#They're obnoxious and in love your honor

[gyzym]

HELLO TUMBLR 👋 i am ENORMOUSLY excited to say: i've written a book! and i'm writing two more! and they're all queer romcoms! and the first one, FALL INTO YOU, will be out in JUNE. there is a LOT of my heart in this novel, and i absolutely can't wait to share it with you 💜

if you've ever enjoyed my fanfic, particularly stories like What We Pretend We Can't See and I've Got Nothing to Do Today But Smile, then you'll love FALL INTO YOU. it's full of ROMANCE and JOKES but also REAL, MESSY PEOPLE with PROBLEMS and TRAUMA, because those are the stories i love telling! it's chock full of things i adore: set on an APPLE FARM in NORTHEAST OHIO, main characters who hate each other more or less immediately, gratuitous depictions of food, and they were ROOMMATES?, people healing wounds they didn't even know were still open, AND MORE.

i'll be sharing more about this book in the weeks to come (i promise i will try so hard not to be obnoxious about it 🫡 ), and about the next two as we get closer to publication! but until then, i just want to say: the fic stays UP and the author stays GRATEFUL, always. i am honored and humbled by your readership, and really proud of the work i've done for and with fandom, and that's not a tune you're ever going to see me change.

okay, thanks so much for reading!! hope you're all well; i'll just be here having one of the coolest and most surreal days of my life 😂👋💜

EDITED TO ADD 4/29/25: for those who have been kind enough to ask, you can PREORDER Fall Into You here in the US (or here in the UK)! Will have info to you ASAP on options for folks in other countries, this is all as new to me as it is to you, but will keep you very posted 💜

[humanjarvis]

bloodlust

synopsis: you’ve never known real power. sylus lets you taste it.

tags: nsfw & dark (mdni), sylus gravely injures people who upset you, you like it and fuck him in front of their writhing bodies, he then wipes them from existence with his evol, love confessions, avoidant reader is back, reader thinks they're weak, reader exalts sylus, reader needs therapy, size difference, fingering, vaginal sex, kinda? implied to be their first time but u can decide for urself bc what a first time this would be, blood, violence (obviously), sylus is still nice but definitely leaning into the legendary criminal persona, he’s also obsessed with you, i think that’s it?? pairing: sylus x reader word count: 2.7k

a/n: try psychoanalyzing THIS

You’d always known you were a vengeful person. 

From the day you’d started hating your babysitter for insulting your favorite toy, to the time you’d tried to explode your leech of a landlord with your mind every month, you’d been well aware: you did not take kindly to being wronged. 

You had no true power of your own, no—timid and unimposing, you’d been forced to restrict your retaliation to the hypothetical, the mental. Death wishes, prayers for misfortune, and fantasies of karma were your safe haven—the space in your mind where no one could reach you with insult or ridicule, where the judgment of others was your sole prerogative. 

For years, you’d lived this way, worked this way. Discredited and discarded, excluded and exploited, you’d sought comfort in your capacity to think, to imagine. To imagine retribution for those who would never be dealt it—at least, not from your inconsequential hand. 

But this time, your mere imagination would not be enough.

For the last month, a clique of obnoxious coworkers had been harassing you nonstop, stewing in jealousy after your recent promotion. Day after day, they’d tried to break your spirit, and day after day, they inched closer to success. The thinly veiled barbs, harsh criticisms, and shameless attempts to steal your work were eating away at you, no matter how vividly you imagined retaliating in the safety of your mind, dissolving each perpetrator to dust for their needless hostility. 

The dam broke the day they’d found your weak spot, launching a full-on attack on you. Not your skill, not your work, but the unchangeable traits that already kept you awake at night, wishing you could be something greater. Your shyness, your weakness, your simple approach to the world—everything that made you who you were, they’d picked apart.

You don’t recall how you’d gotten home that day—only the wings of a crow fluttering above you as you floated down the familiar streets on autopilot. You’d stepped through the door withdrawn nearly into catatonia, recoiling from sounds and flinching from touches. 

Sylus hadn’t liked that. 

After years of lonely independence—not what you’d chosen but all you could handle—you’re still adjusting to relying on someone else to preserve your honor. Especially when that person has everything you lack: an imposing form, an authoritative voice, effortless assurance, and unrivaled strength. 

Sylus can make your hypotheticals—your unfulfilling, pathetic hypotheticals—into reality. Without lifting a finger, without breaking a sweat. 

So when you return to his home in a shell of dejection, drained of the life you’d graciously breathed into his, that’s precisely what he plans to do.

Someone had upset you—terribly so. The moment he’d claimed you, held your trembling, uncertain form in his, he’d set a very high price for that.

In the back room of Onychinus’s main warehouse, your body tremors in anticipation. Tonight, your defenses are more than psychological. Tonight, for the first time, you’ll know the intoxicating security of capability. 

As you wait for Sylus’s cue, your mind wanders to the aftermath of that day. Once you’d come back to him, looked into his eyes with something more than blankness, he’d approached you. Gathering you into his arms, he’d asked what’d happened—who’d happened—pressing sweet kisses to your temple and lips whenever your voice would break. 

He’d holed up in his office after he’d seen you to bed, compiling all the information he could find—a lot, with his resources—on the three men who’d tormented you. Their names, addresses, roles in the company, aspirations—anything that’d be useful in luring them to his turf. 

And now, he’s asked you to stay out of sight and wait for his signal as he lulls his suspects with the false promise of a good deal. 

Just as you feel the familiar impulse to flee threaten your resolve, a too-realistic caw and the steady flaps of metal wings snap you out of your thoughts. As the omnipresent crow lands on your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek in programmed affection, you walk slowly to the heavy door, steeling yourself before sliding it open. 

In the dim light of the square room, you feel his presence before you see him, his cool authority drawing you to him like a magnet. You come to a soft stop behind his chair, draping one arm over his shoulders, the other on his chest, as he introduces you as his partner. And with a tense, shuddering breath, you tighten your grip on him as you raise your eyes to meet the men who’d nearly broken you. 

Apparently, though, your true reunion has been put on hold, as their careless eyes are busy ogling your body in proprietary glee. 

When Sylus clears his throat, they seem to remember where they are and who they’re with, and three pairs of eyes finally deign to meet yours. Almost immediately, those eyes flicker in recognition, the faces of their owners blanching with nerves.  

And that reaction is the smoking gun—the only evidence Sylus needs to enact their damnation. 

In an instant, crimson ropes with black undertones snake around the men’s immobilized bodies, suspending them in midair before inching up to muffle the groans that catch in their rigid throats. 

Rising from his seat, Sylus bends to kiss your forehead before blocking your view with his back. “Don’t peek, sweetie,” he hums as he extends one large hand, dancing his index finger in a line of X’s. As he moves, hundreds of tiny, twisting cuts appear around each man’s neck, their countless wounds dripping with thin streams of blood. 

Completing his design, he clenches his fist, and the ropes tighten to drain their prey at a much greater volume. 

A few seconds later and he drops his hand, the men’s half-emptied, half-alive bodies hitting the floor in one simultaneous thud. 

From behind the broad panes of Sylus’s back, you're not supposed to see his carnage, the way his victims can’t even beg him for mercy with the blood clogging their windpipes. 

But with your hands on his narrow waist, supporting you as you peek around him in disobedience, the image of what he’s done for you and its surprisingly comfortable weight settle on your now relaxed shoulders. 

It’s not the mess on the floor, but the principle of his actions—the urgency with which he moved to avenge his own.

You want to thank him. You want to worship him. 

Oblivious to the desire thrumming in your heart, Sylus finally turns around, ready to usher you out of the room. When he reaches for you, though, you intercept his arm, panting softly up at him with wide eyes.

Mistaking your expression as terror, he moves to step back, but you shake your head vehemently and tug him toward you, your feet firmly rooted in place on the tiled black floor. 

Wordlessly, you paw frantically at his shirt and belt—anything that can come off—with your usually nimble fingers trembling and clumsy from the rush of energy in your veins. 

As you manage to undo the first button of his shirt, realization dawns on his face, lightening his stormy garnet eyes in a mix of shock and relief. 

“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” he breathes, his large hand covering yours on his buttons and freezing your advances momentarily. 

With an impatient huff, you look up at him and open your mouth in protest, but he speaks before you can. 

“For a moment, I thought I'd made you fear me again,” he admits with a shaky chuckle. “Evidently I was wrong, and although I'm glad to know that…are you sure you want to do this here, sweetie?” he checks, peering down at you with a searching gaze. 

Finding your voice, you use his loosened shirt to pull him down to your height, caressing his chiseled jaw in your hand. “I want you to take me. Here, in front of all of them. I want them to watch the man who’ll take their lives take my heart in his hands. Will you do that for me?”

He’ll do anything for you. 

And so, softly maneuvering your body, Sylus repositions you to stand in front of him and angles your gaze to the reflective steel ceiling, not allowing the filth on the floor to enter your line of sight. He supposes they can look at you—it won’t matter for much longer, anyway—but he refuses to let you look at them any longer, to let your intimacy be tainted by the memories of what they’d done. 

Slowly, he trails his unoccupied hand down to grope your full breasts, humming in approval when he feels your pebbling nipples. Pinching your right peak softly, he murmurs into your left ear, surrounding you on all sides. “You like what I’ve done, I presume? Are you pleased with me?” 

Moaning softly, you arch back into him, pushing your chest further into his welcoming hand. Tilting your head back as far as his iron grip allows, you turn your face to brush his cheek as his fingers continue working your aching nipple. “It’s not what you’ve done to them,” you breathe against him, “it’s what you’ve done for me.” 

With another moan, you rock your hips back between his legs, feeling the sizable bulge that grows harder with each reaction you give him. 

With the strength in his one free hand, the other still aiming your gaze toward the ceiling, he tears the front of your flimsy dress open, your breasts spilling out in smooth bounces. 

Sylus groans deeply at the visual, his palm coming up to grope and knead your tender flesh between his calloused fingers. 

“Tell me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the pulse in your neck. “How should I take you, hmm? Hard and fast, so they know I pace you, or slow and deep, so my love is clear?”

Leaving your breast with a last tug at your nipple, he lowers his hand to dip his fingers under the hem of your exposed panties, gliding between your glistening folds. Extending two long digits, he slips them into your fluttering entrance, sliding in and out with ease from the intensity of your arousal. 

As he pumps his fingers inside you, your walls clenching around him in search of something larger, you’re barely able to formulate a response. Luckily, your answer is simple.

“Everything,” you moan to him. “Everything you can give me—I want it all.” 

