#Club-Banger

[vaunteir]

bgc is so gay/aroace hostility

[soonhoonsol]

JUN 🌇 EYES ON YOU (2024)

[lasagna-eater]

Desmond bartending at Bad Weather ♛

[sweattyspaghetti]

Edit: Tyler with celestia tee existed. Same brain. Same brain..

Hello fight club fandom. It is absolutely abysmal and also a crime how no one (at least to my knowledge) has drawn Tyler Durden in the princess celestia t shirt. We missed out

I have brainstormed multiple fc drawing ideas and hope that they become real.

[jonahmagnus]

TMA IF IT WAS A 2000s CHILDRENS LIVE ACTION SERIES

[Opening narration]

Hi, my name's Jon. Im a 7th grader, and kind of the smartest kid at school. Not that my bullies, Daisy and Basira, see me the same way, or let me have a day of peace, but genius is always underappreciated in its time.

[Scenes of him at school and Daisy and Basira being mean to him, knocking his books out of his hands, tripping him, etc. He has gigantic glasses and braces.]

I live with my older brother, Jonah, who is sooo annoying. All he does is play his keytar, modify his moterbike, hang out with his boYFrIeNd, and make fun of me for being smarter than him. Hes definitely moms favorite, which is totally not fair.

[Scenes of Jonah, a gender neutral young adult, messing around with a keyboard, changing the wheels on their bike, talking to a same-aged Mordechai Lukas, and holding a book above Jon's head and laughing.]

Then theres mom, Betty Holding. Their not really my mom, they dont have a gender, but it said "mom" as close enough.

[Scene of The Eye, a tall white person with long dyed blonde hair, cooking something while reading off a recipe book, before looking up, and winking at the camera.]

Yeah... mom is kiiiiind of the whole reason Im in this mess.

[Scenes of Jon finding a secret passageway in what appears to be The Beholding's offce, him in a dusty libray, and holding a book, with his friends (tim, sasha, martin, all also like 12,) leaning in to look.]

Oh right, did I mention Im currently running for my life?

[Cut to Jon & friends running from a weird monster thing down a hallway, before a freeze frame on them doing funny faces]

Listen, I'll look a lot less stupid if you let me explain it to you, okay?

[REWIND SOUND EFFECT]

[THEME SONG PLAYS, A CHIPPER UPBEAT GRAVITY FALLS ESKE REMIX OF THE TMA THEME]

[thegoodmorningman]

Ich wünsche Ihnen für immer jeden Tag einen guten Morgen, egal was passiert!!! (Sonst …)

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 70

Jaskier is the worst roommate Geralt could ever ask for. He comes home at odd hours of the night, constantly makes noise and chatter, and he brings home random strangers almost every damn night. It'll be three in the morning when Jaskier stumbles in, drunk off his ass, heeled shoes loudly clicking against their floor as he meanders about, squinting and knocking things over. At least he has the decency to mumble "Sorry" every time he breaks something, but is he apologizing to Geralt, or apologizing to the damn mop? He talks to himself, he sings to himself, he sings as a hobby, he sings as a job, he plays his lute/guitar loudly all throughout the day and night, he even talks in his damn sleep. Constant humming, singing, talking, muttering, whispering. Hookups and flings and fuckbuddies galore, both women and men. Not that Geralt cares, it was just something he observed. They'd steal his food, or use up the shower when Geralt was meant to be getting ready for work, or they'd leave and keep the door unlocked. The worst was when Jaskier's bachelor of the night mistook Geralt's bedroom for Jaskier's bedroom and very happily cozied up and went to sleep in Geralt's bed. Naked. Geralt didn't even care if he was high, drunk, or just dumb, he threw him out all the same. When Geralt's girlfriend, Yennefer, breaks up with him, he is comforted by Jaskier of all people. Coming home tipsy and without a shirt, and yet still sitting down next to Geralt and giving him a thoughtful, long, deep pep-talk. Maybe he isn't all bad, after all. Geralt is the worst roommate Jaskier could ever ask for. Don't get Jaskier wrong, Geralt is unbelievably easy on the eyes, but that's pretty much all he has. Geralt always looms silently in the dark, offers brutal remarks at best and grunts at worst, and for some reason always has a little blood on him. It'll be three in the morning when Jaskier stumbles in, drunk off his ass, and Geralt will just walk out of the shadows with an insanely deep "Did you remember to lock the door?", scaring the bleeding daylights out of him! He walks quieter than a damn cat! He should wear a bell like one! Fuck's sakes! Geralt's ~lovely~ comments are always harsh but sadly never truly unprompted. Jaskier will get stuck on a line and ask aloud for help, momentarily forgetting his only recent company has been Geralt, and Geralt will sometimes oblige him with an answer, such as "Can you shut up for five minutes?" "It's too late for this shit." "I hate it." So on and so forth. Jaskier learns to stop asking... Mostly. Jaskier went to shave one time, and found blood in the sink. He looked over at Geralt and asked him if he had cut himself shaving. Geralt said no. Jaskier REASONABLY asked why there had been blood in the sink, and got the answer "Work." WORK?????? "And your job is what?! BLEEDING INTO SINKS!?" and yet Geralt was already walking out the door. But then one night he comes home, to find Geralt waiting for him - Silently, alone in the dark, just sat there. Like always. Weirdo. - demanding his half of the rent. Fuck. Fuck, Jaskier completely forgot- Jaskier starts panicking. He explains how he doesn't have the money, that some of his latest gigs have backed out on him or refused him pay for bullshit reasons and he didn't earn as much as he expected to, and begs to not be kicked out. He's surprised when Geralt calms him down from his spiral, and tells him to take a deep breath and wash away his tears - Shit, when did he start crying? - He comes back and Geralt sits him down and explains he'll cover the entire rent this month, his work had gone extra well recently. He knows what it's like for people to pull out pay or suddenly ignore your deal, and won't hold it against Jaskier, but expects him to be able to pay next time. Jaskier is so overjoyed he hugs Geralt. And Geralt lets him. Maybe he isn't all bad, after all.

