#y’all sound like morons

[marshmellowtea]

ngl as a certified dark fic enjoyer i genuinely can’t get behind posts that are just pretentious drivel about how fluffier works are meaningless or inferior to more angsty works. like, maybe it’s because i’m also a certified fluff enjoyer as well, but it just annoys me to see people write them all off as silly or not as deep in the same way people who are annoying about dark fic write off all dark fic as misery porn or whatever. like. just because it’s not cathartic to you doesn’t mean it’s not cathartic to someone or that it doesn’t have deeper meaning period.

[rigginsstreet]

“Why didn’t everyone latch onto kali”

Maybe because she only had one episode essentially. Maybe that has something to do with it idk

[saveitlikesasuke]

The English: *create the word ‘soccer’ as shorthand for ‘association football’ and use it to refer to the sport during the time period they introduced it to the US*

Also the English: “ehhh we don’t like the word ‘soccer’ anymore, let’s switch it back to ‘football’ lads”

Also the English: “LOL Americans don’t know anything about FOOTBALL those dumbasses call it soccer for fucks sake and call a sport that doesn’t use your feet ‘FOOTBALL’ lol Americans are so dumb!!”

[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers Of Pandora ᝰ Day 7 - Makeup Sex

Artists — Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya!reader

Lyrics — You’ve been feeling neglected lately and you’ve tried to express your feelings to Neteyam but he hasn’t taken notice to your hints. When you make him listen and understand how you’ve been feeling he apologizes and makes it up to you in the best way possible, with sex.

Music Advisory — nsfw content, porn w/ plot, suggestive/allusions to sex, light angst, caught masturbation scene (reader), Olo’eyktan!Neteyam, arguing, light/implied neglect

Duration — 2.4k words

Index — Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader • Yerik - Hexapede • skxawng - moron • yawntutsyìp - darling; little loved one • Yawntu - beloved person; lover; loved one

Words from Artist — This was a fun fic to write, writing the argument scenes and upset!reader was my fav part! Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

Ever since Neteyam took over the role of Olo’eyktan he’s been extremely busy, trying to make sure the village is running smoothly under his ruling so it’s been hard for him to carve out time in his schedule to spend time with you. Due to him being so busy it’s been causing a strain on your relationship emotionally, physically, and most of all sexually.

It’s been almost two months since you’ve been intimate and it’s weighing on you. You’ve been subtly saying things and doing certain actions, hoping that he would catch your drift and realize that you want him but he was too consumed by his new position to read between the lines.

Today he finally has the afternoon off in a long time so you’re excited to spend some time with him, happy that you finally have a chance to rekindle your spark and hopefully gain the romance back in your relationship.

You’ve been making lunch for the both of you to consume for the last hour, wanting to make sure everything is perfect for him when he comes home so when the sound of the entrance flap opening hits your ears, you immediately perk up and a wide smile spreads across your lips as you add the final touches to the food you’re cooking. “‘teyam I just finished lunch and I made your favorites!” You turn around to face him, ready to engulf him with a hug but when his bow makes it into your line of sight your smile quickly falls. “Why do you have your bow?”

“I’m going with the hunting party.” Before Neteyam came home one of the warriors told him the clan had an insufficient amount of meat stored and they need to collect more so they can be stocked for the next few eclipses and not have to worry about hunting for food.

“Can’t Lo’ak lead them? Why do you have to go?”

“Because, I’m Olo’eyktan. I have to lead them, it’s my duty.” Neteyam feels like since the clan is still adjusting to him as leader instead of his father he feels like he should be included in everything that’s going on in the clan which includes hunts. He knows that there are warriors that are more than capable to lead a hunt but he wants to do it so he can establish and solidify his new authority.

“But this was supposed to be your time off, you promised me that today we would spend time together.” You’re beginning to grow frustrated at the fact your mate is putting more of his attention on the wellbeing of the clan than noticing how this is affecting you. You know how important being Olo’eyktan is and how excited he is about taking over the new position but you just don’t want your relationship with him to falter in the process.

“Can you please just put the village aside for now and just focus on me?” You plead with soft eyes, placing your hand on his cheek, hoping he would prioritize you at this moment. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Your tone turns slightly sensual as your hand slowly runs down his chest towards his abs, making their way to the rim of his loincloth so you touch your favorite part of his body, the part you’ve been craving to have for so long. You’re hoping that a gesture towards being intimate will make him want to stay, especially since it’s what you’ve been wanting to happen.

Neteyam opens his mouth, about to speak but before the words can escape his lips a foreign voice comes out of the blue. “Come on bro, everyone is waiting on you!” Lo’ak shouts from outside your mauri, coming to see what’s taking his older brother so long to come join the hunting party. By the look in your mates eyes you can tell he’s still firm on his decision with leaving which makes you upset and roll your eyes at him, hating that once again he’s choosing the clan over his own wife.

“Fine, Neteyam. Have it your way, go be Olo’eyktan!” You remove your hand from his skin and begin to shoo him out of the marui, not even wanting to look at him anymore. In your eyes Neteyam didn’t care about spending any quality time together so why should you? While he’s trying to put together a sentence you push him out the marui and close the doorway flap and tie it shut, not wanting to hear whatever weak apology he was trying to muster up.

At this point you’re fed up, you’ve tried and tried to make Neteyam notice you, trying your best to make it known that you need him, that you yearn for him and he gives you absolutely nothing in return. You haven’t been able to have him pleasure you in the ways you adored, his hands running feverishly down your body, his mouth latched to your breasts, and his fingers clawing at your slick covered walls.

You miss those moments with him and whenever you attempt to initiate something he always says he’s ‘too tired’ or ‘too busy’. You’re tired of denying yourself pleasure just because he won’t provide it so you decide to take matters into your own hands, you’ll just have some intimate time with yourself.

—

After an hour of hunting Neteyam and the warriors were able to find a good amount of yerik and other animals for the clan to consume. Neteyam lands his ikran and begins to walk to your shared marui. He feels bad for leaving you home even though he promised to spend time with you for the first time in ages so while he walks his mind is filled with different activities for both of you to do since he’s home for good.

While his mind whirls with different plans and ideas the sound of light moans and whimpers pulls him out of his thoughts. At first he assumes it’s just some random couple somewhere in the forest that are having sex but he soon realizes the sounds are coming from the direction of your marui.

Being the skxawng he is, he doesn’t assume you’re doing anything sexual, he thinks you were hurt and in pain, even though your choice of sounds clearly say otherwise. He speedwalks to the marui, slightly pulling back the flap to see what’s occurring inside. When he peeks his head inside his eyes lay on the most majestic sight, your beautiful naked physique sprawled out over the bed, your finger circling over your puffy clit while every so often dragging your fingers between your wet folds.

Slick, wet noises are accompanied by your angelic voice as you begin to thrust your fingers into your sopping, dripping cunt imagining it was Neteyam’s cock stuffing you to the brim. “M’fuck ‘teyam!” His name rolls off your tongue like sweet nectar, as your fingers curl against your g-spot, making your brain become fuzzy with pleasure. Your body feels so good and relaxed, it’s been so long since you’ve felt something around your velvety walls or fingertips slightly pinching your nipples enough to shoot a wave of pleasure down your spine so you couldn’t hold back your whimpers or moans, or control how your arousal is dripping down your hands and smearing your thighs.

To see you pleasing yourself and chasing your high, arching your back, how your mouth hangs open when you hit your soft spot, how swollen your clit is from you rubbing it smoothly with your danty fingers, and how your starting to cream with each thrust of your hand, causes his loincloth to tighten from his growing bulge due to the sight of you.

He doesn’t know the reason behind you doing this act but he’s curious more than anything. He pulls the flap back and attempts to quickly walk inside and not make any noise but his tail has other plans when it decides to thump against the floor.

Your eyes open at the foreign noise and your eyes meet Neteyam’s, causing you to feel a hint of embarrassment from him witnessing you that way. You hurriedly grab a woven blanket that’s nearby and cover yourself up, trying not to feel so exposed. “Neteyam, what are you doing back so soon?” You hiss, not liking the fact you were interrupted right when your orgasm was going to ripple through your body and it was finally going to make you feel sexually satisfied, something you haven’t felt in a long time. When he’s usually with the hunting party he’s out for at least two hours so you expected to have more than enough time to satisfy your needs without him knowing.

