#The Good the Bad and the Goddamn Outrageous

[crazylittlejester]

this is going to sound unhinged but. wild would be obsessed with Burger, theres so many options for Burger he would have pretentious opinions like a grill dad over the best Burger. he would have carefully documented notes on a deditcated journal about Burger. i think in his era he should invent the Burger.

they invented pizza so anything is possible

LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY

okay but imagine him trying to create the perfect cheese to go with his new invention The Burger. imaging him traveling high and low, throwing bad burgers in outrage with tears in his eyes when he can’t figure out the right cheese to go with it. imagine him inventing condiments SPECIFICALLY for Burger just to later realize “oh hey, you can just put this shit on other stuff??” imagine people observing the poor distressed hero of hyrule throw himself down a small hill with a wail because its been weeks and he still hasn’t made the perfect Burger. like he’s made them GOOD but he KNOWS they can be better, and imagine him continuing to experiment with the chain and he makes them all slightly different burgers and monitors them all closely to see who likes theirs best (Warriors and Legend are CONVINCED Wild is watching them eat so closely because he’s trying to kill them, Twilight no longer gives a fuck if Wild is trying to kill him because he’s eating the best goddamn Burger he’s ever had in his life and he’s about to beg Wild to invent fries and coke or dr pepper to go along with it)

Zelda: hey Link are you um. are you gonna come get me? or…

Wild: not now pookie, i’m making culinary breakthroughs

[red-dead-reloaded]

John Marston's Wild West Comedy Tour

Our main gig: Chapter 1: The PLAN

And our side hustle: Shootin' Down the Fourth Wall

THE TRUE STORY:

It starts off with a conversation around the campfire after a botched robbery. John's telling the tale to pass the time, and I hit him with:

"Hey, you've got material there!" He blinks a few times, because he never thought about it that way. But he has a think about it...

"Damn, you're right!" So we leave the gang, shit's going south, anyway, but John can't swim, which doesn't leave us with much room.

The road's long, the law's tight - we're looking for something better. No more robbing trains - we're robbing people of their SERIOUS faces and selling them some good old laughter. THE COMEDY TOUR BEGINS! The name of our act: The Good, the Bad, and the Goddamn Outrageous

First stop? We head out West, hitting up the towns that have never seen a comedy show in their life. We don't just show up with jokes, we rob 'em blind (of their funny bones).

We start performing anywhere where there's a crowd - saloons, campsites - folks out here want a good laugh as much as they want a good shootout. But the road to Vegas ain't easy. We get ourselves into some WILD shit along the way.

We run into Arthur Morgan who's decided to strike it out on his own too. He begrudgingly joins us as the third wheel. We keep him JUST grumpy enough to get him to pull out his best one-liners.

FINALLY - VEGAS! Yeah, baby!

By now, we've made it big. The competition is stiff, the eyes of the world are on us. We're used to people wanting to take us down, but by now, we're feeling pretty untouchable. On the night of our big performance, we're having a blast, the audience is laughing so much they could bust a steam engine.

BUT good old Edgar Ross comes along and derails all the fun - trust that man to rain on John's rodeo. He wouldn't know a good joke if it shot him in the face. Problem is, as much as we've been making a name for ourselves as comedians, we've also drawn the attention of the law. HOW ARE WE GONNA GET OURSELVES OUTTA THIS ONE, JOHNNY BOY? John Marston and Arthur Morgan team up to give Ross the public ROASTING OF A LIFETIME. You gonna pull a slick one about John's mama being a prostitute? Be prepared to become ROAST PORK, my villanous bro. Comedic vengeance, retribution of the sweetest kind, is within our grasp. The crowd's going to remember the day they witnessed this epic lampooning from the two greatest outlaw-turned-comedians this side of the Mississippi!

Ross won't be able to hold a candle to Arthur and John, and when it's all said and done? They walk off the stage like the kings of comedy they were meant to be.

Ross will forever rue the day he thought he could punch down on poor John about his mama. The three of us? We'll be Legends of the West. Not for our robberies, not for our wanted posters - but for bringing down the goddamn house with every line.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Seventeen with a partner who is insecure about their body

Genre: equal parts angst and fluff, suggestive content (MDNI)

A/N: vaguely written so this is friendly for any insecurity. Be kind to yourselves please. You deserve love. 🖤

Won’t hear a word of it - Seungcheol, Hoshi, Mingyu, Seungkwan

A little bit aggressive in how intensely he disagrees with you. He’s so obsessed with you and now he’s set on proving why. He might even call you crazy and stand you in front of a mirror. He’ll squish your face and make you look him in the eye through the mirror so you can see how serious he is while he tells you in great detail all the things he loves about you. The details might fluster you because of how explicit it is sometimes, but it does wash away a bit of the insecurity if only because you can tell how much he means it. For good measure, he’ll make a point to physically prove it, in and out of the bedroom. His goal is to have you feeling like you’re the hottest person on the planet because that’s exactly what he thinks of you. He’ll just keep trying until you finally get it. In quiet moments though, he will remember to tell you all the other non-physical things he loves about you. Prepare for compliment overload because he’s determined to get you to accept them from now on.

Will be so gentle about it - Jeonghan, Joshua, Wonwoo, The8, Dino

Very soft and maybe even a bit emotional about the fact that you’re willing to be vulnerable and admit this to him. He really wants to understand why you feel the way that you do - have you always felt this way, did someone say something mean to you about it, how do you usually deal with this insecurity. Then when the one-sided game of 20 questions is over, he’ll be smothering you with affection and making sure his stance is clear. He’ll let you disagree, but he’ll be steadfast in insisting that you’re the most attractive person he’s ever met. In the coming days and weeks, there will be subtle things that let you know he’s trying to help you feel better about yourself and lift your spirits. Gentle offers to go shopping for clothes that you like, or take a walk to get some fresh air and move your body, or try new makeup - whatever your concern is, it doesn’t matter because he’ll find a solution for it. He’s absolutely not trying to change you, would never dream of it, he just desperately wants you to be comfortable in your own skin and will bend over backwards to help you find tools to do that with.

Feels like a bad boyfriend - Jun, Woozi, DK, Vernon

Where as the first group responds with outrage and the second responds softly, this group would respond with a little bit of devastation. Does he not tell you how much he loves and adores you every goddamn day? Does he need to say it louder?? Does he need to worship the ground you walk on more obviously??? Okay, he will, but not before retreating a little bit to reflect. He feels guilty that maybe he’s contributed to this insecurity unknowingly and replays every conversation you’ve had for the entirety of your relationship so far. In the days after that conversation, he’s touchier and ten times more adoring. He lays it on a little thick on purpose. It’s you who will have to squish his face and say ‘Okay, I get it’ when he’s telling you how pretty and cute and beautiful and hot you are for the thousandth time during dinner when you’d love to talk about anything else. But he doesn’t believe it because your face when you admitted your insecurities is seared into his mind and he won’t be forgetting this anytime soon. Just get used to the new norm which is them being your biggest and loudest cheerleader.

[chvoswxtch]

what are your husband!frank headcanons because I love that grumpy man? 🤍

oh my darling sweet nonnie

I think about husband!frankie a lot and I have so many thots about this lets get into it

being married to frank castle

i've said this before and i'll say it again: frank is a hopeless romantic and no one can change my mind

he is a SUCKER for his spouse like literally would do anything they wanted

you wanna paint the kitchen barbie pink? sure baby, let me pick up some some paint

your bookshelf is full? hang on honey, i'll build you another

you had a bad day? where does your boss live *cocks gun*

frank is obsessed with his spouse like literally thinks they hung the moon and all the stars in the goddamn sky

I feel like after losing maria and the kids, when he gets another chance to be a husband, he's all in

he helps cook dinner, or even tells you he'll handle it for the night so that you can relax

he'll run you a nice hot bubble bath and light some candles if you had a stressful day

anything you pick up in the store and put back, he secretly sneaks into the cart

he listens to you vent, bc frank is a very good listener, and offers advice when he can

he surprises you with lunch dates, sends flowers to your job just to let you know he was thinking about you, calls you even if he's only going to be 5 minutes late coming home

he's very protective of you when you're out in public and doesn't let you out of his sight or let anyone get too close for comfort

frank doesn't talk a whole lot, but when he speaks, it's from the heart

he doesn't do grand outrageous gestures to show you he loves you but it is obvious in all the little things he does bc I genuinely believe his love language is acts of service and physical touch

he's SO proud to be your husband like anytime you introduce him to anyone or mention "my husband this" or "my husband that" he's got the biggest grin on his face

to say he would die for you is such a huge understatement, francis david castiglione would wage war on god herself for you

bottom line is husband!frank is a huge sap and even if he acts grumpy that you want to paint the kitchen pink or your car broke down bc you forgot to tell him you needed your oil changed (it happens to the best of us) he is so madly in love with you that you could do no wrong in his eyes

[sir-kettle-of-countertop]

So, I saw a post circulating here about the “extinction of birds in 2023“, with this picture attached

My, what a bold claim! All these poor birdies, “went extinct” in just one year alone? Why would such an outrageous, depressing and catchy claim be spread around? Let’s fact check it.