With a rumbling groan, Sylus gives you a final deep thrust with his fingers, dragging them inside your walls to collect all of your essence. Pulling them out of you with a wet pop, he swiftly sticks them in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits as he savors your taste. Standing up on your toes, you push your mouth to his, slipping your tongue past his lips to steal what’s left of your flavor. A string of saliva connects you as you part, only snapping when Sylus shifts to free the heavy bulge from his straining slacks. 

Mewling, you try to push your hips back, desperately searching for whatever friction you can find. But with a light tap to your hip, he holds you in place, thwarting your attempt to bring him closer. “Be patient for me, won’t you?” he asks. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long—surely you’ll let me lead?”

And although you’ve vowed against letting anyone lead you, letting anyone take charge of you lest you get burned, you remember the power he’d gifted you only an hour ago, the writhing bodies still littering the floor behind you. His grand display of care, devotion, and understanding. Without a second thought, you find yourself nodding frantically in his embrace, his hand on your jaw briefly loosening with the force. 

With a soft, unnecessary apology, you still, allowing yourself to fall pliant in his hands. Against your ear, you feel his lips curl into a smile.

“Eyes up,” he whispers as he sinks into you.

The intrusion is slow, and thanks to the wetness leaking out of you, you suction in his oversized length with only a slight discomfort. With a gentle push, he fully seats himself inside you, and you both release a breathy moan—yours at the wholeness, his at the tightness.

After one sublime moment, your bodies almost merged with your closeness, he pulls out slowly, leaving just the head of his shaft inside you before surging forward in an all-encompassing thrust. Mouth falling open, you unconsciously tilt your hips back to meet him, and he growls his approval. 

“I’ll give you everything,” he rumbles with another deep thrust. “Everything you want, everyone you want it done to—that’s my promise to you,” he vows, biting your ear. “Not a single being will harm you without paying the price—the price they pay as they look up at us with their last glances, wishing with all they have left to be in my place instead.” 

As he speaks, he quickens his measured strokes into powerful snaps of his hips—pacing you, just as he’d said. His promise and his movements are all too much, and you feel a sweet ache start to spread within your lower belly. 

Trying and failing to match his bruising thrusts, you babble out your admiration, the words that have circled your brain since he’d first told you his plans. 

“Thank you,” you pant, drawing in shuddering breaths. “I-I know I shut down on you sometimes, but I’m not used to having someone to care for me—having someone who can. I’ve only ever protected myself, a-and only ever in my head. I’m not strong enough, or assertive enough, to do anything you do for me and I love you so much for it—love you so much that I’m jealous of you, and it only makes me love you more,” you finish with a whimper. 

At your confession, Sylus grips your hip in his hand and fucks into you with renewed fervor, jostling every part of your body but your head, still securely angled toward the sky. The pounding starts a quake in your legs, and you slump into his strong chest, entrusting yourself to him as he pushes you both over the edge. With a few more sharp thrusts and a stinging bite on your neck, he spills into you in thick, hot spurts, and the sensation has you gushing around him. With an unrestrained cry, you dig your nails into his arm, and he presses impossibly closer to you.

“However much you think you love me, know that it hardly compares to the obsession I feel towards you.” 

As you’re lost in the pleasure of your joint release, murky red and black wisps coil around the figures twitching on the floor, enshrouding them in an eerie haze. With near inaudible crackles, they erode the forgotten flesh of their targets, twisting and curling, bending and snapping, until the floor is cleared of sin. 

Sylus, who’d captured your attention with a devoted kiss in the comedown of your orgasm, slowly releases you once his work is done. Breathless, you hover near his mouth, eager to ask for more, when you notice his firm grip has left your jaw—you’re free to look as you please. 

With his length still inside you, pulsing softly and coated with your combined essence, you twist in his arms, expecting the lifeless shapes on the floor to sully the peace of the moment, to resurface the desolation in you that'd led to their demise. 

But as you peer down at the shiny black tiles, you see nothing but yourselves—a smaller figure entwined in the consuming embrace of a much larger one.

“How do you feel?” a deep voice purrs into your ear. Craning your neck to look at its pleased owner, you sensually press yourself back, burying his already hardening length deeper into its nest. With a soft smile, you claim his lips in an unhurried kiss, tender and reverent and lewd.

When you pull away, he splays a possessive hand over your abdomen. He rests his chin atop your head as he resumes his pumps in and out of you, gradually quickening his controlled movements. 

Fluttering your eyes closed, you breathe in with contentment. The air around you has grown a little lighter with the deletion of those who’d dared to waste it.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: tkdb boys that would wrap themselves up and say they're your gift

COMMENTS: my first recycled twst prompt...i do not know some of these characters very well so i very much apologize if they are ooc falls over. i am COPING.

Leo is perched on the edge of your bed, staring down at you with that cat-like smirk on his face. You blink, confused, taking in the sight of him wrapped in shiny yellow ribbon with his phone in his hand. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you ask if this is another one of his stupid internet trends. He laughs, calling your face dopey before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and tugging you out of bed, decidedly dodging your question.

Towa, tangled up in the most obnoxious ribbons you have ever seen, throws himself into your arms the second you enter Jabberwock. You nearly fall flat on your butt but steady yourself, his giggles and happy noises calming your racing heart. He pulls away, only slightly, before wrapping a ribbon around your neck, being so gentle as he ties it off in a beautiful bow. There, now you’re matching!

Romeo thinks there must be no better gift than him. He doesn’t go the full nine yards, only typing a red ribbon to his wrist and holding his hand out for you to kiss when you walk into the room. Give him the royal treatment you basic bitch, he will not ask twice! It is an honor to serve him, after all. 

Zenji doesn’t really know if he has gotten too carried away or not. He doesn’t really have a way to wrap himself up in ribbons for you, so instead, he weaves the ribbons into a mat, on which a love letter for you rests. The look on your face when you enter the room tells him that yes, you love it and him, for your eyes are already so soft just at the sight of him. He pushes the letter towards you eagerly, thankful that he doesn't need to rest as he spent hours writing out his emotions just for you.

Rui sees you walk into the bar and immediately slaps one of those gift wrapping bows on his head. He wiggles his eyebrows at you and soaks himself in the laughter that follows. He wishes he could lean over the counter and kiss you, steal your breath away, but he can’t. So instead, he settles for telling you that his gift to you is to be at your service for the whole night, whatever you may so desire.

Edward thinks this situation is rather novel. You find him tied up in various shapes and sizes of multicolored ribbon, a tender smile on his face as he locks eyes with you. You sigh, thankful you got here before Rui did, knowing that poor man has enough on his plate already. Although it’s unclear how Ed even got in this situation in the first place, he does nothing to curb your curiosity or help you untangle him. Truly, he is a grade a weirdo.

[brotherwtf]

As promised, here’s the photo prompt: Gale in a suit on a bed ✨💀 I loved all your ideas in the chat but here be free free reign for you to take and run as you please!

THIS THIS YES YES

anyways, clegan should fuck with clothes on and they're gonna, I'm gonna make them

----

Gale and John didn't have to get dressed up often, and even when they did they would have to wear their dress greens, but there were days where they would have to put on a full suit and tie for the evening.

This was one of those nights, a gala of some sort honoring the veterans that fought in the war, so Gale and John rented tuxedos for the night. Nice, three pieces that hugged their bodies even better than their uniforms. It was a wonder John kept his hands off of Gale for as long as he did.

So when Gale throws himself on the bed, making an obnoxious noise of exhaustion, John finally allows himself to touch.

It doesn't help that Gales also running his hands up and down his body, wrapping a hand around his neck and groaning about how tired he is, needs help taking his clothes off. Which John, of course, jumps on the opportunity.

"Come on, John. Come lie down with me I'm exhausted," Gale groans, and huffs when John dips the bed with his knees.

He brackets Gale's hips with his knees, bending down and placing kisses and bites on the sliver of Gale's neck not covered by the collar of his shirt. Gale huffs, running his hands down John's side and bunching in the material around his hips. He pulls him up until he's breathing over John's lips, making breathy sounds as John runs his hands up to Gale's neck.

"Could barely keep my hands off of you, doll. Fuck, just look at you," John says, pressing Gale's face until it tilts back towards the mirror on their vanity.

It's a delicious sight, both of them fully clothed, Gale clutching at John's clothes desperately while John holds him down, hair already slightly dishevelled from Gale's hands. Gale moans at the sight and looks back up at John, surging forward to connect their lips.

Gale's kissing like he's desperate, immediately fucks his tongue between John's lips and making breathy sounds. John slides his hands down Gale's chest and flips the buttons to his jacket open, pulling Gale's shirt until it's untucked and he can creep his hand underneath to touch the burning hot skin. Gale keens high into John's mouth at the touch, grinding his hips up into John's.

"What do you want darling? Come on, ask for it," John says, groaning when Gale grinds against his hips.

Gale turns his head, hands finding Johns hair as he groans gently.

"Want it just like this, please, touch me John," Gale pleads.

He doesn't seem to know where to put his hands, alternating between shoving them in John's hair and running them down his arms. John eventually takes them and pins them on either side of his head, devouring his lips again.

He shifts his hips until their hips are aligned and he grinds their cocks together, groaning at the added sensation of the clothing on them. It makes Gale moan breathily into his mouth, grinding his hips up off the bed back against John's hips.

"Like this, darling?" John whispers, tucking his face into Gale's neck to press more kisses to his pulse point.

Gale moans high in his throat, nodding and clutching onto John's suit jacket, grinding his hips harder into John's.

They've never done it like this before, John likes to take his time undressing Gale and see him fall apart under his hands, likes to leave marks all over his body so Gale can press his finger into them and be reminded who made them.

But even like this, with only a sliver of Gale's neck visible, John can feel himself barreling towards and orgasm, just from their hips grinding together.

John comes with a groan into Gale's neck, lacing their fingers together as he huffs. Gale doesn't follow too far behind, keening high in his throat, nudging his nose against John's cheek.

"We ruined our suits," Gale mutters, and John huffs out a laugh.

[kalied0skull]

Soda x dally?

