#BUT I HAVE NO TIME

[davidtennan-t]

the first time there’s any sign of alien activity after fourteens retirement and he’s just sat on a lawn chair in the Nobles garden with a book and a drink, glancing up to see whatever the fucks going on through his prescription reading glasses and saying ‘not my problem’ and taking a little sip through his multicoloured straw

retired king behaviour

[yellowwwcrayon]

suburban neighbors AU

I want to do an AU where Wade moves into a gated community and spots his new neighbor outside, drinking beer and mowing his lawn in a sweaty tank top and booty shorts; and the little old ladies across the street sees him gawking and pulls Wade aside to tell him Logan is the resident homewrecker, like he's broken up two marriages already (Jean and Scott and Eric and Charles). None can withstand his slutty ways, so he should stay away if he wants to survive with his relationships intact. Wade's like, "well, lucky for him, I am painfully single."

Basically, I just want to write Logan being so unintentionally sexy that he wrecks marriages with his mere existence in the vanilla-ass suburbs and Wade simping for him and talking through his weird feelings with his walking group gal pals whose average age is 68 years young. Yes, Al is in that walking group and she fucking hates listening to him talk about his man crush but there are no other walking groups in the neighborhood and she was there first.

“Are you ok?” 

“No,” Wade was shaking from head to toe, “I went over there to yell at him for blocking our shared driveway, but he answered the door in a slutty little towel and I think I blacked out.” 

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Did you really?” 

“Either that or I asked to suck his cock,” He poured himself a tall glass of water from the tap and gulped it down. Wade wiped his mouth on the back of a hand and exhaled, “God, I hope it was the former.” 

Loud aggressive banging came from the front door then. 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah, I’d put my money on the verbal sexual harassment. Want me to grab my baseball bat?” 

“What am I gonna do with your baseball bat?” 

“Fuck him up.”

“I want to fuck him, not fuck him up. There’s a difference, child. Pay attention.”

[sonchop]

you know so many people, including me, can't stop thinking and talking about that very upcoming "plot twist" from the new pjo series because they read the book

well, i don't, but I have the power of trauma from the 2010 and 2013 films

we are different

[raikirikiri]

missing-nin kakashi who leaves the village on his own accord. he’s pushed to the edge, and despite all the anbu missions he’s taken to get himself killed, it just doesn’t work. so he leaves and becomes a mercenary and thinks he might have some luck dying that way. he thinks part of him is still loyal to konoha but it doesn’t feel like home anymore. plus the constant needling of his ex-classmates insisting their his friends when he knows he doesn’t deserve friends, he barely deserves comrades.

so he leaves. and he does the jobs he takes well and yes, he’s still hoping he dies but he’s too good at being a shinobi so he keeps living. no matter how accidental.

he has a good fortune by the start of canon time but id like to believe he lives in a cave with a ratty futon and a few shabby changes of clothes. he lives an extremely solitary life but he’s…healed. a little. he’s never forgiven himself, he probably never will, but he’s made some sort of peace with himself and his actions.

meanwhile. the akatsuki is forming. itachi, kisame, sasori, kakazu, pain, konan, zetsu, obito (still in the shadows). almost the whole crew is there, they just need to round out their numbers a little. and who better to approach than missing-nin copy ninja kakashi? pain brings it up first one rainy day in ame. obito, or madara, is meeting with pain, konan, and zetsu and pain brings up kakashi first.

obito chokes out a no, barely hanging onto his madara act. no, he denies vehemently. the mean thought enrages something in him and the thought of having to see kakashi’s beautiful ugly mug more than he already does (because yes, he may be a missing-nin but obito wouldn’t be a stalker if he couldn’t find his prey over and over again) is brain melting and heart stopping in a very very negative way.

of course pain has to ask why, madara has never had such a visceral reaction to suggestion for a recruit.