All the species listed, Bachman’s wabler (Vermivora bachmanii, 1988 or 1980s), Kāmaʻo or large Kauaʻi thrush (Myadestes myadestinus, 1989 or 1987), Bridled white-eye (Zosterops conspicillatus, 1983 and 1983), Kauai ʻakialoa (Akialoa stejnegeri, 1969 or 1960s), Kauaʻi ʻōʻō (Moho braccatus, 1987 and 1987), Kauaʻi nukupuʻu (Hemignathus hanapepe, 1899 and 1899), Maui ʻakepa (Loxops ochraceus, 1988 and 1988), Kākāwahie or Molokaʻi creeper (Paroreomyza flammea, 1963 and 1963), Maui nukupuʻu (Hemignathus affinis, 1896* and 1996 ) and Poʻouli (Melamprosops phaeosoma, 2004 and 2004) are all, indeed, either extinct or possibly extinct, according to IUCN Red List of Threatened Species and U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

What are the dates after the scientific names? Well, those all are *last sightings* per IUCN Red List and USFWS accordingly. So, these birds were not seen for DECADES and in one case FOR MORE THAN A GODDAMN CENTURY. And sure as hell there is NO information about them very suddenly being gone all last year.

What’s the deal then? Where did this claim even come from? Well, likely from this article "21 Species Delisted from the Endangered Species Act due to Extinction" from U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service. It includes all the birds in the picture (with the last date of sight, listed above).

From the article: “The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is delisting 21 species from the Endangered Species Act due to extinction. Based on rigorous reviews of the best available science for each of these species, the Service determined these species are extinct and should be removed from the list of species protected under the ESA. Most of these species were listed under the ESA in the 1970s and 80s and were in very low numbers or likely already extinct at the time of listing.”

They didn’t ALL fucking suddenly drop dead all in the same year – if they did, as some other people have already pointed out, there would be an uproar EVERYWHERE. Ornithologists alone would not let it live down. They were officially delisted from endangered status by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service that year, there was a proposition to do so back in 2021, too. Some were already declared extinct before by IUCN.

Despite not being seen for so long, they remained on the list of critically endangered for a long while, cause you cannot just immediately declare a species extinct. There’s no RTS unit amount number that goes to 0 once there’s nothing left; people keep checking for them over and over and over again. Sometimes it turns out that a species previously thought to be extinct is actually still out there. Attenborough's long-beaked echidna for example was last sighted SIXTY YEARS ago before being sighted again in 2023. It was thought to be extinct for a while, before 2007, when signs of its activity was spotted again. More often than not though, a species turns out to be actually very extinct, unfortunately – like in this case. I cannot possibly know if the creators of this picture, or people that spread it on social media ever had good intentions behind it for awareness, however even if they did, it turned out to be nothing but very blatant misinformation, with a fearmongering effect. The only thing this achieves is not awareness of habitat destruction or pernicious tourist influence or climate change or what have you – the only thing this achieves is despair and panic. People already so casually fall into complete doomerism, they’re very used to hear bad news. And guess what doomerists do? Typically nothing. It renders people helpless. It’s not gonna make people get up and be ready for action, it, at best, would just make people feel sad and/or angry, or at worst, feed into the current alarming rise of ecofascism. NOTHING good comes out of this. At the very goddamn least, no one needs to lie to promote a goal.

The aim of the USFWS article, on the other hand, IS to make people aware about those animals that are already gone from the face of the planet, no matter how long ago, and that now we have to protect those animals that are critically endangered and still out there – to not have to repeat those tragedies.

Be very critical of what you see on the internet, especially if it’s sited with no sources. Especially-especially if it causes a strong emotional reaction. Lies and misinfo could only hurt the cause, no matter how noble. And please, be aware of your local wildlife status. Check in with it accoding to trusted sources.

[*sic, possibly a typo and it was meant to be 1996, other confirmed date listed there is 1989] Addendum: I could not for sure find the uncredided (who woulda thunken that ppl that don't cite their sources would also not credit the artists) author(s) of the bird illustrations. If someone finds them, please, let me know! Edit: Huge thanks to moosefinch for finding the sources for the artwork! I'll add their contribution below:

"Image sources!

The Kauai ʻakialoa, Kauaʻi ʻōʻō, Maui ʻakepa and Kauaʻi nukupuʻu are from Birds of the World.

The "Maui nukupuʻu" and "Molokaʻi creeper" illustrations are also Birds of the World, but are actually a female Kauaʻi nukupuʻu (the other being the male) and Laysan honeycreeper/Laysan ʻapapane respectively.

The bridled white-eye is by Lauren Helton according to this source.

Bachman's warbler is by Lynn Hawkinson Smith/smithhouse2 according to this Etsy listing.

The Poʻouli is by Christina Czajkowski."

[hxneyfarm]

the charming of steve goddamned harrington, as told by jeff

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt: ‘charm’ | wc: 548 | rated: g | cw: none, outsider pov

to say that jeff has known eddie all their lives would not be an exaggeration or an overstatement. one of jeff's earliest memories is his fifth birthday party- a cookout with his parents and his sister and the boy who lived in the house across the street.

he didn't even know eddie's name at the time, he just remembers the way the boy, a year or two older than himself, had pressed a finger to his mouth in a shh kind of gesture as he tore off chunks of his blackened hot dog to feed to the ancient yellow lab curled up under the picnic table in the back yard.

and now, more than a decade later, jeff is still watching in awe as eddie quietly slips treats to the object of his affection. except this time the treats aren't blackened hot dog bits- they're smiles. and the object of eddie's affection isn't a geriatric yellow labrador anymore- it's ex king of hawkins high steve goddamned harrington.

and the thing is... steve is reciprocating. he's smiling back, his face a little pink at the edges. he's laughing at all of eddie's bad jokes- actually laughing, too, like he’s charmed by him

these two idiots are gone on each other, and jeff doesn't even think they realize it. they definitely don't realize whatever feelings they're nursing are being reciprocated; if they did jeff's sure he would have heard about it before now. he and eddie don't hide things from each other and they never really have.

whatever this is, it must be new. maybe they're sneaking around together, getting their bearings before telling their friends. maybe they're both just crushing and skirting around the elephant in the room. jeff sincerely hopes it's the former; he's not sure how much moping and pining he can take from eddie before he's just gonna have to snap and lock them in a closet together until they come strolling out covered in hickeys.

gareth and grant are noticing the tension between eddie and steve tonight too. grant's good at subtlety, but gareth wears his suspicion in the hard set to his mouth and the crease between his brows. after what happened with jason during spring break, gareth's hackles are up around anyone that's not one of theirs, and with good reason. steve, though... jeff's got an inkling that steve might be more like them than he lets on.

so maybe steve is more of a blondie guy than a black sabbath guy. so what? eddie will see to that soon enough. jeff is absolutely certain of it.

jeff has known eddie all his life. this tension with steve is absolutely going to snap eventually, and jeff cannot wait to tell his best friend that he's seen it coming. he can't wait to tease him for all these lovesick gazes and those lingering touches and the bad jokes and the absolutely outrageous nicknames (big boy, ed? c'mon, man.).

until then, jeff is so content to just watch this unfold. he's taking notes. maybe someday, when the world gets its shit together, he can stand up as eddie's best man and rib him about this in front of all their family and friends.

eddie deserves that almost as much as he deserves steve goddamned harrington.

[44-mr-midnight-44]

"(FUCK YOU YOU AQUAMARINE ANGRY LITTLE SHIT!)"

Atop the tall podium, rinsed in an iridescent, golden hue, a celestial rim washing down each corner; trimmed by a dusty silver, shivering with a pearly shine.

"[WHAT DID I DO, HUH? EXACTLY WHAT? DID I STAND WRONG? DID MY EYESIGHT MAKE YOU JEALOUS? AM I OFFENDING YOU WITH MY ABILITY TO SHUT UP?]"

The audience, cornered in the nooks of their seats, twitched and bowed at the rancorous uproar.

"(WELL IIIIIII'M SORRY, I HAD TO CARRY US ALLLLLL THE WAY HERE, YOU GODDAMN CUCK!)"

"Guys…" A well-heighted man, head the shape and hue of a noble planet. "You both won, you don't have to–"

"[WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'CARRY', YOU TURKEY-BRAINED BODY ODOUR-FRAGRANTED PURPLE MASS OF DEPRESSED RODENTS?]" Mind tightly roared from the crease of his lips, whipping his brand new sun trophy onto the podium; a hard, metallic clatter snapping into the flooring. "[IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME, WE WOULDN'T EVEN HAVE INFORMATION OUT THERE ABOUT OUR RIGHTS TO THIS SEAT!]"

