#that one ‘can I walk? no I can’t’ meme to be precise

[anony-man]

Watched Tom Holland’s Spiderman with my partner today and now all I can think about are the memes

[revvethasmythh]

can we get “oh, my heart is longing to be close to yours again” from the wip meme?

Incredible ability to suss out the one widobrave fic that was on that list 😂 And a chunky snippet because because I don't believe in short excerpts:

-

“I have to be honest,” Yeza said, getting the cute furrow in his brow he always did when he was about to say something truthful and a little bit embarrassing. “I hate big parties like this, Veth. I’m much happier at home with Luc than I would be out there. But you’ve got the whole gang in town and that doesn’t happen very often. So go. I want you to. Have enough fun for all three of us, okay?”

Veth was the one sighing now, like she had a thousand times in the past year since the two of them had started to settle back into married life. It was a little rough at times, she wasn’t going to lie. Two years apart and the whole mess of nasty shit that had happened since they’d been separated was kind of a lot to work through. Or, it would be if they’d actually taken the time to work through it, instead of spending all their time fawning over Luc. Not that Veth regretted any of that. Kiddo deserved all the fawning he could get. But they really hadn’t talked much since everything had happened, not really, not about the big things. But it was better not to pick at scabs, right? They’d never heal right if you just kept doing that.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll light up the dance floor for you, baby.”

He smiled, with an edge of relief that the decision had finally been made. “Can’t wait to hear the recap from Jester tomorrow.” “She’ll talk your ear off all morning long.”

His smile turned brittle and just a little bit of fear entered his eyes. “Okay, maybe I can wait.”

Veth smiled and gave him a hug, squeezing tight, breathing in that familiar scent of chemicals and powder and something kind of acidic that she couldn’t name but always made her think of him. He was a good hugger, and he held her back like she was something delicate, treasured, precious. No one else had ever held her quite like that.

They were still mid-hug when a knock sounded at the door, three sharp, precise raps on the wood that were as distinctive and recognizable to her as Yeza’s scent. She felt a sudden burst of excitement as she pulled away from Yeza’s embrace, followed by an immediate rush of guilt at how excited she was. She ignored that, though. She was getting pretty good at that. After all, her guilt had basically become a third person in their marriage at this point, and the last thing she wanted to do was have to look at it.

“Nice of him to knock, at least,” Yeza said good-naturedly. He knew it was Caleb, too, but only because if it had been anybody else at their door, they would have just walked right in like they lived there. Fjord had walked in on them one time in a…compromising position, and ever since he made Jester go in first. Veth had, of course, commissioned Jester to draw a dramatic re-imagining of the moment, and boy had she delivered. Veth had it hung in the entryway and for about a week Fjord flatly refused to so much as enter her home. She thought it was worth it, though.

[thunderheadfred]

🦅Hawks HC’s🦅

This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.

Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.

That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.

Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.

Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.

Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.

LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.

He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.

If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.

Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”

The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.

He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.

- - - - -

Dating

Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.

He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.

Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.

Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.

A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.

Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.

He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.

He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.

He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.

Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.

He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.

He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.

He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.

He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.

His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.

Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.

Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.

Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.

Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)

Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.

- - - - -

SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS

High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.

Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.

Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.

He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.

Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.

An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.

Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.

Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.

He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.

Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.

His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.

Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.

Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.

Spanky.

His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.

He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.

Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.

After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

what happened the first time Wes tried to crack open the Danny is Phantom conspiracy did he like, confront Danny first or was it all behind his back like, maybe hoping ground zero would be lost among the gossip and that Danny wouldn't find out who spilled the beans once everyone knew

I mean it obviously wouldn't work because nobody believed him and the gossip didn't take off very far beyond a few people talking about Wes being kinda weird

I should absolutely write a fic about this.

I am absolutely going to write a fic about this.

I AM RIGHT NOW GOING TO WRITE A FIC ABOUT THIS.

----

"Hey Fenton! Fenton!!" Dash came bounding over and threw a meaty arm around his shoulder.

"Jesus Dash! What?!" Danny buckled under the weight (pretended to anyway) as Dash gave him a surprisingly lighthearted punch on the arm.

"You haven't heard?! Wes has this total batshit insane theory, it's hilarious!"

Dash was in a genuine giggle-fit, Danny didn't think he'd ever seen him this merry, he was also starting to suspect he was going to leave this conversation being the butt of the joke somehow. Wait-

"Wes? Who the heck is Wes?" Danny asked, it wasn't like he knew everyone in school, like Dash seemed to.

"He's on the basketball team, you know, tall guy, red hair, threw a sick move at least month's game! You know, WES!"

"I didn't watch that game."

"Oh," said Dash, flatly, "Oh yeah, almost forgot you're a total nerd. Anyway, like I was saying!"

Dash grabbed Danny by the shoulders and nearly lifted him off the floor.

"Wes thinks," he could barely speak through his giggling, he even snorted a few times, "Wes thinks your secretly PHANTOM."

Dash dropped Danny back down as he doubled over laughing.

"Could you imagine?! You! You're not even DEAD!" Dash honest to god slapped his knee in mirth.

Danny went through an incredibly swift array of emotions in the span of about five seconds.

The first was fear, clear and bracing, then came confusion, how did he know? Had he seen something? Then there was hope, Dash didn't believe it, and if DASH didn't believe it, maybe nobody else believed it either. Then relief, he could roll with this, he could TOTALLY roll with this! Dash was right! It was absurd, it was ridiculous, it was hilarious, him being Phantom? What utter nonsense!

Sam and Tucker had been standing by his side at a Dash-safe distance, looking absolutely horrified. Sam looked ready to jump in and lay down a swift defence, but Danny gave a quick little low wave for her to stand down. He got this.

"Oh my god SERIOUSLY?" Danny busted out a slightly hysterical laugh, okay so he wasn't completely over the initial terrified anxiety.

"How could I- I mean what- WHY does he think I'M Phantom?! I mean how does that even work I don't-"

Dash clapped him on the shoulder, this was probably the most contact he'd ever had with him without being physically assaulted.

"I know right?! Like apparently he thinks you look alike? And he's all like 'But I've seen his eyes glow green' and 'they're never in the same roo-hoo-hoom." Dash wheezed and started hacking and coughing.

Danny carefully constructed a look of offence.

"Hey I mean, it's not THAT funny. Why couldn't I be Phantom! I know how to use a Fenton Thermos! Look I even HAVE one right-" he torn open his backpack and pulled one out, making sure to fumble it in a terrific display of fuck-uppery and drop it noisily on the cafeteria floor, he dropped to his knees trying to grab it but knocked it under a table.

A few girls standing nearby who'd been listening in started tittering, one of the guys sitting at the table snorted milk through his nose and Dash was just about on the floor in hysterics.

Even Sam and Tucker covered their mouths in an attempt to look like they were holding in laughter. Tucker muttered to Sam, just loud enough for people around to hear.

"I mean, he's our friend and we love him, but god that was painful to watch. He knows he's terrible at ghost hunting! He's got like, nothing but thumbs."

Danny climbed under the table, grabbed at the thermos and lifted it up as he crawled back out.

"See! See! I have a thermos! I could TOTALLY be Phantom!"

Sam walked over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay bud, I think you'd be a great Phantom." her voice was thick with her usual sarcasm, soaked in pity though it were.

Danny's ears burned in embarrassment, he might have been humiliating himself on purpose, but it was still humiliating, watching everyone laugh at him for being so weak and incompetent. He was grateful to his friends for pushing through their discomfort and keeping up the act, it was still painful, but it came with a wash of pure unadulterated relief.

Nobody believed this Wes guy, nobody thought it could be even remotely possible. People would talk about it for a little while, have a laugh, maybe there would be a few memes and in-jokes, but eventually it would drop off. People would forget all about it and it would be just another notch on the gossip mill belt.

Even if someone DID believe it, they could never admit it for fear of vicious ridicule, for once in his life peer pressure was his friend.

And then Wes walked in.

Once Danny saw him he realised that he did recognise Wes, he'd seen him hanging around Kwan a few times, and chatting with Star, he was also in Danny's english class. That was about as familiar as he got with the guy, they'd never spoken a word to each other.

Wes had a terrifying expression of seething fury ripping across his face. He was glaring at Dash.

"It's NOT. FUNNY."

Dash was completely unable to stand, it was honestly overkill, Danny almost thought he was hamming it up on purpose, but maybe not, his face was turning an alarming shade of red after all.

"Wes don-" Dash gasped. "Don't do this to me man, I can't brea-" Dash was gasping for air, trying desperately to hold down the giggles.

Danny could almost see steam rising as Wes seethed. Then suddenly that furious stare was shooting daggers straight at him. Danny shrank into himself, looking as small and helpless as he possibly could.

"Uh hey Wes, um, I've heard the news." he joked tacking on a nervous laugh for emphasis. "Uh, soooo," he tossed the thermos from hand to hand, nearly dropping it again. "Is this like, just a joke or do you really-?"

Dash continued to wheeze, Kwan was holding him up by the arm, muttering about getting some water to cool off.

Wes strode over until he and Danny were face to face, he was taller by a good couple inches, even more so with Danny making a conscious effort to appear small.

Wes jabbed a sharp finger into his collarbone.

"Don't think I'm fooled by this pathetic act you've got going on, I am ONTO you, Phantom." he spat.

Danny glanced sidelong at the table beside him, silently begging for assistance, they only watched in silence, strained faces trying not to laugh. A glance the other way to his friends, they simply shrugged.

"Um, okaaay," Danny started backing away slowly. "Uh look Wes I am honestly really flattered but, do we really look that alike?" Danny ran a hand through his hair and then pointed up at Wes. "I mean we BOTH kinda have Phantom's haircut."

Sam deadpanned from the sidelines, "Maybe they're BOTH Phantom."

"We should start marketing that haircut." Tucker muttered to himself, tapping something on his tablet. "We could make a fortune, are you any good at hairdressing?"

Sam shot him a look of disgust and did not dignify the question with a response.

"Don't play dumb you two," said Wes, flipping his focus, "You're definitely in on this!"

The entire cafeteria was awash with giggles by this point. Just about everyone had heard about Wes' theory, but were mostly convinced it was some kinda joke. Now? Now they knew Wes was straight up fucking delusional.

He glanced around as people laughed, at him. At HIM.

"It's not funny!" he yelled over the crowed, the tittering increased in volume. Someone across the room yelled-

"Hey if I get the haircut, can I be Phantom too?"

One of the goths stood up on her seat.

"I've GOT the haircut! Mom says it's MY TURN to be the Phantom!"

There was a fresh round of mirthful laughter, some kids wheezing as hard as Dash had been. Another few kids piped up above the cacophony, throwing jokes of their own.

"I've got a soup thermos so I'm Phantom now, sorry sweaty I don't make the rules."

"If I wear a Phantom shirt does that make me Phantom ALL the time or am I only Phantom when I'm wearing it?"

"I have an ass, Phantom has an ass. Conclusion: I am Phantom's ass."

