#DREAM WAS TAKEN YOU FUCKIN BITCH

[majorbisexualpanic]

WHAT IS HAPPENING. IM IN CLASS TRYING NOT TO SCREAM MY ASS OFF. DREAM

[total-dxmure]

ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart. 

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach. 

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them. 

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself. 

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray. 

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent. 

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented. 

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science. 

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away. 

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell. 

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm. 

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers. 

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending. 

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her. 

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch. 

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . . 

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you. 

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor. 

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song. 

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty. 

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove. 

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene. 

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through. 

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along. 

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked. 

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button. 

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush. 

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college. 

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.” 

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over. 

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers. 

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you. 

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held  

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were- 

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.” 

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything. 

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in. 

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.” 

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her. 

You liked her. 

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid. 

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day. 

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for. 

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good. 

But also a bit empty. 

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to. 

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt. 

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room. 

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts. 

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing. 

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet. 

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so. 

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door. 

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it. 

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation. 

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell. 

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.” 

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah. 

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie. 

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band. 

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers. 

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even. 

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit. 

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass. 

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her. 

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after. 

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before. 

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard. 

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this. 

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear: 

Ellie was obsessed with you. 

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band. 

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse. 

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features. 

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing. 

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic. 

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus. 

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face. 

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs. 

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine. 

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm. 

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar. 

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents. 

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles. 

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot? 

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth. 

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy. 

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room. 

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know. 

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.” 

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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[stvolanis]

can u write a smut which farleigh start has a breeding kink? i was so shy to ask but here we are...

Of course! don’t be shy, I love getting requests like this!

HOT & HEAVY

(a one shot)

PAIRINGS:Farleigh Start x reader

WARNINGS: foul language, clingy!Farleigh, pet names, fluff!

NSFW WARNINGS: breeding kink!!, cream pie, overstimulation, praise, light dumbification, cock warming

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Farleigh was more antsy than usual. More observing and jumpy.

He’d been this way ever since last nights party when his friend, Mark, had arrived with a 1 year old in his arms. Said he was babysitting, although a party full of drunken and strung out people didn’t sound like an ideal place.

So, that’s what made you take it upon yourself to care for the child that night while everyone else had fun. You didn’t mind at all, matter of fact, you were excited. You were amazing with kids, and you’d much rather be spending your time taking care of one than having a killer hangover the next morning.

Farleigh had watched silently as you bounced the 1 year old, who’s name he learned was Marceline, on your hip half the night. The way she would babble on and on while chewing on your fingers absentmindedly while you casually talked to other people. The little giggles the little girl let out when you’d tickle her stomach, the smiles on both of your faces adoring.

Then it got him thinking.

What if that was his baby that you were holding instead? The one he’d only ever dreamed of having with you? How great of a mother you would be; naturally so caring and loving, kindness a default in your tender nature.

So of course it was the only thing spiraling in Farleighs’ mind for nearly 2 weeks since it happened.

Then his mind drifted off to….other things.

How beautiful you’d look swollen, full of his seed. Breasts sore, tender to the touch and full of milk he’d selfishly want to keep to himself. Everyone would know you were his, how could they not? He would be within 4 feet of you at all times if you’d fallen pregnant. The ‘scary guard dog’ over your shoulder, yet staring at you with the upmost love.

but you, innocent little you, were completely unaware of this.

So you gasped in shock when Farleigh had taken it upon himself to bend you over the kitchen counter when you were trying to make chocolate chip muffins.

You wore a baby pink robe with nothing but lilac laced panties underneath. “Baby, what—“ you started, but you were hushed by the feeling of his cock pressed against your already dampening cunt. “You little fuckin’ minx. Don’t know what you do to me, love.” He whispered in your ear.

You heard his pants drop to the floor behind you, and he pushed your panties to the side, lining his tip that was laced with pre-cum to your throbbing entrance that was clenching around nothing.

You whimpered as he pushed his fat tip in before filling you to the brim full of his cock. He was freakishly long, the biggest you’d ever taken the only cock you’ve ever taken, he was at least 8 inches, maybe a little more.

You could feel his tip kiss your cervix and your mouth hung agape, breathless as he began to relentlessly pound into you. His balls slapped against your clit with every thrust he delivered, and his hands gripped at your waist harshly, yet the angel kisses he delivered to your shoulders were gentle.

“Gonna fill you, baby. Gonna stuff you so full, you’re gonna look so so pretty when I’m done with you, honey.” He nearly whimpered out. Your cunt was spasming around him, and he knew you liked the idea by the way you clamped down onto him. You were so tight around him, he felt like he was gonna lose his mind if he couldn’t rut himself into you.

Farleigh was like a bitch in heat; and he was no better than you in this position. He was equally as a mess as you were. Both of you moaning uncontrollably, gripping at anything just to hold yourselves stable. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head when his fingers met your clit.

He rolled your bundle of nerves between his fingers harshly, adding just the right amount of pressure to make you see stars. He was using you like a fleshlight, a cocksleve that was made specifically for him. And the worst best part about it? You had absolutely no complaints.

You’d gladly let your needy boy use you anytime he wanted to if it meant getting your brains fucked out.

He gently craned your neck back by your hair “Gonna make you a mommy. Yeah? You want that? You wanna make me a daddy, sweetheart?” He asked against your lips. You whimpered and whined, his cock still drilling into you at an alarming rate. “Y-yesss, oh fuck! Farleigh! Whatever you want!” You all but yelled out.

He somehow managed to let out a half-assed chuckle in amusement. “Nearly fucked my baby dumb, I think. Don’t even know what you’re agreeing to.” He said as he held your face back down against the marble countertop. The way he towered over you, and overpowered without even trying is what had you tumbling over the edge with a loud moan.

You released all over him, his happy trail becoming sticky with your cum. But he wasn’t finished, hell, he hasn’t even had his release yet, but the way your cunt ached around him trigged it.

He shot his hot, sticky seed deep into your fertile womb with a satisfied groan. “I’ve fucked a baby into you now, yeah?” He asked, condescendingly. You were on too much of a high to even process the words the taller man was saying to you.

You felt him pick you up, and somehow turn you around on his cock, now facing him as he carried you to the couch. He sat down with you still on him, and began rubbing slow circles onto your numb clit.

You whined as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. “S’too much, Farleigh!” You whimpered out, but your pleas fell to deaf ears. “Shh, I know, baby. Just gotta make sure you stay nice n’ full of my cum.” He whispered out as he rubbed his hand up and down your back with his free hand soothingly.

“My good girl, hm? Takin my cock so well, princess.” He said as he kissed the top of your head. You nodded, still clinging onto him like your life depended on it.

Your eyes felt heavy with sleep as your boyfriend trailed his kisses down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. You were half awake, having your second orgasm as his fingers began to toy with your clit more feverishly.

Your swollen bud aching painfully, yet somehow still feeling so good just from his skilled fingers. “M’gonna cum again, Farleigh!” You moaned out as you humped yourself against his fingers at the same pace he was toying with you.

“Just let it happen, baby. So good f’me.” He cooed in your ear as you felt yourself squirt all over him for a second time. He groaned as he felt your juices slide down his cock. It was such a pretty sight.

You stuffed so full of his cock and cum, whimpering and helpless as you sat on him. The way your cunt squelched when you’d attempt to get off, yet Farleighs rough hands held you down.

You fell asleep in his arms, his cock still planted in you. Farleighs only hope was that you’d wake up with morning sickness, and if you didn’t, he’d have no problem fucking you everyday till you did.

Sure enough, after 2 weeks of the both of you fucking like rabbits every damn day, you’d finally fallen pregnant with your first child, and you and Farleigh couldn’t be any happier.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Bexxx my darling. We’ve had the conversation, are horny for the concept so I’m pounding this into the ask box even harder than they’re gonna pound the damn reader.

AU!Billy, Stu, Mickey and Ethan x reader. All alive or as Ghosts whichever is best. All of them going full blown slut on the reader, Stu in the mouth, Billy in the cunt, Mickey in the ass and Ethan in the hand (until he’s not *wink*) . We’ve discussed a lot of it already so GIRL, I know how you’re going to go with this. In advance, poor, sweet Ethan, slutty teasing Billy, supportive icon Stu and Mickey with the GUIDING. I’m going to burst into flames.

I LOVE YOU DUDE!

BITCH, I LOVE YOU! I wrote this all tonight in one sitting, I hope you all enjoy this! Billy AND Stu AND Mickey AND Ethan?! I mean, say fucking less, that is a dream I need to experience. Multi-May continues! I hope you all love this straight-up nasty smut in the afterlife.

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.2K. Poly!Ghostface. Billy Loomis/Stu Macher/Mickey Altieri/Ethan Landry/AFAB! Dead Victim Reader! She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Five-Some. Orgy. Hair Pulling. Gagging. Group Sex. Hand Job. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Triple Penetration. Vaginal Sex. Throat Fucking. Anal Sex. Pre-Mature Ejactualation. Sloppy Seconds. Multiple Orgasms.

---

"Four In One."

You have never been so fucking full. It was taken right out of your most depraved and wild fantasies, an impossibility and yet here you were, mouth, cunt, ass and one of your hands full.

In the vague haze of your mind, you are reminded of a phrase for being in this exact situation, that being “completely airtight”. 

Some people might think that sex in the afterlife is not a thing, however it was one of the most beloved pass times, you have no physical limitations and nothing but time, it only makes sense. 

You being a victim that had fallen to Ghostface most would assume you’d hate them. You did at one point. Eternity is a long fucking time, though. 

So you got involved with the man who killed you and a few other previous Ghostface’s? It was your business, you were dead, you didn’t care if any other victims or whoever judged you, especially when it felt this fucking good. 

They had managed to get you into a good position, and with all of them helping, you didn’t need to worry about holding yourself up, which is good because you were fucking boneless. 

Billy was buried in your cunt, Stu was in your mouth, Mickey was in your ass, and you had a firm grip on Ethan. The smell was heady, the chorus of moans and skin on skin was obscene, and you were unable to stay still, being pushed and pulled in multiple directions, covered in sweat and thankful for the fact you didn’t have to worry about breathing. 