"(ARE YOU KIDDING? EVERY CHONNY JASH FAN LOVES ME! I'VE GOT FUCKING APOLOGISTS! YOU'VE GOT PEOPLE WHO FRAME YOU AS THE NARRATIVE'S VILLAIN 'COS YOU SUCK THAT BAD!)"

"[YEAH, AND WHO WAS THE ONE WHO SET UP YOUR KEYBOARDS? AND TRANSLATED SHEET MUSIC INTO SOMETHING YOUR SORRY ASS COULD UNDERSTAND? AND–]"

"(SHUT–)"

"[AND FIGURED OUT HOW TO SET UP YOUR STUPID FUCKING AIR-CONDITIONER, BECAUSE–]"

"(I PAY FOR YOUR PAINKILLER PRESCRIPTION!)"

"['(OHHHHH, I CAN'T FOCUS IN THE HEAT! BUT I WEAR BAGGY HOODIES AND TWO-LAYERED PYJAMAS AND)–']"

"(AT LEAST I DON'T EAT MY GOLDFISHES!)"

"[AT LEAST I DON'T PLAY FNAF SONGS ON THE PIANO AT FOUR IN THE GODDAMN MORNING!]"

"(I WROTE THE BEST SONGS FOR OUR ALBUM! WITHOUT ME, OUR STORY OF HOW WE SUFFERED (MOSTLY BECAUSE OF YOU) WOULD'VE NEVER BEEN KNOWN!)"

"[NAME ONE PERSON WHO USES GOOD DAY AS AUDIO!]"

Words torn from mouth and crashing into each timorous ear surrounding the two, pronounced in a very ired, Australian tongue.

Arms furiously stretched and swung and feet stamped to enunciate visible outrage.

"Yeesh, Moon… I always thought our relationship was bad, but it seems like sun and moons across the universe can get so much worse…" Sun shivered, a quick tug on his coarse yet metallic collar, punctuated by a swift glance to his lunar counterpart. "Over where we're from, we have to deal with living in a giant animatronic mall and occasionally the works of cross-dimensional madness. But over there, it seems to me they really need to learn a lesson about getting along!"

"I could take them in a fight with a small dresser tied to my dominant hand." Moon stared, unblinking, body as stiff as a long rock.

The other contestants watched as the words were rocked and tossed in a staggering hatred.

At one point, Heart's wings had enlarged to mimic that of a threatened bird inflating its stance to appear larger; Mind's chest hummed with the overwork of his fans.

Suns and moons from all sorts of solar systems stationed across the multiverse watched in horror.

Two of them were those guys from Nimona, but I don't know dick about shit about Nimona so you gotta use your imagination for that one.

"Right right, you two have your trophy, just…" The celestial staff member disarmingly motioned their hands, gazing down at the two halves. "What are you going to do with your prize money?"

"(Oh, I'm probably gonna use it on an invasive wildflower and a seven hundred AUD life-sized Lopunny plush.)"

"[To pay off my severe prescription zolmitriptan debt that I'm four months behind on because I spent half my yearly salary on a car that I ended up crashing because of a migraine.]"

Happy tiny niche fandom winning against FNaF and Nimona for all who celebrate

Reblogs > Likes

[gloxk]

“Mary Jane.”

Gojo satoru ~

Summary: Your best friend was a snake. She slept with your boyfriend at a party. Everything shattered when you saw them. Your heart broke, leaving you with hatered and resentment. But two can play that game. Didn't she know? Karma’s a bitch.

W/C : 2k+. READING TIME: 10 minutes.

Setting: Modern Au, Reader is in their 20’s.

Song inspo:The best I ever had (Limi)/ Birthday S*X (Jeremih)/Drunk in love (The weekends version)/What you need(the weekend.)

A/N: Happy kinktober. It’s been a minute. (I've returned just for this years kinktober) idk i’ve just been busy fr. I haven’t been writing at all 😭. But I was on tik tok right, and i saw this lil video abt a story. So yall know those reddit stories? Bro this story was fucking outrageous, i tell ya. So boom bro got cheated on by his gf and she slept w his best friend. I was like damnnnnn 💀 ain’t no way. So bro turned around n fcked his ex best friends sister. The crazy thing is HE RECORDED IT. AND HE SENT IT TO BRO. I got carried away w this one. (I was high asf.) But anyway please enjoy! My grammar might be fucked up i didn’t feel like prof reading. Mdni/ageless blogs you will be blocked. 17+.

Warnings: F/M relations,Jealousy, angst if you squint, friend dumping, lewd behavior, DRUGS & alcohol. (mary J) mentions of Ex, BJ’s, Male receiving, unprotected sex (I got a little nasty w this one)

————————————————

You sat there disappointed in your dry phone. It was like looking at a blank screen. The night was cold, dark, and quiet. Everything was different now that you cut off your toxic-ass best friend. Deleting all the pictures and videos of you two. All the happiness and laughter y’all had shared just for it to be ruined in a few hours. The incident only happened a few days ago.

You decide to scroll through your alt account’s Instagram feed hoping to see something interesting. Something interesting indeed popped up. A little green circle around your ex-best friend’s profile picture. “Curiosity killed the cat ya’know?”, It surely killed you as soon as you clicked it. She was with your Ex. Your face scrunched in disbelief. You couldn’t help but muster up a pitiful laugh. What was going through her goddamn mind? Did she know the alt belong to you? Was the random pinterest boy profile picture not convincing enough? You nearly tossed your phone to the ground you felt tears bubbling up in your eyes. You remember the whole thing like it was yesterday. The horrible things you said to each other. But one thing she said in particular stuck in your head. “You aren’t even together anymore! Why the fuck do you care Y/n?”, Those were the last words she said to you, the last words you needed to hear to leave her alone. It hurt you so much, the girl you known from middle school betrayed you.

It was late maybe around 11 pm. Your mind was filled with anger. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You told her everything and she did the same. You two grew up together. When you introduced your boyfriend and best friend they hit it off. They were so cool with each other that it seemed like a dream come true. Having your best friend actually like your boyfriend was extremely rare to come by. Your dream came short-lived after you found them fucking in a bathroom at a party. It hurt so fucking bad. You clenched your shirt trying not to cry. That night broke you, you lost everything in 4 hours. All it took was a couple of shots and one blunt to have your whole world crash. In a fit of rage, you decided to go through her entire Instagram feed. Scrolling through every single post. In a recent post from earlier today, you saw a dump of her stepbrother. All of the pictures were silly, cute pictures of him. You couldn’t lie, he was fine as fuck. You saw her stepbrother a couple of times when y'all were younger, but god did puberty hit him good. He was tall and muscular with a sharp jawline. He has white hair and beautiful ocean-colored eyes. He had a couple of arm tattoos as well. You sat there trying to remember his name. You looked over the caption trying to find something leading to him, the caption read: “HAPPY 19th BIRTHDAY @satoruxgxjo! I hope 19 treats you good lil, bro :).” That was his name! You finally remembered him. Satoru gojo, it was definitely moan-able. You DM’D him almost immediately.

(Y/n): “Hey! I saw your birthday was earlier and I wanted to wish you a happy 19th birthday!” You didn’t know what you expected him to say back to that. You didn’t know if you wanted him to immediately block you or text you back. Maybe if he blocked you would be able to move on and heal. But all you wanted was revenge. After two minutes you got a notification from Instagram. (satoruxgxjo): “Yo, I appreciate it. it’s been a minute. How have you been?” A smug smile arose on your face. You instantly texted him back. (Y/n): “I’ve been amazing. Recently I had just got some za from a friend and since it’s your birthday maybe we can roll up?” You watch as your text goes from Sent to Seen. Your heart immediately went faster.(satoruxgxjo): “Lmao? That was quick but sure. I don’t mind. Addy?” Your face was sinister. If he could see your face right here probably think twice about his current decision. You sent him your location, (Y/n): “I mean it’s not like we don’t know each other Saturo, just pull up :) We can catch up!”, You were so happy that this was gonna work out perfectly. (satoruxgxjo): “Who is Saturo? It’s Satoru* n I’m otw.” That happiness quickly faded into embarrassment. How could you forget his name already? You repeated it 10x to remember it, while repeating his name you quickly got up and rushed upstairs.