"Tag yourself I'm the thermos."

"DO THE BUTTS MATCH?"

Wes had been trying to scream over the din, infuriated, desperate to find SOMEONE who would listen.

Danny gave him a pat on the back.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, The Guys in White once hunted some guy down because he had white hair, if a government agency can fuck that up then-"

Wes slugged him.

It wasn't a particularly solid punch like Dash's hits, it was quick and precise, Was wasn't a brawny guy, but he was lean and fast and had good aim.

Danny whuffed out a heavy breath as Wes' fist collided with his sternum and he collapsed to the floor.

Everyone in the cafeteria lost their shit, a few people screamed and one table of football jocks all stood up chanting, "FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT."

Tucker ran over to him as Sam stepped up and without hesitation slammed a fist straight into Wes' nose.

The footballers lost their minds, one of the goths stood up on their table screaming "REPRESEEENT!!"

Wes backed up immediately, crying out from the sharp pain blossoming across his face, he'd never been hit before and couldn't pull his thoughts together quick enough to throw a punch back at her, so he was taken by surprise once again as Sam placed a solid roundhouse kick to his stomach.

He had certainly not been expecting that kind of brute strength from her, she had incapacitated him swiftly and effectively, barely having broken a sweat.

One of his teammates hollered over the crowd and came barrelling down on the goth, she dodged without batting an eye and darted nimbly out of the way, giving the guy a quick kick in the pants to throw him off balance as she rocketed for the cafeteria door.

As Wes took a deep breath through his mouth, his nose dripping blood, he realised that Danny and Tucker were gone. The fight had lasted only seconds but Sam had run distraction well enough for the boys to take off without anyone noticing, a glance around showed Tucker supporting Danny about to exit through the cafeteria doors.

The doors opened to an out of breath Mr Lancer on the other side.

"'The Light Fantastic!' WHAT is going on here?!"

Oh they were all so fucked.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Preferences-Carving Pumpkins

(Author’s Note:  Ahhh, I had so much fun writing these!!!  I’m super excited for autumn, and I just needed an outlet involving our awesome squad

Warnings:  Squash being butchered, pumpkin guts....Oh, and some smooching).

Wrecker: 

   “Hey, sweetie?” Wrecker asked, and you glanced up from your selection of pumpkins.  He stood very still as his eyes flickered back and forth between two very large pumpkins that you were sure you wouldn’t be able to lift.  He stroked his chin in contemplation.

   “What’s up?” You folded your arms as you stood next to him.

   “Which one looks bigger to you?”

   You knelt down, dedicating several seconds to observing each pumpkin and taking mental measurements.  They were nearly identical in size.  “That’s a tough one.  They both look the same size to me, but if I had to choose which one I thought was bigger-” you pointed “-I’d say that one.”

   Wrecker stared at the pumpkin for a few moments before nodding.  “Yeah,” he agreed slowly.  “I’d say you’re right.”  He immediately knelt down and set to work on cutting through the stem with his viroblade.  Meanwhile, you had also reached a decision on a pumpkin, and asked your love if he wouldn’t mind picking it for you.  Wrecker was happy to oblige, cutting the stem with his viroblade and gently handing the freed pumpkin over to you.

   The others had already picked theirs and were heading over to the benches to clean and carve them.  You and Wrecker carried your pumpkins over to the nearest empty bench, claiming your tools.  Wrecker’s huge pumpkin took up half of the table.

   “So what are you going to do with your pumpkin?” you asked as you cut through the top of your pumpkin and proceeded to clean out the insides.

   “It’s a surprise!” he replied enthusiastically.

   You lifted a brow, but smiled.  “In that case, mine’s a surprise too.”

   “How about we do a big reveal when we’re done?”

   You nodded.  “I like that idea.”

   As you began to carve your design, it was hard not to notice the occasional chuckles and snickers as Wrecker set to work on his pumpkin.  Every now and then, he’d take a few steps back to look at it, huff out another fit of laughter, and then return to the project.  You were growing increasingly interested in what his would look like, but still kept your eyes on your own pumpkin.  Finally, both of you finished your projects and got ready for the big reveal.

   “Alright, on the count of three?” you prompted.

   He grinned.  “One...”

   “Two…”

   Both of you shouted, “three!” and spun your pumpkins around to face each other.  At the sight of Wrecker’s pumpkin, you burst into laughter.  It was a very silly face with big eyes and a wobbly smile, but it was carved so well, so precisely, it looked like a meme from the holonet.

   “Okay, that’s funny.”  You laughed. 

   “Yours looks good, ________!” he said, giving you a playful nudge.

   “Thanks.”  You turned to smile at him, and he pulled you into his strong arms.  His breathing picked up as he leaned into your space for a tender kiss.

   “I wanted to kiss ya’ so bad a few minutes ago,” he told you, “but I didn’t want you to think I was trying to sneak a peek at your pumpkin before it was ready.”

   You returned the kiss, lingering over his lips for a moment as you murmured, “well, you don’t have to worry about that now.”

Crosshair: 

   “Will this work?” he asked for the third time, though there wasn’t an ounce of impatience in his tone.

   “No, it needs to be more slender,” you decided with a shake of your head.  “And maybe just a tad taller?”  Crosshair backed away from the pumpkin he’d offered, eyes scanning the patch in search of one that better fit your description.  He knelt down, pushing away some leaves to reveal a pumpkin that was taller and thinner than the other one.

   “How’s this?”

   You knelt down beside him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to picture how your design would look.  It looked great in your mind.  Now, it was time to make it reality.  “Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

   Crosshair unsheathed his viroblade and swiftly cut the vine, detaching the pumpkin and handing it to you.  “There you go.”  You accepted it sweetly, unable to resist kissing him in appreciation for the gesture.  He hadn’t even questioned you on the design or complained once, only set to work on helping you find exactly what it was you wanted.  You waited for him to choose a pumpkin, which was a shorter process, before the two of you walked over to the nearest bench.

   You set to work on emptying the pumpkin of its guts, glancing over every so often to watch Crosshair at work.  Once in a while, he’d catch your gaze and notice the mischievous smile that you tried so hard to hide.

   He paused, straightening up from his task and fishing out a toothpick.  “What?”

   “Nothing,” you replied.  “Oh, uh… Can I borrow one of those?”

   He lifted a brow, but said nothing as he pulled out another toothpick and passed it to you across the table.

   “Thanks, Cross.”  You lowered your gaze, but it did nothing to hide the glint in your eye as you continued working on your pumpkin carving.  Crosshair returned to his project, though he still kept an eye on you.  At one point, he smirked at how absolutely giddy you looked.

   Finally, your pumpkin was complete.  You placed the last finishing touch, the toothpick, where it needed to be and stood back to admire it.  Crosshair’s was done moments later.

   “So, let’s see what we have here,” he said, motioning for you to show him.  You grinned and turned the pumpkin around, revealing your handiwork.  You had chosen the pumpkin’s shape with purpose.  It was the perfect canvas to carve Crosshair’s face into it, complete with the crosshairs tattoo over its right eye and a toothpick sticking out of its mouth.

   Crosshair exhaled sharply in amusement, his expression so cocky and strangely attractive as he shifted his stance.  “That’s a handsome pumpkin,” he commented.

  “Glad you think so,” you said.  “What does yours look like?”

   He chuckled, placing a hand on the top of his pumpkin to spin it around.  It had your face, and it was well-carved too.

   That’s a pretty pumpkin,” you told him with a growing smile. He met your gaze with amusement dancing in his.

   “Glad you think so.”

Hunter: 

   Hunter cut your chosen pumpkin from the vine, handing it to you with care.  “There you go, sweetheart.”

   “Thank you,” you said. 

   While you had taken your time in picking out the pumpkin you wanted, he wasn’t choosy and ended up taking the one closest to yours for himself.  Both of you went to one of the benches and set to work.  Apparently, Hunter was more interested in the carving part.  You paused to watch him take one of the tools and expertly cut the pumpkin open to remove the insides.  You found yourself resting an elbow on the table as you observed the sergeant, your pumpkin nearly forgotten altogether in the moment.

   Hunter caught your eye, smiling when he realized you’d been watching him.  He twirled the carving tool between his fingers and gave a playful wink.  Your face heated up as you pulled your pumpkin closer to your end of the table to begin working on it.

   “Need some help?” he asked, mistaking your momentary distraction from your project as uncertainty.

   “No, I’m good.  I just needed a minute to think about my design,” you said, which was also true.  “I’m not so helpless, Sergeant.”

   The use of his title in such a playful tone made him chuckle.  “Didn’t think you were, sweetheart.  I just can’t help it.”

   You rounded the bench to plant a kiss to his lips, and he welcomed your touch with arms going for your waist instantly.  “I know,” you murmured, letting him know that you took no offense.  “You’re just so used to helping everyone else.  I like that about you.”

   He exhaled, and there was no missing the slight tremble of his body.  You pulled away and headed back to your side of the bench to continue carving your design.  Every now and then, you couldn’t resist glancing over to watch Hunter skillfully carve the numbers “99” in a large aurebesh font into his pumpkin with the signature skull symbol at the top right.

   “Your design,” he spoke up, peeking over.  “Looks good, ________.”

   “Why, thank you.  I like your Bad Batch pumpkin,” you replied.

Tech: 

   “Are you certain this is the one you want?” Tech asked.  You nodded at the chosen pumpkin, and he cut the vine to hand it over to you.  “There you are, love.”

   “Thank you, Tech,” you said.

   “It is no trouble at all.  Now, the trick will be finding the right one for myself.”

   You knew how particular Tech could be about things, but you didn’t realize how seriously he would take the endeavor of selecting the “right” pumpkin.  Even so, you waited patiently, your own pumpkin in hand, for several minutes as Tech browsed rows of the patch.  You loved him for who he was, but it was hard to wait quietly anymore.  At one point, you had to set down your pumpkin because it began to weigh heavily in your arms.

   “What exactly are you looking for?” you asked.  Perhaps you could help the process along.

   “I’m looking for the pumpkin with the most aesthetic appeal- good color and symmetry are important.”

   “Oh, okay.”  You knelt down, pointing.  “What about this one?  It looks like the kind of pumpkin you’d see in a fall article on the holonet.”

   He followed your gaze, adjusting his goggles.  “I saw that one already.  It is indeed a good pumpkin, but still not quite what I’m looking for.”  You shrugged and kept looking, but none that  you saw were even as nice as the first one you’d pointed out.  Finally, you heard an exclamation from farther down the row.

   “Ah, I found it.”  Tech had been kneeling down to inspect it before making the commitment of picking it.  He approached, leaning in to give you an apologetic peck on the cheek.  “Sorry it took so long.  Thank you for waiting.”

   “It’s okay,” you chuckled.  “I’m glad you’re happy with your pumpkin.”

