#sorry i havent written in a while

[angelyuji]

violent short-tempered yandere type characters

i cant remember where i got this idea. either i saw it on a show or it came to me in a dream.... alsooo im mostly basing this off of rick sanchez cuz im insane and i love my men crazy, smart, and old. im also addicted to rick and morty rn and im praying the next season comes out soon..... anyway

tw // murder, kidnapping, yandere stuff, treating someone like an object/pet (i cant remember the word for it)

they're busy people. they dont have time to date you or stalk u for long periods of time. they’re impatient and short-tempered and generally assholes. they literally saw you once and thought u were the cutest thing ever.

they watched, angrily, as your partner’s hand squeezes your butt. they watched as you giggled, lightly pushing your partner. they knew in one glance that you shouldn't be with your asshole partner. you deserved better. someone smarter, kinder, stronger like themselves. their fists clenched as they pushed past everyone in the way, seeing red. no one is allowed to touch you like that except for them. no one should be able to feel your warmth and see your smile except for them. they finally get close to the two of you and in one quick movement, your partner’s brains had splattered onto the pavement. your scream filled their ears and a sense of peace filled them. they grabbed your arm and the two of you disappeared from view.

you dont even have to meet them. one quick glance from you is all they need. they kill anyone in their path. anyone that poses a threat to you. anyone that even thinks about taking you away from them.

theyre mean to you, but all they want is to keep you safe. to hold you. to keep your love to themselves. they’re so easily jealous.

(like how rick cares abt his family, but he’s still an absolute asshole to them) (rick brainrot guys i need the old fuck NEOW) (i think i just love fictional older men who have committed heinous crimes…) (anyway)

the only time they’d be kind to u is if they feel like you’re pulling away or thinking of escaping. its a lot of hot and cold. you would constantly annoy them. to them, you should be seen, not heard. there when they need comfort, but you need to fuck off otherwise. you’re quite literally their pet. they keep you to entertain them.

definitely: homelander, omni-man, sukana, william afton, ooc rick sanchez

maybe: canon rick sanchez, ooc captain america

[judasgot-it]

BSD Men After Their GF Clogs Their Toilet and Cries about it

This is not inspired by a real event, but also it kind of is. Don't judge me I'm already writing this.

Kicks you out, vomits because he knows that it's impossible for women to take shits. What he saw in there wasn't possible, it had to be an attempt to kill him

-Jouno, Fyodor, Akutugawa

Get's you medication because that was the birth of the anti-christ straight through the ass, and clearly you needed pain meds or something. He doesn't know, he didn't know a shit that big was even humanly possible

-Tecchou, Fukuzawa, Sigma

"Hey. It's fine. We all do it. I'll call a plumber." He doesn't want to admit it, since you're crying from embarrassment, but he's impressed. He sent a photo to all of his friends and is going to print it and hang it on the wall to commemorate the date.

-Chuuya, Kunikida, Atsushi

"Damn girl, you shit here often?"

-Ranpo, Kaiji, Dazai

"You should put this in the book of world records. It's kind of cool."

-Tachihara, Mark Twain, Tanizaki

Doesn't even notice until the next day. Somehow, he just doesn't notice it, and you become actually concerned over the fact that he has a clogged toilet that he passes multiple times and doesn't notice. He never says anything either - you assume he's just being polite, but it remains there when you come over the next time, making you question his sanity.

-Poe, Fukuchi, Mori

[ajaxless]

Helping Beelzebub put on black paint before his Fangol game. He saw somewhere online that humans wear it during their football games, which sounds rather similar to Fangol and wanted to try it.

He has you cup his face while you rub the pen across his upper cheeks and the bridge of his nose while he looks at you as if you were the only thing that mattered. Maybe sneaks a few kisses in between you using your fingers to spread the paint around.