DALLYPOP AAWGHH.

inboxing still btw ... BUT !

dallypop is fun only in concept unfortunately. in terms of canon universe, i really don't think they'd have much of any chemistry, let alone much of a romance unless sandy was out of the picture entirely

i do REALLY admire them though, having said that — but like i said, more in concept less in actual theory

dallas and soda are flame to flame, they're drunk on alcohol & drunk on life. they're the loudest voices in the room, they're cowboy boots and dirty hands getting sticky residue everywhere.

they're BOYS. they share that same love for a rodeo, they sit in the back of beaten up trucks and listen to loud music. they throw shit out the windows, they love hard, they entertwine roughly and never let go of each other because that buzz of eternal LIGHT keeps them flowing together.

when i think of dallypop, i quite literally think of a fire and lightning. they're fast moving, they share the same energy, they're just a bit TOO similar in terms of hype. they fight, they cuss, they pull at each other's hair and kick like dogs. they're two unleashed dogs on the streets.

when they're low and quiet, they're both giggly. they're both staring at each other with stupid grins as their blonde hair connect and mix white with honey yellow as they cling to each other. they can't SEPARATE. they can't be anything below a whisper because the energy that glitters around them is always too much to handle.

soda sees dallas and he sees a fighting spirit, he sees a guy who spits at the ground to show he wants a fight and smokes cigarettes and cusses hard. he sees a daring boy with a heater in the back of his pants hidden under his leather jacket, he sees the rings on his fingers and the way they flash everytime he throws a punch. he sees a light he wants to chase.

dallas sees soda and he sees something he wants — happiness without the drugs. he sees a busy bee who's jumping around one crowd to the next, he sees a charming grin with a mischievous twinge to it because he knows soda's got a trick under his sleeve, he sees that happy curtis brother who's beautiful and damning who's got a cut to him that makes him painfully curious about what's behind that mask of a model-perfect smile.

they're dirt under nails and blood leaking from busted noses, they're messy and loud and obnoxious and full of the energy of a thousand suns and someone PLEAAAASE SEPARATE THEM BEFORE THEY GO OFF ROBBING ANOTHER MAN OF HIS ENTIRE CAR !!!

they're troublemakers, your honor. partners in crime. :D

[billwasnot]

hello!! I'd love to know more about stasya (your alnst sona) if it's okay with you!!

I took so long answering this that the polls already started. Oopsie

Anyway

So, first of all, here's Stasya's updated contestant profile, which I couldn't get out in time for the competition, but it exists

And here are their designs for various ages with some notes

Plus additional written info under the cut

Stasya facts:

• They grew up on a forested planet with lots of waterfalls, rivers and lakes

• Their owner's house was basically out in the countryside, considerably far away from any other residents

• Before Anakt, they have never met another human, only seeing them in pictures or videos

• Really, really, really doesn't want to be human

• Bad at bonding with people

• Part of it is them intentionally putting distance (they're all here for ALNST. People will die. It will hurt less if you aren't as close)

• Part of it is them feeling really disconnected from other humans (due to growing up in isolation from other humans + natural quirks)

• Sometimes it feels like they're closer to Segyein staff than to other students

• But they are friendly to (almost) everyone

• They rarely initiate contact but happily interacted with others when asked to

• Consistently act as more outgoing than they actually are, especially right before and during the competition

• Nerd. Competitive nerd at that. They're obnoxious

• Excellent grades, never lower than top 3 in any given subject

• They LOVE water and swimming

• They float face down in bodies of water to decompress

• Canonically trans! Transitioned in late teens (participated in some sort of competition with a monetary prize, owner reinvested it back into them)

• Afraid of death

• Also a furry. This one is Solei's (@solei-eclipse) fault. Bc before that they had NO IDEA of terran animals existing

• Their name tattoo is on the back of their right hand. They have very low pain tolerance, but their owner convinced them to get it there (for aesthetic reasons), which they did under anesthesia

Their owner is Guardian Photyne

Photyne facts:

• Relatively young

• Lonely

• Got Stasya from an unregulated backyard breeder on impulse

• Treats Stasya as an emotional support pet

• Saw Stasya's talents and decided to make them famous as a get rich quick scheme

• Places a lot of their personal troubles on Stasya's shoulders

• Poor compared to many other owners

• Doesn't want Stasya to actually die, has a poor understanding of risks involved

Stasya's opinion on their guardian:

• Family

• Wants to be like them (literally)

• No, really, they want to be the same species as Photyne

• Considers Photyne's dependence on them honorable, appreciates it

• These two have awful personal boundaries. Codependent.

• Which is why Stasya readily agrees to sacrifice years of their life and risk death for Photyne

• Doesn't handle separation well (early years of Anakt were hell)

• Gets progressively disillusioned, but never really falls out of love

• Feels like their devotion is never returned in kind, that their guardian's affection is conditional

• If Photyne really loved Stasya, would they send the human to a certain death?

• Deep down wants Photyne to save them, spare them of all this

That's more kr less it, I guess

[ontoilogical]

Social Etiquette, Aylin and Isobel

I have this general tendency to write main characters as too wise. As if they're privy to the situation the way the writer is. I know why I do this – because it's frustrating to write and read characters making obvious mistakes when the knowledge is available to you. Suppose the trick is to write so the reader knows as much as the characters, and then the plot eventually reveals the truth. In other words, make the mistakes less obvious...?

I'm thinking about social etiquette and how Aylin and Isobel handle it – individually and together. And in my perfect scenario, Aylin is too direct and too much for most, but handles it well and concedes the loss of many a company and exchanges because of it (her being Selune's daughter doesn't help, either). Isobel, meanwhile, balances this perfect combination of diplomatic politeness and her characteristic amusing wit. Together, Aylin is a doer and a motivator for others to do, a guiding light so bright it overwhelms you, but if you manage to stay a while, it's an experience you'll never forget, while Isobel handles the logistics, the finer details and communication to the goal of enabling them to do their task, and you see her as a very reasonable, smart and easy to talk to person.

Isobel never feels embarrassed for anything Aylin does (including talking about their love life – Isobel is not shy, nor reserved), she doesn't correct Aylin any time she's too much – at most she may give a gentle suggestion, or even better, redirect away from the contentious situation, and if someone is stupid enough to try and conspiratorially gossip Aylin to Isobel – the measured one you can confide in – she will cut you with words so elegantly you'll feel shame over it for the rest of your living days. In turn, Aylin would know how to recognize and cut through excessive politicking and manipulation, in moments when it becomes a bit too much for Isobel or someone is so obnoxious that Isobel gets caught in the opaque web of trying to socially outmaneuver each other.

Most of the time, people are in awe of Aylin, while making easy work friends with Isobel, who they generally find much more approachable, even though Aylin is quicker to approach others, to greater frequency. Such is her direct way. People whose communication style is indirect cannot handle Aylin, because she will be too frank with them, including in calling them out in a way they didn't expect, because they falsely assumed loudness means inability to see the nuances of communication. If someone nice ever expressed the desire to talk with Aylin but felt too intimated to, Isobel would help the matter gently, feeling genuinely touched to witness the exchange as it progresses, her darling happy and in conversation. Not that Aylin needs it. Aylin is good with people, it's just a matter of needing more time for people to figure it out, than is usually afforded due to the transient nature of their stays.

I imagine it would take a very bold person to proposition either of them, or both of them, as they are Very Together and such impressive ladies, so I'll leave the matter dormant for now, although it amuses me to think about it.

Now... Neither of them were born this well adjusted. These are all skills and knowledge that came from discovering, knowing and managing yourself over time... as well as living, growing, learning and actively honoring the relationship you're in. This is them after all that has already happened, so if we're to look at their past, there's a lot to work with.

Isobel's wit creating a diplomatic incident. Young Aylin feeling awkward and lonely for not being socially included in the in-group. Isobel being too agreeable and peacemaking (bonus points if Ketheric is involved). Aylin trying to brute-force her inclusion and getting frustrated as it fails, and then opting to withdraw from others and into her duties instead. Them being freshly together and not knowing each other very well yet, and negotiating and discovering that space.

As I said, I'm still in the somewhat idealized but not easy to maintain stage of them, as they have a lot to work through post-game, but as I get a better feeling for both of them, and feel confident in my conclusions, these things begin to enter my ideas and plots.

Onwards.

[saxandviolins77]

Would you be open to talking about your process and art style a little bit? It's so impressive how you use shapes in your art in this expressive and non-naturalistic way ~arceespinkgun

Of course!

I started drawing Transformers in early 2023 but only started posting at the end of said year, aaand this is going to sound a little embarrassing and VERY self-defeating, but... my art sucked. A lot. No use saying otherwise. I had a really hard time adapting my style to drawing mecha (or at least robot-shaped people), and the fact that I had a really rough transition to using a drawing tablet didn't help (I used to draw using the trackpad, my finger, or just traditionally).

Most of the art I'll use here will be old, since that represents my capabilities at the time better than my old Transformers art does. It's also an honor for y'all because I purged all my art from my socials way back in 2022, ahahaha.

I'm self-taught, so most of my explanation is vibes-based. If a professional artist were to read this, they'd hurl in agony.

First off. My thought process behind how I draw things... I really like drawing things flat.

That's it, basically. When I draw, I try my best to show the least possible volume, and even when I show volume, I still think of it as a flat shape (it's psychological). This applies when I think about faces (the flattened facial features thing I talked about a few months ago). I think about shapes as 2D planes stacked on top of each other rather than shapes existing in a 3D space. You see this when I draw Hook's nose when he's facing forward; I keep the dorsal hump. Or when I draw side views (I LOVE drawing side views), this was actually inspired by Mickey Mouse's ears and how they're always facing forward, so he can always have his iconic marketable silhouette. I thought it was genius at the time.

Some of my main inspirations are UPA animated shows (put Clone High here too), Bruce Timm's character designs for Freakazoid and BTAS, phase one Gorillaz art (that's Jamie Hewlett), Rebecca Sugar's work on SU, and Vernon Grant's magazine covers. I also have been getting into medieval art, so let's see how that'll turn out

Things I try to avoid like a plague are thick line art and organic shapes. If I'm going to draw a square, it needs to be a polygonal shape, not just a suggestion of a square shape (this sounds confusing, ik).

Here's some art from March 2021 and how I'd approach it today. I had a somewhat distinguishable art style, but it still needed polishing and a clear vision of what I wanted to do. I kept it a very unpolished sketch so you can see a little bit of my thought process when I draw (and because I'm lazyyyyy). Notice how I try to do singular lines and defined shapes anywhere I can. Also, a stronger line of action and silhouette—silhouettes were/are a very weak spot of mine.

Around 2022, I had already hit a very nice spot with my art.

Ignore just how stiff my poses were and the awful proportions (eugh), but see how I push the shapes and the obnoxiously thin line art. I did change my rendering to be gradient-based instead of this vector shading approximation. I like both, though.

It's not JUST about having an angular style; it's about the flow and consistency of the strokes. I really like this little doodle from 2023, made almost entirely out of curves, BUT they are DEFINED curves. That's the thing.

