#and his BIG ASS chevron as he deserves

[aghostsnail]

the prowlerrrr

@keferon mecha au (I'm not sure if I should keep tagging for credit, sorry if not!)

[cyberdragoninfinity]

If you haven’t gotten him yet for the ask game: syrus? Vehicroid time….

SYRUSSSS nobodys asked him yet but i will happily go off...

Why I like them/why I don’t: SYRUS TRUESDALE MY ACTUAL FAVORITE YUGIOH CHARACTER IM NOT KIDDING he's another one of those characters ive howled and wailed a thousand times about but god. i love him so much. character who resonated deep with me, he's such a good depiction of the sort of teenage self-consciousness neurosis an anxious terminally shy not many friends kid can stew in, and then he has a genuine character arc!! and it's a great one, one of the best in the show! he really is like the joey of gx and it pains me that people dont gaf about him half the time. he actually grows and develops and his dynamic with his brother makes me insaneo craayayayaayzaayy. also hes FUCKING MEAN AND IT'S HILARIOUS?!? YOURE LIKE 4'11" CHILL OUT i love him to bits!!! if i ever meet wayne grayson im gonna be in tears.

What I like about their appearance: honestly it's the glasses. i love the canon (from tag force) factoid that syrus changes his glasses when something big happens to him but nobody notices. I'LL NOTICE SWEETIE!!!

Do I prefer their dub names or original names? sorry im a dub name enjoyer 193489523984% here. "syrus with an S" is like absolute peak 4kids dub name its been stuck in my brain since 2006. im obsessed with it. like hell yeah man thats a syrus if ive ever seen one they were right.

OTP: WELL IM UNWELL AND MADE UP A SHIP FOR HIM THAT I GOT ATTACHED TO. SO. my kingdom for syrus/mana i think they could be autism4autism weird kids who match each others' freak so well. syrus deserves to be someone's lameass boyfriend. schoolbusshipping. fuck it.

NOTP: again not into jaden/syrus. but also if you ship him with zane i hope you explode ten thousand times

OT3: i dont think i have one for him??? hrm

Favourite card they use: POWER BOND. WAHHHH. i do also love the vehicroids theyre all SO so goofy. his little chevron cars.

Favourite moment they were in: will forever love his season 4 duel where he uses the cyberdarks and kicks that Jinzo guy's ass but honestly i think one of my all time favorite sy moments is the dub exclusive "YOU TRADED MY BED FOR A CARD." theres so many funny syrus lines this kid is hilarious

Least favourite moment: i dont think i have any moments that i just severely dont like with him but sometimes he is a little weird about women. stop that. sprays him with a hose

Something I associate with them: this post

[bbygrvr]

⌠ DEV PATEL, 32, MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, BOBBY GROVER! originally hailing from BLACKTHORNE, this alum specializes in DRIVER’S ED. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (a selfie with a no loitering sign, days old take-out, the crash of shattered glass).  it’s the (aries)’s birthday on 06/04/1998, and when they were still in school their most requested dish was RIBEYE STEAK from the school’s chefs. hopefully their presence can help ease the minds of gallagher students. ⌿ tasha, 22, she/her, best ⍀ <- just realized i put best instead of est i swear that wasn’t intentional pls don’t think im up my own ass dfhjg

guess who did a complete 180 n was like .. haha .. what if .. i bring an alum .. a character that i’ve used before in a gang rp dfjhg who was a .. Getaway Driver . and the non-commitment of it was v appealing to me at 4am !  all the good stuff under the read more .. n just the tiniest of plugs .. during my 4am journey i also finally got around  to writing luce’s bio . 4 everyone who wanted a powerpoint of all her exes , this ones for u its a doozy xo lov a gorl who is defined by men :))) tw: drug addiction, car crash, murder (FOR BOBBY DFJH)  + HIS PINTEREST bc it’s probably my favourite one 

BACKSTORY

i am obsessed with the trope that danger breeds from boredom in suburbia but to make it even spicier , why not combine it with someone who might be a literal sociopath ? born in grosse pointe shores , one of the most affluent suburbs in detroit .

was born robert, but that’s a boring name for a boring man, something he is anything but . he’s a third generation american, and grew up in the typical white picket fence neighbourhood , though his family is extremely wealthy from investing in fossil fuels . however , they live modestly which has always been a major gripe with bobby .  

he’s been a problem child for as long as he can remember , sneaking into r-rated movies before he was a teen , and he could’ve been a hipster artist with the amount of weed he smoked and bullshit he spewed . however , he excelled in school , his parents unworried as he placed at the top of his class , and only comment from teachers was that he talked too much .

at sixteen he gets his driver license , and soon enough pavements are tracked with tire marks and he’s running reds and hiding the ticket notices from his parents . street racing’s his jam , there’s white powder on the tip of his nose . he’s also the unofficial bookie for an underground fight club ... spending most of his time in the city which is only a twenty minute drive .