his pants around his ankles, obito has to scramble for an excuse and it’s a little more elegant than “he’s not evil enough”. obito shuts the conversation down then and there, deciding to come back to it at a later date when he can be prepared for his ex-teammate’s name to be brought up again.

for the next three years, any time they’re low on numbers, kakashi’s name comes up and obito always struggles to react normally and his answer is always some iteration of “he’s not evil enough”. so hidan comes up with the brilliant idea to force him to be evil, similar to how they forced deidara to join the akatsuki.

obito, failing to come up with counter arguments and running out of excuses, concedes. pain, during their monthly meetings where tobi is madara, is pleased. he suggests sending itachi to fetch him, since they were once anbu together and seeing a familiar face may help. obito vetoes this and decides he’ll go get kakashi himself. he’s, of course, seen how being away from the village has affected him. and while he’s entirely competent, he’s almost too competent. and doesn’t do well with surprises.

without further preamble, he kamuis into kakashi’s cave, startling him and causing him to spill his soup everywhere. now, kakashi is very much attack first, talk second at this point in his life. having been away from society for so long has allowed his hatake genes to really take over and he’s become much more uhhh instinct driven.

so once he gets over his initial shock and his initial reaction of ‘kill kill kill’, he freezes. he’s always had a sharp sense of smell but it’s on a different level now and there’s something familiar about this strange ghost man. for someone so ghoulish, he has a scent and it lights a lamp in kakashi’s subconscious.

‘i know you’ kakashi accuses, a snarl rising in his throat. this ghoul man is in his cave, his private space, he wants answers.

‘do you?’ a deep voice asks, sounding surprised and amused.

kakashi weighs his options of arguing with ghost guy or figuring out why the hell ghost guy just…appeared in his cave.

‘i’m here to take you to join the akatsuki’ ghoul man decides for him. kakashi grunts and picks up his overturn bowl.

‘no thanks’ he states, scooping some soup from the pot into his bowl.

‘it’s not an invitation’ the apparition snaps and kakashi pauses. he sniffs towards ghost guy again but he still can’t place the scent to the man.

‘can you please leave? i’m trying to eat my dinner and well…’ kakashi asks (but of course it’s more of demand), pointedly gesturing to his mask.

‘what? no. you’re coming with me,” obito growls, his eye twitching in irritation. after all these years, all his suffering, all he’s learned and how much he’s grown…bakakashi still gets under his fucking skin.

‘i don’t want to’ kakashi pouts, petulance and amusement in his tone.

‘you don’t get a choice’ obito hisses in madara’s voice. it sounds wrong and entirely too much like obito.

‘maa, what do i get out of it?’ hatake drawls, a glint in his eye that tells obito hes enjoying this far too much.

‘nothing. you get nothing except me letting you continue to live your sorry life’ obito snaps back, unable to stop the heat of annoyance racing up his spine.

‘how do you know my life is sorry?’ kakashi taunts loftily, crossing his arms and lifting his nose to the ceiling.

‘for the love of sage’ obito takes kakashi by the arm and warps them into kamui, uncaring if kakashi recognizes the jutsu or not. he just wants him to shut up. he should kill pain for making him do this. he would kill hidan but that fucker can’t fucking die.

‘hey i recognize that foot’ kakashi mutters to himself, eye squinted at the severed foot he warped into the dimension months ago. huh. that’s where the things he disappears go. interesting.

hey wait—

‘i know that look’ obito bites out, letting his facade drop. stupid fucking genius asshole.

kakashi gasps, eyes watering in disbelief. ‘don’t—don’t fucking do that. get it together already. you’re about to meet a bunch of fuckin’ s-ranked missing-nins, you can’t be crying’

obito’s voice is a little awkward this soft, but he’s sincere. he doesn’t know how or why he’s sincere, he hates kakashi. he thinks. he’s not too sure but he hasn’t been…soft…in years. but the sight of kakashi, broken and worn down, has something in him melting just a little.