You paint little hearts on his cheeks with your thumbs, leaving cute 'lil finger prints on him and he shows it off like a trophy. Beelzebub has that dopey lopsided grin he gets when spending time with his family or before chowing down on one of his favorite meals plastered on his face when he wins the game. Proudly runs over to the bleachers and smooches you again just for the hell of it. Beelzebub ends up nuzzling his nose against yours and covers you in the same paint you put on him before his game.

Beel flushes a deep red when you suggest washing it off together in the locker room when his teammates leave

(NSFW UNDER THE CUT)

Poor thing is torn between going out and getting burgers with Belphie and you or simply pressing you onto your knees and rutting into you from behind as you lean against a bench for support.

You get to watch that paint streak down his face from the shower head as he has your back against the wall and your thigh in his hands, grinding his cock against you. Water doesn't exactly make the best lube, but he doesn't mind. As soon as he gets home from dinner with you and Belphie, there will be a round three in your bedroom.

[employee052]

[A new ending and a new beginning.] (art + a fic)

[I accidentally wrote a lot for the art piece, so the full art is at the end under the cut!]

"An odd silence fell between the two of them as the sun began to gently rise from its slumber and out into the sky above. A soft drizzle pouring onto the ground below as Stanley clung to the jacket resting on his shoulders. The breeze hitting his skin as he realized what this was.

It was weather.

It was the rain. It was the cool breeze against his skin, the warmth of the sun above, the grass below him, the trees surrounding him.

It was freedom. Just like the way the two had hoped that they would one day see.

The Narrator smiled softly, Gently grabbing Stanley's hand as they sat side by side on the hilltop.

He gazed out into the world around them. The sunlight making his eyes shine a familiar yellow as he turned to see all there was to see in that moment alone. There was an odd sense of finality to his face, as though he was conjuring another story in his mind. Only this time, there were no more endings, no more resets.

Simply a story with a beginning and an end.

Stanley looked at him curiously, nudging his arm as The Narrator turned to face him with a guilty look.

This made Stanley nervous. Despite having only seen the Narrator in person for a short amount of time, in all his time within the office, he never once imagined that the same man that he was hearing all this time would be sitting beside him looking at him like he was his world.

And perhaps he was, Stanley thought to himself.

'It's funny, isn't it Stanley?' The Narrator asked in a low rumble, 'To think, the ending we've both desperately dreamed of achieving, and all you had to do was get me to listen."

Stanley smiled, it was a challenge to get him to stop without a voice. An even bigger challenge to get him to listen to what he had to say.

Yet as his legs ached from running up those stairs towards the escape pod, The Narrator holding his hand as he wondered if they were really about to be freed. Stanley knew that he would do it all again if it meant that the two of them could sit on this hill together for just a brief moment.

The Narrator sighed, looking down at their hands in silent acceptance. Gently caressing soft circles on the back of Stanley's hand.

Stanley didn't need to look. The weight in his chest telling him all that he needed to know.

Stanley kept his eyes on the Narrator's face. Set on dedicating it to memory as the soft wisps of distortion chipping off the Narrator's body. His coat on his shoulders growing steadily lighter.

'It's okay,' The Narrator reassured, his free hand wrapping around Stanley's torso in a gentle side hug. 'We've both achieved our freedom. Even if it was for a brief moment.'

A sob escaped Stanley's throat. A soft gasp before he broke out into tears. He pulled The Narrator in for a hug, clinging desperately to him as he felt him hug back. The two of them holding onto each other desperately as the ending was in sight.

'Oh... I have so many things I wish to tell you Stanley.'

Stanley felt the Narrators lips press against his head tenderly.

'But this isn't my ending to live. It's simply another beginning to your own story.'

The two stayed like this for another moment. Holding each other in their arms as the stars faded for the morning skies' hues to colour the atmosphere above them. Tears streaming down their faces. Stanley felt the Narrator's grip grow weaker feeling the distortion grow more intense as he clung to him even harder.

'Stanley, would you mind if I narrate this moment for us? For old times sake.' He whispered. 'It will be different, I promise.'

Stanley chuckled quietly. His shoulders shaking as he nodded, wiping his tears. For once, he never thought his lines would bring him this much comfort.