   Both of you went over to the benches to begin prepping the pumpkins for carving.  The rest of the squad were nearly done with theirs already, but everyone was talking and joking around, so there was no rush.  Tech chatted about varieties of squash for a few minutes as you worked.  He paused every now and then to admire your design out loud and relocate some of the tools closer to your side of the bench since he had a tendency to hog them.

   “Do you have everything you need?” he asked again.

   You nodded.  “Yes, I do.”

   “Good, good.”

   You walked over to his side of the table.  “Do you mind if I look?”

   “Not at all.  Mind you, it’s not quite finished yet.”

   You were amazed to see a little fall scene carved into the pumpkin, complete with a barn, a scarecrow, and a bare tree.  “Wow, Tech!  This is great.”

   “It’s still not done,” he reminded, as if that should make you less impressed.

   “It really looks great though,” you insisted, cupping his cheek and angling his mouth toward yours for an affectionate kiss.  That seemed to get his attention, drawing it away from fussing over what he saw as an incomplete project.  His eyes gazed at you softly through the large lenses, and his lips turned up in a smile.

   “I’m having... fun,” he said, arm tightening around your waist.

   “Me too.”

Echo:

   Echo cut your pumpkin from the patch swiftly, passing it to you, before taking a short walk down the rest of the row.  It wasn’t long before he found one that was decent-looking and knelt to cut the vine.

   “How fun is this?” you asked happily, carrying your pumpkin as you walked beside him on the way to the benches.

   “Yeah,” he agreed with a smile.  “Me and the boys did this once on leave.”  he chuckled.  “Jesse got in trouble for throwing pumpkin innards at Fives.”

   You laughed at the mental image.  “That sounds like a good time.”

   Echo shook his head, though a chuckle escaped his lips.  “If Wrecker starts throwing pumpkin guts...”

   “Knowing Wrecker, that very well may be a possibility.”  The two of you got settled at the nearest empty bench.  You glanced over to see Wrecker was indeed tossing some pumpkin insides in Crosshair’s direction, earning a grumbled “grow up, Wrecker” from his teammate.  You stifled a laugh and set to work on emptying your own pumpkin.  You and Echo worked side-by-side, absolutely content with the proximity despite bumping elbows often.

   Your heart sped up while the rest of you felt simultaneously relaxed at his side.  There was a happy calm that settled between you because you were simply together.  Yet, every time he glanced your way with that sure gaze, it nearly made you shudder.

   “Looking good,” he commented, pausing to get a better look at your nearly-complete pumpkin carving.

   With lips curling into a smile, you asked, “Me, or the pumpkin?”

   Echo chuckled.  “Both.”

   You leaned in to press a light kiss to your boyfriend’s jaw.  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

   He seemed momentarily dazed from the unexpected gesture, but he soon looked at you with a mischievous glint.  “Now, was that aimed at me, or the pumpkin?”

   You laughed.

   “I’m being serious,” he deadpanned.  “Because if I misunderstood, then this next part will be very embarrassing for me.”  He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in for a longer kiss, his lips caressing yours in a way that nearly made your knees buckle.

   “So embarrassing,” you murmured teasingly.  You separated to continue your projects, shoulders still touching.  His pumpkin carving was a typical face with triangle eyes and a gaping smile, but it was done very well.  “I like your pumpkin,” you said.

   “Thank you, m’lady.  I like your design too.”

   “Thank you.”

Omega at the Pumpkin Patch: She takes the process seriously, spending quite a bit of time choosing the right pumpkin for what she had planned.  The others were curious because she chose a pumpkin that was much wider than it was tall, and she kept it angled away from the group as she worked.  Anytime someone would venture over to check her progress, she’d quickly stand up in front of it to block the view.

After she finally beamed and announced she was done, everyone gathered around to see she had carved an image of the entire squad into the pumpkin.

[sunwoo-hoo]

↣ kevin moon ☽ as your boyfriend

↳ a/n: hello lovelies! here we go! this is the headcanon for the moonlight boy himself kevin! this is for you anon. I hope you enjoy it! please, if your under the age of 18 do not interact with this post.

↳ genre: fluff, smut, angst??

↳ send me your requests here!

↳ word count: 839

↳ kevin moon x fem reader

↳ General

COMEDIC DUO

your so lucky to have a guy like kevin in your life 

your relationship is very laid back and easy going

he’s the type who doesn’t care if you wear makeup or if you walk out the house in sweatpants

to him your perfect regardless 

your relationship is very effortless

it’s non stop laughs whenever your around him

he the type to text you memes while your sitting right next to each other 

“babe look at this real quick” he laughed barely holding it together

the type to do a double date with jacob and his s/o 

but you also have one on one dates which include late night driving blasting your favorite music singing together

would probably eat at a late night drive thru 

family is really important to kevin so he would definitely want to show you where he grew up in vancouver 

meeting his family in the process

his love language is definitely words of affirmation

he loves it when you tell him he’s doing a good job or when you leave little notes for him to find 

he greatly appreciates you

he’s definitely teaching you how to play piano 

at first you think he’s going to teach you classical pieces but it’s literally all beyonce 

he’s always singing all of me to you by john legend

he loves it when you kiss his nose finding it adorable

he’s then giving you all the jawline kisses

you love stealing his clothes especially his hoodies because it smells like him

he doesn’t mind at all in fact he encourages you to wear his clothes

he secretly loves to draw you when you aren’t looking

you have the type of relationship where everyone thinks your similar to each other 

basically the boy/girl version of each other

your two peas in pod 

together your both unstoppable there’s nothing you can’t do

↳ Fights

kevin is big on communicating so he’ll probably want to have a rational discussion before things escalate too quickly into a fight

he’s also not the type to waste his energy over the little things

so fighting with him is rare to nonexistent 

the only time you do ‘fight’ it’s probably because he’s saying something sarcastic and hurt your feelings without realizing

“damn babe, you know i was just joking right? i didn’t mean for it to come out that way. can you forgive me?” he pouted

you rolled eyes playfully before replying “ugh fine..” you teased sticking your tongue out 

next thing you know he’s giving you all the tickles by your ribs while your laughing uncontrollably 

↳ Making Up

if the fight was somewhat bad he’s definitely the type to try to laugh about it afterwards with you

or is finding ways to make you laugh like watching funny youtube compilations that may or may not include animals

he’s definitely cuddling you giving you all neck and cheek kisses 

playing with your hair

↳ Sex

switch™ 2.0 

definitely the type to have music in the background while you two are fucking

he secretly loves it when you dom him because he loves giving all the power to you

definitely tie him up and give him the teasing blowjobs

“fuck babe, don’t tease me i need you right now, please..” he moaned

he loves it when your on top because he can grab your hips and thrust in a precise angle which hits your g-spot perfectly making you cum 

you hear all the praise coming from him 

“yeah fuck, hop on my cock.. just like that.. your doing such a good job” 

you’ll definitely have toys in the bedroom kevin is not afraid to experiment 

he loves it when you pull his hair especially when he’s fucking you, please give him all the praise back 

“god kevin i-i’m gonna cum soon your so fucking big” you cried out 

he’s in love with your breasts so expect a lot of breast fucking with his cock between them

when kevin dom’s he’s an entirely different person 

will usually dom when he’s feeling stressed or overworked 

praise goes out the window it’s nothing but dirty talk

“get on your fucking knees and suck this cock” he snapped

“yes sir” you replied looking up at him with doe eyes

definitely will have some light choking covering your mouth to muffle your moans 

as he’s trusting into you deeply and sloppily 

he loves to cum on your breast or lips

when it’s all over he’s collapsing on the bed beside you giving you a high-five with a quick peck on your lips 

telling you that it was amazing and that he loves you

↳ Aftercare

your both cuddling for awhile not wanting to move from your spot until kevin suggests that you should clean yourselves up

your then taking a bath together just enjoying each other’s company

until you finally head to bed where he’s playing a lullaby on his piano in your shared bedroom waiting for you to fall asleep before joining you 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* © sunwoo-hoo 2 0 2 1  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[explosionshark]

22 or 26 with fuffy (shocker) for the ask meme?

I did both!

22. Caught in a Storm + 26. Tending an injury

Between the unexpected burst of rain and the rush of slaying, Faith doesn’t even realize Buffy’s bleeding until the fight is over and they’re walking back. She wants to blame the sensory overload of the weather for the fact that it took so long for her to realize something was wrong, but if she’s being honest, it has more to do with Buffy herself.

It’s just that she’s so annoyingly good at this, she’s so careful, she’s so precise — most times when one of them gets hurt, it’s Faith, rushing in. Whenever it does wind up being Buffy it’s usually Faith’s fault anyway - when she bites off more than she can chew and Buffy’s savior complex kicks in. But tonight she’d been fighting smart, mindful of the rain. She’s trying to remember to do that more, since Gwendolyn Post — be better, show Buffy and her little friends that Faith’s not a total joke, not some hapless rube. It felt like it was working, kind of. Buffy invited her to Christmas, after all, even if she’d ended up dumping Faith off on her mom and running around playing house with her not-so ex boyfriend.

And now that she thinks of it, that’s probably what has Buffy so off her game anyway. She’d been distracted when Faith had met her on the corner of Revello Drive at the start of patrol. Must be trouble in paradise. Seems to be a lot of that, with them. Honestly, Faith’s not sure what Buffy sees in the guy. Sure, he’s eye candy — but what’s the point of something that looks that good if all you can do is look?

Then again, she thinks, eyes sliding over to Buffy stubbornly trying to hide a limp as they slink through darkened trails in the park, maybe she can relate to that a little more than she’d like to.

“How bad did they get ya?” Faith keeps her voice light, careful not to lay on a guilt trip. Maybe Buffy will notice. Maybe she’ll think about it, next time she asks Faith the same thing.

Buffy winces but doesn’t try to deny it. She stops in place and pulls her jacket back to reveal a long gash over her hip, and a nasty red stain on her pastel blue top where the blood has already soaked through. Ruined.

Faith whistles low, keeps her face neutral, though she can’t control the way her heart speeds up at the sight of the wound, the way there’s this sudden urgent pressure at the back of her skull when she takes it in. It’s worse than she thought. It must hurt like hell.

“You should see the other guy,” Buffy jokes, a little strained, and that’s when Faith realizes how long she’s been staring, how she’s reached out absently to touch Buffy.

She snatches her hand back out of the air, shoves it in her pockets. “Don’t think you left enough of him behind to look at, B. Let’s get you home, we’ll clean that up.”

“Your place,” Buffy says, reaching out and grabbing Faith’s sleeve.

[continue reading on ao3]

[suna-rinn]

smut- sub!zhongli x reader

warnings: ...smut again

content: pegging, humiliation, hj, cryo lube was put in as a meme, kinda public?

———————————————————————

this... was not what zhongli had in mind when you had tugged him home, saying you had a surprise.

your happy face with an innocent demeanor didn’t lead him to this conclusion at all.

because he was currently naked, hair down, shivering on the balcony, as you were using cryo slime lube to slick up the strap you had on.