My current process consists of: rough drawing (gesture) -> sketch -> clean sketch -> line art -> flats. When I'm feeling fancy, I render it using gradients.

Some things I really improved in 2024-2025 were the same-face syndrome, drawing detail, HANDS, and 3D shapes + perspective. Still haven't gotten over my hangups with drawing lineless art... IT LOOKS BAD WHEN I DO ITT.

[mellifluousprince]

in progressive spaces there are so many unique, personable expressions of what it means to be a woman, and how girlhood is this beautiful open ended thing that everyone has their own definition of. I think it's wonderful to see women bond over their shared experiences & find companionship in each other as a result. meanwhile, what it means to be a man is essentially getting pigeonholed into this idea of being some violent, sex-obsessed beast; both by obnoxious men who keep pushing the whole alpha male manosphere garbage, and by women who see that trend & then view all men that way, ascribing every man with the label of a monster in order to protect themselves. there's nowhere else you can go. if you try to strike out on your own and define masculinity in your own way, in the eyes of everyone else you just fade into obscurity. it's like you don't even exist. the worst part is, it feels like i'm the only one who wants masculinity to have a broader meaning. so many other men i know want so badly to live up to this ridiculous ideal being forced on them. meanwhile i've known my whole life that i'll never be an "alpha male", because i don't want to be. but even if you don't subscribe to all the manosphere stuff and live your life free of those toxic expectations, as long as you're a man you'll only be thought of as bland and uninteresting. Women are seen as these inherently ethereal gorgeous beings(they're not, they're just people and saying this just further pressures them into feeling like they need to be attractive objects, but that's a different post), and men are either monsters or...nobodies. "Just some guy". John Doe. If that's what you want, then that's all well and good. But is that really all there is to being a man? when you strip away all of those preconceived notions about how men should look or behave or be seen by others, then what is masculinity, really? ideally, it should be the same as femininity in the sense that it's whatever you want it to be. you can see yourself in a traditional sense, as a proud, strong warrior who fights for honor & protects and provides for his loved ones, or a more non-traditional way, a demure prince who waits calmly for a princess or knight or other lover to sweep him off his feet. you can romanticize yourself as anyone you want: a hardworking scholar who wants to learn as much as he can or improve the world around him, a powerful athlete who lives for the joy of sport, an early-bird baker who embraces the quiet life, an iron-willed blacksmith who endures the forge to arm his brothers and sisters, a singer who lends his strong voice to uplifting the oppressed, a warm-hearted husband and/or father who has so many good wishes for others. sky's the limit. i understand why women often put men in a box and view men the way that they do. if you don't know a man's intentions, it's safer to lead with distrust. but i know in my heart that i would never hurt anyone like that, and so i don't want my personal sense of masculinity to be defined by those men who do such horrid things. i don't think any man should personally feel like their masculinity is synonymous with being a monster. i think they should burn the manosphere to the ground and just find the answer themselves. what's manlier than that? someday i hope people will feel comfortable enough to no longer think of masculinity as this stagnant, unmoving collection of violent, angry traits. i want it to be sought after and romanticized the same way femininity often is; as another equally glorious representation of what it means to be human.

[a1307s]

Flickers of Green #2

(Dick Grayson & Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to fish-goat]

Requested by: quirkyshortdumbo11

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6,214

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Cursing

Mentions of Death

———————————————————————

I walk out of the abandoned building, the sounds of my gunshot and the now-dead drug lord's screaming still ringing in my head.

Nowadays it seems that these sounds comfort me more than Bruce ever could. Fucking Bruce. I hate him. I hate Batman. I hate the Joker. I hate myself for letting Y/N die. For dragging her to her death. For not being able to save her. For me being the one that's alive.

I can't let guilt cloud my mind right now. It's hard to kill someone as you're feeling guilty for causing the death of someone else. I need something to clear my head, something to reset myself. Coffee should help, it always did when I was originally alive.

I glance around, trying to get my wits together and figure out where the nearest coffee shop is. I tug my phone out of my jacket, taking a glance at the time. Nine thirty-two. Late but not too late, except for coffee. I don't know if anywhere with a decent cup of Joe will be open. I don't need that watered-down bean soup shit they serve at gas stations.

Pamela's cafe will be open. They're always open. I don't want to go there though. The last thing I need is more memories of Y/N.

I do a quick Google search, hoping to find any other cafe open, but I don't. I don't need coffee, but I do need something to eat and a donut sounds so good right now. I can't even remember what a donut tastes like. I'll just have to eat my feelings alongside the donut then.

I pull up Google Maps, glancing over it quickly before heading towards the cafe. The plus side of Pamela's is that the staff is pretty chill with anything; heroes, villains, and citizens alike.

It seems that in the past couple of years, the girls on staff have been adopted by some of the villains. I see Ivy, Scarecrow, and Harley coming and going from there a lot.

When I was at the Iceberg Lounge - aka Penguin's bar, strip club, and not-so-underground business - he mentioned that he "keeps up" on the girls and pays some of their tuition. He also mentioned there's a new girl that started a couple of months ago and that she's "a feisty little one that doesn't fear shit". That coming from Penguin is a bit of an honor. Not many people can get a compliment like that from him.

Maybe I'll meet this feisty new girl tonight. Maybe I'll take her home. I could use the distraction. However, I don't usually end up doing anything with them when I do get them home. I usually just lose my shit cause it's not the same as it was with Y/N.

I switch between being mad and being indifferent about being unable to move on from her. She died only ever loving me, why can't I live only ever loving her?

The neon lights of the cafe cut into my line of sight along with cutting through my thoughts. I forgot how obnoxious all the neon was. Standing right outside the cafe is Penguin and a young girl. She's in the 50s dinner uniform Pamela's staff wears. She's also wrapped up in a fancy-looking coat.

I feel half bad for the girl. If she's working at a cafe, she can't afford a coat like that, which means it's from the Penguin. It's never good for anyone - much less a young girl - to be in debt to Penguin.

My pace slows as I approach them. "Come on Feisty, just let me pay for your courses. Then you wouldn't have to work so much."

"No, I'm good. I don't mind supporting myself." The girl's voice is soft but firm as she speaks. Maybe she isn't as stupid as I thought.

"Listen here you little bitch-"

"No, you listen here you fucking flightless bird," the girl yells back, causing a bit of laughter to brew in my chest. "I already told you I don't want your money and unlike most of the other girls, I don't owe you shit so back off."

"And if I don't?" He asks, starting to turn the head on his cane. Under the head is usually a knife that Penguin is known to use on people when he doesn't get his way.

The girl yanks the cane away before any damage can be done, causing shock in both the bird and me. "If you don't I'll stab you to death with your own cane. Go back to your dumb pimp square." Penguin stands there for a second, just staring at the girl before he walks away mumbling to himself. His wobble is more present than usual now that he doesn't have his cane to support him. The club owner wasn't kidding about this girl not being scared of anything, or at least she was good at pretending.

Now that the fat man isn't in the way, I'm able to see the girl he was talking to. As my eyes scan over her my mind both empties and explodes. Standing in the neon lights is the spitting image of Y/N, which is impossible... because she's dead.

Or is it? I'm technically dead and yet here I am. But if she was alive, she would have looked for me, right? Like I did for her? She would at least be at the manor, right? Bruce would take her back in or at the very least Dick would... right? Or maybe she didn't want to go back to them. Maybe she's mad at them too.

Y/N - I think it's her - turns on her heels, heading down the road. I need to follow her. If she is my Y/N I need to know. I need to be a hundred percent certain. At the very least, if it's not Y/N I should still watch the girl get home safe after she disagreed with Penguin.

What if it's not Y/N? What if it is? What if this is a trap? Is Al Ghul fucking with my head again? Did he set this up to trap me back within the League? Even if he did, I need to know what's going on. Just in case it is a trap, I stay hidden. I'll have the element of surprise if shit does go south.

I follow this girl, not paying much attention to where she's going but making sure to keep pace with her. If it is my Y/N I can't lose her again from careless mistakes.

My mind runs a mile a minute as I trail her. I need answers, I need to hold her, I need her to be Y/N.

Maybe-Y/N turns, making my heart race. Fear of losing her around the corner mixes with the joy of a split second of light enveloping her.

I catch a glimpse behind her ear. When we were twelve, right before Bruce took us in, we thought it would be a good idea to give each other stick-and-poke tattoos. We tattooed each other's names behind our ears. My name is there, behind her left ear, in my chicken scratch handwriting. It has to be her. There's no way Al Ghul could know about that. I don't even think Bruce knows about our matching tattoos.

My pace quicks as I slide around the corner after her. I need her. I need to tell her I'm here. I need - it's a trap.

Hands land on me, throwing me to my right. My boots slide against the gravel on the sidewalk, aiding in me losing my balance. I fall hard, harder than the Roman Empire.

On my way down, my helmet comes into contact with a trash can. The noise echoes within my disguise, promising to give me a headache.

"What the hell?" I bark, quickly getting back to my feet. I should have known this was too good to be true. I should have known it was a trap. I should have known to pay attention to my surroundings. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Once the sound rattling around my helmet quiets some I'm able to get a grip on my surroundings. Standing in front of me is Dick Grayson in his signature black and blue spandex suit. "Fucking Nightwing," I husk out, shaking my head to get the last of the echoes out.

"Hood," he answers, positioning himself for a throwdown.

From my last run-in with Bruce, it's evident he knows who I am. Despite his attempt to hide it, the Bat was throwing his punches. I'm guessing from the greeting that he didn't share his findings with Dick.

But fine, if a fight is what Nightwing wants, a fight is what he'll get. It shouldn't be difficult to get him down.

I cautiously walk toward him, preparing myself to swing. One easy hit. Just one to knock him down long enough for me to sneak off and find Y/N.

I swing at him, but he ducks. What a little shit. I don't want trouble, I just want to go find - he thinks I'm stalking her. Dick thinks I'm stalking Y/N. Does he know it's Y/N?

"Just move aside, Wing, it's not what you think," I call out louder than I meant to. I throw another punch, trying to get him down again. I don't have time for this. I don't have the want to explain who I am and who I'm chasing after.

Dick needs to get out of my way before I lose Y/N. I can't lose her again. I'd burn the Earth to a crisp before I let that happen.

My thoughts distract me, making me lag as Nightwing tries to sweep my feet out from under me. I almost managed to avoid it but do end up tripping a bit from my late reaction.