‘you fucking dickhead’ kakashi croaks, shoving obito’s shoulder. ‘you fucking— fucking asshole! you were dead! you bastard, how could you not come back? how could you not tell me?’

kakashi’s voice is hard and cracking at the edges. it throws obito off entirely. his mouth opens and closes like a limp fish behind tobi’s mask, trying to find the words he should say.

after a few moments of kakashi’s hardened stare, obito finds himself feeling indignant. ‘i never thought you’d care’ he sneers. a lie.

‘you’re not that fucking good at lying still and i’m not dense. you’ve been stalking me. at least since i left the village’ kakashi accuses with a scoff.

‘i run a terrorist organization!’ obito shoots back hotly. ‘excuse me for thinking duty-driven kakashi wouldn’t take his dead sunshine-happy teammate becoming an s-rank criminal well!’ he seethes, finding he isn’t all that angry. this feels familiar.

‘oh please. i’d follow you till the end of the fucking earth’ kakashi spits before his eyes widen in shock, much like obito’s eye does. kakashi drops his full bowl of soup on the floor of kamui and covers his mouth with both hands.

obito makes a noise in the back of his throat, ‘don’t—‘ and then he’s ripping his mask off and pulling kakashi’s hands away from his face and tugging him close. lips to mask, he doesn’t care, he kisses kakashi fervently.

he tastes kakashi through the clothe of his mask, moaning at the way kakashi moans against him, the way kakashi’s fingers find themselves in obito’s hair. when they finally pull away, obito manages a please smile, cheeks bright red and pupil blown, ‘don’t follow me. walk with me.’

kakashi rolls his eyes and pulls him in for another kiss. ‘told you i knew you’ he whispers against obito’s lips, before nuzzling his face into obito’s neck, scenting him, marking him.

———

AHEM ANYWAY:

i think kakashi’s hair would be grown out, similar to how obito’s hair was during cave life with old ass madara. his already long canines would grow, and he’d be super in touch with nature. i think he’d be able to communicate with animals similar to how juugo is. basically, once away from the village and society, he becomes a lot more hatake-ish. just. kakashi growling and snarling snurfing at any akatsuki member that isn’t obito. or itachi. he’ll accept kisame eventually too, but that’s it. everyone else he does not talk to, only growls at.

[holidayinhell]

Whumpay: Denied Medical Treatment

Ineffective Medical Care prompt :~)

Characters: punk/alcoholic Whumper, injured/in denial Whumpee CWs: dealing with a poorly performed amputation, denial of medical care, necrosis (ick), alcohol.

Whumpee clutched his hand tightly against his chest. It burned with an intensity he’d never felt before and the bandages were long overdue to be replaced; his entire forearm had swollen to nearly twice its normal size. A throbbing ache radiated from the inflamed flesh, a grim reminder of the wound beneath the soiled layers of fabric. 

Beads of sweat trickled down his face, partly from anxiety and partly from the fever that wracked his weakened body.

Whumpee heard a pair of boots clacking against the cement floor, getting louder and louder as they approached his cell.

The heavy door swung open.

A shiny metal flask ricocheted off the floor next to Whumpee, making him jump. The sharp clatter against the concrete gave him an immediate headache.

“Use this to disinfect it. I don’t have any more bandages so you're gonna have to figure that out,” voiced the tall, skinny silhouette from the doorway.

Whumpee blinked to focus his eyes through the wetness. He'd been crying for the better part of the day, and the fever made him disoriented.

“Will you look at it?” The captive said feverishly, desperately clutching his hand to his chest. His temples throbbed from the echo of the room and his hand was burning like hellfire beneath the bandages. “I don’t-- I can’t do it.”

“Nope. I’m over this.” Whumper yawned and rubbed his eyes, not showing an ounce of concern for his captive. Whumper didn't care if Whumpee was in pain. He felt nothing but pure fascination for Whumpee.

