#and some of the ones that are there have bashing

[serenity-loves-red]

Note: Y’all is shirtless Phainon the new trend now not that i’m complaining? Hoyoverse pls stop giving me ideas😩

Phainon likes you, very much so that it became a common knowledge in Okhema. He even thought he was so lowkey and excellent in keeping it a secret until Mydei asked him if you already got together when he saw Phainon looks to happy.

That was when he finally knew that his so-called secret isn’t actually a secret. He got really embarrassed when Mydei pointed it out how he was so obvious yet somehow, you weren’t able to catch on.

Idiots, some people calls you both. Others would say cute slowburn soon-to-be lovers who just need a bit of push.

For Phainon? He just thinks how embarrassing everything is.

Some groups even started placing bets on when Phainon can finally has his courage to ask you out. Not just those mixed signal moves that you always interpreted as platonic.

You, the one who made the Deliverer of Amphoreus weak on his knees just look so clueless and slow. You keep explaining that how Phainon acted with you was just like how you both normally do.

“Phainon doesn’t like me like that.” You laughed when someone pointed it out. “We’re just friends.” You always reasoned out.

A bit of oblivious to his advances that makes people who sees you two together just wants to bash your faces together to make you kiss.

Phainon somehow felt relieved hearing that and just let you believe what you wanted to. He knows now is not the right time and when it is, he will surely show you how determined and serious he is pursuing you.

And that right time came faster than he could say Amen to Kephale.

Phainon’s decision on wooing you slowly was put on a challenge when you met Mydei.

Phainon had accompanied you to Marmoreal Market when you wanted to check for some fruits. On your way, you met Mydei who Phainon enthusiastically introduced.

You already knew the man named Mydei but never actually met him. So when you did, you can’t stop ogling him.

And Phainon? Oh Kephale, he never felt this regretful when introducing Mydei to anyone before. And you– can you stop ogling over his rival? You never even looked at him that way!

He nudged at you but you just gave him a brief side eye and gestured your eyes at Mydei.

Why did it took you so long to introduce this man to me huh? I thought we were friends. He somehow managed to understand you.

Forget all those fruits! You keep looking at Mydei’s exposed chest, complete forgetting about him.

Phainon couldn’t let you do that. So without thinking straight. He pulled your arm to stop you from walking.

“Wha-“ you managed to stutter out before being boggled by the sight before you.

Phainon just lit himself on fire until his upper body was bare.

“Can you look at me now?” He said, eyes completely focused on you. “Do I really have to took off my clothes for you to just look at me?”

He looks so serious that for a second you didn’t know what to say. It was until he felt the eyes and whistles from the crowd that was slowly forming that he let go of your arm, but kept you close.

He even has the audacity to look embarrassed when he was the one who started stripping!

“Don’t mind us!” Someone quipped from the crowd. “Go Lord Phainon! You can do it!” They cheered.

Red faced, Phainon mustered all his remaining sanity and confessed. “…I love you. I’ve always did but don’t know what to say. I wanted to wait until the time is right but…”

“You don’t have to explain anything but to tell you, I already have an inkling. I just didn’t want to assume anything and make it weird for us so I waited for you confess.” You replied feeling happy despite the bizarre situation.

“And I love you too.” You smiled, holding his hand and gave a quick peck to his cheek.

“But do you really have to take off your shirt?”

Ps. It was Aglaea’s idea in making Phainon jealous by having Mydei to show up. And it worked she won the bet

[crispy-bonnie]

this one in particular is about three characters i tried to get the love route for (except for washford), but failed to because god dammit i said something wrong i guess.

not really very spoilery, but i will add the tag and add a cut upon request if needed

picture this: you've accidentally got some of the dateables to hate you. you didn't mean to, but they do anyway, under the impression that you're just a piece of shit and that you hurt them intentionally. of course, you still have other items who are friends with you! some are even lovers, so you are pretty alright!

however, while you're doing some quests for others, you'd be forced to talk to the ones who hate you. every time you go up to one, they jab at you, berate you; they do anything to make you feel hurt... and you do.

so what do you do? of course, you stop interacting with them entirely. you don't even bother trying, seeing as no matter what you do to be civil, they do nothing but bash on you. you figure that talking to them just hurts more, both you and them, so you leave them to their solitude.

you need clothes to wash but washford hates you? that's fine; you can just take dirk on a trip to the laundromat.

does your floor need a quick vacuuming but hoove can't help but make salty remarks? well, you got yourself a broom (plus dolly would appreciate if you tried to preserve the dust a little bit more).

did your power go out during a storm and you know you're not welcome at the breaker box? you have a friend of yours come over to fix the power, or you just resort to using your phone; you're not picky.

it becomes a routine for you to avoid them, and they're bored out of their mind. hoove hasn't gone out to see everyone in a while, washford doesn't have anything to base his mournful poems off of anymore, and the breaker box seems to be relatively static (considering that the regulars have been too busy making plans with you to even think about visiting). it sucks, and it's starting to drive them crazy.

now what happens next? it's really up to the imagination. i personally can't think of anything that would be a good ending for this, but y'all can drop some ideas in my inbox or write up your own interpretation.

[staticespace]

To be fair, sometimes they react that way because that's exactly what's happening.

As an example, I have personally (anecdotally) seen this in several conversations about trans men. A few trans women discuss trans men as though they are little different than cis men, sometimes saying their behaviors in general are worse than cis men.

I know for this is not the perception of all trans women, nor do I intend to speak as though it is. I'm only bringing this up because, if some trans men have passed through similar spaces, when they see other posts about "how much privilege they have", they may feel on edge. Especially with how inflammatory people can be on the internet.

The thing is, the idea of privilege is multifaceted, and people who would presumably have fewer privileges may experience a life with more of them than the other groups they say actually have privilege. For example, yes, being a cis woman in the U.S. generally has fewer benefits than being a man. However, that generalization falls flat and tends to aggravate when the people having the discussion are a wealthy able-bodied white cis woman and a poor disabled Latino trans man. This is also why I feel making race-based comparisons to trans issues falls flat, but I digress.

We aren't privy to everyone's circumstances, and we also aren't supposed to be. I think the problem is some people label and generalize a tad too much when discussing these difficult topics.

TL;DR: Basically what I'm trying to say is I agree that privilege doesn't make one morally evil, etc.; be careful about generalizing who has privilege, what kinds you assume they have, and how you think that influences their lives and behaviors; and remember not to bash people you presume are privileged unless they've actually done something worth ridicule.

Btw, that idea that privilege makes you morally evil and suffering makes you morally good is just repackaged versions of the Christian concepts of the evils of luxury and the holiness of martyrdom. Hope this helps!

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

The Crash-Bang Incident - Part One

Or: on the way to the tunnels with a concussed Steve Harrington passed out in the back seat, Max crashes into Eddie's van.

Let the record show that Max Mayfield never claimed she was a good driver. She said she could drive. Those are two separate things. Besides, the only seemingly competent adults in this shithole of a town had fucked off to some secret lab, and the next closest thing they had to a competent adult is passed out in the back seat of Billy’s car.

She can still hear the shattering of the plate against Steve’s head, see the way he’d crumpled like one of the ragdolls her Mom had finally given up on getting her to like. Max glances into the rearview mirror, eyes seeking out Steve’s face. She just needs to make sure he’s still breathing. Make sure Billy didn’t do something she’ll have to live with.

She doesn’t hear Lucas’s scream quick enough. There’s just the sound of metal on metal, the car twisting and lurching, steering wheel bucking beneath her fingers like a horse still untamed, and her neck twists sideways. Whiplash. Pain.

She opens her eyes to a car full of boys screaming and a looming black figure pounding its fist against the glass of her window. She shrieks, vaulting backward into Lucas’s spot, bumping her hip painfully into the stick shift,  seatbelt stretched to its limit.

“Are you okay? Fuck!” The figure shouts, wrenching the door open. He shoves his head into the car and looks over at her, eyes wide in his manic face. His hair’s wrecked – it’s a wild curly curtain clouding his face. “Shit, you’re a fucking toddler!”

Max, having finally decided that this weirdo is not at all a threat, lurches forward, slams her hands against his chest, and shoves the man out of the open car door. “I’m thirteen!” she replies, sneering. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, we’re kind of in a hurry!”

She pointedly doesn’t look at Steve still crumpled in the back seat, but it doesn’t seem to matter; the man turns his head, pupils turning into pinpricks as he takes in the limp form sprawled across Mike and Dustin’s laps. 

“Is that Steve fucking Harrington?”

“What’s it to you?” Mike asks snottily. Max turns toward him, already snarling in protection, but Wheeler’s got Steve’s head cradled in his lap, and he’s got his arms raised like he can shield him from this nameless threat.

“What’d you do to his face?” Eddie demands, almost whining, like Steve Harrington having his face bashed in is an affront to him personally. 

Max lunges through the still-open window in an attempt to stop him, but it’s too late. The weird guy’s already opened the back door and has pushed his way in past Dustin to peer down into Steve’s face.

“Don’t touch him,” Max hisses just as the guy reaches out to press his fingertips gently against Steve’s cheek.  

Steve hadn’t woken up as they’d dragged him to the car. It’d taken all four of them pulling his limbs into strange shapes and probably giving him a wicked roadburn. He hadn’t woken up as all three of the idiots around her had screamed unhelpful directions in her ear on the assumption that being louder would make them more intelligible. He hadn’t even woken up when Mike and Dustin started clutching at him as the stranger climbed inside. 

But one touch of this guy’s trembling fingers against his cheek, and Steve’s eyes slit open. 

“Nancy?” he asks, voice slurring around the name.

The guy laughs, all shaky past whatever bravado he’s lightly veneered on. “Guess again, big guy.”

Steve squints, making his barely-open eyes even smaller. She’s not sure how he can see anything at all, but he says, “Munson?” all soft and confused as he looks up at the other guy. “What’re you doin’ ‘ere?” he asks, voice slurring alarmingly. 

The guy, Munson, laughs again, and uses his free hand to tuck his wild hair behind his ears. Max can see his face now, and he might’ve just been laughing, but he’s not smiling as he asks, “I could ask you the same thing,” in a tone of voice that doesn’t hide the worry behind all that forced nonchalance. 

She can feel their window of opportunity closing. This guy’s going to commandeer the car, whisk Steve to a hospital, and that’ll be the end of her night. No more quests. No more delay of the inevitable. 

 Her palms are sweaty, and her windpipes shrinking in on itself like it’s one of those milkshake straws that gets stuck together if the shake’s too thick. 

Billy’s going to kill her when he sees her again. There will be no Steve Harrington and no inexplicable bat full of nails between them. He’s going to kill her, and that’s not something she can fight. 

But this? This is a plan with steps they can take to make sure everyone comes out alive. She’s a dead man walking, but Will doesn’t have to be. 

