#One Brain Cell Between 'Em

[thefreelanceangel]

[omegalomania]

some extremely funny things abt the discord q&a

patrick "randomly picked up" rick remender's the sacrifcers, seemingly unaware that his bandmate is literally writing a comic book (holy roller) with rick remender rn

joe gives one book recommendation (the glassy burning floor) while patrick and pete go off listing various titles they've picked up. pete recommends the three body problem but doesn't mention if he actually read the book, just says he watched the tv show. andy just says "my favorite book series is the dark tower by stephen king" END of question. love that guy

when asked who they'd like to tour with, alive or dead, patrick joe AND pete all make the same joke about how they'd like to tour with the alive band because they don't want to dig up the dead. i hate them.

question is "whats the moment you feel like you made it" and patricks like well i think when i realized people weren't leaving during saturday it felt like we made it. andys like the first time we signed to a major label it felt like we made it. joes like well during warped tour after sugar was released it felt like we made it. and petes like when we played metro and my mom whacked a giant inflatable dildo out of her face. okay pete

patrick wanted the original jacket from dance dance SO BAD but they wouldnt let him keep it no matter how much money they offered for it. for the arm's race video they had to make a knockoff

the guitar patrick uses in the saturday mv was one that joe essentially bought for him w the last of his bar mitzvah money and patrick LOVED it. and then in the saturday mv joe just absolutely destroyed it. but patrick kept a piece of it cause he loved it that much :')

pete still has franklin from the infinity on high cover but has said he's ended up in the pool before. also his cat beats him up.

joe got some custom molded vampire teeth for the sixteen candles video that never got used in the video proper, but he still has them!

petes dream collab is kid cudi. patrick is just happy to be here and likes collaborating with cool people. joe likes collaborating with his band the most :)

andy would love to collaborate with trent reznor but doesn't see it happening. andy ilu but i agree ldkfjdlkjfd

[purpleturtle9000]

Raph: Nothing in life is free.

Mikey: Love is free!

Leo: Laughter is free.

April: Adventure is free.

Splinter: Knowledge is free.

Donnie: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

[girlbooklover555]

"Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left?"

Poly!percabeth x fem!reader

warnings : cute and probably very ? corny ? summary : Percy suffering back pain and boredom to make his girlfriends happy

I'm using Google translator

Sally Jackson and Paul Blofis were not home.

They traveled, so Percy had the apartment to himself.

What would Percy Jackson want to do all weekend?

Certainly not a reading marathon, not that he hated reading, but having two reading girlfriends, he was as used to the smell of books as he was to seeing swords.

But he honestly just wanted to make out and watch a movie right now (he probably wouldn't even pay attention to the movie). But when he asked you and Annabeth to spend the weekend with him, he knew something to do with books was going to happen, even if it was just a joke one of you would play with the other about something.

At least he could look at both of you during the conversation and in some way while you talked enthusiastically about literary universes and character development.

Even if he pay attention, ADHD doesn't help much.

Two girls talking about reading.

Your girls.

It was something attractive, so sometimes, no matter how corny some people talked, their conversations and theories, or even literary disagreements (which sometimes took a while to end), was attractive to him.

Percy blinked his eyes, tired of boredom, and the playlist at the moment was rain.

Annabeth wasn't helping when she made that choice.

Neither you...

Your hand caressing the in his hair were great, plus the fact that you were Hypnos' daughter, so it didn't help his sleep much.

Percy tries to snuggle in the middle of the couch between the two of you, but now the couch, even though it wasn't hard, was uncomfortable after 2 hours there.

How you and Annabeth put up with this torture, he didn't know.

He got tired of trying to steal kisses half an hour ago.

' Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left? '

'Um momento, Seaweed Brain, estou em uma parte importante.'

At least he knew that the back pain didn't kill them, because every minute one of them changed position.

So, he played with a bracelet on Annabeth's wrist, which she was wearing, and took advantage of you touching his hair.

When Percy blinked again, he noticed that he woke up because of a sleep timer noise on his cell phone next to him.

“My turn to choose the playlist, Chase,” you say, excited to swap the sound of fake rain for a literary playlist.

Percy decided to go back to sleep again, while "Lovers Rock" started playing in the background.

When he woke up for the second or third time in the late afternoon, he smelled cookies coming from the kitchen and noticed that he was the only one on the couch and had a blanket covering him now too.

He looked up and saw, through the kitchen door, you and Annabeth talking something about cookies. “Sally uses more blue paint than that, honey,” Annabeth said.

Percy smiled and pretended to be asleep. At least this time he didn't drool in his sleep...

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side

part 2 is out! part 3! part 4!

whaddya know, i already have my first piece of writing that's not for an rp. it's a mess, but that's okay, because i admit i have no clue what i'm doing! i welcome all feedback as long as it's not just plain mean. when i asked for writing ideas, i was suggested to try my spin on the twst bully!au, and so i present: reader/yuu is done with their bs. no beta we die like my sleep schedule. genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, slight yandere that hasn't escalated yet word count:896

You’d had enough, thank you very much. The constant jeers, “misplaced” textbooks, and shoves in the hallway were only the beginning. Before long, you were beaten and bruised, and all for what? Just because you didn’t have magic? According to your research, the majority of the population here didn’t either! But alas, such was your plight. The professors turned a blind eye, and Crowley couldn’t care less.

So, when someone “accidentally” dislocated your shoulder during PE, you decided enough was enough. The students you’d never bothered to learn the names of were one thing; you were going to call your former friends out on their bullshit. Despite Grim’s protests, you dragged him all the way back to Ramshackle the moment you had a break in between classes. Why that timing? Because the model student prefect would never cut class, of course!

You locked the door not once, not twice, but three times, thanks to the padlocks you’d had placed on your stuff in the past. Then you took your time creating the Junk Tower. Your materials were all the scraps people had thrown in your yard in the past. You had quite the collection. The windows? They’d been boarded for years, according to the ghosts. Back door? Kalim had it removed. Something about first years sneaking in. You figure it’s better not to ask how he managed to have a door seamlessly replaced with walls in one afternoon.

About twenty minutes after the last class of the day ended, you had your first knock on the door. “Oi, prefect, open up!” Ace demanded. Because of course it was Ace. He was the first student you met here, so it was only fitting that he’d be the first to know you weren’t fucking around anymore. You ignored him.

The knocking stopped “Oi Ace, maybe they’re not home?” Deuce, ever the voice of reason, pondered. You weren’t sure whether to love or hate him. He’d stop others from picking on you, sure, but the moment you disobeyed him, he went back to his old delinquent ways.

“Well, they weren’t in class, and there’s no way my prefect’s with someone else, so they’ve gotta be inside!” Ace insisted. His prefect? Since when were you his? Did Ace eat something funny while you were gone? Because the last you checked, he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

Deuce’s voice dropped an octave, or maybe two. You weren’t too sure how that applied to speaking voices. “Oi, Ace, what the fuck do you mean your prefect? They don’t belong to you!” Yes, thank you for the reality check. Deuce must’ve had the brain cell today. “Obviously I’m way closer to them than you are!”

Scratch that. Deuce did not have the brain cell today. Really though, what was with them? Why in the world were they fighting over who was closer to you when all they’d done lately was make it clear how much they hated you? Oh, wait. They thought you could hear them. This must be some sort of trick. Trey and Cater must’ve put them up to it, since they were far too dumb to think of anything this elaborate on their own. You decided to ignore everything they said from here on out.