You dressed yourself in a loose shirt that hung off your shoulders, your chest was the only thing holding it up. Underneath you made sure to treat your guests to an easy reveal no bra and pink Victoria's Secret lace panties. Your hair was messy letting little strands of hair frame your face. You rushed downstairs to set everything up, you grabbed an open bottle of Hennessy and accompanied it with a jar of bud including a pack of Raw’s. Everything was set for the most part. You dimmed the lights and played some sensual music. You turned your TV on to some random Netflix show to make it seem casual. You soon turned your attention to the door as the doorbell rang. A wicked smile placed on your face, your hips swaying to the music. You opened the door and smiled at your victim—I mean visitor. “Heyy~.” Your voice filled with a welcoming tone. Luring him in like a fisherman. “Hey, Y/n.” He had a basic white shirt on, and his muscular body filled it out nicely. His lower half was hidden behind grey sweatpants, He had on white cross that were no longer white. His tall frame continued to tower over you. He sounded so nonchalant, but his blue eyes told a different story. He couldn’t stop looking at your bare shoulders. “Come in hun.” You moved out of his way and motioned him to the couch. The table caught his attention immediately. You made your way to the kitchen swaying to the beat of the music. “Henny? Whatcha got this for?” He picked up the bottle with an eager smile. “Why else Satoru?” You winked at him. Watching him open the bottle and pour himself a shot. “Well, Hopefully, it’s not for little ole me. God, you wouldn’t make such a silly mistake and give an underage boy Hennessy? Right?” He asked mocking you. A smug expression on his face. You couldn’t wait to wipe it off. “Oh of course not! I would never do such a disgraceful thing. But..I won’t tell if you won’t.” He threw his head back and he gulped down the shot of liquor. The burning sensation only made him crave it more. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.” He chuckled as he watched you sit down on the couch. He soon followed you and plopped down beside you. “You ever rolled before?” You looked at him as you picked up the grinder. “Nah, I’m more of a pipe or hookah person. Ya’know?” You giggled at him. He was falling into your trap without even knowing. “Lemme show you how to roll then.”. You took him through the basic steps. Letting your hands guide his. After a few attempts, he was able to get a good enough roll for a beginner. “And now ya gotta lick it.” You bent over his lap using his muscular arm to hold yourself up. You dragged your tongue over the paper making sure to seal it. You took the joint from him and began to light it. His eyes watched you dangerously. After a couple of pulls, you handed it back over to him. He pulled a heavy hit making him cough. You poured another shot for the both of you. Handing him a glass of liquor. “Oh? Is that for me? How kind.” Your hand sat between his thighs. “Of course.” He took the glass and knocked it back, and you followed his lead.

You weren’t slightly drunk nor were you high. But you couldn’t say the same for Satoru. He almost finished your bottle of Hennessy. His head was between your neck and shoulder. He was mumbling incoherent nonsense, you didn’t particularly care what he was babbling about. He was lying between your legs using your chest to keep him propped up. His hands rubbing your thigh, “Mm..please.” He mumbled desperately. “I told you not to drink too much Gojo. Now look at you.” You laughed as you rubbed his head. “.. I know. m’ sorry. Please y/n. Please.” You were confused you didn’t know what he was asking for to be quite frank. “You should get an Uber to take you home.” You nudged him to get off of you. He didn’t budge at all. His eyes looked up at you pleading with you. “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay with you. lemme stay.” He was so whiny while he was drunk it was pissing you off. “Okay, you can stay.” He hummed softly in response. “upstairs?” You whispered in his ear, he nodded his head. You moved off the couch pulling him off with you. You walked him up the stairs to your bedroom. He was stumbling up the stairs you had to hold him up. Making it to your room in one piece was the hardest part. Opening the door his hands never left your body, If anything they became more needy. His fingers roamed around your back as he began to tug at your shirt.

You grabbed his hands telling him to stop. “I don’t know...if we should do this...I’m sure your sister wouldn’t like this.” You smiled as you pushed him on the bed. Of course, she wouldn’t like her brother sleeping with her ex-best friend. But that made it more exhilarating. Satoru groaned at your words. Bringing up what you and his sister had going on at a time like this was a low blow. “Don’t fuck with me Y/n. You’ve been touching me all night. Saying little shit to me. I’m ready now, and you’re gonna act like this?” You heard the frustration in his voice, looking down at his gray sweats pants you saw what else was frustrated. You laughed at him. “Oh look who’s mad at me. I’m just trying to respect you and your sister's relationship.” Your hands go under his shirt and rub his abs. He laughed as his arm covered his face. “Ah, so I understand why she called you a conniving bitch now.” Your smug face was quickly wiped with confusion. “Oh…Yeah? She gonna think I’m more than conniving after this.” You grabbed him by his hair pulling him closer. Your lips clashed against his, you could taste the intoxication on his tongue. The kiss became sloppy fairly quickly. His hands continued to roam over your back. He followed your lead not allowing your mouth to leave his. He yanked at your shirt, he wanted to pull it off of you. Sitting on his lap, you took off your shirt and tossed it to the side. His hands went up to cup your breasts. His fingers ran over your hardened nipples, his expression was darkened with lust. “So fckin pretty.” He sat up leaving kisses on your neck and chest. You assisted him in taking off his shirt and tossed it over to yours. Leaving kisses on his neck and slowly moving downward to his chest. Taking your precious time with him. He was so impatient, whining if you didn’t kiss him. You used your finger to trace his v-line teasing him enough to push him. You got up and slowly removed his sweatpants leaving him in his tight boxers. Licking your lips at the sight, it was a delectable sight indeed. Tracing the bulging print through his Ethikas. “Oh my god…” You stuttered in disbelief, this man was packing. Satoru felt you tugging his boxers, he lifted his hips and allowed you to yank them off of him. The cold air hit him drawing out a long sigh. Those blue eyes watching you with a dangerous glint, those eyes screaming out for you. “don’t play with me Y/n.” He whispered, almost as if he was begging you to make him feel something. You seated yourself between his thighs, looking at him with awe. Your hands running up and down his hardened dick. You gave him kitten licks on his tip, licking away any pre-cum. He growled at the teasing, “C'mon.” his hand caressingyour cheeks. You smiled as you quickly put your mouth around the tip and bobbed your head up and down.

His tip hits the back of your throat every time. Satoru’s hand pushed your head down so he could feel you deep-throat him, “Fuuucckk, just like that.” You pulled your head back with an angry expression. “Nobody likes a head pusher.”, You glared at him. “Nobody likes a fucking teaser.” He mumbled. You laughed at his audacity as if he was the one in control. You slipped off your underwear and climbed on top of him. Letting him slide in slowly, inch by inch. You threw your head backward, rolling your neck. Low moans escaped your mouth as you felt his hips grinning against yours. “Go faster.” His tone completely shifted from whiny and desperate to frustration. He wanted more, He needed more. It wasn’t enough for him. You looked so pretty going up and down on him. His eyes watched your body lift itself off of him and right back down. Your nails dug holes in his chest, “That fuckin’ hurts Y/n.” He gave you a sadistic smile as he dug his nails into your hips. You shrieked in pain. You could quite literally feel his nails penetrate your skin. That didn’t stop you though, you couldn’t care less about anything other than cumming. Your mind became foggy and filled with a certain haze. “Mm. Keep going. Dnt stop.”, Those words left Satoru’s mouth, his thrusts were sloppy and no longer had rhythm. His fingers found their way to your clit and played with you to make sure you came before him. Your moans filled the room as you were so close. You stopped as you finally reached the bliss you been begging for, panting heavily trying to regain the breath you once had. The feeling of warm liquid filling you was a slap in the face. You soon realized you didn’t use protection. You looked down at Satoru whose eyes were closed with a smile of his face. “Oops, m’sorry i’ll get you a Plan B in the morning.” His hand gripped your ass while you sat there in disbelief. How could you fuck up this bad? You smiled as you seen him cover his face once again, “Don’t worry about it. I have some in the bathroom.”. You got off of him and made your way to the bathroom.

When you came back you saw sleeping Satoru, under your sheets wrapped around your blanket. It was a cute sight to see him so vulnerable, you were about to fuck up his life. You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling him. He turned around and placed his head between your breast, his arm wrapped around your lower back pulling you close. You took out your phone and took a couple of pictures. This bitch was gonna know “Fuck my man, I fuck your brother.”. You unblocked her number to send her a little treat. “When Satoru comes home tomorrow tell him I had a wonderful time. (3 attachments sent).”.

You turned off your phone and cuddled the sleeping boy, kissing his forehead and cheeks. “Mm, she's gonna fuck you up when you get home.” You whispered in his ear. His phone was soon blowing up, From his mom and sister. “I don't care, you don't know how long I've been waiting to fuck you.” He muttered under his breath. You laughed, He wasn’t going anywhere. Not just yet.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Hey S! My mind is in the gutter again (when is it not?) and I mean after all these years Anthony (Mackie) must’ve walked in on Chris and Sebastian doing the dirty.

So imagine: They’re filming catws and I don’t think that Chris and Sebastian would have told him about their relationship. Yeah, maybe they know that Anthony has his suspicions and they’d be okay with him knowing, but they just haven’t had that talk yet, y know. And Anthony’s a smart man, he already knows, gives them knowing glances (we’ve seen them enough in interviews). But then, they go film on a different location and they stay in hotel rooms. It’s already late, maybe they all went out for drinks after filming and Chris and Sebastian got back earlier to have some fun of their own. When they check in and they go to their room, they don’t open all the doors, because they’re too busy getting each other naked and finding the bed.