Neteyam ignores your question and asks his own. “What were you doing?” He knows what you were doing, he’s not an idiot, but the real question he asked was ‘Why you were doing it?’ and you know that.

“It doesn’t matter Neteyam, just leave me alone okay?!” You stand up with the blanket wrapped around your body and walk to the other side of the marui, not wanting to be in the same space as him after what he did earlier. You’re still angry with him for leaving you alone, making you resort to pleasing yourself when he’s more than capable of doing it if he would just spend time with you.

“Yes it does matter, you’re my mate and I-”

“Oh, now I’m your mate? I don’t feel like much of a mate when you don’t make time for me anymore!”

Neteyam doesn’t know what you’re talking about, he feels like both of you have been spending a good amount of time together. Yes, he knows that he’s been a little busier than usual with him now being Olo’eyktan but from his perspective he feels like he makes out enough time for you, or does he? “What are you talking about, I make time for you, for us!”

The scoff that emerges from your throat is so harsh that it makes Neteyam regret his previous sentence. At this moment you’re so angry with him because how doesn’t he understand. First he doesn’t spend any real quality time with you and then he has the nerve to stand in your face and lie. “What am I talking about?! We haven’t gone on a date in months, we haven’t been able to sit down and eat dinner and have a real conversation in weeks, and we haven’t had sex in Eywa knows when!” Your tone is fierce and loud, thankfully your marui is in a secluded area in the forest because you know your voice is echoing and if anyone was nearby they would hear everything you’re saying.

“You haven’t touched me in months, Neteyam! You’ve been so busy with being Olo’eyktan you forgot about me and my needs, you put everyone before me, before your mate!” As you ramble on, finally releasing all your build up emotions that have been weighing on your chest, Neteyam begins to process your words and realization settles in his mind. He begins to think back to all the times he’s unknowingly brushed you off to the side.

Neteyam was sitting at the wooden table in the center of your marui, brainstorming new raid strategies for when the hunting party strikes against the RDA. You saunter over to Neteyam with a smile on your face, happy to see your mate after a long day. You’ve been waiting for him to come home so he could satisfy your desires. “‘teyam you should come to bed.” You stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders running them down his muscular chest.

“I can’t yawntutsyìp, I have to finish this tonight.” He says, weaving his head to the side as you try to place soft kisses on his cheek. After multiple attempts of trying to get you to come to bed and him turning down your pleas, you turn on your heels and sigh, sluggishly walking to your bed, without having Neteyam by your side.

Playing that memory in his head makes him realize that he hasn’t been prioritizing you the way he thought he was, that he’s been too busy worrying about his new position than his own wife. “Yawntu, I’m sorry. I now realize that,” His hand reached out to touch you but you jerk away from him with a scowl across your face, not wanting him to touch you. He doesn’t say anything in regard to your actions, knowing he deserves it for his poor treatment toward you. “I now realize that I’ve been neglecting you and our relationship and I’m really sorry. I feel like such a skxawng for not noticing it sooner, please forgive me.”

By Neteyam’s tone of voice you can tell he’s sincere and truly sorry for his actions but you aren’t going to just forgive him that easily, he has to work hard for your forgiveness, it’s the only way you can make sure he doesn’t put you both in this situation again. “Prove to me how sorry you are and maybe I’ll forgive you.” Neteyam thinks you are joking at first but when he hears the sternness of your voice he knows you are serious. He does want to show you how sorry he is and make up for all the nights he’s left you lying awake longing for his sweet touch so he’s willing to do whatever it takes to be back in your good graces.

He looks at the empty table behind you and an idea clicks into his mind. Before you can process what’s happening you feel Neteyam lift you up and place you on the wooden table, unwrapping the blanket that’s covering your body and letting it fall down on the surface below you. His hand snakes around your neck as he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, slipping his warm tongue in your mouth, beginning to make up for lost times.

Neteyam knows exactly how to make your body melt from overstimulation and cause your eyes to roll to the back of your head so even if it takes all day and night, even if he’s worn out from rutting into your tight hole, even if his jaw is hurting from eating out your delicious pussy, he doesn’t care if his body is sore and covered in hickeys, as long as his beautiful mate is satisfied and forgives him that’s all that matters to him.

Fanbase — @eme1hyst @o-kingston @erenjaegerwifee @Kaydoux @biaaaaaaaa1 @hikotaru @thisaintredwine @lexieeeeeeeei @that-gurl25 @Peanut713521 @anemonelovesfiction @32saucy-minx @rae @bigdikzaddy @laylasbunbunny @merlinbtch @morisim @btsiguess-kpop @sussybaka10 @galactict3a @shima @eyrina-avatar @headsincloud9 @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @yetanotherattemptatanaccount @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @neteyamyawne @neteyamsblog @deadgirlrin @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @makaylalovessmut

— all rights reserved © INLOVEWITHPANDORA 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[schrijverr]

Works Alone

When trying to pull the team together, Bruce’s ideas are dismissed, because he works alone. He goes home to his kids to pout about it.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Bruce isn’t pouting. He isn’t! He’s not even a little bit miffed, because he doesn’t want the Justice League to succeed anyway. He doesn’t trust them, hell, he’s not even a full time member, he’s only playing along to keep the others in check. So why would he care?

However, attempting to convince himself doesn’t mean it is working or not clear on his face. The second he steps into the Cave, Dick comments: “Someone is pouty. Did anything happen with your new friends, B?”

He sounds a little too jovial about the whole thing for Bruce’s taste, because despite what he’s telling himself, he is pouty.

“Ridiculous. Father would never stoop so low as to pout,” Damian sticks up for him.

Damian had been sparring with Dick when Bruce arrived, but is now taking a break to drink some water. Seeing the two of them work together makes Bruce both feel better and more prissy, so he just grunts.

“He’s totally pouty,” Jason crows, from where he’d been ruffling through Bruce’s equipment. He would gladly give Jason all the stuff he needs, but Jason insists on stealing it, even if he’s stealing it in plain sight, which is more closely to just taking it.

“Take it back,” Damian frowns.

“Nah,” Jason says. “You know how he gets when y’all don’t come by enough. I mean, you shoulda seen him when Dickface first moved out. Man’s a pouter, I dunno what to tell ya.”

“What’s B pouting about now?” Steph asks, falling into the conversation since she’s only just arrived to start getting ready for patrol tonight.

“We don’t know yet, he’s still denying he’s pouting,” Tim calls out, not having looked up from where he’s working on the Batcomputer all throughout. “Though it’s likely something with the League, since he just got back from giving back up.”

Heads turn his way and Dick concernedly frowns: “Are you okay? Did they do something?”

There is a dark, yet gleeful glimmer in Damian’s eyes as he asks: “Do we need to go out there and vanquish these super powered morons, father?”

“No,” Bruce sighs, still a little miffed, though his mood has definitely been improved by his kid’s banter, as well as their worry for him.

“Then what happened, old man?” Jason demands. “Stop that vague bullshit you always do.”

“Oehhh, Jason swore!” Steph immediately chimes in. “I’m telling Alfred.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Jason whips around to her, pointing his knife at her.

“Knock it off, I wanna hear why B is being pouty,” Tim interrupts them.

“Yes, cease this chatter,” Damian adds, a rare show of agreement with Tim. They’ve all been growing, Bruce thinks proudly.

“So what happened then?” Steph asks, rolling her eyes, though stopping her fight with Jason.

Jason luckily also lets it go for now, so Bruce can answer: “They aren’t working as a team. It’s just a group of skilled individuals now and it’s becoming a problem.”

“You’ve been observing that for a while, B. Why suddenly the long face about it?” Dick asks.

And now the embarrassing part, Bruce thinks as he admits: “John is trying to do something about it now. I offered my help, but he refused, stating that I don’t know how, since I work alone, while he has been in the army.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then, the whole group bursts out in laughter.

“What?” Jason wheezes, while Dick cackles: “He actually said that? Are you for real? Oh my god.”

“I’m going to loose my shit,” Steph snorts, Tim chuckling in the background.

Even Damian is looking amused, although also slightly judgmental. He disdainfully comments: “They are not very bright and must lack observational skills, father. Are you certain you wish to proceed in sponsoring them?”

“Yes,” Bruce sighs again. He’d already had that conversation with himself. Many times. “There is a lot of potential there too. Which is what makes them dangerous. However, out there is dangerous too. They can protect like an army can. Like we can’t.”