All was well, until Adeuce simultaneously let out an ungodly screech. Now that was troublesome. What could possibly scare those two like that? Surely nothing good for you. With luck, it’d be Riddle come to behead them for not wearing fluorescent pink or some other dumb rule, but you wouldn’t bet on it.

You soon had your answer. “Ne, where’s Shrimpy? I wanna squeeze ‘em!” Suddenly you didn’t blame those two for being scared. Floyd Leech in a bad mood was always a force to be reckoned with. You could never tell if he was in a good or bad mood when he was “squeezing” you, and quite frankly, you’d rather not know. The sick fucker probably took pleasure in hearing your bones pop and crack under the extreme pressure.

“Floyd-senpai! The prefect is, uh, we’re not actually sure where they are,” Ace volunteered. You almost pitied him, having to put up with the more rambunctious Leech during basketball practice. Almost.

“Hah? What do you mean you don’t know? Crabby is always crowding around Shrimpy like a little parasite,” Floyd whined. Um, what? Is Floyd in on the joke too? Is the whole school conspiring against you? You wouldn’t put it past them.

A cloud of dust blew up from the floor where you swung your foot back and forth, making you sneeze. You froze. Did they hear that? Wait, what were you acting so scared for? What were they gonna do anyway, break the door down and hit you? All within your expectations when you’d formed this plan. The point was to prove that you wouldn’t just sit and take it anymore. You’d seen all their dirty little secrets, especially during the Overblots; you could hit them where it hurt if you felt like it. No one would ever think the perfect little prefect would tell someone else what they’d confided in them! So when Floyd broke the door down with a display of monstrous strength, you were prepared. You greeted them with a smile. “Ne, you guys,” you began, “would you believe me if I told you I’m done with your bullshit?”

[zepskies]

Code Red

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Female Reader

Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

AN: So I didn’t think I’d ever write for this character, but it was prompted by a lovely anon and encouraged by my friend @thatonewriter15! I hope you enjoy. ❤️ 

Song Inspo: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. “I’ve found a love…”

Word Count: 1,500 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, suggestiveness, mega fluff

He was in the zone.

Four six-inch double buffalo chicken clubs with banana peppers on whole wheat bread (gross, but he wasn’t the one eating ‘em), two spicy Italians, and a tuna on rye.

Priestly wrapped them up with practiced precision and slid them down the line to Piper, Mission Impossible-style. She smiled at his antics and took them and brought them over to Tish at the register.

Priestly had another turkey and provolone on his docket, hold the mayo, when his cell buzzed in his pocket. Today he actually did have pockets. As in, he was wearing joggers, boots, and a graphic tee that said: NO TEQUILA, NO ENTRY.

He swiveled his phone in his hand like a drummer with a drumstick. He smiled when he saw your name flashing across the screen, and he answered it.

“Hey, Beautiful. What’s up?” he asked.

“Boaz, I need you,” you said. To his ears, your voice was sultry, and a bit strained.

He perked up with raised eyebrows.

“What’s holding up the turkey and cheese?” Piper asked.

Boaz held up a finger to the blonde and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands busied themselves with the next sandwich order, but he was all too attentive to your every word.

“Oh yeah?” he replied to you. His smile deepened. “Well, that’s convenient. Because I’m craving some of you, baby.”

You gave a breathy chuckle. “Normally I’d take you up on that, but no. I need you. As in, I really need you to do something for me.”

Priestly arched a brow. His brain was already filling up with ideas of how he could best help you. He mentally took an inventory of the “tools” in your nightstand drawer, and which ones he could best use to his advantage when he—

“Uhh, well, I got about one more hour in my shift,” he said, lowering his voice, even as it deepened a notch. “But if Jen covers me, I can be outta here in half the time.”

“Oh my God, good,” you gasped. “I’m in so much fucking pain, you have no idea.” 

Priestly blinked, and any thoughts of kinky fun times came to a screeching halt. Concern took over when he realized that the strain in your voice wasn’t from the sexy kind of need.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“I’m out of Midol, my uterus is rioting like it’s a Vietnam War protest, and…oh yeah, I need more tampons too,” you said. “But I legitimately cannot move from this couch.”

Priestly couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Ech, I hear ya. Are we in a Code Green, Code Yellow, or Code Red situation?”

Jen glanced over at him from where she was mopping the floor, and she gave him a questioning look.

What’s wrong? she mouthed.

“Code Red, definitely,” you answered with a sigh.

Priestly grimaced in sympathy. He mouthed back to Jen, Code Red.

She nodded in female understanding, and raised a hand that said, Say no more.

“Okay, yeah,” Priestly replied to you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You released a sigh of relief. “And if you want to throw in a Snickers, I wouldn’t hate it.”

He chuckled at that one.

“You got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in T minus an hour, give or take.”

You groaned. “Can’t you just steal a DeLorean or something?”

“You know, I could, but that would mean I’d be going back further into the past before you even needed to call me, and I’d still probably be making sandwiches since I’ve been working here since damn near 2000 B.C. But you know what, they should really call that movie Back to the Present, since they don’t actually go to the future until—”

“Okay,” you had to laugh, even though it was edged with discomfort. “I’ll see you later.”

At the supermarket, after his shift at Beach City Grill, Priestly had most of the supplies he needed for a successful mission. All he was missing was his old enemy on Aisle 2.

Once again, he faced a wall of tampons. All bright colored boxes and numbers and sizes…

Okay, not Code Green, so not the slender ones that might as well be match sticks. Not Yellow, so no to Regular…ah! Here we are. Super Plus.

AKA: Code Red. Complete with leak guard, no latex. He grabbed the blue box and threw it into his basket of essentials, including no less than three assorted chocolate bars and a pint of Ben & Jerrys. He knew his girl, and you liked your Half-Baked ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie pieces.  

He brought over his haul to the checkout line. Sure enough, Gerry, one of the locals, was finally old enough to buy a case of beer by himself. He glanced at the blue box Priestly was taking out onto the conveyor belt and smirked.

“No slender regulars this time?” Gerry remarked.

Priestly’s smile was tight. “No, Gerald. Slenders are for pussies.”

“Literally,” the blonde beanpole snorted. “What, your girlfriend got a heavy flow this month?”

Priestly rolled his eyes, and his mouth pressed in a line. The word flow still kind of grated on him like nails on a chalkboard, but what irked him more was this guy imagining any part of your intimate parts.

“All right, my girl’s flow is none of your business,” he said. “Once you hit puberty and grow your first pubes, you’ll understand.”

Gerry floundered while Priestly continued on to make his purchases. Even the cashier was smiling, trying not to laugh as he silently gave Priestly his props for a burn well made. Priestly shot the guy a nod and a smile before he left with his spoils.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Priestly sing-songed.

He stepped through the door with his keys still jangling in his hand. He was trying to balance the big bag of groceries while closing the door to the apartment he shared with you.

Your head perked up from the living room couch, and your hand slowly curled up, beckoning him over. Priestly obliged you. He peered over the side of the couch and smiled at the way you were all curled up under a throw blanket, already in your pajamas, while FRIENDS reruns played on the TV.

“Finally,” you said with a tired smile. But not the kind of finally that just meant you were impatient for the goods he carried. The kind of finally that also meant you were happy to see him.

He laid a comforting hand on your head, leaned down, and pressed a kiss above your brow. You held him there by the collar of his shirt, prompting him to kiss you for real. Your hand moved up his tattooed neck and your nails gave the back of his head a little scratch, careful not to disrupt the blue mohawk.