Anthony on the other hand also came back, he got the room next door. He does open all the doors and sadly, the hotel forgot to close the door that intertwines the rooms (like for families and or people who want a really big room?) and there right in front of him. Is Sebastian riding the living hell out Chris, moaning at Chris’ dirty talk. Anthony screamed like a 9yo girl (he would never admit it) traumatized by the sight, but happy for his friends.

From that moment on Anthony’s their proud supporter and he will forever tease them about their sex life.

Okay so sorry for that, but I needed to get that out and I really want a better writer (like you, Sir;)) to write this.

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Hey! Lmao, fair enough, I fucking feel that shit. I live in the gutter at this point. I do not leave. And as far as poor, poor Anthony having to put up with Chris and Sebastian's shit...

May I interest you in this semi-recent ask answer from Minnie (@musette22) on this exact subject? Because, fuck yeah, you're not the only one thinking about it, lol. Also, though, I will add to that ask answer with another fic rec from Minnie that sort of fits the bill. Depending on how you look at it, haha. Technically Mackie doesn't walk in on them, he's already there when they get started, but still, I love the fic! It's "Intervention" by musette22 on AO3. Highly recommend!

Imagine, yes, though, I will 👀

(This was going to be actual smut, but then I couldn't help myself, and it turned into crack, so, my apologies. But I think I had more fun writing Mackie getting punked, anyway 💀💀)

Anthony has been dragged around on his fair share of film sets and he's been in the middle of fucking nowhere for that shit before. Thank you, no thank you, Hurt Locker, in the middle of the goddamn desert with practical explosions that blew them back onto their asses. Literally.

So, he thinks he's pretty damn lucky to have it nice and cushy this time as far as filming locations go. First in Cali, L.A. babyyy, then Washington D.C., and now Ohio. Sure, Ohio is a fucking abyss in the middle but Cleveland isn't so bad. It's nice. The location, the film budget, and his friends. It's all nice. Chris is a good buddy, Sebastian he hasn't seen much of but he's getting to know more every time he does and they have a scene together, and Scarlet, well, Anthony wants to see a hell of a lot more of Scarlet. Maybe before the movie and press are up he can convince Chris to tell him the secret to working on too many fucking movies with the same person. Yeah, that'd be good. He's gonna do that. That's a good plan.

He's set up good. He's got a good life. And he's had a good fucking night, following Evans around in downtown, club to bar to club to club--who knew Cleveland would have so many places to party, goddamn--after a day of relentless filming.

At some point after tipsy but before outrageously drunk, where Anthony is now, Chris and Sebastian split off from the group and disappeared. Anthony didn't let himself worry about it, they got it covered, and knowing how Chris gets when the lights go down, he was probably just off to a different place with some new friend he made and charmed the pants off of. It's no big deal. Everybody's having a good time.

Everybody was having a good time.

Now, he's been shuttled by taxi back to their newest hotel in their string of hotels over these past months of filming and stumbling into the lobby, falling into the elevator, and toddling toward his room as he shoves his hands in all his pockets, searching for wherever the hell he left that keycard. He's got it somewhere. It's a little hard to find, though, when his world is spinning off its axis and he's warm and loose with liquor. His fingers buzz and feel good, but can't really grab anymore.

It takes Anthony a few minutes, swaying in front of his door, to get into his room, but he does eventually. And, for another few minutes, he thinks that's it. That's all the fanfare for the evening, y'all. No more gaggles of lighting and film crews, no more well-meaning but pestering PAs, no more directors calling cut to confer, pressing their heads together like a two-headed expert, no more crowds of sweaty, writhing bodies, dancing, singing along to music loud enough to make his ears ring, rowdy shouts for "shots, shots, shots!" or cheering calls chug whatever is left in your glass. Just him and his hotel room.

After giving up on finding the lightswitch, Anthony's trying to figure out where the fuck his suitcase got dumped by one of the personal assistants without tripping over it or smacking into it first. Fuck it, he'll settle for just not smacking into the corners or walls, never mind his suitcase. It's fucking fine. He can just strip out of his shoes, socks, and pants, fiddling with his belt and dumb, drunk fingers, rip his shirt off, and he'll be good. The pile of clothes he leaves behind like a shedded snaked skin is sober Anthony's problem. That's a morning issue (just like the pounding headache he knows he'll have, but it's fine, tomorrow's Saturday anyhow).

But, his mission to get naked and fall into his hotel bed, ruining the nicely done sheets, and pass the fuck out is interrupted by two things that filter into his conception of the spinning world at once.

One) Someone is knocking? Hitting? Something? Squeak, squeak, squeak, it happens again and again and again. It's probably someone knocking on his fucking door at whatever ass o'clock it is but why the fuck now. It can't be call time already.

Two) His lights are on. Motion sensors? That, or, he hit a switch as he fell into the wall, slapping his hand out to catch himself. What the fuck.

While Anthony is trying to blearily figure out both of those things that hit him at once like a backhand across the drunk, uncoordinated face it comes to him. The understanding, that is.

Ah. Boom. Figured it out. Easy as shit. He's smart as fuck. There's an open door in his hotel room and Chris and Sebastian are fucking so hard that the bed over there, in that lights-on room, is hitting the wall.

Wait--

There's an open door in his hotel room?

Wait.

Chris and Sebastian are fucking?

They're fucking in his hotel room?

What.

Anthony reels back immediately after having just pushed off the wall in the first place, falling back against the drywall and slapping both hands palm-down onto the wall, needing support while his head spins faster than the world around him. He gawks at what he sees, blinking his blurry eyes hard, trying to figure out if what he's seeing it real.

Unfortunately for him, it is.

There's an open fucking door in his hotel room that leads straight to Chris and Sebastian in their room and Chris and Sebastian are all sorts of tangled up.

There's Chris, lazing back against the headboard of the bed. And there's Sebastian, straddling Chris' lap, his legs quivering, his arms trapped behind his back, caught in one of Chris' hands by the wrist, and his neck arched, head thrown back. Sebastian's bouncing in Chris' lap, moving so fast that he's really just a fucking blur of horny movement.

He's riding Chris hard.

So hard, that that's what the fucking noise is. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Their poor bed is screaming out for help under their enthusiasm, the springs squeaking beneath them, so loud they're nearly the same volume as Chris' voice, rumbling smooth and pressed into Sebastian's throat that's blushing bright pink and looks to have been mauled (oh my god, makeup is going to hate them). Sebastian throws himself into that too, not one to be outdone in his performance, and moans, guttural with its depth yet needy and high in pitch, "d-AH!-daddy!"

Anthony's eyes go so fucking wide they probably fucking bulge out of his head.

Oh. my. god.

This is blackmail material.

Anthony takes a single hysterical, terrible, hilarious second to recognize what the fuck he's seeing--the white-boy fuck he's seeing--and then, instantly, lurch forward the handful of steps he has to make it through, off-balance to get to the door. When he's finally close enough, Anthony slaps a hand out, gets it around the door handle, and slams that fucking door shut, sealing their rooms off from one another. Giving everyone the privacy they all desperately need.

Oh my god, he thinks again, dizzy.

Anthony ends up leaning back against the door he's just rushed to shut, needing support before he falls to the floor in a mess of drunken limbs and fucked-up reaction timing. His heart is beating out of his chest, double time with his alcohol-thinned blood rushing faster, faster, faster. It pumps loudly through his ears.

Chuckling in horror and pure hilarity, Anthony reconciles that he's never gonna fucking look either of them in the eyes ever. again.

What the hell.

He can't believe none of the staff thought to or paid enough attention to shut that door! What are the chances of that? That needs to be on the room clean-up checklist! What if there had been a fucking murderer next door? What if his suitcase and shit were dropped and the person next door just walked through a stole it? Also, fuck, he can't believe neither of them told him! Not the staff, but the idiots fucking next door. He's known Chris for, like, forever. Relationships--friends with benefits, serious, or otherwise--are important!

And, hold on, numbers zoom around in his head, too fast for his drunk ass--when did the first Captain America come out? When would that have been filmed then? How long ago was that? Did they start messing around then? It's gotta be right? And if it is, then it's been a good fucking while. Why wasn't he told? He wouldn't go gossiping, Chris knows that. He wouldn't loved to know. He would've cheered Chris on, he's cool, man. They're friends! Tight friends. That asshole, leaving him out of the loop.

Asshole is the wrong fucking insult to think of because then he's seeing the two of them together all over again in his head and hearing the noises Sebastian was making and, ugh, Anthony shakes his head to get rid of it only, leaning more so back up against the slammed-shut door, Anthony can hear them.

They're laughing.

They're laughing, those shameless motherfuckers.