Stu was pulling your hair, dragging you nearer, your nose pressed to coarse hair, his head tipping back with a moan, “Fuck yes, when you swallow around the head it feels fucking fantastic-” He pulled harder, and you gagged, you didn’t really, but you knew Stu liked when you did, so you mimic it, you feel him throb on your tongue and Billy groans. 

“When she gags she clenches beautifully, man.” He breathed and Mickey agreed, “God yeah, she feels fucking perfect tonight.” 

You are soaking up the praise, pleasure sinking into the very marrow of your bones, you manage to open your eyes, curious why Ethan was being so quiet, and he is staring right at you and oh no. The poor boy. His curls are sweat soaked, bottom lip tugged by his teeth, face flushed, and it is spreading down to his chest, when your eyes lock he moans, he is pulsing in your hand and Stu notices the moment you, and he were sharing. 

“You alright there, Eth?” Stu asked, and the response came out strained, “Feels so good, too fuckin’ good, sh-she looks and God, how she sounds, I-I dunno if I can make it-”

Billy cuts in, his hips slowing, “Oh hey man, you gotta wait till you get in one of her holes at least.” 

You nod as much as you are able to with Stu’s hand in your hair and his dick down your throat, you wanted that, you desperately wanted Ethan to cum in one of your holes, Hell you wanted all of them to cum either in you or on you, it was a deep and clawing craving that was refusing to leave. 

Mickey’s pace was getting sloppy, he was thrusting harder and harder, faster and being totally selfish in the way only he can be when he is close, fully worried with chasing his own release, you say a silent prayer, happy that your ass could take the punishment he was doling out. “Fuck, fuck, you won’t have to wait long, Ethan.”

Mickey thrusts inside you three more times and then holds deep as he unloads inside of you with an utterance of your name. The rush of heat makes you choke and moan on Stu’s shaft with a shudder. 

You stop stroking Ethan, worried that he is going to cum, your hand grips the base of his shaft tightly to ensure he wouldn’t spill over quite yet.

Mickey stays in you for a moment, barely grinding his hips, milking the aftershocks and every ounce of pleasure out of his orgasm. You feel his head tip, his forehead rests on your shoulder, you feel the press of his lips, a kiss, sweet, before he pulls out with a groan, and spreads you, he can see your wrecked looking hole, slowly leaking his cum. 

Mickey looks over your body still being rocked between Billy and Stu, and he says easily, “Get over here, Ethan.” 

You let go of him, and he practically scrambles to get behind you, almost falling over the tangle of the other boys limbs on the way. Stu and Billy laugh, Mickey shaking his head, “Bless him.”

“So cute.” Stu confirms. 

Billy holds still and motions for Stu to do the same, “Ease up while he gets in there.” 

The blonde complies and they all watch, Ethan’s hands rest on your ass, and he looks adorably nervous, he is practically shaking, breathing erratic, he looks painfully hard and is leaking so much pre-cum. It’s like he is almost rooted to the spot, staring down at your slowly leaking hole. You push on Stu’s hip, and he allows it, pulls out of your mouth, and you look over your shoulder at him, you clear your throat before saying, “C’mon Ethan, please?”

He curses quietly, and then you watch Mickey come up behind him, one hand on Ethan’s hip and the other reaches around him, grips the base of his cock and says, “Lemme help you out.” 

Ethan almost jumps out of his skin, tenses but gives a single nod once, consenting with more than the action, he begs, “Please, yes, I-I want to so bad but, I can’t-.” 

“I know man, it’s alright, I got you.” Mickey soothed, and he pushes forward on Ethan’s hip, his other hand guiding Ethan’s cock, the blunt head presses to your nearly raw and well lubed hole. When the tip breaches Ethan comes back to himself, fingers dig into ample flesh, and he pushes, you moan and encourage him, “Fuck yes, please-”

Mickey lets go, his grin is positively wolfish as he watches the show unfold. 

Ethan curses again, and he shoves in roughly, about halfway before pulling out, the poor guy only gets less than ten pumps in, not even fully inserted, before he is cumming with a strangled cry, body a quaking, sweat slicked mess. He is apologizing over and over, gasping for breath, “M’ sorry, fuck, sorry, sorry, felt too fuckin’ good, couldn’t stop it-”

“S’ okay.” You reassure as he pulls out, “You’ll last longer next time.” 

Billy is laughing and starting to thrust into you again, “Fuckin’ pathetic, man.”

Stu shoved Billy’s shoulder and said, “Oh lay off, you didn’t last much longer first time you got in that ass.” 

You giggled, “He’s right, you know.” Stu taps your cheek and says, “Open up.”

Mouth falling open in compliance, he re-inserts, you still had to get the last two off and were eager to do so. You can hear Ethan trying to defend himself to Mickey, “I could feel Billy in her pussy when I was in there, and it was too much!”

“The extra friction will get you, it’s true.” Mickey sympathizes, and you suppress a laugh, trying to focus on sucking the dick in your mouth and moving your hips in time with Billy’s thrusts. 

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Dayum i had a Murder Drones dream bruh

I'll tell ya the clips i remember from it, if any

Soooo there's a point where N is inside a school and he's looking around for sumthin' idfk and he stumbles upon a little girl drone with white eyes and i think jet black hair?? And she's obviously a fun lover that doesn't wanna be here but she recognizes it's a necessity so she rolls with it and does her stuff as told– okay so apparently she's gotta finish some homework about animals, what they are and what they do, the sort, and she's like- talking a lot about her home and how her family has to pay for wifi or sumthin' etc etc and N just goes "oh is that homework? Do you have to describe animals? I can help!"

And then the girl drone (who i'm calling Leni) just goes "yeah it's homework, boring but i gotta do it- it's something about animals, what they do and all- i sortaaaaa didn't finish it because i was bored out of my mind..." And N just spots a Sonic figurine on a shelf somewhere and goes "hey, what if you talked about that guy over there?" He means the Sonic figurine on the shelf, "what does a hedgehog do? Does it like anything? You could describe a hedgehog, it's an animal!" And Leni is just. "Heh, thanks dude!" And my lordy the smile N gives it kills me oughhhh yes baby boy you did a help a girl with homework!!! Uzi is lucky to have you ough

Another clip! There's the typical big dumb creepy guy that puts kids in detention trope! Yeah he just scruffs one like a cat and tosses them onto a hook, hanged like cloth (NOT HURT THOUGH! ALIVE AND HEALTHY!) And they're just "hey dude what did i do?! Get me off this thing!!" And the big creepy guy just. Giggles at 'em as he walks away. Idfk what else happened after that- but it has to do with N???? Did he fuck up????? He's a good boy who did no wrong wtf he stopped killing a long time ago!!! The Uzi simp allegations are exaggerrated!!!!!! Leave him alone bitch!!!!!!!!

So apparently the detention drone is just like. Roaming around the school, and N is just staying out of it's sight at all times– keeping Leni safe from it too because they're buddies now and he's a good boy– and at some point taps his foot on the floor lightly to make a sound to test if it can hear and... It does not. It's big stupid AND probably deaf. Or they're just lucky idk lol

Also Cyn is there too. There's a moment after the whole detention drone shebang where Cyn pops up behind some doors and is accompanied by like- another girl drone with ponytails and black hair that is also Solver infected, and she's already gotten the eldritch claws for hands too so she's probably been infected before even like- Camp Fever, to give you an idea of the time frame, and Cyn is just. "You said "shit" now you're getting punished" and apparently getting taken out of the school is a punishment??? They're just. Grabbed and Cyn fuckin' flies away with them both, leaving them with the rest of the gæng in a like- place with two random drop pods like the ones from episode 1 and 3, and fun fact! V and Uzi are there! They're alive and well! And yes N hugs Uzi first thing, ig Leni gets to meet the rest of the bunch now lol.

Oh yeah there's also Tessa i guess lmfao idk what she's lookin' for now

[dirtyvirgotarot]

THE WEEK AHEAD - 7/9/23 PICK-A-CARD READING! 🧚

Fairies abound this week! Get yourself a reading that's fairy blessed! I am so excited to give you advice from my consorts this week, so grab a snack and let yourself tune in to the beauty surrounding you as you read about your week! I'll see you in your fairy beautiful pile! ;D ~~~~~~~~ Pile 1 (The Fairy): Your Fairy Advice Cards: Believe (Magic is there when you believe, So dream big things you can achieve!) and Sunrise (Every sunrise sings a song, Don't worry, be happy, Just sing along) Your Tarot: Two of Swords, The Emperor, Seven of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles RX Pile 1!! You have found strength in yourself and courage this week! You are cutting out what is bad for you, no matter how small, and you may be seeing returns in finances! You are stepping into your 'no fucks given' energy this week. You've had enough of the bullshit, so you're tuning out the voices and just focusing on the bag and you, nothing else. You will be radiating with power, but a calm kind. The power that self-love can give! Lots of time to yourself this week, I don't see you doing much. You're staying home and baking cookies, taking bubble baths, reading books, keeping it quiet this week, and I fuckin' salute you!! This week is your bitch! 🙉👑💰🍪💞💪 ~~~~~~~~ Pile 2 (The Locket): Your Fairy Advice Cards: Support (There is always help around, When you ask, it can be found) Your Tarot: The Tower RX, The Lovers RX, Four of Wands, Knight of Cups You may have just gone through a detrimental breakup or loss of some kind, or have found that your feelings are unrequited, have been rejected, or have found that they or family members were abusive in some form and managed to get away. It's taken a toll on you, and you're feeling very down, but don't let that stop you from going out and doing things, don't close your heart off, even though the pain might be great. I see someone else coming in hot! Someone who will actually meet you in the middle, someone who will protect and care for you. Your friends are also sympathetic to your sadness, and are there to support you! They're here to help you out, to be your wingman! Don't lose hope. You may be down, but you're not out! I see this new love coming in hearing about why you're single, and being absolutely outraged. It may be a friend that's come to comfort you, and you may just fall into their arms, and want to stay there forever! It may also be someone you meet at a party or function, and you get to talking, they find out your previous relationship didn't go well, and they decide they wanna fix that. Trust them, and trust your friends! They're here for you! 🔪💔😭❣️🫂💓 ~~~~~~~~ Pile 3 (The Butterflies):