“Tt, we can take on extraterrestrial threats and some villains,” Damian huffs, obviously displeased. Out of all his siblings, he’s been the most vocally against the Justice League.

“The brat has a point,” Jason surprises him by backing him up. “I mean, between us here and those still on the streets or running late, you basically have your own little army right here. Just recruit Wonder Woman and I’m sure we’d have a chance.”

“You just wanna work with Wonder Woman, don’t you?” Dick says, sounding a little smug as he slides up behind Jason to make a kissy face at him.

Jason just pushes his face away as he blushes and exclaims: “Shaddup, Dickhead.”

“Yeah, shut up! That’s the most sensible thing he’s said all his life,” Steph hollers.

“Kids, kids, calm down. We’re not disbanding the Justice League and adopting Wonder Woman,” Bruce interrupts, wondering how his life ends up with him saying sentences that he never thought he would be saying.

“I never said nothin’ ‘bout adopting her,” Jason scowls.

“Cuz you want to kiss her!” Dick sing-songs.

“Isn’t she like a few thousand years old or something?” Tim asks.

“Also not marrying Wonder Woman. Any of you,” Bruce says. “Why don’t we all just stay away from Wonder Woman. And the rest of the Justice League, which will continue to exist and not fall apart because they struggle at teamwork. Maybe John’s idea will work. It’s too early to say.”

All of them are giving him a judgmental look now and Bruce struggles to not react to it. It’s always harder when he agrees with them.

“But Green Lantern’s plan is hinging on esprit de corpse,” Tim says. “And that will never work, because it’s a military mentality and while you’ve been working together, there is no real interdependence outside a few emergencies.”

“Yeah, what Timmy said,” Dick agrees, gesturing towards Tim.

“I loathe to admit it, father, but Drake has a point,” Damian nods and that truly shows that it is a hopeless mission for John.

“We’ll just have to see,” Bruce says, deciding to end the conversation there. “Now get ready for pre-patrol brief. We have a few open cases to assign. Cass and Harper will soon be reporting from their early rounds, so get suited up.”

There are a few groans around him, but his kids grant him the mercy of dropping it. They probably know as he does that this won’t be the last time they discuss it.

Indeed a few days later, Bruce comes walking into the Cave again, trying not to let the thunder cloud above his head show too much. However, he knows his kids notice, some sending him a raised brow or an inquiring look. Bruce is glad that he’s come far enough as a parent that not even Dick or Jason are put off by his bad mood.

Dick is also the one to tentatively ask: “Not a good training session with the Justice League?”

“John has us running drills,” Bruce grunts. “It’s showing us each other’s moves and how to play into each other, but…”

“It’s not turning you into a team?” Dick suggest.

“Yeah,” Bruce says, sighing.

“Esprit de corpse,” Tim sing-songs, walking by with a steaming mug of coffee that he went upstairs to refill, ready to start working on the case he’s in the middle of.

Bruce ignores Tim, knowing he’s right, and pulls the cowl off to card a hand through his hair. “We don’t need to run drills, but we need to do trust exercises, talk with each other, get to know each other better, be- be-”

He doesn’t know how he wants to end that sentence, but Cass does, materializing out of the darkness in her sweats, she says one word: “Family.”

“I thought you didn’t like the Justice League,” Duke asks. Luke is covering his day shift today since the last few days have been busy for Duke, but as a true Bat, he doesn’t really know what taking a break means, so he’s in the Cave training.

“Hn,” Bruce replies, thinking. “I mean, I do like them, I just-”

“He doesn’t trust ‘em,” Jason says. He wasn’t supposed to be at the Cave, but it’s clear why he’s there when Bruce looks his way in surprise. He’s holding a box of files, likely stuff he needs for his organization, Bruce wouldn’t know. They’re at a point where Jason doesn’t kill and Bruce doesn’t ask.

“What? Why?” Duke asks. “You fund them and go on missions with them. Even share intell and use them as backup, despite the fact that there are metas and aliens among them. Why do that if you don’t trust them?”

“’Cause he’s also paranoid,” Jason answers for him. “He’s monitoring ‘em.”

“But also befriending them,” Dick says, defending Bruce. “He just needs to vet them closely first, before he does that.”

“Right, ‘cause he’s paranoid,” Jason says.

Duke looks at Bruce, who sighs: “They’re not wrong. The Justice League has a lot of potential to do good and they’re showing they want to be that goodness. But they also have the potential of mass destruction. We need to be sure they won’t be a threat and that we have the right contingencies, before we let them in.”

“Like I said, paranoid,” Jason repeats.

“But trying,” Dick adds.

“And is stepping in to help them get better teamwork going to backfire?” Duke wonders. “Like are we scared we’re going to teach them how to destroy everything as a team? Is that it?”

“No,” Bruce answers, before the peanut gallery consisting of Dick and Jason can. “I offered help to John, he didn’t want it. I don’t think they’re willing to listen to my opinion on it, since I work alone, so have no expertise.”

Duke snorts loudly at that, then suddenly says: “Wait, you’re serious?”

Bruce grunts as conformation.

“Why?” Duke asks.

“Paranoid,” Jason says, rolling his eyes, before hoisting his box up again, before walking off.

Meanwhile, Bruce actually explains: “I haven’t mentioned you, like I said I would. It’s best if they don’t know we’re connected, nor that Gotham hosts more heroes. Connections like we have could be exploited by them and Superman can do a lot more damage should he so choose than Killer Croc or Bane.”

“But they’re good guys, right?”

“For now,” Dick answers morosely. “I’m not saying I agree with B’s paranoia, I mean, I was doing team ups before him and it worked out fine for me without the layers of paranoid he has. But a lot of things can go wrong, especially when working with people that powerful. I also maintained a semblance of mystique just to be safe.”

“But you can try to tell them this isn’t working, right? They must see that it’s not,” Duke says.

“From what I’ve seen both Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman are warriors like John, so they think the same about this. Superman and Flash are office workers, they’d think of horrid team-building days. While J’onn is used to working together with people who can read minds,” Bruce answers. “Out of all of them, only J’onn might listen.”

Cass nudges him and signs: ‘You are not saying something. There is hiding in your shoulders and a bit of guilt in your jaw.’

“What are you hiding, B,” Dick prods, a little bit of genuine judgment and worry coming through the tease.

“It’s a risk to tell them,” Bruce answers sulkily, knowing it’s a little silly, but unable to stop his brain from providing pop-ups of all the ways it could backfire.

“B,” Dick whines, throwing himself to hang over him. “You can at least try.”

“I will, I will,” Bruce says, placating yet also meaning it. He wants to do right by his kids and they want him to have friends, most of them encouraging him with the Justice League.

And, he does. Tentatively he suggest doing some trust exercises among the drills they’ve been running. As expected he gets weird looks and even a scoff from Wally and a frown from Clark. But he manages to play into John’s ideas brotherhood, which means the others are forced to give it a try.

It’s not perfect, of course it isn’t. They still have to deal with the fact that they never agreed on a strategists or a leader of sorts. They still have to build an organization, a system, a proper way of working as a unit.

However, they are getting somewhere. Some prodding here and there helps and the more it helps, the more others prod.

Though it’s not until years later, when Damian is nearly outgrowing the Robin mantle, that Bruce finally allows them to meet his kids. To let them in on the inner workings of Gotham vigilantism.

Then John will point at him and exclaim: “You son of a bitch, you lied to me! You let me struggle on my own to pull these idiots together.”

And at that point, Bruce will be comfortable enough to ignore everyone’s protests and smirk: “I offered you to help, didn’t I? Too bad I work alone.” Making his kids – though they’re adults at that point – laugh like the day they first heard.