Laughing and probably kissing because the sounds go quiet for a second but then they're back. And then Sebastian's distinctive, uncontrollable giggle that he gets going sometimes when he's tired and loopy and Chris is making dumb, shitty jokes is there. Half that giggle and half-gasping, moaning sounds that make Anthony have no choice but to pound on the door with his fist (which is probably the liquor talking, if he's honest, there are other options), shouting, "I'm gonna call the front desk and file a noise complaint, you loud fuckers! I swear to god! I am!" He's teasing and his voice is slurred from the drinks he had tonight, so there's no real threat, but it's annoying that those dicks (again, wrong fucking word for his mind's eye) don't take him seriously at all.

In fact, to make matters worse, Sebastian has the gall to sass him back through the wall, loud and almost joyful as he verbally sticks his tongue out at him, "m'kaa-ah!-yy! Mmm-hmm! You, you do that!" Reacting sharply, moaning-gasping more, to whatever Chris is doing to him.

Helplessly, Anthony laughs at him, shaking his head.

What is his life?

How did he get here?

Why are these his friends?

At least, for the most part, they do seem to try and keep it down as much as they can after that. No problem, though, Anthony is already planning to spend the time they keep him up workshopping all the embarrassing jokes he can make at their expense tomorrow. He can't wait to see their stupid faces when he knows and prods at them but no one else does. It's gonna be fucking hilarious. He's hilarious. He'll show 'em. Those assholes.

Bonus:

this video of Mackie [indirectly] calling them kinky

and this picture because it's so funny to me

[allwormdiet]

Interlude 3½

Nazi capes fuck off

Kayden automatically gives such awful vibes, ~ooh my daughter is still pure and uninfected by any of the things wrong with society, not that I contribute to that in any way by being a fucking Nazi~

So obviously this is my second go-around on this chapter so I know who Theo is in context, and can I just say, poor fucking kid. Truly what a nightmarish situation to be born into and have no control over

Good kid.

Fucking rancid adult. I'm glad it hurts you that he doesn't want you to have any luck, Kayden, you fucking dirtbag

Frankly I wish she would have a moment of doubt or hesitation, maybe it would mean she stops being a fucking Nazi. Or maybe she wipes out after taking a fifteen-story swan dive, either way that's a problem solved

And oh yeah, of course she just happens to be targeting the ABB, not like she could pick a fight with Coil or something

...The description of her realizing that they're closing ranks and getting stronger is a neat instance of showing Bakuda's influence from another perspective, at least, get something out of this rotten POV

It's been one week of mediocre results and you're going back to him. What a pillar of moral strength you are.

So the leader of a neo-Nazi street gang is, like, the CEO of a company that's big enough to have its own building with a logo on it.

...Does that feel a little small potatoes to anyone else? I feel like if you're an evil CEO with superpowers and Nazi sympathies you could do a lot more damage than that. Like I know Green Goblin basically only terrorizes New York City but that's because the city is outrageously dense with superhero bullshit, it takes a fucking escape velocity to leave for even an issue, and even then Norman Osbourne still found time to do the Thunderbolts thing

God this man's vibes suck so hard. Like obviously they suck, he's a fucking Nazi, but clearly that wasn't enough for him

Quick q, what does the CEO of a company need with the profits from extortion and theft? He makes more money by sitting in a board meeting, and you can't tell me that there's no way to launder money available to him

And yeah fucking, of course she's still only beating up nonwhite criminals, she's a fucking Nazi

Excuses excuses, Kayden

And yeah of course you can't shake the perspective that "the same kinds of people" are all the worse criminals, you spent a decade believing that and haven't really challenged yourself on that

Honestly I'm willing to believe that her split with Max here wasn't even a matter of ideology, just that she didn't want him to fuck up their kid

And here we see why Kayden fell into becoming a fucking Nazi, I suspect: it's that she's also a goddamn sucker. Max is playing her like a fiddle, and she knows full well that he is, but she falls for it anyway. I'd almost feel bad for her, if she wasn't a fucking Nazi

Cry me a fucking river, Kayden

Current Thoughts

Let's get back to the characters worth anything

[thetypedwriter]

Children of Anguish and Anarchy Book Review

Children of Anguish and Anarchy Book Review by Tomi Adeyemi

This book was so horrible. 

No one is more disappointed than me to say that. 

I’ve gone to two of Tomi Adeyemi’s book signings, including a recent one for Children of Anguish and Anarchy.

Tomi Adeyemi herself is absolutely wonderful. She’s so intelligent, hilarious, addictively charming, and can work a room like no other. The book signing was fantastic. Too bad the book couldn’t hold up to the event itself. 

Children of Anguish and Anarchy follows as the third and last installment of the Legacy of Orisha trilogy, but doesn’t read like that at all.

Other than having the same four main characters of Tzain, Zelie, Amari, and Inan, nothing about the book concludes any issue, plot story, or character development from the previous two novels. 

A completely new villain is introduced, someone we haven't heard about as a reader in the last two books whatsoever, and obliterates any of the conflict and tension that Adeyemi worked so hard to build in her previous stories. 

Gone is the tension and literally hundreds of years of in-fighting between the Maji and the monarchy, gone is the civil war and its repercussions on Orisha, gone is even one of the main characters from the last novel, Roen, who was a significant love interest for Zelie and who has been completely disappeared in this new book all together (like, what???). 

It was incredibly lazy writing to wipe away everything the first two books created in order to “unite” against this new enemy. The sentiment is nice, but it’s not the finale we wanted or needed. 

I desired answers to Amari and Zelie’s broken friendship, closure to the Inan and Roen love triangle, a verdict on how Orisha would rebuild and who would rule. 

We get none of that. 

Instead Zelie and the others spend half their time in the book on a ship with very strong slavery parallels, and the other half in the introduced land of New Gaia.

While I thought the descriptions of New Gaia were beautiful (albeit very similar to Avatar), I was dissatisfied because the whole series at this point has been focused on Orisha and Orisha’s problems, not New Gaia and not the Skulls. 

While the plot was bad and aggrieving, the characters were even worse. 

None of the characters were interesting. They were carbon copies of each other in which all they talked about was avenging their fallen Orishan people, killing the Skulls, and protecting loved ones.

Rinse and repeat. It was boring as hell to delve into four different characters’ minds only to find that they all sounded exactly the same. 

I often had to go back to the start of the chapter to tell whose internal thoughts I was reading because they were so interchangeable and self-righteous and dull.  It is never a good sign when you can’t automatically tell who’s POV you’re reading based on their internal dialogue and tone. 

Lastly, the pacing of the book was atrocious. Everything happened so goddamn fast that I felt like I never had the chance to properly digest or internalize anything.

Oh they’re on a ship? Moving on from that. Zelie got some sort of medallion shoved into her chest?? Moving on. Wait, Maji and Titans and the monarchy are all working together after two full books of them killing each other??? Five pages and it’s done with. 

It was outrageous and insulting. 

The pacing made everything feel shallow, unimportant, and unnecessary. More than most of the plot were action scenes, while difficult to write and interesting in their own right, in this book it was so repetitive that characters killing other characters 90% of the time became egregiously tedious. 

And speaking of the action, I also found it incredibly violent and graphic for a YA book. As someone who is not a fan of gore and blood, this book had so many explicit details for no reason other than being gratuitous.

For example, at one point Zelie shoves a chicken bone through someone’s cheek. I found it repulsive and it was also incessant. 

I know some people can handle brutality, but I can’t, and found it a huge turn off and made me dislike the book so much more, especially as this was a majority of the book to boot. 

Disappointment can’t even contain my full feelings for this story. For such a wonderful trilogy to succumb to such a terrible end is a tragedy. I wish the best for Tomi Adeyemi and success for her future, but I will not read another book by her again. 

Score: 2/10

Recommendation: Read Children of Blood and Bone, a magical story that will inspire and entertain you. Read Children of Virtue and Vengeance if you really need something else, but even this book I wouldn’t recommend picking up.

Do not, I repeat, do not read Children of Anguish and Anarchy. It will leave you feeling dismayed and disheartened beyond redemption.

Bonus: Here's me, my fiance, and Tomi Adeyemi at her book signing!

[red-dead-reloaded]

We all just need some little John in our lives

We’ve all got our secrets, and I’m gonna let you in on one of mine: My life kinda sucks. 

I’m 35, got no job, just a few days ago I was sitting here hunched over, twiddling my thumbs, regretting all those bad decisions and wondering what the hell the meaning of it all is.

Well, it turns out John Marston was doing the same. No job, lots of regrets, wondering what the hell it was all for. 

Oh yeah, did I mention? We both hate Edgar Ross. 

So I guess we got a lot in common.

But ever since I convinced him to hit the road with me on our standup comedy bonanza, I’ve got this guy telling me jokes ALL the time. 

Seriously, he just won’t shut the hell up. 

But you know what? I can’t stop goddamn LAUGHING. This little John in my head is all the medicine I need right now.