“zhongli, as much as i do love listening to your stories, it’s mildly inconsiderate for you to put off giving me any attention for a whole day... just to tell your stories to people who don’t appreciate them wholeheartedly, no?” you said, eyes closed in a nice, misleading smile.

you slowly slid the silicone into him, hands on his hips, as his back arched and his grip on the balcony railing tightened.

“hm? zhongli, do answer me, yeah?” you whispered in his ear, while slowly moving in and out.

“y-yes, dear. i... apologize for that.” he said, breaths heavy.

“do you get off on this? having the possibility of the people of liyue, being able to see their almighty archon being fucked on a balcony?” you smirked, lightly kissing his neck, picking up your pace a bit.

zhongli clamped down on his bottom lip to stifle a moan.

“please... touch me, i can’t-“ he gasped as you picked up your pace even further.

“touch you? sweetheart, i am touching you. do be more precise.” you teased, emphasizing your hands, currently on his hips.

“cock... p-please... touch...” he muttered, unable to form coherent sentences, mind hazy.

“hm... i suppose i can help you out a bit.” you sighed, bringing one of your hands around to cup his fully erect dick.

as soon as your hands touched him, he let out a loud moan, unable to keep it in.

“hey, hey... you’re gonna have to keep quiet, otherwise even the busy streets below are gonna hear you and look up, you wouldn’t want that now, do you?” you laughed.

zhongli frantically nodded in response, not trusting his own voice. he started to buck his hips back and forth, desperate to release.

you silently allowed him to continue, moving your hand faster around his cock, and once you felt his dick start twitching, you quickly spun him around as cum shot out, not wanting it to get on innocent passerby’s walking below.

you snorted as zhongli’s legs gave out.

“oh, dear. that was more than usual. let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

to which he could only respond with a weak nod and hum.

[more-than-a-princess]

@causalitylinked​ asked:  🥊 [ from akira in his danganronpa verse! ]

Nightlife RP meme

"You! Hey, you! Yeah you, blondie! I got a job for you, one that pays a hell of a lot more than being a ring girl!"

Puzzled, Sonia turned to the sound of the voice. The night had already been an adventure and, according to the clock at least, it was only beginning. She'd followed directions precisely: her car was to drop her off four blocks away where, on foot, she would proceed until she found the door she was told to look for. There, she'd held out a ticket to a very tall, very beefy man with a scrutinizing look who, after a minute of looking her up and down, allowed her to proceed inside. He wouldn't be the only one.

Her head had begun to swim at everything that assaulted her senses once she'd stepped over the threshold. Like Alice through the Looking Glass, but instead of Wonderland it was the strong stench of cigarettes and beer, neon lighting and flashes of gold jewelry, loud makeup and even louder laughter. In the middle of it all was the ring she'd expected to see, surrounded by everything she hadn't. That included a man, quite a bit older than her if she had to guess, in a suit that seemed two sizes too small, if for the way it refused to button over his belly. "Huh?" She asked, a bit inelegantly but considering the surroundings, she could be forgiven for a lack of manners. Especially as he held little in the way of manners towards her: his gaze seemed to be fixated on the bit of skin between the tops of her thigh high socks and the hem of her tweed dress. With its slightly puffed short sleeves and gold button details, it was as casual an outfit she could think of. It was a performance, which would often necessitate a cocktail dress at the very least, as well as a sporting match, but a team t-shirt and jeans didn't work: there was no team to speak of. Considering the rest of the women present, with their heavy-handed cosmetics, skimpy clothes, and very high heels, she was modest by comparison.

"Yeah!" He grinned at her, taking her inquiry as permission to approach her. Her confusion was...endearing, cute. The fake innocent act was hot with the right girl using it. "You don't need to walk around, wave a sign, pose for pictures, nothin'! Just spend some time with me: I'll take ya to dinner, shopping too if ya want, you just need to share your company is all!"

"Wh-what? I'm afraid I don't-"

"Oi! Takai! You idiot, you're gonna try to pick up a girl for enjo kosai here? You really are as stupid as you look, you can't tell she's not here for that?"

A hand, not one belonging to the man called Takai, clamped down on her shoulder and both Sonia and Takai froze. Her out of surprise, but his...well, his was fear. "Th-the Prince of Threats!" He stammered, "I was just offering her an employment opportunity, that's all!"

"An opportunity for a guy to use the money his mommy gave him to go to group dates to find a woman to marry to pay a high school girl to ride his cock because he's too lazy to fuck her proper?" Seiji grinned. Sonia was baffled: he wasn't exactly the most moral person but he seemed to be taking some pleasure in his insults. "Wow, can't miss something like that! I'm sure your mom will love hearing how you spend her money-"

"No! You can't tell her, she'll cut me off and my job pays crap! I'll never be able to go to a hostess club again!" The man wailed. It was common knowledge in that part of town: Seiji Amanome not only gave threats, but he followed through with them.

"Or I can share with him your plan for our guest here," Seiji's grin, if possible, had turned even more menacing as he gave a look and a nod in Akira's direction. Something that he was sure his best friend wouldn't miss: one, that Sonia was being harassed. Two, that he was handling it. And three, that he was handling it in a way that amused him greatly and that Akira would owe him later. "Yeah, you know Akira? The guy your boss's prize fighter is going up against tonight? The one with the better odds of knocking that guy flat out? I'm sure he'd be game for a practice round on you. He's not going to appreciate what you've propositioned to her at all."

The sound Takai made was pitiful, a mix of a squeak and a whimper. Despite his massive girth, he looked completely deflated.

"Here's a tip: try finding your cock first before using it, you fat fuck," Seiji snickered before steering a bewildered Sonia away from him and towards the side of the ring. He'd done a good deed, though it was mostly for Akira's sake though he'd never admit it.

"What on Earth was that?" Sonia finally managed to get out as Seiji finally let go of her shoulder. "He wanted to offer me money to date him?"

"Not date, fuck him," Seiji corrected her with a dispassionate tone, his eyes wandering to the woman behind the bar. She looked as if she were in her late twenties or early thirties, and tired of the various pickup lines she was currently forced to endure. "That or trying to recruit you to work at a Soapland: he manages one of the many his boss owns. But I don't think sucking dicks until your jaw aches suits you, does it Princess?"

Sonia flinched, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. At least Seiji didn't try to sugarcoat the reality of what she'd wandered into, but he had a way of making everything far more uncomfortable than it needed to be. He behaved himself in front of Ami, but everyone else seemed to be fair game. "Please, I really insist that you not refer to me by title," She said quietly, "It's not necessary."

But Seiji didn't seem inclined to listen to her request. Instead he beckoned over his best friend with a smile: a devious smile, but a smile nevertheless. "I can't believe you invited her to a place like this, Akira: she's going to get mistaken for a girl here to make some money if you're not careful! But fortunately, you've got a knight in shining Gucci to look after her." He was likely referring to his leather shoes and belt as he smirked. "Maybe I should take a larger cut of your winnings tonight, for my good deeds and all..."

"Hold on, how do you know Kijima-san will win? And hello, by the way," Sonia asked before remembering her manners, greeting him with a wary smile. She now clearly understood the situation and how much she stood out: not only was she the only foreigner, she was the only woman without a tan and breast implants.

"Because he's the best. And the last time he faced this guy, he peed his pants before passing out eight minutes in," Seiji replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll leave you two to chat before the match starts. Someone's got to keep an eye on the Princess, though."

It was both a courtesy, and the fact that Seiji had seemingly found himself thirsty after coming to her rescue. That, or he wanted to chat with the bartender. Sonia shook her head and set her hands on the edge of the ring: it was tall enough that, at her height, she could just about rest her chin on the edge. "So this is your talent?" She asked, her curiosity now winning out over her discomfort. "It seems rather exciting! And violent. And perhaps dangerous, I am grateful to Amanome-san for stepping in when he did."

[thepartyresponsible]

For the Trope Mash-up meme: 49. Fake Married and 99. Magical Accident, and Winterhawk as the pairing.

Look. Steve meant well. Steve always means well. But when you do a favor for an oddly frail old woman who nonetheless managed to maneuver her way through miles of difficult terrain to arrive precisely at the bizarrely well-lit clearing in the dead center of the cursed woods, you have to understand that what you’re doing is playing right into the overly bored hands of the alarmingly magical requisite forest enchantress.

And when the aforementioned old crone transforms into a beautiful woman with teeth like a snake and eyes the color of spring grass and then proceeds to flirt relentlessly, you have to navigate that situation with care. You have to give a firm but polite no, thank you. You have to be clear. You have to speak rapturously of your one true love and skedaddle, obfuscating your retreat with a torrent of flowery metaphors and very declarative worshipful statements.

You absolutely do not deflect. You don’t mention any names. You do not allow yourself to be rendered a stuttering, red-faced disaster by the enchantress’ marked disinclination to cover her natural glory in anything as demeaning as clothing, and you don’t trip over a tree root while fumbling back toward the road, and you certainly don’t call desperately over your shoulder, “Oh, no, excuse me. I’m actually on my way to buy a wedding ring. For someone else. I’m very betrothed. We all are. Well, not Bucky, although I wish— well, someday. Enjoy your…sunbathing. Goodbye!”

Because this is how a love spell gets cast so that Steve’s lonely friend Bucky might find someone of his own. And this is how Bucky spends every night for a week standing on his own roof with a broom, chasing off every lovestruck dryad and werewolf and hulder the forest can spit out at him.

This is how Clint Barton, who took one look at the assembled beautiful masses scratching at Bucky’s walls and excused himself on a long-term, semi-permanent hunting trip, ends up stumbling back into town having been accosted by members of the Wild Hunt, who were desperately seeking information about Bucky’s favorite color and baked good. This is how four local youths are nearly drowned trying to catch glimpses of the gang of naiads who’ve taken to strewing themselves attractively around the stream that runs through town. The naiads obliging fish them out, and so, naturally, the next day’s near-death total is fourteen.

This is how people get desperate. An entire village, terrorized by enraptured hordes of magical forest dwellers, fluttering and flexing and calling out to Bucky all night and day.

“Can’t even drown myself,” Bucky announces, grimly, on the eighth day. “There’s a siren in the well now, too.”

“I know,” Clint says. “She wouldn’t let me draw up any water until I told her your favorite song. Don’t worry. I lied.”

This is how two desperate men conspire to assault their homecoming friend and steal the rings Steve brings back with him.

And this is how two friends spend several days being loudly, theatrically in love in public, holding hands, sharing kisses, half-screaming pet names and increasingly strange compliments at each other until the dryads and werewolves and hulder and naiads and siren and all the rest pack up and go skulking back to the forest, downtrodden and dejected, outdone by a blonde hunter who doesn’t even sing and says outlandish things like Hey, Buck! Er, um, my love? D--darling? My—hey, you, just come here, there’s a dog, and he’s getting away.

But then, strangely, the rings stay on afterwards and Clint never actually leaves Bucky’s house and they still kiss in public, even after the most optimistic of the naiads have gone back to deeper waters.