~~

A/N:

I think the League thinking Batman works alone is hilarious, especially if they establish later than the batfam

[oldfashionedbutlervibes]

Oilver Swift Headcanons Because Im Horridly Forgetful<3

Relationship;

—Okay, too start off he is the most supportive dork you will ever meet

—loves you more than anything-

—He actually has like four brain cells are three of them are specifically for remembering your anniversary

—He takes you to the damn cinema so excitedly like he doesn’t work there-

— gets you a discount on drinks whenever you go

— he also flirts..well, attempts too-

—HE. FUCKING. GIGGLES. AND. TUCKS. IMAGINARY. HAIR. BEHIND. HIS. EAR WHENEVER YOU FLIRT BACK

— god hes chaotic as fuck too-

—if y’all even consider marriage Gingi has to be best man-

Overall a 900/10 relationship<3 :DD

Friendship;

—y’all are getting up to absolute NONSENSE together-

—hes so fun, he just bounces around commits arson and gets high all in one day with you trailing behind him either encouraging his chimp-like behavior or desperately trying to calm him down-

—PLEASE PRAISE HIM FOR DOING BASIC TASKS- he has a very bruise-able ego!!

—So you know how dogman told us how exactly phones kiss? Like, gentle face mashing? He practiced with you-. 10000% yes he did-

—start a book club with him he’ll be your biggest fan and you two can read Dostoyevsky together or sum-

—HE TEXTS IN ALL CAPS WITH ABSOLUTELY NO PUNCTUATION OR GRAMMAR

9/10 friendship in general! (One point docked if you don’t match fez’s with him, then he’ll ghost you and cry in Randy’s dumpster for half an hour)

General;

—…here me out, man’s got pec’s to feed a village. (I’m a good person I promise.)

—Hes a veeeeeery physical touch oriented guy, literally has his arm around someone 24/7

—addicted to Mountain Dew, it’s chronic at this point

—hes a very talented painter, probably only paints the lewdest things imaginable but still, it’s something!

— he makes his bed a very specific way and actually beams whenever someone compliments it

—he has a collection of classic literature and poetry that he will rant about upon asking

—Jerry’s adhd son- Oliver has Jerry on speed dial incase he tries doing something strenuous and or stupid- (yes I realize how odd that speed dial part sounds upon reading it over)

— Owns over eight flannels for different ocassions-

—…….hes very experienced in the lewd activities some of you’d like to partake him don’t ask me how I know-

Overall, If you can’t tell I loveeee this silly little moron- (apologies once again for this taking so long once again, I appreciate all of your support so very much- please, send me a request if you’d like more-) (it also wouldn’t let me add the photo at the top AAA tumblr how darent you-)

(Update: OH. MY. GOD??? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT I LOVE EVERYONE OF YOU-)

[ginger-snap-talkin-nonsense]

The sheer volume of antisemitism ALONE found in y’all’s “critiques” of Steven Universe is unavoidable. It is genuinely insane once you look through all of it. I remember how you defended Adam Sandler’s movies on the basis that much of the hate for them was overblown due to antisemitism, and it freaks me out how you just so obviously don’t give a shit about any of that when it comes to a Jewish creator (who’s a bisexual woman this time) that you personally hate. The extreme hypocrisy here is just unbelievable, it truly fucking is. You can have criticisms of SU NOT deeply rooted in antisemitic caricatures, ‘jokes’, and bigotry. But that’s definitely not the case when it comes to you, Mikaila, or Lily for that matter. I’m just focusing on your own obvious bigotry influencing your hatred of SU because it’s you I’m sending this ask to.

For fuck’s sake you’ve basically banned yourself from ever watching ANYTHING made by LGBTQ+ creators in general, like Nimona as well. Which DEFINITELY would play a major role in somebody hating Steven Universe. Bigotry influencing media tastes in one of the most blindingly obvious things that can happen to ANYBODY, and you’re the biggest moron around if you think it can’t happen to you. (If the fact that very obvious bigotries have influenced your relentless hatred against MOST diverse art made by marginalized creators didn’t make that fucking obvious enough to you yet)

You know I'm starting to think-and this may sound crazy what I'm bout to say-that you don't actually know what I have said about Steven Universe and have just taken word second hand that I talk about it more than I actually do

Might be off my rocker though that's just a theory

[hayanwulf]

Hayan does prompts? Hell yeah! Expect me to come up to your window like in a drive-through.

I‘d like to order FrostIronStrange. We need more of that. Something like „Why can't we ever do normal people things for date night? Like dinner, or a movie? Why jump straight to axe throwing?!“

Aahhhh okay, I’m finally feeling well enough to, like, setup a routine for answering prompts. Hope y’all enjoy stalking my page.

I do not think this is what you expected when you gave me that prompt, but oh well, this is what the muse served..

---

Tony scoffed. “Sedalia clearly doesn’t know how to have fun. He should let Egil set that moron’s wagon on fire.”

“Indeed,” Loki agreed all too gleefully, smirking as he cast a side glance at Stephen.

Stephen simply rolled his eyes and turned his focus back on the stage, watching the play.

Loki had written this original play himself, and this was New Asgard’s first ever literary and arts fest. Loki had pridefully relayed as such to Tony and Stephen when inviting them. And though the live performance theater stood under an open sky, the illusion magic was so seamless here that one would think they had truly been teleported to Vanaheim.

The two Vanir characters on-stage bore striking resemblance to two certain people Stephen knew... Egil was intelligent, a curious creature, always ready to learn new things, always trying to push everyone and his own limits with his acts. Sedalia was unmatched in healing and rune magic, always the wiser of the pair, always pulling Egil out of the holes he dug himself.

Tony had been commenting non-stop since the very beginning of the play, and Stephen didn’t think he had seen Loki this giddy since Thanos’ attack.

A smile grew on his face as he listened to Tony’s commentary. He was pretty sure that they were being annoying to the Asgardians sitting near them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Soon, however, they were interrupted by a loud chorus of cheer from somewhere to the left of the theater.

Stephen and Tony turned to look what was happening, and found that there was an axe throwing competition not far away from the theater. Stephen was mildly annoyed; who would put that in a literary and arts fest?

Asgardians.

He shook his head and focused back on the stage; Tony did the same. Egil and Sedalia were being creepily stalked by a light elf in the dense forest.

“I’m calling it, it’s the third MC,” Tony said.

“You sound too confident about it,” Loki replied. “He could be the antagonist.”

“Nah. Pretty sure the antagonist is that big ugly guy we saw at first with the sob story of his planet dying.”

There were loud cheers again, interrupting their immersion. Stephen could feel irritation rising up in his chest. Tony turned to look again, Stephen didn’t even bother, his eyes fixed on the light elf who was sneaking closer and closer to Egil and Sedalia, building up a thrill scene. Tony then craned his neck further to their back, which made Stephen frown and turn around as well.

Some of the people were leaving the theater.

They were leaving to go to that cursed axe throwing competition.

Tony and Stephen shared a look, then glanced at Loki sitting on Tony’s other side. Loki��s eyes were on the stage, watching his characters, but they both knew he had to be knowing what was happening.

Stephen leaned down to whisper, “Their loss.”

Tony inclined his head in agreement. This play was a masterpiece, and anyone willing to leave it halfway was a fool.

Tony went back to rambling about the scene. “He’s not as good at hiding as he thinks he is. Sedalia clearly knows he’s there.”

“He is excellent at hiding,” Loki refuted. “This simply proves how adept Sedalia is at his magic and sensing his environment.”

On-stage, Egil was rambling much like Tony was right now, while Sedalia subtly put himself between Egil and the light elf, interpreting the new presence as a threat. His hands lit up with magic. Now he was outright glaring the light elf’s way, provoking him.

But the light elf did not move from his hiding spot, curiously observing the healer.

Sedalia raised his hand to cast a blast of magic, and then—

Loud applause boomed through the air a third time, it was so loud that it even drew the actors’ attention and they turned their heads towards the source, play and roles forgotten.

There, at the target zone, Thor stood bellowing in victory with both hands in the air. On the wooden target, the axe was lodged right on the bullseye.

The actors quickly remembered the roles they were supposed to be playing. Sedalia attacked the light elf, who got hit square on the chest and landed flat on his back.

All the actors froze at that.

Which meant that it was unscripted. Which meant that the light elf actor was supposed to dodge it, but failed.

Tony facepalmed, while Stephen just shook his head in pity for the poor performers. Loki, though..

Loki looked to be at the precipice of losing his patience, face carefully kept neutral, but eyes radiating fury.

“Forgive me,” Loki spoke, suddenly getting up from his seat, and turned to them. “I’ll return shortly.” And with that he strode away in quick steps.

Both of them called out to Loki, but their calls were not acknowledged. They turned to each other.

“What are the odds that someone will be murdered tonight?” Tony asked.

“I’d say pretty high,” Stephen replied.

