredibly collaborative with actual success behind them, including artists that went on to build their own followings and communities! It's so interesting and yet so bizarre that some of these projects are kept behind locked doors. I can get wanting to bury the more 'cringe' stuff like the medical fetish art, but why stuff like this that only stands to legitimize the claims that Rachel cares about Greek myth?

Unless... y'know, she doesn't want people to see how far her art style has fallen. But that's tinfoil for another day.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.

For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.

However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.

We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.

There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.

Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.

At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.

Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.

A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.

A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.

Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.

TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.

EDIT:

Actually wait I think I have more to say-

Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.

There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!

However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.

I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.

And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.

You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.

Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.

Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.

Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Who'd You Have to Blow to Get That Part?"

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

Tags: mild D/s elements, mild degradation, reference to past sexual encounters, slight daddy kink, lovers to enemies

Summary: Ransom won't let you leave the room until you agree to go out with him again.

You’ve been ignoring Ransom’s calls for a week when he finally corners you in your dressing room

“Well well well,” he simpers. “The Lyceum. You’re really making your way up from the chorus line, little girl.” You glare at him and he chuckles, doing a slow walk around your body, appraising you in a way that manages to feel both admiring and ridiculing at the same time. He plucks at the ribboned hoop of one of your panniers as he passes. “Well, la-dee-da,” he mocks. “What on earth is this? I think I like it.”

You swat at his retreating hand with a huff. “Who let you back here, Ransom?” 

“Oh didn’t you know I know everybody? The director’s an old friend. He knows I have an interest in … the theater. Said I could poke around backstage if I wanted.”

“Great. I’m sure he didn’t mean in my dressing room.”

“Your very own dressing room, by the way: how fancy.” He doesn’t look at you as he says it, instead sauntering along past the couch and then over to the dressing table, feeling free to snoop around. You cringe when his fingers drag across the vanity top and land on the script you’ve left lying there. He picks it up and starts flipping through its pages. “Hmm …”

You fluster at the idea of him seeing all the notes you’ve scribbled in the margins. “Do you mind not touching my stuff?” you gripe. “Ugh.” Looking around for your robe, you spot it draped over the back of the dressing chair but realize that it won’t stretch around when you’re wearing the panniers. You huff and try to plant your hands on your hips assertively—a motion that is likewise hindered. You settle for gripping the sides of your whalebone-stiffened waist. “I don’t have time for this. Why are you here?”

“You’re one of the leads,” Ransom says, feigning impressed as he waves the packet of papers in the air. “So Daddy finally bought you a speaking part, huh?”

You feel your cheeks heat, hating him with every fiber of your being. “No,” you grit, hurrying over to snatch the script from his hands and set it back on the table. “I got this part myself, you insufferable piece of shit.”

“Been practicing those blowjob skills, then?”

Your jaw works as you fight not to react. “Why are you here?”

“I tried calling,” he says. “But you’re surprisingly hard to get a hold of these days.”

“Ever consider that I lost your number?”

“Mmm, I don’t think that’s it.” He smirks and leans in close enough that you can smell his cologne, can see every detail of that stupid-pretty face, the hair that’s gelled and combed to perfection. He looks good, just like he always does, which only makes you hate him more. “I haven’t seen you twirling in your usual circles, bunny,” purrs. "Not since we parted ways. What’s it been now, three months?”

“Five,” you say tightly. “Though who’s counting?”

“Clearly not you,” he teases, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll admit I’ve hardly thought of you at all, since then, but …” He’s wearing a camel-colored coat and cashmere scarf, and he reaches past said coat’s lapel to produce a single, long-stemmed rose, presenting it to you with an earnest pout. “I heard about the role. Thought I’d stop by and congratulate you, see how you’re doing.” He lets his gaze drag over your half-dressed form again, eyeing you up appreciatively. “I still think about you, you know.”

“I thought you’d hardly thought about me at all."

He looks surprised for a second, before he’s chuckling at you again with that trademark blend of affection and condescension that you wish you hated more than you do. “Oh, bunny,” he coos, nudging your chin with the rose’s fragrant bloom. “You pay attention to what I say. I always liked that about you. That’s just how you are, isn’t it? So attentive, such a good girl.” You color mightily at that, too flustered to think of a waspish response like you want to. He sees this and smirks, dragging the rose’s velvet petals over your lips and humming in satisfaction when you hastily snatch it from his hand. “There we go,” he praises softly. “Pretty flower for a pretty girl. Though I worry how you’re doing when you don’t turn up in public for months on end.”

You force a prim smile. “That’s sweet, but I don’t need you to worry about me, or bring me gifts.” You turn around and stick the rose into a nearby vase, which already has a number of similar blossoms in it. Ransom’s is the biggest and freshest, but you rearrange it into the middle of the pack so that it doesn’t stand out as much. “And I’m doing just fine, if you really want to know.”

“Are you, though?” he presses. He steps closer, close enough that the frame of the panniers presses against his pants, and it’s easy for him to reach up and finger the strap of your stays. “I seem to remember you being quite the social butterfly.”

“Yep. That’s me.”

“You’ve missed the last several big events of the season, and I know you well enough to know that it’s not like you to play the shut-in.” He traces the strap from your shoulder, down to the top of the busk. You see his blond eyelashes lower onto his smug fucking cheeks as he shamelessly leers at the swell of your breasts, his fingers hovering just over the skin. “Who’re you supposed to be?” he asks. “Marie Antoinette?”

You scoff and push past him. “Unlike you, I get busy. I actually work for a living. And yes, that sometimes means that frivolous parties aren’t my number one engagement. So if you’ll excuse me.” You’re supposed to be over in wardrobe, getting fitted for your costumes. Danielle is probably already waiting for you. But Ransom blocks the door when you try to leave, and he does nothing to disguise the way he looks at your body when you stand back to regard him with another huff. “Ransom, move.”

“You should wear corsets more often,” he drawls, ignoring your protests entirely. “It actually makes your waist look tiny.”

You glare at him and try to move around him to grab the door handle, but he leans back against it so that you can’t pull it open. He grins, eyes raking over you from head to toe. You fight not to squirm, feeling more ridiculous than anything else, decked out as you are in your eighteenth century reproduction undergarments. You sigh and stand back, frustrated at how goddamn entitled he is. “What do you want?” you ask, knowing that he wouldn’t be here bugging you right now if he didn’t want something. 

“I want to give us another try,” he says. 

You wait for the punchline, or for him to crack a mean smile and laugh at how gullible you are, but neither happens and you’re left standing there blinking at him like a dummy, heart in your throat. “What?” 