"You're a notorious killer chasing after a girl, what else am I supposed to think?" Grayson calls, his cocky attitude present in his words. Well, that answers my question; he doesn't know it's Y/N. Or who I am. Or maybe he does and doesn't want me to know that he's connected to her. I hate the hush-hush behaviors we both inherited from Bruce.

I stumble back, again causing my helmet to come into contact with more metal. I'm definitely going to have a piercing headache for the next couple of hours. Great.

As the object behind me catches my fall, my guns slide across it, reminding me of their presence. If he's not going to go down with physical force, a gunshot sure as hell will work.

Nightwing approaches me, pulling his weapon out from behind his back. He's mumbling, probably answering whoever is on the other end of his coms. Great, I'm going to have to go through Batman too to get to Y/N. If that's the case, so be it. Bruce's name is as good as carved into my bullets if that's what it takes to get Y/N back.

I take Nightwing's distraction as a chance to get the upper hand. Being the asshole I am, I sweep Nightwing's feet out from under him. It's what he deserves and quite good karma. He stumbles back, landing on his back a couple of steps ahead of me.

No time is wasted as I start closing the gap between us. My gun feels heavy in my hand as I pull it out. Richard made his own grave trying to get between Y/N and me again, but that doesn't mean I like laying him in it. I watch as he grabs for one of his sticks as I tower over him. He can try all he wants but it won't stop me; nothing will stop me. Y/N will be safe from him, from Bruce, from the life I dragged her into it.

I level the barrel to his head debating if I should just end it here. It would be quite the message to Batman. "Lady don't!" A young voice screams out.

I glance up to find who else is present but before I can my eyes lock on Y/N. She's rushed and flustered as she races towards me. Before I can stop her, she's shoving the gun up towards the sky. "Don't shoot!" She shouts, her words followed by the sound of the gun going off.

Fear flickers through me before my senses come in. Y/N isn't shot, she can't be, the gun is pointed too high.

She stands in front of me, anger rooted in her eyes as she looks at me. There are flickers of green mixed in with her normal eye color. I take in the rest of her, letting my mind go silent as I look her over. Y/N has a strand of grey mixed in her hair, just like me. She has to be alive because of the Laza pit. She has the same greying hair and recent green added to her eyes, just like me. Mine were caused because of the pit, so hers have to be because of it too, right? Is she suffering from the same side effects I did because of the pit?

"What the fuck is your problem, you daft cow?" Y/N yells, tugging the weapon from my hand before I can stop her. I have to stop myself from laughing at the situation. It's too much like it was when we were younger. Dick and me going toe-to-toe and Y/N swooping in to break us up once again.

"Don't stand there and look dumb at me. What do you think you're doing?" She repeats herself, her attention turning towards the gun.

I shift to point it down, so she doesn't accidentally shoot herself, but she beats me to it. The barrel is pointed at the open pavement between our feet as her hands work on disconnecting the bullets from the gun.

Y/N's fingers look smooth and soft as they work. I want to touch them. I want to hold them in my hands. I want to press kisses into them. I want to touch her. I want to know she's real.

"I..." I start, my mouth feels heavy and suddenly full of cotton. "Hi." The word sounds loud when it tumbles out.

"Hello," Y/N says back, her eyes sparkling. The color I've grown so used to comforts me despite the newly added flickers of green. She's so bright and here and alive.

Her focus stays on me for a beat longer as she hands me back my gun. Our fingers bumping into each other, sending shivers up my spine. She's alive.

I let the feeling envelop me as my eyes switch from her face to staying locked on the shitty tattoo behind her ear. My mind is on overtime, running through a million questions even as Y/N moves up and down in front of me. I can hear her voice as she talks to Dick but it's hard to focus on processing her words.

My eyes snap back up as Y/N stands. She whispers something, the words lost in her uncomfortableness. Am I making her upset? Is Dick? I glance around her to hopefully see what shifted her tone. Since being distracted, Bruce's new Robin has appeared in front of us. Is he making her upset?

Y/N starts walking away, causing panic about losing her to wash over me. Before I can stop myself, I reach out for her, my hand wrapping around her arm to stop her movements. "Let..." I start again, my mouth still feeling dry, and it gets drier as Y/N turns towards me. "Let me walk you home." The words come out quieter than I thought they would.

Her eyes harden as she looks at me and shakes me off of her. "What the fuck is with all you superheroes? Two days ago, I had a frantic Batman shoving hundred-dollar bills into my hand. You have been trailing me for three blocks, you-" So she knows I was behind her? Does she know it's me? Does she not remember Bruce is Batman? What does she remember?

I shake my head again, trying to Etch-A-Sketch the thoughts out of my head. I focus my attention back on Y/N. Her hands are on her hips, her right one popped out. I want to touch her again. I want to put my hands on her hips. I want to feel her between my fingers. I want to feel her warmth against me. I want-

My thoughts are cut off again when Dick starts touching her. "I... Y/N?" Dick says his tone as quiet as mine was. All the love-struck feelings wash out of me and are replaced with anger and jealousy. I don't want him touching her. I should be touching her. She's mine. She's always been mine. What the fuck does Dick think he's doing?

"Good guess," Y/N answers, her figure relaxing some. Does she remember that Grayson is Nightwing? Why does she remember that but not that Bruce is Batman? Does she like him touching her?

"Y/N?" He repeats, his face scrunched up in confusion. He needs to stop touching her before I lose my shit.

Almost as if Y/N can read my thoughts, she shrugs him off and starts walking away again. "That's my name, don't wear it out." Her tune is light and happy, making butterflies flap around my stomach. Nightwing and I stay frozen, watching her slip out of the alleyway before vanishing from our sight.

Dick's attention turns back towards me. His eyes are watery. Apparently, I'm not the only secret Bruce has been keeping from him, how in tune for the bat. "What's next? You going to end up being Jason Todd?" He asks, a sad laugh following. It tinges my heart, almost making me regret being willing to kill him a few minutes ago.

I hum a bit, turning towards the direction Y/N went in as I think about what I'm going to do. I start heading after her before changing my mind. I know she's alive and in town. That's all that matters. It'll be best for her if I back off, give her time to think over the event, and give Dick time to tattle to Bruce so I can see how they'll react. I glance at Nightwing behind me before opening my mouth again, "We both know that Y/N being alive isn't the only secret Bruce Wayne is hiding from the world."

I let the words hang behind me as I walk away. Waiting to go after Y/N also gives me time to think over what I'm going to do. If she doesn't remember parts of her life - if any of it - I don't need to scare her away by coming off too strong.

———————————

My heart jumps around as I walk up the path from the other day. The neon lights are still obnoxious as fuck, but I don't mind. Y/N will be there. I know she will. I've been watching her, keeping tabs on her, getting the hang of her schedule. I know, I know, I know. I sound like a stalker. But it's not stalking. It's... intel collecting.

I know she'll be here. She works until nine-thirty, so unlike the other night, I come in earlier, so I have time to see her. Time to talk to her. I also know they're not too busy at night so the cafe will at least be mostly empty, if not completely deserted.

From my stalk- intel collecting, I know Dick came in earlier to talk to her. I don't know what they talked about though. I don't know if I want to know. It pissed me off seeing Dick with Y/N. Pissed me off seeing him touch her again. Pissed me off seeing the smile that stayed on her face even after she left the cafe for class.

What does Dick think he's doing? I'm not stupid or blind. Hell, even a blind man can see how down-hard Dick is for Y/N. Even when we were younger, he pretty much had hearts in his eyes anytime Y/N was around. She wanted me last time; she'll want me this time too... I think.

The jingle of the bell on the door competes with my heartbeat for space in my ears. Sitting in one of the bar chairs at the coffee island is Y/N. Scarecrow is next to her, helping her with her chemistry homework. I'm not thrilled about this arrangement but at least Y/N is getting the academic help she needs.

"Hello!" Y/N peeps out, sending a smile at me as her attention turns away from Scarecrow. Her eyes soften when she focuses on me. "It's you again."

"It's me again," I mumble, taking slow steps towards her.

Scarecrow stands up, placing himself between Y/N and me. He's always been a small man, even when I was a kid, but he seems even smaller nowadays. "Again?" He asks, trying to look intimidating. He's barely intimidating when he's in his suit, and definitely isn't when he's dressed like a civilian.

"Again," Y/N peeps up, her voice still airy and soft. The same voice that used to whisper sweet nothings into my ear until I fell asleep most nights. "Helmet man here walked me home after I argued with Penguin the other night."

"You got into an argument with Penguin?" Crow asks, turning his attention from me to Y/N. "What did he want?"

"You know, the usual. He wants me in debt to him for another body to do his bidding," She teases a soft smile on her face in an attempt to comfort Crow. Scarecrow shifts around a bit glancing at me a few times.

I step aside, standing next to the skinny man and joining him looking at Y/N. She's so pretty, even out of her style and in the dumb uniform for the cafe. "Can I buy you a coffee?" I ask her, slowly tugging my helmet off as well as making sure the mask under it stays in place. The last thing I need is Scarecrow knowing I'm Jason Todd.

"Look at you, pulling all the guys today," Crow half teases, sending glares my way.

"I guess so," Y/N says, her smile even bigger as she scans over my face. Maybe she does know who I am.

"I have something to deal with. Will you be okay if I leave?" Crow asks, his attention not being pulled from me.

"I'll be fine. I'm pretty confident that I can take him if need be." Y/N giggles at herself, pulling a soft chuckle from Crow as well. He nods at her before turning on his heels and walking off. "What do you want to drink?" She asks, standing up and sliding behind the counter.

"I'll have whatever you're going to have." She hums, starting to make whatever it is she's making. I watch her move around, my eyes drinking in every moment. Memories flow in and out as I watch her. Memories of her hands on me, her lips on me, of her laugh, of her. "What do you think he's off to go do?" I ask, being careful not to call him Scarecrow in case she doesn't know. It would be better if Y/N didn't know; it would be one less person to protect her from.

She hums, her hands working at pouring our drinks out. "He's probably going to go line the fog machines in the Iceberg with fear gas. He gets pretty pissy when Penguin fucks with the staff." So, she does know. Is that good or bad? Probably good in this situation. "Here you go," She murmurs, pushing my cup towards me before walking back around the counter with her drink.

Y/N slides back into her seat, patting the one next to her. I obey, sitting down. Her eyes stay locked on me, the flickers of green swirling around them as she stares. The space is quiet, the only sound being us sipping on our coffees. "Are you stalking me?" She asks, filling in the space and causing me to choke a bit.

My lungs force out a cough in an attempt to counteract my choking. Y/N's eyes stay locked on me, the green standing out as she watches. "I... no?" Why the fuck did that come out as a question? That's pretty counterproductive. "No, I'm not." That's better... maybe.