“You have whatcha need, man, now it’s time to shut the fuck up.” Hlanky figure swayed and leaned against the doorframe, clearly already drunk for the evening. The punk turned, dizzily reaching for the door handle to make his exit.

“Wait, please. I really need to go to the hospital.” Whumpee pled with the remainder of his energy. “God, it hurts. It hurts so much, so fucking much, and it’s.." he sniffled, "starting to smell, I think.” 

Hot tears rolled down Whumpee's cheeks. “If I don’t go to the doctor, I’m gonna.. I’ll....”

Die.

But he couldn’t say it. Saying it would make it real.

“Fine.” Whumper hissed, shuffling into the cell. “But you’ve gotta stop crying and screaming and shit. Seriously. I can’t hear anything upstairs and I don't really feel like tying you up."

Whumpee dying on him now would be a huge inconvenience. There was a burn ban in effect so he'd have to go the burial route, and he didn’t particularly feel like digging a massive fucking hole all weekend.

"… oh fuck, that does reek.” Whumper had been around more than his fair share of death, but he never got used to the smell.

“thank you...” Whumpee offered weakly as Whumper eased himself next to Whumpee, wobbling into a kneel.

He gripped the edge of the elastic fabric and unwrapped the multiple layers of bandages encasing his left hand. As Whumper unraveled the cocoon, each layer he revealed was more and more saturated with putrid bodily fluids. Both men gagged once the wrappings were fully removed, the rotten odor ten times more potent than before. The horrible rancid smell filled the small space, thick and suffocating.

Tears streamed down Whumpee’s cheeks, his breath hitched as he fought to stay silent. It was his body that smelled like death. His hand was decaying while it was still attached to him.

He’d been ignoring the wound for as long as he possibly could, naively wrapping new bandages over the old ones when they started to weep.

“That is fucking nasty.” Whumper’s jaw clenched in disgust as he pinched his pierced nose closed. “Sheeit.”

Whumpee steeled himself before looking down at his maimed hand for the first time. His finger stubs had become necrotic and were rotting away, the remaining flesh was blackened and shriveled and his entire hand was unnaturally pale.

He never could bear to look at the mutilated stubs after Whumper had amputated his fingers all those weeks ago, as if ignoring the injury would somehow make his fingers magically grow back. Looking down now, the memory of that horrific night was just as vivid as the moment it happened.

“I think the whole thing’s gonna have to come off.” Whumper quipped unsympathetically, reaching for the flask he’d thrown on the floor, and took a swig.

“There's no saving that. You'll go septic if we don’t chop it soon.” He said eyeing Whumpee's disgusting hand between sips. "Going septic means you die." He added.

His whole hand. Whumpee was going to lose his entire hand because he’d asked for water all those weeks ago…

“Just take me to the hospital…please. Take me to the hospital. I won’t say anything, I won't say anything about this, I won't say anything about you. I won’t say anything about this ever.” Whumpee begged softly but emphatically. “I'll even come back after... But I--I need a doctor.”

“Sorry Whumpee-boy. That ain’t happenin’.”

“I’ll die!” He urged.

“Hey, what’d I just fuckin’ say?! Quit. Screaming.”

“You’re going to let me die…” The captive’s eyes were wide and pleading, hopelessness beginning to set in. He screamed, “You did this to me! All I needed was water and you, you fucking killed me!”

“Easy now.” Whumper cautioned with a finger.

Whumpee couldn't be silenced. He shouted, “Did I really deserve th--?!”

Whumper grabbed Whumpee’s jaw and silenced him. He held Whumpee in a chokehold, the captive’s head snapped back as he was forced to meet Whumper’s gaze. 

“Keep going and see what I cut off next.”

The larger man shoved Whumpee’s face down. His chin crashed against the cement. Whumpee's vision went black for a moment, until something pressed against his mouth.

Whumper was forcing the metal flask between his lips.