his parents start to pay attention , he thinks , finally those dumb fucks . they send him to therapy . therapists are obsessed with roots of trauma and thinking processes . but he’s not angry and he’s never faced any tragedy . what a waste of time , he thinks , but they prescribe him some pretty dope pills .

he wreaks havoc on his parents while rousing suspicion of blackthorne recruiters . under the guise of school recruiters they tell his parents of a private boarding school for gifted young students . they enrol him immediately . he’s planning to escape the first chance he gets , but falls in love before he can . not with anyone , but the school . this place is fucking epic . he keeps using but he’s extremely high functioning .

he’s never killed anyone before , and no one’s wronged him to the point of deserving death , so he goes big ‘cos he sure as hell isn’t going home and kills the ceo of chevron , a multibillion dollar oil company , because nothing has wronged him like climate change has . it’s easy enough , under the right tutelage , but he still pukes after .

his spy career lasts for seven blissful years , but his addiction comes to a boil when he crashes at 120 mph into a brick wall after believing that his car could go through it . to this day , he still believes that the coke he had snorted previously was laced with something . a fellow spy in the passenger seat dies .

blackthorne pulls him out and locks him up , very trainspotting scene except he’s locked up for a year , it’s possibly the worst experience of his life , and still shudders at the memories of withdrawing . they tell him that if they ever find out he’s using again they’ll kill him , no questions asked . then , they allow him to go to a proper rehab facility .

he’s now been sober for three years , and has the chip to prove it .

PERSONALITY

extremely outspoken to the point of rudeness , crass too . always makes every conversation an attempt to provoke for the shits and giggles of it .

pretty hyperaware of everything that’s going on even if it doesn’t seem like it . he’ll like , swat a fly out of nowhere mid-conversation then hold up his palm to whoever’s talking to him to show the fly gut’s on his hand .

self-indulgent , doesn’t have much of a moral compass , goes where the fun is .

super pumped about being an alum to the students , he has made lesson plans .

TRIVIA

would have gone to school for film , even though he could have been able to apply for anything and get in . obsessed with body horror ( cronenberg’s his hero ) and german expressionism .

his last name comes from the original surname of guruvara/gorovare which is a sanskrit word for teacher/mentor so maybe he was destined for this ... king shit .

hasn’t talked to his parents since he was sixteen despite them reaching out multiple times , he hates them for some , inexplicable reason .

from like eighteen to when he got sober .. how do i say this .. his dick .. was not performing as if should have DHJG ?? that just gives u the impression as to how many drugs he was taking at the time .

CONNECTIONS

calling all driver’s eds kids ! just hit me up , because he probably has a detailed plan on how to mentor you .

any other kids who have no experience with driving , but want to learn !

his death count’s low , but any sort of connection to the person he who died in his car when he was off his ass .

alternatively , any blackthorne kids who’ve heard the rumours that he killed the ceo of the oil company , stroke his ego !

he was truly working overtime those seven years he was a spy so any other alum , maybe they worked a job together !

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Hounds of Justice--Ch. 42

Chapter 42

           A whistle. A series of calls and compliments as I walked down the hall toward the room Dean and Roman shared. They were both standing outside in street shoes, relaxed fit jeans, and tees. Dean had his black leather jacket while Roman was tugging on a navy-blue pullover.

           The bag Roman had given me was a teal and grey chevron patterned sweater dress. It was warm and soft, hugging my curves in just the right way while still being comfortable and roomy. I’d paired it with a pair of grey leggings and a set of Uggs. My phone and money had been stuffed in a little purse that I wore across my chest.

It might have been the middle of the day, but it was cool out and it was nice to just be dressed up for a while.

           “Wow,” Dean said, leaning back just a little and giving me a wide eyed once over. “You look… well, if I weren’t a married man…”

           I rolled my eyes and backhanded him on the chest. “Eww. Shut up.”

           Roman grinned at his side. “Your hair looks great like that.”

           A blush burned over my cheeks. I’d given it a quick turn with the curling iron just to make it behave. It fell around my shoulders in red-streaked waves. Putting it back up just seemed like too much of a hassle.

           “Thanks, Ro,” I said, tucking a lock of it behind my ear.

           We stood outside the room, chatting as we waited for Finn to come back. Dean drew me against his side, arm thrown over my shoulders. He leaned his head against mine.

           “Seriously, Llane. You look beautiful.” Hearing it from him made the blush burn even deeper. “Want to go torture Sir Head-Up-His-Ass with it?”

           I sighed. “No. I just want to have some time without drama.”

           “No drama. If it’s wha’ ya wan’, it’s wha’ ya get, love.” Finn’s voice grew louder as he came around the corner. He stopped dead when he finally looked at us.

           At me.

           His blue eyes went wide. Color burned high on his cheeks. I watched the expression on his face change from his easy smile to surprise to something unreadable. I looked away, feeling self-conscious.

           Beside me, Roman looked at his watch. “We should get going if we want to have enough time to do anything. You know we’ll get stopped half a dozen times.”

           “Lead the way,” Finn said, his voice sounding a little choked.