He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, just enough to try and gauge how you were feeling.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.

“Like a beach umbrella in a hurricane,” you replied wryly. “You got the stuff?”

Priestly held the grocery bag tucked under his arm like it was a drug deal.

“Oh, I got the stuff, if you got the money,” he said.

You nodded, and your small smile turned mischievous. “I got your money, Big Man.”

With your hand delicately hooked behind his neck and the other gliding up his arm, he didn’t realize he was falling into a trap.

You tugged his arm hard enough to try and get him to fall over the back of the couch.

“Hey!” he yelped. Yet he also laughed while you tried your best to pull him overboard.

He had to toss the bag of groceries to the floor next to you, but he managed to get over and onto the couch without crushing you. He probably smelled like old sandwich and mayonnaise, but you didn’t seem to care. 

You just helped him settle in behind you, with your back to his chest. This was the only way you’d find comfort for your lower back. It had been aching since you woke up this morning.

You grabbed his closest hand and guided it under your overlarge sleep shirt, then under the waistband of your panties. You laid his warm hand flat against your cramping lower belly.

Priestly pressed a kiss behind your ear and tucked his arm underneath your head. He felt the rise and fall of your sigh as you leaned back against him, and his smile softened.

“You’re gonna fall asleep without digging into your treasure trove,” he teased. “I even got your favorite ice cream.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder in interest.

“Half-Baked?” you asked.

“Yep, for extra brownie points. Eh? See what I did there?”

Your body shook with a quiet laugh. You reached your hand back to touch his bearded cheek this time. Your fingers toyed with his many earrings.

“Did you know that you’re my favorite human?” you said. “Like, ever?”

He smiled against your neck. “Could’a sworn I was your third favorite, behind Ben and Jerry.”

“Nope, just you,” you said, snuggling back further into his warmth. “Thank you, baby.”

Priestly realized then that he’d found it.

He’d really, honest to God found the life he didn’t think he’d get, with a woman who didn’t want him to change; who just wanted him to be here.

Though he smirked when you reached for the bag and dug out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

You giggled. “Shut up.”

AN: Priestly was such a fun character lol. I rewatched 10 Inch Hero this past week and this was the first thing I thought to write! If you liked this, let me know! (And if you want more Priestly.) 😘

Read the Prequel!

If you liked Code Red, read the start of their story:

▶️ The Miracle Man

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

(Lovelies from my "Everything" tag list. If you want to be tagged on Priestly stuff specifically, check out the Tag List link in my bio.)

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989

[ooffmlsorry]

One Piece Men Driving (you around)

monster trio

A/N: I don't know a lot about Kid but I thought I'd give a shot anyway :I I'm really sorry if he's OOC

LAW

Would make a great get away driver honestly, like he genuinely has a great understanding of driving/the road and hardly ever gets lost and he knows you think that's hot

He drives SO FAST like WHERE ARE YOU GOING??? This man actively considers the speed limit a challenge

For that reason he's either always early or on time to pick you up...but somehow suspiciously late getting you home 😉

8/10 times he's in charge of the music, it depends on your taste and his mood honestly. If you don't have the same music taste, he'll grin and bear it because he loves you, really you're torturing this man

Yeah he drives really fast but never in a school zone or neighborhood, he takes that really seriously

Acts like it's a big pain to drive you around but secretly loves it and always claims he was headed that way even if he wasn't

Loves late night drives with you that end in some empty parking lot to talk for hours or make out or both

The two of your are menaces to late night convenience store clerks

Loves holding your hand or keeping a hand on your thigh while driving

Keeps his car pretty clean except for all the coffee cups and energy drink cans on the floor in the backseat that he thinks you don't notice

KID

His car > you sorry not sorry

Drives a loud, obnoxious hot rod

Drives like a MANIAC and LOVES IT. Fuck it we ball, if y'all die then y'all die. This man is not afraid to take a risk and you know that

That being said he'd probably never put you in real danger

"Oh look, y/n there's some kids riding their bikes. LET'S HIT 'EM!!" does not actually hit the kids but definitely keeps a point score in his head as if he did. "You know I just missed 40 points for you, tricycles are worth more."

Doesn't let you drive it but thinks you look totally hot behind the wheel

Gets there when he gets there, babe, but wherever you're going you're going in style

Genuinely loves blasting the music when he's near you so you know he's on the way

The best part of driving with him is being obnoxiously loud and wild and free together

Acts like he's gonna crash just to mess with you a little

Drag races for sure

Secretly prefers your company over everyone else's while tinkering with the car y'all have definitely fucked on top of it like he just likes having you in presence while he works, it kind of puts him at peace

There's definitely some kind of detail that's an homage to you and any sort of decoration you buy that he can put in his car he will

ACE

I'm so serious DO NOT distract this man

It takes every last brain cell he has not to fuck up

Like when he's alone he's fine, but as soon as another person's in the car with him he gets so distracted especially with you

He can't help it he's just so happy to see you and talk to you and look at you and whoops! There was the exit he was supposed to take

He's either picking you up a half an hour early or twenty minutes late there's no in between

Y'all share the music but he can listen to just about anything just don't put on anything boring

You already know the deal, if y'all end up going out to eat you're driving home because he's absolutely asleep

Definitely prefers back roads and intentionally takes the "long way" so he can spend more time with you

Of course there's a 50/50 chance y'all are gonna get real lost anyway so either way he's spending more time with you

Gets really embarrassed anytime he fucks up so don't backseat drive because it'll only make it worse

King of Normalize Hitting the Curb™️

Loves a good snack run

[shadebloopnik]

Gettin thoughts for the Angelic Alastor AU

Alastor/Lucifer/Lilith as a poly is actually really fun to think about lol, or maybe its just the AU

Alastor finds em both nude in the garden of Eden, both winking at him and invitin him to join. He throws an entire bush to cover them bc "Why in creation would you do it in the open, do you want to get caught I swear-"

Lucifer cutting down their ideas bc "No you're not putting Nightshade in Adam's food." "But he won't dieee, the Angels wouldn't let that happen." "That should include us!" Lilith and Alastor are still hunched over each other, giggling. Luci still doesn't know how serious they were.

Lilith rubbing a hand down her face bc the two have been arguing for hours all "I just don't see how it could even compare to the majesty of that of a deer-" "It can fly, swim, walk and its ADORABLE-" She was fishing for compliments when she asked them what they thought the most amazing creation in Eden was(she spent an eternity placing those flowers in her hair damnit)

Basically the throuple shares one(1) brain cell, and all of them think they're the ones to have it at all times. (The braincell randomly transfers between them like a game of invisible hot potato)

[hi-sierra]

Biologics, chapter 0.5

Hello, hello! I finally have added a significant amount to my story, Biologics, resulting in a total of ~4400 words. Not a whole ton, I know, but unfortunately life gets to ya. It isn't quite where I want it to be to consider a proper chapter one, but I feel like there's enough written for me to post. General warning that this is intended to heavily lean into the theme of "eroticism of the machine", so if that doesn't appeal to you, you've been warned. It does, however, have many general sci fi worldbuilding elements, so I hope it has a somewhat broad appeal!

So yes, if you already read the first snippet, that's going to be mostly a one to one repeat with some grammatical adjustments. Feel free to scroll down until you get to the new stuff. Flow-wise, there just wasn't a good place to break between the two sections.

Look at me rambling. And I wonder why I can't get any of this stuff done. Anyways, here it is!