“Drink it. All of it.”

Whumpee tried pulling away but Whumper grabbed the back of his neck and shoved the flask deeper into his mouth, tilting his head back.

The bitter liquid trickled down his throat. Whumpee’s nostrils burned from the alcohol, but he did as he was commanded and chugged the astringent liquor.

“See? I’m being nice. It’ll help you sleep.”

Whumpee removed his lips from the flask once he’d finished and glanced at his captor from under his heavy eyelids. Whumper was swaying drunkenly, the metal from his eyebrow ring flashing in the dim light. If only Whumpee had the same strength from before his captivity, he could have easily overpowered the drunk psychopath and made his escape.

“I need to go to the fucking hospital, you piece of shit.” Whumpee spat.

He never talked to his captor in such a way, ever.

The last time he’d asked for something it cost him three fingers, or maybe an entire hand, but he was too delusional to filter himself.

Whumper let out an amused chuckle at the sudden outburst.

Then, he sent the heel of his boot crashing into Whumpee’s jaw. 

The injured man let out a blood-curdling shriek.

Whumpee howled in agony, clutching at his aching cheek with his good hand as he shuffled into the far corner of the room. His cheek swelled with blood and dribbled down his lips, sending a river of red gushing down his chin.

“I’ll deal with you in the morning” Whumper warned, his voice low and menacing. “You’ll be sorry if I have to come down here again tonight.” 

He pulled the heavy door closed behind him.

Numbness slowly enveloped the blinding pain, carrying Whumpee to the brink of sleep. The alcohol that burned in his stomach was a welcome distraction to the foul smell emanating from his decaying fingers. And through some divine mercy, he drifted into a hazy realm between consciousness and oblivion…

[ssantisheep]

Okay so last night i dreamed that in jjk kids were bonding with Gods to like fight evil people and like through an error in summoning Yuuji summoned and bonded with Sukuna who pretended to be the Gods of Sweet. In reality Sukuna was the God of pleasure. You know, especially flesh pleasure ? Sex but also War kinda deal. It is kind of nebulous but now i kinda want to write it!!

[imaginary-things-nothing-else]

Back in my "university-is-killing-me-and-I-have-so-many-ideas-for-fanfics-that-i-write-detailed-outlines-and-thoughts-every-day-but-i-have-no-time-to-actually-write-them" era.

[xraiyax]

I used up all my nap time drawing time so I’ll share this how it is.

[altcave]

not dead, just be workin two jobs. see y’all eventually

[moonage-dancer]

itching, throwing up, dying to watch the new paul simon documentary

[grungebutsoft]

PSA: Compliment Your Guy Friends

So I haven’t had a lot of experience in interacting with straight, cishet men until high school, but for three years now I’ve been working on it and I was just a part of a conversation a week ago in which some of my guy friends were lamenting about how they never get like physical compliments from people like how girls compliment each other all the time and I asked if that would be flirting if a female commented on a guy’s muscles (because to me it always seems to toe the line) and was told that, no, it would not be. It would just be nice.

Yesterday I tried complimenting a guy’s muscles for the first time ever (via “Dude I wish my muscles were as defined as ____’s are…”) because it is very evident that he puts the time and care into taking care of his muscles and LET ME TELL YOU: the WAY this man LIT UP. I mean he was ABSOLUTELY GIDDY. He felt SEEN and he was like “Omg that means SO MUCH to me!” And then he like danced away and had a little bit of happy hyper energy for a solid 10 minutes.

Anyway all this to say: PLEASE compliment guys more often they’re so cute and they deserve to be hyped up

[sprnkles]

need to get my time back so I can write!

[aashiyancha]

[i-am-a-fan]

…i’m sending telepathic communications to the clowns.

[danrifics]

what the fuck am i meant to make for phil’s birthday 😭

[waterlilychaser]

rewatching showtime’s the borgias and why is françois arnaud not a sirius black fancast?