“You heard me.” He pushes off from the door and stares you down as he steps up close. He cups your face in a palm that’s soft from never having seen a day of work in its life. You have to fight not to press your cheek into it, and of course he notices, the overconfident prick. “I think we called things off too soon,” he murmurs. “Don’t you?”

“‘We’? You’re the one who ended it.”

He frowns thoughtfully. “Hhhm, did I though?”

“Yes.”

“Ehh, I don’t know if I remember it that way.”

You purse your lips. “I said I wanted to be exclusive, and you called me clingy.”

“Well that’s hardly ‘ending’ things …”

You scoff. “You said my pussy wasn’t ‘anything to write home about’ and left me at the restaurant.”

“Hmm. Well … maybe I was too hasty.”

“Yeah, right. ‘Hasty’.” More like genetically predisposed to assholery, you think.

“Hey, I mean it.” He grabs you when you try to move around him, holding you still by your upper arms.

“Let me go.”

“Maybe I never gave things between us a real chance, bunny” he says, trying to ply you with his words and sheer proximity. “That’s what I’ve been thinking these past months. That I let you go too soon, didn’t think things through. That I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“More like your dick,” you mutter, but he ignores you. 

“After all, we had good times together, didn’t we? And you always look amazing on my arm, and the sex was soo …” he trails off, letting his fingers trace your skin. His mouth twitches when he notices your breathing picking up, your chest heaving visibly against the front of the stays. “Come on, princess. Just think about it,” he coaxes, leaning in to whisper against your ear. “You and I fit so well together. Don’t you remember how it was?”

You shiver instinctively, body reacting to the words he’s murmuring so intimately against you, to the way he’s touching you like he owns you. “Ransom,” you breathe. “I don’t—”

“I miss you, you know. I do. In my life, in my bed. I don’t like waking up alone.”

You ignore the flutter in your belly at hearing him admit that, and force yourself to shrug his hands away. “Well that would be your problem, not mine,” you say. He’s not good for you, and letting him bust in like this and insinuate himself back into your life will only lead to disappointment at best, heartbreak at worst. “Excuse me,” you grit when he walks backwards to block the door again. So fucking entitled. “Seriously, Ransom. I have somewhere to be!”

“I don’t really care. We’re not finished here,” he growls, eyes losing their charming sheen. “You can leave when I’m done talking to you.”

Your core clenches at those domineering words, and you have to square your jaw before you can bring yourself to insist, “Ransom, get out of the way. I’m warning you …”

“No, I’m warning you,” he says darkly, grabbing your arm and yanking you in hard against him. You gasp and catch yourself with a hand against his chest, but he keeps you off balance as his other arm scoops in behind you and holds you tight to him by your lower back. “Mmm, I like this,” he purrs, fingers finding the laces of your stays and grabbing onto them. He grabs you by the back of your neck with one hand while he tugs at the laces with the other. “Makes a nice handle. Good for moving you where I want you.”

“Get your hands off me.”

He tugs the laces again, jostling you forcefully. “Thought you liked it when I handle you.”

“What I’d like is for you to let me go,” you grit. 

But he only narrows his eyes and sticks his face closer in yours. When he speaks, his breath fans out warm against your lips. “You’re confused, bunny. I should bend you over that vanity and remind you just how much you like it.”

To your shame, his manhandling and his domineering words turn you on, and you know he can tell—he can always tell what he does to you. That’s part of what makes him so infuriating, and so dangerous. “Let go of me,” you say lowly, surprised (and disappointed) when he actually listens, his hands releasing you so suddenly that you stumble back a step in your heels. His eyes bore into you slyly as you huff and right yourself. “What is your problem?!” you fume at him. 

“Come with me to the Governor’s Ball,” he demands, confident and cocky as always, as if the past few minutes and your numerous refusals haven’t even happened. “You have an invitation, I presume?”

You glower at him. “Of course I do, you twat.” Given that your father is the Governor, it’d be odd indeed if you didn’t have an invite. “Awful presumptuous of you that I don’t have plans to go with somebody else,” you snap. “After the way you treated me? I wouldn’t take you as my date to a dive bar.”

He chuckles, and it’s in that low, self-assured way that drives you absolutely bonkers and makes you feel like a “pick me” girl all at the same time. “Oh, bunny. You think I don’t know you better than that?”

You shoulder your way around him to yank open the door. “You don’t know me at all, jerk.” 

You inhale sharply when his hand clamps around your wrist and he shoves into you from behind suddenly, pressing you up against the door and slamming it shut with your combined bodyweight. “I know you better than any man alive, princess,” he hisses, grinding his hips against your ass and kissing your cheekbone in gentle counterpoint when you gasp at his audacity. “Shhh shsh,” he hushes. “Don’t worry, now. You’ll have an excellent time, I promise. Now, you go get fitted for your little costume, and I’ll send a car to pick you up Saturday evening. Say nine o’clock?”

You huff, flustered by what an utterly presumptuous asshole he is (and by the way your cunt is clenching on nothing, being pressed up against a surface full-body by him like this). “You know what your problem is, Ransom?”

He drags his nose across your cheek with a chuckle. “What’s that, bunny?”

You can’t get as much leverage as you’d like, pressed up against the door the way you are, but you do your best and jab back into his solar plexus. And his shocked, breathless grunt is a satisfying indicator that your elbow has met its mark. You turn around and take his face between your hands to peck a kiss of your own to his cheek. “It’s that people’ve been paid to make you think you’re better than you are your whole life,” you whisper sweetly. You kiss his cheek and then let him go, leaving the room before he can regain his breath.

Masterlist

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[ryuichirou]

Replies

More repliessssss

Mostly talking about Rook, RookVil, Ortho and some other stuff (i.e. Jade’s eel penis).

Anonymous asked:

Based on your recent Riddle x Mob comic, I like to think it’s the gang in the beach Stich event. Azul, Jack, Ace AND Floyd?? Poor, poor Riddle, on the deserted island…hehe

The gang from that comic is actually just Heartslabyul students, but you are right: the Stitch event team absolutely should do something like this to Riddle. He is surrounded by the worst boys for a reason!

(Just in case: we haven’t seen this event yet, so I can’t comment on it yet)

Anonymous asked:

I hate that I’m terribly attracted to Rook. Especially crazy Rook. I want him to rip my hair out and eat it and set me on fire.

Be careful what you wish for, Anon, Rook’s always listening…

Anonymous asked:

Completely random, but do you think Rook would rather lock Vil up in a nice tower to keep him all nice and pretty and gorgeous?

Or would he rather set him out into the woods so Rook could hunt him down slowly?