Your Fairy Advice: Rain (Rain, rain, comes today, Let all your troubles wash away) Your Tarot: Five of Wands, The High Priestess, The Magician, Ten of Pentacles You may find yourself in petty drama the beginning of the week, but alongside it, your intuition is HIGH. You're going to be making magic happen this week, focusing on the bag!! You're taking the high road on something, staying in your grace, and showing those petty losers squabbling over nothing that they could've been using their time to get coins. I sense dignity from you, yet a bit of anger at those who've slighted you. As long as you keep things calm and don't match their energy, they'll be learning their lesson and then some this week, and you will be heavily rewarded! Tune out those voices, and you might see things happening that you didn't expect were possible this week! Some unexpected surprises, or information coming in that will benefit you! 💢💡🧘💰🎉😆 ~~~~~~~~ Pile 4 (The Meadow): Your Fairy Advice: Shake It Off (If you fall and others jeer, Just shake it off and walk with cheer) and Wishing Well (To make some wish magic, cast this spell, Throw pennies into the wishing well) Your Tarot: Death RX, 9 of Pentacles, Justice, The Star, The Sun RX You may recently have quit your current job, or are going to quit this week. Others around you may not be approving of your decision, or are giving you a bit of hell for it. It is a bit of a risk, but I see it working out splendidly! You made the right choice about something despite any doubt that you or people around you have had. Right now you may be looking for your next career path, or have gotten accepted for a new one and haven't started yet, but you will soon see your decision was exactly where you're supposed to be, and for some, it may be the path they'll take for the rest of their lives!! Wishes are coming true this week, and by the start of next week, you will be shining with pride and optimism! Congratulations, go you!!! ❌😓🔍❗🙏🌞 ~~~~~~~~ General Afterthoughts and Notes for All Piles:

LOTS AND LOTS of Major Arcana cards came out this week! NINE in total! Lots of big energy shifts this week, lots of meaningful changes and realizations for the better, and lots about folks finding their worth. Whether it be their self-worth, their abilities work-wise, there's lots about tuning out the voices around them and focusing on what you need to do for yourself, and putting yourself and your needs first this week! While it's always important, it's particularly important this week for most! Have a wonderful week everyone, don't let anything stop you!! You're strong, and you are worthy!!! 💪💝 -DV💜💚

[toomuchracket]

really miss ross and shy gf—maybe she has a “friend” who’s basically a little bitch and always ends up taking her for granted until girlie finally stands up for herself and ross is just. so proud of her. 🥹

you say no to ONE weekly coffee catchup because you're spending the day with ross and his family (a big deal!) and she acts like you've fuckin declined an invitation to her wedding, giving it "oh yeah you'll pie me off to go and spend some time with your new rockstar boyfriend, i don't fucking matter do i, no, you only care about your little famous fling, and not the people you've been close to for years, i see how it is, you bitch" - you just fucking SNAP and laugh derisively like "oh, you see how it is? i'm pieing you off for a boyfriend? well, now you know how it feels. for YEARS you've completely taken me and our friendship for granted, ignoring me in favour of those fucking dipshits you call boyfriends and then coming back to me when they inevitably leave you and acting like nothing's happened. it's always all about YOU, and i'm fucking sick of it. so yeah, i WILL pie you off for ross, who actually cares about spending time with me and doesn't just do it out of habit or for attention. fuck off". while you're saying all this on the phone, ross is on the couch opposite you, staring at you wide-eyed with an increasingly big smile on his face; when you hang up, he beams like "that was fucking inCREDIBLE", and your cheeks burn as you sit down next to him and hide your face in his neck like "it was just necessary". ross is like "look at me, love - yeah, it was necessary, and it was so well done. you fucking decimated her, jesus, remind me never to get on your bad side!", laughing, and you smile like "you could never". he smiles and kisses you deeply, hands coming up to hold your face and lips and tongue doing some stuff that makes your head spin, before he's like "seriously, though, i'm so proud of you, babe. that took guts. and it was for the best", and you're like "yeah, i have more time to spend with you now. dream come true", and he blushes and kisses you again. adorable! <3

[stannyramirez]

𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞

 ❝Not a side or a main, I’m the only bitch he entertains. ❞

 ❝All my battles have been won but the war has just begun. ❞

 ❝The city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me? ❞

 ❝As in heaven as on earth, we’ve been dead since our birth. ❞

 ❝Thank God I ain’t have to smack a bitch today. ❞

 ❝If I see you in the street, bitch, your ass is done. ❞

 ❝I don’t need your opinion, I do what I fuckin’ want. ❞

 ❝If he don’t eat it, he a d-bag. ❞

 ❝I’m killing myself when bitches would kill to be me. ❞

 ❝He keep calling, I ignore it. he says I’m crazy. Don’t I know it? ❞

 ❝I’d rather just do it then I’ll think about it later. ❞

 ❝I never learn my lesson, so I always do it twice. ❞

 ❝Say something once, why say it again? ❞

 ❝Cut deep and I’m still alive, I’ll talk my shit ‘til the day I die. ❞

 ❝They won’t fix it, they ain’t with ya. They won’t muzzle the mouth that just bit ya. ❞

 ❝Might show up to the party with a blunt — might get stoned, might get drunk. ❞

 ❝Walking passed the mirror like, ooh, damn, I’m fine. ❞

 ❝Haunted house, I make him scream. ❞

 ❝Bonafide hustler making my name. ❞

 ❝No one on the corner has swagger like us. ❞

 ❝We pack and deliver like UPS trucks. ❞

 ❝I got a basket full of lemons and they all taste the same. ❞

 ❝You can spend your whole life working for something just to have it taken away.❞

 ❝I don’t know why I say the things that I say, but I say them anyway. ❞

 ❝Keep on building prisons, gonna fill them all. Keep on building bombs, gonna drop them all. ❞

 ❝Chaos and commotion wherever I go. ❞

 ❝Tonight, I’m gonna let the Devil in. ❞

 ❝It’s my party, and I’ll fuck who I want. ❞

 ❝Who are you to change this world, silly boy? ❞

 ❝I’m a gangster, but I’m such a fuckin’ lady. ❞

 ❝First to watch my story but don’t like me? Weird. ❞

 ❝Never mind what I had to do to get these diamonds. ❞

 ❝These bitches wanna judge me but I don’t care. ❞

 ❝Only want a love where the card never declines. ❞

 ❝My baby is my employer. ❞

 ❝No, I don’t want your number. No, I don’t want to give you mine. ❞

 ❝Sun goes down, another dreamless night… you’re right by my side. ❞

 ❝You say go fast, I say hold on tight. ❞

 ❝Got you so obsessed, it’s sickening. ❞

 ❝You know I might break your heart, just let it slide. ❞

 ❝Could hurt you really bad, take everything. ❞

 ❝I let you try it, now you want to buy it, but you know my price is going up. ❞

 ❝So what if I’m toxic? ❞

 ❝Yes, sir, I’m’a do it again. I’m fucking him, her, probably they and them. ❞

 ❝I know you’re wondering what I’m gonna say, I do, too. ❞

 ❝My mind always wonders what will I say? I wish I knew… ❞

 ❝I love myself, I wanna see it. ❞

 ❝I’ma do just what I like on the regular. ❞

 ❝It’s really not my fault if you’re scared of a sweet little unforgettable thing. ❞

 ❝No, I’m not sorry. I’m just loving my body. ❞

 ❝You know I don’t give a motherfuck about your last name. ❞

 ❝Has someone like me ever existed? ❞

 ❝I can’t help it, I just woke up like this. ❞

 ❝Nightmare dream girl, I am what your type is. ❞

 ❝When I go into that ground, I won’t go quietly. ❞

 ❝I got troubles, they won’t let me be. ❞

 ❝I’ve been on the run since I was a boy. ❞

 ❝I’ve got troubles of more than one kind. ❞

 ❝If I had a dick, you’d probably lick it like a lollipop. ❞

 ❝Bitches say they fuckin’ with me, chances are they’re probably not. ❞

 ❝If he had a twin, I would let them run a train. ❞

 ❝I swear I feel like a toilet bowl shitting on everything I’ve said or I’ve done. ❞

 ❝Thanks for the talk, are we done? ❞

 ❝I’m over wasting time in life trying to be something I’m not. ❞

 ❝Do you ever feel like you’re underwater, drowning inside? ❞

 ❝I’m not gonna hang my head and be another accident. ❞

 ❝I’ve given up our romance. I have nothing left for love. ❞

 ❝I’m not sick, but I’m not well. ❞

 ❝Fingertips like memories, I can’t forget the curves of your body. ❞

 ❝Been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding. ❞

 ❝I don’t even have a TV. ❞

 ❝Put me in the hospital for nerves and then they had to commit me. ❞

 ❝It’s a sin to live so well. ❞

 ❝I’d like to turn off time and kill my mind. ❞

 ❝Hear the voices in my head, I swear to god it sounds like they’re snoring. ❞

 ❝If you’re bored then you’re boring. ❞

 ❝The agony and irony, they’re killing me. ❞

 ❝She says she loves me at dusk, but at dawn I pack up my things and I’m gone. ❞

 ❝Never been a perfect soul but I will not apologize. ❞

 ❝I did a lot wrong that I can’t make right. ❞

 ❝That face, baby, it ain’t fair. ❞

 ❝I eat boys like you for breakfast. ❞

 ❝I never said it’s right, but I’m gonna keep doing it. ❞

 ❝I’m sick and, honestly? I’m getting high off it. ❞

 ❝We don’t deal with outsiders very well. ❞

 ❝They can smell the intention on you. ❞

 ❝They call me an American horror show. ❞

 ❝What I gotta do to find a sub or a dom to choke me? ❞

 ❝I could be your little monster. ❞

 ❝I like when you piss me off, it usually means the sex is rough. ❞

 ❝I am the big idea. ❞

 ❝If you got a problem, better speak up. ❞

 ❝My generation’s had enough, and you should be afraid. ❞

 ❝I like my coffee black just like my metal. ❞

 ❝I can’t wait for you to shut me up. ❞

 ❝I’m friends with all my demons. ❞

 ❝I’m the definition of the worst kind of mean. ❞

 ❝I will not die in the night but in the light of the sun with the ashes of this world in my lungs. ❞

[issybettyx]

Hero Tommy, Villains SBI AU

Tldr; i was on tiktok earlier and heard a sound and suddenly this au was born (i’m skipping revision for my exams that start tomorrow to write this) (dream is also in this au purely because i needed a manipulative character, and c!dream is basically just that)

—

“Here to lose again, Theseus?” Siren taunts, jumping over the flash of light the hero shot in his direction. Theseus laughs, grinning as he continues to fire, letting his eyes glow red as he does so. “You’ll never defeat us no matter how hard you try.”