She hums again, sipping on her coffee as she thinks over my answer. "Defiantly seems like you're stalking me. Most people don't sneak around and follow me all day." Once again silence falls between us. How am I supposed to respond to that?

Y/N sits in silence, enjoying her coffee as she watches me. Even though I know she's suspicious of me, I still find comfort in her gaze. "I don't remember much of my life before six months ago so if I'm supposed to know you, I'm not avoiding you. I just don't know who you are, so you don't need to sneak around me; you just need to talk to me. Well, and be patient please." She says, being the one to break the silence again.

Oh... So, she doesn't know anything. That's... scary. For many reasons. "Is there anything you do remember?" I ask, gently pushing my coffee back and forth between my hands.

"Snip bits of stuff. Though some things have started coming back since I ran into Nightwing and you. Some more came back after my coffee chat with Richard Grayson too."

Don't fucking say his name. Don't say it. You should be saying my name. Should be remembering stuff because of me. Not because of fucking Dick. "Oh ya?" I peep out, glaring ahead of me at the menu instead of focusing my anger on Y/N.

"Mmhmm..." She falls silent, nodding her head back and forth as if she's trying to wiggle her thoughts around. "Helmet man-"

"Red Hood," I say, cutting her off with my correction.

I turn my attention back to her, being met with her eyes already on me. "You're my Jason, right?"

"Ya," I push out, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. The word 'my' repeats nonstop in my head, bouncing around my brain as I try to sort through my feelings of bliss.

"I think I love you," She whispers, her hand dipping back behind her ear to mess with her tattoo.

The bliss is all washed away once the words hit my ears. She thinks she loves me? Does she not remember loving me? Of course not, Y/N doesn't remember anything. Well, at least a small piece of her remembers me. Remembers me enough to know she's supposed to love me and that's good enough. There's enough hope there for me to build on.

"Well, I know I love you," I whisper back, keeping my eyes on her to see her reaction. She's still looking at me, her eyes shining.

She hums a bit, tilting her head as she scans me again. "Can I take your mask off?" Y/N asks, her hands slow and gentle as they slide over my cheeks and come into contact with the mask covering my eyes.

"Ya."

Her fingers are soft as they snap off my mask. The joy drains from me as the warmth from her touch is removed. "Your eyes are green... I remember them being blue," Y/N says, her fingertips soon back on my cheeks.

I can feel my cheeks heating up, both from a blush and the hands present on my skin. "They used to be, now they're green." Y/N hums, running her fingers over my cheekbones before sliding them into my hair. I let my eyes close, soaking in her touches. It's calming, being able to be so close to her again, feeling her touch me again, feeling proof that she's alive. I lean forward a bit, getting close enough to feel Y/N's soft breathing coat my face. "Can..." Asking to kiss her might be a little much right now. Maybe I shouldn't ask.

"Can you what?" Y/N prompts, her hands dropping down to my shoulders.

My eyes snap open and once again they're met with the familiar color and the newly added flickers of green. Why did she only get slivers and mine completely changed color? "Can I take you on a date?" I finally ask, shifting a bit so our noses are touching. God, I want to kiss her. I want to hold her. I want her in every way possible. It's going to kill me having to work back up to that.

"I'd like that, Jason."

Yes. God, yes. "Say my name again," I mumble, rubbing my nose against hers.

"Jason," She whispers, bopping my nose with her own before pulling away from me.

———————————

Butterflies flap around my stomach, threatening to come up in a not-pretty way. My hands shake as I lift one to knock on the door of Y/N's apartment. The knocking feels loud as I do it. Maybe I knocked too loud.

The door swings open soon after, the door frame filling with the image of Y/N. She's dressed up with her hair down to cup her face. "Hi," I breathe out, my eyes drinking her in. She's so pretty, so perfect, so alive.

"Hello," she answers back, her eyes glancing at my hand. "You got me flowers?" Y/N asks, leaning against the door frame.

"Oh ya," I bark out, definitely too loud, as I push the bouquet toward her. I couldn't decide what flowers to get so I ended up getting three different bouquets and had the lady mix them. "Your favorite flowers are orange roses, but I didn't know if you still liked them or not, so I panicked and got more flowers than you probably need or want." That was dumb. Why did I say that? I feel like a thirteen-year-old with his first crush again.

"I still like orange roses," Y/N tells me, taking the flowers from me before walking back through the door. I follow after her, making sure to close the door behind me. Her apartment is small but cozy. There's not much in her home either but I guess that's expected since Y/N doesn't know herself.

There is a small couch and one of those old, bulky, shitty TVs tucked into her living room. The apartment smells nice, like pork and chili pepper. A million different dishes are stacked up around her countertop in the kitchen. "What are you making?" I ask her, sliding my jacket off before laying it on the couch.

"I'm making Pozole. I remember you liking it. Or I think you liked it. Somebody did at least," She mumbles a bit, keeping her attention to the pot on the stove in front of her.

"I like pozole. Alfred and you used to make it for me all the time."

Y/N's eyes light up at my words, making my chest fill with the warmth of joy. I walk into the cramped kitchen, making sure to stay out of her way as I stand in her presence. I watch her like a hawk as she works away, letting the warmth of the stove and the smell of dinner fill the space between us. For the first time in two years, I finally feel okay, finally feel at peace.

"You didn't answer my question the other day," I voice, sliding in closer to her. I want to hold her; I want to wrap my arms around her waist. I debate it for a second. I don't want to scare her off.

"What question?" Y/N asks, glancing at me before turning back to her project at hand.

"Is there anything you remember from our - er - your life?"

Y/N snaps the heat off, continuing to stir the pot as she thinks it over. "There's not a lot I do remember. I'm starting to remember this dude named Wally, I think. I don't know. I'm going to talk to Dick about him tomorrow. I remember a bit about Dick too but not much. I remember a bit about you... about us." Her eyes glance at me, before turning back to our dinner. She picks up some heat absorbers, wrapping them around the pot before setting it on a cutting board on the counter.

She's talking to Dick? About her memories? Or lack thereof, I guess. I don't want her talking to him. What's he going to say to her? What has he already said to her? What ideas is he putting into Y/N's head? Has Dick tried anything with her?

"What do you remember about us?" I ask, trying to push for more information as I try to forget my worried thoughts.

Y/N floats around the kitchen, taking out dishes for our food. My eyes trail her as she moves around the small space. "Umm... I remember us kissing a lot."

I chuckle a bit at that response. We do - did kiss a lot. We did other things a lot too. "Ya, ya we kissed a lot. We were very... touchy." Y/N giggles a bit as she makes our plates. My eyes keep glancing from her face to her hips. I really want to touch her. Before I can stop myself, I push off the counter I'm leaning on and wrap her up in me. My hands are firm on her hips and her back is pressed into my chest as I bury my head into her neck.

Y/N stiffens a bit in my hold before relaxing her muscles again. "We danced a lot too," I mumble into her neck, softly shifting her hips so we can sway together. She sways with me, her body weight feeling so good against mine. "You liked to read out loud to me too."

"Do you not know how to read?" She teases, shifting in my hold so we're face to face.

"I know how to read, I just read too slow for your liking."

"Oh ya?"

"Absolutely not, I just like your voice," I answer, lifting my head from her neck and placing our noses next to each other.

Y/N's hands slide up my arms, resting on my shoulders. "Our favorite book is The Great Gatsby, ya?"

My heart swells a bit at her words. "Ya, it is," I whisper, trying to focus my eyes on hers instead of her lips. It doesn't work so I decide to close my eyes, letting myself focus on her body heat instead. We stay silent, sitting like this, with me holding her. I could stay like this forever.

"Could you kiss me?" Y/N mumbles, shifting in my hold.

My eyes snap open, taking in her face. I roll the words over in my head. I already thought holding her was much for a "first date" and now she's asking me to kiss her? Maybe this is a trap. Maybe I'm making her feel like we have to move fast. Maybe Al Ghul is fucking with my head somehow. "Why?" I peep out, loosening my grip on her.

"Well, my therapist says doing stuff I used to do can help with my memories coming back. We were together ya?"

"Ya, we still are." Her face pinches some as her body stiffens again. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It isn't fair of me to expect a relationship from Y/N. She doesn't even know who she is, let alone who I am.

"Well, I thought maybe kissing you again would help. We don't have to-"

"I really want to kiss you," I say, cutting her off, and tightening my grip on her again. Y/N's hands slide to the back of my neck, her fingers shaking a bit against my skin but her body relaxes again. "Close your eyes," I mumble, sliding my nose against hers again.

Y/N obeys, fluttering her eyes shut. I take my time, trailing kisses across her nose, her eyes, and her cheeks, before placing myself above her mouth. I soak this scene in for a second before closing the gap between us. Her lips are soft against mine and taste like mint gum.

I shift my hands up, cupping her neck with one and softly dipping the other into her hair. All my need and want and love is boiled into the kiss. Our lips shift against each other for a while, the kiss getting heated way more than it meant.

As my lungs start burning, Y/N pulls back, making me a bit sad. I'd gladly suffocate to death from her kiss. "Jason," She murmurs, her words a little slurred.

"Say it again," I whisper back, tilting my head so our lips are close again.

"Jason," She mutters again. Her lips brush against mine as she speaks.

Fucking Christ. This is too hot, too heated, too much for her right now but I can't stop thinking about hearing her whisper my name all night. "I can't wait for you to fall in love with me again," I say, keeping my tone at a whisper as I glance over her face.

"Why is that?" Y/N asks, her fingers tangling into my hair.

"Because I still love you so fucking much."

———————————————————————

[honeybeefae]

6, 13, 38. Just the stupidest and funniest situation you can think of with literally anyone 😂

Prompts:

6: "You look stupid as hell right now."

13: "Oh God yes, right there- oh my God, just like that, please don't stop." "...Can you stop that? You're making it sound like we're in a porno and now I'm highly uncomfortable."

38: "You're such a dork." "Yeah, no wonder you're so in love with me."

Pairings: Inner Circle, Cassian x Nesta, Feyre x Rhysand, Mor x Emerie

Warnings: Alluding to sexual situations but not actual sex!

(This was chaotic to write but it was so much fun and I can literally picture this exact scenario. I hope you like it! <3)

The fire roared inside the hearth of the cabin as everyone sat around the coffee table. All of the food had been eaten, the wine almost completely gone, but the conversation and good mood were still going strong as Cassian stood for his turn of truth or dare.