Biologics

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with Biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- organic matter that interfaced with the hull, moving new titanium plates and patches into place down to microscopic precision. If you had a living, growing mass interfacing with steel, a ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous matrix full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, integrated with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, just to let them suffer and rot. So as far as the official record was concerned, they weren't brains. But I knew different.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on an... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship, was thriving. The Navy was pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. Sometimes, being scavenged and resold was a kinder fate. But more often, some nasty piece of work would pick them up eventually, and treat them like just another goddamn ship. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chassis I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips, as well as some... personal touches. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live in and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I slipped into the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as a tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Hell, she even had a hi-res screen for external cameras and comms, but she refused to interface directly with it. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, the little pixelated screen was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with Biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. Cuz they certainly could take over some ships functions directly, and had the skill to do complex mechanical and electrical tasks. The Navy never let 'em drive, though, and most pilots didn't even know they could give them the ability to control any of the ships functions directly. But with a little help, a little bit of solid engineering, and a pilot that knew their ship... well, you could do a lot. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well. Over the years, I'd added some nice things for her, and she loved using them to help me out.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers affixing them to the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on.

[...?]

"We got a scrap run."

[ ^_^]

[ :) ]

[ ^_^ ]

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and the parts Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time. I punch the boost.

The station shakes. Rosie was never a subtle one.

The mechanics are deafened.

The crowd of spectators are deafened.

The other pilots in the hanger are deafened.

But me? The vibrations of Rosie's hull shuddering under me was the sweetest symphony my ears ever had the pleasure of hearing. As we shot out of that hanger, I found myself involuntarily humming a high note, harmonizing with the sweet rumble of my baby's acceleration as we shoot out into the inky, black expanse of space. The twin asteroids shot by us as we disappeared, leaving only the faint blue plasma trail from our engines.

My hand is firm on the boost, weathered hands tightly gripping the bar of the accelerator. I remember installing this thing in her- it was an aftermarket adjustment, not included in the usual light skipper chassis. Gently stripping away the back of her chassis, caressing her insides as I rooted the paneling, firmly attaching the tanks and burners on her insides... these hands had taken great pleasure in that. Bested only, of course, by the first time I had felt the thing roar to life.

And what a feeling it was. Rosie's entire chassis, biological and mechanical, shuddering under my grasp. The grip of my calloused hands on the boost controls, tight and sweaty around the ridged grip of the horizontal bar. The noises she made, as if to shout in glee and wild abandon at being unchained and let loose into the eternal field of space, as she was made to do. The gentle touch of her skin on my back, my body pressed in contact with the small fraction of hers that was my seat. I glanced down at her face panel.

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

My humming gave way to a chuckle, and then a wholehearted, exhilarated laugh. Someone was enjoying herself. The flickering faces on her panel reminded me of the happily panting station dogs back on Mars.

But as much as I would like this to just be a joyride, I had promised Rosie a scrap run. And the pickings were looking good. I glanced down at the nav. I was intentionally headed at a slightly indirect angle- Rosie's boost was her main attractive feature (both as a ship, and as a working partner), and the extra leeway I had in travel time let me strategize a bit more. I doubted we would be the first people there, but I figured we could get in before the main rush. The only trouble was darting in and grabbing something right from under the noses of the first locusts. The scrap field in question included a disabled heavy mining freighter, a goliath of the ship larger than some of the asteroids it made supply runs between. I assumed that most other scavengers would be approaching directly from our station, and the other stations in its proximity. With Rosie's boost, we could overshoot, hook around, and put the freighter in between us and the guns of the more violent craft. Rosie has no long range weapons of any kind- not only would they slow down her miraculous speed, but she didn't like them. I tried installing a small plasma cannon once, and she expressed immense distaste. Maybe they were too brutish for her, or maybe she didn't like the way they felt inside her, burdening her with pressure from the inside that didn't befit the delicate touches I usually graced her with. Rosie loved speed, precision, elegance, and stealth above all else. It's just the kind of ship she was.

That's not to say she was a pacifist, or defenseless. Quite the contrary. She just prefers a more... personal touch.

The navicom beeped at me. We'd reached the point where we needed to make that hook. My bare feet gently swept across the titanium flooring to the steering pedals. My right hand delicately gripped the steering joystick, while my left eased its grip on the boost accelerator.

"Ready for this, darling?"

[ >:) ]

I slammed the steering to the left, and Rosie gleefully complied. The wide bank of the turn as we rotated and soared through the sea of stars twisted my body in its inertia, compressing me further into her. As the angle straightened out to the proper heading, I punched the boost again, and Rosie roared forward.

Slowly, our target came into sight. Damn. This thing had taken some serious damage. Mining freighters typically weren't heavily armored- their only job was to get material from point A to B- but this one had clearly been through some serious modifications. Modifications that now lay in ruin. Titanium plating was scattered in a field around the core of the freighter. I couldn't quite tell what was stuff left behind by the battle, and what was the result of shoddy craftmanship- but it didn't matter. What did matter was that the entire thing had been split almost in half, and the scattered cargo that was leaking out. Cargo that most likely included half the weapon supplies of this little rebel faction. Would fetch a pretty penny, to the right buyer. And hell, if it was just gonna sit here unclaimed...

Ah shit. It wasn't gonna sit here unclaimed. Despite my best efforts, it looks like we weren't the first ones here. A larger scavenger gang had already arrived, and it looks like it was one of the ones I knew- Augustus and his lot. Most likely, they'd be after the weapons intact, one more thing to use to shakedown the scattered independent stations I always flitted between. He would not be happy to see me n Rosie here. What he called his "fleet" was a single, mid-sized carrier ship, about half the size of the freighter we were looting, and the dozen or so scout fighters and strip mining crafts he had looted from the Navy and various corps, and one Biologic that he called his. I respect that part, to be honest. What I don't respect is him immediately turning around and using that charge every goddamn station his ever-increasing "protection fees". Not to mention my personal disdain for the way he treated his ship. Didn't even give her a damn name. I digress. But any chance to loot something from under that slimebag's nose was a win in my book. I knew he wasn't gonna make it easy, though.

Welp. That's what our positioning was for. The side facing us was the main starboard face, and like the rest of the ship, it was peppered in small holes and gashes. Seems like the main damage had happened from the other side, and a few cables and scaffolds on the starboard just barely kept the two rear cargo compartments clinging to the front.

"Alright Rosie, time to creep it in slow. Be quiet, now, don't want them picking up a plasma surge"

[ :| ]

Ha. That was her "my lips are sealed" face. She's having fun with this already.

I cut the booster, coasting closer and closer to the bust open vessel. I eased the reverse thrusters ever so slightly, my fingers gently stroking the dual brake levers, lightly teasing at them to wait until we were as close as I thought we could be without attracted attention.......... before slamming both sides back towards me. For just one, crucial moment.

The goal here was to approximately match the speed and trajectory of a floating piece of titanium plating. Rosie's frontal blades were essentially that, anyways, so all they would see is a somewhat more angular piece of rubble. Hopefully they hadn't seen that same piece of rubble screaming out of travel speed, but I was cautious enough with my distances that I didn't think that was a problem. And they hadn't seen me yet. Once we were close enough to the freighter itself, we were blocked from their raw sightline, and Rosie was running quiet enough to not tip off any of their energy sensors.

But there was still no guarantee. Rosie, however, had no shortage of tricks. Something that she and I had developed together was a nice little bit of snooping. Well cared for and well trained, a Biologic brain had the problem solving of a human, and the computational power of a machine. But them together, and you've got a perfect decoder. And I happened to know that Augustus used an encrypted local frequency to keep his

"Alright Rosie, thinkin you can eavesdrop a little?"