The Narrator coughed, the distortion about to overtake him as he pulled Stanley in closer. Speaking with whole chest befitting for a true and final ending.

'And so, Stanley and The Narrator could feel the breeze against their skin. A new ending, and a new beginning for them both. The feeling of freedom within themselves.'

'This was exactly the way, right now, that things were meant to happen.'

'And Stanley was free.' "

[The End]

~~~~~~~

[For different versions of the art!- uh... we can only have one cut, so just... scroll down lmao]

[lululandd]

gentle;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

word count: 1,648

warnings: smut (safe and educational sex scenes + precautions for the hypothetical minors that read smut)

note: 👏 fanfic 👏 writers 👏 are 👏 responsible 👏 for 👏 the 👏 youth’s 👏 sex education 👏

summary: in the dim light of the room, you swore you saw him smile.

🍆 you put da peepee in (with condom please) 🍆

🔥 you pull da peepee out (dont forget lube) 🔥

🍌 you put da peepee in (again, with condom) 🍌

🤡 and shake it all about (stretch before sex or you might get a cramp or something) 🤡

imagine asking people to write realistic smut for potential minors that ignore tags and warnings lmfao shaking my smh

[luvxiem]

ngl this is my first time asking in this app

can i request luca with 25 ‘ *this* is the guy? ‘ im starving for some overprotective luca 🥹

knight in cotton armor

[ INFO ]

✧ word count: 1.2k

✧ pairing: luca kaneshiro x gn!reader

✧ genre: fluff

✧ summary: a simple craving for ice cream turned into an eventful night when you're stuck with people with malicious intentions.

how you found yourself in a situation like this, you weren't quite sure.

it wasn't too late into the night—only barely past ten—yet the dim streetlights did nothing to help quell your nerves and give you the courage to finally leave your car. you've been sitting low in the driver's seat for almost fifteen minutes now, eyeing the group of drunkards loitering in front of the 7/11 you parked outside. feeling a subtle vibration coming from your hand, you checked your phone to see a message from luca.

'are you still in the car???' [10:07]

'yes ToT' [10:07] 'these dudes wont leave.. wtf do i do. i just wanted ice cream 🗿🗿' [10:08]

with a sigh, you dropped your hand back into your lap and let your head fall back with a small thud against the seat. 'whatever,' you thought. 'it's not like i'll get murdered.' with that you grabbed your keys and pushed open the door, already noting the turn of heads out of the corner of your peripheral. a low whistle filled the stagnant night air as four sets of eyes followed you into the store, a small chime signaling your arrival.

you made a beeline to the back of the store where they kept their ice cream, determined not to stay here any longer than you have to. unfortunately, the universe decided that tonight you were the one it wanted to pick on.

"hey cutie." sighing, you schooled your expression into one that didn't clearly show your discomfort and looked over your shoulder, giving the stranger a small smile and a 'hello.' a quick glance around showed that this one was all alone, most likely egged on by his equally drunk friends outside to follow you inside and harass you.

and you would think that turning your back on the stranger to look for your ice cream was a clear signal that you weren't interested in any further conversation yet it seems this dude couldn't get the hint. a tap on your shoulder prompted you to turn around again, this time a bit more visibly annoyed.

"can i help you?" the man gave you a rather (in your humble opinion) sleazy smile, tucking his hands into this stained hoodie pocket and licking his lips briefly before subjecting you to his inane thoughts.

"yeah, actually," he grinned, reaching up to wipe his nose before holding his phone out expectantly. you raised your eyebrow in contempt. "could i get'cho number?"

"i have a boyfriend, sorry," you replied, turning back to continue searching for your ice cream when a rough grip on your shoulder spun you around forcefully, shoving you into the clear doors lining the shelves. where was the clerk?!

the feeling of hot, moist breath that smelt distinctly of cheap vodka hit your nose and made your face scrunch up reflexively in disgust, your hands coming up to try and push your assailant away.

"he doesn't have to kno-WOAH!" suddenly you were freed from behind held against the cold coolers, shivering from both the chill and the lingering grossness of being touched by a stranger like that.