“You’re all bitches,” Tommy spits, and he grins wider when Siren barks out an unamused laugh, letting his energy guide him as Siren phases through the floor, appearing behind him a moment later. “What’s the point of The SBI anyways?”

Curiosity was evil, and Tommy was starving from a lack of information. His whole life, all he’d ever wanted was answers. Maybe asking Siren the point of his existence wouldn’t tell him who his parents were or why he was forced into the Hero Guild at the meek age of 7, but knowledge helped him in the field.

“The Guild knows our reasons, why don’t you?” Siren laughed back, attempting to send a phantom punch through Theseus’ skull, the kid dodging just in time. Dream had told him it was good he was young, it made him quick and flexible, made it easier to dodge and harder to catch. Despite his clear confusion, and yet apathy towards the entire situation, Siren continues. “We had something taken from us, and the Hero Guild have been hiding it for years despite how much they insist they don’t have it.”

“We’re civil, we wouldn’t steal, we’re not fuckin’ robbers or anything.” Tommy spits back, somehow managing to land a kick on Siren’s chest, sending a bright red stream of energy onto the exact place he’d managed to hit and watching as the man fell to the ground, clutching at his chest with a hiss. “We just stop the annoying shits who wreak havoc on our country.”

“You tell your Dream buddy that we demand what’s ours back,” Siren tells him, and Theseus feels something cold press hard at his back, shivers taking over all of his limbs until he’s struggling to stand. He continued to stay stood, despite how much his body begs to fall.

Dream wouldn’t like it if he fell.

He couldn’t disappoint Dream.

“And what if they don’t?” He yells back, making sure his voice echoed on the cold walls of the alleyway they were currently in. It wasn’t the best place for a fight, but it was better than having cameras catch his every move. Whenever that happened, him and Dream would spend the entirety of the next day pointing out and correcting the flaws of his technique. “What if they can’t give it back?”

“I’m sure, if they’re lives are on the line, they will be more than willing to give it back.”

Siren disappeared through the floor before he could say anything else, leaving Theseus alone once more.

—

“Dream,” Tommy starts, taking a deep breath as the man hums, scrolling on his phone, “I want to find my family.”

The man pauses, fingers going still on his screen as he stares directly ahead, and Tommy already regrets saying anything.

“We’ve tried, Tommy, you know this.”

“You tried when I was seven.” Tommy insisted despite the fear thrumming through his veins, biting his lip when bright green eyes stare back at him, a dull frown sitting on his face. “We didn’t even do a DNA test, that could find them so quickly, I’m sure-“

“Go to training kiddo.” Dream told him, and he wanted to protest, wanted to yell and tell him he was actually stupid to think they’d done all they could; but it was Dream he was talking to, he couldn’t just go against him, so he obliged, picking up his suit and leaving the room.

Before he opened the door, he made sure to pick up his backpack, throwing his suit into it before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Tommy arrived at the centre soon enough. It was a place he’d found on a solo patrol one night, a centre where you could test your DNA and find your family history and things similar to it. Maybe he’d gone a few months ago and gave them a swab of his DNA. Maybe he was only looking for permission so he could show someone he’d found his family, but it seems he would have to keep this to himself as well.

“Tommy Innit?” The desk lady called, and he immediately stood up, taking the brown folder from her with a quiet thanks before immediately leaving, breaking open the flap that sealed it shut.

After taking a deep breath, a short session of rethinking his life choices and swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy lifted the white papers out, looking over the front.

‘Tommy Innit.

DOB: April 9th 2004’

This was it.

He lifted the front paper out, slipping it behind the others before he looked over it.

‘Heritage: 75% L’Manberg, 20% Essempee’

He took out the next paper.

And the next.

Before finally, the words ‘Family Tree’ met his gaze, and he had never read something faster, the widest smile on his face.

—

Tommy knocked on the door - after a good few minutes of wanting to turn back from the nerves fluttering in his stomach - immediately taking a step away from it.

“Techno get the door!” A voice shouted from the inside, and Tommy knew he had the right place.

The form had said his closest family were as follows; Phil Craft, his father, aged 36. His mother, Kristin Craft, whose age wasn’t specified? It was strange but he brushed past it. And, apparently, he had two brothers, and they were twins.

Technoblade Craft and Wilbur Craft.

“I’m doing homework! Make Wil get it!”

“Wil’s not in- you know what.”

Footsteps followed, and Tommy took a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he tapped his fingers on his leg, trying to steady his breathing as scraping metal from a door lock filled his ears. The door was opened, and a blonde man stood on the other side, blue eyes blinking at Tommy who could only just manage to look back at him.

“Can I help you?” He asked slowly, squinting his eyes at Tommy who took another deep breath, muttering random things under his breath as Phil continued to stare. “Did the government send you? Oh god-“

“No- I- no, I- oh god how do I put this?” Tommy tried, despite having recited this conversation in his head thousands of times he still found himself lost for words. No one had told him meeting his father for the first time would be so… scary. Then again, no one really knew he was there. “I’m an orphan.”

This only seemed to confuse the other more.

“Right?”

“And I- I never knew who my family were, so I kinda snuck off to this centre in town?” Tommy tried, messing with his hands as he refused to look at the other. After a moment, he put his shaking hands into his bag and pulled out the page of his family tree, holding it out to the man who took it with slight hesitance.

Tommy didn’t watch him as his eyes went wide, mouth slightly open as he stared at it, disbelief taking over.

“Um, apparently your my dad? And I wanted to meet you my entire life, and I wasn’t sure-“

Arms wrapped around him, cutting his sentence off to look at Phil, the man’s arms holding him so tight Tommy wondered if he would ever let go. His head was pushed into Tommy’s shoulder, and he could feel his sleeve getting wet.

Was he crying?

“Oh Tommy.” Phil said shakily, and Tommy sighed, returning the hug as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I thought I’d never see you again- I- oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Some part of him said to forgive him. But he didn’t exactly know what had happened in the first place, so he only held him tighter, holding down his own cries as he heard Phil, feeling as he shook in his hold.

“Dad who is it?” A deep voice called, likely Techno because apparently Wilbur wasn’t there, as footsteps grew louder, Phil sniffing before moving back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Only then did Tommy see the other man, pink hair tied back into a messy bun, a mug in his hand with glasses over his eyes. His clothes were a little questionable, a fancy frilled shirt tucked into black trousers. The man looked at Phil, a raised eyebrow with a silent question Tommy wasn’t sure of, but Phil nodded and a hand was thrown over his mouth before he placed the mug down. “Tommy?”

“I- yeah?” Tommy returned, and Techno was walking over before he could do anything, the man pulling his head onto his chest and keeping a steady on the back of his head, and Tommy leaned into it, letting out a breath as he tried to ignore the shivering of the other. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, kid.” Techno told him, letting go to crouch in front of him, holding his hand with a small smile. It didn’t look right on the man’s face, but Tommy returned it anyways, wiping whatever tears were forming in his eyes, “None of this was your fault.”

“I’ve messaged Wil, he’s on his way back.” Phil said, albeit a bit rushed, before turning to Tommy, a fond smile on his face. “You can eat dinner with us? If you’d like?”

Did he? Yes, he wanted to, a million times yes. But Dream would murder him if he was home late. Not to even mention the fact the man didn’t seem to keen on the idea of him finding his family, for whatever reason.

“I would love to.” Tommy replied nonetheless, letting them usher him into the house. It was a lovely space, in Tommy’s opinion. The wallpaper was a sage green, and wooden shelves lined one wall. A mirror was in the hallway, a cabinet beneath it with a vase on it, no flowers to make it prettier. They led him to the kitchen, and Techno flicked on the kettle again, offering Tommy a drink to which he declined.

“So, Tommy,” Phil started, and Tommy looked at him, taking in his warm smile and the way tension had left his shoulders since he’d arrived, “Tell us about yourself.”

Well he’d been a hero since he was seven, and that was basically his entire life.

“I like cows.” Is what he said, because it was true, he did, “And the colour red. It’s epic.”

“It is epic,” Techno replied to that, pouring Phil a mug of coffee and passing it to him, “Red is the coolest colour. Well, apart from pink.”

“Pink is a very based favourite colour.” Tommy returned, and Techno seemed to straightening up a little at that as that same smile returned from before.

“How’ve you been doing?” Phil asked, a little more cautious than the first time. “Have you been living with someone or?”

“Well,” Tommy started, wondering how in hells name to go about this. He had a feeling if he said he didn’t want to say, he would he allowed to keep it to himself. But this was his dad, asking about where he’d been basically his entire life, so maybe he could just… not name names. “My guardian found me when I was a baby, and he gave me a roof over my head for basically my entire life. He can be a bit…” what was the word? “Strange,” Good enough, “Sometimes, but he basically raised me, so I made do.”

“Who is he?” Techno asked, Phil hitting his arm lightly as he shrugged, “I think I deserve to know who my little brother has been staying with all this time.” There was a look in Phil’s eyes that was a kind of warning, and if Tommy didn’t know better he would say it said they knew something he didn’t.

“I have a question, actually.” Tommy said after a moment of quiet conversation between the other two, bringing the attention back to him. Attention was always something he’d hated, it was always the media shoving cameras into his masked face, following his movements and guessing his next move. He sunk a little under the watchful eyes, biting his lip as he brought his knees to his chest. “Where have you been?”

His real question was clear. Why was I orphaned? Did you choose to? Why did I have to be raised by a young hero and roped into a job so early that I’ve always hated?

“We-“ Phil started, but Techno cut him off.

“You were taken in your sleep.” Techno said bluntly, sipping on his coffee as if admitting Tommy had been kidnapped was the calmest topic of conversation. “We’ve been trying to track you down since, but they were very good at covering their tracks.”

“We knew the only way for you to get back was for you to do it on your own accord,” Phil admitted, picking at his nails as Tommy looked at the floor, frowning as he tried to process it all. “But we tried to get you back nonetheless, they were just… very good at hiding you.”

The door opened after Phil finished speaking, and Tommy turned as fast footsteps filled the house, and soon enough a brown haired man was stood in the doorway, circular glasses over his brown eyes. His style was a lot more simplistic than Techno’s; a simple white shirt with a yellow jumper over the top, black trousers leading down the black boots, and a brown trench coat was over his shoulders, clearly forgotten to be taken off in his rush.