And that girl with superpowers could probably use all the help she can get, no matter how cool she is. 

She steps on the gas pedal, careening past the guy’s van where it’s still blocking the road, and continues on her chosen path even as the backdoor shudders with each turn of the wheel, trying to shut on mystery guy’s legs. 

Everyone’s screaming, and she has no idea where she’s going, so she utilizes the lessons her family’s taught her on being heard and screams, “shut up!” at the top of her lungs until the car’s catching crickets in its silence. 

“Lucas?” she asks, something churning in her stomach as he squeaks with what sounds suspiciously like fear. “Where next?”

Still, he reaches out and puts his hand on her knee, squeezing comfortingly as he says, “turn right here.”

Max turns. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” the guy, Munson, hisses. “The hospital’s back there!”

And the guy must’ve made some sort of gesture that jostled Steve because he makes a small, wounded sound deep in his throat. Max adjusts the rearview mirror just so she can glare at Munson threateningly, barely avoiding careening into a mailbox. 

Munson’s looking down at Steve with sad, worried eyes from where he’s crouched half overtop him, using the hand not holding up his weight to pet Steve’s bloody hair back from his head. “Sorry, Stevie.”

“‘m fine,” Steve slurs out. 

Max rolls her eyes and focuses back on the road, ignoring whatever spectacle’s going on in the back seat. She’s got hours to live, and she’s going to make them count. 

It’s a few short turns, following Lucas’s instructions until she’s careening off the road and bouncing to a stop on a grassy knoll, the boys in the back screaming as she slams on the brakes. 

When she twists the keys and pulls them free, the headlights click off, bathing the clearing in darkness. 

Max is the first one out of the car. The back door’s still open, Munson’s feet sticking out until he slides out, tumbling into an ungainly heap in the grass. He groans, flopping around until he’s on his back, messy curls covering his eyes. 

Dustin’s out of the car next, stepping over Munson like he’s a log in his path, not even glancing down at him as he orders everyone around. “We have to hurry,” he says, squinting down at his watch. He turns back to the car, yelling out “Steve!” in a demanding tone, as if he hadn’t just been cradling Steve’s shoes to his chest like he was a dying baby bird. 

 Steve shuffles out at the sound of his name, much more graceful despite what she expects must be a wicked concussion. There’s a trail of blood starting at his hairline and trailing down his temple. “C’mon, Munson,” he says, holding out his hand to help the other boy up. 

Munson peeks through his fingers up at Steve before flinging himself up on his own steam, eyes wide as he looks around the clearing like he’s never seen one before. “Oh, is this what hospitals look like now?” he asks, feigning shock. “Where’s the doctor?”

“What the hell are you talking about, dude?” Steve sighs, hands on his hips as he glares at Munson. 

Munson screeches deep in his throat, loud enough that the rest of them wince. He gestures at all of Steve’s body which, yeah fair. “You’re fucked, dude!” he yells. “Your brain’s probably bleeding out your ears!”

Steve says, “no hospitals,” just as Dustin replies, “we can check his brain after,” and strides farther into the clearing without a backwards glance, like he expects everyone else to follow him without question. Max resists the urge to get back in the car and leave all these idiots to die. 

After all, Steve and Lucas are still here. The rest of them can burn, for all she cares. 

“I thought I made myself clear,” Steve says, hands on his hips like he’s someone’s beleaguered mother, even though he’s slurring, and Munson’s right: his brain’s probably leaking out his ears. “We’re on the bench!”

Dustin stomps back with a huff, clearly fed up with the delay. “Steve, you’re upset, I get it,” he starts. His flashlight’s on and blinding Steve as it’s shined directly into his eyes. “But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance.”

Munson laughs, halfway to hysterical as he pulls a hunk of unruly hair taught in front of his own face and bites it like a dog. Max wrinkles her nose, disgusted, but then the guy says, “what is this a live-action D&D game? And I thought I was a nerd,” and she sort of starts to like him. 

“Henderson,” Steve sighs, rolling his eyes when he’s immediately verbally bowled over.

“I know you promised Nancy you’d keep us safe,” Dustin says, finally pointing the flashlight away from Steve’s eyes, illuminating the ground between them. “So, keep us safe.”

Munson twitches beside Steve, inching closer to him as the silence lingers, showing exactly where his loyalties lie. But in the end, Steve sighs, shoulders slumping, and Max knows the plan’s back on. 

“If we’re doing this, we’re going to do it right,” Steve says, turning back to dig through the contents of Billy’s trunk as if it was his own. 

“Do what?” Munson cried, reaching up to pull his own hair by the root as he stomped his foot like a beleaguered father. 

When Steve turns back, he tosses a bandana at Munson’s chest. He scrambles to grab it, but it falls into the grass, and by the time he stands back up, Steve’s got a red bandana of his own tied around the bottom half of his face, and what looks like a pair of Billy’s old swimming goggles strapped across his eyes. The pressure’s got to be killer on his concussion, but Steve doesn’t complain.

He never seems to when it’s his own well being in question. Max kind of wants to stuff him back in the car and haul ass to the hospital, or better yet, out of this spooky fucking town entirely.

Munson’s just standing there, bandana clutched in his hand as he squints at Steve like he’s an alien. With the goggles making him so bug-eyed, she can’t really blame him.

“Put that on,” Steve says, pointing down at the bandana. “The air in the Upside-Down is like, toxic or something. Hop had to be on some sort of breathing machine.

Munson takes two steps forward and waves his hand in front of Steve’s face rapidly. “Hello? Anyone fucking in there?” When Steve smacks his hand down, Munson takes a quick hop back and throws his hands in the air, letting the bandana flutter back to the grass. “What the fuck is an Upside-Down? Have you cracked?”

“Eddie,” Steve sighs. He sounds tired down to his bones. Probably happens to anyone who has to deal with Dustin for more than twenty minutes at a time, never mind this new guy and whatever his damage is. 

He bends down to retrieve the bandana himself and steps forward. Munson – Eddie – takes a quick step back, eyes wide like he’s afraid he’s going to get his ass kicked. But all Steve does is brush Eddie’s messy curls off his shoulder and out of the way so he can tie the bandana around his face himself.

“Just trust me, okay?” 

Max turns away, feeling suddenly like she’s seeing something she shouldn’t as Eddie shivers and shakes beneath Steve’s gentle hands.

Welcome to the fic that I started writing in (checks notes), 2023???? I had a blast writing from Max's POV, and the rest of the kids are coming! As always, a thank you for @queenie-ofthe-void for the beta editing AND the full-on writing of some parts of this fic, coming soon! I will post the credit when we get to that <3<3<3 But honestly, the fact that I have written absolutely anything at any given time as a MINIMUM of 40% due to you so <3<3<3

[ghostscarface]

Snape and the Muggle Therapist

"She is just Lily"

Therapist: "So tell me more about your school experience Professor, you teached in a school ,where you were a student yourself, correct?"

Snape:"Precisely, but I don't want to dwell in memories, being surrounded by simple minded people".

Therapist:" Oh? I thought you spent most of your time in that school with Lily? I doubt you mean her. Why don't you tell me more of her."

Snape:" Why? So that you could dissect her? Pick her apart? Tell me what I should think about her?"

Therapist:" No, but you were best friends for years, who else should her know better ? I want to know the real Lily."

Snape:"She...was kind. Brilliant.The only light in my world. Always knew what's right and what's wrong"

Therapist:"And.. were there moments where she was unkind? Maybe judgemental?"

Snape:" No, no she always did.. well she laughed when other students made sloppy mistakes in class. Especially people from my....dorm. But that's not that bad."

Therapist:"So...even a kind girl can have her...moments."

Snape:"...She hated being wrong and always demanded being right.Never listened to me. Overreacted over the smallest things.But she was there for me, when no one else was."

Therapist:" Was she ever unkind...to you?"

Snape:"Not on purpose..She turned her back on me. Said she couldn't do it anymore."

Therapist:"Did you ever hurt her?"

Snape:" I made mistakes. I regretted it so much. She knew me. She knew, I didn't mean it."

Therapist:" Even kind people can walk away when they're hurt. Even bright girls with kind hearts."

Snape:" She had her flaws, like every person. She was self-righteous,such a ridiculously quick temper. She once mocked a girl for her secondhand books,telling me how it looked like her stuff survived a war. I thought I was special at that time, for telling me that. But I didn't want to remember that"

Therapist:" That's ...oddly specific."

Snape:" I spent years only to remember the good things. It was easier than to forgive myself or her, for just leaving me...or myself for being an idiot. I refused to just...let it go. I wanted to bathe in that pain... I thought I deserved it.And I still..do."

Therapist:"You loved a girl who wasn't perfect. That's okay. She didn't save you. She didn't owe you anything.".

Snape:"No. But it felt like she did. Since no one else tried."

Therapist:" Doesn't mean she was bad. It means she was just Lily. A normal teenage girl."

Snape:" A girl I pinned all my hopes on, because I had nothing else."

Therapist:" We grieve people as they were, not how we needed them."

[loserfag]

Suicide method list, in no particular order:

(BY FURTHER READING PAST THIS POINT YOU AUTOMATICALLY CONSENT TO READING ABOUT THE TOPIC MENTIONED ABOVE)

Wrist Cutting: realistically, this entails a considerable amount of force- you’d need to genuinely bash through your wrist with a razor or other such tool and wait a long time for the vein to bleed out and die. I mean why do you think people end up doing it in bathtubs. It’s never as easy as it looks in the movies either. You have a higher chance of leaving several suspicious downwards gashes on your arms than anything. The most efficient way you can actually achieve anything is with a scalpel or tool designed to cut through flesh but even then the average person is no surgeon. Someone has a 100% chance of finding your body injured or dead.

Car accident: has a higher chance of leaving you disabled or unharmed. Since it’s not even a surefire way of dying I don’t even know why the fuck I added it but I’ve seen some people unironically think it’s a surefire way to die.

Carbon monoxide (aka, sitting in your car with the engine on in your closed garage): also takes a considerable amount of time for you to die via this method- if you don’t live alone you have a higher chance of someone walking in on you trying than anything. You generally have a higher chance of leaving this alive, having damaged your respiratory system permanently or significantly.

Sleeping pills or generally, through medication: to kill yourself via anything OTC it would take a considerable dose. You would also need to wait a long time for it to actually get to killing you- realistically someone has a higher chance of finding you exhibiting some drastic side effect and taking you to the hospital where you’ll be brought back to life. Unless you have a surefire pill laced with some sort of cyanide or other poison will it be effective.