They both got up in unison and ran after Loki.

It was fair bit of struggle to wade through the crowd of Asgardians now gathered around the target zone, watching and cheering. Eventually Stephen got annoyed enough that he started to fling people out of their way with magic. Tony watched him with amusement. Stephen didn’t feel bad in the least; besides they were Asgardians, they could take a bit of being flung around.

Arriving at the heart of the target zone which was empty but for a few people — a stark contrast to the large circle of Asgardians completely surrounding its boundaries — they saw Loki standing aligned to a target. Thor stood off on a side, a somewhat sheepish look on his face, as he observed Loki. Oh yeah, Thor was definitely the culprit responsible for this competition.

A man came to Loki, handing him a large axe. Loki held it, scrutinized it, then promptly tossed it away towards the sky without looking. The axe landed somewhere behind the crowd, destroying something by the sound of it. Stephen hoped no one got hurt, but there were no shouts of pain, so it was likely okay.

Loki summoned one of his blades in a hand. He let his magic flow through it, tendrils of brilliant green snaking around the blade. His weapon transformed, the hilt growing longer, the blade splitting to two that both grew out into two large, heavy, symmetrical wings. Loki’s axe looked magnificent and perfectly balanced in his grip.

He positioned himself a distance away from the target, but wait.. there was more magic. Stephen squinted, trying to guess what, exactly, was Loki aiming for here.

Hopefully not his brother.

Loki swung his axe with an impossible amount of power. It flew into the target and shattered it into pieces, but didn’t stop there. It continued, destroying the protective barrier behind it, then the backup barrier behind that, and finally crashed into a stall of weapons before its momentum died. Stephen thought he saw broken pieces of several axes scatter all over the ground from the impact.

For a moment, all of New Asgard seemed to fall in utter silence.

Then everyone cheered deafeningly loud for Loki.

(And if Stephen knew of Loki’s foul play with magic, he didn’t point it out.)

His shoulder were slightly shaking with restrained laughter as Loki haughtily made it back towards them, while Tony had that smug smile on his face that spoke ‘Good job!’

“Ah yes, axe throwing,” Tony said dryly, “How romantic. Why didn’t I think of that first?”

“Clearly your genius doesn’t extend—”

“Loki!”

The trio turned in unison to where Thor stood by the (now destroyed) stall of weapons, holding an axe which was no longer an axe; both its wings had fallen off.

“You’ve destroyed all the axes!” Thor shouted over the cheer of the crowd.

“Whaaaat? I can’t hear you!” Loki yelled back, then quickly turned to them. “It seems the play is getting postponed, how do you feel about something else for date night?”

“How about some axe throwing?” Stephen snarked.

Loki turned to see Thor rapidly approaching their group, then turned back to them and grabbed each of their arms. “Beloved, your portals could be really useful right about now.”

“Hey hey, what’s the rush?” Tony said with barely restrained laughter. “I want my turn at this now.”

“Yeah, Loki, even the Cloak wants to try.”

“Loki!” Thor was almost here.

Loki looked back at his brother once, then focused back on his partners and let his magic flow through them, preparing to teleport all three of them together. Stephen finally took pity and opened a portal under their feet, dropping them in their personal quarters in the Compound and closing it after. The last thing they saw through was Thor’s raged expression.

Tony burst out in laughter.

Loki just scowled at Stephen for a moment, feigning betrayal. The Cloak reached up for Loki with a corner and patted his cheek. Loki swatted them away in offense.

“Can we ever, for once, have a normal date night?” Tony asked, half his body lying flat on their bed when he was done with his laughing fit.

“At least this was entertaining,” Stephen commented, sitting next to him as the Cloak flew off his shoulder. “And there were no villains interrupting us.”

“I don’t know, pretty sure Thor easily qualifies for that role here.”

Stephen considered it, then agreed. “Okay, he does.”

“And he got served justice.”

Stephen snorted.

Loki was slowly pacing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a scowl on his face. He spoke nothing.

“Oh come on here pouty face,” Tony beckoned him.

“I’m not pouting,” Loki said, clearly pouting.

Tony and Stephen shared a look.

He’s a total drama queen.

Yes, he is.

They both got up and took an arm of Loki each, dragging him towards the bed.

“Y’know, we still have some other, very exciting activities for date night,” Tony whispered seductively, making Loki sit down on the bed. “Isn’t that right, Sedalia?”

“Yes, Egil,” Stephen agreed, snapping his fingers. All the windows of their room turned opaque. “And no one will be around to interrupt us for it.”

Loki huffed, his previous bad mood disappearing but still trying to be difficult about it. “Fine, only because I want to stop thinking about that oaf that sabotaged my play.”

“Oh, that’s very easy, babe,” Tony said, pushing Loki down on bed, and Stephen added, “By the time we’re done, you won’t be thinking at all.”

[dreamings-free]

Louis hates you lot so much lmaooo and doesn’t want anything to do with y’all. I could tell Louis in person to include more solo songs on his setlist and he might tell me to fuck off but I’ll live lol but if you bitches tell him that you believe his son is not his I guarantee you he’s gonna kill you :)

boo hoo louis hates me 😂 anon, I’m not 12. you on the other hand sound like you’re barely old enough to be on the internet unsupervised..

anyway let me repeat since you’re obviously slow on the uptake; the difference, dumbass, is -unlike you- I’m not some entitled little moron thinking louis wants my opinion on his personal or professional life choices.

[snickerzanddoodlez]

The Best Bigslie Episode (Wordgirl)

not enough people talk about this episode. Lowkey, it’s the reason I got into the Bigslie ship and is one of my favorites of all time

Here’s my essay on why :P and sorry for all the pictures being so low quality!

I’ll write a bullet point list mkay we’re doing this in bullet points 

Leslie isn’t paid

I think this contradicts some other episodes where it’s implied she’s paid? Small detail, but still, I-

Leslie is working here for free

This is very important to me 

Like, she’s choosing to do this and stay here

Also, yes, there’s an argument to be made that Mr. Big is a jerk, and yes he is but I choose to believe that this isn’t due to malice and more due to the fact that he is a moron

WHEN WORDGIRL FINDS HER SHE’S SO DEPRESSED- and not in a codependent kind of way imo, we’ve seen Leslie is perfectly fine on her own (Leslie Makes it Big comes to mind) and is more than able to take care of herself. She chose to do this and is perfectly capable and fine on her own but she’s still upSET because she cARES ABOUT HIM

Wordgirl: “Boy, you really do know him, don’t you?”

Leslie: “For better or for worse.”

How happy she is when he talks fondly about her my heart

MR BIG SOUNDS SO DELIGHTED WHEN HE FINDS OUT ITS HER HELING WORDGIRL LEGIT- he’s not even mad she was working with Wordgirl he’s just so DELIGHTED

Leslie gets so angry when they’re about to fight Mr. Big, he’s an idiot but he’s her idiot and y’all aren’t allowed to lay a finger on him 

The big “Welcome back, Leslie!” and the biggol hug he gives her I’m crying sobbing shaking he’s so happy

THE SMILE AT THE END I NEVER NOTICED IT BEFORE NOW BUT LOOK AT THEM LOOK AT THEM MMMMMMMMMMMMMM 🥺🥺🥺

Bonus points for Mr. Big calling himself gorgeous and Leslie just agreeing with him 

[bizaar]

E92GE9WGW9DHEOWSNE9H39DBFF9RBWOS

translation: me letting you know to please keep going

I have so many comments from both part 1 and part 2 but it kind of all blurred together by the end into one heart-aching keysmash. that prologue left me fucking winded. I adore how you approach their trauma and healing post s4, some of the more ugly realities intertwined with the love they have for one another. Both of them having that underlying desperation to make sure the other is there and safe, that they actually both got out.

they just feel so real, it makes me that much more invested in their story. Truly, loved it so much.

so grateful for this story and you, as always 🖤

(also I have a desperate need to see Wayne and Eddie have that heart to heart)

You don’t know how much both yours and @jo-harrington ‘s commentaries mean to me 😭😭

I swear I didn’t mean to make it so angsty. I just wanted to write a silly little smut chapter but I’m The Worst™️

Don’t worry, though, there will be a heart to heart, I’m a considerate lover 😉 (when I’m not tired)

—

“Did y’all fight?”