His eyes were wide as he stared at him, eyes scanning him as if he was worried the boy would disappear and he had to remember every small detail. It was a strange thing, and yet Tommy wasn’t too against that kind of attention, waiting for someone to say something.

“Am I dreaming? This is a dream right?” Wilbur asked, taking a careful step closer as Tommy shook his head, watching the man look down at his hands, muttering numbers under his breath before sucking in a quick breath, staring at Tommy before bounding towards him, tugging him into a warm hug.

It wasn’t as tight as Phil’s, whose hug gave him a strange sense of security. It wasn’t as… whatever Techno’s was, that let him know he was there and everything was okay.

It was warm, and it felt safe, and he knew he could pull away if he tried. It was what finally made him cry, clinging back as he sobbed, hoping the man didn’t care if his jumper got too wet, feeling the man hold him tighter as he rested his chin on his head.

“You’re safe now, Tommy.” He whispered, sincerity soaking his words as Tommy only cried harder, knowing his brother would keep him safe. “We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

“But I have to go.” Tommy cried back, shaking his head as Wilbur hushed him, stroking his hands through his hair. With all the emotion in him, Tommy couldn’t find it in him to lie to his family any longer. In Wilbur’s arms, he knew he never wanted to leave, so they needed the truth if they could even try to do anything to fix things. “Dream will be mad if I don’t go back to the tower, he- he’ll-“

“It’s alright, take a deep breath, take your time.” Wilbur muttered back, feeling the kid’s chest rise and fall as he cried.

“Dream has given me everything, and if I leave- he didn’t want me to leave.”

Tommy didn’t see as Phil gripped his coffee tighter, something dangerous flickering in his eyes as he listened to Tommy say the hero’s name. Tommy didn’t see Techno bite his lip, a million thoughts running through his head as he already began planning the man’s demise.

Wilbur only held him tighter.

“He gave me everything, he made me who I am, he- I need to leave.”

“You don’t need to leave, Toms, your safe here.” Wilbur assured, and Tommy shook his head again.

“Can I ask you a question Tommy?” Techno asked carefully, the blonde sniffing as he turned, Wilbur letting go for a moment so he could look at Techno, before slinging his arms over Tommy’s shoulders, resting his chin on Tommy’s head once more. “What did Dream do for you? Who did he make you?”

Could he say that?

Probably, it’s not like they would or could do anything if they knew he was a hero.

“Theseus.” He sniffed back, wiping his eyes as Wilbur froze. Tommy immediately regretted it, everything he’d said coming back to him as he struggled for words, seeing Techno’s wide eyes and Phil’s hand gripping tighter on his mug. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-“

“Dream made a child a hero?” Techno scowled, and Tommy immediately got defensive.

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re 14.”

“And? I’m not a kid, I can hold my own.” Tommy insisted, standing straighter and forcing Wilbur’s head up.

Phil’s frown physically hurt him, and he found himself looking at the floor to avoid his firey gaze.

“You shouldn’t have to, though.” Phil said quietly, and Tommy had to squeeze his eyes shut as he took a deep breath.

“And you don’t have to, not anymore.” Wilbur added, squeezing Tommy’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Techno laughed back, but Tommy could hear the malice in it, “If Dream even gets within one mile of you he won’t see the light of day again.”

“That sounds quite evil of you Technoblade,” Tommy told him, finding himself smiling as the man grinned back, “It’s kind of awesome.”

“What can I say? I am awesome.”

Tommy laughed, leaning into Wilbur as the man held him closer, Techno sipping his coffee again as Phil typed something into his phone - Tommy had a feeling he wasn’t casually messaging a colleague, but he didn’t voice those thoughts.

He didn’t voice the thoughts because he was finally safe; he wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he knew he could relax even if it wouldn’t be for long.

With his family, in a home that felt right, without bright green eyes constantly staring holes into his head, he felt safe.

[pickledpascal]

Killer Queen

Chapter Six: all-american bitch

Warnings: gore, violence, ben being ben (old), swearing, 18+ themes.

Word Count: 1.8k

Killer Queen Masterlist

Previous Chapter |

Walking the halls of Vought felt like a fucking fever dream for Ben. The tower still had the same amount of floors, but it had changed radically. Cleaner floors, screens, and lights were everywhere that it almost made his head hurt. Almost. 

His boots were heavy against the clean, marble floors. He put on a fake smile as he walked past a few employees, well, a lot of employees. If Ben was in his “civilian” clothes, they probably wouldn't have batted an eye, however, he wasn't. He wore his Supe suit—minus the helmet, he always thought the redesign of it looked a little stupid.

Ben simply waltzed right into Stan Edgar's office. He timed his entrance just right, no one else was in the room. That was by design.

“Ah, Soldier Boy.” Edgar sat at his desk, a surprised yet, at the same time, unsurprised look in his eyes. “Or should I say Ben?”

Ben's jaw ticked as he stared at Edgar. Just being in that man's presence was annoying, just like it was back in ‘84. Fuckin’ corporate douchebags. Now, Edgar was Vought, back then he was more of a handler or whatever the fuck. 

“I'm here to… get some of what I deserve.” He said truthfully, eyes narrowed and cold as he stared at Edgar. 

Every single last person involved with Ben's disappearance was dead. Either killed by him or dead due to old age. Everyone except for Mr. Vought himself. 

Edgar chuckled softly. “I'm sure you are.” He glanced off to the side of his desk.

“You think you gonna pop my head open? Fat chance.” Ben chuckled softly. A flash of fear finally showed in Edgar's eyes. It felt good to see that. “Don't worry, she's being taken care of real nice.” He winked, a sinister smile on his face. 

Being with Amber had been a rollercoaster. He nearly envied her abilities. Her resilience. Her need to help him. And she did help him.

 Except, he was the only Supe that could take away a Supe’s powers with a single blast. Rendering him nearly invincible, which went to his head a little. He was a clear threat to Vought and everything it was about. It wasn't about promoting the safety and happiness and prosperity of others, it was about dominating ideals. The company made money simply off of the public thinking it needed Supes.

Ben had known that forever. He was the first Supe after all. 

“Your girlfriend will not survive if you so much as touch a hair on her head.” Edgar stood abruptly. 

Ben cocked an eyebrow at Edgar, impressed that the man thought anyone had a chance against Amber. “What makes you think you could touch her?” He took a step forward, setting his palms on Edgar's desk. “Better yet, what makes you think you'll be stepping outside this room alive to see your daughter again? Hm? After the shit you've done to me? Fuck no.”

In a building nearby, Eden, Amber, and most of the Boys were camped out and listening in on Ben and Edgar’s conversation. After Ben finished his words, Amber cut the sound. 

Butched glanced at her, confused. “What in the Sam-Hell?” 

“Do you want to hear a man getting his guts torn from his body?” Amber countered with a cock of her eyebrow. Hughie cringed at the thought and shook his head. Butcher just shrugged. “That's what I thought.”

Eden sat back in her swivel chair and hummed a little. “I mean, he's definitely getting what he deserves.”

“But what's the plan after this? Killing the CEO won't change much. You didn't really fill us in.” Annie looked at Butcher and Amber. Out of everyone in the Boys, she was the most morally good one, meaning killing someone—as bad as they might be—wasn’t something that pleased her in the slightest.

Eden glanced at Amber, who answered, “Eden will hack everything off of Vought’s servers and hand it over to the proper authorities—namely Grace Mallory.”

“Hey! Douchebags! How the hell am I supposed to use this thing?” Ben's voice filtered back into the room. He glanced over at the decimated heap that was once Stan Edgar. He didn't seem so scary after pounded into a bag of flesh and blood. 

He shook his head, that didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was finding the right hole for this… what did Eden call it? Hacking stick? Amber called it something else… USB stick! That's what it was. 

“Look at the edge of the computer screen for a rectangular hole and put it in.” Eden explained.

Amber let out a small laugh, “That sounded horrible.” 

Ben gripped the monitor, jerking it to the side to see the different ports. He jammed the USB into one of them and pursed his lips. Something was definitely happening. “What now?”

“You see that loading bar?” Eden asked. He made a noise of recognition at the blue bar that was slowly filling. “Wait until it's 100% complete, it should only take a few minutes.”

Ben hummed a little as he watched it. Then he realized he had a fuck ton of blood on his hands, some even on his face as he could partly see his reflection in the monitor. He wiped at his face, smearing a little of the blood. Thankfully, he caught a few napkins at the side of the desk and wiped his face and hands quickly. 

Once the bar was full, it completely disappeared. He was still incredibly confused as to how modern technology worked but, if Amber trusted Eden, he would too. “Everything good?” He asked as he grabbed the USB back from its port. 

“More than good, mate.” Butcher answered this time, a smug air to his voice. 

“Now, get the fuck outta there.” Amber ordered before her voice softened, “Please?”

Ben pocketed the USB and left the office, not minding how an assistant or something would probably find Edgar's body. A lot of people who worked at Vought were bad people, maybe they weren't when they first joined, but they would eventually become similar to Edgar. Horrible for the sake of glory and profit. Ben knew he was like that once too. 

Once. 

He could still feel his sins crawling on his back but, god, he was trying. Trying to be good. For Amber. For himself, too. 

———

Weeks have passed since Vought's downfall and subsequently, many more laws have been passed to monitor Supes. They were on their own now, no company trying to cover up any wrongdoing or casualties. It felt… better. And scarier for a lot of Supes who decided to fuck around for so long. Now, they were going to find out what happened when they were so careless. Consequences. Like they deserved. 

Seeing as the Soldier Boy was part of Vought's downfall garnered a lot of attention. A lot of people wanting to know more, asking questions.

Once things started to settle down, that's when Mallory advised to answer questions. But she also wanted Amber to be there too… just to wrangle him in case he said too much. Amber wasn't exactly sure why, Ben had media training all the way back in the fifties, maybe even earlier than that. 

“So, Soldier Boy!” A reporter called out to him. “You represent good-ole American Family values, what do you think of America nowadays?” 

Ben cocked an eyebrow at the question and plastered a smile on his face. “Well, it's certainly different. I mean, I didn't know what GPS was until a few months ago. Or who Cardi B was.” He forced a chuckle. 