           Dean drew me with him as he walked toward the elevator. Roman and Finn fell in behind us, talking in low tones about where we might end up. Everything from the morning had pulled out every bit of energy I had in me, and I was more than a little hungry.

           “We’re getting the fresh air,” I said as we waited by the elevator doors. “And I’ll sleep after the show tonight. Where’s my food?”

           Finn looked at Roman, brow quirked. Roman shrugged, grinning at me like a proud big brother. “Hey, man,” he said, putting up his hands, “she does what she wants.”

           “Damn right,” Dean tossed in, curling his arm around my neck a little more. “We’ve tried for months to train her, but she ain’t house broke yet.”

           I rolled my eyes at him, doing my best not to sock him in the ribs.

           “Lady’s choice then,” Finn replied, giving me a little mock bow.

           A giggle. A rush of happiness at being listened to. A little jab of shame at having fun without Seth.

           “That pub from last night. I want to try that… what was it you had?”

           “Bacon blaas and champs.”

           We stepped into the elevator, Dean making a face. “I only heard one food in there. Bacon.”

             “Ya look nice, Llane,” Finn said as we sat across from one another at the pub. He had his hand around his glass of Guinness, turning it slowly on the tabletop. He didn’t look at me directly, just from beneath his lashes.

           I smiled and tilted my chin toward Roman, who was in the back playing darts with Dean. “A gift from Ro. To cheer me up.”

           “Seems like it worked.”

           A shrug. Fingers toying with the straw in my soda. A retreat into the corner of the booth.

           “I’m sorry,” Finn lamented. “I know ya got somethin’ goin’ on wit’ Rollins. I’m not tryin’ ta chat ya up.”

           My heart skidded in my chest, not entirely sure if it wanted to go faster or slower. “Seth is… Seth. And everything that comes with it. He and I will work this out or we won’t. But I won’t let it be the reason that the Shield gets busted up again.”

           “Well, ya can’ control that, love.” He glanced over his shoulder to look at Roman and Dean arguing playfully over whether a dart was 5 or 10 points. “Do they mean enough to ya ta be miserable at work every night?”

           The answer came without thought. It was so simple that I knew it in my bones.

           “Yes.”

             Lacing up my boots was like strapping on armor. It made me feel like I could do anything. And I needed it since I was facing Bayley in one-on-one after losing last week.

           The sports tape sat on the bench by my bag, waiting. I stared at it for a long while before digging my Black and Brave straps from the front pocket. They felt strange after a week’s worth of shows without them.

           “C’mon, dorks, it’s almost time,” I shouted, pounding on the door of their dressing room a few minutes later.

           It swung open, revealing Seth in the new Shield shirt—the one that had my fist squished in with the others, my logo on my glove. His hair was shiny, dripping water down his back.

           “Are you guys gonna make me go out there by myself tonight?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded normal.

           For a moment, Seth looked at me. It seemed like he tried to memorize the shape of my face, the sound of my voice. Ice dropped into my stomach. Fear spiked my veins.

           Whatever this is… I thought, terror-filled… don’t let it be over.

           “Do you mind if it’s just me?” he queried, voice barely loud enough for me to hear. “If not, the guys are ready.”

           The relief was heady. I smiled, watched the light come back into his eyes.

           “Yeah.” Fingers flexed. Itched. Reached toward him. “Just you.”

           His lips turned up. I finally saw how much it hurt him to feel like I didn’t want him. That I’d chosen the other two and left him behind.

           “Just you is great,” I said softly, stepping toward him. Our fingers brushed together. A shock ran straight through me, singeing my nerves, lighting up every neuron in my brain.

             “Change of plans,” I whispered to Bayley as we were locked together in the center of the ring. Her look was enough to tell me she understood.

           I whispered the new direction. She nodded in agreement.

           She whipped me into the corner, and I came out with a clothesline. The ring vibrated with her landing. Bayley took her time getting up, rolling toward her side. I glanced down at Seth who was crouched on the bottom of the steel steps. Euphoria rushed through me. I knew my face was lit up with a smile. I hoped he knew it was for him.

           Turn. Run. A boot to the back of the neck.

Curb stomp. Seth’s curb stomp.

I dropped into the cover, hooking Bayley’s inside leg. The sound of the referee’s hand hitting the mat echoed in my ears.

One one-thousand… He’s trying.

Two one-thousand… I knew who he was when I started this.

Three one-thousand… We can do this together.

The bell rang. Shouts, screams, stomping, and chanting. It all bled away when I rolled to my feet and got swept up into a fierce hug. Seth pulled me against his chest, his mouth near my ear.

“You deserve the best. Help me be what you deserve,” he whispered.

We drew apart, looking at one another in the center of the ring as if thirty-thousand people weren’t watching our every move. His dark eyes were pleading. Something twisted in my chest. I missed him so much.

I had barely nodded when his lips crashed down against mine. His arms wrapped tight around me, lifting me off the mat.

Noise rushed in. Clapping. Wolf-whistles.

“We’re in trouble,” I whispered, knowing Triple H would be back stage waiting for us.

“Fuck it,” Seth replied quietly.  

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