So, I thought about all those assholes John and the guys keep running into. Braithwaites, O'Driscolls, that dude in Saint Denis…

Why are they all so goddamn MISERABLE?

Then I realised the answer: 

They all just need some more John in their lives. A big serving of little John. 

Maybe we all need some little John from time to time. 

[fbfh]

Leo Valdez is such a goddamn sexy motherfucker and he's so goddamn romantic but you swear to god you've never been more attracted to him than when he gets all protective over you. You're visiting some family and old friends in your hometown and you're... aprehensive. there's a reason you haven't really talked to these people in so long, and Leo's heard plenty of stories about all them so he has an idea of what you're getting yourselves into. normally you wouldn't have agreed to go at all, much less stay as long as you are, but this time is different, because you have Leo with you. everyone you're visiting would have insisted you bring him anyway, they haven't gotten to meet him properly and are curious to say the least. honestly, there's a good chance you're enganged at this point, so even if that weren't the case, there's no way Leo's letting you try to handle a stressful situation like this by yourself. he wouldn't have before but he's sure as hell not going to now. you get through a day and a half before something happens, which all things considered isn't too bad. what your relative said was shitty, but the way they said it was shittier. you stare at the floor for a second, processing what the fuck that was. you don't even need to look at Leo to know the exact expression on his face, but before you can, he pulls you into the kitchen to get more drinks. "Are you okay?" He asks through a laugh that's both outraged at what just happened and in total disbelief that someone really just said that to you. It would be funny if it were happening to someone else. "Yeah..." you say with a similar tone. He brushes his thumb over your cheek lovingly, and it's so soothing you can feel the sting of their words already fading. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a breather?" He offers, still holding his drink in his other hand. You nod, thinking about how nice it will be to have a few minutes to yourself. "Good," he starts, and you can see the change in his eyes, "you go take care of yourself, I'll take care of them." His tone is subtly sharper towards the end, and you know he's ready to unleash hell on whoever made you upset. You watch him down the rest of his drink before heading back into the living room, and even when you're upstairs, you can't stop thinking about how nice his hands looked in the light diffused through his glass.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 63 - I'll Cry if I Want To

You get drunk. Guess who comes lurking?

On AO3.

Getting shit-faced. That is what wine’s good for.

The night’s real pretty. Y’all are inside the grove, all the goblins’re fucking dead, and the druids ain’t gonna let…let fucking wargs or mean bears in here. So it’s safe. There’s a rock digging into your left ass cheek, and you cannot be fucked to do nothing about it. But you’re safe! So it’s fine.

You take another gulp. People say when you got enough alcohol, you don’t notice then taste no more, but those fuckers’re lying liars who fucking lie, and it still tastes like bitter…bitter piss.

Bitch burns, too.

“Shit is gross,” you say to nobody. “The fuck do people drink this?”

Probably cause it makes you warm. And vaguely floating. Your muscles seem to burn a lot more, but you’re still kinda happy. Not like, sing and flail around the living room happy, but happy enough the last…week? Ish? Whatever. The night is pretty. An owl hoots and squirrels run along branches. Bugs creak and hum and a crow in the trees above lets out a sleepy “crk.”

“Sorry!” you say. Realize you’re shouting. Whisper, “Sorry.”

Crows keep grudges, huh? You heard about that. Should let the little dude to back to sleep.

Probably shouldn’t be out in the woods by yourself?

Whatever.

Another gulp. Your whole face wrinkles.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” says a fucking rat man.

You turn. The woods spin a little, and you gotta blink before the two, pale silhouettes become one bastard man.

“’Sa party,” you say. “Errbody’s drinking.”

Why’s he here? You ain’t been gone long. Right? You’re pretty sure.

“How’s Lae’zel?” you say.

He winces. You’re shouting again.

You pitch your voice back down. “How’s Lae’zel?”

He gives you a look. It slides right on past you. “Jealous, dear?”

Your chest hurts again. Still for no fucking reason. “Pff. No. Just surprised how quick it was.”

For some reason, he pulls back in outrage (yeah! you recognize that one!). “Excuse me?”

“It ain’t nothing bad!” You only flail a little. Almost throw the wine bottle and then have to clutch it to your chest. Next to your soul flask. They clink through your shirt. “Just…y’know. ‘Fficient. You’re very efficient.”

He stands there like he’s trying to parse out what you’re saying. Did the potion wear off again? You gotta study more.

And who the fuck cares. You ain’t out here for him. You ain’t out here for nobody except to get shit-faced.

“Why are you out here alone?” rat bastard man says.

It probably ain’t supposed to be funny. Or maybe it just ain’t funny to him. Or anyone but you. But for you? You don’t drink, you don’t hookup, but you do plonk your ass down and get sloshed off a bottle and a half of wine all by your lonesome.

You want ice cream. You would literally kill a man for ice cream.

“If I didn’t know any better,” the bastard fuck boy says, “I’d say you look like you were trying to drink away your feelings.”

You squint up at him. White hair a silvery halo around his head in the moonlight. Eyes shining like new pennies in the low light. Fucker asks your opinion on who he ought to bang, and then finds you afterwards to…to fucking needle you?

You ain’t never been drunk like this. You flirted with getting mildly buzzed. Got borderline tipsy that once when Ryan fucking Meadows ghosted you and you ugly cried onto Sasha’s only clean work shirt.

None of that really processes, though. You ain’t really up to the whole “processing” thing right now; that barn door is long open and them hogs already sprinted for the hills.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, clicking the “k” at the end extra hard. “Pompous goddamn mess of a…of a man dick.”

He blinks like you just sprouted a beak and began reciting the entire works of Shakespeare in chicken.

And you ain’t done. “I got all the fucking reason to be off my damn ass out here, you shit. I lost my whole fucking family. Again. My whole fucking world. Fucking demons and brainworms and your ass. Maybe I just wanted to get drunk all by myself.”

You feel how dry your mouth is, and chug a few more swallows.

“Tastes like shit,” you say and try to scrape your tongue on your teeth. “Don’t know why anybody drinks it.”

Astarion still stands there. Fucking creepo. He’ll get all huffy and leave; toss you some snide bullshit before he goes. Jackass.

Only he don’t. He…lowers himself down. Not right next to you, but within kicking distance.

You think about doing just that.

“What even is that swill?” he says.

You look at the label. At the swirly-spiky letters all swooping together. Turn to him, with the most deadpan expression you can muster, and say, “What’s up, I’m Jared, I’m nineteen, and I never fucking learned how to read.”

It is, hands down, the best joke you ever made in your whole life. You bend over laughing. You cry, laughing. Your bladder twinges and you keep laughing.

But then something happens. And you’re still laughing, and your eyes is watering, but now it hurts. Now you can’t breathe and nobody else is laughing with you cause they don’t get the joke and never will because your world is dead. Not like, actually. But they might as well be.

And like hell you want Astarion to fucking see that. So you shove the bottle at him and turn away like it’s just the giggles. Ain’t nothing to see here. Just a giggly drunk.

No one is ever gonna get your jokes. Ain’t nobody gonna know what “Wednesday my dudes” is. Or the helium balloons. Or the yoga grinch.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck.

Wine sloshes in the bottle. Astarion somehow gives an audible grimace.

“I think you grabbed the worst of them, darling. This is pure vinegar.”

You don’t turn around. You try to shove the goddamn sniffles back in your face. You don’t cry in front of other people. That shit ain’t safe. It’s how everybody knows how weak and stupid you are, and you are not gonna give this jackass that ammunition.

But it keeps coming. The smell of the red dirt after a hard rain. Homemade pecan custard pie. Uncle Randy was gonna take you to the Cherokee Days this fall. You was gonna try to learn basket weaving. The old style.

And you up and disappeared on him. On all of them.

Again.

Only this time, you ain’t coming back. This time, you ain’t gonna find no pink bicycle waiting for you cause you ain’t never gonna come crunching back over that red gravel. Never gonna smell them rich pecan trees, and bitch about Uncle Randy’s nasty cigarettes.

This is what you do, ain’t it? You disappear. You run off. You leave your family. All of your family, even the piece of shit parts over and over and over.

The tears coat your cheeks. You swipe at them furiously.

The wine sloshes again.

“Our gith friend had other plans for the evening,” Astarion says after…you don’t know.

You glance up and the sky spins above you. Fuck, you’re gonna make yourself sick you keep this up.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

“That sucks,” you say.

He makes a startled, snorting sound. “There was none of that, actually. And that’s the problem.”

Ah. Ye-awp. That’d do it. That’d be why he’s here with you. His prospect failed, so now he’s come back to you. The easy one.

You sigh and finally lose your fight with gravity and flop onto your side. You wave vaguely over your shoulder.

“Go find one of them tieflings, then,” you say. “They can’t all be paired off.”

You’re tired, actually. Desperately so. The grass is nice and soft, and it’s safe out here, right?