"hey, the fuck is your problem?!" he scowled, rubbing his neck where he was forcefully pulled away.

"seriously? this is the guy?" looking up, you're met with blonde hair and broad shoulders, the tiniest sliver of a tattoo peeking out from underneath the grey henley your boyfriend wore. his arms crossed rather menacingly over his chest, toned biceps in clear view with the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. across from him, the drunkard is now visibly agitated, however when he tried to approach, luca grabbed the front of his hoodie and lifted him clear off the ground. agitation quickly turned into nervousness as the guy lifted his hands in surrender.

"woah—chill dude; i-i wasn't gonna try anything, i swear," he stutters, scrambling to his feet when luca drops him rather unceremoniously to the floor, cursing under his breath as he fled the store. luca immediately spins on his heel, turning to face you with clear worry on his face. frantic hands turn you this way and that before settling on your cheeks as he rubs his nose against yours.

"are you okay?! no, of course you're not—jesus christ, what the hell! why didn't you just come over to my place if you wanted ice cream?" he moaned, pulling you into his chest in a tight hug. you could hear his racing heartbeat under your ear and you can't help but laugh at the situation. luca was so angry and intimidating not even a minute ago and now he's returned to the cute, cuddly golden retriever you fell in love with.

"baby, i'm fine," you grinned, pulling his arms off of you so you could give him a quick kiss. luca is still frowning when you pull away, however, and you could tell he was still upset with the situation. honestly, you were still shaken up about it too, so you decided to kill two birds with one stone and link your arms with his, staying as close as possible to ease both your nerves.

"c'mon, i still haven't gotten my ice cream," you say, opening one of the glass doors to grab a pint of salted caramel from the freezer. luca unlinks your arms to throw his over your shoulder instead, rubbing the bare skin of your arm with his thumb in an attempt to comfort both you and him (skin to skin contact always seemed to help).

"i still think you should've just come over to my place," he whined, watching the door as you paid with a tap of your phone against the reader. you pat his chest and hum in response, shooting a quick thank you to the cashier before you both exited the store.

"babe, all you have is cookies and cream."

"what—what's wrong with cookies and cream?!"

"i don't like it!"

you laugh as luca fumbles for an answer, mock offense on his face at your distaste for his favorite flavor. the night air felt a bit warmer than before, the comforting breeze easing your nerves. you look around for luca's motorcycle but the parking lot is empty except for your car and one that presumably belongs to the poor college kid inside working the night shift.

"hey—how'd you get here?" you ask confusedly. luca shrugs.

"i ran." you pause, turning to face him fully with disbelief clearly written on your face.

"luca."

"yeah?"

"you live like, five miles away from here."

"and?" you throw your hands up in defeat. of course your boyfriend ran five miles to come save you—he probably left the house the minute you first texted him about being too scared to leave your car. no wonder he asked which 7/11 you were at.

"you wanna come over to mine?" you sigh, watching luca immediately beam at the prospect of being able to sleep over despite having already hung out with you earlier that day.

you unlock your car and slide into the driver's seat as luca slips into the passenger side, placing your ice cream in between his feet.

"can we get back to the important thing here?" he asks as you pull out of the parking lot.

"which is?"

"why you don't like cookies and cream which is clearly the superior flavor-"

"LUCA!"

[ WRITTEN 230601 ]

500 follower event prompt list

[vaugarde]

havent seen this take in a while thankfully but it popped up in my head and i wanna post this anyways. i think everyone who talks about how siffrin “got off too easy” at the end of isat and his friends should have abandoned him should go read warrior cats if they want an example of a character using their trauma as their god-given jailbreak card to treat their family and peers (a good amount of whom who were completely innocent) like dogshit, and who faces zero consequences from the narrative for it (and in fact bends over to blame their peers). like read all the shit jayfeather does while the narrative sobs over how tragic but awesome and quirky he is and then look me in the eye and tell me siffrin’s ending was poorly written.