Why not both? I think Rook would switch things around every now and then…

He is possessive enough to want to keep Vil all for himself, but at the same time, what is Vil’s beauty if it’s locked up like he is a pretty bird? No, the bird has to be free for its beauty to shine, or at least have some hope for freedom that wouldn’t let the fire in Vil’s eyes go out. Having him locked up in a nice tower would be great, and Rook would play around with this idea, but at the same time he would feel like chasing Vil and hunting him down is the best way to experience the beauty of Vil’s body and spirit.

He has a lot of interesting ideas in his sick little head lol

Anonymous asked:

I am officially going to call myself the "Snow Anon"

Since I my previous asks was about the Merman sex and the mating marking claiming ones ^^

So now I need to express my love for Jade and ask about any NSFW head canons I need to know the size and color of "it" for *research* purposes 👀

And also

I need to know

Would any of the characters be into any sort of roleplay when getting down and nasty ✨

You know this is an old ask because this is the first time the Snow Anon mentions their nickname… I am so sorry, Snow Anon! This is the previous ask, it’s been a while… It’s time to talk about the Merman sex and Jade Leech specifically again!

But I’ll actually start with the second half of your ask. I thought I’d write the list of characters like I always do, but as I’m thinking about it I’m realising that there aren’t really a lot of people in the cast that feel like they would roleplay… I might talk about this topic again in the future, but for now!

The ones who definitely enjoy roleplay when getting down and nasty are Vil, Rook and Ortho, but especially Ortho. Vil and Rook used to be more actively into this during their first year, there was a period when they do it almost every single time. Sometimes it would be something very dramatic and well thought-out, sometimes it would be something on a smaller scale, like a horny dialogue that doesn’t really have anything to do with reality. Rook is so incredibly happy that he got to make love to Vil in so many “universes” and so many scenarios~

I also like to think that there were times when Vil would get so invested in the improv part that he would actually forget about sex (why would his character want to suck this man’s dick now? doesn’t make sense, they have to have some kind of development or the impact isn’t there)…

But anyways, Ortho is also a little freak! He is so incredibly excited about being able to play all kinds of scenarios he has seen in movies, anime and hentai, and nothing will stop him. He loves starting a roleplay randomly, just to see if his partner would play along. Vil plays along sometimes, but also Idia is better at it than one would think!

In general, Idia considers any kind of sexual roleplay to be cringe, but it’s not impossible to get him somewhat invested in it. Ortho has done it before, and he will force Idia to do it again. Niisan is good at it, he shouldn’t be so shy!

Alright, other than these four… Ruggie would be willing for money but bad at it, Cater would enjoy it a lot actually, Lilia would be surprisingly great at it too. Neige? Maybe Neige would also be good at it… And Fellow too, hehe.

Bow let’s talk about the most important topic. To be completely honest, every time I draw the eel peen it looks different, but I feel like this Jade/Idia drawing had our ultimate eel peen… so I’ll share some thoughts about how I think it would work~

The length and the shape differ from merman to merman, but with these two particular eels, it’s 30-40 cm long. It will get longer though because they are not done growing yet. When it isn’t erect, it’s hidden inside their crotch area, which is normally completely flat.

It’s mostly white and has some greenish spots; it also isn’t fluorescent like the rest of their bodies, which means that one might spot an eel in the darkness of water, but the erect penis is always a surprise!

Eels are very slippery in general, but their penis produces even more slick. It’s incredibly slippery and almost impossible to hold in hand, which makes the owners of the peen the only ones who could control its placement and direction…

There are a lot of muscle inside the penis that makes it possible for it to not only slide, but also crawl inside the hole + move inside it in a lot of ways. Jade especially loves to move his penis in a 90 degree angle as much as possible once it’s inside the hole because it always makes his lover squirm and cry.

Both Jade and Floyd love to “hug” their lovers with their tail and spin when they have sex. Jade doesn’t spin as fast as Floyd does, but he also starts spinning very suddenly when his lover expects it the least…

There are “fins” on the penis that makes it look like a mini-eel, but those aren’t really fins. They add extra stimulation though + act like little hooks to make sure that the penis won’t slip out of the hole earlier than needed. When Jade does it, it’s a bit more painful than when Floyd does it.

The eel cum is very potent and thick. It might even become thicker once it’s all collected inside the body. It’s still liquid though, so once it’s out of the body (and the body is out of the water), it’ll fall and break into a huge puddle a little bit heavier than water, but then it’ll rise up if it’s not far from surface, otherwise it just dissolves before that.

[obsessive-ego]

Pest of the west

Toonjuice x reader

Warning cringe

Gender neutral pronouns, pregnancy is mentioned once, also reader is forced to wear a dress

A shameless episode rewrite, swapping lydia for y/n and making it into a reader insert, I can not stress this enough, I just rewrote the episode to fit what I wanted, If this goes over well i might do more episode rewrites

Toonjuice takes you to the old west to goof off, and shit gets bad when an out law named bully the crud falls in love with you

"Come to the netherworld he said, it'll be fun he said, we'll go to the old west, you could use a good time, god" you grumbled to yourself, here you were handcuffed, wearing the ugliest, largest wedding dress you've ever seen in your life, hell, the size of the dress was the second reason stopping you from running from this cruel fate, the first being the groom. Not only were you handcuffed, your soon to be husband had a vice grip on your arm, a giant bull of a monster, Bully the Crud, you had no idea why this bastard wanted you, or why beetlejuice, scared out of his wits, ditched you to fend for yourself, all you knew was that you were screwed.

...

Finally, friday, it's been a long, rough work week. Between overtime, unreliable coworkers, and your bastard of a boss using you as a punching bag, you were beat.

Home again, you kick off your shoes, toss your bag and coat on the couch, and make the mental note to tidy up later. More importantly, you make your way to your bedroom, eager for the best part of the work day, changing out of your work clothes.

Passing the full-length mirror in your room, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the reflection wasn't yours.

"Hey BJ" you say casually, not bothering to look his way as you dig around your dresser for something more comfortable.

"It's about time you finally came around, babes,"

"Yeah, overtime again," you sigh

"Gross"

"Tell me about mister 'I don't have a job.'" You laugh, turning to the mirror to see that beetlejuice was gone.

"Huh," you mumble, scooping up your change of clothes. "Guess he had things to do?" You mumble.

Just then, you jump as the television in your bedroom turns on, loud static noises buzz from the speakers before an image settles on screen.

"Beetlejuice?"

Your television lights up showing a desert like scenery, with cactus, wired fences, cow skulls, and there was beetlejuice, dressed in cowboy attire

"That's my name, and cow poking is my game,Are you tired of the same old same old boring modern breather lifestyle?"

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Are ya in desperate need for a change of pace? Then mosey on down to the netherworld's wild west rude ranch, conveniently located in tombstone scareizona"

"There's a wild west in the netherworld? Like cowboys and stuff?" The ghoul had your full attention now, maybe sometime goofing off in the netherworld could do you some good, and the wild west would seem like something new and fun.