Eddie shakes his head and flinches under a lingering stiffness in his neck that makes him think of braces and bandages and grueling physical therapy he couldn’t be bothered to do.

Betcha wish you’d stuck with it now, Moron.

Wayne makes a gravelly, displeased sound in the hollow of his throat.

“...well, somethin’ happened. A feller don’t get put in the doghouse for nothin’.”

That makes it sound like you kicked him out, but that’s not hardly true, because Eddie left on his own volition. He cut and run, stealing away with his tail between his legs and his heart in his throat.

He’s not supposed to do that anymore. He thought he’d broken that habit, down there in the dark.

[crab-instruments]

The Crime Lord’s New Groove Part 5

Master <Part 4 Part 6>

Pairing: Silco x GN Reader

Summary: You find that your boss, Silco, has been turned into a cat.

Warnings: none

a/n: I'm not dead, just listening to podcast about people with delusions of grandeur, and maybe that's where this story will end up.

Smuggling cat-Silco into his office was much easier than getting him out. It helped Sevika could glare anyone into submission, forcing them to look down at the ground while you carried the precious cargo that was your boss.

You and Sevika tore the office apart, searching for any clues. Random cursed objects, cat claws and whiskers used for a sacrifice, even Shimmer tainted catnip. There was nothing, though it’s not like either of you knew what to look for. Besides, neither of you spent enough time in the office to know if something was out of place.

The cat himself clearly had other things to do. You watched as Silco tapped objects around with mild interest, using some to test the gravity in the office. A small pile of trinkets and pens amassed on the floor as time went on. Every once and a while, Silco would sit his scruffy-looking ass down, tail wrapped over his front paws, and stare holes into you and Sevika. His look was bored, as if expecting to be entertained. Neither of you knew what he wanted, so he would go back to tapping objects.

“So, what you’re telling me is… you know nothing.”

Never taking your eye off a pen as it rolled under the desk, you responded dejectedly. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like I didn’t try. However, I think I’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty here.”

Sevika scoffed. “Right. You have no answers and no leads but you definitely deserve a raise.”

You groaned and swiveled your head toward the golden armed warrior. “It’s not like I was here when it happened and I already told you my suspect is—”

“A lady with no appointment, who said something, and left without anyone noticing.”

“Yeah so, I mean, that’s not nothing—”

“There are many ladies in Zaun, you moron, it barely narrows it down.”

“I’m not exactly an expert in therianthropy or shapeshifting. I work behind the bar most nights! Y’all don’t even trust me enough to do inventory, so I fail to see how this is remotely my problem.” You dug the heals of your hands into your eyes and sighed, annoyed at how unlucky you were to have been the one to have found Silco. “Do you remember what that old hag looked like, from yesterday? She was the last one you saw come in here, right? Could you describe her enough so I could draw her face and see if we can use that to ask around?”

It was quiet for a moment. You looked up to see both Silco and Sevika staring at you incredulously. Raising your arms in question, you glared back at the two.

Sevika huffed, “You can draw? I’ve seen your handwriting, it’s dogshit.”

Underpaid and underappreciated, you wondered why you even offered and why you were still here. You grabbed a pen off the floor and some loose paper, making room on the messy desk. The sketch of the woman’s face started out generic, a base for Sevika to go off of.

It was all going fine until a few lines started to get out of hand and the pen became difficult to use. You scowled at Silco, who was much closer and swatting the moving pen. Lifting the pen out of reach, you frowned, trying to convey your annoyance. No emotion showed on his face, only focused on his target.

A silent battle was fought between the two of you. Silco looked at you with defiant eyes. This was Silco’s desk, pen, paper, and office, and if he wanted to play with the pen, it was his right. However, you were trying to help make him not a cat and his little paws were interfering with that work. After a few seconds, you made your attack. You lifted Silco up, keeping him at arms length, and placed him on the chair all while ignoring the deepening scowl the scruffy feline gave.

“If Silco remembers what happened while he was a cat, he’ll kill you. Maybe worse.”

You sighed, “He’ll have to get in line. Just tell me what the lady looked like.”

Silco accepted his fate, stretching his claws into the seat of the chair, walking in a circle, and curling up into a fluffy ball.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After pulling the details out from Sevika, which was more difficult than you could have imagined (like it was Sevika’s job to keep them secret and close to her heart), you had a sketch to go off of. When you had a moment to finally look at it, you were sure you messed up somewhere.

You turned to Sevika, the sketch outstretched in your hands. “Is this what she looked like?”

“Shit, that looks just like the woman. It’s almost like you’ve seen her before.”

Silco snapped his head up, eyes bleary from sleep, now alert. He uncurled himself from the chair to leap onto the desk for a better vantage point. A single paw tapped your wrist impatiently a few times until you laid out the sketch on the desk. Silco took a few steps back, taking in the portrait. His head tilted from side to side before he pounced on the paper and looked up at you, meowing in approval.

“Even Silco agrees.” You rubbed your face, giving yourself a moment to think. “Well, the good news is, I know who the woman is.”

“Really? Who?”

“My landlord.”

Seivka stood and started making her way toward the door. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get going.”

“Wait! But I live there! I can’t go accusing my landlord of witchcraft, she’ll evict me.”

“How is that my problem?”

You sputtered, thrown off kilter by Sevika’s lack of empathy. “Where would I live?”

Before Sevika could answer, Silco meowed loud enough to startle you both. He held his presence as if he was human again, demanding respect and attention. It was easy to forget how powerful he was when he looked so cute and fluffy.

“Silco will reward you for helping him, of course.”

Sighing, you considered the offer. Realistically, you couldn’t say no to Silco anyway. “Fine, but let me talk to her first. I’ll try to negotiate nicely and if that doesn’t work, you can be the bad cop.”

The golden armed brute looked toward that cat sitting on the desk, waiting for approval. Silco sat up straight, regal as always, and looked between the two of you. He nodded and blinked slowly. It was a weird scene to experience, waiting for a cat to dictate the path of your future.

The same cat that started grooming himself on top of the desk.

“The boss has spoken, let’s go.”

Part 6

*~*~*

[spacefinch]

Incorrect Quotes: Wild Field Trips edition, part 2:

Ralphie: I'm in my mum's car, vroom vroom.

Dr. Tennelli: Get out of me car!

Ralphie: Awww.

Martin: You have entered RADICAL SATURDAY

Aviva: Today's Friday, though.

Martin: IRRELEVANT

Zach: Oh sorry, I fell asleep while I was waiting on you to make me a sandwich.

Gourmand: Go back to sleep AND STARVE.

Alternatives to “Ladies and gentlemen”:

D.A.: Ladies, gentlemen, and others

Carlos: Ladies and germs

Koki: Beloved friends and tolerated acquaintances

Wanda: Allies, enemies, and those I’m still deciding about

Zach: Fellow scoundrels

Tim: Entities of interest

Jenny: Guys, gals, and non-binary pals

Evan: All y’all

Tim: Folks

Dr. Tennelli: Distinguished guests

Ralphie: Comrades

Martin: My dudes

Chris: A warm welcome to everyone who managed to sneak past the Zachbots

Mikey: Eating chips with chopsticks is unironically galaxy brain. Your fingers don’t get greasy and it lasts for longer.

Ronan: Fork

Mikey: Oh, yeah, I’m going to stab my crunchy foods and make them fall apart like an absolute absentminded dunce, fool, clown, jester, like a monstrous moron, an idiot of Shakespearean proportions, a cretin.

Jimmy: Um, you seem to forget that ‘chips’ can also mean fries. And that’s probably what he was talking about, haha

Mikey: I did not forget anything. I purposely ignore the idea of using British vocabulary to do my part in helping it die out.

Keesha: Really? EVERYBODY was kung fu fighting? I find that hard to believe. Stop feeding me these lies.

Chris: Well it was really hard to see if it was everyone, you see they were as fast as lightning.

Carlos: And to be honest, it was a little bit frightening.

Ralphie: KNOWLEDGE is knowing that a tomato is technically a fruit.

Phoebe: WISDOM is not putting it in a fruit salad.

Ralphie: PHILOSOPHY is wondering if a tomato is a fruit, does that make ketchup a smoothie?

Dr. Tennelli, about to kick them both out of the kitchen: COMMON SENSE is knowing that ketchup isn't a smoothie.

Martin: I put my Creaturepod down and now I can't find it.