[hall0wedwyrm]

sorry franklydear enjoyers i didn't mean to hit you with this one so soon (i did)

based on the idea i had when i was analysing the newest WH update so obviously spoilers for that. anyway enjoy <3

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

It had been a few days since Homewarming festivities had ended. 

Eddie had left the party abruptly that day, and no one had really seen him since. It was a point of concern for everyone... but also no one really knew what to do. 

Frank had spent the past day asking and looking around, clearly reaching his peak of concern. Initially, he thought that Eddie just needed some time for himself. He looked overwhelmed when the two of them had made eyecontact, and it was best to let him take some time off. But eventually he couldn't wait any longer. He started by asking some of the neighbours, but they came up with nothing.  

“He did look awfully tired...” Sally sighed, “But I don’t think even Eddie could sleep that long...”  

“Have you seen him leave the post office since?” Frank asked, using the question that he would proceed to ask every other member of the town. 

“Hmm... now that you mention it...” She pondered, “I haven’t no... I support the sentiment of going to check on him, though.” 

“Eddie was supposed to deliver some things to my shop!” Howdy threw his hands up in despair, “I haven’t had my batch of new stock... but Eddie is more important. I just hope hes okay.” 

“Maybe... he’s doing something that's taking a long time...” Julie remained her joyful self, “What if he’s making us a surprise?!” Frank appreciated her ideas, but this wasn’t helping. He thanked her and moved on. 

“Oh dear, I do hope he’s okay...” Poppy placed down her baking tray, “I’ve been so busy baking and trying out this new cookbook that it’s completely passed my mind... Would you keep me updated?” 

Barnaby seemed to be the most passive about the situation, “Eh. Maybe he’s just holed up in there for a reason.” He shrugged, “He’ll come out of there on his own. I’m sure of it.”  

“Very nice of you, Barnaby,” Frank rolled his eyes, “I’ll keep you updated, I suppose.” 

Frank took this as the last stand. He began his march towards the post office across town. It wasn’t that far of a walk, but it felt like hours. The dread building slowly, making Frank worry about what on earth he would find in there.  

He had to tell himself that Eddie was fine, and that he would walk into the office and find him doing something incredibly mundane, like organising the mail or sweeping up bits of paper from his latest craft. 

“Where are you going, Frank?”  

A voice cut through his panicked thoughts. He jumped in surprise, immediately spinning around to be met with a familiar empty stare.  

Wally Darling... 

“O-Oh! Wally!” Frank stammered, “What a... pleasant surprise...!” He tried to pull of his shock in any way that wasn’t a weird mild fear he suddenly had, “I’m... going to visit Eddie! I haven’t seen him since Homewarming so I was worried about him.”  

“Oh...” a very blunt response, “That’s very nice of you.” Wally pulled his best smile he could, considering he had some kind of permanent grin anyway. Frank smiled back, but it was more of a strained grin.  

“Good luck, Frank.” Wally didn’t move, hinting at Frank to make his own exit from the conversation.  

“Ah... Th-Thank you.” Frank hurries off, leaving Wally to watch as he leaves. 

The door to the post office was covered by the blinds that Frank didn’t know it had. It also looked completely dark inside, adding to the dread. Frank tried his best to peek inside, but it was futile. He thought it would be best to just go inside. 

Frank took a deep breath... and opened the door slowly. 

The lights were off inside, as he has suspected, but there was no sign of life either.  

“Eddie...?” Frank could barely speak, his nerves getting the better of him.  

He looked around the empty room. It wasn’t in any sort of disarray, rather that it was organised. Like it had been untouched for a while. Not a speck of dust though, as if something had been looking after it, or it had become stuck in time without Eddie. 

“Hello...??” He calls out again, standing in the middle of the main room. He had spun around a few times, hoping maybe one turn would help him find something he hadn’t seen before. Unfortunately, it didn’t work like that, and he knew it.  

Frank went behind the counter, into the back room. On the counter in front of him was Howdy’s parcel, wrapped and assigned to him. Eddie was going to deliver it before whatever happened to him or wherever he went.  