Hanging: one of the most painful ways to die. This one also takes a few minutes to actually asphyxiate yourself to death. The human brain and body can go up to 5 minutes without oxygen. Unless you immediately get your body to shut down after you’ve potentially snapped your neck with your own weight pulling you down is it a surefire way of death. But it’s not something you can guarantee happening, even if you’re a heavyset person. You also have a 100% chance at someone finding your body if you do manage to pull through with it. Hanging yourself diagonally or via doorknob is also the same bag and might I add even less effective.

Smoking: if you’re looking to kill yourself through smoking anything it’s going to take a few years, maybe even your whole life. One of the fucking stupidest ways to kill yourself but people still try via this method so I’m adding it.

Gun: unless you do this with a shotgun is this also potentially ineffective. If you’re aiming to kill yourself via a revolver or other gun that won’t make your head implode on impact like a watermelon the bullet may potentially miss your brain and leave you paralyzed for life or just brain dead. It’s why if you are aiming to kill yourself via revolver you’re better off putting it in your mouth and shooting upwards as straight as you can than to your temple. This is a rather messy way to kill yourself- unless you do this in an area where you’re absolutely sure no one will find you ever which I doubt someone has a high chance of walking in on your brains splattered everywhere.

Fall: falling to your death successfully is somewhat dependant on your height. A general rule is that 50% of all falls that are from three times your height are fatal. Example: a 6ft tall person has a 50% chance of dying from an 18ft. fall. However, the human head is a lot like a watermelon- can you imagine watermelon being dropped from 20 stories? Yeah. Also a messy way to kill yourself, someone will 100% have to clean up your brain off the floor or sidewalk.

Drinking bleach: you legitimately won’t be able to get any past your throat without it burning the shit out of your entire esophageal tube. If you try this you will most likely come of it alive and not even possessing the ability to eat solid food anymore. Your intestines would have probably suffered significant damage that you’d be unable to return to a normal life.

It’s so crazy that suicide prevention is just people going awwww don’t!! Awwww come on noooooooooo stopppppp

[gothamite-rambler]

Batman: Tell me why—

Red Robin (singing): Ain't nothing but a heartache.

Batman: You're not pulling that crap with me again. Tell me why—

Red Robin (singing): Ain't nothing but a mistake.

Batman seethed with rage as his friends stood nearby, suppressing their laughter.

Batman: Stop singing and tell me why—

Red Robin (singing, snapping his fingers): I never wanna hear ya call... me on my day off! Bye. Call me if it's to save the day and not a press junket!

Red Robin ended the call with the song, then went back to reading books with Stephanie, Konnor, and Bernard, while Batman glared angrily at his phone.

Batman: He... hung up on me?!

Wonder Woman (leaning forward with a smirk): After serenading you, too. Good singing voice.

Superman: I miss the Backstreet Boys. They made some good songs.

Batman: I’m going to bash my head against the wall because of these kids. I need one of them to be here! I hate going to these events alone.

Wonder Woman: Nightwing?

Batman: He’s in Hawaii with Starfire... I owed him that after dragging him out of bed when he was sick three weeks ago.

Wonder Woman: Red H-

Superman slapped his hand over Wonder Woman's mouth, nervous to hear the name of Red Hood since that man still hated him for technically stopped Batman from killing the Joker.

Superman: He's clearly busy with other things. What about the youngest Robin? That'd be a good look.

Batman: He's busy with school. Orphan doesn't like being in large crowds, that leaves... Nope. I refuse to call him.

Superman: I agree! Maybe Batwoman is free.

Wonder Woman: No, she's out of town visiting her sister. Since you two cowards won't call him, I will. I have his number.

Wonder Woman pulled out her phone, pushing Batman aside before he could snatch it. She dialed Red Hood. Superman sighed accepting this might happen.

Superman: Ask if Spoiler can come too. I need a former Robin who doesn’t hate me.

Wonder Woman: On it... Hi, Red Hood! Code red... Yeah, the others are busy. Can you bring Spoiler too?

Wonder Woman shoved Batman to the ground, continuing her chat with Red Hood about his week and their low-level mission, barely mentioning anything serious.

Wonder Woman: Oh, you’re still with Ravager? That’s good... Yes, I do think so, she’s got warrior blood in her too... How far along am I? Four months. I can keep fighting. It’s not until month six that I’ll have to take a break from heroics... Why thank you I do look fit.

Batman: He did not say that!

Wonder Woman turned away from Batman a wide grin as she kept talking to Red Hood.

Batman (trying to take the phone): We don’t need him for a press junket! Give me—

Wonder Woman throat-punched Batman, causing him to fall to the ground coughing. Superman chuckled as he approached.

Wonder Woman: Yeah, it’s a press junket... Yeah, nothing super serious. But I’d call you if it was a threat. I trust you can save the day, like any other Robin... Yes, I do mean that... Tsk, aww you're so sweet... Do you think you can be here soon with Spoiler?

Batman (covering his face while lying on the ground): This is mortifying.

Wonder Woman: Yes... yes, your father is mortified... I thought you’d find that funny... Batman, he's laughing.

Batman growled in anger.

Wonder Woman: Okay, see you both soon.

Wonder Woman ended the call and looked down at Batman.

Wonder Woman (playing innocent): Now Batman, what was it that you needed?

Batman (angry): I hate you.

Wonder Woman: Aww, love you too. Oh, and Superman, Red Hood requested you keep your distance from him, but he will bring Spoiler.

Superman (shrugging): Works for me.

[kjiscrawlingbackformore]

Peace - Act IV : Chapter four

Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Reader comes back to her hometown and transfers to Wiskayok High School after getting expelled from her previous high school. Follows Junior year into Senior year, all the way up to the crash. (Eventual NSFW mdni)

Warnings: None

The parking lot behind the gym was half-shrouded in fog, the kind of mist that settled low and heavy in late October. The bus wasn’t there yet, just the occasional clank of cleats hitting pavement and the quiet shiver of nerves that no one wanted to name.

Lottie leaned against the brick wall, jacket zipped halfway up, eyes focused across the lot. Next to her was Natalie. Lottie always ended up next to Natalie. It was this weird magnetic thing, Lottie just felt…safe around her?

You had asked Lottie once if she had a favorite girl on the team. And it was less about favoritism and more about being able to not pretend. She never answered you. But Lottie saw how you always took note about how they both always ended up next to each other.

Natalie lit the cigarette like she’d done it a thousand times before—because she had. She took a long drag, exhaled slow. “You nervous?”

Lottie shrugged, pulling her sleeves over her wrists. “I’m always nervous.”

Natalie offered the cigarette. Lottie took it with a nod, inhaled deep and let the burn settle in her chest like ballast.

They stood there like that for a second—quiet, still, watching you across the way. You were talking with Van and Mari, smiling, a little bashful in the way you always were when you weren’t behind a lens. Wind catching your curls. Laughing at something Van said.

Lottie couldn’t even help the soft smile planting itself on her lips. You were just so-

“She’s beautiful,” Natalie said out of nowhere pulling Lottie out of her thought.

Lottie turned, surprised. Not jealous…just surprised.

“Yeah,” Lottie agreed. “She is.”

Natalie took the cigarette back, the cherry burning low. “I had a crush on her once. Back when she first moved back. Sumer before Junior year.”

Lottie arched a brow. “Seriously?”

Natalie gave a small scoff, eyes still on you. “Stupid, right? She’s a girl. And she’s way too pretty and nice. Saw her at a party, she shared a blunt with me. Wanted to do something crazy, but you know. Would’ve made me feel light and melty inside. Couldn’t risk that. Figured she’d end up with some jock. Someone easy to read…like prissy Jackie.”

Natalie’s honesty makes Lottie think she has to be a little high to share this all with her. That truth doesn’t stop Lottie’s stomach tightened. If anything it makes it worse…because there’s truth based in the assumption. You should end up with someone easy to read. Someone like Jackie. A prick…but kind and easy.

You deserved someone easy. Not Lottie. Lottie was never easy.

“I know we all tease you guys, but…” Natalie shrugged. “It’s kind of nice that she hasn’t ended up with anyone. Makes me respect her more, I guess. She’s stayed by the whole ‘Not dating an asshole pact’ she said she has. But who the fuck knows—maybe something’ll happen. We still have homecoming and prom.”

Lottie didn’t respond. Just nodded, lips pressed tight. The cigarette burned closer to the filter. Natalie passed it again, and Lottie smoked like it might drown the sudden weight in her chest.

She knew you. Knew your laugh, your touch, the way you kissed like it was a promise. And she knew you would never do anything to hurt her. Not even close. But the way Natalie said it—casual, wistful—it planted something heavy in her stomach.

The bus rounded the corner.

Your eyes scanned the lot and landed on them. You gave Lottie a wink. Playful, soft. Then turned, backpack slung over one shoulder, and stepped onto the bus.

Lottie blinked hard, handing the cigarette back.

“Let’s win a game,” she muttered.

Natalie grinned. “Hell yeah.”

But Lottie’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She had a game to win. Everything else—she’d deal with after. The field was slick with cold sweat and late-autumn dew, floodlights glaring against the darkening sky. The score was tied—2–2—and the crowd was on its feet, a wall of noise and nerves crashing against the metal bleachers.

You stood just behind the yellow line on the sidelines, camera clutched tight in her hands. Her breath fogged in front of her, heart thundering like you were the one on the pitch. You tracked every pass, every steal, every frantic second bleeding off the clock.

Thirty seconds left.

Tai had the ball, her feet a blur—cutting past a defender like she was made of lightning. She darted too hard, too fast—and the other team’s forward slammed into her. The whistle blew sharp and loud. Foul.

The crowd roared. Coach Scott threw his hands up. Van jogged forward, jaw tight, and planted herself in the goal like she was made of stone.

You held your breath. The first shot—a bullet straight to the right. Van blocked it clean. The second hit the post. The third, a rebound, she caught like it belonged to her.

The sidelines erupted.

“Let’s go!” Van bellowed, fist to the sky, while the team reset for what might be their final possession.

Jackie sprinted toward Lottie, grabbed her by the sleeve and hissed something under her breath, something you couldn’t catch, but the look on Lottie’s face said enough. Conflicted. Nervous. Fired up.

“You better be right,” Lottie muttered.

Jackie grinned. “Always am.”

The whistle blew.

It happened in a blur. Lottie dribbling down the sideline, faking a pass to Mari, only to arc it—clean and wild and insane—straight across the field. Jackie, who had somehow broken past the defense, caught it mid-air with her chest, dropped it, and sent a blazing shot straight into the top left corner.

GOAL.

The world exploded.

The crowd screamed, the scoreboard flipped, and suddenly the field was chaos. Lottie was tackled by her teammates in a massive dogpile, shrieking and laughing all at once. Someone launched their water bottle. Coach Scott was losing his mind.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until your viewfinder blurred.

You clicked the shutter at the exact moment Lottie disappeared under the pile, face glowing, arms raised. The shot, pure, golden, wild joy. It looked like it belonged on the cover of Sports Illustrated.