"Truth or dare, Cassian?" Mor asked, her arm loosely slung around Emerie.

"You know me too well to ask me that question, Mor." Cassian smirked, cracking his knuckles as he sent a wink to Nesta who rolled her eyes.

"You could surprise everyone once in a while, you know Cass? Keep people on their toes?" Feyre remarked from Rhys's lap, her eyes half-lidded as he played with her hair. "You don't have any juicy secrets you want to share?"

"Secrets, secrets are no fun, Feyre. Secrets, secrets hurt someone." He replied while pretending to take a dagger to the heart, Mor clearing her throat to regain his attention. "Sorry, what was it?"

"I don't think it's fair to make him do a dare while he's this inebriated." Elain said, her mouth twisted sideways.

"It is very fair, Elain." Amren corrected, taking a sip from her almost empty glass. "Let's hear it, Mor."

"I dare you..." She trails off while pursing her lips, looking across her friends before a devious thought enters her mind. "I dare you to renact sex between you and Nesta."

"What? No! I don't want to see that...or hear it." Feyre groans, covering her ears as Rhysand and Azriel laugh. Elain nodded her head, looking like she was ready to bolt while Nesta seemed fed up with the entire thing.

"Yeah no, that's not going to happen. Cassian. Pass it." Nesta ordered, not even bothering to glance at him while he crossed his arms and pouted. "Save your whining. Choose a truth instead."

"Hang on, hang on, I think it's up to the player to choose, right Mor?" Amren pointed out, smirking as Nesta shot her a glare. "What's wrong, Nesta? Afraid we're all going to find out how bad your sex life is?"

"Amren, you better-" Nesta began only to be silenced as Cassian stepped into the middle of the circle and shook out his body. Amren grinned when she saw Nesta's face pale, everyone knowing what was about to come next.

"Cass, no, please, they're just trying-" Nesta tried to pull him back only to sigh when he shook his head dramatically, stumbling back a step as he turned to look at her with a hand over his heart.

"I'm defending our honor." He said bravely, grinning wolfishly as he looked down at Rhys and Feyre. "Cover your ears, High Lady, it's about to get graphic."

Before anyone could though Cassian went head first into the "act". He started thrusting sloppily, his hair falling into his face from how loose his bun was becoming as he threw his head back and started making the most obnoxious, high-pitched moans.

"Oh yes, Cassian! Right there! You are so handsome and strong!" He wailed, not even noticing how red Nesta's face was becoming. "Oh God yes, right there- oh my God, just like that, please don't stop."

"...Can you stop that? You're making it sound like we're in a porno and now I'm highly uncomfortable." Nesta pleaded, burying her face into her hands as Cassian continued on as if she hadn't even spoken. "Cassian, please, I'm begging."

"Please, Cassian, I'm begging!" He repeated with a girly voice, falling on his ass as Nesta swiped her leg behind his knees to finally get him to shut up. Everyone started laughing, Rhys having to physically hold his sides, as Cassian stood back up and bowed not so gracefully.

"Thank you, thank you." He pretended to accept roses, pulling a reluctant Nesta into his lap. "I love you so much."

"You look stupid as hell right now." She snapped though there was no real bite in her tone, her hand cupping his face as he nuzzled his nose against her. "You are such a dork."

"Yeah, no wonder you're so in love with me." He replied smartly, avoiding her light smack as he kissed her softly. "Just know the feeling is returned one hundred percent."

"And just know you'll be sleeping out in the snow tonight, darling." She replied sweetly, patting his cheek as he tried to figure out just how serious she was.

[oklotea]

Tintin Character Requests! Pt. 1

The series where I draw Tintin characters in funky little outfits cuz they truly are funky little characters

In the first picture, we've got toxic yaoi, well, no, the first request was these two on their own but because I love them so much and their interactions in the 2011 movie I drew them together, and wow I am actually quite proud of how it ended up looking like!!!!! (Probably one of my favorite out of this batch of sketches)

Ty @mis3rabl3m3lody and @libraryidealist for the request!!!

Aaand behind curtain number 2, we've got certified best boy, Chang!!!! Where is he running off to? Idk. I would be embarrassed to admit how much time I spent figuring out how running looks like cuz I just suddenly forgot wtf running looks like

Ty @myfunnyvalentine !!! For the request!! You seemed quite enthusiastic

Next up, we've got AHHHHH MY SILLY MY GOOFY MY FAVORITE MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL!!!! PROFESSOR CALCULUS!!!! I drew him in polite little vest and turtleneck combo and some patterned pants, politely waving at you! I was watching a few episodes recently and AGEHHDHDHH I FORGOT JUST HOW ENTERTAINING AND AMAZING AND ICONIC THIS MAN IS he's so silly he's a genius he has no idea what's going on most of the time <3333 we need him in the hypothetical 2011 sequel (it's coming guys trust me)

Ty @unlikelyintelligent and @akasanata for the request!!

TADAAA!!!! IT'S GENERAL ALCAZAR!!! ok. As you know I've only recently started coming back to Tintin, and I'm ngl I forgot who general alcazar was. Then I watched Tintin and the picaros and pretty quickly I remembered. THIS GUY WAS SO COOL. my dumb kid brain didn't entirely grasp what was going on in that episode, BUT NOW I DO KNOW. AND WOW THIS EPISODE WAS WILD. every Tintin episode is on a spectrum of insane but this one tips closer to the more unhinged end. GENERAL ALCAZAR IS SO BADASS, HES LEADING A REVOLUTION, HE'S A MALE WIFE, HE IS A PRESIDENT NOW??? I miss the guy. ALSO I LOVE HIS DESIGN.

(Also if your wondering if every Tintin post I make I'll include a tangent of just gushing about how much I love some aspect of Tintin you better get used to it cuz I love rambling about how much I love Tintin)

Ty @tintinology for the request!!! AARRRGHRHRHHH GENERAL ALCAZAR!!!!!!

here's a couple characters ik little about, ik they were the original antagonists of the secret of the unicorn but that's about it! It's the bird brothers!!!! They're in some fancy suits, judging everyone they pass, their probably grumbling about something. From their appearance they look like their never happy sjhfjdjf

Ty @jimmyandthegiraffes for the request! :D

And last but definitely not least, IT'S JOLYON WAGG!!!!! if only the editing was better so you could bask in his graceful and obnoxious glory. I really like his voice! I really like his wardrobe! And he is some sort of anomaly to me, hes just popping up in the most random times, and most of the time it's to be an annoying little bitch (endearing), he has a medal of honor btw! If I ever met him, I would at first be very charmed, but then realize this is an entirely one sided conversation that'll go on for hours and hours that I won't be leaving anytime soon, and when I eventually get home I'll be completely exhausted by how much social energy I was using up just trying to keep up and look like I was really really invested in whatever this man was rambling about

But anyway he's silly and whimsical so I still really like him

Aaannnddd that's it folks! I'll eventually work on the other requests I have!!!! Have a good evening!!!!!

[namisweatheria]

Hi!!!!!! I'm so glad I found your blog, as someone who also loves the female characters of One Piece it's nice to read your thoughts on how they're represented! Speaking of, I just finished WCI and started Wano and I feel like I'm in the minority when I say I'm kinda disappointed with how Oda treated Pudding and Reiju. They were set up to be such cool characters but I feel like Oda just kind of threw them aside and didn't give them the characterization they deserved. ESPECIALLY PUDDING! It felt like for a brief moment, Oda was going to explore Sanji's "every woman is a saint who needs me to protect them" mentality but... Nope! He just reinforces it if anything! He called her beautiful ONCE and all of a sudden she's head over heels in love with him!! After spending most of the arc thinking he's obnoxious! She was actually just a sad girl who needed a nice man to make her realize she's actually good! (Also I hate how condescending it feels too like when Sanji says "You've fooled everyone... even yourself" like ughhhhhhh) Oda kind of did the same thing with Hancock and Baby 5 but it feels more annoying in this case to me. Sorry for writing a whole essay in your asks, but I feel like I don't really see WCI or Pudding really talked about in this context and was curious if you had any thoughts on it?

Hi!!!! These are really good points. Never apologize for writing an essay in my asks this totally made my day.

Honestly, my expectations were so low, and Sanji's behavior was better than it had ever been in general, and there were so many female characters getting focus in the arc, (Nami, Carrot, Big Mom, Chiffon, and Brulee as well as Pudding and Reiju!) that I was too shocked and happy about all of it to be particularly annoyed or disappointed. Even though that trope pisses me off too!!

For me personally I found it the most irritating with Baby 5 and Viola, because Dressrosa is a misogynistic nightmare lmao. Whole Cake had so many unique female character designs in the background, and provided me with so much that I never would have ever ever ever expected in a million years.

I mean, Nami and Lola's friendship paying off like that so many arcs later??? In a way that gives Nami so much power and creates so many funny moments??? I WAS THRILLED!!!

Carrot as a character as well totally delighted me, I love that she's tough and rowdy, I still remember when Nami had to save Luffy from her after he ate her carrot and she went for his throat lmao. And when the Sulong transformations were introduced through her!!!!! Just wrecking all those ships single-handedly!!!!! Man I was over the moon.

Not to even mention how Chiffon turned out to be just as honorable and brave as Lola, and her husband expresses so much respect and admiration for her about it, following her lead. Honestly I love a background-drawn-unattractively weirdo4weirdo, especially with such a pleasingly gnc dynamic.

So much of what I loved Pudding for in the beginning was her genuine disgust and contempt for Sanji's sexist adoration, I don't think we've ever seen anyone react that strongly to it! It was incredibly satisfying. So yeah, when she completely turned around and was suddenly infatuated despite all of that, it was a huge let-down. If I hadn't enjoyed the surrounding arc so much, I'd definitely be very upset about it. I mean, I definitely didn't like it. But my feelings are really dependent on how much I'm currently annoyed or pleased with the story, rather than more objective lol.

I do love that you pointed out that parallel, because I love to identify and rip apart things like this.

You wanna hear something fucked up and twisted? I think Oda actually tries, on some level, to write positive #Representation for women in One Piece. HEAR ME OUT.

Have you ever noticed that the female characters are always, in some way, secretly good? Like, almost no matter what? They're also always smart. I truly believe that Oda is concerned with misogynistic stereotypes, except only the most basic ones. Namely, that women are Evil, and Stupid. THAT'S IT!!!!!!!!!!!

Something I like about this is that female characters are basically always deeply empathized with narratively. Unfortunately a lot of Shounen Animanga does not do that lmao, so it stands out. Their interiority and their suffering matters!