Panicking further, Frank rushed out of the back, and then trying to find an upstairs or where Eddie would have been living. Off in the corner of the room, there was a very plain looking door, leading Frank to suspect that it was potentially what he could be looking for.  

He approached, took another much deeper breath this time, and placed his hand on the door handle. He hesitated for a few moments, the dread lingering harder than before. He had a voice in his head screaming that something very bad had happened to Eddie... or he had done something to...

Eddie would never. He’s probably just having a bad spell, and he’s be fine... 

In a swift movement, he turned the handle and flung open the door.  

Silence. 

Eddie’s room was completely untouched. It has been perfectly organised and cleaned. Not an item out of place. It was unsettling, to say the least.

A shiver went down Frank’s spine... He was completely clueless.  

...

Where is Eddie...?

[ask-valiant-victory]

[ Reply to this - Shauna belongs to @ask-a-silvy ]

Valiant seemed quite happy with this action because he gave a cheerful chirp as soon as she put down the last note.

He cautiously picked up the first paper.

"I'm not very good at explaining things." He muttered while beginning to read over the notes. Unfortunately, It was just as before. Alot of fumbling over words, pausing... as painful as that may have been to listen to. He however quickly paused halfway through them.

"You do not seem useless, you listened to me. And you did the task I asked of you. That is much more than I do and Arceus says I am very useless." "I do not see how you could also be useless, perhaps I am misunderstanding the meaning of the word 'useless' but this is the only context I hear it used in."

"I don't quite understand 'SAD' but I know it is not good. I do not think I can feel 'SAD' so I cannot relate to the 'SAD' even if I wanted to. Uhm, I am sorry..." He didn't dwell on it, instead, he turned his attention back towards the notes. [ . . . ]

"... you draw pictures?"

"I will do anything. Please show me the picture. I like looking at pictures. Any pictures. All the pictures. I want to see them all. Please show me the picture."

[silverskye13]

hi hello i’m back with another word of the day that suits RnS and i don’t remember the format i used so

Propensity (noun; pruh-PENN-suh-tee)

A strong natural tendency to do something

good solid word that you’ve probably heard before, but I think I’ve sent some that fit that, and that’s kinda helsmet coded so. yeah. so need to respond to any of these btw, it’s just my interest in words

You have a propensity for words I see!

This is a very good word of the day for RnS. I am holding it close.

[sipsteainanxiety]

mha nation how yall doin

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[amberswords]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞 Minors DNI! 🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

I was chatting in Melk's discord server (a very cool JJBA discord I'm in btw wink wink) and thanks to the guys I am riddled with butch Jotaro thoughts again good LORD.

I love thinking of going to the gym with him or even having him there as your personal trainer. Getting so distracted by watching him do weights that you cannot even pretend you were doing your routine when he turns to look at you and catches your eye. Having to ask him for help to reach the pull up bar and feeling his massive hands wrapping around your waist, or even right under your ass, and how he can effortlessly lift you and hold you there for a couple seconds as you catch yourself.

The more time you spend at the gym the more he catches onto the fact that you absolutely are not there for any sort of training reasons and you are mostly interested in ogling him, but /also/, he knows the perfect hours when the showers are almost entirely empty so what's the problem in indulging you a bit?

[littleautobot]

trying to get back into the swing of writing fic. also wrote this when i had a headache earlier lul

Soundwave’s head was throbbing. 

The argument that had broken out at the council meeting didn't help, and Soundwave had dismissed everyone early for the sake of his sanity. Soundwave didn't lose control of his powers so easily, but when he did he could barely function. He couldn’t tolerate it any longer.