And then—wham.

Jackie barreled into you, all sweat and muscle and dirt-streaked jersey, locking her into a massive bear hug.

“We’re going to state!” she yelled, lifting you off the ground like you weighed nothing.

You laughed breathlessly, hugging back. “Jesus—Jackie—put me down!”

“NOT A CHANCE!” Jackie laughed. “WE ARE GOING TO STATE!”

Before you could respond, Van joined in, then Natalie and Mari, arms flinging around you like you were part of the team too. You were being crushed in a mess of cleats and ponytails and damp jerseys, your camera jammed awkwardly between them.

“Okay okay I get it!” you wheezed, still grinning, heart full and wild. “We’re going to state!!”

They’d done it.

They were going to state.

And for one perfect moment, you felt it too—that shine, that spark, that belonging.

This was what it felt like to be part of something bigger.

[headcanon-everything]

Cough cough could I ask for some curt and rod hc? There's so little content with them I'm starving </3

Nsfw ones too... if possible

there is, I think my earlier post is one of like 4 things in the tag 😭 and I got you, they're under the cut 👀

Curt & Rod Headcanons

say it with me now: 🗣️ CURT IS A CANON MOMMA'S BOY

cuddle piles!! sometimes against your will as they decide you need a break and flop onto you, using their full weight to keep you from going anywhere

you can fluster both, but it takes work. Usually it takes you being sucrose sweet and sincere to make them actually bashful

Curt sleep talks and Rod snores. sorry not sorry but they totally do

they physically cannot stop making noise, even in sleep

WILL hold things above your head, and if you're a similar height or taller they'll toss it back and forth to keep it out of your reach

self care and hair days!! they both take a lot of pride in how they look so they're down for an evening in to pamper each other (not without teasing of course)

(they both about died laughing seeing each other in the face masks that have animals on them)

neither will say it but they're both suckers for seeing you in their clothes

it just feels so sweet and domestic that they don't know what to do with themselves (this manifests into teasing you and calling you a clothes thief)

cute agreesionnnnn, they wanna just squeeze your cheeks forever

Curt is half an inch taller than Rod, but Rod is petty and wears shoes that have extra thick soles so he's an inch and a half taller than Curt and gaslights him into thinking he's the taller one

and then will use this "fact" in an argument

I hope you're decisive because you will have to pick sides. often.

no hard feelings for either, but they will get pouty if you take ones side more often than the other

NOSY AF

you're going out? where? the store, which one? what are you buying? can we have some?

will steal food off of your plate if they want a bite and wont ask first (Rod is more likely but Curt isn't innocent)

good luck hiding presents or getting them a surprise gift

Curt is a chronic looker at presents, even since he was a kid. he's unwrap them and then re-wrap them

Rod doesn't surprisingly, but he's always asking what you're doing and where you're going so it's still a pain to hide a secret

while they're still objects, they get anxious whenever you're in a room they're not in or if you're out of the house - they're more stationary objects, and so they do tend to stress when you're out of one of their sights

if you leave the house while they're still objects, they're glued to the road waiting to be the first to spot your car coming back home

NSFW headcanons:

they're mean; they like to tease a LOT

the shade doesn't end when it's time for the bedroom, it just transforms into dirty talk

the two of them do not be quiet

they will sometimes talk to each other rather than you, a "man, did you see that? they're so excited for us" "I don't know, I think they can get a little louder"

Curt is usually the first to cave to you though, especially when you start begging

Rod wants to see you whine and tear up a little first

like fighting for who's in charge, the back and forth REALLY gets them going if you try to initiate or take control

but they will fight back - the push and pull is something they're excited about

the only way to really win is to turn them against each other;

it usually goes with you teaming up with Rod first, having Curt be the one who is the subject of your guys's attention

then after he is thoroughly exhausted, catching Rod off guard by teaming up with Curt to help him either get his revenge or to "help"

then you win with both boys being exhausted and putty under your fingertips

they LOVE it

[sepdet]

Russian Yelena Serova and Italian Samantha Cristoforetti the ISS in 2015:

As of March 2025, there have been 80 women in space, the majority from the US, but 20 from other countries. Some have flown on shuttle missions, some to the ISS, some (cosmonauts) on Soviet missions, some (taikonauts) Chinese.

There have been other private persons in space for various reasons besides tourism for the rich.

For example, Project Juno crowdfunded £7 million way back in 1991 to pay for a berth aboard a Russian Soyuz flight to Mir, sending the first Brit, Dr. Helen Sharman of the University of Sheffield, into space.

And Wally Funk, originally slated to fly into space along with the rest of the Mercury 13 (women aviators trained as astronauts, passing all the same tests as the Mercury 7 in the 60s), finally got her chance when she flew on Blue Origin at the age of 82.

The first six American women in space were recruited by Nichelle Nichols, following a speech she had given as a board member of the National Space Society in 1975:

“Come down from your ivory tower of intellectual pursuit, because the next Einstein might have a Black face—and she’s female.” Unbeknownst to her, “the top people [at NASA], the Administrator, James Fletcher at that time, and the head of the astronaut corps,… were in the audience and heard me take NASA to task.”

— Smithsonian Air & Space Museum

When NASA contacted her for suggestions, she became their top recruiter for several years using her extensive contacts among scientists and space enthusiasts through the NSS and fan conventions. She was indirectly responsible for Dr. Mae Jemison, who was inspired to apply to NASA's astronaut program after seeing Sally Ride in space.

Two decades earlier, there had been another space race, for the sake of national prestige rather than finding overlooked but capable candidates.

Russian worker and skydiver Valentina Tereshkova became the first woman in space on 16 June 1963. She remains the only woman with a solo space mission under her belt.

Much to her frustration, Wally Funk's, and that of all the other fully-qualified women trained as astronauts and cosmonauts, sexist officials denied them the chance to fly after she "won" the race for the USSR.

The second woman in space, Svetlana Savitskaya, flew to station Salyut-7 in 1982 (again to get a jump on the Americans, beating Sally Ride by a year), predecessor to Mir; in December 1983 she made her second trip to Salyut-7 and one-upped American Kathy Sullivan by performing the first female spacewalk.

Four Russian women have flown since, one to Mir in 1997 and three to the ISS in the 2000s.

China's first female taikonaut Liu Yang flew into space 49 years to the day after Tereshnova on the Shenzhou-9 mission, one of several that assembled space lab Tiangong-1. She returned to the finished space station Tiangong in 2022.

NASA's Artemis program has been training an international group that will include the first women to set foot on the Moon, but they'll now have to overcome the current White House's sexism and xenophobia (assuming DOGE didn't fire them already). So China may quietly take the lead, unless the ESA, Korea, Japan, or India decide to develop their own crewed launch vehicles now that neither the US nor Russia are reliable partners.

Postscript: while I'm glad for the chance to talk about the history of women in spaceflight and the sexism they've had to overcome, I'd like to gently question the bashing of successful women like Katy Perry for what I call "celebrity while female."

I used to join in that kind of bashing, because I find the US media's fixation on celebrity and sports news at the expense of science and international news intolerable.

But since Britney Spears became a media piñata, I've come to notice how often female pop stars get tarred and feathered in the public eye for "sins" when their male counterparts remain mostly unshamed and unnamed. (See:Taylor Swift, poster child of wasteful private jet emissions, when 97% of private jet owners are male.)

Katy Perry isn't writing those puff pieces about her less-than-historic flight. It's news outlets monetizing female celebs as clickbait.

Let's not play along. Let's do what we were doing for most of this thread: seizing the opportunity for a teachable moment. We can turn the spotlight back where it belongs without klonking the latest Britney Spears, Monica Lewinsky, Taylor Swift or Katy Perry on the head in the process.

"empowering women by sending katy perry to space for 2 minutes" shut the fuck up. samantha cristoforetti was the first female commander of the international space station and she became an astronaut because of star trek. and there is a real chance she is a kirk/spock shipper

[angelcakeeee]

Hello hello!!

Sorry for my on and off activity yall!! It’s been a wild ride the past couple of weeks. BUT ITS FINALLY HERE!!!! This is a continuation of the Actors AU of the Firefighter AU my lovely friend ( @us3rnam3-r3dact3d | https://archiveofourown.org/users/US3RNAM3_R3DACT3D/pseuds/US3RNAM3_R3DACT3D ) wrote!!!

That being said, there is some distinct physical descriptions for the characters. All listeners/readers are left gender ambiguous! Also, there are spoilers for the series in almost all of my writings from here. Read with caution!!

BLOOPER REELS #2

tags: redacted audio, redactedASMR, Sam, Darlin, Freelancer, Vincent, Milo, Gavin, Firefighter AU, EMT AU, Actors AU, mentions of acted out serious character injury, spoilers for the main series, go read the world (it burns through me), is it just forced proximity or is everyone here really hot?

(Freelancer)

You were exhausted, press release after press release was starting to wear you down. But… you enjoyed talking about the show. It was something you’d worked hard on. You’d put so many hours into your character and their motivations. Talked to so many actual EMTs to learn their experiences and feelings. So, you were glad to talk about that hard work.

“So, the crash scene.” The interviewer started. “Was that hard on you guys? It’s a very intense scene to watch— I can’t imagine the feeling of having to film it.” You and Vincent shared a look, and then laughed. Sam reached a hand over to pat your leg as if to say ‘take it away.’

“Well actually, it’s funny you ask.” You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up into your words. “A couple of the clips that made it to the Final Cut aren’t all acting. The part where I have to cut the seatbelt with the trauma scissors was scripted, but what wasn’t scripted was that I forgot to brace for the fall and hit my head real bad.”

Vincent nodded, “dude it was like the head bang heard around the world, it scared the shit out of everyone.”

Sam laughed, pointing at you. “And you just kept goin’ too, did nearly a whole take like that before you tapped out.” You nodded in response, getting maybe a bit bashful. It was always nice when Sam talked you up to people, it made you feel proud.

“I was determined. Because it’s so intense of a scene I wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible. I hate yelling at people.” You crossed your legs, looking over to Sam for a little encouragement. His soft, reassuring brown eyes met yours and you two exchanged a look that you didn’t quite understand what it meant. Whatever it was made you get embarrassed and look away, turning back to the interviewer.

“I really love everyone who worked on this show, you know? We all got really close and actually loved being around each other which can be rare for such a drama filled show. Sometimes characters get in the way of actually becoming close.” You shrugged and folded your hands into your lap. “It’s really nice to have people you care about but it does make it significantly harder to film more intense scenes like that.”

Vincent poked you a little too hard. “Especially when they keep messing up the lines.” He teased. You groaned and rolled your eyes.