Affirmative.

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[..!]

:D

My comms crackled to life. "...7 heavy cannons in center-front portside bay, 3 replacement fighter hatchs...."

The comms crackled back and forth, with each pilot giving updates to what they were finding in their own little segment that they were slicing apart. Occasionally, I saw Augustus or the fighters flick between the slicing ships, overseeing their progress on the port bays. Good. Let them focus on the other side for now. Slowly, the fleet was overshadowed by the freighter. We made it. I released my breath- shit, didn't realize I was holding it- and took a better look at what we were dealing with. It looked as if the scattered debris field had mostly been the remnants of the hull, as well as light weapons for small craft and even infantry. They would fetch some small change, sure, but Rosie's cargo capacity was small. Packing efficiency was the name of the game. I saw the gash that it had all been flooding out of on this side- the entire freighter was covered in them- and peered inside. And ho boy, did my heart flutter.

Heavy cannons.

Jump-graded travel boosters.

Raw, precious metals.

And, hidden in the back corner, seemingly bolted into the wall.... a brain.

We'd hit jackpot, and potentially rescued a poor ship from abandonment, or worse.

"Alright Rosie. Time to get to work."

Affirmative.

And here was another lil something that made Rosie special- her manipulation arms . She always preferred that delicate touch, and wanted to interact with the world in a tactile, real way. So we worked on it. Together. I was tired of taking spacewalks to grab small pieces of scrap, or using the entire goddamn cargo bay on a piece that only had a tiny core, or scraps of precious metals inside. So we needed something that could pluck apart our finds. Do some light disassembly in the field, extract what was valuable, and load it in with the most packing efficiency possible. So I gave her arms- snake like appendages, coiled up in her cargo bay, with thousands of points of articulation. At first, I tried to make some kind of control system that I could use from the cockpit. But Rosie had a different idea. At her urged, I jacked them directly into the same sensory and motor systems that let her grip onto, position, and repair her hull. And by god, it worked.

When I showed her off the first time, no one had ever seen anything like it. Because there was nothing like it. A ship taking real mechanical control, over something so precise and delicate, was something that only a deeply intelligent, deeply skilled ship, with complex decision making and tactile movement could do.

And I was goddamn proud of her.

Every time she deployed them, I watched awe. Rosie gave a face of determination, and sinuous, metallic, tentacle-like appendages slid out in a bundle from the cargo bay opening on her underside. Each one was headed off by a different attachment- a precision laser cutter, a simple three-pointed grabbing claw, a drill, a tiny buzzsaw, camera that let me see what was going on, and more. Each one could be swapped out, depending on the task at hand. With eight of them slithering out from her cargo bay, though, there was usually something for everything. They extended out as a single bouquet, down through the hole of the cargo compartment, and split apart once inside. Each arm got to work.

Her observation monitor flickered on, giving me a view from the camera arm. I would've liked to get the brain out first, but two heavy cannons and a booster blocking the way anyways. We'd cut through that, picking off the energy cores and precious metals in the circuits as we go, and work our way towards the back. Rosie seemed to like the plan as well. My only job was to watch the comms, and watch the sensors.

I watched the camera as the petite tools of the arms excised and picked apart the titanium shell of the first heavy cannon. Her tools- the delicate 'fingers' of her arms- picked, pulled, tugged, and gently gripped every necessary notch, every joined titanium plate that needed to be undone, ever scrap of precious material. Firm, yet precise. Strong, yet never breaking or mishandling a single piece of cargo. As Rosie worked, my eyes darted across the energy sensors. I could see blips firing off as the ships on the other side of the freighter as the slicing ships worked and flitted between their stations from the other side. The comms crackled with their reports to Augustus- they seemed to be moving back and forth to the main carrier to drop off their hauls. It seemed like they had a lot to go through- we'd have plenty of time.

On the camera view, I could see a grabbing claw retracting back through the cargo bay. The first cannon had the back section cleanly excised from the massive barrel and chassis, leaving a path for the tools to get to the booster. The precious energy cell was sliding its way back into Rosie's cargo bay. God damn. She was quick with that. The laser cutter and saw were already making short work of the booster, too. We'd get to the brain in no time.

The chatter on the other line continued. We were still safe, but Augustus' crew had made more progress than I had hoped. Once the slicers had picked apart the port, they'd loop around to the starboard. We had to grab what we could as fast as we can- but I knew neither me or Rosie was gonna leave without that brain. Rosie gracefully sliced the fuel cell and ignition from the plasma burner, leaving the bracketing and vents behind. The second heavy cannon was soon to follow. Each cut through each piece had left a winding path towards the back of the chamber, allowing a physical path to what I had seen just barely poking through: a container for a genuine ship's brain. Rosie slid her camera arm in for a closer look.

The brain was bolted into the chassis of the ship, as well as some containers of growth factor. Seemed like the intent was to grow her in to this freighter. That was certainly an ambitious task, but if they knew what they were doing, it would be well worth it. A self-repairing, intelligent hauler as large as this one would be the heart and soul of resistance movements everywhere, supplying every backwater mining station or moon that longed to be free. Unfortunately, the brave and principled can still be stupid, and these chucklefucks had no idea what they were doing. Slapped in a random cargo bay, desperately trying to get growth out from there with no proper imprinting guidance... shame. If they'd've found me before running into the Navy, I might've helped them out. But at least now, we could give her a better life. I knew a lot of good, caring pilots that would take loving care of a fine ship like her.

From what I could tell, we were still safe from Augustus. Based on what I was hearing on the comms, each slicer was working on its last cargo hold subsection, and after that, they'd be poking around this side. We had to get this brain and get out.

Tenderly, her claw arm gripped the top of the brain's chamber, as her other fingers started working on the rivets. A saw would bust through part of the titanium bracket holding the chamber down, and when it got too close to the container itself, laser cutters took over, delicately slicing off each affixation point one by one. Rosie worked in a clockwise direction, first working down the three riveting points on the right, sawing off the bottom bracket, and then working up the rivets on the left.

C'mon Rosie. You got this. Just need the top plate....

"Finishing up there, slicer 5T?"

Shit. That was Augustus on the comms.

"Sure thing boss. Just gotta get this load to central. Mind if someone takes a peek on the other side for parasites before I get there?"

Shit.

"Sure thing. Fighter 3A, get your ass in gear and make a full pass of the ship."

An energy spike pinged on my sensor panels as the fighter revved up a booster.

"Gotcha boss. Starting at aft segment."

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit

We still had a sliver of time before we were seen. They'd wanna get a good pass everywhere- there were ships far stealthier than us out there. But it was minutes at most. We had to finish up.

"Rosie, how're we doing there? You done?"

Negative.

[ ;( ]

"Fuck. Rosie, we gotta get outta here."

Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative.

Rosie-speak for "I know, I know, I know"

My eyes were fixed to the scanner and my cockpit windows for a visual, but I spared one moment to check Rosie's cam. She was finishing sawing through the top bracket. Just a little more....

"Aft clear, moving to starboard cargo bays."

The brain snapped off of the hull, and Rosie's claws were zipping it back to her cargo bay. I revved the engines into standby. The arms tenderly guided it through the path we had cleared, and out through the hole in the hull. We might be able to barely slip away without them knowing.....

I looked up through the cockpit, just as the dinged-up, formerly Navy fighter showed itself from behind a piece of debris. It froze for a moment, and then lined its nose to face me. Cannon ports shifted open, and slowly took aim.