He had transformed and sped away– back to the quiet of the valley he and Cosmos called home, deep in the redwood forests of the north. There was never silence for Soundwave, but the natural ambiance of the woodland was quiet enough. The sound of the wind through the trees and the crunch of animals in the undergrowth was much preferable to the constant din of noise, both human and Cybertronian, of San Francisco. 

The construction crew building the new commune underground had finished for the day, happily. The small ship he and Cosmos shared as temporary lodging was not soundproofed– something Soundwave sought to rectify, but for now, it did not matter.

Soundwave opened the ship’s hatch and stepped inside. He disconnected his shoulder cannon and let it fall to the floor as he leaned against the door, pressing his hands to the sides of his head to relieve the pain. 

He heard the familiar patter of Cosmos’s footsteps, the clink of an energon cube set down on the table, before he felt the warm, welcoming caress of Cosmos's field against his frame.

“Are you alright, Soundwave?” he asked, voice low, well aware of his partner's sensory problems. 

Soundwave’s vision had started to blur from the headache’s aura, but he could see the concern writ plain on Cosmos’s face. “Bad…bad migraine.” he managed.

Cosmos nodded silently in acknowledgement. He offered the cube of energon he had prepared to Soundwave, who refused it– so instead Cosmos took his hand and led him to their room. 

Cosmos laid down on their bed, on the side nearest the wall, and Soundwave followed. He laid his aching head on the minibot’s chest and wrapped his arms around him, giving a long exhale through his vents. The slow, arrhythmic pulse of Cosmos’s spark was…surprisingly soothing, and Soundwave focused in on the sound, offlining his visor. Cosmos began to rub soothing circles into the sides of his head, the firm yet gentle pressure further chasing away the pain.

Content, Soundwave flared a burst of affection and appreciation for Cosmos into his field; slipping blissfully into recharge.

[nukacourier]

It took James a while to find his own sense of identity. Looking in the mirror, he saw the eyes often compared to his mother's staring back at him. Her dark skin, her curly hair. His father's blocky face shape and long smile rather than his own.

Even his dreams weren't his own. His father's aspirations for a better world imposed on him, his morals and ideals shaped him. His own name, chosen himself for what he found most important in life - his father.

His father who cried when he replaced the name of his mother passed on to him, not because he was unhappy with his son changing - but out of sadness that the image of his late wife that had been imposed on their child was nothing more than just an image.

And for a while, it's all James felt like he was. Simply their image cut and shaped into a person that would live up to their expectations. Even after their death.

After learning about the world, it became more bearable. James learned we are all just what the people around us shaped us to be. He made peace with himself, learning he is not simply a personal project for the ghosts of his family - but a love letter, written and signed by everyone he's ever known and loved. He is the embodiment of love. Love of his family, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, and partners.

And in the end, knowing this is like a warm embrace to know he's made of not just the love and care others, but his own love for them too. He knows who he is, that he's pieces of everyone who's cared and who he's cared for. And it's a beautiful thing to be.

[kellyscowboy]

for enemies to stranger to lover prompts "Just kiss me already, you idiot." for ikeshot please and thanks

this is almost a year old... erm oops! no fr i'm sorry but trust i'm locking in. also can't find the prompt list so if anyone can find it, please link it to me!! thanks <333

Ike and Hotshot didn't really get along at first. The boys actually, really, hated each other. Ike thought Hotshot was quite uptight. "The guy has a stick up his ass, Mike!" And the Brooklyn boy thought the Manhattan boy was 'too much of a baby.'

They didn't see each other very often, so nothing ever really came of the hatred. Until the strike. Then they were together all the time. Brooklyn boys were constantly in the lodging house, much to Ike's dismay. All the planning and politics had to go down somewhere, right?

Ike knew that, but he didn't understand why it had to be there. Couldn't it just be somewhere neutral? Like Jacobi's or Medda's place, or really anywhere that Ike didn't sleep.

"Is that a stuffed toy?" Hotshot asked, sounding thoroughly shocked.

Ike flushed red. He shoved the doll under a sheet. "My ma made it."