And so, ultimately, Steve concludes he was completely right and correct to do what he did, and, in the end, he learns absolutely nothing. But the villagers learn not to let him walk through the forest alone ever again.

[simonalkenmayer]

Bullies choose to be bullies. Everyone deals with difficulty. Some even deal with abuse. Bullies choose to wrap their entire identity in hurting people who could actually be their allies, if they put aside the insecurity that makes them lash out. By bullying, they aren’t helping anyone, least of all themselves. Instead they are building huge architectures to explain why their hypocrisy isn’t. Why it’s alright for them to treat people in a way they’d never let people treat them, to ignore their laws, their faith, their stated purposes.

Is it really that bad, or do you need it to be that bad to justify how you treat people? That’s the question that the victim asks, that the bully cannot answer. To them shame and humility are the same. Humility is to be feared. Everything has to be a battle, especially the battles they can easily win, so that they appear to be bigger and stronger than they really feel. To the point that it becomes painful to watch. I see it again and again and again and again and they never see their own patterns, because they’re too busy being imprisoned by them. You can’t explain the pattern because that’s an attack. So they simply continue to live in it, alienate people, hurt people, break down groups, destroy communities, be either feared or ignored. And the saddest thing is, they almost never actually disagree with the people they target. They’d be on the same side. But everything has to be a battle, and no one can be trusted, and everything is a plot, and all defenses are acceptable.

Bullying is a disease. It destroys people. Like a carcinogenic chemical. Like acid. Even if they always win, they won’t win. Because people just let them win, so that they can walk away. They make themselves irrelevant and hated. They become ignored. And because no one will acknowledge them, they have to continue to burst into spaces they aren’t welcome, and bully.

It’s extremely sad. Just terribly terribly sad.

The internet is a limitless space. People can be who they are, without having to obey the laws of physics. And yet, the insecurity pulls itself out of the mud and rears its ugly head, and the disparities and trivialities of the real world, duplicate and replicate in this sterile space. Only it is much much worse. Trolling becomes a fun game. One person’s narcissistic pleasure becomes the goal of a group. People invert their weak and strong actors and take serious cues from people with only the barest of ideas of a plan built around control and causing suffering. The internet has done good things, but if you want to survive this century, you need to build etiquette online. Trolling, bullying, drama farming, all of that nonsense…it has to stop.

You will tear yourselves apart.

You can’t create spaces where learning is canceled and changing is a gotcha. You cannot create spaces in which bullies become leaders because of how well they tell you who is to blame. What I’m saying to you is, the way online discourse refines and rarifies communication, you construct the exact type of mind most susceptible to misinformation and manipulation.

You cannot let this happen. Right now it is literally at a tipping point to destroying the world, when a president can bully a child, or a senator can get play picking on a puppet and gain platforms.

Back when DNA sciences began to become very easy, I realized something profound. There were no laws forbidding a man from buying a PCR machine. There were no laws regulating what people can do in their garage. A person with enough knowledge can still to this day, but the machines needed to craft a deadly virus and release it into the world, and not one single law exists to stop them. But this is true of social media too. Memes and the way they replicate across minds tells us this quite easily.

I didn’t plan for the pandemic, but it became an organic experiment testing precisely what I have been worrying about. It became a catalyst for the exact kind of online activity that started me on this. The leader of the opposition to fascism posts selfies of his face dyed green by the caustic chemicals thrown in his face and gains marchers. Fascist uprisings and propaganda bred on Facebook by a company so corrupt it removed the failsafes to its algorithm to get engagement. People making social media posts to organize abortions for those who cannot get them because the Supreme Court wants likes from Trump’s Twitter rip-off parlor. We have wars being advertised alongside pharmaceuticals that health insurance won’t pay for. Climate change activists climbing coal cranes and posting videos to TickTok. A video of a man being murdered goes viral and triggers mass protests, and the opposition uses their hashtags to sow discord. People storm the capitol building for the first time in two centuries, and the FBI uses their own facebooks to hunt them down. People literally defy a deadly disease by advertising the ingestion of horse anti parasitic and toxic mud on tiktok. Elections being compromised by misinformation think tanks PAID FOR by revenue-generating farms like Five Minute Crafts. History being rewritten in cute memes and alpha male indoctrination. All online. All in your brains. All the time. In the palm of your hand. And one thing we’ve proven time and again is that the more a person sees or hears something, the truer they think it is, especially if it fits their latent bias.

This is not a joke. This is serious. Deadly serious. The human race ran out of battlegrounds, so it recapitulated them in metaphysical space. You can’t continue to treat it like it doesn’t matter, as if what happens here stays here. The bad guys certainly aren’t.

Online bullying is a gateway to extremism. It’s a precursor for programming the worst kind of people using the tiny computers in their hands.

Ask that question: is it that bad, or do I need it to be so I can justify how I treat them. Be honest. Don’t fight any and every battle, because the space is too large. Find the one you know how to fight and focus in. Understand what manipulation looks like and identify it openly. Identify the behavior. Target that, not the person. Let people change. Give them freedom to. Stop playing discourse.

TL;DR This isn’t a game. The internet is not a playpen anymore.

[free-falling-grenade]

Imagine Raya being all cocky once she accepts her feelings for Namaari, they are walking down the palace in Fang and raya goes "i will fight anyone and everyone for your love" or something like that, and Virana is nearby and says "I accept the challenge" and both girls are like :o *insert pikachu meme here *

HA. Omg, Virana totally would accept the challenge. AAA Here’s a mini ficlet for it: “I accept the challenge”

Raya blinks owlishly at the Chief before leaning in to ask Namaari if her mother is secretly a skilled warrior. But she herself doesn't actually know how well the Chief of Fang can fight. Never given the opportunity to see, so when she says that she accepts Raya's challenge, she's quite taken aback.

Namaari just stares wide eyed and shrugs because she can't tell if her mother was just joking or if she was serious, her expression too neutral to guess.

Raya stands there almost faltering from the Chief's challenging stare but she shakes away her fear and nervously nods, "So be it"

Namaari just turns to her utterly shocked, because she can't be serious right now.

They're right outside the throne room, at the bottom of the steps. Fang soldiers and merchants alike have gathered to watch out of curiosity after overhearing the challenge.

Virana just steps forward, and casually asks for the spear General Atitaya is holding. She hands it to her in a daze, not quite sure if the Chief will pull through. She fears for her well being. She knows how well Raya is with her fighting skills, having had the opportunity to witness Namaari's and her spars, and being offered to spar against her as well.

Raya draws out her kris slowly, stepping forward herself, a few feet distance between her and the Chief. She gulps thickly, "Okay. We're actually doing this. Cool, cool." She mostly says to herself.

Virana just raises an eyebrow smirking, "Don't tell me you are backing out, Princess Raya." She taunts as she weighs Atitaya's spear in her hands, flipping it around seamlessly.

Raya just scoffs a little offended, "I never back out from a challenge, Chief Virana. Especially not when it's for Namaari's hand"

Meanwhile the Fang princess stands there glued to the floor, the crowd staring at her, some expecting her to stop the two before literal blood is shed. But the problem is, Namaari knows three of the most stubborn people in her life: one of which is herself, and the other two? The ladies in front of her seemingly ready to cut each others throats out. There is literally no stopping them once their mind is made.

She runs a hand through her hair, keeping it in place as she watches Raya and her mother, who she still has no knowledge of how well her fighting skills are, position themselves into a fighting stance.

In any other day, Namaari would laugh at the comical idea of it all, her mother in her signature white dress, and Raya in way too formal clothing to be comfortable in a fight.

"Just a warning, Chief. I don't plan on holding back" Raya warns, if she's going to this, might as well not let her guard down.

Virana just grins, "I didn't expect you to" she says then charges, skipping the pleasantries. Her dress limiting her steps a little but enough for her to move around smoothly.

Raya, caught of guard, hastily blocks the spear coming at her face. She huffs away her shock, a playful grin coming to her face at the realization that this is definitely not a game. It's indeed a legit challenge the Chief had agreed to and she will treat it as such.

She swings her own blade towards the Chief, her mind consciously pulling back her strength, afraid she might hurt the princess' mother. However, Virana seems to sense this, using it to her advantage to nick the skin on her shoulder. This elicited a loud gasp around them.

Raya backflips away, glancing down at the cut. She looks up at the Fang Chief's face who wore a smug look, "I thought you said you weren't going to hold back?"

The Heart princess can't help the amusement to show on her lips, she now understands where Namaari's infuriating taunts came from.

Instead of replying, she charges with complete intention to hurt, not caring that she is facing the Chief of Fang anymore. She swings aggressively leaving no space for the older woman to strike. She sees her struggling, her dress limiting her movements as she backs away trying to block each of her powerful strikes.

Raya for a second thought to give her a break, so she swiftly pulls the leg under the dress with her own, tripping her backwards. She lands on her back with a loud thud, her white dress now soiled and damaged.

She doesn't notice Atitaya holding back some of the Fang soldiers who were about to step in and help their Chief. Namaari who's rendered speechless stood ramrod stiff. The crowd wore wary expressions watching their beloved Chief on the floor.

Raya turns away for a second to catch her lover’s gaze but she regrets it almost immediately hearing the shuffle from in front her. She fails to react fast enough, feeling the long metal spear swiftly hitting the back of her knees knocking her off balance then the edge of it meeting her stomach.

She huffs out in pain, mustering the energy to roll away quickly when the spear lifts again to hit her.

She doesn’t get time to spit out a witty retort when the Chief starts swinging at her with surprising precision and tentative strikes. The hits as powerful as Raya's previous swipes earlier. She blocks them effortlessly though, looking for a way to knock her out again but the speed is seemingly too distracting to even think of a way.

She grunts in frustration, deciding to put a physical distance between them instead as she uses the Chief's leg that's pushed forward to step on her thighs and jump over the tall woman. She uses the distraction to step back a little, recollecting herself.

She breathes out to calm her thoughts, risking another glance at the other princess who stood way too dazed and in shock to even glance at her back. She huffs out an amused laugh at her face. The Chief charges at her noticing the distracted moment, the end of her spear managing to graze the side of her cheek. She hisses out in pain.

She slides down dodging her next swing but as if predicted, the older woman's knee collides with her face harshly. She sees white spots temporarily as she falls on her knees disoriented. She feels the sharp edge of the spear by her neck.

"Do you yield, Princess of Heart?" She hears the Chief say sounding a bit too winded.

Raya takes in a deep shaky breath, her eyes closing. She exhales out with a grin, "Never."

She doesn't let the older woman react before reaching out and pulling her spear forward, letting it slice the surface of her neck lightly. She uses the close distance to throw a dirty punch on the Chief's midsection. She inwardly cringed at that, her mind still hoping she didn't hurt her too much. But her body reacting by itself, stood up to kick the bent over Chief that sent her skidding backwards.

She waits for a few more seconds to see if the woman would stand again but when she remained on the floor coughing, she walks over pointing down her sword at her opponent's throat.