"Cowboys, cowghouls, just spout those magic b words, and we'll be ghost town bound"

what's the worst that could happen?

"Beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!" You shout in a hurry, and in a flash you were gone, your change of clothes now abandoned on the floor where you once stood.

...

And there you were in the scenery you saw on your television, sand, cactus, cow skulls, all the cliches of an old west movie. Your work clothes now replaced with more appropriate attire, a black cowboy hat, with a matching vest, a soft blue coloured puffy sleeved shirt, with a dusty blue neckerchief, black pants, with a big skull shaped belt, and of course some big black boots, you look liked you walked out of freddy pharkas frontier pharmacist, but appreciated the wardrobe change, it was always so fun when your clothes changed when beetlejuice dragged you into the netherworld, it was something you grew to look forward to with each trip. Your adoration for the new look was short-lived as you glanced around, unable to locate your friend.

"Beetlejuice?"

Did he ditch you?

"Oh bury me~ on the lone prairie~"

The ground next to you shakes before beetlejuice's head pops up from the dirt and unearths the rest of himself. "Welcome to the netherwest babes! I'm your ghost host with the most, should you have any questions, I'll be sure awnser them, as obscurely as possible" the ghoul proudly proclaims as he struts away from the grave he pulled himself out of.

"So this is the netherwest, it looks fun"

"Of course, babes, it has everything an old west motife should have, sun, sand, more cliches, then you can shake a stick at," the ghost hollers, shaking a stick at a cow skull

"Sounds great, beej," you chuckle, grabbing his arm, eager to see the sights, and get your mind off your work week.

"And dont you worry toots, if you're fretting on being bush wacked by bad guys, you're fretting for nothing"

"Oh? You some kind of old West hero?" You chucke, amused by his sudden confidence.

"You kidding, babes? Nobody messes with the pest of the west, I'll show ya what I mean later, " he cackles leading you into town

"Pest is right" you smile

...

The two of you were having a blast, beetlejuice eagerly showing you the sights, dragging you around town, you both were laughing and carrying on, you really needed this after such a shitty work week, you could always rely on beetlejuice to change your mood for the better.

It was all fun and games until your ghost, with the most, got kicked by a horse into a trough of dirty water. You were trying not to laugh at him as you helped him out.

"This has got to be the closest thing I've taken ta a bath in months," he grumbled

"It's surely an improvement." You laugh, hoisting your friend out of the water,

"Excuse me" an unfamiliar voice interrupts the two of you "allow me to introduce myself" standing in front of you was a man shaped like a dartboard and a tiny purple guy who's shirt was way too long for him.

"Howdy there stranger, The name's casualty, hop along casualty, I'm the mayor of this here tombstone and this is fester, we all in the market for a new sheriff, know anybody who'd be intrested in such a noble and HIGH paying job?"

"What-" was all you managed to get out before beetlejuice perked up

"DO I? Look no further, I am the slob for the job!" Beetlejuice lunges forward, eager to shake the mayor's hand before you pull him back

"Uh, beej? You a law man? Do you even know any laws?"

"Dont rob people"

"Oof, that's on me, I set the bar too low, but weren't we just here to have fun? And besides sheriff? Ya know, that's a lot of hard work, " the ghoul's one weakness. Maybe the mentioning of work would be enough for him to decline, and the two of you could go back to goofing off.

"WORK?! YUCK!" Beetlejuice shouts, you smile, there's the ghost you know and love more than you're willing to admit.

"Maybe the breather is right. Maybe the job would be too much for this tender foot to handle," casualty loudly proclaims as he and his sidekick walk away

"TENDER FOOT!?"

Great, now they had him. Beetlejuice was always a sucker for reverse psychology.

"Can a tender foot do this?" Beetlejuice proceeds to 'show off' his so-called slime shooting skills, loudly proclaiming he could shoot his hat before it touched the ground.

The hat went up into the air and beetlejuice went trigger happy, the ghost hit everything BUT the hat, you were smart enough to take cover, the ghost proved in a matter of seconds slime shooting was something he had to cross out on his resume, as he proceeded to cover the towns folk in slime.

But yet the mayor was still eager to hire him.

"Beetlejuice, come on, seriously? you're the worst guy for the job, you lie, cheat, steal, hell you're wanted in 5 different states, and 6 provinces, plus we just got here, why would anyone want you to be sheriff? There's obviously a catch, think about it, " you pleaded with him, your words fell of deaf ears, beetlejuice was too excited with all the glory that came with his new title.

"Beetlejuice, I wouldn't do this if I were you -" You try again only to be shoved aside by the mayor, who was more than ready to slap that star shaped badge on Beetlejuice's chest.

"Congratulations, son, you're exactly what we're looking for!"

"This is a joke, right?" You groaned with arm crossed annoyed over the whole situation.

The mayor dragged Beetlejuice to the group of townsfolk who gathered in the street to see what all the commotion was about.

"Attention, yall, I'd like ya to meet our new sheriff"

The crowd cheered, and Beetlejuice drank in all the attention and praise being showered upon him, while you just stood there trying to put two and two together.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, bully the crud will be here at high noon," the mayor starts

"And he's gonna do terrible, horrible things to you -" Fester continues

"Great," you grumble, there it was, so much for a fun time.

A bell gong rings through the town, and in a matter of seconds the towns folk were gone, leaving only you and Beetlejuice standing in the middle of the street, you pull your phone out of your pocket, though you had no service, it still worked like a clock, time in the netherworld worked differently, though it was evening when you left, it was day time when you arrived, your phone always acted accordingly, it was weird, and you didnt understand it, but you werent complaining.

"Noon," you say in a whisper, your stomach now turning with dread. What the hell did beetlejuice just sign up for?

The ground rumbles, you grab the ghoul's arm out of nervousness, and in a sandstorm cloud of dust a pig pulled carriage charges into tombstone, making a hasty hault in front of the two of you. The door swings open, and there stands what you can only assume is bully the crud, a big bull of a man, snarling and staring down the two of you.

"I'm looking for trouble," he growls

Beetlejuice snorts "never met 'em, you know anyone by that name babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge. You shake your head

"That ain't what I ment, that was a figure of speech! Which one of the two of you are the sheriff?!"

You clamp your mouth shut, you werent gonna rat out your friend or take the blame. Beetlejuice did the same.

Bully huffs through his nose before grabbing you by your neckerchief

"You better spill -" in the rough movement of grabbing you, your hat got knocked off, your eyes no longer hidden in shadow.