"Ain't you too old to have stuffed toys?"

The Manhattan boy wasn't easily angered. Usually he was the most patient newsboy in his borough. But this was really a sore subject, is what Ike told himself, and the other boy should've known better. "Ain't ya old enough to mind your business? Or did your mama not care about you enough? Huh? Is that why ya can't understand why I would keep something from her? She didn't love you enough?"

"Ike..." Mike said, horrified. He had never heard his brother be mean. And Ike almost felt bad... until there was a fist in his nose and blood dripping onto his shirt.

Then the two boys were rolling on the ground, punches being thrown left and right. Distantly, Ike could hear Mike yelling at him. He could feel his twin grabbing at his shoulder. But he just shoved the boy back and continued to throw his arms around wildly.

It wasn't a fair fight, not by a mile. Hotshot was a fighter. The brawns of the Brooklyn operation. Each launch of his arm was strategic and strong. He knew where he was punching and why he was punching. Ike was the loveable goofy of Manhattan who hadn't so much as had a black eye before. He didn't know what he was doing. His arms mostly just flailed around and he prayed it might make contact once or twice.

"What the hell is going on?" Jack yelled. And though Ike was small, and not typically considered strong, it took himself, Racetrack, and Albert to rip him away from Hotshot. Who was being pulled away by Spot and one of the bigger Brooklyn guys.

Ike shook the boys off angrily and wiped at his bloody nose. "This guy's a dick, that's what's going on!"

"Oh, please." Hotshot laughed dryly. "Don't hide the baby act now!"

The Manhattan boys had to hold Ike back from lunging at the other boy again. Jack shoved Ike away and groaned, rubbing his face as the Brooklyn and Manhattan boys shouted at each other. "Okay. OKAY!" The room went silent. "Here's what we's gonna do, okay? You two are gonna sit in a room and you're gonna figure it out. We ain't got no strike if we don't all get along. So you guys are gonna fix it, or I will. And you ain't gonna like the way I'll fix it."

That's when it all started to change. The two of them were locked in a room together with Mike outside the door, who was told to drag the two of them out by their ears if they started to fight. So they sat in silence, sniffling up the blood from their (probably) broken noses. Hotshot pushed at his bruises while Ike shoved his abandoned shirt up his nose.

"Didn't think ya'd be any good." Hotshot mumbled. "Thought it'd be an easy fight. One punch and done."

Ike chuckled. "I don't think I actually landed anything on ya."

"If that was true, I wouldn't have had to pop my nose back into place."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you look just as good as before." Then Ike froze, and chose to just pretend he didn't say it. A sort of uneasy silence fell between them as Hotshot took in the words and Ike decided which way he was going to kill himself.

Hotshot wasn't used to blind hatred feeling like this. Usually, when he hated someone, he didn't want to be around them. Didn't want to antagonize them or anything, just wanted to avoid them at every cost. But it was different with Ike. All he wanted to do was be around the boy. And although he had previously thought it was to make fun of the boy, or even to get into a fight with him. But he had begun to rethink the whole thing they had going on.

Maybe the reason it felt different was because he didn't really hate the boy. Maybe the softness intrigued him. Most newsboys weren't sweet and never retained their innocence. And he had to admit that the other boy wasn't unattractive.

"You don't look too bad yourself, guy."

The two began to drift closer together, both of them sort of trying to scoot in without the other noticing. Ike turned to look at the boy, followed the trail of his bloody nose down to his lips and the looked back up to his eyes. "You jus' gonna look?"

"What?" Ike choked out weekly.

Hotshot scoffed. "Just kiss me already, you idiot."

Ike threw all caution to the wind and began to lean in, where he was met halfway by Hotshot. The two of them desperately held onto each other. There was no stopping in sight until someone shoved the door open and they jumped away from each other.

"This is NOT what I meant by 'figure it out.'" Jack said, exasperated. Spot was peeking over the boys shoulder, an eyebrow raised. Racetrack and Albert were wooting and winking, while Mike just looked thoroughly horrified and tried to cover his eyes.