"Do you yield, Chief of Fang?" Her tone surprisingly serious as Virana stares back at the Princess' determined eyes.

She lets the silence lapse between them, the hushed whispers of the crowd barely audible as she tries to find any ill intent and malice in the young girl's eyes. However, she sees nothing but love and devotion.

A tender smile graces Virana's lips, her arms lifting up in surrender, "I yield, Princess. You win"

She hears Raya's sharp intake of breath before seeing her sword clatter beside them and bending down to pull her up into an embrace. The crowd around them breaks into an applause, clearly entertained from the intense fight.

She grunts in pain at the bone crushing hug the Princess has her in, "You have my blessing, sunlight. But if you could let me breathe, that would be great" she manages to murmur out. 

Raya pulls back instantly, an apologetic look on her face. There are tears that brimmed her eyes, "I'm sorry"

"I'll be fine. You left this old lady pretty bruised but you are quite a fighter, Princess."

Raya bashfully grins, "You left me some pretty nice cuts too. But, who knew the Chief of Fang has hidden skills up her sleeve" “I’m no damsel in distress, Princess Raya. I am a well capable Chief” Virana states half heartedly. 

Raya snickers lightly, not doubting it for a second. She stands up offering a hand for the older woman to take. She willingly accepts, pulling herself upright. She staggers back a little but the feeling of strong arms catches her quick.

Namaari stands behind her mother supporting her. She shakes her head vigorously, a smile of disbelief tugging on her lips, "You both are actually insane and out of your minds"

Raya smiles softly, "Just for you, dep la"

Virana nods in agreement then latches on to her daughter's hold, visibly exhausted. Raya lifts the older woman's other arm behind her neck to support her other side. 

"Let's get you to the healers"

They help the beat up Chief walk, the merchants and guards bowing in respect as they passed, all of them beaming with pride and joy as if she had won the fight.

"You definitely gave them something to write for Kumandra's history books" Namaari comments eliciting a genuine laugh from the older Chief.

"The only time I don't mind being defeated" Virana tenderly says. The two lovers on each of her side supporting her. She really doesn't mind another daughter in the family. -x- This got so long omg. Thank you, anon? Also you can’t possibly tell me Virana doesn’t know how to fight. I doubt she’s all bark and no bite. That woman is hiding her skills coz she doesn’t wanna get her dirty. Should i post this on ao3 or just leave it here LOL

[mistaeq]

Hope u don't mind me requesting again but I was wondering if u could do headcanons for the crusaders with a reader who likes to quote memes or vines like when she's got an idea of some sort she's just like "oh yeah, big brain time" or they're in a fight with an enemy she's like "I'ma bad b*tch you can't kill me", I just wanna see their reaction to someone with that chaotic energy (sorry if this doesn't make sense ':>)

Stardust Crusaders: With a s/o who Quotes Memes and Vines

TW // none

Thank you for your request! I genuinely had a lot of fun writing this idea for these five dorky men <3 enjoy!

Stardust Crusaders with a s/o who's often quoting memes and Vines, had to be fem!s/o, but I didn't need to point out reader's gender while writing, so it turned out kinda neutral.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

KUJO JOTARO

He's annoyed by your habit most of the time, but he can't deny that sometimes the result is pretty hilarious, above all when you happen to do it when fighting against enemy stand users.

Jotaro was trying to figure out a way to attack without being noticed, to make sure it could be effective and quick, when he heard you whisper "Big brain time", and the second after, you suddenly screamed at the top of your lungs, yeeting your stand against the enemy stand user.

"YOU'RE TRYING TO FUCK WITH MY HOMIES RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?" screeching more or less the same way Stroheim would have done years ago, you guide your attack, your stand successfully making the enemy retire.

He tries to look annoyed and pissed, but you still managed to win, and he must admit he's a proud boyfriend. Jotaro is silently complimenting you, in his mind. Still, he scolds you. You acted in an irresponsible way and you could get really hurt.

When you see him so pissed over your behavior, all you manage to do is trying to ignore him. "Y/n, I'm not done with you." you usually shrug. "...Hi Not Done With You, I'm y/n."

Sometimes you both wonder how did such different people like you two end up together. But to be honest, Jotaro getting worried over you is something you enjoy, and seeing you so confident in your fighting skills makes Jotaro feel all proud and relieved you're not breaking down.

JOSEPH JOESTAR

He doesn't really know what these hilarious sentences are, but hearing you quoting them always gives him a reason to say he's in a good mood despite the pressure DIO puts on your lives.

The six of you were on your way to Pakistan, just before your fight with Wheel Of Fortune, and you were sitting right next to Joseph. Out of boredom, you both were reading the road signs, and you took the occasion to be yourself.

"Road Work Ahead..." Joseph read out loud. You snorted, and rested your head on your hand, smiling at him, and answering, whispering to not to annoy your fellow crusaders. "Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does." The man loudly laughed, scaring Polnareff who was driving.

Unfortunately, after that hilarious moment, you got really hurt in the fight against Wheel Of Fortune, and before even thinking of driving a kilometer more, they had to be sure you were okay. You really looked dead.

Much to Joseph's relief, after he pulled you up from the ground, holding you tight in his arms and caressing your hair a couple of times, you opened your eyes. And noticed his ones were almost teary. Did he get that much scared?

You immediately smiled, not wanting to see him like that. You pulled a thumb up, a smug grin on your face. "I'm a bad bitch, he can't kill me." the man laughed, tenderly kissing your forehead and letting you back in the car.

MUHAMMAD AVDOL

He knows what those quotes are. Avdol doesn't really mind them, he finds those genuinely funny. But he minds them when you fuck up your protection just because you want to quote those.

He particularly remembers that time you were with Polnareff, when a clone of Avdol himself and a clone of Jean's sister, Sherry, were created by an enemy stand user. He was watching the two of you from afar, just before joining you and saving you. As soon as you saw the clone of your boyfriend, you eyed at Polnareff.

"Are you telling me you asked for THIS thing, Jean? This is not Avdol, this is some flesh without his feelings! This bitch's EMPTY!" your strong stand picked up the clone, and threw him violently on the ground, over Polnareff's head. "YEET!"

When you did that, it took no time for the clone to rip off a bite of your leg, and you couldn't express how much it hurt. When you learnt that the actual Avdol was there too, much to Polnareff's surprise since he didn't know anything, you immediately scolded your boyfriend.

"You could come and help a little sooner... mother trucker, dude. That bite hurt like a buttcheek on a stick." Avdol stayed silent for a couple of seconds, before bursting into a laughter with you, kissing your lips. "I missed you so much, babe."

Avdol spent the following twenty minutes in checking on you and making sure you had no more severe wounds that could interfere with your trip to Egypt. He's pretty apprehensive, when it comes to you.

KAKYOIN NORIAKI

He totally knows what those quotes are and laughs with you on those. It's likely for you and Noriaki to understand each other and communicate through memes and Vine quotes. It happens to be useful to talk without enemies understanding you.

The crusaders have plenty of war flashbacks of you and Kakyoin acting weird because of those. For example, the time you were walking with your boyfriend, along with Jotaro and Anne. You genuinely tried to hold back from quoting vines around Jotaro, but as soon as a man threw a paper on the ground and not in the bin, you two screamed.

"WHOEVER THREW THAT PAPER, YOUR MOM'S A HOE!" that's one of the reasons that pushed Jotaro and Anne to isolate themselves from the actual Kakyoin and the actual you, being attacked by Rubber Soul afterwards.

Rubber Soul and his fellow enemy stand users were an infuriating thing for you and Kakyoin. Last time you had a talk together, understanding they were only serving DIO for money, you found yourselves pissed off. Like for real.

"We here not having the money for some chicken nuggets and still helping Jotaro and Mr. Joestar for FREE and y'all want a hundred thousand dollars from a naked vampire? Not gonna happen, Karen!"

You're able to bring out the loudest part of Noriaki, since none of the crusaders like the same stuff of this type the way he does. You often call each other "dude" or "bitch" - regardless of your genders, in fact you called him a bitch several times -, even if you're an actual couple.

JEAN PIERRE POLNAREFF

He doesn't really know what those quotes are, but he finds it hilarious when you say them, and gets interested in it, so that he can get the reference when you repeat those. He starts saying those too, afterwards.

It happened when you met Hol Horse, a fast, precise bullet coming towards you, as you and Polnareff moved a little, but enough for the bullet to get in the little space between you, leaving you safe and sound. It had scared you, you weren't gonna lie, and in both your minds, a perfect vine quote appeared.

"Ah, stooop. We coulda dropped our croissant." if that quote wasn't perfect to be said with your boyfriend... nothing else could ever be. You both laughed, as Hol Horse realized he was alone against two people, and before you could say anything more, he was running away.

Teaching vine and memes quotes to Polnareff is the cutest thing ever, because you know he's gonna use them sometime, with your fellow crusaders or with enemies. But he doesn't have a great memory, and will need your help.

"Next time you put your fuckin' hands on me, imma fucking... babe help." no wonder Enyaba was staring at you two with a scared and confused look on her face. "...rip your face off..." you helped him. "...rip your face off." Polnareff repeated. "...bitch." you added, whispering. "Putain." you choked on your breath, did Jean fucking say bitch in french?

Polnareff has no chill, if you're willing to risk it all for a vine quote, he'll fucking do it with you, no matter what. Jotaro wants you two dead.

[elfyourmother]

For the ask meme: 8 for Gisele & Haurche, 15 for Gisele & Thancred

8. What are their most prominent memories of each other?

This is a really tough call because they each factor so heavily in each other’s memories, big ones and small, but if I had to narrow it down to just one:

For Haurche, it’s probably still Gisele standing in that audience he granted her in his office, the night she fled there after escaping the Bloody Banquet in Ul’dah. The woman he had come to see as so vivacious and charming and clever was such a hollow shell of herself, disheveled and in shock--her gown was torn and still covered in Raubahn’s blood, from when Ilberd took his arm. Her voice, normally so vibrant and self-assured, was trembling, and her eyes were deathly haunted. It took everything in Haurchefant not to crush her in his arms the moment she walked in that way. (That came later.)

The reason it stands out so strongly in his memory is because it was such a turning point for them. Until then, he had been infatuated with her, and knew that he had feelings for her; the way he reacted when he’d heard she ran off to fight Shiva and his first instinct to go flying after her required him being held back by like 6 grown knights after all. But seeing her that way that night, so vulnerable and hurt and traumatized, was the precise moment he realized he wanted to protect her for the rest of their lives.