"Well shit, Augustus, you're gonna wanna see this. Get your ass over here, I'm switching to public comms."

I heard slight fuzz as he switched his channel.

"Alright, leech, I'll keep this simple. You have thirty seconds to relinquish your haul before you join the debris."

For a single, cold moment, I swear I made eye contact with him through our cockpits.

[thefreelanceangel]

FebHyurAry #14 - Date

[artiststarme]

Wayne deserves way more credit

Just a little snippet I came up with for an interaction between Wayne and the boys. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Wayne didn’t get paid enough for this shit. It had been a long week and an even longer shift with him pulling doubles while one of his coworkers was off on disability. He just wanted to head to bed after a nice cup of coffee when he got back home. What he didn’t want was to be roped into yet another tedious argument between his nephew and his boyfriend. He was over their ridiculous spats and their meddling in his morning coffee time. Yet, here he was. 

“Wayne, Wayne, tell Eddie you’d adopt me if he broke up with me! I’m becoming a Munson whether you like it or not, you fucker!” Steve shouted, pointing an accusing finger at his nephew. 

“I’m not threatening to break up with you. I’m just saying that I’m not some damsel in distress that you need to protect. You need to stop!” Eddie tried to reason. 

“That’s not what you were saying twenty minutes ago, asshole!” 

“Uncle Wayne, tell him that he needs to stop beating up everyone that looks at me wrong or he’s going to give himself another concussion!” Eddie shouted back. 

Wayne just sipped his coffee. He was only on cup one but this was turning out to be a three cup day. This happened more than he liked but that just meant he had a system in place. He would let the boys rant it out with one another before he ended it. 

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Mr. ‘almost eaten to death by demon bats’! If I want to kick someone’s ass for calling you a murderer, I will!” Now, Wayne couldn’t argue with him there. He wasn’t sure what the bat reference meant but if Eddie’s boy wanted to stick up for him, Wayne wasn’t going to stop him. Anyone protecting Eddie got a gold star in his book and Steve Harrington was in first place. 

“You can’t get another concussion! You need all the brain cells you have!” Eddie yelled angrily. 

“Are you calling me stupid? You know how I feel about that, Eddie. What the fuck?! Wayne, defend me!”

Wayne heaved a deep sigh before turning to Eddie. “Eddie, we don’t call people names in this household and you know that.”

“But he-”

“Steve, you need to stop picking fights because Hopper’ll kick my ass if you get another head injury on my watch. If you’re gonna be fighting, give ‘em a sucker punch so they can’t hitcha back.”

“Wayne! Don’t tell my boyfriend to pick fights over me. What the hell?” Eddie sputtered. 

“I’ll tell your boyfriend whatever I want! And he’s right, if you try to break up with him, I will adopt him. He’s getting the Munson name one way or another and if you’re not gonna do it, I will. Now get the hell outta here, I’m going to bed.”

Both boys grumbled but grabbed their things and left regardless. Eddie gave him a short hug in goodbye as he left. Wayne just sighed, another crisis averted. If they kept this up though, he was going to need way more coffee than his daily allowance.

[rantaroamamifuturegf]

I see danganronpa fanfic blog and i click 😈

OKAY ON A SERIOUS NOTE 1ST YOUR LAYOUT IS SO CUTE AND 2ND is it okay if i request like Kaito Momota, Shuichi Saihara, and Maki Harukawa (seperately) x a gender neutral s/o who acts EXACTLY like them? Feel free to just use 1 character or to skip!

A/N: Firstly THANK YOUU secondly I love ur pfp I like kel is soo cute n feel free to send a request anytime also sorry it took a while to come out I've been busy this week, spoilers on Maki's part

Plot: When they dated the exact same person as them

Characters being used: Shuichi Saihara, Maki Harukawa, Kaito Momota

Shuichi

Oh boy that talking stage you both had 😭😭😭, it’s like watching 2 people who have a crush on each other knows the other has a crush on them but yet still don’t know how to even process words to each other yet

And since Kaede and Shuichi were close she had to in between both of you guys awkwardness

But soon or later you both got together and still the quiet reminds somewhat, You usual started the the conversations but you were both to shy with one another lol

And since Kaede and Shuichi were close she had to in between both of you guys awkwardness

Despite being detective it took bro a while that you both acted exactly like the other but he didn't really mind I mean you both were getting along and plus same interests

I guess the pros that came with it, is that you both were really good at investigating with one another and during the trials when Kokichi wants to be annoying you're really helpful with finding out his lies and which is the truth

Overall pretty good!!

Maki

You were as quiet as her, I mean you both liked each other in a romantic way but neither of you are romantic in such a way

You usually started the conversations and she’ll carry em out or she’ll start it but most of the time it’s just you lol

If you guys have nothing to talk, you two would just together enjoy each other’s company in silence

Maki was a bit weirded out by the fact you were like the 2nd version but then again you both got along so not really much of her to think about it.

You both equally hated Kokichi and but you would get annoyed by him faster than she does.

You both are very open with each other so you were the first person to know about her actually ultimate, She was a bit worried you might leave her over it or might not want her anymore because she lied about her ultimate to you but to her surprised you stayed with her. Didn't even overreact on it either.

Private workouts togetherrrr

Def investigating with each other even if you both found nothing at least you both tried together

Once the killing game got more insane Maki want you stay by her side not wanting you to get hurt even if you know how to defend yourself. She still wanted to be there.

Lowkey she was promise you both would survive the killing game.

Kaito

The amount of time you both talked at the same time and even said the same thing at the same time, it’s like both of you were sharing a brain cell lol

Kaito didn't mind you exactly like he actual finds funny and cute

You both workout with each other from time to time and always so supportive of each other

When someone talks one of you down the other would stick up even if they get talked down too

You both equally have you're dumb moments honestly lol

He didn't want you around Koichi or anyone he found suspicious especially once the killing game gets more heated, He'll mostly trust you alone with Shuichi and Maki

Bro WILL rant about space to you and how he's so excited to soon and says how both of you are going to leave the killing game and he's gonna send pics of space even if there's no service

You both are the motivational speakers of the group if anyone is scared or worried about dying you both will motivate the hell out of em till they feels safe once more

Ofc y'all are investigating together most it's just the 2 of investigating with Shuichi honestly lol

[razorblade-richards26]

the outsiders: two bit edition( because he’s the most underrated)

Scene: The Curtis House – Afternoon

The gang is sitting around the living room, trying to figure out what to do. Two-Bit is lounging on the couch, flipping through a comic book.

Dally: (frustrated) I’m bored. What’s there to do around here?

Two-Bit: (without looking up) How about you go find some Socs and offer them free haircuts? You know, show ‘em what they’re missing.

Steve: (laughing) You’d probably get yourself killed, man.

Two-Bit: (grinning) Yeah, but at least they’d look good for their funerals.

Scene: The Drive-In – Night

The gang is watching a movie, but Two-Bit is more interested in cracking jokes. He’s sitting next to Johnny, who’s trying to focus on the screen.

Johnny: (whispering) Two-Bit, I’m trying to watch the movie.

Two-Bit: (smirking) What’s to watch? The plot’s thinner than Dally’s patience.

Johnny: (grinning) You’re impossible.

Two-Bit: (shrugging) Hey, if you wanted peace and quiet, you should’ve gone to the library.

Scene: The Park – Morning

The gang is hanging out at the park, talking about the upcoming rumble. Two-Bit is leaning against a tree, sipping a soda.