"You better, better- why, arent you a pretty little thing" bully sets you down, and hands you your hat "why you ring my bell little meadow muffin, hows 'bout you give ol'bully a kiss" you cringe at his change in mood and utter out a "what?" More confused than anything else, not to mention disgusted.

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you away, a tad angry over how this overgrown hamburger was now hitting on you, HIS best friend.

"I'm the sheriff round these parts, and this here is my deputy." The ghoul snatches your hat from your hands and roughly puts it back on your head.

"I never agreed to that," you grumble, adjusting your hat.

"YOU'RE THE NEW SHERIFF?!" the bull bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter

"And who might you be?" Beetlejuice puffed out his chest, squaring up to the monster

"I'm bully the crud, the meanest ombre that ever licked a law man," he shouted

"Ya know you look a lot bigger than your eight by tens. Were you sick on picture day?" Beetlejuice laughs, pulling a photo from his pocket

"Enough small talk, I came to run you outta town, and that's what I aim ta do." The bully snorts

"Alright, bully, make your move," beetlejuice snorts reaching for his slime shooter

In a matter of second, the monster grabs beetlejuice with one hand, tightly wrapped about his gut, squeezing the afterlife out of him

"Nice move" beetlejuice croaks

"Wait!" You shout, dead or not, that's got to hurt

Bully drops Beetlejuice, his attention now on you

"Sweet little meadow muffin, ya change your tune about giving ol' bully that kiss?" He coos, quickly making his way in front of you and grabbing your hands. His voice was much less harsh when addressing you. It was nauseating.

"Ugh," you flinch. You'd prefer the same hostility he's shown towards beetlejuice over this 'sweet' side in a heartbeat.

As disgusted as you were, this little exchange, it was enough of a distraction to get beetlejuice back on his feet.

In a flash your ghost host with the most pulls you away from the Bull's grasp

"Back off bovine breath," he snorts, jabbing bully in his chest. "I hope you dont mind me asking, but what's your BEEF with this town anyway? Cuz we'd kinda like ya to just MOO-ve along" with each cow related joke beetlejuice pushed bully back away from you, you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh, despite Beetlejuice's confidence, you werent too sure how dangerous this guy really was, and besides, beej was doing enough laughing for the both of you.

You remained silent watching beetlejuice roll on the floor laughing at his own jokes, that is until Bully has had enough of the ghoul's shenanigans and snaps and screams.

"NOBODY MAKES A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF BULLY THE CRUD!"

Beetlejuice hops back to his feet and laughs

"Beej, I think you should get serious here," you urge. Yes, you know beetlejuice was a powerful ghost, but he was also a dumbass.

He snorts, "Come on, babes, you worry too much. This over sized hamburger is all bark and no bite, ya know what I mean?" Beetlejuice gives you a half-hearted shrug, turning away from Bully.

Of course, Beetlejuice wasn't as freaked out as you were, he wasnt the one getting kissy faces from a cow.

"Relax, babes, remember what I told ya earlier? Nobody messes with the pest of the west-!?" Beetlejuice freezes. While he spent his time ignoring bully and flapping his gums at you, the bull took his opportunity and painted a large yellow stripe on Beetlejuice's back.

"THE SHERIFF GOT A YELLOW STREAK DOWN HIS BACK!" A voice screams

were the towns folk watching this whole mess?

"You calling me a chicken?!" Beetlejuice screams back

"Boo" bully leans into him and whispers in Beetlejuice's ear

And that was all it took to turn your friend into a giant yellow chicken

Beetlejuice scrambled and clucked away from bully, hopping on the nearest horse and riding out of town.

"Fuck" was all you could say watching your friend ride out of view, you were now screwed.

You were pulled from the spot and hoisted up into bully's arms

"Now that I ran sheriff stinko out of town, let's have us a wedding♡"

"...I just have one question for you"

"Well sure there honey"

"What's the capital on Thailand?"

"What?"

"Its Bangkok!" You shout slamming the heel of your boot into bully's crotch.

Bully drops you and screams. You quickly scramble away, thankful that stupid joke worked.

Your freedom was shortly lived, you didnt get far, no building would let you in, citizens too frightened to what Bully might do to them if they were caught harboring someone he wanted, which was fair in a sense.

Bully pulls you back into his arms and laughs. "You should be more careful there, my little meadow muffin, you dont wanna damage the family jewels, we're gonna need em"

Beetlejuice wherever you are please come back.

...

As you were being prepared/forced to marry a literal monster, Beetlejuice was in the middle of the desert not too worried about you, back to his old abnormal self, arguing with a horse.

"So your not gonna head back to tombstone? What about your friend?"

"Y/n? They're fine, they're the toughest living thing I've ever had the privilege to scare" he waves his horse off, despite all the teasing the ghoul gave you he held a very high opinion of you and just assumes you could take on bully no problem. "They could take on a whole herd of Bully the cruds, no sweat"

...

"Y/n's sure taking their sweet time, I'm beginning to worry" Beetlejuice sighs

"I told ya, bully the crud is one tough side of beef. Do you have any idea what's gonna happen to your little friend if you dont run him outta town?" The horse nags.

Beetlejuice snorts, "Yeah, like I can see the future -" in a flash, Beetlejuice's cowboy attire was replaced with to resemble swami, with a big crystal ball nestled in his lap.

The ghoul snorts out a laugh

"Now let's see if I can get a clear picture on this thing" beetlejuice focuses on the orb and what he sees makes his stomach turn, not only did you fail on rescuing yourself from his mess, you were forced into marriage with that monster, your living status was now gone, you were barefoot and pregnant in a kitchen, and all because of him.

"Y/N! SAY IT AIN'T SO! Y/N AND BULLY ARE GONNA GET HITCHED!"

...

So here you were, hand cuffed, now gagged, in the ugliest puffy dress you ever seen, standing before a minister with you future husband who had a vice grip on you and no way out, you were trapped, you couldnt run, you could barely speak, every objection from your mouth was quickly muffled by Bullys sweaty hands to the point the bull gagged you to make things easier for this mess of a ceremony, if you could manage a few words you would have said the B word 3 times before this got this far. Your time was running out, and your hopes of beetlejuice coming to save you were getting slimmer by the second.

"We are gathered here today to join these two in matrimony, be there any man, or beast" the father gesturing to the side of the church filled with what you could only assume is  Bullys extended family. "Who feels that this here wedding should not take place, let them hold up their hand, or hove, or forever hold their cud," the minister laughs nervously

This was it. You were doomed, there was nothing you could do, you stood there staring forward, utterly lost in despair.

"GET ON WITH IT!" Bully bellows tugging you in closer. This had to be a nightmare, right? Any second your alarm would go off, right? Waking you from this disaster, right?