For Gisele, it was seeing him descend upon the Steps of Faith with Ysayle, when she was frantically trying to pull Nidhogg’s Eye from Estinien’s corrupted armor. She was in so much excruciating pain because the Eye was burning not just her hands but her whole body, essentially revolting against being pried out, and she was growing so weak and unable to carry on...and then she looks up and the clouds literally part and in the suddenly blazing sunshine she sees Haurchefant on Vidofnir’s back. It’s the sort of thing bards sing about when recounting legends of heroes (Far, far into the future when these lot are made saints, that’s the iconic image of Saint Haurchefant in stained glass.). If Gisele closes her eyes she can still feel how warm and strong he was with his arms wrapped around her, lending her his strength--such that it was, with his injury. But it was enough to save Estinien. 

So many times when Gisele was in trouble, Haurche was there to save her, almost from the very beginning of knowing each other--like in battle against the false Inquisitor at Witchdrop, or that time he came charging up the hill to rescue her and Emm from the Vanu Vanu. But this one stands out the most to her. He has rarely left her side since, only when it’s a low spoon day and he just Can’t.

15. Does their view of themselves differ from their partner’s view?

Oh definitely; Thancred doesn’t see himself as a hero at all, rather someone who gets things done, by necessity. But Gisele sees him as every bit the knight in shining armor that Haurchefant and Aymeric are, and despairs that sometimes Thancred seems to define himself only by his perceived failures. She wishes more than anything that he could see himself through her eyes. He’s been her protector as much as Haurche has, and for longer even--doesn’t mean any less that he didn’t take an archaic Halonic oath to do so.

Meanwhile so much of Gisele’s identity after she gets her memory back is wrapped up in grandiose notions of fate and her chronic hero syndrome that post 6.0 she actually sinks into depression, because what happens to the world’s savior when it doesn’t need saving anymore? Her entire life, going back to when Irving told her she had the potential to be the greatest Circle Mage in a generation, she’s largely been valued for what she does, and not who she is as a person outside of The Sorceress(tm). She couldn’t help but internalize that to a degree, it was probably inevitable.

But for all her accomplishments and fancy titles, for all of the remarkable things he’s seen her do, Thancred has never especially seen her as The Warrior of Light. That’s not to say that he diminishes those other things, far from it--he admires her greatly, the basis of his love for her is a truly profound respect--but he’s known her longer than anyone in Eorzea, and to him she’s still just Gisele, that pretty Elezen adventurer he found near the Sultantree, with the sweet smile and the sharp wit. And he’s determined to keep reminding her of that, that her worth is not in how many times she’s saved the world. But just for being herself.

[uncannyxmemes]

(   ★ .˚      𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐗-𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐎𝐋.𝟑    [   PT. 1   ]

★   .     sentence  starter  meme.     a  collection  of  starters  taken  from  marvel  comics’s  uncanny  x - men  v3,    issue  #1.     feel  free  to  change  pronouns  and  tenses  as  necessary.

“  he just showed up out of nowhere?  ”

“  is he in there?  ”

“  have you taken the necessary precautions?  ”

“  i don’t like this…  ”

“  this guy ever do anything like this before?  ”

“  you have no dog in this fight, as the saying goes.  ”

“  i don’t think anybody wants that.  ”

“  what do you want from me exactly?  ”

“  i want you to listen to what i have to say and decide for yourself if it’s true.  ”

“  i come bearing gifts.  ”

“  you said you checked him!  ”

“  i’m not here to hurt you.  ”

“  i think you know that my intel on this is solid.  ”

“  people on the street love him.  ”

“  you’re not telling us anything we don’t know.  ”

“  that seems to have gotten your attention.  ”

“  one minute he’s human, the next, mutant.  ”

“  i didn’t do anything!  ”

“  just keep walking.  ”

“  and you have the right to get your damn hands off him.  ”

“  that means back away from the mutant, guys.  ”

“  we need backup, now!  ”

“  how  ---  how did you find me?  ”

“  i’m here to help you.  ”

“  we should leave.  ”

“  you don’t feel that?  ”

“  wh–what is happening to me?  ”

“  we’re being hunted.  ”

“  you’re the one talking trash on the tv.  ”

“  you dared them to come after us.  ”

“  this is too much for them.  ”

“  i’ve kinda got my hands full.  ”

“  you need me here.  ”

“  do we go? do we stay? what’s the plan?!  ”

“  those days are behind me.  ”

“  i’ll just have to be more precise.  ”

“  what i’m describing to you is what you call a lucky shot.  ”

“  he has no control over them.  ”

“  that felt good.  ”

“  wait, you’re  ---  you’re taking me somewhere?  ”

“  that didn’t scare the holy bejeebus out of you?  ”

“  there’s no place for you here anymore.  ”

“  it’s cool, kid. we’re going somewhere safe.  ”

“  that’s your plan?  ”

“  no one’s trying to kill anybody.  ”

“  sentinels don’t grow on trees.  ”

“  he’s a broken man.  ”

“  i’m forced to live the rest of my life a pale reflection of my former self.  ”

“  it won’t take much and it won’t take long.  ”

“  i’m here to help you make this happen.  ”

“  the quiet is going to drive me insane.  ”

“  now it’s all gone.  ”

“  don’t dance with fire and you won’t get burned.  ”

“  i want to blame her for everything.  ”

“  i have no one to blame but myself.  ”

“  i betrayed him.  ”

“  i deserve this.  ”

“  how much did you hear?  ”

“  maybe it’s good news.  ”

“  we have to start from scratch.  ”

“  no one will help us.  ”

“  ee’ll help each other.  ”

“  what do you want to know?  ”

“  that actually seems like an honest answer.  ”

“  i think you hate yourself so much that you can’t imagine anyone not hating you.  ”

“  we tried everything else.  ”

“  are you going to stay?  ”

“  everybody’s waiting inside.  ”

“  are you guys back together?  ”

“  thank the dark lords.  ”

“  she scares the hell out of me.  ”

“  she’s been through a lot.  ”

“  we’ve all been through a lot.  ”

“  i liked being there because it was safe.  ”

“  you know it’s for the best.  ”

“  where did those things come from?  ”

“  they track us and they attack us.  ”

“  i’m kind of freaking out.  ”

“  it’s okay to be a little freaked out.  ”

“  how come none of the others are freaking out?  ”

“  show them. show them everything.  ”

“  this is the best news our people have had in years.  ”

“  you’re part of something bigger than yourself.  ”

“  feels pretty good, right?  ”

“  the future is in your hands.  ”

“  will i ever see them again?  ”

“  you’re not being held hostage.  ”

“  hell yes! this is awesome.  ”

“  just close your eyes and concentrate.  ”

“  words mean something.  ”

“  change is terrifying. i should know.  ”

“  what i wouldn’t give to live a normal life.  ”

“  none of us will ever have normal.  ”

“  she’s the smart one.  ”

“  please don’t call me that, it will stick.  ”

“  when are things going to calm down?  ”

“  the authorities will be looking for you.  ”

“  if we can help, we will.  ”

“  whoa! how do you do that?  ”

“  is she joking?  ”

“  i’ve never heard her joke.  ”

“  you won’t have much time.  ”

“  no, boy…i would BREAK you.  ”

“  keep an eye out.  ”

“  i thought you were dead!  ”

“  we were able to help her.  ”

“  we’re not ready.  ”

“  we’re nowhere near ready for this.  ”

[orange-waterfalls]

...Happy New Year?

Darkiplier x gn!reader x Wilford

A/N: I am so disappointed and surprised that I haven’t written anything poly yet are you KIDDING ME. Does it take me 5 months to write a single fic? No. Might take me that long to find motivation and SINCE I don’t wanna be an ASSHOLE who takes requests and then DOESN’T WRITE THEM I’m probably gonna take a bit to think and figure out what I wanna do here with the blog. Uhhh reader is a retail worker who’s just. Tired and stressed. Dark and Wil decide to comfort them because good boyfriends are good! TW: mention of weed. And suggestive phrases? Also cursing. That’s it. Rated T. Enjoy and have a happy New Year everybody!

Word Count: 2.7k

--

“Do you have to?” Wilford all but whined when you got ready for work. Except he did not whine because he does not whine because he is Wilford Warfstache, thank you. “It’s New Year’s Eve!”

“I’m fully aware what day it is, hon,” You said in a very soft voice because you knew Wilford had to be let down gently or he’d be grouchy for the next few months. “That’s why I’m not working overtime. Hopefully. Maybe I can get Sara to take over my shift, she’s not doing anything tonight. I wish I could’ve taken the morning shift, I do.” Darkiplier appeared next to Wilford, looking just as desperate.

“Can you not just… not… go?” Dark suggested, trying not to sound too needy. He knew that he failed by the look you gave him.

“I have to work, boys.”

“Do you though?”

“Wilford...”

“I can get you money.”

“Are you suggesting illegal activities, Mr. Warfstache?”

“We are not… besides stealing.”

“Wil.”

“We could pawn off Mark’s stuff, it’s probably worth a lot!”

“Both of you, stop it!” You said in a stern voice. They both looked like kicked puppies and you felt a little bad about it. “I’ll get home when I get home. You know I love you. If I never had to leave you, I wouldn’t. But I gotta, ok?”

“Kissies?” Wilford asked, tapping the tips of his fingers together. Darkiplier looked at the motion and back at his own fingers, seemingly trying to replicate it. You stared at his hands for a moment, watching the struggle with a resigned sort of curiosity. Wilford also stared at them until he couldn’t take it anymore and just put his hands over Dark’s.

“Just-Just… stop.” He said gently. Dark lowered his hands and they both looked back to you. You shook your head.

“I’ll be back before midnight. Order some takeout, please.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Wilford saluted.

“Goodbye, darling.” Darkiplier gave a little bow. You smiled warmly, walking over to the two. Darkiplier turned his head and you kissed his cheek. You tried to do the same for Wilford, but he turned his head back at the last second to catch your lips in a kiss. Additionally, he grabbed your face to keep you there. You pulled away and gently smacked his cheek before heading back to the door. Darkiplier glared at him a little. He stuck his tongue out in response.

“Bye! Love you!”

“We love you too, babes!” Wil called, wrapping his arms around Dark’s neck and leaning against him. Dark waved a goodbye to you. You shut and locked the door behind you. 

“Wil?” Dark said after they stood like that for a while.

“Yep?” Wil responded with his cheek squished to Dark’s shoulder.

“If you’re gonna cling to me we could at least lay down.”

“Cuddle time?”

“Sure. Cuddle time. Come on.” Dark tried to walk to the three’s shared bedroom, but Wilford wouldn’t let go. He quirked an eyebrow at the reporter. “Wil?”

“Yes?”

“May you… let go?”

“No.”

“Wil.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Wil…”

“No.”

“We can’t cuddle if you don’t let go.”

“Lies. Deception.”

“Wil, please, work with me here.” They looked at each other. Wilford slowly removed his arms from around the other man’s neck. Dark caught one of his hands, bringing his palm to his lips and gently kissing his hand.

“Someone’s feeling affectionate!” Wil exclaimed. Dark intertwined their fingers and gave his hand a squeeze before finally walking to the room.