“But what do you think about the state of America? The gay trend?” The reporter pried further. 

Ben took a few moments to keep from answering, looking at the reporter with a blank stare. Years ago, he probably would've said some ignorant shit but not today. Especially since he could hear the ringing of a bell in his head. “Well, I think gay people, whether it's a trend or not, should be treated fairly under the law as all people should. Y'know, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and all that shit.” 

“Is that what you really think?” The other man kept trying to get some sort of reaction out of Ben.

So he let him get what he wanted. The bell rang louder. Ben grabbed the voice recorder and spoke into it directly. “My girlfriend has a dick and I like it in my mouth, so yes I believe queer people should be allowed all the fuckin’ freedoms non-queer people do.” His smile was poisonous as he looked at the reporter. He pushed the recorder back into his hands and walked away. 

Half the time, Ben wondered why he even bothered with all this. The media and all the shit it came with, but he did sign up for those Vought trials. And it worked. Worked so well he was practically invincible.

“Do you really like my dick in your mouth?” Amber's arms were crossed, he was leaning against the wall as Ben walked to the back of the building. 

Ben glanced to the side before he pulled Amber close and kissed her deeply. She immediately wrapped her arms around his waist while he buried a hand in her hair, messing it up in his favorite ways. Amber always found a way to take over him, even if it was an action he started. He was slammed against the wall as Amber deepened the kiss more, his breath knocked out of his lungs for a moment. 

He pushed Amber away slightly. He knew what he looked like. Pathetic. With flushed cheeks, pleading eyes, and red lips. “Does that answer your question?” He breathed. 

Amber let out an amused noise and raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure.” She paused, then took a breath, “I'm proud of you for not completely losing your cool there.” She whispered. 

“Yeah, well, that motherfucker deserved worse.” Ben grumbled. 

Amber shrugged and nodded with a light laugh. “Yeah, probably. But it wouldn't look good for you.” She pointed out softly. “Even if it would be satisfying.”

It was weird to think about just how much Ben had changed because of Amber. Emotionally, he was more open, though he was still working on that with people who weren't Amber. He didn't resort to violence as much, although there were some exceptions. Like Edgar. Not to mention, his ideals have changed. He didn't focus so much on himself anymore but started to care about others and the things that meant the world to them too. 

“C'mon, Eden is making spaghetti and meatballs to celebrate.” Amber gave Ben a light smile, lowering a hand to hold his. 

Ben simply nodded and followed her to the car. 

———

taglist: @aleemendoza2425-blog @yoyoanaria

[yourladyindank]

Conservatives piss me off talm bout “perserve my ancestors dream and way of life”. Bitch go join the Amish. You wanna stagnate? Bye.

Your granddaddy dreamed of silver cities and flying cares and free healthcare and free food/water. Your ancestors dreamt of a world where basic necessities were taken care of and you got a career to earn luxuries and follow your dreams. They dreamed of wanted jobs, not needed ones.

How tf you think artisans n shit ever became a thing, by people being stingy and forcing everybody to “do their fair share”? Bitch they didn’t HAVE to, they had enough! They had plenty! You’re not even good at this anyway and you don’t even like it go play with some fuckin dirt or whatever. Oh we have pots now? Neat.

Even people who added no function at all existed, they just made pleasant noise, or decorated shit, or told stories, or watched the stars. You think you could keep a fuckin house star gazing now and talking about your feelings as they scooted about? Fuck no generally.

Also the weird amount of obligation of being good and popular enough at it? You think they refused to let grog the cave painter eat because no one wanted a painting that week? Thats crazy. You’re crazy. Grog was fed and nobody tried to kick him out of his cave.

Think about the food waste. Think about the empty houses. “But it costs money to move around and they didn’t EARN it” OMG WHO FUCKING CARRRRRES

It’s not about earning! It’s about giving people basic human dignity so our cities don’t smell like piss and aren’t covered in exposed needles my love! It’s so disease rates fall. It’s so people don’t freeze/overheat. It’s to reduce medical and sanitation costs. It’s to reduce CPS cases. Like if you don’t have empathy, fucking weird, but whatever, keep it practical. It’s cheaper to house and feed them than it is to deal with the resulting crime.

Your ancestors dreamt of ease and prosperity, not profits and “the grind” you absolute freaks. Watch Star Trek like once. Gaze upon their “futuristic media”. There is nothing wrong with wanting to have a good time and work as little as functionally possible. We are mammals. We invent stuff to work less. When did we lose the plot?

Embrace automation and UBI. Reject classes and unnecessary suffering. Reject profit driven necessities. Reject “government isn’t there to take care of you” tf is it for then? To irritate me???

[thelightningbottler]

EP1 -  Addiction = Transcript

Italian Blend No. 4

It’s not the first pot, but the second 

that coils you up into upright positions 

that turns the key in your conscious prison. You’re here now,

in the instant. No drifting for you. No dreaming,

instead moments where you simply… stop existing.

Like the plug was pulled, for a few seconds and you comeback

systems stuttering reeling from

being turned off and on again hands constricting

muscles contracting eyes wide open

with synapses firing.

So here you are 

Present

Awake

under duress. Sleepless

and dreamless

Because if you submit yourself to such My, you must

have some damn good reasons.

To subject yourself to such a lesion. Why the insistent forgoing of rest? Rest. dearheart. 

“Do you smoke?”

“Well do you?”

Do I smoke?

Do I smoke?

Yes bitch

I fuckin’ smoke.

Smoke what?

Where do I begin?

There’s been marlins and Harlems and Cowboys.

There’s been Henson and Bedges and Mayfairs.

There’s been astral cheese,

Purple haze,

And so much Stardawg that I still taste diesel. 

In my lungs and on my lobes.

What else you got? I’ll smoke it all.

Heroin? Not until I’m 60

Crack? Not until I’m 65. 

Cocaine? At some point, when I’m richer.

I’m down for the best tastes in the world. 

But I’d rather be on the brink of life.

What else?

I’ll smoke that peace pipe.

I’ll inhale the gun smoke

On a smoking gun.

In the detective’s hand

While he’s trying 

To investigate it.

I smoked with Minnie,

Poor Min, 

And her bloke named Smokey.

As it pours down with rain 

(Huddle Up)

We look to the sky!

(Cuddle up)

Round a fire pit

Where we launch off fireworks.

Watch as the smoke drifted west through the skies.

Poor min, 

I still see her now and then

Picking up fag ends in Dunstable High Street.

That’s a long ass street to be picking up on.

There’s two sets of lights two miles apart and

You best hope you chose the right one.

His hokey ass joints 

Taste of fumes and smog,

Taste of kippers and paprika

Prevented only by me

Says smokey to me

His form turned into

A giant bear.

It’s a trick

An illusion.

Do I inhale the smoke from the stack?

Do I encounter the mirror that made the trick work?

As flames as far as Hemel Hempstead go up

In my business all I’m remembers the smoke

“You smoke?”

Yes I smoke, 

For the burn,

That primal energy

That steals the oxygen from my lungs

Gives me heat and tar

And the slightest

Ever so slight

Satisfaction.

'Cigarette Packets'

She was never any good for me in fact she was toxic with her Laughing and her coughing reminding me with each kiss that only she could make me happy slowly poisoning me I left some packets empty Stewm around the flat like discarded garments to gather in a box to give back and every time i pick one up i remember her smell Her taste and think "Damn, she was a good kisser. "

Darts instead of Change

Toasty Tobacco And tasty tar

Slug through my lungs at glacial speeds.

But now, dear friend We have to part

On advice of doctors friends and family.

No more, while waiting for a bus will a roll and a spark

summon metal beasts to their stop.

No longer when passing homeless men, can I offer darts instead of change,

Warming the cheeks on winters days.

You were a friend through thick and thin 

A shared revolver withmy peers

Kept the bullet chamber spinning

kept me moving for years and years—

  Rather than fester 

  Bedridden Sleeping 

  through

  My loves and fears…

And now you’re gone So, what is left?

What has taken your sacred place?

An Extra Thirty Quid a week and a stupid flavoured vape.

[tomheath]

People who reblog an opinion from you but do not allow you to reblog with your replica or insert a comment.

So okay. Someone reblogged my defense of the writers and argued that Daemon's scenes with his daughters were cut from the show and that was a disfavor to the character. Ok, but haven't a lot of scenes been cut? I mean. We didn't have a fuckin' kiss between Rhaenyra and Harwin and you guys only focused on the very debatable parenting skills from a character who killed his first wife and gave almost no shit to his second wife's passing? And who the fuck said anywhere in the book that Daemon was a great dad? There's very little info on that regard. The writers had the option of making him a more lovable dad and decided not to. How would that redeem him from killing his wife and grooming his niece is beyond my comprehension. I love him. I just don't see him as a nice person.

Also, I used to find it difficult to distinguish between Rhaena and Baela. They were almost mute as adults, so really hard to attribute any personality features to each of them. I assume there was little time to provide these characters with depth. It's not something meant to diminish the girls or a discrimination against their color. Again! We had no scenes between Rhaenyra and Harwin! A relationship that was central to the plot. There wasn't enough time and choices had to be made.

We don't know wtf will happen in season 2. Season one was clearly experimental due to the bad reception to GoT's ending. I believe they'll have the resources to expand the plot from now on. As Rhaenyra was established in the first half of the season as the protagonist, it's only natural that the second part would give more space for her siblings. This is how you establish good drama, not by pointing heroes and villains.

Stop bitching and, most importantly, stop using the book to justify your sweet summer children's dreams. Fire and Blood is highly questionable and intimate info about the factions should not be taken as the final truth.

[angxlslasher]

Headcanons for Samara James

CW: Mentions of PTSD, sleep terrors, and killing

🔪She has sleep terrors! She has battled this since leaving home, often dreaming of past abuse and the first kill she had— While the first murder was freeing, the events that led up to it were traumatic. That fight for life or death, not knowing if she could push herself to do it, and his face… That sickening grin, the way his clammy hands choked her, and the knife slide into his throat… PTSD can be a bitch.

🔪She is a singer, but not classically trained. While she can sing softer melodies, she much prefers a more heavy rock approach with vocal fry and screaming since, well, she’s filled with anger :D She’s just an angry lil thing and finds singing to be a good way to let out some frustration. If I had to say what her voice sounds like, I imagine it’s similar to this.