Chris: Want me to call it?

Martin: It's on silent.

Chris: I'll call it anyway.

*Everyone stands around listening for a faint buzzing sound*

Carlos: I'm going to give raccoons the gift of fire and then teach them ceramics and they will make little bowls with their little hands.

Aviva: You cannot give raccoons that kind of power!

Wanda: The opposite of "the elephant in the room" is "the centipede in the room." Something that's not actually an issue, but everyone's freaking out about.

Chris: As someone who has worked with venomous animals, I can assure you that a centipede in the room is in fact a very big issue.

Gavin: If you have knees, you are valid.

Phoebe: Homophobes have knees, too.

Gavin: Not for long.

Carlos: Who is teaching my dad Zoomer slang?

*earlier*

Mr. Ramon (via text message): What do you think? I totally stan it

Carlos: Stop

Keesha: Stop excluding the B from LGBT. I'm sick of it. British people should be proud of who they are. Screw you.

Zach: What means “I hate you” in dinosaur?

Carlos: No. Dinosaur is the language of love.

Katie: I almost dropped my Creaturepod on my soft carpeted floor but thank god I have lightning fast reflexes and was able to slap it into the wall instead.

Wanda: I heard my brother [Henry] say he was going to Dairy Queen, so I snuck in his car and he has no idea I’m here.

Wanda: He asked his friend what he wanted and I popped up from the floor and said “I was thinking about a milkshake." I have never heard two teenage boys scream louder.

Carlos: Do not stand near the open fire when you have a tube of cocoa butter in your thigh pocket.

Jenny: This is so oddly specific. What happened?

Carlos: I am confident in your ability to figure it out from the clues provided.

Aidan: You’ve heard of mom friends. Now get ready for: Anti-mom friend. They suggest every single impulsive thought that runs through their head like, "Hey, what if you jumped in that pond in the middle of the night?" to the group while the mom friend begs them to stop.

Phoebe: Eldest sibling friend.

(Both of them look at Carlos)

Keesha: Hi, could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire?

Martin: Microwave for 40 minutes

Keesha: Why were you microwaving a lemon??

Martin: I read boiling lemons helps cover up bad smells (I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges), but we don't have a big enough pot on the Tortuga.

Keesha: Did you burn an orange too? How??

Martin: Microwave for 40 minutes

Carlos: Love is dead and never existed. All you did was betray me as I lay sick and festering. You are the definition of dread.

Phoebe: Are you okay?

Carlos: My cat stole my freakign garlic bread.

Carlos: A theif

DA: Thief?

Carlos: Theif

DA: I before e, except after c

Carlos: Thceif

DA: No

Dr. Skeledon: Children, this is dirt.

Arnold, Carlos, and Phoebe: dirt? dirt? dirt? dirt? dirt?

Wanda: My mom is asleep, quick reblog this post with skeletons saying bad words.

Phoebe: 💀Tax evasion

Keesha: 💀Gerrymandering

Carlos: 💀Music piracy

Gavin: 💀Rug burn

Mikey: 💀Frick

[bullshit-tqia]

>This time last year I was a Marxist-Leninist-Maoist, I am a center US democrat now.

I personally went from center left to just leftist overtime. It’s not a huge shift like yours. You, on the other hand (and just so that your new TERF followers know this), now support -Israel- and GCs, which are extremist positions that are a far cry from being far left and trans. If you “peaked” because of Benjanun’s shitty cult of terminally online tgirls and all of the sudden support genocide, that’s a mental health crisis

“It’s not a huge shift”

I hope when you inevitably wake up from the foreign state brainwashing you’ll realize how embarrassing this is.

My extremist positions, explained:

1. The Arab-Israeli conflict did not begin in 1948 (fact) it began after Arabs started to threaten Jewish refugees fleeing the Holocaust with genocide after they committed antisemitic hate crimes against other waves of Jewish refugees (fact), the nakba overemphasizes Israel’s role as Egypt and Jordan played a part and then occupied Gaza and the West Bank respectively until 1967 (fact), and that the Israelis are actually allowed to defend themselves after the government of Gaza invaded their country and killed over a thousand Israelis (fact). But one question. Why did South Africa try to delay the due date to submit evidence of genocide to the UN? (Fact) Surely if genocide is so obvious they would have ample evidence, yes? But actually…the reality is that this situation is much more complicated than you think it is. Bombs and people dying ≠ genocide. Boohoo I’m not a reactionary moron who repeats retarded shit like “globalize the intifada” which islamofascists have spouted for decades. Y’all repeating fascist slogans but I’m the extremist.

2. GC means gender critical. I do in fact criticize the idea that we need to fix “gender incongruence” with medication and surgery that have been known to kill people. There is a type of vaginoplasty that takes part of the colon and makes a vagina out of it with many complications, such as making trans women SHIT OUT OF THEIR VAGINA. I personally do not think we actually need to tell people “hey, you either have suffering or suffering” because they have gender dysphoria, especially when a large section of trans people are autistic and these surgeries cause infertility. It’s starting to sound like we have a roundabout form of eugenics. We should ALLOW people to be gender nonconforming without making it a medical issue. We shouldn’t be pumping ourselves with exogenous hormones and castrating ourselves for “happiness.” This does not bring happiness! It’s a placebo!! Being trans sucks! We shouldn’t exchange one type of suffering (gender dysphoria) with another (transitioning). Especially when we don’t even know that transitioning gets rid of gender dysphoria. That’s fucking crazy!!

It’s crazy how y’all think human suffering is the epitome of le wokeisme!! Why is the immediate assumption that we should fix ourselves with hormones and surgery instead of accepting ourselves? How can it be impossible for us to be happy and gender nonconforming?

I don’t want to spend the rest of my life on hormones and possibly going through a series of surgeries meant to modify previous ones because I think I have to conform so extremely to this idea of what a man should look like. How does that help dysphoria? It just reinforces it! It makes our idealist view of ourselves narrower and narrower as we spend more of our lives alone and distressed that people may learn we’re trans. That’s fucking crazy.

I am more pro-trans than you will ever be.

[theoddcatlady]

The Dangers of Tattoos

Out of the nine guys at Dillan’s bachelor party, I’m the only one left alive. And I don’t know how much more time I have.

Dillan was a friend from my highschool days. We weren’t close, but we hung out when all our other friends were busy. I was happy to hear he was getting hitched to his girl Heather, they were good for each other. When he asked me to join him and a few of the other guys for drinks, I happily accepted. One last crazy night before he said I Do.

We’d all gotten pretty buzzed when Mickey threw out this brilliant idea:

‘We should all get tattoos!’

I’d never gotten a tattoo before, but I was probably one of two guys who hadn’t in the group. Mickey in particular was covered in ink, full sleeves on both arms and he had proudly shown off the progress made on one over his ribs- the inked outline of a Kraken. He and his artist were going to start putting in color in two months.

Like I said, I’d never been inked, but I was in awe. And to my drunk brain, getting a tattoo with the guys sounded fantastic. And whadya know, just down the street there was a parlor.

Unfortunately, they didn’t tattoo people who weren’t sober. The guy was incredibly patient, just pointing to the sign and saying if we wanted to get a tattoo after our hangovers, he’d happily help us out. The only one to get cranky about this was Derek, Mickey ended up dragging him out by the ear as the idiot cussed out the artist. Yeah, the artist said that all of us would get inked if we wanted except for Derek. Genius move, Derek.

When we were all on the street again, talking about getting more drinks, that’s when she just… appeared.

I didn’t hear her walk up, although I’m not sure how, she had heels that could put a man’s eye out. The only reason we even knew she was there was because she cleared her throat. I whipped around and she was like two inches behind me, way too much in my personal space for me to be comfortable. I yelped and slipped on some slush, landing on my ass. Everyone laughed but she just sighed and helped me to my feet.

She was wearing a puffy green coat and black skinny jeans, but even with her skin mostly covered I could see ink on her neck. Half her head was shaved and I saw three piercings in her exposed ear, not to mention the several on her face- eyebrows, septum, lips, this girl had it all.

“So, Phillips says you’re too drunk?” She grinned and chuckled pleasantly. “I’m Lacey. Come on, I’ll take you to my shop. I think I can work something out.” She turned around and started walking down the street.

Mickey whistled. “… She’s so fucking hot,” He murmured.