“Ugh, yeah. Remembering lines in a scene like that is rough, let alone trying to improvise when someone misses or flubs a line. It’s nobody’s fault, but it can definitely spark frustration.” You looked around playfully as if just speaking about this would somehow get you into trouble. “Poor Milo kept missing his lines and I was getting so frustrated about it that some of my lines in there weren’t scripted. Vincent broke a couple of times and we had to restart the whole thing.”

Vincent raised a finger like he’d just remembered something. “Yes! And there’s a take that didn’t make it into the Final Cut but in one of the things I had made someone loosen the straps on the backboard they had me on, and we forgot to tighten them again before doing another take so when they went to move the backboard onto its side I just rolled right into this one’s lap.” He jabbed the air with his thumb in your direction.

You laughed, nearly doubling over in your seat and shaking your head. “oh my god! Yes! It scared me so bad, I remember yelling and scaring everyone. Even tank came running to make sure I was okay.” You thought back to when that sweetheart of a person had nearly pushed everyone away from the truck and poked their head in to check on you. It was sweet, out of all the people in the cast, you’d always seen them as the most similar to their character. That’s why you’d started calling them by their character’s nickname. A bunch of others in the cast did too.

Sam had perked up a bit when you mentioned them, to which you gave a knowing smile. They weren’t public yet, but everyone in the cast knew. You were sure it would come out pretty soon, the media had a knack for finding people out much quicker than they wanted. They were cute. You’d never seen Tank soften as much as they did when Sam had a hand on them. You loved seeing people love each other. You looked back at the interviewer and smiled warmly.

“So yeah, a couple people got chewed out for real during that scene. It was a rough one. Lots of apologies were said.” You felt your face get a little red. You were still a little embarrassed about how upset you’d gotten that day.

Sam patted your back. “It’s okay, we still love you.” He teased. Vincent nodded in agreement. The rest of the interview went smoothly. Lots of laughs, smiles, and stories were exchanged. When you finally got out, Gavin was waiting for you just off set. You giggled when he whistled at you, and gave him a little spin to show off.

As soon as you were in range, his hands found your hips. It was easy for him to appreciate you. It was something that drew you to him in the first place. During filming, he’d been directed to be touchy, but the chemistry between you two never stopped when you stepped off set. You found yourself drawn to him at every gathering. Every event. He, of course, obliged you every time. He found it cute how easily it was to get you bashful.

Even now, nearly a year into your relationship, you still got blushy when he complimented you. It made your stomach twirl with nervousness and excitement every time, especially when he wasn’t afraid to tell everyone just how amazing he thought you were. He took nearly any chance he got to compliment you— even when you weren’t even there.

He’d done it once when he was being interviewed on the red carpet. It’s how he announced his relationship with you.

“You have many adoring fans across the world, Gavin.” The interviewer had teased. He seemed excited to bring up the subject, and Gavin had playfully rolled his eyes in response. You were off talking to someone else— completely oblivious to what was happening.

“I do.” Gavin shot back, glancing over to you for a brief moment. So brief, in fact, it didn’t even catch your eye. You two weren’t particularly hiding your relationship, neither of you cared about when or how it got out. But… you did like your privacy. You preferred to show affection behind closed doors. At first.

“What do you think of all that? Anyone at home getting jealous about it?” A prod from the interviewer. Testing the waters. Gavin hummed, a smirk forming across those beautiful lips of his.

“Darling?” Gavin called, looking over to you again. Your head turned on instinct, eyes widened with soft questioning. Such a natural reaction to him that it took you a moment to process what you’d just done, in front of a camera, on live TV. Your face flushed, but you pushed past the nervousness easily simply by holding eye contact with Gavin. He offered out a hand, and you politely excused yourself from the reporter you’d been entertaining.

“Actually.” Gavin started, his hand finding your hip opposite of him as your hand snaked around his waist. “My partner doesn’t mind my fans one bit.” He smiled, eyes flicking down to you as your free hand found his chest. A check in. You smiled up at him, as always, and hummed.

“Oh well this is a big development!” The interviewer chirped, no doubt internally celebrating the win of his crew getting the news first. Cameras flashed like nobody’s business, people crowded. That’s what happens when two actors from one of the top TV shows in the nation— if not the world— announce their relationship on the red carpet.

The next moments had been a blur of paparazzi, Gavin’s voice, and probably many other things you were a little too overwhelmed to process. It was hard to get used to all of the things that came with getting a big break. You’d never expected to book this role, let alone for the show to end up as big as it had.

Gavin’s hand on your face brought you back to the present, the zoned out look on your face having caused him to bring you back from your daydream. “Earth to Deviant. You still in there?”

You giggled and kissed him, rolling your eyes. “Yes, I am.” You replied, pretending to be annoyed with him. He took no offense to it. Of course.

“Well, why don’t we go and meet up with Lasko and Huxley like we said we would and get some sushi in you?” He asked, kissing your forehead. You rolled your eyes for real when you heard Vincent’s exaggerated ‘aww’ from across the room.

“I’d love that.” You purred, stealing one last kiss from Gavin and letting him lead you towards the exit of the building.

[pulpfiction-cowqirl]

Depp was always gonna happen. Diddy was always gonna happen

We let people get away with murder and I’m not talking about a couple years in prison, I mean no punishment at all. What’s makes you think they would punish someone for the act of harming you but leaving you alive? If they don’t take murder seriously, they sholl not gon take sex crimes seriously. As far as they’re concerned, you are alright

But historically they’ve never taken either crime serious as they happen in tandem:

America was built on raping and pillaging Black and Native people and no one was ever held accountable. Then it became a military superpower and sent soldiers to commit sex crimes against other nations and never punished them

America even lets other men get away with raping each other in prison, or let’s guard of any gender have sex with them

America let white men cut off the penis of black men BEFORE or after a lynching to be EATEN or sent as a souvenir

America raped Native women to breed out the indignity of their children and civilize them in Catholic/Christian schools

America raped Black women on the plantation due to objectification and negrophilia

There was no national movement of court justice after the Civil War/Jim Crow. Nobody was executed. Some of yall shouldn’t even be here, but your great peepaw got off and was even compensated then he passed his capital and morals down

None of this is new. It amazes me when people come on here and think shit started in the 21st century, let alone the 2020s

These things won’t change till yall catch up. They don’t even be masterminds, they not playing a couple steps ahead. It’s that yall ignore history and think shit started when you woke up today

You letting dumb men pull the wool over your eyes, when all you gotta do is reach up and lift it. So fucking easy. And BLACK AND NATIVE women tell yall this shit before hand and you ignore them

But you pick your white man of the month, you let a man whisper in your ear about lavish things without ever producing evidence, you let a professional abuser thrust his hips and sing and suddenly your mind is wiped as long as he marry you and got money to provide you a future where you can exploit the labor of someone else. because he ain’t got to be cute (I see yall draft picks) and if he is, all he need is money. yall love capitalism

Depp spritz cologne in a commercial, played a quirky pirate and sung a few musicals and… that’s all it took cuz yall love capitalism

I always knew men were gonna stand by Depp, Diddy, DDG, Chris Brown, Tory Lanez etc. But watching women contribute to it…

Some of yall want benevolent patriarchy and capitalism

But maybe I was the fool, when white women could bash mixed babies skulls and toss them in the river after her husband’s affairs, or watch with gleeful faces with her children as a black man was hung

Maybe I was the fool, when black girls say their first competitor was their mother. That she was put out for a boyfriend. That she told her that man was molesting her. That she told the whole family/church what her uncle did but she only got called Jezebel and fast

And don’t get me started on boy moms of any race

We have got to stop idolizing men and women who benefit from a man’s dollar or validation

Girl. I truly blame the Depp trial for this, like we're fucked if mountains of proof can't get a man convicted of sex crimes.

[thecoochiefairy]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄. you did this.

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 along the wooden floors, on the search for her father to play with her. But as her small body took a couple more steps, the tension felt within the next room caused her to halt in place. Placing her dainty fingers against the door, she peeks through the crack as she listens.

"Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Sybil?”

“Who the hell are you talking to like that?”

He composes his frustrations.

 "I just—I’m tryna’ understand why I’m not going with Bambi to Providence. Any other time she leaves, I’m with her for safety reasons. Now all of a sudden it's confidential? You know can't fight by herself.”

"She's not going there to fight, Iver. Adonis said he wanted to speak upon some things regarding the treaty. I didn’t see an issue with it."

"Why not send me by myself? Alone?” 

Sybil stared at her son, sighing exasperatedly. 

She never had to say how she felt out loud—he knew.

Iver’s voice went low, "You think I'm weak.”

"If I believed you were weak, you'd never be the leader of my Protectors."

"Well thank you, Momma,” he sneers, “That really helps."

The moment she pressed her hand against his face, his jaw seemed to soften at the touch. 

"Bambi is an independent woman, Iver. Nothing is going to happen to her.” 

"You're doin’ it again.”

Sybil’s eyebrows raised questionably, watching him remove her hand from his face, "That manipulative bullshit you do. Bambi's independence has nothin’ to do with her safety!"

"It has everything to do with it, actually. It means that if she needs to protect herself, she’ll do so— Maybe she'll show those dogs who truly lead.”

"I've never understood your repugnance towards Providence. They saved us when we were almost ki—"

"Don't tell me what they’ve done for us like I don't already know, Iver."

"So then why are you constantly bashing them?"

"Unlike New Salem, Providence is an unruly democracy—I don't allow you to run freely and do whatever you please. Things like that allow us to be seen. Being seen means being killed. Need I remind you what happened when you were a baby?” 

Iver went silent, memories flooding through his mind. The gunshots. The need to escape and the fear of death—it was something he never wanted to experience again.

"What you need to worry about is that damn child—"

"This isn’t about Sin. I'm not even finna' go there with you right now.”

The child behind the door continues listening, hearing her grandmother's tone. Even for a seven year old, a frown came to her lips. 

"I know what this is really about,” Iver sneers, “You're threatened that she could take leadership of this coven. It wouldn't surprise me if you were sending my wife off to be killed.”

Sybil stared at her child. After a moment, she began laughing. Laughing. It was simple and highly obnoxious.

“If your wife was a threat to me, she’d be dead. It wouldn't be anything I had to sit and plan out."

Iver’s jaw clenched. 

Sybil then continued, “The real problem is you being threatened by all the women in your life. It scares you that Bambi could be higher up than you are—not to mention your lack of abilities. You're not ready to lead this coven, and it’s becoming extremely apparent.” 

"Momma—"

"Decades ago I carried you in my arms, escaping witch hunters trying to kill my original coven. They’d discovered white witches, but it never crossed their mind to think black witches existed too. So we were safe—For a while—Up until they caught onto our act. We attempted to flee as they came into our area, our houses, our homes. I made it out. Most didn’t. Through all of that, I kept you in my arms, refusing to let anyone harm you. I still do that,” she snarled in return, “So the fact that you come in here accusing me of trying to put Bambi in harm's way? Disappoints me. If my decision is to send one of my best Protectors to go speak to Providence Pack, then that is my goddamn decision,” she spits, “That’s final.” 