Something shuffles. A rhythmic swish of grass. It’s the change in the air that alerts you. He don’t radiate body heat cause he don’t got none. But he is…surrounded by something a lot like a static field.

You look up to see him on all fours over you, peering down. Not like, over you, over you, it’s just his head. He wears no expression. Just…looks at you.

Have you ever seen him like this before?

“You didn’t seek any playmates of your own,” he says. And who the fuck talks like that?

“I got.” You start to lift your hand to waggle your remaining wine bottle, but your hands is empty. Ah fuck. “I had wine.”

“But you didn’t need to drink by yourself, darling. Both the cleric and the wizard would have gladly followed you out here.”

Well he certainly did.

Still, that blank face. Not, like, shuttered blank. Just…open. Or empty. It’s just his face.

…you should just tell him. All’ve this would be so easy if you just fucking told him. But he dumped you. He’s probably one of them guys who gets real weird when he finds out you’re thirty-five and are the sole provider of your own orgasms.

And it shouldn’t fucking matter.

“Didn’t want to,” you say. And do not elaborate.

Leaving the ball in his court. He fumbles with it. Stares at you like you just tossed him a soggy potato.

You’re kinda curious to see what he does with it.

His eyes narrow. You think he frowns. But it ain’t a pissy frown. It’s a thinking frown. And too late you remember that this bastard clues in on your plans real fast. That he seems to have a decent read on things (that ain’t trying to get into your pants).

Oh fuck.

“You haven’t dabbled with any of our merry band,” he says. Is that thoughtful? He sounds thoughtful. Shit on a goddamn cracker.

Um.

“And you saved me back at that goblin camp,” you say. And give yourself a mental high five, cause if he wants to delve into shit you don’t wanna talk about, take a reverse fucking uno card, jackass!

But he don’t dodge or parry, this time. He fucking leans in. You breathe in some of his own exhale and feel your cheeks begin to warm (through the booze).

“And what if I did?” he says, voice just shy of a whisper.

Oh. You didn’t expect that. Shit. What’s the play here? Uh.

“I’d thank you,” you say.

The sky spins above him. He’s the only steady thing in your vision.

“Is that all?” he says. Y’all are totally sharing lung air now, and his whisper gives you a goddamn ASMR shiver.

Except you’re drunk. And he’s way too close. And the shivers quiver down to your belly. The sky spins faster.

“What if I told you,” Astarion breathes, “that I’ve been thinking about our night together ceaselessly—”

Your stomach lurches.

Oh. That ain’t a shiver or a booze buzz or Astarion. You make some awful gagging sound, wrench up and to the side, and bring up about a bottle and a half of wine.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[ww2yaoi]

i would love to hear something about webgott brainrot :3

this evil beast… my first stab at webgott so I don't know how good it is but it's almost 60k and unfinished and everytime I open the doc it bites me and I go yowch! and I close the tab. it's basically just web and joe's summertime affair in austria and them fucking and swimming and occasionally almost killing each other. hopefully it sees the light of day someday

here's a snippet <3

David shakes his head. He can feel Joe’s gaze on him, but he refuses to return it. He thinks if he glances over and sees the look on Joe’s face, whether it be one of understanding or disgust, he might really break down.

“Why didn’t you become an officer, Web?” Joe asks. “You could’ve.”

“Because someone had to be the soldier on the fucking ground. Someone had to kill these goddamn Germans,” David says, his words slurring from the gin. “My parents resent me for joining up, and yet they wanted the Allies to win the war. Someone has to bleed and fight and die, but no, not their son.”

He swallows hard, rage bubbling up in his throat, forming a peach pit in his esophagus. “Fucking hypocrites. Maybe if I had gotten mowed down by a machine gun in Normandy they would have some fucking perspective.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” Joe says, sounding hurt by the idea. “Don’t be stupid, Web.”

“Yeah, well, I did say it.”

Joe sighs. His shoulder knocks against David’s, and it’s almost comforting. “Y’know, I always assumed you became an enlisted man so you’d have more interesting things to write about.”

David smiles to himself. “Yeah, maybe a bit of that too.”

He raises the bottle to his mouth, tips it back, but finds he’s drained the last of the gin. It triggers his anger again, which rips through him like a jolt of electricity.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I still doing here?” David says, and his voice echoes across the lake.

He throws the empty bottle in the vague direction of the shoreline. It shatters against a rock, breaking into a thousand pieces. Joe flinches beside him at the sound. David hangs his head in his hands, tugs at his hair.

“If they’re going to send us to the Pacific, they might as well do it now. If I’m going to get blown to bits over Tokyo, I’d like to get it over with.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Joe says. “I think we’re here for the long haul.”

“Yeah, left to fucking rot.”

Joe makes an unimpressed sound at the back of his throat. “Come on, it’s not so bad. We’ve got hot showers, warm beds, decent food. It sure beats combat.”

“Well, it’s a gilded cage, Joe,” David says. “I want out.”

“I know, Web, I know.”

They fall into silence for several minutes. Eventually, Joe reaches over and rubs David’s back, working his hand over his hunched shoulder blades, over the tired notches in his spine. It tempers some of David’s outrage, settles his muscles that have been tensed since this morning.

“Do you have a cigarette?” David asks after a moment.

“Yeah.”

Joe reaches into his breast pocket and removes a pack of Lucky Strikes. He shakes out two cigarettes, puts them both in his mouth, lights them, then hands one to David.

“Thanks.”

David raises it to his lips but finds that his fingers are trembling.

Joe notices. “Your hands are shaking, Web.”

David puffs on his cigarette and smoke pools in his lungs. The hit of nicotine only serves to make him feel nauseous.

“I’m angry,” he says, cigarette hanging limply in his mouth.

Joe reaches over and takes David’s clammy hands in his. Joe’s are dry and cool in comparison, hard calluses built into his fingertips from wielding a rifle for so many years. Joe holds onto David’s fingers as they quiver in his palms, then runs his knobby thumbs gently over David’s knuckles.

Steady hands, David thinks. He loves Joe’s steady hands, even if they’re hands that have maimed and killed, heart lines baptized with blood that can never be washed away. Not completely. David has fallen apart so willingly beneath these same hands, let them soothe him and embrace him and pull him asunder. He would take them inside of himself if he could, let Joe pick through his body as if he were one big open wound. David wishes he were brave enough to ask him to do it, but he’s so often afraid, so he closes his chest and padlocks his rib cage and waits for Joe to find the keys to come in.

“Come on, let’s go back up,” Joe says after a while, letting go of David’s hands. He stubs out his cigarette and reaches for the flashlight, clicking it on. “I don’t know how you made it down here in the dark without breaking an ankle.”

“I know the path,” David insists, throwing his cigarette into the lake as Joe helps him to his feet.

thanks for the ask!

[messydepressy95]

It's Thanksgiving on Miller Ranch and they are not having a good time, folks.

Chapter 5 of 'Let Me Be Your Shelter' will be up at midnight tonight EST!

Here's a snippet.

---

"Will you fuck'n stop wrigglin', I'm gonna slip a damn disc if you keep doin' that shit." He bites out, trying to avoid taking another one of Tess's elbows to his kidney. 

"Put me the fuck down, Joel." Like hell, she'd just run her ass back up the field to strangle his brother's bitch of a wife. 

"Not on your life, sweetheart." The condescension threaded into the pet name earns him a knee to his sternum. He shifts her up, letting his shoulder knock the air out of her in return as she comes back down on it. 

Unlocking the back door into the kitchen, he kicks it closed after they cross the threshold. Taking two quick strides toward the kitchen table, he drops her onto it unceremoniously. 

She scrambles up to her feet seething as she jerks her shirt down from where it'd ridden up on the journey home. 

"She doesn't get to just say that kind of shit about you and get away with it, Joel." Tess growls, spittle flying with the force behind her words. 

"Beat'n the shit out of her ain't gonna help none, Tess. She's been around almost as long as you have, there ain't no changin' her mind, you know that." Tess looks at him with barely contained outrage. 

"Why do you let her pin you as a piece of shit, Joel? You aren't anything you let her believe." he finds that rich coming from her, the woman who won't commit because she's lumped him in with every other asshole. 

"Like you're so different?" He spits, voice angry and hollow. Tess steps back, appalled by him. 

"I know that I am not a good man, Tess. I wish I could be, maybe that's what you need, but don't sit there and spew that shit at me, not when you do the same damn thing with your actions." She gapes at him, stunned by his accusation. 

" I do not make you out to be the bad guy." She hisses, stepping toward him with an accusative finger jutting out, wrath replacing the shock on her face. 

Maybe they shouldn't be doing this now, maybe they should wait until the pulsing high of adrenaline of whatever the fuck that was back at Tommy's, has worn off. 

But he's been holding this shit in for years now, letting it fester and feed off of him like a goddamn fungus. 

---

OOF.

I am both excited and terrified of sharing this chapter with y'all, shit gets real in this one.