"That's it! The only thing left to say is, I now pronounce you cow and-!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PARSON! I OBJECT!"

You whip your head around, knowing that voice anywhere, there he was, your knight in stinking armor, standing at the entrance of the hall, rushing towards you.

"This lil' thing is spoken for" beej spats before pulling you away from Bully, with a snap of the ghoul's fingers your restraints vanish, with your new found freedom you were quick to embrace him, silently thanking the stars he came back in the nic of time.

"How dare you try and marry MY fiance!"

"Your what?" You mumble

"Your fiance?! They ain't got a ring to prove that!"

"Oh?~" Beetlejuice grabs your wrist and shoves your hand in Bully's face, "then what's this?" Placed upon your middle finger was a very large, very tacky, bright green jewel on a black and white striped band, a ring that sure wasn't there 2 minutes ago.

"I-?!" The bully stutters

"You didn't notice? were you too busy forcing my little cockroach into this mess you couldnt be asked to see if they've been already spoken for, I bet you wouldnt listen to a word they said" each word the ghoul spoke he would jab the bull in the chest, he was really laying on the country twang, you couldnt help bit crack a smile knowing the danger of you being married to that monster was gone, not to mention Beetlejuice saying you were his fiance, it was cute and it made your heart skip a beat.

This mirth was short-lived, though, as Bully had had enough of Beetlejuice's shenanigans, with a snarl and a bellowing howl.

"NOBODY CUTS OFF MY NUPTIALS  AND GETS AWAY WITH! IT'S TIME WE SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Yeah"

"AND THAT MEANS ONLY ONE THING"

"Name it"

"SLIMESHOOTERS AT 60 PACES"

"YOU GOT IT!"

Bully stomps out of the church to get ready for the dual

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you aside

"Alright babes, let's get out of here, just say those magic b words, and we can amscray," he whispers to you.

"We can't"

"right- WHAT?! WHY?! - I mean, why? Cat got your tongue? Suddenly, you lost your voice? Or, oh no, dont tell me ya changed your mind and ACTUALLY WANT TO MARRY THAT CHUMP??" The ghoul grabs you shoulders and shakes you as if to knock some sense into you.

You brush his hands away "no, Beetlejuice, we cant leave, if we leave Bully is gonna destroy this town and everyone in it, I can't live with that on my shoulders" despite the fact that you hung around with a professional con man, you yourself were honest and kind, and to be the cause of such misery, you could never forgive yourself.

"Like I'm gonna lose sleep over that-" he grumbles

"Please beetlejuice, I'm asking you as a friend, and after you ditching me, I think you owe me" you gesture to the awful dress you were forced in, not to mention how if he was seconds late you could have been hitched to a literal monster.

"Fine" he grumbles

"Besides you're dead, what do you have to lose?"

Beetlejuice groans

"Also, can I ask one more thing of you, Beej? Can you get me out of this dress?" You tug at the tooling. You could barely move, and the fabric was quite itchy.

"Y/n! In front of so many people, and in a church! Well, if you insist, " the ghoul gingerly reaches for the zipper on your dress before you swat his hand away, clearly embarrassed

"I ment with magic." You sigh, not really in the mood for games

"Right, I knew that, just messing with ya," he chuckles sheepishly. With another snap, you were back in your cowboy attire

"Thank you, now, now what about bully?" You sneer

"Sit tight, babes, Bully's got a date with the sheriff"

"No, we can beat him together." You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm, still a little sore he left you behind.

...

Like any other western movie cliche, beetlejuice and bully square off in the center of town

"Please, for the love of god cheat," you grumble, watching this soon to be mess from the sidelines.

"That would be ideal, your friend there couldn't hit the ground with his hat," the mayor buts in to your mutterings

"But I think I have something dumb enough it might just work -" you muse before running off.

"This is it bully. It's time to separate the men from the bulls. There's no tomorrow. It's now or never, the cheese stands alone!"

"Quit stalling and draw!" Bully sneers, absolutely fed up with Beetlejuice's nonsense.

"Draw? I'm a little rusty, but I'll give it a go. " Beetlejuice snorts swapping his cowboy hat for a beret, pulling a canvas and easel out of nowhere

"Now I'm gonna need ya to keep that pose for the next few hours -"

Bully screams in frustration, ripping the canvas away from Beej and slamming it over head

Beetlejuice unfazed snorts. "I really get into my work"

"I'm gonna give you one last chance to draw beetlejerk, or else I'm gonna start without ya, NOW DRAW!"

Beetlejuice swallows the lump in his throat "I guess this is it, theres no turning back now"

"Hold it!"

"Y/n!" Beetlejuice shouts, glad to see you

"Hey Bully I've change my mind about marrying you!" You shout

"WHAT!? Babes have you lost your mind?!"

"You have?! Oh honey I'd knew youd come around♡"

You run into the center of the action and with Bully distracted, you toss beetlejuice a different pistol

"Shoot!" You shout

"OH!" Beetlejuice fumbles with the gun before taking clear aim and firing, but instead of slime, a red sauce came out, covering bully, you let out a sigh you didnt know you were holding, the fact that beetlejuice ACTUALLY hit bully was nothing other than luck.

"Huh?! BARBEQUE SAUCE?! GET IT OFF OF ME" Bully screams

"I dont know about you, babes, but I could eat." beetlejuice growls, scraping a knife and fork together.

Bully scared for his afterlife screams and scrambles out of tombstone, off into the sunset and out of sight.

"Thank god" you sigh, absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted

"We did it, babes!" Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Sheriff, we can't thank you enough." The mayor shakes Beetlejuice's hand

"Yup, bully the crud won't be bothering this town anymore, so long as you keep plenty of barbeque sauce on hand, but alas, it's about time I hung up the old slimeshooters" beetlejuice sighs

"WHAT?!" The mayor of tombstone drops to the ground and hugs Beetlejuice's knees."NO! dont quit, is it because of me, because I got you to take the job with trickery, dishonesty, and deceit?"

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "heck no  I like that in a guy, but no, I'm hanging up my guns for personal reasons, all this mud are ruining my boots"

The mayor sighs, "we lose a lot of them that way..."

"We should get going, Beej." You finally interrupt, desperate to get home and rest.

Beetlejuice perks up. "So babes, how's bout a thank you for your hero, huh?" Beetlejuice  leans into you, wiggling his eyebrows

"A 'thank you' to the guy whose fault I almost married to cow?" You snort out a laugh

"I came back in the nic of time, didn't I? Come on, come on, come on~" the ghoul teases, nudging his elbow into your arm.

You yank beetlejuice by his neckerchief pulling him close to your level, that was enough to get him to shut his mouth, and in an instant, you give him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.