🔪As mentioned in her introduction post, she is a sucker for karaoke of any kind. When she was little, she would sing along to her favorite Disney movies, so singing karaoke reminds her of those times.

🔪While she does travel often to see new sights and kill creeps along the way, deep down, she wants to find a ‘home’. She doesn’t need a grand house or lots of money, she just wants security and peace. But as the old saying goes… There’s no rest for the wicked. She’s stuck in an endless loop of ‘if I don’t do this, then who will?’ and feels deeply responsible for getting rid of the creeps that prey on the innocent.

🔪Affection? What’s that?? She’s a touch starved, clueless baby when it comes to any kind touch, action, or any term of endearment. She is one of those people that, when touched gently, she will still flinch and lean away. Not only because of past experiences, but because she has gone nearly her whole life without gentleness and her brain has convinced her that any touch = bad.

🔪With that being said, Samara is… not the best when it comes to comforting others. She’s a bit awkward with emotions and anything to do with them, so if a friend is crying or upset, she will probably just pat their back a few times while muttering “There, there…” She would be the type to suggest trying murder to cope since it works for her, but she understands not everyone wants to go to such extremes.

🔪She still loves to read, but doesn’t have much time to pick up a book now due to her constantly being on the move. On the occasion that she’s staying at a motel or a tent she carries with her, she’ll pull out a comfort book she carries around. She feels like, if her life had taken a different turn, she would’ve liked to be a writer.

🔪She sends postcards from different places she’s been with short scribbled messages like ‘this place is hot as hell’ or even a simple ‘this place fuckin’ sucks’. There will be rare instances, though, where she may something nicer along the lines of ‘thought you’d like this’ or ‘this made me think of you’.

🔪She is dead to the world in the morning unless she’s had some sort of caffeine, preferably coffee. She doesn’t care if it’s sweet, with or without cream, or anything— she just wants a cup of coffee and would literally kill for it.

🔪However, she’s not much of a breakfast person. Give her some coffee and toast and she’s set until lunch.

A/N:This is just some stuff off the top of my head, so it’s all for now! I hope y’all enjoy!

Taglist: @cries-in-latino, @rottent33th, @the-pinstriped-hood, @allthingsblood

Just let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Divider by: firefly-graphics

[replacementbassistfromgorillaz]

Hello Ace, this is your personally assigned supervising agent courtesy of Cartoon Network speaking. Due to the recent nature of your relocation, we have been unable to check in on you regularly. Now that you are more stationary, we will resume business as usual. In any case, please be reminded of the rules set in accordance to behavior under the discretion clause in article 6a subsection 5 of your contract with us. As it states, any and all lyrical contribution made by yourself to content included in/directly referring to the Gorillaz studio album “the Now Now” must be pre-approved by a Cartoon Network agency representative. Per this arrangement, regarding the track “Hollywood” on the aforementioned album, please direct us to which if any of the following song lyrics you were involved in composing to the extent that retroactive co-authorship may be claimed and proper disciplinary action may be taken:

“Hollywood (Hollywood)

She's so seductive

She's got me looking for that dream

bow down

She knows how to do it

Exactly the way I like it”

“I got a deal to make

And a couple bad bitches

I've been achin'[sic] to break”

“I do that, did that, blow your fuckin’[sic] wig back Forreal-a[sic], gorilla, who loves goin'[sic] bareback”

Thank you for your cooperation.

aw these guys again

HEY, I- I didn't have any part in any of the lyrics ok? I'm just a bass guy I couldn't even understand half of what those guys were saying I always had earplugs in cuz of 2-D's singing, sounded like a strangled swan, anyway no need to take any action I've never written anything in my life I ain't even writing right now I'm typing- look they put it up to me it's not my fault just give me another chance?

[jobey-wan-kenobi]

I posted 5,224 times in 2022

That's 3,808 more posts than 2021!

75 posts created (1%)

5,149 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@youcandalekmyballs

@moonlightsdreaming

@jobey-wan-kenobi

@quasi-normalcy

@academicgangster

I tagged 3,759 of my posts in 2022

Only 28% of my posts had no tags

#q - 743 posts

#tweets - 185 posts

#revolutionary girl utena - 173 posts

#art - 142 posts

#the good place - 132 posts

#tropes are fun - 132 posts

#pokemon - 124 posts

#dracula daily - 114 posts

#nd - 109 posts

#tumblr moment - 95 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#(turned out this card was completely useless in gameplay tho... took me way too long—and several ass-kickings—to accept this patent fact)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

To continue the Larry=Dennis parallels, of course at some point there were calls for them to just replace the latest bozo pol with Dennis.

Now, this isn't quite as much of a joke as it is in real life, because, you know. The engines can talk and stuff. Isabella once ran for office, Trevor has served as an alderman, etc.

Sudrians have also, of course, been seriously talking about drafting railway vehicles into their government for years. For one thing, they have great name recognition. For another thing, Skarloey, Rheneas, Duke, Edward, and Toby have all been discussed, at various points, as perfectly reasonable candidates for mayors, MPs, etc.

Now, usually this gets no further than (at most) the Thin or Fat Controller feeling the need to make a statement reminding everyone that their respective railways could not possibly spare the potential candidates in question.

Dennis, though. After a memetic press conference photobombed and then taken over by the laziest diesel ever built, the island starts clowning about just replacing Exiting Disgraced Politician with Dennis.

And FC3 is all like, "Yes, we fully support Dennis if he chooses to pursue a career in government service. 🙃 Please. Do it. He'd be great."

27 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

#4

"This engine is a Metropolitan-Vickers diesel-electric type two!"

'... lol I'm being so Normal™ right now.'

40 notes - Posted August 10, 2022

#3

The Engines as Mentors

Okay but I'm eternally salty that TVS in particular—though it was RIGHT to expand the NWR fleet—failed to use the dynamic of the OG characters from the books all functioning as Mentors and Elder Statesmen to the newer and more obscure and younger engines.

It would have been THE way to effectively integrate the newbies (looking especially hard at you, HIT era). Like, some of the best use of the new characters already are when they fall into a mentee dynamic with one of the established characters. But the TVS writers really only ever let this happen with, like, Thomas? To a degree? And Edward? A bit? And then the best and most beloved BWBA episodes (BWBA!) are when Gordon and, again, Edward get more of this sort of material. And then again, in fuckin' AEG, the most popular thing so far seems to be Gordon's whole Grumpy Dad shtick.

But I think canon and fan writers should have done this with all the classic characters. After decades as The Famous Eight—erm, Ten—(but not Eleven—to me Oliver is in that category of newbie that needs looking after. which is what the rest of the Little Western spends most of his one book doing!) they are all  kinda old af and well-qualified and honestly just should be mentoring the diesels and younger steam engines and whatever wide-eyed newcomers are brought to the Island Where Fever Dreams Come True and Culture Shock Is Probably One Hell of a Bitch.

LIKE. Percy. Yes, absolutely Percy! He's inconsistent about standing up for himself or making good decisions in his own working life but honestly his instincts when it comes to others have always been completely on-point. And he never has any hesitation about acting on his instincts so there is a recipe here for big-brother success. He must be so wonderful with uncertain new engines. I think he would have been much better for taking Molly under his wing than Thomas, and he must be a god among many of the newer tank engines. Like the dynamic I tried to paint in my headcanon post about Harvey—Percy gives whiplash as your mentor because he will always support you 100% but sometimes he will suddenly make the most baffling decisions and if you are not, yourself, a natural chaos gremlin, you are just along for the ride and possibly dying of secondhand embarrassment. But again, you also get over it because no one will ever show up for you more consistently than Percy the Caterpillar Engine.

The BWBA era thing where Gordon winds up mentoring Rebecca is... like, fine, I guess. I don't have any complaints about it, but—as I tried to show in my ficlet with him and Derek—I think Gordon's most typical mentorships have two unmistakable characteristics:

it is insanely arbitrary as to whether or not he decides to take you on. if you wind up in his circle of trust you probably weren't trying or even remotely expecting. it is also hard for anyone else to understand why Gordon looked at a new engine and said to himself "Yes. That one." Because the way Gordon makes emotional decisions is utterly impenetrable—this is RWS canon. Why did Gordon one day go from being Pure Unadulterated Jackass Whose Only Thought So Far In His Life Has Been "Me! Me! Meeeee!" to the engine who (evidently? without?? snark???) suggested the Fat Controller let Henry out of the tunnel to take a turn on his train? Honestly we don't know but it remains Gordon's signature style. Why did Gordon do an about-face after James took the express and graciously decide James was his new buddy? Well, to save face of course, but Gordon is also not above a good grudge so it feels like a coin toss. Why did Gordon decide to be super gracious when he rescued Percy and Thomas from their RWS scrapes? No one knows but somehow these moments are so quintessentially him (even though showing up moaning and scolding would have also been quintessentially him). And—most relevantly of all—there is what I regard as his archetypal moment with BoCo. 'My dear engine! You SAVED MY LIFE.' 'I mean, you're welcome for getting rid of them but they were never actually going to kill you.' 'YES THEY WERE. THEY HAD MURDER IN THEIR HEARTS. YOU ARE A GOD AMONG DIESELS, STANDING STRONG AGAINST THE FORCES OF DARKNESS.' '... Sure.' Gordon logic is not the same as earth logic and his reasons for rejecting or accepting others seldom make much sense.

If he does take you on, you may not even notice. Gordon is very stuffy and kind of... emotionally remote. His mentorship style consists of long rambling bouts of relating/boasting about his own experiences and/or advising you, without you able to get much of a word in edgewise—but then, he does this with everyone who is ever stuck with him—and doing extraordinarily nice things for you such as pulling strings to get you the best assignments or upgrades but he'll do it all behind your back, so it might take a while before you realize. (But you'd better, because even though he deliberately decides to do these things in secret, he will also privately feel hurt and hard-done-by if you don't figure it out and thank him. Or at least exclaim happily in his presence and sing the praises of your unknown fairy godfather.)

So yes, mentor!Gordon is a lot like friend!Gordon and worker!Gordon. He is pretty damn high-maintenance but he is also genuinely quite worth it. What his relationships lack in... comprehensibility they make up for in loyalty and generosity. ALTHOUGH. It's worth laughing because I think most of the engines he takes on are decent, polite engines who perhaps have some self-confidence issues. Basically it's like any engine he meets afterwards who is in the Edward mould he is actually magnificent to, which is hysterical considering that one of the keynotes in early canon was Gordon bullying the shit out of Edward. (I still think that wasn't malicious though, and more Gordon did not yet have the remotest understanding of Himself, Theory of Mind, or How to Be a Friend.)