However they're very restricted by the boundaries of being Good, Smart, and Attractive. Which results in some pretty patronizing, flattening, disappointing moments.

Reiju and Pudding were very notable victims of those boundaries. I only read the arc once, (though I'll get there on my first reread eventually), so I wish I had more to say about them specifically😭 Unfortunately my memory of the exact way their arcs played out is far from perfect. I have included Reiju in one of my fanfic outline posts though! I really do adore them both.

And back to talking about the boundaries for female characters, I do think he is finally reaching out beyond those lines in a big way starting in a later arc! But I won't spoil it since you're not there yet. Though you know who I think about a lot when it comes to this topic? Monet from Punk Hazard. The way she was VERY EVIL AND CALLOUS but also had a gag of being easily flustered by any compliment was just. I don't know it really was like a microcosm of the issue to me. Even a woman who ruthlessly experiments on kidnapped children has to be somehow vulnerable and made accessible to male sexual interest. In a way it's very much the same thing that happens to all of them, protagonist or antagonist. They have to meet the standards of female attractiveness at the expense of good storytelling!!!

Pudding and Reiju deserved better!!!!!!!!!!

[monstersinthecosmos]

List 7 comfort films and tag 7 people!

Tagged by @ihaventcomeupwthanameforaheroyet ! thanks!! I WROTE DOWN A FEW FAVS OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD (IN NO ORDER) AND HAD 9, SO, I THINK IWTV 1994 GOES WITHOUT SAYING LMFAO, ALSO HONORABLE MENTION TO AMERICAN PSYCHO BC IT MAKES ME LAUGH MY ASS OFF EVERY TIME BUT I ULTIMATELY CUT IT FROM THIS PRESITIGOUS LIST.

is it obnoxious if i put some pictures in the post too? Sorry I get really excited to talk about movies hkjdslgasd please don't feel obligated to put pictures in yours, I'm just being extra.

Terminator 2: Judgment Day [1991]

LISTEN I CRY EVERY FUCKING TIME it's just the best, ROBOT DADDY??? HOT MOMMY???? The T-1000 is so scary?? ALL THESE RIDICULOUS EPIC FIGHT SCENES AND THE ACTORS ARE JUST NOT EMOTING AT ALL BECAUSE THEY'RE ROBOTS? The director's cut with the extra scene where John is trying to teach the Terminator to smile and you realize when he does his little side smirk it's because he's copying John's smile, bc when he copied randos it didnt fit on his face?!??! Eddie Furlong's voice cracking which feels like such a happy accident because he's a weak little fragile human in contrast to the killing machine?? PLEASE.

Hellraiser [1987]

IT'S WEIRD, IT'S KINKY, IT'S GAY, IT'S CHEESY, IT'S GOT PRACTICAL EFFECTS THAT ARE KINDA COOL BUT KINDA STUPID, IT'S GOT THE GRAINY 80S COZY FEEL, IT'S GOT INCREDIBLE FEMALE SEXUALITY AND BAD ACTING, I JUST LOVE IT. It's just a movie I put on when I need to relax and wow it just makes me really happy ;.;

Pet Sematary [1989]

okay this one and the next one and the last one are all GRAINY 80S COZY FEEL, you have to understand that I grew up watching 80s horror from like the age of 5 so that flim look, the grain, the flat lighting, it just !!!!!!! gives me so much cozy fuzzy warmth for childhood and I just adore it. Anyway !!!!!!1 I LOVE THIS MOVIE SO MUCH it's so extremely dark and also extremely absurd, somehow it's so magnetic that you are immediately immersed even though it's got the aesthetic of a bad TV movie, it's just wonderful I adore it. ALSO a rare super faithful Stephen King adaptation!

An American Werewolf in London [1981]

PRACTICAL EFFECTS MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!11 blah blah cozy 80s, but also! FUNNY! ROMANTIC! TRAGIC! SCARY WHEN IT NEEDS TO BE! I'm so deeply deeply impressed by the practical effects in this film, too! But wow it's so good every time, the hot nurse in this movie is a crazy monsterfucker I adore her, it's a good Armand/Daniel AU, the end is a gut punch every fucking time, it's the best, a naked American man stole my balloons, etc. Absolutely perfect film.

Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain [2001]

VISUALLY STUNNING FILM ABOUT AN ASEXUAL WOMAN WITH SOCIAL ANXIETY, PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I think this movie like, changed my life maybe? I think I saw it when I was 15 or so and it just had such a huge impact on me. I used to watch it so much I would just turn the subtitles off because I'd get distracted and didnt even need them anymore. It's a movie I used to bring with me when I traveled, like I brought the DVD with me when I studied abroad because I was so scared I'd have anxiety or get homesick, I just always wanted to be able to watch it if I need to. IF I WATCH THIS AT THE WRONG TIME OF THE MONTH I CRY MY EYES OUT which is cathartic in the end, idk if it's comfy or comforting but wow. but wow really amazing film it's so beautiful and had such a huge impact on my worldview and my creativity and the way I write and the way I do photography and just !!! ;.; I'm gonna cry!

The Departed [2006]

I really like it when Leo DiCaprio cries and he's not a super crybaby in his one but he does scream in pain and have the shit beat out of him and has panic attacks and needs anxiety meds! The cast is sick! The music is amazing! It's such cool storytelling!!! It's exciting every time! The ending fucks! GOD. Just wonderful, I love it so much. The Blu-ray starts over every time it ends so every time I watch it I tend to walk away and let it loop all day LOL. It's disgusting how many times I've watched it. ALSO MY BABE VERA FARMIGA WHAT A MILF god i love her.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall [2008]

this is like such a perfect comedy for my sense of humor, INCLUDING A BONUS DRACULA SUBPLOT CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, but is actually such a clever and lovely story about getting over heartbreak wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love this movie so fucking much oh my god. Also ever since I worked on ships I feel like especially potent to it because there's something about the social community within the resort that feels so much like the community of a cruise ship crew!! ;.;

Tagging (but no pressure!): @rugbertgoeshome @hekateinhell @mothmage @apoptoses @cup-of-lixx @somevagrantchild @covenofthearticulate

[bxldrsdraumar]

"Hm? Oh, quite. Some parts exaggerated for, ah, dramatic effect - " he snickered at his own joke, "But the facts remain true. I did break my leg during a hunt, and it was with my two best and dearest friends. We did find our way home, in the end, and into many other misadventures."

He paused a moment, expression soft, even as the boy rifled about with the imposter's belongings. It was a miracle, Sigurd thought - not merely that he lived yet, but that in spite of so many blank spaces in his mind, he still held so tightly to these memories of those he loved most. Of Deirdre, and Seliph, and Ethlyn too, of course.

And also Quan and Eldigan, for deep in his heart, they were family, just as surely as the others. His lips curved into a smile, and he turned his face to Hector; "Those bonds are worth more than aught else, lad. If you've friends of your own, you must cherish them - through thick and thin," he added, parroting his companion's words.

They searched further for a moment, and Sigurd murmured softly to the horse when its tail began to twitch in irritation, and he patted the beast's neck thoughtfully, chuckling a bit at the revelation that his imposter truly was an idiot.

He shook his head with some disbelief. "Were I not in such a fragile state myself, I'd perhaps be offended," he said aloud, though to none in particular. To the horse he added, "And such a fine companion you must be, to carry this lout's burden, all by your lonesome. I suspect you were a gift from some noble or another. Ah well."

At Hector's suggestion, though surely a joke, Sigurd's grin widened, and he raised his voice to reply; "No rope, you say? None to get our poor king form the hole? Alas, you might be right! Perhaps the only recourse is to begin to fill the hole, that he may climb out of his own power!"

Faintly, he heard the calling voice reply, "Ah, erm. Well! If it's all the same, I'd rather, er, one of you come down to - ?"

"Nay, nay, I think you are a genius, my young friend!" Sigurd continued in his stage-shout, clapping Hector on the shoulder. "Surely we would not be so foolish as to trap all three of us in the hole - and lo! Conveniently, all of the displaced earth from digging the hole is quite within reach! The heavens do smile on us."

And, crouching, he gathered a modest pile into his cape with a great sweep of his arm, and carried it over to dump back into the hole without ceremony.

"Only a bit more, milord! And then you can clamber your kingly way to the surface!"

sigurd go down the hole

[snickerdoodlles]

oooooh 📓 for word of honor? :D

ohhh yes, i have so many woh ideas i did absolutely nothing with. let's seeeee first up is *spins wheel* ✨LEVERAGE AU✨

this is quite literally all of my notes for it:

summary: Wen Kexing, head of a rag-tag group of grifters trying to do good (well, karmic) deeds, gets introduced to his own boyfriend while on the con. Luckily, his A-Xu is going along with it without a fuss, but Kexing is so dead when he gets home.

Con: ?????

Squad: wkx, a-xiang, & department of the unfaithful

wkx: mastermind

A-Xiang: thief

Qianqiao: GRIFTER

Fumeng: head of a hacker collective. originally she started it to collect info on unfaithful men and expose them, wkx helped broadened her scope

A-Xu's at the party for chengling. channels all his many, MANY years of working for the prince to not laugh in wkx's face when they're introduced

sneaks his menace of a boyfriend off to the side to be like "you either need to come clean or exit stage right right now because the kid is here and you know he's a terrible liar"

wkx proceeds to flirt obnoxiously and outrageously. physically he is on the con, mentally and also physically he is roleplaying a seductress trying to seduce a married man with zzs.

a-xiang's complaints could be heard across the city without coms, fumeng is planning is death. qianqiao is the only one who finds this both charming and hilarious.

zzs: what do you need me to do wkx: kiss me zzs: i meant for your grift wkx, pupils blown wide: KISS ME

husbands boyfriends off to do sneaky things (???), get caught by security. zzs takes them all down before wkx finishes his first flirt.

wkx didn't need the help, he's the team's emergency killer hitter, but. so fucking hot. he needs zzs to fuck him against the wall IMMEDIATELY but also. what.

wkx: i thought you said you worked insurance! zzs: no, i said i was the insurance guy wkx: ...is that code for assassin? zzs, amused: did you think i actually worked insurance?

honestly biggest thing was that the reveal isn't angsty. wkx has been worried how he's going to break his ~life of crime~ to the love of his life for months. zzs could have known nothing about it prior to this and he'd help wkx burn the city to the ground no questions asked.

this never really went anywhere because i couldn't settle on a plot beyond ✨Shenanigans✨ but i did figure out that their client was Gao Xiaolian (because she is the cutest) to destroy zhao jing for driving her dad to suicide.

[[ ask me about fics im not writing ]]