Iver had nothing else to say. Correction, he couldn’t have anything else to say. Opening the door to an empty hallway—he never noticed Sin hiding behind the wall.

Hearing the argument between her grandma and father was something she couldn't stop thinking about, wondering if her grandma wasn't as nice as she thought she was. But all of that flew out the window as she sat against her bed, both of her parents appearing in the room with smiles of excitement to see her. Her almond eyes creased upwards as she smiled, Iver seating Sin on his lap atop of the lavender comforter set. 

"Hey—mommy has to leave, okay? But she'll be back as soon as you wake up tomorrow,” Bambi smiles, brushing Sin’s face with her fingers.

"Where are you going?" The child asked. They could hear the sadness in her voice.

"Adult stuff, like Daddy does every day?"

"Can I come?"

"No, no. It's very dangerous for girls."

"So why are you going?"

Both adults looked at one another, surprised at the question.

Bambi corrected, "Little girls, it's dangerous for little girls. Mommy's a big girl, and she can handle herself.”

She stood from the bed, giving Sin a kiss to the forehead. She raises her lips to meet her husbands, gaining his attention as she repeats to him, “"I will be back."

Bambi said her final goodbyes before she exited the room, a silence almost deafening as they both stared at the open door. Sin looked up at her father— he could see on her face that she wanted to ask one more time, was she really coming back?

"She'll be back, Sin.”

He reassured himself as well.

[someone-help]

wow finally some art

big sketchdump and maybe some yapping idk

tw swearing

yeah all the screenshots will have little comments becasue I cant keep my mouth shut lol

starting off w/ some space division continuation/au I made!! its about Two coping w/ his bsf's loss meanwhile one overcoming her bottled fears of treading into the unknown

the photo was a wiki snatch not mine

interstellar monopolization spree with mama <3

everyone shut up and look at my child shes so confident I'm so proud of herrrr

also the gold rings don't really mean anything I guess theyre just part of her redesign (like, yk how 11-20 got redesigns in the pride month post? I'm also planning redesigns for everyone else)

HOLY SHIT I FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE THEM SMALLER YES

also two depression arc welp

also I got lazy In the second panel and didn't bother finishing the limbs idk

theyre so sibling coded I love them

i legit forgot how to draw them though I'm kind of a perfectionist when it comes to numberblock block size so I kind of died here

also take cover I sense a wild lowjay approaching uh oh

also there's this shitty god/overlord au I made idk if I'll even do anything with it I just love dystopia lol

SWEET FUCKING CHRIST i give you ALL full permission to bash me for procrastinating, it not being colored, and doing the times tables kinda dirty :( this is a hot mess but hey at least I finished it(sort of)

this is just a twelve. not a whole lot to it. just a nice twelve :)

metropolis 1920's-dramedy-esqe numberland au... I actually kinda like this one wow

click for better quality

info/lore in alts!!

pretty much centers on the nine multiples because that nine's time to shine opening gave me a vision but other characters are in here too

also now I'm kinda into pixel art lol

i just did this out of boredom

the pansexual bitchass fucker I LOVE him

bro I need to stop swearing lol

everything above this is magma btw

yes this is that Adventure Time x Numberblocks AU three of you like for some reason

also I made up this trope I liked where every episode Two has a different hat on lol

and I cant figure out one's fixed design ugh

i thought this quote was cool yet mysterious so I put it in here, mot really lore but idk

human seventeen I guess?? I never really made human designs for any of the blocks (except twelve, I still cant get over how well that came out)but this is a start I guess

AND NOW... THE IRL PICTURES....

oh shit how do I do this wait hold on

WHAT IN GODS NAME IS THIS CAMERA DOING BRO SOME LIGHT WAS FLASHING AND I TRIED NOT TO SHOW MY HAND IT WAS SO HARD

nah ill post the irl pictures later that's all for now folks! drink water and stay safe !!!

[lxchadora]

That squeeze was something Rosita hadn't expected, not having mentioned anything regarding how she felt about what had just unfolded. Either the other woman had that much insight and could read people well, or Rosita's distress was beginning to show. She hoped it wasn't the latter. The last thing she wanted was to seem scared and insecure when people were relying on her. She knew that she had to keep her composure, or the others would struggle to keep up theirs, too. For once, she was glad someone else took over. It was in her nature to almost always somehow end up in charge of situations, and maybe sometimes it was for the best. If there was one thing Rosita could do, it was keeping a straight head in shit situations. But right now? Right now, it was probably for the best that Kyleigh led the way.

She noted how efficiently the woman took out the dead soldier, not fumbling when removing his rifle, even managing to find a pistol. Smart thinking, to lift that shirt. Rosita just hoped those weapons had ammo. If it came down to it, having scavenged those might just save their lives if they ever got swarmed.

There was something on the third floor, judging by the scent of decay. On each side of a main hallway branching into two more hallways to the left and right, there were doors left open. Someone must have not bothered to close them behind them, or maybe they never got to close them because they didn't make it. "Someone go shut the one on the left, someone the one on the right!" Rosita exclaimed, being the first to shut the left door just before a pair of four dead could get to them.

Irina had run to shut the other one before Rosita had finished her sentence, the door separating them from another small pack. Warren assured everyone that the doors would last awhile upon hearing Irina's worries, followed by her seeking even more reassurance by asking for a specific estimate of time. As Warren began to ramble, Rosita shushed the two, not wanting to make too much noise. As fast as they were moving, they were making enough of that already. Another path was blocked by the group by quietly barricading the way with a shelf; just in case, right before they opened the door leading to the walkway.

"Let's check the area around the building, so we don't get ambushed when we leave it," Rosita announced, knowing that the dead could linger just about everywhere and ambush you at any times. The last thing she wanted is to check the building, find it has been overrun, run out and see dead ones blocking the way. "If there's too many, we run back."

Much to her surprise, the area had no walking dead. Glancing at the at least half a dozen of bodies, all of which had reanimated judging by their rotten looks but been taken out, she noted that none of them had headshot wounds. Turning to her companions, Rosita spoke, "Someone must have killed them. Bashed their heads in. That could be a good sign."

That meant someone who knew how to take care of themselves might be out there. And given the amount of bodies - Rosita counted eight - she thought it must have been more than a single person who had taken them out. Of course, she knew it wasn't a guarantee. Maybe they eventually managed to get themselves killed. Maybe this had happened weeks ago. But if they killed a few dead around the building, maybe they have done some clearing inside the building too.

"Time to check what's inside," Rosita moved forward, relieved that through the glass windows on the door she couldn't see any threats. Warren was quick to knock on those windows, pointing out that the glass was plexiglass, which first earned a frown from Rosita, but then she understood. If there were any undead in there, they would come out now. Good thinking. They could then position and angle themselves to take it out relatively safely, open the door and get rid of them. Maybe let them come out in waves if they were within some distance to each other instead all at once, closing the door in-between dead breaking out.

But she saw nothing coming towards them, so she decided to open the door, not wanting to waste too much time. Another unpleasant smell hit Rosita, something that smelled like chemicals rather than a rotten scent. Irina was able to place the scent, noting that it was the smell of enzyme cleanser, something she once used to get rid of the smell of vomit after her daughter vomited on her blanket. Better than the smell of decay, Rosita thought, but she didn't voice her thoughts and said nothing unlike Warren who quipped that there must have been a lot of vomit in that hallway to need that much cleaner, or that the scent of the stuff was just crazy.

"It doesn't usually smell that strong, you usually use it for bodily fluids, the worse the odor of the bodily fluids is, the more you use- and.. and the smell fades after like an hour. Wait- oh my God- someone cleaned this hallway of guts, maybe?" Irina responded, keeping her voice low as if speaking any louder would alarm the dead.

Shit. That was not a long amount of time by any means, but if they wanted to stick to their plan it was going to have to be enough. Or they were going to have to give themselves some more time. If this was Kyleigh by herself she wouldn't even keep track, just go with the flow of things and see where it took her. But she knew how important it was for them to keep moving, to not waste time. She gave Rosita another nod, not wanting to call anymore attention to the fact that this was one disaster after another. Both of them were probably going to blame themselves for any kind of shit that happened even if it was way beyond their control. Strong women were just that way, but Kyleigh was hanging onto the hope that it would motivate them to keep this small group alive. At least long enough to allow them to make it out of this and on the road back to their families.

The third woman in their group did have a good idea with barricading the door, but that was something they should do when they were done on that floor. They only had one more to go after this then it was onto that walkway. If it was stable enough to hold their weight. Just because it was still in one piece didn't mean it was safe but they would have to make it there first to find out.

"I agree. Let's get the weapons and then move the sofa over to block the door. So far it's just one that I can see, so that shouldn't be too hard to take care of. Everyone watch each other's backs and stay together."

As Kyleigh moved in front of the group to be the one to open the door she gave Rosita's shoulder a squeeze, trying to tell her without saying the words that this wasn't her fault. Any one of them would have done the same thing. What was done was done, it was time to push forward and make sure that all of them survived this journey. Kyleigh tried to push the door open as quietly as she could, the motion immediately drawing the attention of the half gone soldier. Its head turned in their direction and began to drag its body towards them. This time it was easier to take the creature out, Kyleigh simply knelt down and pushed her knife into the side of it's skull. Softly she set the head back down, then nodded for the others to come over.

There was a larger rifle strapped to it's back, once that it was removed Kyleigh lifted up the blood stained shirt to reveal a smaller pistol tucked to the side where the lower half of the body used to be. Other than that there wasn't anything else left to take so the body was left there to fully rot or get eaten by the others. The half lycan still wasn't sure if they only ate living flesh or that of the fallen as well but she damn sure didn't want to find out.

That all too familiar growl came to her ears, Kyleigh's head snapping up to see two full bodies turning the corner. They must have been office workers, they still had business attire on and the female one had a badge clipped to her jacket. "Time to go." Kyleigh whispered.

Quickly the four made their way back out through the doors and moved the sofa over in front of them. That would be enough to keep those other dead ones from attacking them as long as they were in this building. Without a word Kyleigh began to climb the stairs to the third floor, more slowly this time in order to make sure that if anything should jump out at them this time they would all be ready.

[thatrandyalexfroma03]

So I did some idea bashing with @betterthanfakemouthstatic and @fiyaerrigan - who honestly are both amazing and supportive and so damn smart, because I wanted to build on Zach's doucheness but also his growth, and my original idea was too far into unlikeable, when fiyaerrigan suggested building it as a flashback. So here is the first draft

Btw, while I am not trans, I will always be pro-trans rights, because keep your nose out of someone elses pants, okay? So, here starts either chapter two of Zach One shots or Chapter 10 of still alone.