Letting him go, he remains stunned. You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm

"Come on, beetlejuice, let's go home"

"...Right"

It was odd, everytime you've shown beej kindness or compassion, he would always go off saying it was 'gross' but this time that wasnt that case, he remained silent, which after the day you had, you were fine with that.

Bonus

To be honest, you were exhausted, between a rough work week and that whole emotional nearly married to a monster thing. You nearly passed out when you returned home.

But now all that was behind you and you were home again, safe and unwed.

In the netherworld, the ghoul who dragged you into the situation/ saved you was laying awake in his bed, hand gingerly placed upon the cheek you so quickly kissed.

Yes, beetlejuice has kissed you multiple times, but as a joke, sort of, but this? You kissing him? With genuine feeling?

"Gross" was all he could utter, hand still holding the spot where your lips met his cold face.

[greenplumbboblover]

Happy almost new year!

Yesterday I posted that whole "Top 10 Tumblr posts" but while that was fun to see, I figured I'd go through things I felt was a great accomplishment of this year for me. And some new years resolutions ;)

Accomplishments of 2023:

I made a website!

I know it's tiny and that it's not really great (yet) for getting tons of views, but I do want to thank everyone (I actually typed out all the names but tumblr was being stupid and I couldn't post the post then :/) for either giving it a try or using it. Without you, it would've just been a floating idea with no purpose. :) Thank you so much for believing in it!

I created a new sims story!

Gone a bit back to my original Simblr roots and made a story! Chapter 1 had been in my screenshots folder for over 2 years now, but I was just self-conscious about sharing it. I'm glad I actually got to terms that the only way to know if people will like it, is by sharing it. :)

Came back to Tumblr fully again.

Over those 2 years I hadn't really been on Tumblr much. I'd post my mod posts and that was it. Truth be told, I didn't really have much motivation to do TS3 stuff anymore at that time. But I think in the end I forgot how fun it can be :) I know I suck at interacting with people, though my anxiety often gets the best of me, and I'm genuinely sorry about that! I'm hoping to change that next year with some help.

New Year's resolutions:

I know most people probably didn't get through the whole thing because I type a lot, but if you do, hey there :)

Making Simblr.cc feel more personalized

I feel like currently it feels very download-oriented, which I'd like to keep! But that vibe also seems to be around with the more picture - oriented things. So I just want to make part of that feel more Tumblr-ish where it's just your personalized space. :)

Starting to sell stickers (and such)!

I know, kind of clique thing that everyone seems to be doing now and then, but I have seriously been loving to draw a lot. Though, my creative outlet only seems motivated when I do something for someone/something. So I was hoping to not just sell stickers for SImblr.cc as a donation thing, but also to make some of my own. :)

Finishing LISISV

I never intended to make LISISV like those shows that have been around for 20 years and going on. :p I know most of you do, which I love! But I'm not sure if I will be able to, lol.

I was hoping to rewrite the entirety of "Elly" which I did YEARS ago as a wee 14 year old (till I think, like 16?) but that's all basically teenage cringe IMO :p The concept and the characters however I always adored. So who knows!

Figuring out what to do with Interests & Hobbies

I keep promising that I'll finish it "after this mod" and I honestly do open it up, work on it for a little bit but then I start working on a feature and it... just doesn't work with the mod? However, the more I do that, the more 'bland' the mod becomes. So I don't know what do with it anymore 😅 Anyone who knows please help!

Unless you are all okay with remnants of it, which I'm doing currently :)

Making this space mod I have been wanting to do for a while

Not many people know this about me but i'm a huge sci-fi nerd :p And I wondered how hard it would be to make this “colonizing the a planet” space mod in TS3. Though I know that most people probably wouldn't care about that, since TS3 is more about generational things and... not so much about those things. So, who knows.

I guess I just need to sit down with myself and get my shit together, honestly.

Attempting to actually talk to others.

I don't know how people do it... I honestly want to keep tap of everyone I follow but I get so exhausted, if not, my anxiety starts kicking in because "what if I say the wrong things?" It's not just a tumblr thing though, i've been like that since forever, and maybe should just reach out for help for it. I just don't know.

I just feel as of late that people put great effort into commenting on my things and I'm barely there for them. Yet, just know that I am there, that I do think of you, i'm just deleting my sentences over and over again and just giving up. I'm genuinely sorry about that.

Hopefully your year will be nice and may your wishes come true :

[lostloveletters]

yay sleepover weekend✨ do you have any woody/brady hcs💗

Hi yes! I need to mention @karasnonsense99 and @zaras-really-dreamless because some of this comes from the conversations I’ve had with them, so a million thanks🖤

HCs are under the cut! They're mostly post-war because that's what I've been working on for them recently.

Woody’s clingy. John’s the only person she really considers family besides Holly, and it’s not long before Holly’s back home in DC with Bucky. John’s not complaining, he doesn’t want to be without her for too long once they’re reunited after nearly two years apart. I don’t think they talk about it very much, at least he doesn’t bring it up, but there are times when he’s really glad she’s there to kind of physically ground him. A lot of late-night drives where Woody lets John just kind of have his space in the passenger seat while still knowing she’s there.

Woody doesn’t have a middle name, so her maiden name becomes her middle name, and that’s how they justify still introducing her as “Woody” to people even after her last name is no longer Woodward. She cringes a little every time someone calls her Kate. If they can't (or won't) call her Woody, Mrs. Brady is the next best choice, please. 

John knows from the start that Woody would never be a stay-at-home housewife type. He wouldn’t have married her if he had a problem with that. She works part-time as a mechanic, of course. The extra money definitely helps when they’re first starting out on their own and waiting for GI Bill stuff to kick in.

She’s not great at flirting, so she’s incredibly direct. He’s certainly not complaining about the ego boost but is exasperated at her complete disregard for subtlety sometimes, especially in public. She doesn’t see why it should be an issue because they’re married. He answers that yes, they are, but it’s peacetime and they’re stateside so they have to save it for when they’re back in the confines of their home.

Their house is older, three bedrooms but on the smaller side. I can see them with a lot of hand-me-down furniture from his relatives and “Hey, the trigonometry teacher said he’ll give us this couch he’s getting rid of if you see what’s wrong with his car.” Probably an old-school white Jesus painting somewhere on the wall, likely a housewarming gift from his mother. Always a little messy and kinda cramped, especially as time goes on and they have more kids (6-ish people sharing a full bathroom and half bath type of deal), but it’s very lived in and a comforting place to be.

Woody takes it upon herself to fix things around the house (she’s good at it, but she also has a bit of a complex about feeling like she’s not bringing much to their relationship. He never makes her feel that way, but her internal monologue isn’t always the nicest to her). So she’s on the roof. She probably has no business being on the roof. Somehow she talked John into holding the ladder for her, and he regrets it as soon as she’s up there, yelling to him about finding where rainwater’s leaking in from and replacing shingles.