If you have self-confidence issues but you do not win Gordon's capricious favor, never fear! You have James. Who is even more capricious, but that's not to say he's never been the most faaaaaabulous mentor in the world, c'est ne pas? Look. I want to see James as the catalyst for shy newcomers having a glow up. In appearance and attitude. I don't think he does he often but it has definitely happened around twice. I somehow have never actually watched "Rosie is Red" or "The Fastest Red Engine on Sodor" while paying attention but I've been assuming that's exactly how Rosie's Confident Girl Arc went down. Maybe he could be a similar idol for Neville or Flora. Another thing that has happened twice is James just flat-out corrupting a couple of the Good, Buttoned-Down Boys and Girls. I still want to see James take, like, Porter or Arthur and teach 'em anger. Introduce them to the world of (tiny) rebellions. By the time James is done with them, they are starting to Display Behaviors, and Act In Certain Ways.

Henry, I firmly believe (sticking out my tongue at most of the TVS and magazine writing for him), is actually regarded very intimidating. Like Gordon and James are intimidating too, but they are also known jackasses and the universe is known to have slapped them around reliably when they get too far up their own tenders. Also Gordon usually puts on an air of affability—in RWS it's Henry who is the Grumpy One (and meanwhile James, though he has a foul temper, is just too ADHD to be properly intimidating). I suspect Henry's actually always had the reputation for being extremely snobbish. Which is silly because he's only mildly to moderately snobbish, but there you are. He also doesn't put himself out there socially, but of course if you put yourself out there to him he's perfectly friendly. Anyway newcomers and young engines wouldn't know this right away. I think Henry's specialty is mentees in the mold of Bear and my OC Laura and even Rebecca—extroverted, expressive engines who show him respect. In those cases you see his best side, all kindliness and unstinting support. And Henry's support is really valuable, for the usual reasons that all the OGs have a lot of pull on the railway but also because Henry is surprisingly sage and sensible. He doesn't have the reputation for it the way Edward does, due to some of his notoriously poor decision-making in his earlier years and the way he can still sometimes be a bit literal or naive. But even if he's had to learn most things the hard way, he hasn't lied to himself about it and therefore he's developed a very clear-eyed view on things. Refreshingly simple and sound. We see this already in the RWS Super Rescue—he's got Bear and Spamcan pretty well-pegged long before the story ends. He also values engine solidarity in a really consistent, utterly unpretentious way that shows you he doesn't even think about it, it's just become a part of who he is. I love it. And, of course, he's bold as brass. He once hissed steam at his boss and essentially told him to fuck off for no better reason than it was raining and he just wasn't feelin' it. He had the most horrid wreck in the series and after being rebuilt he just got right back on that horse, pulling Flying Kippers again for the next century without the slightest sign of trauma. So if you need him for something, he won't hesitate to move earth and heaven for a friend. He may be a bit of a hypochondriac and likes to predict doom and gloom but he is fundamentally pretty fearless when it comes time for action. (Cut him a break with the elephant thing—he's allowed to have tunnel-related trauma, okay?)

Of course there was one extroverted engine inclined to hero-worship that Henry rejected in canon as a mentee, and that was Philip. Which brings us to Edward, and I fully agree with the fandom consensus that he is the mentor ever, capable of and inclined to look out for, like, everyone. All I'm saying is that I think the others can also step up in this way... Anyway, Edward's specialty of course is engines who are in the mould of Thomas, engines who are excited and eager to work but who talk a lot and might have a streak of mischief and who are definitely considered Too Much by everyone else. Edward likes energetic gremlins. They've always kept him young at heart. And, more importantly, they trust him so completely. Probably because they can tell he's one of the few who genuinely doesn't mind them at what everyone else considers their Most Annoying. He never tells them to hold still or quiet down or make themselves smaller in any way, so they are incredibly receptive to whatever he does tell them.

But what if you're Too Much and you are not eager? If you are not susceptible to admiring Edward's stellar work ethic? I think this is where Thomas shines. Like I think HIT abbreviated and simplified the conflicts with Dennis and Billy too much but it was such a gold mine. Because Thomas, see. You get these little sneaky rotters who don't want to listen to anyone—and at first Thomas seems like the most out-of-touch engine on the rails. Coz Thomas is a tryhard. He also has that whole "corporate positivity" thing going on. Like, the way I resolve the way TVS massacring my boy is by supposing that, after all, Thomas might have really tried to adopt that persona, especially in the '80s when he was inducted into the National Collection and the, well, television series got underway and Thomas becomes damn near the most famous locomotive in the world, certainly he knows he is an icon for children, and he might have figured that, well, this means I have to be a Good Role Model and Teach Children Valuable Lessons. And so he really did try to do this whole pep-talk, moralizing, sugary sweet encouragement thing (and he has a Word of the Day calendar, lol).

And the Dennises and Billies of the world look at that and—understandably, I think—retch a little. But then they double down. And the thing is, when they push Thomas too far, Thomas forgets to be sweetness and light, and just becomes himself. First of all, a foul-mouthed little drill-sergeant wannabe ("Cinders and ashes!!!!" "Who's been late every afternoon this week?!" "You're too fat—you need exercise!" "IF YOU DIE? IF YOU DIE, MOTHERFUCKER? SO WHAT?! I WOULDN'T GIVE A SHIT COZ I'D BE TOO BUSY FINALLY RUNNING MY GODDAMN TRAIN TO TIME." - all direct quotes from Thomas the Tank Engine, ladies and gents) Secondly, an extremely experienced engine who really has done a bit of everything by this point (he even hitched a ride on the Wild Nor'wester that one time, lol) and who is pretty skeptical so he's hard to fool (Percy was the last engine to really ever get one over on him, during the Ghost Train incident, and that's ancient history by this point). If you try to get away with doing a shitty job he's bound to notice and he will be quite acid-tongued if you've pierced his PR Persona. Third, although he can be kinda self-involved and the last to "get" what's going on with newcomers, he is surrounded by his old friends, who are all pretty good about either clocking an engine's whole Deal, getting all the tea like the gossips they are, or both. So while he was still in his amiable-idiot stage of your acquaintance, you, poor rebellious fool, thought you had the run of things but all the while he was getting up to speed on your whole deal. Which means you won't be prepared, should you really commit to ongoing antisocial behavior, for Thomas the Beacon of Children Everywhere to abruptly cast up your entire life story to you and to read it for filth, telling you the merciless truth about yourself in a way that the other engines pieced together but with which they probably never hit you deadass between the eyes.

Of course, this doesn't mean the would-be punks and malcontents who get onto Sodor are instantly cured, lol (though it has gone down that way a few times—my alternate version of Billy's intro story would feature an end where he's just gobsmacked into submission). Sometimes it just means you are going to decide Thomas is your Hated Enemy for Life, but you know what? You will have to step up your game in order to compete with him or even to gain enough clout to try and sabotage him so you're still playing into his hand (if we accept TVS's idea that 'Devious Diesel' did become a part of the Sodor family, I think this is how he was successfully integrated. At some point Thomas unexpectedly read him the riot act and Diesel was like 'who the FUCK are you?? like i know i already had beef with all the main line engines but where the hell did YOU come from???' but then after decades of competition they are essentially frenemies). But mostly the thing is, you are shell-shocked for just long enough, and you'd probably shift to being a bigger asshole than before... but, during that period where you're still burned, you are also looking at all of Sodor and every engine on it with fresh eyes (because if Thomas the Merchandise Engine could ream you out like that, perhaps you underestimated everything about this place). And you are noticing something else. Once Thomas has scalded you with his bitchery, he's also your friend. It's almost his version of sharing his lunch with you on the playground. (Something something salt and vinegar.) For all he rode Henry so hard from some of the earliest days of canon, I bet you he also beat down any 'outsiders' who took shots at him. For all he and Percy squabble, they are the closest of friends (and they weren't! for decades! but the more they squabbled, the closer they got). Getting into a knock-down fistfight is alarmingly close to Thomas's love language, and by the time he's savaged you verbally he is also invested in you. Once he's told you what he really thinks of you, he's also going to start showing up for you genuinely.

And that's when the little shits see the final side of Thomas. The genuine good humor. Obviously it doesn't win over everyone but there is a real groundedness and humility that I am sure Thomas can show (I tried to show this in the fic I made with @shinygoku based off their artwork of Thomas and Daisy) that is hard to resist. He's also fucked up along the way in every way imaginable so even when he side-eyes you, he's not looking down at you. I can just see him showing screw-ups a lot of grace so long as they let down their guard even somewhat because he's been there. Hoo boy, has he been there. That's why kids actually love him (it's not your vocabulary lessons and beaming smile, Thom, though the effort is appreciated), and it's why young engines can wind up loving him too. He doesn't hold what you've done in the past against you; he genuinely believes in second chances (and third, and...). Plus he knows every engine needs some excitement and responsibility in their lives. He has never forgotten the insanity-inducing frustration of being tethered to Vicarstown station.

Basically, once you cut past Thomas's earnest (and bullshit) attempt to be Perfect Kids' Role Model, he's actually always been great at keeping it real. And that's where a genuine respect can often grow.

43 notes - Posted December 14, 2022

#2

us, for ages now: lol ishmael was so gay and autistic, he woulda done numbers on tumblr

ishmael in the year of our lord 2022: doing numbers on tumblr

182 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the absolute contrast between most of the dracula daily content and mina's entries...

renfield and seward: stuck with each other (we're sposed to feel sorry for seward i think? but renfield is just vibing in a damn lunatic asylum and seward is a self-important jackass, so, you know. fuck him. i hope renfield feeds his corpse to some flies.)

captain of the demeter: his men are disappearing and he's facing imminent mutiny

jonathan harker: literally battling the forces of hell for his life and soul

mina: ahhhhh holidaying at the yorkish seaside is so pleasant! 😊 the scenery fulfills the soul! 😊 i tried to get one of the old locals to tell me a spooky story but he preferred to go home for tea haha, so quaint

also mina: i met my darling lucy at the station 😊😊😊 and let me just tell you, diary, that girl of mine looking fine af

594 notes - Posted July 24, 2022

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