The bedroom had mostly shades of black, white, and blue decor, apart from the fluffy red pillows you just had to have, along with a few stuffed animals. Darkiplier had his office with his red and black velvet and Wilford had his own… wherever he hung out, so they didn’t mind you choosing the colors. Anything to stop Wilford from painting the walls yellow of all colors. 

Wilford turned around and pulled Dark in by his waist, swaying in a little dance. 

“What are you doing?” Dark tried and failed to conceal his smile and laugh.

“Dancing with my lover, what does it look like?” Wilford nuzzled their noses together.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle.”

“I do.”

“Then why are we dancing?”

“Can’t we just dance for a bit?” Darkiplier pulled back and looked at Wil, who was currently avoiding eye contact. He sighed.

“Feels a little weird without Y/N?” He asked. Wilford hummed, still not looking him in the eye. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.”

“We can wait until they get home, it’s really not--”

“I do want to…”

“But?”

“Mm…”

“Want to prove you aren’t absolutely whipped?”

“Excuse you?!”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I am-- You-- Wilford Warfstache simps for NOBODY!”

“Says Mr. Hundred Dollar Pillows.”

“Listen here you son of a bitch--” Wilford backed away and held up a finger to explain exactly why he was no simp. Dark took the opportunity to push him onto the bed. “Ooh! Frisky!”

“Shut it.” He climbed into the bed next to him. Wilford draped himself across Dark’s chest, nuzzling into him. They sighed contentedly. 

“Dark?”

“Mm?”

“What did I do to deserve you two?”

“Me? You were nice and accepting. I still don’t believe either of us deserve Y/N.”

“Oh, come on, there has to be something.”

“Wil, both of us have killed multiple people. I think whatever good we’ve done will get canceled out.”

“...right.”

They lay like that for a bit, enjoying just being there. Suddenly, Wilford picked his head up.

“What’s happening? You have a look? What is that look?” Dark furrowed his eyebrows.

“I have the best idea!” Wilford jumped up and ran to the closet.

“What?” Dark sat up.

“We are surprising our lover with romance!” He threw Dark’s suit at him, picking out his own at the same time.

“...and suits?”

“Yes! Well, your suit. It makes you look sexy.”

“Wil.”

“Their words, not mine!”

“Why are we--”

“It’s New Year’s, Dark! They’re stressed! They’re tired! They deserve a surprise! Where the Devil are my suspenders?”

“Wil, I don’t think--”

“That’s right, Dark. You don’t think. You can just sit there and look pretty while Wilford Lovemaster Warfstache plans it out!”

“Lovemaster?”

“I was due for a new middle name anyways. Chop chop!”

Dark hesitantly put on his suit while Wilford looked for his suspenders. He looked in the mirror, deciding whether he looked… “sexier” with or without a tie. He eventually decided without, even popping a few buttons of his dress shirt. Wilford walked back in, wearing a hot pink button up, yellow suspenders, and a blue bowtie.

“...hot!” He said before walking up next to Dark and taking a selfie of the two. Dark looked over his shoulder and watched him send it to you with the caption ‘your two special boys!’. He caught a look at some previous messages.

“Wil, what’s poggers?”

“New-fangled lingo, don’t worry about it. Do we have roses? Ask Illinois to bring us roses.”

“Wil, what is happening.”

“ROMANCE!” He yelled, exasperated. “Romance is happening, Dark.”

“Romance… right.”

“And suits, precisely. Come on, order Chinese from that place they like.”

“...is this a good idea? Suits and chinese?”

“It’s a fantastic idea, now order the goddamn food.”

--

Darkiplier and Wilford sat on the couch in your apartment, reading a book they’d found. Wil was leaning on Dark’s shoulder with one leg draped over his. There was a little time until New Year’s, and they really wanted to spend it with you. Dark would never admit it, but he missed you. Quite a lot, actually. You’ve weaseled your way into his heart and now he’s a little dependent. Wil would proudly scream it to the world if he could. Dark would never let him.

Dark glanced up at the clock, seeing the 11:00 time. He scowled, closing the book and tossing it to the other side of the couch. He leaned his head back and sighed. He debated calling you with Wilford beforehand, maybe even just to hear your voice on the voicemail, but he was sure that would be too needy of him. He has a reputation to uphold, thank you very much.

“Miss your other lover, Darkipoo?” Wilfor teased.

“Obviously. I’m used to two heat sources, not one.”

“Oh, am I not good enough for Mr. Darkiplier?”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinkin’ it.”

“You can’t read minds, Wil, stick to your interviews.” He said in a faux-mocking manner. They smiled at each other.

Dark shot up from the couch the moment he heard your key in the lock. He adjusted his suit, squared his shoulders, and cleared his throat. He couldn’t help a smile as he held a white rose, Wilford doing the same as he held a pink one.

So, of course, they jumped a little when you slammed the door behind you.

“Uh. Darling? Are you--”

“I fucking hate EVERYTHING!” You yelled. Dark blinked. He glanced at WIlford, who looked just as surprised. You paced around the living room, looking like you were about to commit murder. He shuffled closer to Wilford, and leaned in.

“Wil, what are we supposed to do?” He whispered.

“Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.” Wilford said in a voice that told Dark he was quoting something.

“Wil, I don’t know what the fuck that is.”

“It-It’s a meme-Do you just not go on the internet? Ever? Nevermind, just follow my lead.” He grabbed the roses, putting them in a nearby cup of water. He walked over to where you were and gently grabbed your shoulders. “Here, darling, sit, tell us about it.” 

He led you to the couch and sat you down, sitting next to you. He snapped his fingers at Dark, pointing to your shoulders. Dark hesitantly walked over and started to massage your shoulders. You sighed a little, relaxing. Wil nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

“There were so many assholes today, man.”

“Mm-hm. Tell Wilford about it.”

“There was this guy who kept asking where this one thing that we didn’t have was, this lady kept insisting her coupons were not expired, don’t even get me started on Jared and Melissa.” 

“Who are Jared and Melissa?” Dark asked.

“Oh, FUCK Jared and Melissa!” You suddenly got to your feet again and started pacing again.

“Y-Yeah, fuck Jared and Melissa!” Wil agreed. “Who are Jared and Melissa?”

“Hell if I know, just go with it, I’ll get the takeout.” Dark patted him on the back.

“Angel wasn’t even there to talk to today, God, I miss them so much already.”

“Angel is the coworker who…”

“Oh, they have the cats, Socks and Mittens.”

“Oh, so Angie--”

“Angie is Angelo, and he smokes weed in the back. He’s cool too. He was too high to fucking function today, though.”

“So, uh, where was Angel?” Wil looked back into the kitchen and saw Dark loading up their plates with the food. Wil suddenly remembered that he was wearing a pink shirt. He didn’t know whether the stains would be prominent and he did not intend to find out. He snuck away into the bedroom to change. Suits were a bad idea, he should’ve listened to Dark. 

He changed into a T-shirt with the design of a suit and some grey sweatpants and somehow made his way back to the living room before you’d finished your first sentence. You noticed this, because you stared at his change of clothes.

“...weren’t you wearing a suit? Like an actual one?”

“No.”

“But-”

“I wasn’t.”

“You sent me a picture.”

“The, uh… suits were… part of a different… situation…” He said, not knowing what the fuck he was actually saying to you. You seemed to get something from it because you said:

“Ah. I see.” Before going back to your rant. Wil looked at Dark as he walked into the living room. He wasn’t wearing the suit jacket, only the black dress shirt. He also had black pants instead of the white ones.

Wilford nodded and whispered “Good choice.” Dark nodded and whispered “I told you so.”, so Wilford flipped him off. Dark sat the plates down while Wil pushed you down by your shoulders. You buried your face in your hands and groaned. Wil rubbed a hand up and down your back while Darkiplier poured drinks. You rubbed your face before leaning back and letting them drop. You looked down at the food. Then at Wilford. Then at Dark.

“Am I… missing something?” You said in a small voice.

“Hm?” Wil tilted his head at you.

“I feel like something was supposed to happen. Did I ruin your plans?” You frowned, starting to feel guilty. 

“No, no, darling, you couldn’t ruin anything.” Wilford shifted closer to you and put his arm around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arm.

“You sure? It feels like something I could do…”

“You could never because anything involving you is perfect.” Dark whispered after he gently took your chin in his hand and turned you towards him.

“Booooooo.” Wil called.

“Wha?”

“That was so cheesy, Dark.” You smiled.

“So sappy. Disgusting.” Wil agreed.

“Shameful.” You both shook your heads.

“Both of you can fuck off.” Dark huffed and crossed his arms. You kissed him, gently holding his face in your hands, making him smirk.

“Hey! How come the edgy one gets a kiss kiss!”

“You tricked me this morning, no kiss kiss for you!”

“Dark! Tell them!”

“You heard them, no kiss kiss.”

“Wh-”

“Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t we eat and watch shitty rom coms!”

“Don’t you wanna watch the clock?” Dark asked.

“Not particularly…” You looked down and the smile left your face. Wilford and Dark gave each other a look before they each took one of your hands and squeezed them.

“Ok. We can do that.”

--

The three of you laid in bed, you and Wilford cuddling into either side of Dark. Countdown forgotten, already passed a while ago. Dark still had his dress shirt and you were still wearing your work clothes. Dark stared at the ceiling, focusing on the sounds around his. 

The fireworks outside.

The clock ticking rhythmically.

The soft and constant breathing from his two favorite people.

He took a deep breath and tried his best to push down all the bad and intrusive thoughts.

What if I hurt them? What if they decide I’m not good enough? What if I’m not good enough?

No. No ‘what if’s. That doesn’t matter. What matters is they love him and he loves them. 

He looked down at you, your soft face squished into his arm, and he smiled at the warmth that bloomed throughout his chest. He looked over at Wilford and sucked in a breath when he found him staring at Dark.

“...can’t sleep?” Wilford said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

“No, I just…” He took a deep breath. “I just…”

“Wha happened?” You slurred, waking up. Dark flinched.

“Both of you should go back to sleep.”

“Why’re you awake then?” Wilford challenged.

“I was just… thinking.”

“About?” You yawned.

“About… how much I… love you two.” Both you and Wilford froze and Dark’s breathing sped up, scared he’d done something wrong.

“Awww, he wuvs us!” Wil giggled.

“How much do you wuv us, Dark?” You crossed your arms on his chest, resting your cheek against them and looking at Dark.

“...a lot.” He monotoned, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you wuv us soooo much?” Wilford batted his eyelashes.

“I’m starting to love you less and less.” Dark growled.

“Awwww he does!” You laughed

“Go. Back. To. Sleep. Please.” Darkiplier begged because Darkiplier does apparently beg, who would’ve thought.

“Yessir…” you said, another yawn taking over the word. You got back into your previous position, your arms gripping his and pressed into his side. Wilford took a similar one, just a little further up. You fell back asleep after a little bit, but the other two stayed awake.

“Happy you have both of your heatsources back?” Wilford whispered, a smile evident in his voice. Dark sighed, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of both his loves holding onto him like a lifeline. A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

“Yes. I am.”