They wait two or three years to have kids. It's not that Woody doesn't want to, but she's scared whatever made her parents not care about her might somehow be in her, too (it's not, her parents were just shitty, selfish people). John's over the moon when she tells him she thinks she's finally ready. It doesn't take long at all for her to get pregnant when they're actually trying.

Their first child is a daughter named Samantha (Sammy for short!) and they’re extremely lucky she’s a good kid because they have the hardest time saying “no” to her. John will tell her to go to her room and then she looks at him like 🥺🥺🥺 and he’s all “Wait, I didn’t mean it.” He takes it personally when Sammy says she's a big girl and doesn’t need story time before bed. Woody finds him listening to moody jazz under like a single lamp with a drink in his hand, lamenting Sammy’s growing up too fast (she’s five). 

Sammy’s an only child for a while, until she’s about school age and suddenly John and Woody are having a little bit of an emotional crisis and impulsively start trying for another kid. They have the rest of their kids in pretty quick succession after that, so there’s 5 or 6 years between Sammy and her next sibling, while the rest have maybe a year or so between them. There are no favorite children, except Sammy’s secretly John’s favorite. Don’t tell anyone.

[weridpersonhelp]

Red Phone [8]

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master list!

warning: slightly scary, first-time horror writer, stalking, confusion, gramma and spell mistakes, screaming, getting up a horrible hour of night, neurodivergent reader, slow burnish? , x reader, children, puppets, curse langue, music, be ready for cringe!

“Peak a boo! Peak a boo! Who’s that hiding their? Peak a boo! Peak a boo! It’s sissy hiding there!” Jimmy laughs manically, it amazed me at how something so simple could entertain babies. But then again when could play with a pop it or infinity cube for hours, so I can’t judge. Jim claps his hands happily together once again.

“Y/n are you a Jim ready?” Mum asks me, I stand and grab jimmy’s car seat with two hands.

“Yep, want me to put him in?” I ask she just nods spraying her cheap perfume, today we were going into town and shopping. I don’t know why we where going shopping here when at home in the big city their where thousands of places to shop. Placing Jimmy in the car I take my seat next to him in the middle buckling both of our seat belts. Jimmy sucked on his pacifier while I scrolled through TikTok, I hear the car side door open and in pop grandma with a nice coat sitting in the front.

“isn’t dad coming?”

“Oh no honey he’s working on some stuff at the house, do you know what we are doing again?” Grandma asks.

“where going to the second hand shops most likely, I’m going to be spending my money on new tea pots and cups for my collection!”

“aah yes, you always had that umm, interesting fascination with my tea cups and pots. Do you want them?” My grandma question confused me a little, why would she give them away to me?

“I mean yes, but what about your collection?”

“Oh, it’s fine I’m cleaning out my house a little I have too much. You’ll be sharing with your cousins as well! But I’ll let you get first pick.” Grandma whispers the last part I chuckle at her words and like that mum enters the car.

“Alright who’s ready to shop! Till we drop!” Mum starts the car, and like that the shopping day started. I’ll spare you the details but we went to over 15 different shops! I didn’t even know they town had that many second-hand shops!

“Y/n! you take Jimmy while me a gran look around some more!” mum says handing me Jim, before disappearing with grandma with out another word. Jimmy was wailing, crying most likely because he was done with today already and wanted to back to grandma’s. And I couldn’t agree more, I felt over stimulated. My legs where saw I felt the music grown louder with each second, and not to mention Jim’s wailing. I was exhausted and ran out of the store as quickly as possible for some fresh air. I hadn’t noticed until now how a I was holding onto my breath, did I even breath in their? It didn’t matter now, the cold air hit me like a ton of bricks, and slightly calmed my down and it seems like something similar with Jimmy as his crying calmed down a little bit. I rock back a forth for him while we waited, that was until I noticed he was pointing at something. I looked in the window, and their it was. Another Welcome home Vhs tape! But what was one doing here of all places?

“woohuei” My brother says, or tries too. I was a little shocked at first how did he remember his name when he only watched it once? The cover was different, with wally outside painting he faces the viewer with his smirk, Barnaby and Julie laugh, frank trying to catch a butterfly that landed on Eddies hat. And of course home a bit further in the back ground that you can just see it.

“Sissy wooheui!!” I nod my head along, we only watch one episode of the show so far, there was still like 5 left? Would it be worth buying the second tape or would I be wasting money that didn’t need to be wasted? My brother points again this time with a bigger smile, dam it. How could I resist such a cute smile? I walk back into the store and grab the tape walking up to the counter quickly as I could.

“Hi, their, how much was this?” “only a dollar love.” The old lady says I pull the dollar from my pocket and hand it to her she smiles and places it in the draw.

“Would you like a bag with that?”

“no thank you, but could you wrap it in newspaper?” the lady does as I have asked with no question, which I was thankful for. What would I tell her anyway? Oh my grandma just acted weird when we first watched it so I don’t want to possibly harm her by letting her know I bought this!

“Thank you for your purchase have a nice day.” “You too ma’am” I say leaving the store and opening up the car, I place the now newspaper wrapped. I put the boy in and sigh giving him his pacifier, I was just so done with today. It was honestly fun, I like shopping and getting good deals as long as it’ not 15 shops next time.

…

Bonus

“You talked about him, do you ever know what happened to the body?” Liane asks Maggie as they approach the car.

“yes, down by the creek. He seems he wanted to go swimming but drowned. Or that’s what the police said,” Maggie explains the two women get in the car. Liane turns to face her kids but they where both past out, dead asleep.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with them honestly!”

“Let them rest. you’re a little too hard on Y/n, she’s still a child!”

“I know, Isaac reminds me. It’s just- ugh how do I explain?” she says pinching the bridge of her noise and sighs.

“She just so different from us? I know it’s not easy for neurodivergent people to make friends, but she only has Safa! And I’ve talked to her parents and she going to collage for a business degree while my baby. she, I’m just scared for her. And last night made me more scared! She could have been hurt! And she answers the phone instead! She so much like John! And I don't want her to resent or hate me just like him!"

“That child of yours is strong. Considering what she has been through, and what you have been through! I’m just happy your both here."

...

who is john?

Tag: @quittingfortgebetter @egg1sblog @ice-cream-writes-stuff @thealreadyunsteadyteddynewpaper @narucore

[hi again so I have something to share. I got an idea but not 100% sure on it again so I'm asking you guys!

the poll is here

I didn't put is here beacuse last time I could not change anything and it was very annoying so here have a good one and yeah