Darry: (serious) We’ve got to be ready for anything. No messing around.

Two-Bit: (raising his soda) I’ll drink to that. Here’s to getting our heads kicked in—again.

Sodapop: (laughing) You’re not supposed to be looking forward to that, Two-Bit.

Two-Bit: (grinning) What can I say? I’m a sucker for punishment.

Scene: The Curtis House – Evening

The gang is gathered around the kitchen table, eating dinner. Two-Bit, as usual, is cracking jokes between bites.

Ponyboy: (talking about school) I’ve got this new English teacher who’s all about Shakespeare.

Two-Bit: (grinning) Shakespeare, huh? I bet you’re the only greaser who knows what that guy was talking about.

Ponyboy: (smiling) Maybe.

Two-Bit: (mocking serious) “To be or not to be—that’s the question.” My question is, who’s got the guts to finish this meatloaf?

Dally: (laughing) You’re hopeless, Two-Bit.

Scene: The Rumble – Night

The gang is getting ready for the rumble, and tensions are high. Two-Bit, as usual, tries to lighten the mood.

Darry: (serious) Everyone stay sharp. We don’t want any screw-ups.

Two-Bit: (grinning) Don’t worry, Darry. I’ve got a secret weapon.

Steve: (raising an eyebrow) What, your mouth?

Two-Bit: (laughing) Exactly. I’ll keep talking till they beg for mercy.

Scene: The Curtis House – Afternoon

Two-Bit walks in on Ponyboy studying for a test. He takes one look at the textbook and shakes his head.

Two-Bit: (smirking) Man, you’re making the rest of us look bad with all that studying.

Ponyboy: (grinning) Someone’s gotta do it.

Two-Bit: (sitting down) Not me. I prefer to keep my brain cells intact.

Ponyboy: (laughing) Too late for that, Two-Bit.

Two-Bit: (mock offended) Hey, I resemble that remark!

Scene: The Dingo – Night

The gang is hanging out at The Dingo, drinking sodas and talking about their day. Two-Bit, of course, can’t resist making a joke.

Sodapop: (talking about work) This guy came in today and ordered the weirdest combo—pickles and peanut butter on toast.

Two-Bit: (grinning) Sounds like he’s got the taste buds of a pregnant woman.

Steve: (laughing) Or he’s just nuts.

Two-Bit: (smirking) Hey, maybe he’s onto something. I could start a new trend—call it “Two-Bit’s Totally Twisted Taste Test.”

Dally: ……. You’re twisted.

[jazeswhbhaven]

Zagan and Valefor bestest gym bros ever

would help you with the equipment and sets when you need em and can give you sound advice about how to reach your fitness goals

what i'd give to be squished between them good lord just one chance JUST ONE CHANCE

- 🦐

🦐!!! You and me are sharing brain cells because I'd want to be squished between them....however they feel like squishing me too.

Zagan and Valefor being the best physical trainers, they don't even mention nutrition because they feel you're doing fine with that, (even though Eligos would be screaming in the background about that) Towels on deck, water, private showers....locker rooms

If they were present I'd be going to the gym every damn day, trust I would be jacked if it meant spending more time with them

[fanaticsnail]

My take on Shameless Part 1:

Reader, finally being convinced to give up her type: I want a visible outline in the pants. I want "swinging between their knees" big. You know the minotaur? Picture that. Then picture someone that makes the minotaur feel inadequate. Then picture that someone looking at you like a crab to split open and suck the meat out of. Then picture me, as a crab-

The crew: (varying states of horror)

Reader: **** in my ******, tickling my diaphragm, upside down-

Law: (considering a lobotomy)

Reader: *** dripping from his teeth, ***** spread open, *****-

Ikkaku, to the Kid Pirates: look out! I think Moto Moto likes you!

Reader, "I like'em big, I like 'em chunky" playing in the background: Shachi did I ever tell you I invented and held the title of mechanical bull riding champion for four consecutive years on my home island?

Shachi, terrified: What's happening? Where is that music coming from?

Reader: but you know what they say, save a mechanical bull-

Shachi: Seriously, am I the only one hearing this?

Reader: hellooooo sailor-

Law: aht! Down girl.

Reader: What?! You don't get to-

Law: Do you want to be grounded for the next thirty days?

Reader: you're not my dad!-

Law: with the collective amount of brain cells you lot share between you? I might as well be.

Reader: He could be my-

Law: Room.

Reader: Wait! Please-

Law: Shambles

Reader, from below deck: Your galley can't hold me forever! I will chew my way through these bars!

Reader: Him. He's my type

Bepo, looking at the hulking unit of a man known for violence warily: ... In what way, exactly?

Reader: any way he'll have me. Although I do have a penchant for all fours.

Kid, noticing the talking: OI! You lot quit yer yappin'! What are you, a dog?

Reader: For you? I'd be happy drooling, leashed, and on all fours.

Kid: what?

Reader: Woof.

Reader, hoping to bypass all laws of the One Piece universe to directly beam "Rodeo" by Lah Pat into Kid's head if she stares at him hard enough:

Shachi, bolting upright in his bunk: it's fucking happening again.

Reader, singing to the tune of Beyonce's "ego" under their breath as they work: walk like this 'cause he knows how to fuck

Shachi: what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Luffy, humming along: Oh, you hear it too?

Shachi: (screams)

Okay, this was so ridiculous I had to make a mood board so I could visualise it. This is hilarious. This is exactly what my mind did when reading your ask, snail, and I am here for it.

I am dying at Shachi's reactions to the music. That's way too funny. Luffy singing? Cherry on top.

Meanwhile, Captain Law's live reaction to his unruly crewmember:

And coming in hot with the song recs!? Hell yeah!!

I don't know what got into me with that three-parter. Something about Kid just said: "You know that guy? That guy needs to be rizzed. He needs to be rizzed so bad. I'm gonna have this afab!reader rizz him the hardest he's ever been rizzed."

You're always here when I need you, sweet snail. Thank you so much. So ridiculously funny, and just what I needed before I go to sleep.

[barbiecrocs]

Bad Acting

Miguel O'Hara

Part 1 Part 2

tags! Actress x Businessman, masturbating(fem)

WC.1743

Barbies Note... I'm like the Boruto Manga the way I'm uploading once a month. Keep em waiting 😜😜😜 Anyway, not much to say but ENJOYYYYYYY

Bad News

You finally make it home after a painful morning meeting with your manager Lyla when you realize how much your back hurts. Setting your purse and jacket on the coat hanger by the door, you start feeling a buzzing sensation from your purse. Digging out the item you find that it’s your personal phone getting lit up by some unknown number. You press decline but they call again and send a text message before you can block them.

“I guess giving me the cold shoulder is the only way to get back at “him”, huh?”

You almost overlook the message, thinking it was some crazed fan who found your number until the gears in your head click. You kiss your teeth when you think of standing toe to toe with him in a heated verbal dispute that was most likely started by you out of sudden anger. “Fucker. How dare you?” You frown, muttering as you type those exact thoughts adding the question, “How did you get my number? I changed it like three times.” Onto the back. The reply you get is immediate. “I’m not supposed to say.” He says which is… ominous for sure but also a little out of character for him. Almost as if he weren't here to start an unnecessary argument with you or ruin the rest of your day. “We have better things to discuss. I have a favor to ask of you, but it’s the kind of thing that should be asked in person if you catch my drift.”

Hell. Nah. And that’s where you’ll leave it. In fact, you’ll wipe the pointless conversation from your memory.