“You hear her though? Tattoos, man! Plan’s back in action!” Derek whooped and took off down the street after her.

Sober I realized how sketchy this was, but drunk me was just excited to get a tattoo. So I followed the herd. Like a moron.

The girl led us down a few side streets and took so many turns there is no way I could find my way back. But finally she led us down the side of a building and down a set of stairs to a metal door with one word stamped on it:

‘Coven’

“Come on in, boys,” She grinned and opened the door.

It actually wasn’t nearly as sketchy looking inside. I expected no ceiling, maybe one chair that reeked of mildew, but it was a legit tattoo shop. Pictures were all over the walls of the shop’s previous works, and there was another woman with firetruck red hair and huge gauges in her earlobes texting away in one of the leather chairs.

“Hey, Barb, we got customers,” The woman shrugged off her coat and threw it on the rack, revealing that she was only wearing a tank top and yeah- she was covered in ink. From the chin down it was just a myriad of pictures.

“Kay, Lacey,” Barb got up and glanced over. “Sooo, y’all gonna be matching or…”

I glanced over at Dillan, who nodded. “I’m getting married in two days, we’re just out partying!” He said, trying to sound bold.

Barb just smirked. “Cute. All right, I’ll take the bachelor, Lacey, mind taking the shrimpy guy? I think he’s a fainter,” She nodded at me and I was offended but only had a moment for that because Lacey grabbed my hand and yanked me to the chair.

She took a seat next to me and smiled, and I suppose she was quite pretty, although I wasn’t sure how old she was. “It’s gonna be fine, dude. Your first tattoo?” She asked. I heard Barb talking with Dillan quietly about what he wanted everyone to get.

I nodded. “Yeah. Never been really into them, but why not, right?” If I really regretted it, I’d just get it lasered away, I reasoned.

“Just remember to breathe,” She looked up at Barb, “Did he decide?”

Barb nodded and lifted a pic in the air of a symbol that looked like two triangles next to each other, a dot in the middle. Lacey giggled.

“Oh, love that choice! All right, buddy, where do you want it?”

I chose my upper arm. After that, everything kinda blurs together. I don’t even remember pain, I just remember stumbling out the door feeling kinda nauseated and trying to get an Uber.

I woke up the next morning, my arm hurt like hell, and I had fifteen missed calls from the guys last night and twenty one texts in the group text. Although my head was pounding, I managed to make out the point-

‘Dude, where tf is Mickey?’

‘his girlfriend said mickey didn’t make it home last night did any of you see where he went’

‘GUYS THERE WAS AN ACCIDENT LIKE TWO BLOCKS FROM COVEN DUDE GOT PANCAKED BY A SEMI TRUCK’

‘What the FUCK was it Mickey’

‘they literally cannot tell who it was the guy was in pieces’

Jesus Christ. My arm ached and I didn’t even know where to start with these texts. I popped some pain meds and called Dillan. He didn’t answer, so I tried Derek. When there was no answer, I had a bad feeling starting to form in my stomach.

After two more calls I got a response from one of the guys I barely knew, Toby. He was Dillan’s cousin and was just in the state for the wedding.

“Hey man, I’m sorry for calling so early-” I was cut off by Toby quite quickly.

“I was starting to think you fucking dropped off the edge of the earth, dude! You okay?”

I groaned. “Maybe? Tattoo hurts, but that’s normal I think. Was the guy last night Mickey?”

“I think they managed to ID him from some of the tattoos… I’m sorry man, I know he was a friend, I didn’t really know him but… god.” I heard Toby quietly gag. “From what I understand, he was just smashed. The driver said it was like an explosion, guy’s gonna need some therapy. Um, wedding’s today, are you going to-”

“Hell no.” I felt two seconds from hurling. “I don’t wanna upchuck on the bride and I didn’t really get an official invite. You have a good time.”

I hung up and ran to the toilet to puke my guts up. I swore I was never going to get that drunk again as I crawled back into bed with a bottle of water to sip from.

I woke up again about an hour later to my phone going off. I managed to grab it and answer it on the fourth ring.

“Hello-”

“We fucked up! Holy shit, I think I’m gonna be sick again, oh my god, oh my god-”

I could barely recognize the voice as Derek, he sounded so hysterical. “Slow down, what the fuck happened?” I said as I sat up.

“… Dillan blew up.”

My immediate response was to snicker.

“What are you saying? Did he open his mouth to say I do and blew chunks all over Heather’s face?”

“No, I’m saying that Dillan opened his mouth to say I do and literally fucking exploded.”

I laughed again, although it was forced this time. “Really funny dude. What the fuck are you talking about?”

The next thing I heard was Dillan start to sob. Like, legitly bawl his eyes out. The bad feeling from earlier returned ten fold.

“He’d… he’d been complaining about his tattoo all morning, it was getting itchy, and Toby just said it was healing, so just don’t touch it. Middle of the ceremony, he just opened his mouth before his eyes just bugged out and he grabbed his chest… and that’s all she wrote. It was like someone set off a bomb. Blood and guts just. Everywhere. Heather passed out, Toby took off running and when I went to go find him, it was the same thing. Blood everywhere. Oh my god, we’re going to fucking die. Those bitches put a curse on us or something, we’re all gonna fucking die!”

I looked down at my arm and slowly peeled off the bandage covering my tattoo. It looked innocent enough. Just a few simple black lines.

I heard Derek gasp.

“I… I don’t feel so good, it’s getting really itchy…”

I heard a gurgle before Derek screamed, only to be cut off by a disturbingly wet splatter and the phone dropping to the ground.

I ran to the bathroom to puke again.

I tried calling all the other guys. Only two picked up, Mark and Reece. Mark had been at the wedding and seen the whole damn thing, Reece had been sick in bed like I was and had slept through all the phone calls and texts. We agreed to meet up at Reece’s place.

I sorta knew Mark, we had a single class together when we went to highschool, but I only met Reece last night. I rolled up my sleeve to show off my tattoo, which had yet to itch but every little twitch had me thinking ‘this is it, I’m gonna go kaboom’.

We all sat in Reece’s kitchen while Reece was messing around with something on the counter. Mark legitimately whimpered as he showed off his tattoo on his chest. My blood ran cold when I realized the ink itself was starting to turn crimson. “I think it’s like a timer, the closer to red, the closer to… oh god, we’re so fucked,” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“You’re not going to fucking die,” Reece said, turning around. I yelped as I saw a knife in his hand.

“Jesus Christ, what are we doing with that?” I asked.

“Not we, you two.”

Reece sighed as he pulled down the neck to his turtleneck to show off the damned tattoo. “Listen, if it’s the tattoo making us blow up, then just get rid of the tattoo. I don’t know if I can skin my neck without actually killing myself, but you two stand a chance.” He sat down and continued sharpening the kitchen knife. “I’ll help you first, Parker. You’ll probably scar, but this means you won’t be dead, right?”

I swallowed as I stared at the sharp knife before I shook my head. “Shouldn’t you do Mark first?” I asked.

“I think we still have time, and I’ll feel better if I fuck up on your arm than I would if I accidentally stabbed Mark in the chest.” He gestured for my arm. “Faster we do this, the faster it’s over with. Gimme your arm.”

Jesus Christ, I felt time stop as I slowly offered my arm to this stone faced guy. Reece positioned the knife just above the tattoo before the knife went down.

The worst pain lit up every nerve on my arm and I screamed. Mark had to hold me down as Reece to slice off my skin to stop me from accidentally punching Reece. It was like someone was burning me alive.

I passed out sometime during this and when I woke up, I was surrounded by blood.

Not my blood, both Reece’s and Mark’s. Sometime when I was unconscious, they’d both blown up. It was like someone stuck them in a blender and then splattered them all over the walls. Even their clothes were in tiny little bits.

And to make matters worse, the tattoo isn’t gone. It’s penetrated all the way through my skin to my muscle… maybe even my bone.

I can’t tell how much longer I have, but I’m not going out without a fight. I’m sharpening more knives, I got some vodka out of Reece’s kitchen and I’m prepping myself for what I have to do. I will probably die doing this, but I will definitely die if I don’t do this.

If the tattoo is on my arm, then I guess my arm will just have to go.

[msbigredmachine]

I keep telling y’all twitter is full of morons.

This one out here claiming constructive criticism when he sounds like Trick refused to take a picture with him, lmao.