In the present day, on the basketball court, Tommy wiped the sweat off his brow and went to give Zach a good game handshake, which of course turned into a bear hug because what else would Zach do? 

“Alright, alright…” Tommy laughed, shoving at his chest. “I’m hot….”

And sticky, and sweaty, and Zach was just as hot, sticky and sweaty... although he wasn't yet doused into too much Axe Africa, so that was a bonus.

“Damn right you are, Daddy-T.” Zach winked, shameless as ever, because some things never change. Including the shameless grope of Tommy's biceps.

Tommy rolled his eyes, although, granted it was affectionately “Mmm, I should have seen that coming… no.”

He held up a warning finger before Zach could even open his mouth again, he had been hanging around Zach long enough to know what was coming.

“No. Just…no. Whatever you’re about to say, no.”

Zach bounced on the spot, with that stupid grin on his face as he put his aviators back on, “Dude, relax.”

Now, Tommy could point out that relaxing around Zach was dangerous, especially if the idiot had a marker in his hand or a bowl of warm water, or whatever childish prank he thought was amazing today, but instead, he changed the subject, “So, what are you doing tonight?”

And for once in his life, Zach looked actually conflicted, his perfectly trimmed brow furrowed in a way that actually suggested thought. Actual, honest-to-god reflection. Tommy nearly called for a medic.

Even more so, given it was Saturday and they had no work tomorrow, like the answer should of been a simple 'getting wasted bro'.

“Dude,” Zach began slowly, fidgeting with the hem of his sweaty white singlet, “can I be real with you for a sec? Like… man to man?” even leaning as if it was a secret. 

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the question, but nodded anyway.  “Sure, why not. I enjoy regret.”

“Cool, cool, legit…” Zach took a deep breath. “So, you know Candy, right?”

Ah, yes, the infamous Candy who squirts, which by the way, Tommy did not ask.

“Mmm, well you’ve only mentioned her name about, oh, about seventeen hundred times this week. Hard to forget a name like that.”

“Right? So, like, she’s insanely hot. Like, unfair levels of hot. And she used to be a stripper, and bro…” he made vague, enthusiastic gestures in the air, “...she knows all these moves, and she’s like always on. It’s, like, spiritual ya know.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes, attempting to reel him in before he went off the deep end.  “Zach. Focus. Was there a real part to this conversation, or did you just need someone to witness your personal highlight reel?” 

Hopefully Tommy had caught Zach before he started drooling front of him. 

Zach blinked, mid-gesture, as his brain clicked and he remembered his point.  “Oh, shit, sorry T-Bone, anway right. Yeah. Sorry. Got off track huh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “Okay, so… I kinda gonna see her tonight and…”

Zach looked around, “I have to like end end things with her bro, and it sucks ass… as oppose to eat ass, which I love…”

“Zach!.” Tommy warned, before sighing again, which seemed to be his default around Zach to be honest “So why are you ending things with this amazing, beautiful, horny Candy?”

Zach bounced on his feet again, “Dude get this right, she like … she legit invited me to join a trans rights group on Facebook, bro.”

Tommy didn’t know what he was expecting, but still this, this was disappointing. “Right, terrible.” as he went to walk away, before he paused as Zach continued.

“Look, bro, like I know everyone has different views, right, and we should respect that right, but come on, I can’t vibe with someone like that, I mean, bro, have you seen the news lately? It's disgusting.”

Tommy folded his arms. “Do you ever think about using even an ounce of critical thought, or just blindly following those podcasts of yours?” 

"Wait... are you angry at me?" Zach asked, frowning at the idea.

"No, just a little disappointed in your attitude." Tommy snapped.

Zach looked lost for a second, “Nah, bro, there’s no way you agree with Candy, come on man, you’re like a no-nonsense kind of guy…”

Tommy weighed up his options before opting for words, because for all his flaws, Zach listened to him, mostly, well sometimes. “Zach. Listen carefully. Everyone, and I mean everyone has the right to live their life the way they need to, without fear or shame. That’s not up for debate.”

Zach nodded slowly, still clearly confused. “Right man? That’s like totz my point, bro. Like, okay it seems wild to me that someone would want to chop off their dick right? Like my dick is the best part of me, or one of them, honestly between these abs and…”

“Zach… on track please, for the love of god.”

“Umm, I’m just saying, like I love my dick, it's great and while I legit don’t get it but whatever, ya know, like it’s not my bish right? so follow your heart and all the jazz bro, but these people are just like Karens right? I don’t vibe with the hate, even when her tits are massive bro, like…” and for his benefit, Tommy assumed, Zach made the big tit gesture. 

Tommy narrowed his eyes as his brain processed Zach for a second, trying to decode his speak before daring to ask the next question “Right, this group she invited you to was it for trans rights, or against them?”

Zach looked confused, and it was almost adorable, almost, “Uh, dude what the actual fuck, it was anti of course, why would I have an issue with it otherwise, it’s like nasty nasty, no amount of sloppy road head can redeem those comments and… and Candy stands by it all. Like she’s mad proud of it.” 

Oh, thank god Tommy thought to himself. "So, just to be clear, you're not anti-trans right, but Candy is?"

Zach stood there for a second, squinting like he was trying to read a street sign from across the state line. Then his expression shifted to sad, somehow, even slightly disappointed in Tommy. Tommy hadn't seen Zach this disappointed in him since he broke up with Buck last.

“Oh bro… no cap… you really thought ya boy Zach would be, like, on the wrong side of that?” He shook his head slowly, as if Tommy had just failed a vibes check. “T-Bone, c’mon, it’s basic stuff.”

He gestured vaguely at the sky.

“Like, the whole anti-trans hate train? That’s just, ya’know, a big shiny ‘look over here’ from the suits while they’re out here dumping acid in the drinking water or whatever. Same playbook they use with immigrants, dude. It’s like totz classic deflection bro. Meanwhile, I got zero beef with trans people. A trans dude’s not gonna frack my neighborhood or crash the economy, bro. Like legit, that’s Chevron energy, not queer energy, ya feel me dawg?”

Tommy just stared at him, for a long, silent moment, feeling oddly proud, mostly. Then finally he broke the silence, risking ruining the moment just to confirm that Zach was in fact doing the right thing “Mhmm, right, so let me get this straight…”

Zach opened his mouth with a smirk, ready to say something stupid, so he was still Zach.

“Don’t.” Tommy cut him off, finger raised like a warning shot. He continued, “So, you’ve got this walking fantasy, who does all sorts of unimaginable things to you, from what I’ve unfortunately heard first hand over my lunch breaks, training missions, basically whenever you open your mouth and you’re ending it… because she posts anti-trans garbage online?”

Zach frowned, surprisingly serious. “What can I say T-Bone? Sometimes the hardest choices are the right ones, bro… Besides, like honestly, why is she more worried about someone else’s dick than mine?"

Tommy stared at him, then bit the inside of his cheek. “Mmm. I’m gonna let you have that cheesy line because, somehow, against all odds, you're actually being decent.”

Zach perked up, grinning. “Zach attack always does something decent dawg, Imma a legit good guy.”

Tommy folded his arms. “Night Markets, eight months ago.”

“Bro, come on, that was a mistake…”

“A mistake.” Tommy replied, “Mmm…”

//Flashback begins//

The 626 Night Market at Santa Anita Park was worth the hype; it truly was an amazing experience of Asian culture, food, merchandise, crafts, and everything else. Buck wandered around, taking in the sights, the sounds, and, more importantly, the taste, as Tommy trailed behind him. Until Buck literally walked into him, crashing into the back of Zach.

“Fuck with a B!” Zach called out as he noticed Buck, pulling him in for a tight hug, before gripping his shoulders, “Fuck bro, I would motorboat those pecs of yours for sure if you didn’t have Daddy T.”

Thankfully, Zach turned his attention to Daddy T himself, “Yo, Daddy T! What up, bro? Like, no lie, I legit did not see you showing up here.”

Tommy shared a long, weary look with Buck before clearing his throat. “Uh-huh. And why’s that, Zach?”

Zach leaned in slightly. “Well, no offense, obviously but like, you’re kinda… ya know, old and boring. I figured you’d be chillin’ at some quiet-ass pub somewhere, sippin’ your dusty beers and watching, like, football or basketball or…I dunno….something with balls. If you catch my drift.”

// Flashback pauses for a second///

“Woah, woah Daddy-T, I would never call ya boring, or old.” Zach protested.

Without a word, Tommy pulled out his cellphone and flicked through his messages, and to be fair, he didn’t have to go that far at all before putting the phone up for Zach to read.

Zach rolled his eyes at the message that *he* had sent, calling Tommy a ‘boring old fart.’ before he shoved his hands in his shorts pockets, “That, is taken seriously out of context bro, and…and you know it, don’t you.”

“Mmm, and the rest of that night?”

//Flashback continues: Eight months ago at the nightmarket //

Now, Tommy would never resort to violence, but the thought of a little slap did course through Tommy’s mind as he stared at Zach, who was standing in front of him at the night markets looking very smug. 

“Huh, well, thank you for that brilliant summary of your interpretation of our free time.” Tommy replied instead as Buck chuckled beside him, “And, what brings a young stud, looking for adventure here then?” 

The sarcasm and passive aggressiveness flew straight over Zach’s head. “Yo boys, your boy  Zach is on a date with a solid ten, well okay, more a nine but she’s legit hot and even better, I’ll be in her pants straight after midnight dawgs.”

Tommy shook his head, “Right, is this how you talk about your girlfrie…”now, Tommy couldn’t remember his name, but Zach had managed to see the same girl for about two weeks now, which was a record. 

Zach clicked his tongue and waved a hand like he was batting away a pesky fly. “Woah woah woah like chill, bro, chill. Felicity is cool and all, but we’re not, like, dating-dating ya know. I mean, sure, we vibe sometimes. But nah, this is Tanya.”

Tommy knew he shouldn’t but still he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Tanya?”

“Bro,” Zach said slowly, like Tommy had just failed a pop quiz. “Do you have that old person disease? Like, memory rot? Tanya is the solid ten I just told you about, please try’n keep up man, like seriously.”

Buck smirked. “Wasn’t she a nine thirty seconds ago?”

Zach shrugged and stretched, his button-up shirt riding up just enough to reveal a very unnecessary peek of abs and a regrettable tattoo above his happy trail that said, you guess it, ‘It ain’t gonna suck itself’. “Okay… yeah yeah whatever, but like I’m gonna be drunk later, so it’ll round up. Math, bro or something...”

“For fuck sake Zach, why did you end things with Felicity? She seemed really good for you,” Tommy complained because Felicity was the longest he had seen Zach hold someone down for; a full five or so dates. 

Zach groaned, tipping his head back dramatically like the conversation was so taxing. “Oh my god, dawg, what is with the twenty questions? I didn’t end things with Felicity because there was nothing to end, but like, I’ll text her tomorrow, life is about living in the moment, bro, embrace the opportunities that come your way.”

// Flashback pauses for a second///

“Okay, okay I get it, I get it… that wasn’t like, my finest moment or whatever.” Zach cut the story off again, “But legit, I did it for a good reason, like can’t ya just be proud of that…”

Tommy walked over to the edge of the basket ball court, “Right, how is any reason a good reason to cheat?”

“Hold up big boy, no cap, legit was not cheating, like me and …, wait, was her name Felicity?”

“Was it?”

Zach floundered for a second, “Whatever bro, look, we weren’t like exclusive right, and she was like a classy chick, fives dates and just some heavy making out… so wasn’t it better for me to go see Tanya rather than put pressure on her to put out? If you think about it, it’s kinda a green flag.”

“Nope, not a green flag. A red flag, the biggest red flag.” Tommy countered.

//Flashback continues: Eight months ago at the nightmarket //

In the moment, Tommy rubbed a hand down his face. “Whenever I talk to you, I feel like I’ve lost more brain cells.”

“And yet my man, you’re still handsome, and that’s all that matters, king” Zach said, pointing finger guns. “Also…”

But whatever nugget of nonsense was about to drop from his mouth got instantly steamrolled by a sharp female voice slicing through the air.

“Zach? Zach? Is that you? What the actual hell are you doing here?”

Zach froze like a glitching NPC in a video game, his finger guns sagged mid-pose,dropping awkwardly beside him as he stuttered out. “Oh. Uh. Hey… hey, Felicity uh,?” he stammered, voice cracking like a 13-year-old hitting puberty. “What… what are you doing here?”

She stormed across the crowded supermarket carpark with all the subtlety of a heat-seeking missile. Her heels clacked against the pavement like gunfire, purse swinging with fury, eyes locked in on her target.

“For fuck’s sake, asshole, my name is Fiona! And what am I doing here? You told me you were sick!”

Zach, in a display of truly tragic survival instincts, let out the weakest fake cough ever performed in the history of bullshit. “Oh yeah, babe… it’s, uh… seasonal, ya know? One of those 24-hour flu things. Pollen’s, like, super aggressive today.”

“Don’t you ‘babe’ me, asshole,” Fiona snapped, loud enough to silence a nearby toddler mid-tantrum. “You dick, I felt bad for you! I DoorDashed soup to your building!”

“That was like actually super sweet of you.” Zach agreed, which did not tame her anger

Tommy turned to Buck, who was enjoying the drama and muttered, “Oof, that’s not ideal….”

Buck nodded slowly. “Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’ “,So, huh, let me get this straight, Felicity is actually Fiona?”

“Well, I mean, they’ve only been not dating for two weeks, you can’t expect him to remember her name…”

“Uh, huh, of course…. Say she looks like she’s about to unalive him with her bare hands.”

“I should stop this,” Tommy added, with zero urgency.

“Should you?” Buck replied, not looking away.

Back in the warzone at the Night Market, Zach tried to reboot his brain to save the situation.

“Okay, okay, let’s just… let’s just take a breath, yeah? This is clearly a misunderstanding, and wow babe, your eyeliner looks really good today, like smoky but in a powerful way, makes you look like a strong independent woman, it, uh, like totally suits you.”

Fiona exhaled deeply, clearly unimpressed, but all was not lost, “Zach, I’m not unreasonable, if you wanted to hang out with the boys you could have just said, you didn’t have to lie about being sick, I have other friends.”

Zach choked on his good luck, before breaking out into a big grin, and Tommy, for a second, almost couldn’t believe Zach would get away with it. “Yeah, babe, I just felt legit so bad for letting you  down but I haven’t had a chance to hang out with the bro’s Buck and T-Bone in so long, ya feel me?”

And it might have worked if not for the tall, blonde, big boob woman that was wrapping her arm around Zach’s waist with two drinks in her hands. “Sweetie, who's all these peeps? Friends of yours?”

“Oh, huh, I think this is gonna be good.” Buck whispered to Tommy, “Hmm, I kinda wish we had popcorn right now through.”

“Evan.” Tommy half scolded before relenting, “Actually, I could go for popcorn right now.”

“Sweetie?” Fiona repeated slowly, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. She tilted her head, arms crossed, a single brow arched with lethal precision. “Why the fuck is she calling you sweetie, babe?”

Zach took a half-step back, hands raised like she’d just pulled a gun.“Okay, okay, ladies, let's just it pause for a minute, right, like let’s just not escalate this…”

But Tanya cut in abruptly, “Wait, babe?” she asked, eyes flicking between them with the rising fury of someone just realising she wasn’t the main character in this plot. “Why is this skank calling you, babe, Zach?”

“Skank?!” Fiona’s voice jumped an octave, sharp enough to shatter glass. “Oh, bitch, I know you didn’t just…did she just call me skank?!”

Tanya crossed her arms and stepped forward. “I absolutely did. You show up here, trying clinging to my man like a clearance-rack handbag…”

“Oh hell no,” Fiona snapped, stepping forward too. “You better take your Dollar Tree-ass attitude and back the hell up. Who even are you, hoe?”

“Ladies, ladies, please, let's not overreact…” Zach tried to calm them down.

“You… you asshole, you are not worth fighting over.” Fiona snapped, “Fucking asshole.”

“Hard disagree, chicky,” Zach said, stupidly, because his mouth operated faster than his brain. “I mean, I’m objectively worth at least, like, a mild scuffle. Maybe not a felony, but like…”

Fiona shook her head, “Well, this is over, don’t text me…”

“Babe, come on, we have something so good.”

“So good that you faked being sick to take this skank out?” Fiona asked, crossing her arms.

“Well, I mean what we had was deep, ya know, like a connection which is cool, totally into it, but sometimes…”Fiona scoffed, “Oh, you are a piece of work, Zach. Do not DM me, don’t snap me.”

“Fiona, wait...”

Tanya grinned smugly, arms crossed. “Well, bye, skank., don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.”

Zach sighed dramatically, turning to the nearest person, which of course, unfortunately Tommy, who had watched the entire thing unfold like a front-row seat to a car crash in slow motion.

“I can’t believe she just ended it like that,” Zach said, stunned.

Tommy stood there puzzled for a second, before he blinked, trying to find the words. “Zach… what exactly did you think was going to happen?”

Before Zach could answer, Tanya sidled closer, looping her arm through his like nothing had happened. “It’s okay, babe,” she cooed. “You still got me. And I’m way more fun than that uptight skank anyway.”

Zach smiled weakly. “Well, yeah, I mean, that’s why I asked you out tonight. Fiona was, like... deep. Smart. Compassionate. Genuinely interesting. But you know…you’re kinda guaranteed to put out, right?”

Tanya froze, looking up at Zach. “...Excuse me?”

Zach gave a lopsided grin. “I mean, you’re fun. Chill. Not as intense, emotionally, like… less effort.”

Tanya laughed once, but it came out more brittle than amused. “Babe… I’m deep too.” She insisted. 

Zach shrugged. “Sure. If you say so. But like, Fiona was deep-deep. Like, would-talk-you-through-a-breakdown-at-3am deep. You’re more like… party-deep.”

Tanya’s smile dropped.

“You know what, Zach?” she said, stepping back, arms slowly uncrossing. “I’m starting to think maybe this isn’t working.”

Zach blinked. “Wait, oh baby, surely you aren’t breaking up with me too? Tonight?!”

Tommy finally spoke again, deadpan: “You might wanna invest in, like… a mirror. Or a therapist.”

Zach looked between them, baffled, like a man who’d just been dumped twice and still hadn’t figured out it was his fault. “Dude, I have a mirror.”

Then Tanya stormed off without another word, leaving Zach standing in the crater of his own self-inflicted disaster. He watched her go, then turned to Tommy and Buck like he’d just remembered they existed.

“Okay but, like… bro, who’s gonna suck me off tonight now?”

Tommy stared at him in exhausted disbelief. Buck blinked.

Then Zach grinned, all false bravado and no shame. “Unless…?”

Tommy just glared at the idiot in front of him. “Zach.”

Zach raised his hands. “Kidding! Kidding. Unless…? Nah, bro”

//Flashback ends//

As Zach grabbed the half-crushed water bottle from the edge of the court, he huffed, “Honestly, bro, it’s kinda diabolical that you’d bring up that story right now.”

Tommy clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, almost making him drop the bottle again.

“Mmm,” Tommy said dryly. “I’m just saying that you’ve grown Zach. Grant, only a tiny bit, but you’ve grown towards being a better person.”

Zach rolled his eyes, “Excuse me, I have alw… wait.” and his face lit up, “Hold on, are you saying T-Bone, that you think I’m a good person?”

“Hmm, I think you’ll find the words I used was better person, Zach.” Tommy corrected playfully. 

“So, like, you might say, willingly, that you were, oh I dunno…”

Now, normally Tommy would not play along with these games but he decided, just this once to indulge Zach. “Mmm, I’m not sure exactly what you are trying to imply Zach, but I would say I am proud of your growth towards not being a complete asshole, and being able to show the slightest ability to think of other people. Also, I’m proud of, oh lets say, your loyalty, you are, at your core, a good person and I think you have the chance to be a great one, if you make the right choices.”

Then Zach said, “Sooo… now that we’ve established that, you think I could use that speech to pick up that hot EMT from last week?”

Tommy should of known better, he really should of. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You know, paraphrase it. Not word for word, obviously because that would be weird. Maybe say you called me a loyal good guy who’s working on himself. Sprinkle in the emotional growth stuff, oh and, just casually mention that my ‘V’ line is as sharp as my jawline.”

Tommy just stared, and then he thought back for a moment, “Wait, the only EMT’s we dealt with last week where the two guys from the 133…”

Zach’s face went red, “Uh… well. Did Buck not talk to you?” And Zach's eyes carefully scanned Tommy's face for a reaction.

“No.” Tommy replied honestly, because no, Buck hadn't said a word about Zach. Although he was aware that his best friend did talk to his boyfriend... a lot.

“Oh. Uh. Huh. That’s wild.” Zach coughed, tugging at his collar. “So he was, uh, legit. He’s uh a good guy, anyway, Imma go do what I gotta do with Candy and uh, we’ll touch base on that later right? Cool.”

Zach paused for a second, "Is it wrong to sleep with her before breaking up with her, or...." Tommy's face must of given him the answer because Zach scratched the back of his neck as he backpedaled "Yeah, nah nah, of course, just joking. There's plenty of non transphobic fish in the sea right?"

And before Tommy could say a word, Zach was gone, half-jogging across the court.