You stare at your phone, the feeling of cringe almost overflowing as you read the text. No, you don’t catch his damn drift. His words don't answer any questions and only confuse you more after he drops a time and place for today before going radio silent.

. Seriously, the audacity of this man! To grab your personal number from where ever the fuck, or whoever the fuck, and contact you early in the morning like a close friend, knowing you are no longer that and hate his guts. Well, not his guts. More like his brother’s to be frank, but in your eyes they are basically the same person. Hell, Miguel is probably where Gabriel learned all his terrible behavior because why wouldn’t he take after his bigger brother? Anyway, despite knowing your distaste for the family, he still tried it? It truly makes you wonder if there's a brain up there, at least a working brain cell. Then he thinks that you’d meet up with him? That you’d do him a favor? Pshhhhh, a dream if he ever had one.

Setting the shower to your preferred temperature, you lock the door and shut the windows to prevent the steam from escaping. You set your phone face down on your bathroom’s pristine marble counter before getting ready to shower and laze around the house all day. Having already kicked off your shoes at the front door, you begin undressing. First, your socks, then leggings, next, your top and bra, and lastly your makeup. Drying your face, you close your eyes as a huge breath is sucked into your mouth and released in one big whoosh as a sigh. Almost all nerves are terminated except the last one that weighs on your mind, telling you this seems like a too-good-to-be-true dream.

But, even if it is, you won’t mind falling for it just this once because you rarely get a full day to yourself. Just think about all the things you can do. The thought makes a pleasurable shiver run up your spine, releasing a certain set of chemicals in your brain, and you refuse to deny what they want your body to do. Finally, the steam surrounds your body and it’s not long until you get caught up in the mood of things and start feeling another heartbeat between your legs. You step into the bathtub, with not only a small gratifying smile on your face but a different objective than what you originally came for. You let the water run down your body, watching it as it hits your chest as a whole before breaking up into multiple streams again. Some travel down the valley of your breast while others go haywire with all types of twists and turns after running down your boobs, ribcage, and curves of your midsection. Once you’re warm, you begin getting into position, knees to your chest, under the bathtub faucet switching the water from the shower head to the nozzle below.

The water wastes no time making its way to your clit making you gasp from the suddenness even though you should’ve been prepared since its release was in your hands. Nevertheless, this miniscule experience doesn’t dull the tender leg-shaking feeling the water gives you. The pressure, the warmth, the wetness, it’s everything as you let the water beat up on your clit in the best way possible. A hand sneaks around your butt, gently feeling around as to not break emersion before sliding your fingers into your pussy, but they don’t do much considering the lack of length on them. But you still crave a little more stimulation even going as far as pulling the hood on your clit back a bit before feeling your orgasm come on too quick for your liking. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and you will savor and drag it out for as long as you can. Trying to get more than 24 hours out of the 24 hours the day has given you. Plus, everything feels better when you have to wait for it, just like this day. Just like your orgasm, but it doesn’t hit you as it usually would. There’s a build-up to it that explodes with pleasure in the middle but also plateaus at the highest peak before gradually coming down with half-lidded eyes and a brain that buzzes oh so sweetly with every thought. You push away from the faucet and lay there until you can get a hold of your bearings, letting out a big sigh before rising to your feet to continue where you left off.

You feel excited as you step out of the shower and into your robe and slippers, only to realize that you finally have the opportunity to go through your whole skin and body care routine. The thought brings not only a smile to your face but also motivation to shave your whole body neck to toe. Another shiver skips down your spine but this time it was one of joy. Oh, how ecstatic you were for something so minuscule in others eyes. Mental Health Days with a sprinkle of body care have been one of your favorite things in the world ever since breaking up with your toxic ex. Your mind begins to drift into the past but you quickly stop yourself, only preaching to look forward in life, never back.

In the midst of jamming to your music and putting on your gel face mask you get a call. At first, you roll your eyes thinking it was Miguel again until you remember that you blocked his ass immediately after the interaction y’all had. You pat various places on your counter until looking down and see your phone missing, not having time to look for it, you tell Alexa to answer it for you.

“Hello-” Before you can get a whole sentence out a loud voice overcomes yours, “Finally the little diva picks up the phone. I’ve been calling you for the past 20 minutes. Do you have any idea how much my phone bill is gonna be?”

“You can’t blame that on me. You know, most people would stop calling after the third one and say, “Hm, it looks like she’s busy right now. I guess I’ll call later.” And go on about their day waiting for either a callback or a reasonable time to call again.” You huff, half frustrated that you can’t find your phone and half frustrated that Lyla interrupted your Mental Health day. Unbeknownst to you, Lyla retorts something but as said, it goes over your head as you search your house room to room, upside and down, and inside and out. In defeat, you stalk back into your bathroom, head down only to see your phone on the floor behind the toilet. You can feel your eye twitch before a reasonable roar rips through you and Lyla goes silent on the other side. It seems as if you’ve broken her train of thought because she begins talking about what she truly called you for. Which would seem like a relief for you, but in reality it’s not.

Anyhow, you put your phone down and begin the second half of your skincare, body care.

“Anyway, I noticed that your schedule seemed too empty today, so I did you a favor and-” Before she finishes her thought, you cut her off. 

“NO!” You yell and everything goes quiet. Her breath hitches on the other side and you continue your thought after realizing she isn’t going to chip in. “My schedule is very much full today with me, myself, and I. No room for anything else today, sorry.” You say and right before you can hang up she manages to get a word in. “Oh, come on! You act like I filled up your schedule. I only booked one thing, which you would’ve known if you paid attention to your phone because I sent it to you! Plus you should drop the 'tude! Everything I do is for you and your success. I mean that as a friend and your manager.” Your shoulders sag seeing how right she is when you turn on your phone only to see ten missed calls and desperate texts. “Ugh, what is it even about?” Dread oozing from your voice.

“Read the calendar I sent you.”

“When is it?” You push for an answer which you still don’t get.

“Read the calendar I sent you!”

“Where is it?” You push once more, tipping her over the edge.

“READ THE CALENDAR- UGH YOU KNOW WHAT? I ALREADY KNOW YOU’RE DOING THIS TO GET ON MY NERVES, BYE GIRL.” She hangs up in your face and you silently chuckle to yourself, "Payback." You mutter. Opening up your text messages you see that she sent you one last text after the call.

'Hm, it's a link.' You think as you hesitate to tap, praying that this isn't another meeting.

Your thumb finally makes contact with the screen and a dark bubble in your stomach pops with relief. Well, half relief because it isn't another meeting, but a date?

MYSTERY MAN!! (Information below)

-DRESS FORMAL

-NO MONEY NEEDED (All expenses paid)

-FOOD AND ALCOHOL SERVED

-WEAR GOLD CLOTHING AND JEWELRY OR CLOSE TO IT

-THE DATE SHOULD LAST FROM 8:00PM TO AS LATE AS 12AM

-MOST IMPORTANTLY, HAVE FUN

-LYLA WILL BE IN THE ROOM TO ENSURE NO ONE GETS HANDSY yet ;)

XOXO, Your manager.

Knowing that you most likely won't be able to control whatever happens next, you pour yourself a moderate glass of red wine, turn on your favorite show, and kick back on your sofa to enjoy the rest of your mental health day before getting back up again.

Barbies Note... Two Barbie Notes in this chapter?🤨🤨🤨 Yes. Anyway I just wanted to say that this chapter was a bit of a snooze fest, ik ik but the next chapter should be more interesting with some lore dropping😼