[getosugurusbangs]

on the stage in my heels, it’s where i belong!

[yujaeren]

Renjun Faded in my last song

[melit0n]

Most of the time my liking of Vessel is more of an admiration than an attraction, but like, once I month I see a photo or clip of him and I'm like yeah. If I was a fisherman in the middle of the Atlantic I'd have NO chance

[beetlethebug]

And if I wrote the pilot program all messily getting together during a chimeron house party, would y’all be into that?

[bidamonalbarn]

say what u want abt him but joe alwyn is THE muse of all time..

[litstepdad]

The substance is actually the craziest and best horror movie I think I've ever seen. The practical effects were absolutely fucking bonkers and blew me out of the water. The body horror was so grotesque that there were moments I had to stand up because i was so out of my mind. The constant push and pull between Elisabeth and Sue, the theme of trying to escape yourself, and the mother-daughter mirrors were absolute fucking bonker additions. Even the ending made me so fucking depressed but it was absolutely beautiful with how it called back to Carrie where yeah, Elisasue is ruined from the experience with no hope of going back, but at least she thoroughly traumatized the people who made her into the monster she became.

[turnipoddity]

you would absolutely love fight club, i just know it. ever look into it?

I absolutely LOVE fight club 🥰

[anitalianfrie]

cele/bezz + things you said when you were drunk

-daisy (@lastlatebraker)

things you said when you where drunk (bezzetti)

“Stronzo! Eat your own things, not mine!” shouts Pecco, shoving Mig aside. Mig collapses on the chair, laughing, a big laugh that comes from the stomach, and Luca falls down on the sticky surface of the table, headfirst, shoulders shaking. 

Cele looks at them from the other side of the table, eyes blinking, trying to clear his head. He drank just enough to feel completely stupid, but now he wishes the feeling could be washed away in a second, with a snap of his fingers. It’s five am, and they are sitting inside of a kebab shop, after getting out of the club all wobbly and laughters, leaning onto each other to not fall down. 

Nelli, the only one sober enough to still walk straight, plops down in the chair next to his, the tray in his hands hitting heavily the table, a couple of chips falling out of it and on the wood, thanks to the impact. Somebody’s hand immediately reaches out to get them. 

Cele kind of feels in his own world. Words don’t stick, flying around in his head, and he can’t grab them, make them stay still enough for him to give them any meaning or sense. 

He keeps blinking, hard, in the hope of something sticking. Nothing does. 

Something hits him in the shoulder, hard. He almost jumps from the surprise, but then he turns his head, and it’s only Marco. Marco who drank too much, so much that when they got into the kebab shop he simply collapsed onto a table and didn’t say a word, didn’t even ask for food. 

He always gets like this, when he drinks too much. Confused and loose limbed. Affectionate, almost sticky in his need. Cele doesn’t mind it, when Marco comes from behind him on the dance floor and hugs him tight, screaming in his ear, or when he wraps one of his arms around his waist while they wait for their drinks at the bar. He likes it, actually.  

Maybe more than he should. 

Cele gets one of his arms around Marco’s shoulders and squeezes, bringing him a bit closer. Marco smiles, his eyes closed.  

The others are still talking, laughing, and Luca is moving his hands around wildly, pieces of lettuce flying out of his sandwich. Cele stops trying to understand what they are saying. 

Marco starts nuzzling against Cele’s neck, and the brush of his untamed hair against his skin makes him ticklish. It’s... nice. A smile spreads on his lips. He can feel Marco’s mouth stretching against his neck, in a curve that’s twin to his own. 

Cele mindlessly puts one of his hands in Marco’s curls, playing with them, and Marco melts against him.  

It’s only the two of them in the whole world. 

After some time, Marco, uncoordinated and messy, puts one hand on Cele’s thigh and climbs up with his mouth, reaching Cele’s ear. 

“You know.” he says, whispers, and Cele can feel his lips against his skin. The sting of his scruff.  

“You know,” he continues, “I think. If you were a girl. I would fuck you.” and then he giggles, one of his soft laughs, burying his head deep down into the crook of his neck, pushing his nose against the muscles. 

Cele can feel his blood pumping, in his hands, in his veins, in his carotid against which Marco is hiding his face. He doesn’t-  

He tries to make sense of the word he just heard. Maybe the alcohol just scrambled them too. But Cele can see them, written in front of his eyes, and they are not moving. He can feel their sour taste against his tongue with extreme clarity. 

If you were a girl. 

Cele wishes the alcohol could make him feel stupid again, sheepish and without a care in the world. But it’s too late. It’s gone now. 

If you were a girl. 

Mig shoves a chip in his face. 

“Do you want it? I put some lemon on it, it's a banger!” 

Cele takes the chip. 

It tastes like tears. 

Marco keeps nuzzling against his neck. 

send me a pairing and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic