#anyway here's the fuckin tea for all my fuckin issues

[thetentaclecommander]

Commit to the bit.

Life is too fuckin short. And then we die and rot. You got *this* nonsense story idea? With *those* characters? In *that* fandom? That you want to see meet/befriend/fight/debate/fuck/have tea/x *with each other*?? Then do it. And commit. Full on own your idea, cause this fanfic shit is for fun. Shits and giggles. Nothing more, nothing less. Not even to save a pony or topple a dictatorship*. Don't hold back your commitment to this idea because somebody will get mad or will assume the worst of you (they will anyway; assumptive people don't deserve your time). Or your writing skill isn't 'good' - try! I promise in this journey you will over time find that becomes less of an issue. Hell, I'm not the Bard but I'm way better than I was an eternity ago; it's hard typing with tentacles, ok. Or people just won't like it. Spoiler: nothing is universally liked or loved and that's okay. Write it anyway. Like that movie with the cornfield: 'if you build it they will come.' Your people will show up, it just takes time. You are allowed to say 'That's my story and I wrote it exactly as I wanted it.' No debating**, no it has x and this or that blah blah bad blah - nah. It's your story. Folks can go find something else and complain somewhere else, they know how to work a computer. And for all that is holy don't sanitize, nor compromise your vision- I've seen it out in the wild and it kills me whenever authors cave to the pressure when a thing is seen as awful, <insert silly religious scary wording here> and needs changing by an audience that sees your work as a thing to consume seasoned to their tastes and not to enjoy what is freely given by a fan fandoming it up. You will only feel boxed in and resentful so...don't :) Laugh at them and do it MORE. In fact, stand 100% by your work. Hype up that shit! Where is the hype like you did that! You did this crazy thing in your own free time probably stressed af and yet made this story. You made it from your own brain put into text form for others to enjoy. That is so fuckin' cool. Like legit you basically wrote a book so congrats, you legend. Revel in it. But above all else Commit. To. The. Bit. *you could make a fic out of that 'saving a pony dictatorship' idea I suppose, FiM would love you **now, if you ask for actual advice (and not unsolicited crit), take what works and toss what doesn't but don't get mad at crit you directly asked for!

[champion-level-astroturfing]

Salut, my weird little kitten. You cleared the background check. Did you know that your birth records are back-dated? Very strange. But not too strange for me to stop you from adopting one of these poison types. Here's what I got;

Pica the Swalot. So named because he does, in fact, have pica. Which is thankfully less of an issue when you have the digestive system of a trash compactor, but you do have to keep an eye on what he puts in his mouth. Real hedonist type, loves to be used as a pillow.

Beepbip the foongus. Extremely chatty. Always chirping up a storm, telling us the latest tea. Fearless to a fault. Very eager to please, but not super food motivated. We're still tweaking his diet to try and get him to eat enough.

Queen Fezzerie III the Roselia. This flower is like if you took a Tsareena and a Serperior and made them even more haughty and then gave them poisonous barbs. You do have to use her full title at all times. She does enjoy a good battle but wow is she a sore loser. Will likely take some time to get her respect.

If none of these are what you're looking for I can keep giving options.

@corkycare

uhhhhh heroes you're making me make decisions and stuff and i'm bad at that

...

okay, okay. lil beep sounds cute but i feel like a foongus is just like. too tiny for me. i'm a big guy what if i step on him. what if blue just like. eats him for fun. sorry lil guy

pica sounds like he would be great fuckin fun and honestly like a creature you can use as a pillow? ideal. but like... the thing is. this is like. there's a purpose to trying to adopt a poison type and it's to have something that's got some idea how to battle. a better idea than blue and me by ourselves, anyway.

so... she might be difficult but like. i'm a friendly guy! people like me! i reckon we can make friends. got a bit of time to do it still

seems like i'll be going with our queen fezzerie the third, long may she reign

[quinloki]

TikTok Top

Inspired by @swampstew's Killer Cook - which you should seriously go read, it's a fantastic set up. It's a completely different vibe from this one-shot, but it's Damn Good Writing and World Building and I think you'll love it as much as I do.

Fem Reader x Eustass Kid

Word count: 3,682

CW: BDSM, hook-up, rope, safe sane and consensual, does NOT result in a relationship, language, degradation (name calling),

[This picks up from the end of the first chapter of Killer Cook (go read it!) ]

PunkNeverDied69: You can’t afford my tastes. UnderstatedGrin: They might not be able to, but I know I can. PunkNeverDied69: What makes you so sure, doll? UnderstatedGrin: If you’re brave enough to find out, I can prove it.

KillerCook: Take this to DMs or something, but get out of my comments *both* of you.

The parameters you laid out were simple. Lunch at a local popular cafe. Your treat, all he has to do is arrive first. After all you know what he looks like, but he doesn’t know what you look like. No strings, no expectations - if it was a bust before the food was cold, so be it, and if it turned into a one night stand, then that's fine too.

You were both adults, so long as he wasn’t already seeing someone you weren’t concerned about how things unfolded. He was hot, yes, but oddly you were drawn more to his personality and the sound of his voice. Everything else was just some delightful bonuses.

He looked a little out of place in the cafe, but only because the cafe didn’t suit him. For how you imagined he preferred to dress when he went out he had kept things fairly low-key. The black t-shirt didn’t have any extra print on it, and the jeans fit him well, all the way down to black spike studded combat boots.

That fiery hair of his was a well-placed mess, and he seemed to be ignoring the looks his scar and prosthetic caused. Considering the different ones you had seen in the videos, he was going pretty low key across the board.

You sat down across from him and watched his face go through a series of emotions. He looked around after a moment and then looked back at you.

“Fuckin’ with me already, doll?” He asks, a little irritation in his voice despite his grin.

“Hardly,” you reply with a small smile. “I warned you my appearance was going to clash with what you expected.”

You had light makeup up on giving you that natural look, and your hair was pulled into a mostly tight bun at the curve of your head, instead of down by your nape. You wore a white blouse with a sweater vest over it, and a knee-length pencil skirt with a pair of Mary Jane’s. The added effect of your rimless glasses made you look  like the least dangerous thing for a hundred miles at least.

A waitress came over to take your order and you prompted Eustass to order whatever he pleased. By the time he was done he had ordered almost half the menu, but it was okay - this was the game anyway. The push and pull. Your desire to lure him in, his desire to piss you off.

Gods you loved that attitude of his.

You spoke about Killer and the cooking channel while you waited for the order to arrive, and you’re surprised to find him talking more about his friends than himself. He talks gruffly, but fondly, about Heat and Killer both, and even admits that there’s another guy named Wire who hasn’t yet accidentally wandered into the kitchen, but helps with editing.

After the food arrives you prompt Kid to enjoy it, sipping the tea that you had gotten for yourself. It wasn’t that you couldn’t sit here and pack away food with him, but you didn’t want your nerves to do anything embarrassing with a heavy meal.

He’s a few bites in when you shift in your chair and he looks over at you. You must look a little uncomfortable despite your efforts, and there’s a flash of concern on his face before he swallows and looks away.

“If you really can’t swing the bill, you’re allowed to speak up or something.” He grumbles.

“Oh no, the bill is not an issue. Neither is anything you’ve done.” You say evenly, unbuttoning the collar of your blouse slowly as he turns toward you. You pull the collar aside just enough to show lines of rope and a knot sitting over your collarbone. “I simply tied things up a little snug, is all.”

Kid nearly drops the sandwich he’s working on. You can see a brief tinge of pink cross his cheeks before it’s replaced by a beautifully wolffish grin.

“Think you got my number, girlie?” He asks, going back to the sandwich.

Your smile is slight and you keep your eyes downcast as you speak. “Perhaps. Should I shoot my shot and you can tell me if I’ve hit or kissed?”

Eustass grunts a laugh before swallowing. “Fire away.”

“I think you’re fiercely loyal and supportive of your friends. You push the boundaries of what can be posted to TikTok because you want Killer to shine as much as you know he can. You’d probably never forgive yourself if you accidentally got him banned though. You’re also more of a classical music and pop kind of guy, but you know people already judge your appearance as is, so you lean into the whole rock and heavy metal - which isn’t a complete loss, cause you like that music too.” You take a sip of tea, noticing that he’s stopped eating and is looking at you. You look at him over the edge of your glasses. “I also bet you’re quite the dom, but that might be my own personal hope winning out over anything else.”

There’s a tense quiet moment between you and you simply hold his gaze with a soft smile.

“What makes you think I like classical music?” He asks after a moment, leaning back and regarding you with some amusement.

“You got in trouble with TikTok because you attributed a song to the classical score it used, and not the song itself.” You answer evenly. “I’m going to assume it was because they didn’t even change anything from the original score and then didn’t give any credit. Which, I mean, good show and all, but that’s how I sorted it out.”

“That’s some pretty creepy levels of paying attention.”

You shrug. “I set this up with the intention of inviting you over, if I wasn’t going to be sure what kind of person you are, then why bother at all?”

“Planning on inviting me over? Mouse I could snap you in half effortlessly, why would you invite me to your home?” His voice is grumpy but there’s an amused smirk on his face. “You could’ve opted for a hotel or something.”

“It’s cause of Killer, actually.”

“Huh? The fuck does he have to do with inviting me to your home?”

“Killer’s on screen a lot. Live. Candidly. Not just popping in to do taste tests and flex all those lovely muscles you’re fond of.” Your soft smile is a little more mischievous. “Anyway, I can’t imagine someone like him would put up with trash. You might be a real bastard, but I don’t believe you’re someone who would do unforgivable things to me unless I gave you reason to.”

Kid’s quiet for a moment, regarding you so intently you’re almost uncomfortable. He shrugs, finishes what he was eating, and flags down a waiter to get some to go containers. Chugging the rest of his drink he gets your address and tells you to head home.

He’ll be there, and you should be ready for him.

.

.

.

.

Kid arrives at your house twenty minutes after you, and after you let him in he takes his boots off in the entryway, giving you a sideways glance for a second.

“That your idea of getting ready for me?” He questions, his head tilting toward a box of condoms on the counter.

“Yes,” you admit, taking a few steps back to give him room. “I don’t know what else I could’ve done. The clothes are disposable, and, well, I don’t know that you won’t still leave after you see my room.”

Your confidence is faltering a little at this point. Every prior relationship had turned tail and ran away from you when you had been candid about your particular appetite. If Eustass was the same as everyone before him, he was going to put his boots back on and leave as soon as he saw your collection.

Kid starts to say something but sees the look on your face and pauses. “Fine, show me this terrifying room of yours.”

You lead him over and open the door, letting him walk in without you. The four poster bed already has cuffs set up on it, and your closet was open to show off the toys and accessories you had inside, everything from gags to whips to paddles to more rope and cuffs. There were noise canceling headphones and blindfolds as well, and a small assortment of body stockings.

There was an extensive collection of plugs, dildos, vibrators and clamps, and safety equipment to cut binds or pre-weaken items so you could break free on your own if needed to.

Kid walks all around and takes everything in before looking back at you. “Kinda went all in, didn’tcha?”

“Yeah.” You hate how small your voice sounds, but people leaving at this point happens so often you can’t bring yourself to hope.

“Well, what’re your safe words?” He asks, and the sinking feeling in your stomach does a 180 so fast you almost aren’t sure what to do with it.

“Ah.. um… j-just colors.”

“Red, green, yellow?”

You nod.

He steps toward you and reaches out, grabbing your chin and tilting your gaze up to his. “First time?”

You look away. “Yeah, no one, uh, ever stayed after this point.”

“Their loss,” he says, turning your head to pull your gaze back to his. “When I ask for a color, you tell me where you’re at - if it’s all new to you, you can use yellow to mean you’re exhausted. Red is to make it stop - I don’t care what the reason is, or when. If I gotta jerk off in your bathroom because you couldn’t make it, then that’s how it goes. We clear?”

You nod. “We’re, uh, green.”

Eustass grins, and while it’s a positive look, there’s something in it that makes you nervous. “Take that sweater off and we’ll get started.”

You pull the sweater vest off, and catch the pleased look on his face as it becomes glaringly obvious there’s a rope harness under the blouse. He pulls you against his body, feeling the ropes between the two of you, and grabs your hair roughly, tilting your head back and causing you to gasp.

“Any hard no’s before we start?”

Those golden brown eyes had you captive more than his hand in your hair. “I mean, no blood no foul is the best I have right now.”

Kid licks his lips and leans down, barely a breath away from your lips. Before he can say anything you grin.

“I bet I’d look good in that lipstick.”  You manage with a light nervous chuckle.

Eustass captures your lips and the jolt of pleasure that strikes you makes your whole body squirm. You steady yourself against his chest and moan softly as his tongue steals air and sense from you, deep in your mouth before you had even realized your lips had given entry.

He pulls you into the room, standing you by the bed. Breaking the kiss enough to change where his hands are he resumes kissing you as he pulls the blouse open roughly, sending buttons scattering in all directions. You squeak as he pulls it off unceremoniously and starts to toss it aside.

He regards it for a moment, giving you a chance to catch your breath, face already hot and red. Using the blouse he ties your arms behind your back, kissing your neck and trailing his tongue along your shoulder, letting your shaky gasps out into the air.

You feel him put a part of the blouse in your hand and close your fingers around it. You could pull it and free yourself, and the consideration for your safety only made you hornier.

His arms shift as he continues to tease your neck, pulling sweet little mewling sounds out of you before he moves to the other side, sucking your skin hard and pinching your nipples between his fingers at the same time. The pleasure and pain short circuit your reactions, and your pleasurable moan turns into a swear as you take a step back.

You’re gasping and your legs are already shaking and Kid’s looking at you with an amused grin.

“Not like just using toys, is it?”

“N-no, it’s not.” You admit, body shivering with anticipation.

“Too much?”

You shake your head. “G-green, I’m green. Haa, in more ways than one.” You admit softly.

“Then get your little whore ass back over here.” Eustass says, a commanding tone in his voice that sends a chill down your back. You step back toward him, face flushed red, and stick your chest out toward him without further prompt.

“Green maybe,” he says, clearly referencing your experience. “But well educated. Does the little newbie whore wanna cum for me?”

You nod, “I want to - haa-nngh!” Your words are cut short as Eustass pulls on the rope between your thighs, digging it into your clit.

“Look at me when you beg bitch.” He demands and the shiver that runs you through - more from his tone than his words - forces a shaky sound out of you. You can see the delight on his face before you can speak up.

“I-I want to cum a-against your cock.” You beg, your face painfully red as you manage to look at him through the whole thing before looking away.

“Mmm, let’s see if you can earn that privilege.” He muses, pulling the pencil skirt off and letting it pool at your feet. He helps you step clear of it before turning you around and shoving you onto your bed, chest down, ass in the air as you barely manage to keep your feet under you. “I want to hear a color from you after each one of these, doll.”

“O-okay,” you answer a little shakily, fairly certain you know what’s coming.

“That should be a ‘yes sir’ at the least.” He says, his right hand cracking sharply against your ass.

The sweet sting turns pleasurable quickly and you gasp at the sensation - knowing it was coming did you no good.

“G-green, sir, and ah, h-harder, please.”

“Mm, listen to you.” His left hand comes down harder, the exacting control he has over the prosthetic leaves a delicious, and heavier, sting against your skin.

After every smack you say green, even if a couple times you need to catch your breath or struggle against a moan to speak.  After nearly a dozen solid smacks you let the first yellow pass your lips.

Eustass’s hands grab your bright red ass cheeks and squeeze them, eliciting a nearly orgasmic sound from you as the strange mix of pleasure and pain push into your body.

“You’re legit turned on by this,” he says practically purring the words. “Your cunt’s just drooling down your thighs. I’ll give you credit, you are a delightful little toy. Fuck I want to shove my cock down your throat and see how much you’ve practiced with those monster dildos, but we’ll see how fast you recover from this first.”

You hear and feel the safety scissors as Kid cuts the rope that is soaking in your slit, and moves it away.

“Color?”

“Green, green! Just p-please don’t stop!” You gasp into the mattress, the words collapsing into a cry of pleasure as hot fingers find your clit. His fingers slip and slide against your soaking pussy for a couple seconds before his prosthetic steadies you.

“Don’t squirm so much,” he says with a chuckle. “I can’t keep my fingers on your clit when you move so much. Keep your hips up.”

“T-trying… legs are… I’m gonna c-cum!” You can feel the rush of pleasure threatening to overtake you when there’s a sharp snap against your ass.

“You wanted to cum around my cock, don’t go creaming on your own, doll.” He says, pulling his fingers from your clit. You could hear the wrapper break and then a moment later you could feel him.

You hadn’t seen the size of him since things started, but he felt impossibly large. Maybe it was because you weren’t in control like you were with your toys, but you shift your hips against the tip, trying to help lubricate the beast before it tears you open.

“Used to taking this on your own terms, aren’tcha, ya little size princess? Well, not this time. You keep those hips up and still.” He commands, and you comply despite your concerns. “There we go, don’t worry, I’m not going to break you.”

He leans down over you and can feel the warmth of him against your back, and the heat of his words tickle your ear.

“You're entirely too fun to break in the first round, girlie.” He promises you as he begins to push into you. His face stays near yours as he pushes deeper. Slowly and without pause.

Most of the toys you had, had some give to them, but Eustass was more like metal than flesh, as he stretched you wider than you had ever done to yourself. It took all you had to stay still as he pushed in so achingly slow, relishing in the twitches and gasps coming from you.

“Don’t you dare cum from just this,” he demands, and you can feel your body responding, regardless of your own will. “I’m about to make all your little toys useless. Or at least useless in your hands.” He muses, leaning back as his hips push flush against your thighs.

“Holy fuck, look at you taking all of me like a godsdamned champ.” He grabs your hips and pushes himself deeper by pulling you against him and the sensation forces a broken moan from you as one of your leg curls. “Oh I am going to fuck you mindless, little mouse.”

You gasp at the name and hide your face in the mattress, arms flexing against the ropes, legs already shivering before he’s even started.

“Like that, huh?” He pulls back and little and thrusts heavily into you. “Keep being a good girl, and maybe I’ll call you mouse more often.”

Your legs aren’t holding you up as Eustass grips your hips and snaps into you over and over. Pleasurable sounds leak from both sets of your lips, some of them soaking into the mattress, some dribbling down your thighs. Once he finds a spot that makes you practically growl in pleasure he hits that spot over and over and you couldn’t hardly make any sounds as the powerful orgasm crashes into you.

You couldn’t even beg for permission.

You hadn’t ever brought yourself to such a hard orgasm, and you hear Eustass hiss as you clench and spasm against him. He mutters a curse under his breath, pushing you further onto the bed and lifting you up enough to get your knees on the mattress.

Your body crumpled under you, but Eustass leans into you and the bed. He gives you enough of a reprieve, pushing into you slowly, to let your senses return a little.

“Where’re you at, little mouse?”

“G-green, for the love of fuck, d-don’t stop!” You gasp, pushing back into him. “I’ve n-never - that was am-ma-mazing - hnnngh!!”

“Flattery will get you pretty far, at least when it’s like that.” He grins, pounding into you again from the new angle. The bed is taking most of the punishment, as his hips smack into your thighs and push you into the mattress.

You can’t care about the bed, or much of anything else. You squirm and wiggle under him and the inability to escape fuels your pleasure, pushing you toward a second orgasm quickly.

“Haa-ngh, fuck, K-Kid, I’m gonna… can’t -.”

“Scream for me.” He demands, reaching around and pushing his fingers into your clit.

You gasp and let loose a short string of swears before your entire body curls and the orgasm nearly breaks you. You cry out something, and you're vaguely aware of Eustass cumming with you as he growls your new favorite nickname before slamming into your needy body roughly.

You’re a little disappointed he needed to wear the condom, the idea of his pleasure leaking out of you was turning you on, even if you weren’t sure why. It probably had a little bit to do with the gaping empty feeling as he pulled out of you, you’re shivering at the sensation of it and the odd hollowed out feeling that lingered.

“Let me get you out of those ropes and get you cleaned up.” He says after taking a second to catch his breath. “How ya feeling?”

“Exhausted,” you admit with a chuckle as the ropes are loosened. “All my muscles are mush. Exhaustion aside, that was fucking amazing.”

Eustass rolls you onto your back to undo the knots on the front. “Good. Nothing feels bad?”

“Mm, in what way?”

“No weird pain, no pang of regret?” He asks. “Whatever it is, it’s best to talk it out now instead of later.”

“Hm.” You consider things for a moment. “Aside from a bit of rope burn, nothing feels off physically. Mentally, er, no. No regrets. I’m glad to have done this, but er, how do I find people like us?” You ask with a sheepish grin as he helps you sit up.

Eustass snorts. “Let me help you get set up on a kink-friendly dating website after a shower.” He says, helping you stand. “Friends?” He questions, raising a brow.

“Friends.” You admit with a smile.

“Good, so rule #1, if anyone you hook up with ignores your safe words, you tell me.” Kid says, ruffling your hair before he practically carries you into the bathroom.

[spamtoon]

DCRC Week 8--hey, look at that! On time!

Okay I woke up early today and I am NOT happy about it so before I do anything I'm going to sit down and read Paperinik because I was so excited to game last night and now I kinda don't feel like it. MAYBE I'll go back to sleep after this but I think I just kinda have to live with this.

Sorry I don't have any club penguin screenshots this time. unless something happens. wait i have the perfect idea

you can say odin eidolon in club pen.guin

omg its the panel. its the pk panel that everyone's like that goes so hard and you know what. it does go so hard

im so mad the way they didnt try to put it over the text this time. i love you pkna translation

omg the duck avenger actually fighting normal crime and being on patrol and shit no way. with these comics if they're dealing with cosmic threats on a daily basis its easy to forget they just like. also stop normal crime. like kidnappings and shit

ah okay. clearly these are the evronians from the second dimension

okay is the time police back to helping donald. or are these guys just normal cops. okay nevermind we time travelled i guess so normal cops. okay

so they use that shot and then they're like BOOM you're in the future actually. let me explain

im so fuckin mad the way this background lady is looking at donald like Who the Fuck is this guy. he Sucks

So I guess those guys are stronger because they're Future evronians and donald fighting them was like nuh uh uh! let's give you a future tour first

hes so tiny. hes so insanely little look at him. i guess after the time police explosion incident they're like alright. this is the only guy who can help us let's just tell him about the future becaues he's gonna find out anyway

i love the super trash here sign. in the future even trash is super

omg... he's coming. he's coming. he's coming. the guy's name i can't spell

hes so sad that uno's mortal after all... poor guy...

lord i dont know if we're supposed to not trust this guy but i do not trust this guy How do you know about all this stuff if it hasn't been documented well

i also like that everyone is taller--not just in the future but in pkna in general actually it feels like donald is in new donk city

donald is so cute in this panel... he's so silly

okay now i dont think we're supposed to trust this guy he's fuckin giving donald a pearl (SORRY) (reference)

donald misses uno sooooooo much already

sorry im on a kick now i didnt include the evermore comment but i swear to cog all my brain has to say about the tape head tv is "the void..." (another (reference)

ooh they're alright fightiiing please get to the part where we see The Catch or better yet. odin

donald's cape in this issue...

THE WAY I WENT YOOOOOO OUT LOUD

iced tea imported from england. lifeguards imported from sp

this fucking guy and his posing

i love how theres just a crowd forming behind them i'm so. they're chilling. hitting it off already.

okay glad to see donald also thinks this is suspicious

im so mad hes so fucking done looking

poptropi.ca good future lookin ahh. not that he doesnt have taste

bruh the fuckin fake evronians. im so mad. wow im sure this isnt foreshadowing anything the walt disney corporation will do in the next three centuries SORRY.

robot eye..................................

so thats why they look like that like they're literally supposed to be edgier evronians for the sake of tv hence why they're so second dimension alright.

the stupid fuckin eyebrow quirk im so mad donald's little goofy shrug

HELP im so mad. the robot parts. not going to photograph because it's kinda unsettling me a bit in a mega.volt way but

SORRY HIS FACES ARE SO FUNNY i keep having to screenshot them

his fucking expression. he's so fucking screwed

IM SO FUCKING MAD the cops were like alright yeah. fuck it. you're a tv guy i'll sign off on this as long as you dont do anything too stupid. lets rewrite this history and shape the perceptions of the future because yeah we wanna see that too that'd be sick

i love how this is the first movie pose he knows when he's like alright fine. let's do this stupid movie. hi odin...

robo-donald

HELP IM SO MAD the way the evronian was actually the chancellor guy, i'm so mad

also i guess xadhoom got her way and donald didnt just get them to stop invading earth but actively destroyed all of them. except this one guy. you know what good for her

oooh the beam deflected. i mean technically we dont either but you dont know hes a robot yet... ooooooh you targetted the wrooong guy

omg the uno textboxes... oughghgnn...

HI UNO!!!!!!! I MISSED HIM i cant send anymore images but HAIIII

oh uno,... i'll admit i looked up odin eidolon like one day before i started reading paperinik and then accidentally found the spoiler but i'm glad its like. hinted at/revealed this issue rather than like. a big buildup because i would have felt bad

im so mad the way uno says his files are overloaded the machine... ohohgnsngnngsng

alright good issue! i prompted puffy to draw a duck avenger 23rd century fanart and now im very scared but yaaaay im caught up on paperinik

[crybaby-bkg]

sᴄᴏʀɴᴇᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sɪх

Bakugou x f!reader Warnings/Tags: some brief flashbacks, the tiniest bit of tension, brief mention of manga spoilers from chapter 362, negotiations of hero talk Word Count: 4.6k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Main Masterlist

AO3

It’s been a couple of days since your temporary stay at Bakugou’s house, and its more peaceful than you had expected it to be. You don’t see him much for the first few days, with your schedules conflicting with hero work and regular work. You haven’t gotten any major calls as The Red Medusa, and the smaller issues you leave to the other vigilantes like you. You haven’t heard anything from Vanity, and it scares you more than anything to hear what she has to say about your living situation, but you don’t reach out first. 

Instead, you pretend to live in bliss with your warm blanket and even warmer cup of tea in your hands. You cradle it in your palms as you sit on the couch, watching the news with an unfocused gaze. Your eyes clear though, the moment you hear the doorknob rattling, and find Bakugou entering with a frown on his face. 

“Didn’t catch the villain, sunshine?” You ask, tone droning on as you survey him—woah. Your eyes immediately snap back to the television, face as warm as your cup as Bakugou kicks off his boots and angrily sets down his heavy gauntlets. 

“‘Caught the bastard, but he ripped my fuckin’ pants with his stupid fuckin’ quirk!” He bellows, eyebrows downturned as he barely casts you a glance before he goes stomping off to his room. You keep your eyes zeroed on the screen, but its all for naught when the news anchors now focus on the fight Dynamight just wrapped up, camera zooming in entirely too close to his crotch for it to be FCC approved. 

The rip in his pants is high up on his thigh, exposes more than it should, his pale flesh splattered in blood and whatever blue goo the villain spits out. You can see Dynamight cursing up a storm, his mouth blurred out, as the news anchors try to withhold their laughs, one even making a dirty joke. 

It makes your stomach twists—how could they sexualize him like that, in a moment of battle? Of fighting to protect the citizens of this city? How could they focus on how strong the muscle in his thigh flexes when he jumps up and blasts himself into the sky? Focus on how more and more of his skin peels out with every turn he does in the air? How can they focus on how…how nice…

You stand up abruptly, beelining to the sink as you turn your cup upside down, emptying its contents down the drain. It must’ve been that stupid sleepy time tea Bakugou keeps stacked up in his cabinets fucking with your head, because you could never, ever look at him like that. 

Like the way you look at him now when he stomps out into the kitchen, roughly running his fingers through his hair as he stands there in only a tank top and shorts that stop right above his knee. The scar in his shoulder has healed nicely, you think to yourself, fading from pink to his skin tone. 

“Why’re you wasting my good tea?” He grunts, brushing past you to open up the cabinet. You avert your gaze, mouth twisting—in shame, so much shame—as you try to remember what he’s just asked you. 

“Because its shit.” You answer plainly, finding it in you to start washing the dishes you had left from earlier. Bakugou flitters around the kitchen comfortably, eyeing you when you go quiet. 

“Bullshit. You’ve used at least two bags everyday since you started staying here, and that’s on a good day.” He throws at you, leaning against the counter to square you off with a look to the back of your head. You bristle at that. 

“Why are you watching me, pervert?” You snarl at him, but your voice is shakier than it usually is. He picks up on that, but doesn’t comment on it. 

“Because you’re using up my good shit.”

“It looks like that’s your only shit.” You counter back. “Do you even have any other tea flavors? And why do you have so much of that sleepy time shit anyway?” 

Bakugou doesn’t answer for a long while, and you wonder if somehow, you’ve struck a nerve. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s still there, if he’s somehow stalked off with his freaky hero abilities without you hearing him, but he still stands there. Arms folded, gaze drifted away somewhere far. He looks up when he realizes you’ve been staring at him, frowning, and he opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the beeping of the microwave. He turns, and takes the water out, steam curling around his hand. 

“Just like it, ’s all.” He answers with a shrug, turning his back to you this time, as he starts fixing his tea. You don’t say anything else about it, but your eyes lilt down to where his pale leg sticks out of his shorts. 

“Your thigh okay?” You find yourself asking, turning quickly to the spoon you’ve been washing for two minutes now, when Bakugou turns in your direction again. 

“Yeah? ’S alright. Just a few scratches.” He hums, walking up beside you to dump the spoon he used to stir his tea up into the soapy load you’ve finally dwindled down. You sneer at him, and he only quirks an eyebrow at you over the rim of his cup before walking down the hall. 

“Get some sleep, dumbass.” He tells you, almost fondly, and it makes your heart squeeze a little tighter than you’d like it to. You fumble over your words, looking for a comeback you’ve been struggling to come up with since you started staying with him. Instead of using words, you flip him the bird again, soapy and unseen to the back of his head. 

…

It’s been a couple of hours since you laid down for bed, even longer since you drank the tea, and you think that the shit is a scam. The whole point of sleepy time is to put you down to sleep, right? So why the fuck is it 3:41am, and you can’t sleep through your usual nightmares? 

Maybe, you just need another cup. 

You swing your legs over the bed, throwing the purple blanket away from your form as you slide into the slippers Bakugou lended you (you yelled at him for buying you something, and he yelled back that he didn’t need you slipping and breaking your damn neck on his hardwood floors). You go to exit your room, but you hesitate for a second. You don’t typically leave your room until the sun rises, even in times when you have to pee really fuckin’ bad. 

It brings back memories of creeping around in places that weren’t inherently yours, and being hunted, preyed upon, in long dark hallways with men who wanted to get a taste of your flesh. But you know that this place is safe, even if it pains you to admit it. So you scurry back to your bed, slide your pocket knife into the waistband of your sleep pants, and cover your shoulders with the purple throw blanket. 

You stand in front of the door for a few seconds, taking in some deep breaths before you unlock the door. You wait, chest shaking with the forced air you pump into your lungs, before swinging the door open. Your hand rests on the knife as you survey the silent house, looking down the hallway to Bakugou’s room, and find his door cracked. 

You turn and start heading to the kitchen, seeing that a single light above the stove has been left on. He must’ve done it, because you swore you turned off all the lights before heading to bed. You had made that mistake once and woke up to a snappy text of running up his light bill the next morning. So you walk a little faster, ready to turn it off, only to be stopped in your tracks at the sight of Bakugou in the kitchen himself. 

His head snaps up when he sees you turn the corner from where he rests against the counter by the microwave, looks almost as if time had done a rewind of the day. Only this time, he looks tireder, and you see the mug he used earlier is in the sink, and he nurses another one in his right hand. 

“What’re you doing up this late?” He slurs quietly, sipping at his drink before resting it on the counter beside him, folding his arms across his chest. You jut your chin out to him, as you mirror his position across the kitchen. 

“I could ask you the same thing. Don’t you have work in the morning?” You ask him, eyes fluttering to the cabinet that holds that scamming ass tea. Bakugou follows your line of sight and must connect the dots, because he huffs out a laugh before turning to reach into the cabinets behind him. He pulls out the mug you’ve been favoring, and waves a dismissive hand at you when you take a step forward to protest. 

“You don’t have to,”

“I know I don’t. Doing it because I wanna.” He yawns, starts taking out the materials he’s seen you use for the few days you’ve been here. Water from the tap, the black mug that reads “fresh out of fucks” in white lettering, the sleepy time tea bag, a scoop of sugar, and a squeeze of honey. 

“You really are a pervert.” You tack on quietly, jumping a little at the laugh that shoots out from his chest. 

“For knowing how you like your tea?” He asks, looking over his shoulder as he takes the warm water out (never actually hot—how did he know that though?). 

“Yeah, since I’ve only been here for a couple of days now.” 

“‘M a hero. My job is to observe.” Bakugou counters back, crossing the kitchen to hand you your tea. He looks down the bridge of his nose at you, corner of his mouth quirked up in such a way that it makes the pit of your stomach twist uncomfortably the longer you look at it. Stupid fuckin’ face. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, taking a hesitant sip, realizing quickly that its the way you’ve always liked it. Bakugou doesn’t say anything, just returns to his spot across the kitchen from you, sipping at his own drink as he takes you in. 

“You never answered my question,” he calls out, making you tilt your head in confusion. “Why’re you up this late?” He asks. You roll the answer around in your head for a few seconds, taking another drink, as you wonder where the harm comes in with sharing. It’s almost four in the morning anyway—anything you say right now doesn’t even really count. 

“Same old night terrors.” You hum into the rim of your cup, eyes drifting down to the squeaky clean floors of the kitchen tile. Bakugou doesn’t respond, and it makes you glance up to him, wondering why he’s fallen so silent. 

“You get reoccurring nightmares, too?” He asks gently, and in this light, you don’t think he’s ever looked softer. The light above the oven is dim, and casts an almost eerie glow on the pro hero, if not for the sunken bags under his eyes and the frown lines etched permanently into his skin. His hair looks fallen, a little puffy at the roots still, and his mouth is such a gentle line across his face, bottom lip puckered slightly. He looks…tired, exhausted with the seemingly never ending days of hero work. 

Will this be what you’ll look like if you agree to become a pro hero? Restless and overworked, all for the sake of “justice”? Do you not already look like that, though? 

“Yeah,” you answer softly. “About the shit that happened to me in the past.” You don’t know why the word vomit starts, but its hard to cut it off once it starts spilling. 

“I know Miruko killed them, but they still haunt me in my dreams, most night. Feels like I can’t escape them, even if I try, and gods know I’ve fuckin’ tried.” Your voice falls to a whisper, your throat tightening with every confession. You can’t open up to him—what if he uses what you say against you? What if he takes your pain and contorts into something even more grotesque? Into weapon, into battery, into destruction of your very being? 

But Bakugou only nods with you, as if he knows. As if he understands everything. 

“Same with me, it’s why I keep so much of that fuckin’ sleepy time tea ‘round.” He grunts out, eyes casted low as if in thought. “We killed the fucker that took me out years ago, and still,” his voice becomes strained, and he sets down his cup as if he’s afraid it’ll explode in his hands. It just might, with the way his teeth grit to hide the wobble of his chin, angrily. 

“And still I get these fuckin’ nightmares about—about,” 

“You don’t have to share in detail, if its too hard to say out loud.” You cut him off quickly when his voice starts to elevate, throwing off the serenity in the space you two have created for yourselves. Bakugou cuts his eyes up to you quickly, his gaze hardened and distant, but it clears the longer he looks at you before his upper body deflates. 

“Do you journal your nightmares?” You ask him, voice tiny. “Had a therapist tell me it helps. The only thing it helped was forgetting the dream after writing it down, but I remembered the next night when it happened again.” You laugh humorlessly, hiding your trembling chin behind your mug, blinking away the frustrated tears. 

“Not much of a writer.” Bakugou confesses. 

“You don’t have to be. Just write down what happened; its supposed to help you process shit.” You offer to him, narrowing your eyes at his slowly forming crooked grin. 

“Are you treating me like one of your patients?” He asks quietly, finishing the rest of his tea as you roll your eyes dramatically. 

“Only if you’re willing to pay for my services.” You throw back at him, your own mouth cracking into a small grin. You both share a look before growing quiet again, taking in the spacious kitchen, and the other occupying the opposite end of it. Bakugou stares at the blanket covering your shoulders, and speaks first. 

“You remember the first day we met, when—”

“When I kicked your ass?” You interject, eyebrows raising as you down the rest of your tea. He scoffs with a roll of his eyes. 

“When you were upset, and calling me sexist?” He asks instead. Instantly, your joking mood disappears, and you find yourself sinking into the counter behind you. You hop up on top of it, wrapping the blanket closer to your form as you think back on the day you first encountered Dynamight, days after seeing his viral video. Your mouth sours. 

“You never let me explain.” He says quietly into the silent room, commanding your attention, which you’ve settled onto the small crack in the corner of the floor. Your eyes snap up to his, and you think, I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. You think, I’ve finally started liking you as much as a damaged person like me can. You think, why does he have to bring up the Red Medusa and Dynamight right now? You think, why are you ruining this moment for us? You think—what moment? 

“We had a running joke, back at UA.” He starts, despite the way your mouth downturns and you start to curl into yourself. “That me and Ponytail—Creati, were in competition for the biggest boobs.”

At that, an unexpected laugh rips out of you. You cover your mouth in shock, eyes wide, mouth trembling as you try to keep your shocked giggles at bay. On instinct, your eyes travel down to his chest and—yeah, he really doesn’t help his case with how he folds his arms under his chest, giving himself a sort of cleavage. He narrows his eyes at you, and another giggle escapes from the palm of your hands. 

“Shut the hell up,” he tells you, no bite evident in his voice, and it only makes more laughs run from you into the quiet air of the kitchen. “And we had a little reunion a few months back, and we all started reminiscing ‘nd shit. And of course, dumbass Sparky records the worst part of our conversation, crops out what was said before and after, and uploads it.”

Your smile dies down a little as you think back on the video of Dynamight, obviously a little buzzed by his slur and reddened cheeks. You remember him sitting away from everyone else captured in the video, grunting that Ponytail’s tits have gotten so much bigger over the years, he’s surprised that she hasn’t tipped over and created a fuckin’ crater bigger than Musutafu by now. 

“Out of context, it was gross.” Bakugou admits, nodding his head once, his eyes casted to the back of the couch seen from over the kitchen island. “But beforehand, the fuckin’ idiots had brought up the whole boob contest thing, and we were all joking about it, you know?

“Shitty Hair said I still had her beat, and I made that comment that you heard. But then, she came back and said mine were so big that she was sure that I took a leave of absence a few months back to get them done just to beat her.” He shakes his head at that with a huff of a laugh, and you chuckle under your breath at the thought of that. Big bad Dynamight going under the knife to get bigger tits. The thought makes you laugh a little harder than you expected to, before it dissolves into a full blown cackle. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You keep repeating, waving your hand at him as you wipe away a budding tear in your eye. Bakugou tries to sneer at you, but he can’t help the small smile creeping up on his face. You’re laughing, he thinks, he made you laugh. 

“It’s just that, the imagery of you doing that just surprised me, is all.” You catch your breath after a few seconds, a big smile still stretching your cheeks as you look down at his chest again. He covers it with his arms, and frowns at you. 

“Looks like you’re the perv here.” He counters. You chuckle, hiding your face behind your hands as you shake your head. Once you’ve finally calmed down, do you emerge again, smile not as big, but it still ghosts your face softly. 

“Thank you.” You state simply, bowing your head slightly to him. He cocks an eyebrow, goes to pick up his mug before realizing its empty, frowning at it. 

“For calling you a perv?” Bakugou asks, and you snort at that, shaking your head. 

“No, for taking the time out to clear that up for me. You didn’t have to.” Your voice drips with sincerity, makes Bakugou take you in more. The softness of your face, the gentleness in your eyes that he’s never seen before, how the low light shadows the highest peaks of your cheeks. 

“Yeah, but I knew it bothered you in that moment, and I didn’t think we could ever fully move past everything if I didn’t clear the air.” He tells you, voice softening the more he speaks. His eyes grow kind, and it becomes too much too fast for you, so you hurriedly look away to the mug in the sink. 

“Guess you’re not too much of a pig to be around.” You retort back, always falling back on insults when conversations get too serious. You hear Bakugou snort, and you snap your eyes to the fond look on his face. He stares at you for entirely too long, makes your face grow much warmer than you’d like it to, before he pushes off of the counter. He places his second mug in the sink, and when he gets closer to you, breathing suddenly gets a little more difficult. 

You eye the pinkish scar still on his shoulder, and now you understand why it doesn’t give you the same gratification that it usually does. You glance back at his eyes, and the soft look he reserves for you, flinching a little when his arm raises. But he only pats you on the top of the head once, his hand heavy, making you bow a little under the weight. 

“Get some sleep, nerd.” Bakugou tells you gently, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice this quiet before. His lip quirks up in a tiny smile, and he starts off into the hallway. But you find yourself blurting out before you can even think about it,

“What would the conditions be if I agreed to become a Pro Hero?” Your voice is shaky, unsure ground you’re settling on as your eyes try to find his form in the swallowing darkness of the hallway. You hear his footsteps come to a halt, and you’re too afraid to look at him when he backs up in the entryway of the kitchen. 

“So, you agree? To become a hero?” Bakugou asks slowly, and you’re terrified to look him in the face, see the curiosity, the hope, meld into his features. You shake your head abruptly. 

“Not until I know the conditions.” You tell him firmly, looking up to find his face in the shadows, how the carmine of his eyes seemingly gleams in the darkness. It both unsettles and calms you when the tiniest hint of a smile graces his features. 

“We can talk about it in the morning.” He tells you, nodding his head once, looking to you for confirmation. But you only eye him as you hop down from the counter, and place your mug beside his own two in the sink. 

“Along with the rent?” You bite at him, aware that he still hasn’t given you a price yet. But Bakugou only grins at you, shrugging, as he starts his way back down the hallway again. 

“Possibly.” He shrugs before he disappears into the darkness, waving over his shoulder. “Goodnight.” 

You mumble a goodnight under your breath, face entirely too warm for your liking. Maybe you’re catching a cold, you think. Because there can’t be any other explanations to feeling like this when Bakugou is around. 

Right?

…

You guys don’t talk about rent in the morning, and instead only about the conditions of you becoming a hero. Bakugou sets up an online meeting with Deku and Yuu to discuss what would become of you if you do agree. 

Condition #1: No more being a vigilante. (You figured that, but hearing it out loud still made your face sour.)

Condition #2: You shadow Dynamight most days when he patrols, so you’re not alone out in the field for the first year. (That’s a long commitment, you had told Bakugou, and he only frowned at you before turning back to the screen.)

Condition #3: You start actual hero training with a private tutor that will be funded by the agency Dynamight works at. (Why is everything centered around him? You mumble to yourself, which makes the blond bristle and mumble that no one else would take your rude ass.) 

Condition #4: Your Red Medusa tattoo has to be covered at all times in public, and you must pick another name for yourself that does not include red nor Medusa. (That one isn’t as reasonable as you wish it could be—there’s an attachment to the name. How can they expect you to just drop it, dead and weightless, like it meant nothing? Leave it to die in the streets, the same way you almost did?)

Condition #5: Do not let anyone know who you used to be. (Are you gone? As you sit here in Bakugou’s kitchen, have you already ascended, have you already had your memorial? Have they already snuck you into soft earth and Frankenstein’d your remains?) 

You tell them that you’ll think it all over, but you agree for the most part. You can ask Yuu about bringing in Vanity once you’ve proven yourself to not be a lost cause, but that’s if she would even be willing to change who she is for the justice system. In all honesty, you doubt it. But you don’t think it’ll hurt to try. 

Bakugou closes his laptop once the call is over, turning in his seat at the kitchen table to face you. You’re in your head, gnawing at your bottom lip as you mull everything over. 

Is this really what you want? To put your days of being a vigilante behind you? Can you really stomach saving just anybody, even if they don’t deserve it? Can you even fathom the attention you’ll get, positive and negative, at an even bigger rate than before? Knowing everyone will have access to your name and your face and your body and—

“Hey.” A gruff voice calls out to you, and your eyes snap over to find vermillion ones already staring back at you. You hadn’t realized just how tight your chest had gotten, how your breaths had started picking up, your hands shaking against the granite table. You search Bakugou’s eyes for some kind of safety net, some kind of tether that will anchor you back onto this plane. 

“Don’t overthink it. Do what’s best for you, yeah?” He says so quietly, as if it weren’t just you two in his spacious loft. But it works, the softness, makes you whisper back a quiet okay, your voice tiny as you place your feet in your chair to rest your chin on your knees. Bakugou stares at you for a couple of beats, speaks before he sees you sink too deep into your head again. 

“Ready to get some early training in?” He asks you, corner of his lip lilting when you instantly furrow your brows in confusion. 

“But I thought you didn’t work today?” You mutter, frowning at him when he stands and rests his hands on his hips, almost as if in waiting. 

“I don’t,” he shrugs. “But I figured this could be good for you. Know you like beating someone’s ass from those viral videos of you.” 

You think back on the many videos of you while in the streets, doing your vigilante work. A couple of times when your gun had jammed, or it was knocked too far away from you, or you ran out of ammo and had to resort to hand to hand combat. Those moments were always thrilling, and it would take you back to your days of self defense training. How your instructor would yell at you, push you to go harder, to not show mercy because the other person would never grant you the same grace. 

Every time you had to use your fists, you would always picture the person as your attackers’ faces. Every single one of them. Their smug faces suddenly blue and black, swollen and bleeding, begging at your feet for some reprieve, the same way you used to do. Hand to hand combat made you nervous if you didn’t have the safety of your gun, but it also gave you so much power you never felt as if you had before. 

“Yeah, I’m ready to go whoop some hero ass.” You nod, eyes far away as you stand from your chair. Bakugou has to take a step back as you almost bump into him, and he shakes his head at you as you make a beeline for your room, suddenly determined. 

“Can’t say that, when you’re gonna be a hero soon, too!” He calls out to you, but you only flip him the bird. He can’t say he didn’t expect it. 

chapter seven

please do not repost or rec on tik tok!

tag list: @endlessfreaky@iamaconfusedpan

[pondslime]

Bo and Lester Sinclair

AHHHHHHH, the stinky men themselves 🦍 + 🐀!!!

disclaimer: imo, any situation in which u "date" either of these two men would have to be predicated on some absolute tomfuckery and a hostage-type situation. LMAO. I see no other conceivable world where you'd just........run into them and have a normal ass relationship jhfdsjhfjdshjsdf they are so deeply ABNORMAL. so warnings for stockholm syndrome/dubcon headcanons below!!

once again under the cut bc a bitch truly does TALK

feel free to send me a character of ur choice for headcanons and I'll give u 3 pros and 3 cons of dating them. if ur so inclined!!!!

boseph

sidenote: I've been on a sabbatical from Him™ recently. he's been on the backburner. I've been hoovering down DIFFERENT fictional shlong. HAPPILY. so tell me why I was scrollin thru these gifs of him goin yum yum there he IS HIIIIII BABY hehehehe muy deliciosio. ?????? so fuckin embarrassing!!!!!!!!!!

ANYWAY.

3 PROS

dick game is fucking immaculate. I HATE to fuckin say it. literally crying screaming THROWING TF UP. bc come on. I'd LOVE. more than anything. to tell u with CONFIDENCE that it's subpar. but I'd be fuckin lying to u AND myself. and the gods would smite my fuckin ass from existence. so yeah. it's good. u know. the kinda dick game where he absolutely does not care if this feels good 4 u. and it's mean and awful............but somehow it's makin u astral project into 328798329832 different galaxies. it's SUCH a fuckin shame. smh.

despite being a FAKE ASS LARPING "mechanic", I genuinely do think he's handy and knows his way around vehicles/how to fix things. he's very much a car guy. <-this is also a CON. have u met a CAR GUY before??? immediate no. but I'm considering it a pro. bc u will definitely have to bring him sweet tea down to his stupid shop one summer afternoon. and the garage doors will be wide open and he'll be blasting korn or slipknot or some shit. and he'll be workin on a car engine in a slutty wifebeater with a slutty lil rag tucked into his slutty lil belt loop. and he'll be sweaty and covered in grease and annoying. he'll complain about how ur interrupting his work. and then u get banged on the hood of the car bc he's a skank. so it's a pro.

I just feel like he smells G O O D. like. AS MUCH as I call him stinky. I unfortunately think he consistently smells good. like. the kinda smell that makes ur brain go ooga booga cavewoman-mode and forget ur basic motor functions. sigh sigh SMH

3 CONS

EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN FOR THIS LOSER

MEAN dom (this is also. regrettably. a pro)

it would be SO fun to peg him. u will never peg him.

mommy issues out the fuckin WAZOO. daddy issues too. every issue in the fuckin book. get ready 2 be seen less as a person and more as a weird conglomeration mishmash projected fantasy-nightmare. he's dedicated his whole adult life to maintaining a murdertown in his beloved mama's memory. his mother also fucking hated him. he's very aware of that. recreates and sexualizes his trauma to feel better about all that. yikes!!!!!!!!!! YIKES!!!!!!!!!!

lester

3 PROS

full of boundless enthusiasm!! genuinely interested in what u have to say!! will happily talk to u for hours about whatever dumb shit u have boppin around ur brain!! most ppl are usually unsettled by him (honestly, for valid reasons LMAO. I mean. he IS leading u to certain doom in his big bro's helltown), so having someone around who doesn't treat him like an oddity has him BUZZING.

he's a v strange but thoughtful gift-giver. I definitely see him as the kinda guy to randomly give u weird lil trinkets. like here u go. he whittled down this wood into the shape of a catfish for u. he's coming over to present u with a bizarre taxidermied raccoon w/a frilled dress and tiara. both the dress and tiara are made of recycled chip bags and six-pack rings. u love it

I feel like he makes a MEAN gumbo. u wouldn't even know it's made of lizard tails and alligator eyeballs. unless he told u. which he will. w/a huge grin while ur mid-mouthful

3 CONS

actually LITERALLY stinky. like. RANCID. DIS-COS-TANG. I'm not discounting the fact that he takes baths in like. a metal tub in his backyard w/dial soap. from time to time. but come on. he's a bit putrid. a bit foul.

I v much feel that he hasn't navigated a lot (if any) normal adult relationships. so get ready for some pie-in-the-sky goofy affection that skews pretty immature. he means well, but there's a lot of cognitive dissonance and general weirdness there. he's hardly been shown any good representations on how relationships should work, so his interpretation is...................boyish. and strange

I.........feel like he's clingy. just. smthn about him. as happy-go-lucky as he might appear, he's v liable of getting his feelings hurt if he feels like ur pulling away/losing interest in him. all the sinclair boys are pretty DEEPLY maladjusted lmao. I could see him being the type of personality to sulk around. he's the baby of the family after all. just a lil guy (affectionate) (derogatory)

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Cards & Conversations (Werewolf!Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama

Pairing: Werewolf!Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: Mild swearing, difficult father-daughter relationship, emotional abuse, melancholy thoughts, allusion to past violence and death, scars

Summary: We lose things over the years. Family members, innocence, the perfect world you held for a single summer.

Your heart.

But sometimes the gods are gracious and re-entwine your fate with the person you thought you lost forever, vanished after a heated conversation you were shut out of. Carefully shut away in a gilded cage again with only a blank page and his old typewriter for company. However, the tarot cards your brother gave you know what happened ten years ago.

They know why the King has returned to Camden.

Author’s note: This wee piece has turned out heavier in plot than I thought, enough so for me to want to work this out into a proper multi-part story in the future because there is a lot to dissect here and it feels kinda rushed. To me, that is, maybe not to you. Ah dinnae ken.

Anyways, I kept the tarot reading a bit shallow if only because I am still a beginner/someone who does it as a hobby. 

TH Masterlist

Tag list: @potter-solomons​ @vir-tual​ @zablife​ @buttercup32sstuff​ @ilovemanypeople​ @hecatemoon87​ @dreamlandcreations​ @elijahssuit​ @liliac-dreamer​ @alikaheroes​​

Support can come from the most unexpected corner, yet exceed your expectations in tenderness. 

A condolence card.

Flowers for your mother’s grave.

An arm around your shoulders throughout the funeral.

A hand to hold yours while navigating the chaotic and dangerous streets of London when finally having a chance to escape the mansion on the hill.

Fingers to keep yours, comically small compared to his, warm outside. 

In bookshops, only let go of during a cup of coffee or tea should it have a café.

An unnaturally warm body to snuggle up to whenever you feel cold.

Shoulders to be carried on during the odd trip down to Margate.

But those holidays during which my brother, Charlie, and I were kept out of business and separated from the rest of our family came to an end. About ten years ago, a long-standing peace pact was broken.

I can still recall the argument resounding from the drawing room. It’s funny how I thought shielding my ears would not have it touch me. Naive, really, innit?

“You crossed the line, Alfie.”

“You fuckin’ what?”

“You crossed the line.”

“The line?”

“She’s my daughter!”

But that wasn’t the real issue. No, there were two actual problems.

One, I’m Thomas Shelby’s and Grace Burgess’s daughter.

Two, according to my father, despite the similarities in hair and eye colour between us, I am the living embodiment of the only woman he’s ever loved. Don’t get me wrong, Lizzie is great and we get along well. Ruby, bless her spirited little heart, is as much of a sibling to me as Charlie is. 

But she isn’t Mum.

And Thomas wouldn’t let her memory be tainted by a connection to his greatest rival and ally, Alfie Solomons.

The King of Camden.

The alpha of the Camden Town Pack. 

The man who stole my heart ten years ago. 

That brings me to problem number three, hidden in the shadows and all too gladly forgotten. 

I was sixteen. He was thirty-six. 

At the time I didn’t know he had imprinted on me. Neither could I have guessed that there were such a thing as werewolves. The supernatural, in general. It was only when I started working in an odd little bakery run by an elderly woman I discovered how thin the veil between the realms are and what it means to have a certain heritage.

Aunt Polly is right.

We shake hands with devils and we walk past them. 

It’s a blessing to be a witch. But also to be a woman locked in a gilded cage, albeit, paradoxically, with a chance to have a life outside the family business. To have a talent for writing and being able to make a living out of it. To have fans curious about my stories, eager to read them and rejoice whenever they see me at signings and book events.

While I’m glad for what the gods have gifted me, to be a modern filid and possess a sixth sense, I might owe them for the rest of my life.

Because only last month they gave me back my heart.

Drunk, his hair and beard out of control, an ugly deep scar over his left eye leaving it blind, and soaked by the rain, he was there.

Alfie.

On my doorstep.

“So you’re the new witch in town, eh? Set up shop in me borough. Me kingdom,” he drawled. However, the way he leant in the doorway with haunted blue eyes ruined the mock indignation at once. A careful though gentle smile spread on his lips as he took me in. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, you’re even prettier than I remember.”

He leaned in, almost toppling over with unsteady feet. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save us.” I am still uncertain whether he was heavily sniffling or it was a sob he tried to conceal. ‘‘This godforsaken soul couldn’t save you.’’

Thomas walked in at that moment, acknowledging our surprise guest in a cool voice. “Alfie.”

The prodigal alpha of Camden clumsily righted himself, glaring at the tyrant of the Westminster townhouse. “Tommy, good to see you. ‘Ow’s business?”

“Never been better.” Thomas shifted his attention to me. “Y/N, go upstairs. Mister Solomons and I have to talk.”

“I’m not-’’ I began, looking over my shoulder.

“Go upstairs!”

“Don’t yell at her!” Alfie roared before turning to me with a softer voice. “Go upstairs, right? It’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow… if me head can remember.”

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my breathing even. As per usual, I managed. Still, I could feel myself hanging on by a thread, ragged around my throat.

Always pushed into the corner one way or the other.

Always me.

Why does it always have to be me?

Locked away in loneliness.

Shut away in a prison more cruel than The Tower. Left to my own devices and thoughts dedicated to the shadows, the dark corners of my mind.

Upstairs, Charlie walked out of his room, pale and concern etched on his face. He’s only too aware of how Thomas regards me and to this day makes sure I get treated as fairly as possible. “What’s happening? Why was he yelling at you?”

“The King has returned,” I mumbled, quickly brushing past him since I my pride refused me to let him see the tears brimming on my lashes. Footsteps as loud as a ghost’s, I slipped into my room and closed the door as softly as I could behind me.

The war inside was no one’s business, only for me to fight.

Another night of spilling the blood of its casualties on the page, somewhere between the lines a remembrance for the girl who hoped to rise like a phoenix. Another silent funeral for my soul.

An author is, essentially, all the characters she has created and is yet to create. My stories are told by people that carry little bits of myself, carefully concealed behind a fictional mask. But that’s what gets us through the day, innit, the stories we tell ourselves.

I was already broken up into so many fragments that night that I don’t even know who it is staring back at me in the mirror. Who is the woman people cheer for at signings in bookshops? Who is the lonely girl wandering in every Waterstones in Birmingham and London, a family member always nearby? Who was the young heart that was shredded to pieces and only recently glued together by rum rather than whiskey?

It’s a question I ask myself again now, looking down with a wistful smile. 

A blank page. Empty. Adjustable. Without personality. Whatever you want it to be and can give life to from your inner world.

Outside, the sound of shuffling feet goes accompanied by groaning, curses, low grumbles, and the creaking of wood. Somewhere in the distance a fight breaks out between two men, their voices too dim to make out the topic nor arguments of their heated debate. 

Although it isn’t my writing room with a desk by the window, this London hideout has become my personal bubble too. Alfie offered me to use his office whenever I want to, regardless of him being at work or not. Nonetheless, as during those holidays in Margate, he still prefers me to work on my books in his company on his rare day off. After all, despite the fact I’m, in his words, “off the fucking menu”, he trusts no one in his pack to not try their luck with me.

What a story that would be. A werewolf lower in rank trying to shack a Shelby witch, breaking the alpha’s rule. The alpha would go ballistic and a fight would break out.

Blood would flow.

The end is someone's death.

Fortunately, the rozzers in this part of town are in Alfie’s pocket because I don’t know how I’d save him from a charge for murder without my family’s help. Even then it’s highly unlikely he’d get away with it since no one wants him to live as desperately as I do.

“That ain’t writin’.” Alfie steps into the office, closing the door behind him. It falls into the lock with a soft click.

“No, indeed it isn’t.” I thumb the deck of cards in my hands. “Dad goes ballistic every time he catches me. If I don’t remind him of Mum, it’s this. Charlie’s different, though. He gave me these for my birthday and covers me as much as he can. He knows they’re important to me.”

“Funny, Tom going fucking angry at gyppo stuff.” He scoffs, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “His anger is un-fucking-justified. Yes, you look like your mum, but that ain’t your fault. Besides, you’re… never mind. You don’t need to hear that.”

Maybe not right now, but still… one day I want you to say it again.

If only to hear I’m a beautiful person to someone.

To him.

I cock an eyebrow and scrunch my nose. For both our sakes, I ignore the unfinished remark. “Westminster changed him. We’re no longer gipsies. Looks like we’re fucking above that.”

“Not you, though,” Alfie says, a silent hint for me to continue in his soft-spoken voice.

I sigh. “Not me. I’d rather be a witch and honour my roots than become a toff settled in a mansion.”

“Got the itch to travel, eh?”

“Always. I remember what you promised me.” Throat constricted with solemn nostalgia, I swallow and fail to muster even a sliver of a smile. “But then again, I was just a girl back then. Stupid I believed you.”

Alfie opens and closes his mouth, but settles for a groan. He leans in and places a big warm palm over my fumbling fingers. A crown to protect the queen’s hand. “The road is open. I couldn’t take you then, right, I’m very well aware of that, but we can still go.”

“Despite who I am?”

“You’re not a fucking Shelby. Freedom is a ‘uman right, but not every ‘uman gets to enjoy it. I wanna open the cage, see where the little bird goes.”

And will the wolf follow? Or will he get someone else to free him from the Tower?

I bite my lip, gaze averted to our hands. 

Alfie clears his throat and leans back. The rings on his fingers shimmer in the artificial light when he lets his entwined fingers rest on his stomach. “Self-taught?”

“Polly taught me. Well, the basics. I developed my skills further myself.” I tilt my head, our eyes locked while an idea pops into my head. “I’m no expert, but… can I do a reading on you?”

He silently gestures at his desk, giving permission.

“I’ll do a simple spread. Three cards. Past. Present. Future.”

Hopefully, the cards will reveal what you and Thomas swept under the carpet.

I shuffle the deck, focusing on the question of what happened a decade ago. If there’s anything I want and need to know about the pack leader’s history, it’s this small piece we have in common. 

The crossroads between our stories.

I draw the first card, presenting the past. 

Ten of Swords.

The second card, the present. 

Six of Cups.

The third and final card, the future. 

The Chariot.

My stomach drops at the sight of the wolf pierced by swords. “Something failed, a defeat that led to some sort of collapse. But it wasn’t a part of your business that failed, was it?” 

I furrow my brow, pondering what could have happened. However, not a second has passed before I flinch and a vision flashes behind my eyes. 

Growling. Blood. Organs. Alfie clenching his fists and holding his head while his skin ripples. Empty and broken bottles of rum. The nauseating noise of bones cracking resonates in my ears while skin replaces fur and vice versa in quick succession. 

“It was a collapse of self. You took to the bottle, more and more, to drawn out the feeling of having failed. Changed more often until…” my breath hitches and I snap my head up to meet his gaze, still panting lightly. His expression is stoic, his sentiments concealed. “You went feral.”

So that’s why Camden was quiet, but Ollie was always tense. Poor sod, being left in command without warning.

I compose myself as best as possible and continue. “The present, Six of Cups. This world is still strange to you, but slowly you’re getting familiar with it again. How… how much do you remember?”

“Only you. Me fuckin’ noggin’ is a mess, one black hole.’’ Tenderness illuminates his eyes, warming the blue sea and icy lake in them. ‘‘But I, I swear, right, I’ve never forgotten you. You were there, even in the midst of the worst frenzy.”

I shake my head, desperate to stop him before we go down a familiar road. Before I start hoping for an ideal. “Don’t tell me you came back because of me.”

“You, yeah, you told me you wondered whether or not I’d come back. So,’’ he spreads his hands for a moment and then puts them down again, ‘‘ere I am.”

I mean, you’re not wrong. I did say that, but that was last month.

When I slipped out of my room just to get a glimpse of him before going to bed, feeling like a little kid again, rebellious enough to defy the rules. I ended up sitting at his bed for longer than I intended. To be honest, I had to kick myself out of the guestroom lest I ended up sleeping next to him, which would have worsened the already precarious situation with Thomas.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Drunk, yes. But not asleep. I forced myself to stay awake, to enjoy every second of your company.” He bites his lip, failing to sound any less direct. “Not a moment went by I didn’t want to go ‘ome. But I ‘ad no one to guide me there.”

“Your guide didn’t know where to look. Lost herself in a terrible dark forest,” I murmur. “Must be strange, though, being back after so many years. Camden has changed.”

“It ‘as, but I still remember the way around me kingdom. Seems even the new faces know who sits on the throne.” He looks down at his hands and rest of his body. “Odd, innit, clothes and what we use them for? Feels unnatural, not like what Yahweh had planned for us to be wearin’ when ‘e made us. Didn’t want to give you a fright, though. Lots of new scars that ‘aven’t ‘ealed yet or barely. Yeah… would only stress you out. I do apologise for me manners, though, the way I ate that sandwich. One eats differently... out there. Besides, being blind on one side ‘as its complications.”

“You were a messy eater even before you left.” I can’t suppress a smile at a particular memory. “I always had to help you wipe crumbs from your beard whenever we went out to lunch. D’you remember that?”

“Can’t say it sounds strange to me ears.” His brow furrows and he flinches, fingertips pressed to his temple. Between shallow breaths sounds a note of delighted relief. “I think such a memory just returned.”

“You’ll get there.”

It’s better to remember something rather than nothing at all.

“Doc told me the best way to sort out the fuckin’ mess up there is to visit the places I’ve been. Said it could form a trigger.”

I shift in my seat. Regardless of being an adult, Thomas still likes to keep a close eye on me. And if it isn’t him, he’ll send another watchdog. Knowing him, it’s highly likely he’ll send for Michael, who has pretty much figured me out over the years. That’s what you get when you spend too many Christmases at Polly’s. “I’ll have to find a way out of the cage to meet you.”

“I 'ave a key.”

“You do?”

Ignoring my question, Alfie nods at the three cards on the desk. “Last card. What does it mean?”

Blinking in surprise at the swift change in topic, I clear my throat and return my focus to the reading. “The Chariot. You’ll gain discipline and self control. You found a way to quell the rage inside or, rather, subdue the Wolf.”

“Guess the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is paying off,” he chuckles.

“I thought you did boxing?”

“I did that before, you know, the whole leaving and feral thin’. Currently doin’ that.”

“It sounds less violent.”

“It is.”

“No cage fights?”

He shakes his head, a few strands of grey highlighted by the light. “No, love, no more cage fights. I can’t right remember, but I stopped participatin’ in those a long time ago. ‘Ell, I don’t even know anymore what they were like.”

“You were fearsome,” I say, hoping to spark a sliver of a memory which won’t contain the events that ended with fatal accidents. “Nothing could stop you in the ring.”

“What calmed me down?”

“A bath and a cup of tea.”

“Right after the fight, I mean.”

“They’d sent for me lest…”

“Lest what?” I avoid his gaze, which is clearly not appreciated. “Lest what, love?” he repeats, tone harsher and sharper.

I press my lips together, breathing in deeply. “Lest the wolf took completely over. The day it happened for the, fuck, I don’t even know how many times it had been. Four? Five? It might have been ten when I finally got through to you. And on that night, I made you promise to stop fighting.”

“Did I? Stop fightin’, I mean?”

I glance around the room, lost for how to answer. “I don’t know. You were proud of being a wolf, hell, the fucking alpha of Camden Town. It was the one thing you didn’t want to give up. Fighting was in your nature and I fear that it’s a part you wouldn’t give up. Not even for me.”

“I ‘ave now, yeah, I ‘ave now. No more fightin’, Y/N. I swear so on everything between this world and the next, every bloody grave I can think of.”

“Perhaps that abstinence from violence is where your success lies.”

Maybe temperance forms the key to self-control when it comes to us. Maybe we were poison to each other before, but what if we keep an eye on the dosage?

What if we can find our way back?

The door opens. Ollie remains in the doorway, expression pale. “Boss, Randy and Pete are nigh on having a shiv dance.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Alfie grumbles as he rises to his feet. “I’ll be there in a minute. Go on, off you fuck.”

“Yes, boss.” The second-in-command curtly nods at me, smiling politely. “Y/N, sorry for the intrusion.”

“It’s alright, Ollie. Thank you.”

“‘Ow about you stay ‘ere, hm?” Alfie proposes after his subordinate has closed the door. 

“How’d you mean? I don’t want to inconvenience-’’

“You’re not. And I don’t mean ‘ere as in this shithole of a basement with all these numpties. What I mean, right, is ‘ow about you stay ‘ere, at my side? Plus, I’ll be ‘onest, and you know I only am with you, it’s part of me plan to prove you’re not nor ‘ave ever been a Shelby.”

“Enlighten me,” I say to humour him yet harbouring no expectations for this to be anything more than a joke. ‘‘Tell me about this big plan of yours.’’

“A change of name.” Lost in thought, he strokes his beard. “Yeah… that oughta do it. Y/N Solomons has a nice ring to it, don’t it?”

Jaw clenched, I put the cards down to cross my arms. “Alfie, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not being funny, Mrs Solomons. C’mon, stand up.” He walks around the desk and pulls me to my feet, his calloused palms warm against my skin. A strong whiff of oud wood and vanilla hits my nose when he leans in to rest his forehead against mine. “This old selfish chap means it. Marry me, eh?”

I run my fingers through his bushy whiskers, an old habit I can’t seem to quit. Sooner or later, this will turn out to be him pulling my leg. The words leaving my mouth are sceptic too, slow and hesitant as they roll off my tongue. “Are you mental?” 

“Perhaps, but I want to set you free. Show Tom he has a wonderful woman of a daughter who deserves the world, right, a world I want to try and give ‘er.” He removes one of his rings and the silver chain around his neck, making a necklace out of the pieces of jewellery. Then he reaches back to put it on me. The silver is lukewarm against my chest, having retained some of his natural heat. “I don’t need an answer right now. You don’t even need to love me in return. I simply wish to keep you safe, that which I couldn’t do the first time. But this time, yeah, this time I will. Swear so on every holy book in this whole damned world. ‘Sides, I had to pop the question at least once while I’m still ‘ere. While I still remember.”

My breath tapers, the butterflies violently trying to break out yet all congesting in my throat. Stuck in a net of fear. “I want to find our way back, I do. But marriage seems too big of a step to take.”

“You know me better than anyone else, love. Take your time to think about it, eh.’’ He lovingly strokes my cheek, softly purring. ‘‘I’ll wait. ‘Owever, if you reject my offer, at least use the name to be free. I’ll find you a place to stay either ‘ere in Camden or in Margate. A nice big apartment or an entire ‘ouse, whatever you fancy. Wherever you fancy, actually. So if you wanna go to, let’s say, France and mingle with fuckin’ baguettes, I’ll make it ‘appen.”

“Alfie…”

Before I can begin to protest, he shushes me by pressing his lips on mine. They’re still as soft and plush as I remember, tender yet full of restrained passion. Needing more of this, us, but sharing the hesitancy of chasing the ideal world we lived in for a single summer. 

After a moment he breaks away and kisses the tip of my nose. “I need to get back to work. Make sure these floors stay clean and those runts get a reminder of the bloody rules. Stay for as long as you like.”

I watch him leave the office, grown a little colder.

And aside from the dim shouting, growls, and Alfie putting the other wolves in place, there’s nothing.

Nothing except a racing, conflicted heart and an all too familiar companion.

Silence.

[pesterloglog]

Arquiusprite, Davepetasprite^2

Act 6, page 7923-7927

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Nepeta?!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah!!!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I mean

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Dave?!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah!!!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Dave and Nepeta,

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Nepedavesprite?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < davepeta!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < (sprite squared lol)

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Davepeta Sprite Squared

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> It is I, Arquiusprite, to the first power

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Which is to say, Equius, and an artificial intelligence composite of your bro, in the form of the cool broken sunglasses I am wearing

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah i know dummy! BPP

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> How is this possible?

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> How did you come to be??

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < umm i dunno

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < some shit happened

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < was on a tea date, shook hands with myself, you know

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < basic fuckery

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < how did YOU come to be???

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I...

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Yes, that is a fair question

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Some b*llshucks happened, which made little to no sense, and now here I am

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I can only presume this was the case for you as well, given your incoherent and poorly developed anecdote

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < what ya doin there bro?

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Huh? Oh. Nothing really

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Doing the final work for this session. Releasing the grist hoards. Nothing that matters now...

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Now...

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> That you're here

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *Sniff*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yo are you crying??

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < awww

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Davepeta, I apologize for the embarrassing secretions from this imperfect, semi-organic form

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> How ironic, that I spend virtually 100% of my time secreting liquid from virtually 100% of my body's surface area, and yet a few more drops from my eyes would cause me such shame

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < h33h33h33 youre so fuckin gross!!!!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i really missed you dude

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I missed you as well, or, I would have, had I permitted myself to think about you

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Alas, I failed to protect you from an unpleasant clown in the most disgraceful way possible, much to the shame of my dead troll half, and much to the disgust of my digital human half

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Hence, to the Nepeta portion of you, Davepeta,

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I am so very STRONGLY sorry

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < theres nothin to apawlogize for!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nepeta furgave you for that and anyways im not even her anymore

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i guess davesprite had some old issues with his bro he never really sorted out but hey im not him either!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and youre not his bro or equius youre arquius who is a new and cool and beautyifful thing and anyway all those old troubles are f33ling so overwhelmed by new and different emotions and its great!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Yes, Davepeta, you're right

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> It is really fl*pping great

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *Slight sob*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < dawwwwwww

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < there there you blubbering goddamn cutie

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *davepeta sniffs curiously at arquiusprites grody and emotional body*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *p33-yew davepeta exclaims, recoiling like they were just using their muzzle to investigate the business end of a shitting dog*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> What are you...

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I mean,

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *Arquius submits his question to Davepeta in the form of a third person statement, thereby acknowledging once and for all that he is in no way above the childish nonsense of his former moirail*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *He in fact acknowledges by e%tension that he is not above anything or anyone, and never was*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < omg yes!!!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i mean that was a good start but also a little abstract man, you should try incorporating some actual behaviors and actions into your RP things to punch them up

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Behaviors and actions?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < like think dude, how the hell is davepeta supposed to react cutely to some internal epiphany your havin? hows that shit externally TELEGRAPHED bro??

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I see

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *I mean, Arquius sees*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *Arquius soon realizes he will need a truly unreasonable supply of fresh, dry towels to absorb the perspiration caused by two separate lifetimes of regrets and foolishnesses*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *He embarks on a mystical quest of the spirit, through a land of his imagination's design as a part of his personal "Alternative Universe" fiction. It is a mountainous land consisting of only fresh, perfectly folded white towels, and rivers of milk running through its valleys*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yum yum!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *"Yum yum" indeed, he thinks to himself with his silicon brain, e%actly one trillion times per second, for several seconds. But now is no time to sup from the streams of dairy. He gathers a heap of clean towels in his strapping arms. Yes, these guns you see here. Two astonishing sinewed meat trunks clutch the unsodden rectangles of fabric, like tremendous baguettes of rippling, twitching protein tissue.*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < B\\

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *He reflects on his pair of powerful weapons with admiration, and wonders quietly if Davepeta would like a complimentary ticket to the gun show. But due to his obscenely powerful mind, this thought took place in the blink of a microsecond, and he proceeds to have additional, similarly rapid cyber-reveries. Including, but not limited to, thoughts of fondness for Davepeta, and some e%tremely comple% genetic algorithms comparing the merits of various redemptive gestures, and-

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < arquius youre RPing your internal thought process again

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Oh. Sorry

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < its ok for startin out, youll get the hang of it if you k33p at it

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you being willing to try is all that matters and is hella nice B33

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *starts to purr a sick beat!*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> You mean, like a rap beat?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < um, duhhh?

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *Arquius wonders if the purred rap beat is strictly in the hypothetical plane of roleplay, or if it will be an audible phenomenon taking place in reality soon*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *davepeta gives a little knowing nod, as if to say, you bet your chiseled ass itll be an audible phenomenon in reality soon*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *Arquius begins fle%ing rhythmically, in time with the beat of the purred rap. This hypothetical role playing action should also be regarded as a precursor to this deed being literally e%ecuted in reality*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *davepeta starts droppin the illest purrbeat you ever heard but stops suddenly, as they become mesmerized by the hypnotic flexing of arquiusprites humongous muscles*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Do you... really like them?

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> *He says*

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i... really do

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *they say*

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Would...

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> You like to touch my muscles, davepeta?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yes i believe i would

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Then I must command you

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Please touch my muscles

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yes ok

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> I won't take no for an answer, Davepeta

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Touch my muscles

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i said yes!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Touch my muscles

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yes!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Touch my muscles

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yes!!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Touch my muscles

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < YES!!!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < dammit dude

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < why dont we stop pussyfooting around stuff and get down to brass tacks

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> What brass ta% do you mean, Davepeta

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i think you know B33

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Davepeta, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < mmm hmmmm!

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> To be clear, you are insinuating that we attempt to e%ecute a rare, and highly sweet, "bro hug bump"?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hell yes i am!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i am insinuating that we attempt nyan other than that exact type of hug!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < are you ready dude???

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Yes!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < lets DO this thing

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Yes!!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < lets make this shit work

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> Yes!!!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < where doing it man

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> YES!!!!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < where MAKING THIS HAPEN

ARQUIUSPRITE: 🕶️--> YES!!!!!

[theotherpacman]

I don't know if you're still taking recs but here are some fics,,,, im not gonna say you HAVE to read any of them (even the one that I say is a must) esp bc these are long ones... some longer than others... but here you go

tma:

A Couplet of Fools jon is a uni professor who has just been assigned to teach a poetry class which sucks for him bc he hates poetry, martin works in a tea shop and is finally trying to get his degree and signed up for the poetry class bc he loves poetry.

Full, Riotous Bloom I only ever read this the once but holy fuck it cut deep in my fuckin chest dude it GOT to me. unforgettable. a leitner hits martin with hanahaki disease

Plus One idk if you're into polyarchives but fuck dude I am. jon falls in love with each of his assistants and it's gay

bnha:

Yesterday Upon the Stair honestly a must. if I've ever laid eyes on a Must for any fandom it's yesterday upon the stair for bnha. izuku can see ghosts

throw me a goddamn rope - at least enough to hang myself with ONE OF MY FAVORITE FICS OF ALL TIME. it's quite long so I get it if you're not in for the long haul. and it's also unfinished and likely been dropped. but holy shit dude. time travel fic where the heroes have lost but aizawa goes back in time to properly prepare the one hero who could've saved them, deku, so that this time he'll be ready... except for now he's 7 and tiny and already has emotional issues

Tickets to the Todoroki Drama are Buy 1 Get 1 Free you didn't mention these characters but I have to recommend it anyway, sorry. touya and fuyumi get hit with a body swap quirk, which is a hell of a shock for fuyumi bc she thought touya was dead. lots of fun.

this is so genuine but i have never been a fanfiction person until recently... so i am going to ask with as much sincerity i can muster. do you guys have ANY fanfiction reccomendations. i mean from anywhere but ill also put stuff in tags that i already know and am interested in... please... it can be just friends or theyre kissing or more i am in it for the plot. im so real. HELPP!!

[league-of-kiiboy]

The Great My Hero Academia vs Homestuck Debate ™️

so full disclosure this is just about what's more toxic/problematic. it's not meant to be taken seriously and is a dumb thing that i didn't want to subject everyone in a group chat to.

ALSO NOT EVERY FAN OF HOMESTUCK OR MHA IS LIKE THIS. MY HOMESTUCK/MHA FRIENDS I LOVE U.

AIGHT ANYWAY

so homestuck vs my hero academia yeah

on the homestuck side, we have the horror stories of people trying to dye themselves gray in sharpie baths, getting face paint everywhere, and generally causing mayhem by defending their problematic faves (cough cough vriska cough)

on the my hero side we have tales of problematic ships, fetishization of characters/relationships and general immaturity.

SO WHAT'S UP WITH THAT. WELL YOU'RE IN FUCKIN LUCK BECAUSE AS SOMEONE WITH REAL EXPERIENCE IN BOTH FANDOMS WE CAN DEDUCE THIS TOGETHER. now kai, kai you might say, but there's problematic material with both fandoms; isn't it hard to judge?

AND YOU ARE RIGHT. BOTH FANDOMS CAN KINDA SUCK AT TIMES BUT HERE'S THE TEA.

MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WITH BOTH FANDOMS HAS BEEN DIFFERENT.

homestuck, being one of my first fandoms and the first one i cosplayed characters from, offered a community of individuals who generally just wanted to have fun, meet other people who also had the same perseverance to read this monster of a webcomic, and maybe play spin the faygo with other cosplayers. not the worst.

however online you get people defending VRISKA SERKET and sure she is a complex character but HOLY SHIT SHE MIND CONTROLS TAVROS OFF OF A CLIFF. shipping those two kinda sucks, but from my memory it's also depicted as. kind of sucking. not a thing to romanticize at all. (that gets into the whole deal of kismesis vs lovesprites but I DIGRESS)

now my hero academia. oh my fucking god my hero academia. absolutely UNHINGED. and NOT IN THE GOOD WAY. i had to watch as two YOUNG TEENAGERS walked into hot topic on dog leashes as deku and todoroki doing clear ship stuff. my hero academia fans are the most disrespectful mfs i have ever met. THAT ISN'T TO SAY THERE AREN'T GOOD ONES i absolutely love the friends i made in that community but holy FUCK random my hero cosplayers or fans will come at you at cons and completely forget what human decency is. random my hero fans will come at you and pick you, a STRANGER up into the air and twirl you around for fun. granted, part of the reason for these actions are because they're usually fucking young and just getting into fandom spaces, but BOUNDARIES. THEY GOTTA EXIST IN AND OUT OF CONS.

anyway online my hero fans aren't much better.

there's a lot of fetishization of lgbtq ships because it's 'cute', and it's not inherently wrong to lile an lgbtq ship but there's a point where it's... yeah. there's some great content out there, don't get me wrong, but there's a lotta weird shit that comes out of that fandom. please do not ship all might with any of the students omg.

there's also the issue of mha pandering to shonen demographics; we get a lot of fan service with momo/invisible girl (somehow???) and a few others. we also do not fucking talk about mineta i do not care he is a shit character. it encourages the audience to be weird to the characters and it shows because my hero fans are so. fucky. at. cons.

while this only scratches the surface of these two fandoms and is absolutely not applicable to all fans of each franchise, my final vote is that my hero academia is the worse fandom because of it's younger fans' lack of boundaries and the willingness of the fandom to be a bit freaky in the bad way and in public.

final note, homestuck generally appeals to older gen z individuals and millenials; therefore the type of fan you interact with often has more life experience, knowledge, and knows what is and isn't appropriate. there's still bad apples and there's still younger fans, but nowhere near mha. mha is full of teenagers, and that's not inherently a bad thing but it has become MUCH harder to enjoy that fandom space as an adult.

[surftheorca]

atone -- episode 1 (part I): fluf'd up drug ring

tw: drug mentions

Tone Avant’s House | Wednesday, 2nd August 10:27am

Tone wakes up to a rather rough knocking at his door. Wearing his usual outside-ready outfit of a white hoodie, a checkered crop-top and black jeans he answers, rubbing his eyes and grumbling about the time of morning (despite his sleep-in).

The person at the door huffed, as if they were annoyed to be here as well. They were wearing a royal purple blazer, a tie-dyed singlet and ripped, bleached jeans. ’Tone, you’re a great friend. But if you’re going to call me over to your house, you should probably be awake to answer the fucking door.’ The person spoke, as Tone groaned and let them in with no apology. ’Look, Hue. I tried this coffee I ain’t had before last night, and turns out it was weak as hell. And besides, I swear I gave ya house keys anyway.’ ’I left them at home, because I thought that calling me over meant that you would answer the door without me waiting half an hour.’ Hue growled, pulling an iced coffee out of their colourful custom-made tote bag and handing it to Tone. ‘By the way, this brand actually keeps ya up for ages. If you needed recommendations, you should’ve asked.’

The white-haired detective grumbled, taking the coffee and sitting back in a beanbag. The colourful visitor sat in another beanbag across from him, sipping a bubble tea. ‘So, what’d ya call me over for anyway?’

Tone took a long swig of his drink, getting right to the point. ’Well, you heard about the Fluf cafe, right? How there’s massive rumours about some sorta drug ring going on?’ ’Sure do. I love that place, they have the best food.’ ’Apparently the one that was behind it all, Panc Fluf, died mysteriously. He was running the cafe until a while ago, when his only child Souffle started running it. Souf’s my favourite, we just vibe a lot.’ Hue laughed. ‘Same. It’s because all three of us take no shit. But if Panc’s out of the business, that’d put Souffle in charge of the biggest drug supplies in all of Arcadium… But how did the old guy die? I don’t think there were any health issues. Allegedly.’ Tone gave Hue a bit of a look. ‘You best not be getting involved in drugs. Without me. And honestly, I think someone’s tried going for the king to take over.’ ’You tryna say Souffle killed their own dad? It’d lead to plenty of money, but that’s pretty fuckin cold.’ ’Not necessarily Souffle, but it was definitely some foul play in my eyes.’

The pair considered for a moment. In their relatively short detective careers (roughly three months so far), they had mostly solved basic murder cases. A killing like this would be much more than advanced for the pair, but considering Tone calling Hue to his house, clearly he was confident they could do it.

After a while of thinking (and finishing their drinks) Hue looked to Tone with a smile. ‘I think we gotta head to the Fluf Cafe if we’re gonna start somewhere. Chat with the first suspect, y’know?’ And with a nod Tone grabbed a notepad he had sitting on a nearby table, his phone and his keys, and the amateur crime solving pair were on their way to a lovely sweet treat and the most interesting case of their lives.

[dailydoseofselfcare]

Alright, I watched the first lord of the rings film for the first time in my life a couple weeks ago, here are some highlights. Tw for: spoilers for the first LOTR movie (Fellowship of the ring), discussions of: violence, drugs, swearing, and a lot of gay pining, also the use of the phrase “piss river” probably more often than is necessary

Elves: 👀👀👀👀👀

Oh dwarves also: 👀👀👀👀👀👀

Sounds like Sauron had daddy issues, or mommy issues

You might not feel thin if you had more than cake, jam, wine, and moldy cheese in your house

OH MY GOD ARE THEY DOUNT DRUGS

Ooooo I love the fireworks

Why does wizard man get all the history books and papers

How are the children supposed to learn not to repeat the past and die like a little bitch in a piss river if they can’t access the knowledge

At least fucking Frodo makes Gandalf tea god damn

Me @ the characters: HOLD HANDS

Isn’t this other wizard bitch evil. I feel like I remember that he’s evil and a backstabber.

Is there a dragon in these ones or do I gotta wait for hobbit

Ooooo scary glass orb

That’s what I thought you fucking bitch. Fuck you. Close your doors bitch that doesn’t mean you can’t get that fucking staff shoved up your ass. Shove that white orb down your fucking throat till you choke.

You spin me right round baby like a record baby right round round round

CORN. CROMCH. CROMCH THE CORN. ITS READY TO BE CROMCHED.

Oh my god the silly little video game is realistic to the movie? You do get chased around in a god damn corn field?

Bitches y’all are afraid of worms? (Friend: you’re afraid of lady bugs). Yeah but I don’t spend my 110 fucking years of life lolligagging with no shoes on through fields of ladybugs.

They really gave these bitches 0 weapons

Because a horse couldn’t jump 5 fucking feet into the river

Lotr horses weak compared to skyrims. Can’t even fly. 0/10.

These hobbits are so fucking stupid. Real white woman in a horror film vibes.

Whenever the chanting starts I can only think “Asmodeus, Satanus, Lucifer”

Have these bitches never heard of coal

Oh YUCK. DISGUSTING BIRTHING RITUAL. COVERED IN EARTH UTERUS. SLIMY.

[insert the sorry, mommy bit here]

There’s so many handsome men with long hair oh my god

“Still sharp” no shit Sherlock

Also the king of the elves is not daddy material

The elves’ city reminds me of fuckin markarth

Aragorn, that’s his name. Anyway his little smirk? Fantastic.

I’d like to have all their weapons, preferably at once. Take this as you will.

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST BILBO WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT

Off we go, walking. Can’t wait till there’s giant spiders. Pretty scenery though. (Note: I describe all of the LOTR and Hobbit films as films where they walk in circles and do nothing but fight giant spiders)

Tbh I only trust Aragorn here. If shit happens with him later I will be devastated.

Ah yes two old men fighting through magical chants 100% the way to go

Have they really not gotten Frodo a pair of shoes yet Jesus Christ

The pony’s name is fucking Bill??? Everyone else has bomb ass names and the pony is Bill????

Sorry, Gimli, oh tentacles??? 👀. Anyway rip to your family. OH KRACKEN? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

“I have no memory of this place” me constantly, Gandalf, join the club

Oh that is a huge book

Big oof @ the clanking good job other hobbit

Cave troll: ugly. Not daddy material. Also did they use donkey noises for it?

Rest in piss to Frodo, at least you didn’t die in a piss river like that other bitch

All these men flinging and catching and holding each other while crossing a gap is pretty gay, ngl

Oh dragon? Dragonlike? Whip? Oh fuckin rip Gandalf.

Oh woods time? Is it spider time soon? OH MORE ELVES???

Oh pretty tree elf architecture I approve

Men? Crying at the beauty of a woman? Couldn’t be me.

Oh having a panic attack bc of voices in your head? Me too, dude

Yeah this elf woman? Bad vibes. Creepy.

Why is this one still covered in goopy earth placenta. Give this bitch a bath he has to smell horrible.

Okay how the fuck does the math work out if the human king was 3000 years ago, his son took the ring, died in piss river, gollum had it for 500 years, then Bilbo had it for however long, and Aragorn is the son of the second king?

Auburn hair bitch (Boromir) back the fuck off.

This is a shitty fucking plan sending Frodo by himself.

He go toot toot

Also I wanna run through a forest

Oh that bitch dead, yeet

Do arrows really go that far into someone?

Oh pulling the sword into yourself? Ngl… 👀

Anyway rest in piss to those we’ve lost

If Sam dies by drowning I swear to fuck

Honestly Sam is an OG friend, the only good one

Oh boat burial for Mr. I Thought I Could Have The Ring. He also deserves piss river, so good.

[cabbagezonk]

im so fucking frustrated about what happened at my wedding but everybody ive talked to has tried to assure me that “it was great” but for me it fucking wasn’t!!!

my selfish fucking family ruined basically everything important at the wedding because all they fucking gave a shit about was making the decorations look nice! they went behind my back and BOUGHT extra decorations so that all the flowers could match, when i specifically didn’t want them to match!! and after all that they couldn’t even put the mic in the right place or set up refreshments for people like i wanted! my mother, who was THREE FUCKING HOURS EARLY to set up decorations, somehow couldn’t get the important stuff ready AND WAS FUCKING LATE. SHE WAS IN CHARGE OF PLAYING MUSIC BECAUSE SHE BEGGED ME TO LET HER HELP. AND SHE WAS FUCKING LATE SO SHE COULD GET READY WITH HER TRASH ASS BOYFRIEND I DIDN’T WANT THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE. WE WERE JUST STANDING THERE WAITING FOR HER, AND WHEN SHE GOT THERE SHE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PLAY MUSIC OR WHAT SONG WE WANTED! WE PUT IT ON A PLAYLIST I N  O R D E R. and then her fucking mom FORCED all our guests to wait for us to arrive to eat, when we specifically didn’t want them to do that! we had a limited time at the venue but we still wanted to get pictures (the ONLY thing that turned out right) so we figured everyone would eat and hang out, we’d get there and have cake! but because everyone was forced to wait, half the guests were already gone by the time we got to cutting the cake! my best friends didn’t even get a chance to give their speeches because we were in such a rush! I didn’t even get to sit down and eat cake with my friends because we all had to take it to go! after MONTHS of my mother and her mom pestering me about the most minuscule details of the wedding, stressing me out, making me miserable, making me anxious about my own wedding, they can’t even get the most basic shit right! i worked so fucking hard to make this a special thing for me and my partner and not a single thing we wanted happened. i’ve been so upset about it that i cried basically every day of my FUCKING HONEYMOON. i tried to keep it to myself but it definitely affected me and my partner, i barely remember most of the trip at this point. and then i find out my fucking mother TRESPASSED into my house just because i didn’t leave a light on for our FUCKING CATS. who the fuck does she think she is? she’s CERTAINLY not my fucking parent!! after all the shit she put me through and CONTINUES to put me through, what authority does she think she has to tell me how to live my life or come into my fucking house without my permission? i helped BOTH her and my fucking father through their divorce, talked her down from suicide NUMEROUS times, and have put so much fucking work into trying to get her to stop hoarding and starving herself! she’s fucking incompetent and she thinks she can tell ME how to be an adult? she’s NEVER been on her own, it was always her mom or my father taking care of her, she’l literally never supported herself! whereas i’ve been on my own since 18 and i’ve already accomplished more than she ever will! i’ve had to fucking fight through all the mental health issues and damage she did to me, relearn half my education because she was too fucking lazy to teach me, and basically learn how to be a fucking person for the first time in my life. does she have ANY  idea how fucking damaging her neglect has been? forcing us to stay inside 24/7 with almost no contact with other people, much less kids our own age? being fucking isolated with nothing to do and nowhere to go? we’re pretty sure it literally stunted my mental development and i’m only now understanding the effects of that! my body hurts from never getting the chance to exercise or run or play with other kids. and now it’s too late! i can try to fix the mental damage, but any physical damage is fucking done! i’ve tried to talk to professionals about it, but nobody fucking gets how bad it was! i WISH i could make them understand, let them live my fucking memories, maybe then they’d get it. what it’s like for your entire childhood to be a blur of the same 3 rooms, no friends and nothing to do. living in a fucking hoarder house with no concept of hygiene. the fucking shame i feel now for how i used to live, but it’s not even my fucking fault! i was a child, how was i supposed to know? its unbelievably humiliating to think back on, but nobody seems to see it that way. i’m so fucking sick of feeling like this. of trying to move past what my mother fucking did to me. i didn’t know if i could before, but after this? i’m fucking done. there’s no way in HELL i’m ever letting her get away with this. i’m done pitying her, i’m done trying to fix her life. she has NO fucking right to call me her parent, all she’s ever brought me is pain. she has the fucking nerve to talk about how “she’ll always be there for me” but when has she EVER fucking done that? does she think i just don’t have as many problems as her? that i dont suffer and cry and get angry? i may have lived with the people who spawned me as a kid, but i grew up alone. she’s used me as an emotional crutch for years without me ever getting any support back. all she ever did was invade my privacy, humiliate me, and rage and cry at me. what the fuck was that supposed to teach me? i can’t remember the last time i considered telling her about how i was feeling. i remember HIDING from her everytime i was hurt or sick, even as a small kid. i can’t fucking wait to move across the country and never speak to her again. i’m done trying to be the bigger person and let all of this shit slide just because she’s too fucking unstable to handle hearing it. if i had my fucking way, she’d know nothing about me. but she lives across the fucking street from me! she knows how to get into my house! this is the third fucking time in 2 years she’s been in my house and messed with shit without permission! after everything i’ve fought through to become the person i am, or even just to become a person at all, she has no right to congratulate herself on a job well done. 

[rayalltheway]

Thinking about AU things and here’s an out of context thing I need to say because of it

To Catch A Leaf is the best episode of Monkie Kid and I will die on that hill

Here’s why.

- Qí Xiǎotiān’s hiccups were really fuckin cute-

- Pigsy and Sandy have DEFINITELY dated in the past that doesn’t really mean much to this discussion I just wanted to say that

- Tea is great I love tea you give me an episode about tea and I will instantly adore it

- “By the gods of plot convenience!” another thing I love about this show it’s so, SO self aware.

- Single-character centric episodes are consistently really good

- Sandy is perfect and pure and wonderful and proved himself to be the most well-adjusted person here even though he’s clearly been through SO much to the point he had to get therapeutic help for it I wanna hug him-

- Just the part with Huntsman and Sandy separately travelling to get the flower, I could watch that forever

- Has some of the best animation in the show and is beautiful the whole way through

- Seriously how and why is this fucking lego show portraying trauma so well

- And YEAH you think they’d treat Sandy’s therapy as a throwaway joke but NOPE they took that seriously, Sandy is a character who got therapy for his issues and is happier and doing better with his life as a result love that in animated shows

- “Hurting others isn’t a measure of one’s strength.” Are those arc words they sound like arc words to ME-

- “At the end of the day, helping my friends is more important than anything else in the world! Why do you do it, huh? Why are you her “errand boy”?”

- “What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted?” That scene. We all know that scene.

- Huntsman’s semi-breakthrough? Like, being the first to get the memo about the LBD situation? I was not expecting that at ALL but it just worked

- I know this episode got overshadowed(hehehe) by Shadow Play which is a shame because they both hit hard in VERY similar ways

Anyway thanks for coming

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

[fandom-puff]

Mistake

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x ShelbySister!Reader

Requested by: anon

Summary: Alfie knew he made a mistake when he pushed you away, and when you show up in the middle of a meeting with Tommy, it all comes flooding back to him

AN: sorry writing has been few and far between this past week. I’m honestly not feeling much inspiration to write the requests in my inbox (don’t worry- if I’m not writing yours I’ll say- plz don’t bombard me asking if I’m doing this that abd the other!). Also, tomorrow, I’m gonna make a start on the kinktober stuff, so I can get it all queued up for the relevant days. Anyways, enjoy.

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing

He remembered it, plain as day.

The way your smile faded into a deep frown; the way your bright eyes dulled, before filling up with tears; the movement of your lips, despite no words coming out; the cream cake you had left on his desk as you fled the bakery before the tears could fall.

He couldn’t bring himself to eat the pretty cake, slightly squashed from being in your bag, the icing a little lopsided...

He let ollie have it when he told him to cancel they table at the restaurant he was meant to be taking you to that very night. “Shame, that, Boss. She seemed to really like you,” ollie said, leaving the room before he could get a clip round the ear.

“Yeah... yeah it is,” Alfie had mumbled into nothingness, staring at the door rattling in its frame. He brooded for weeks, hardly seeing anyone, snapping at those he did. But it was more than his life’s worth to even think about seeing the Shelby girl as much as he had been. If word of your illicit relationship reached Birmingham, all deals with the brothers would be off- as well as, most likely, his head.

Or cock, he thought shrewdly, sighing as a telegram from Birmingham came through. It had been three months since he last saw hide nor hair of a Shelby, and he could only imagine what Tommy wanted with him now.

***

Life in small heath was, admittedly, not as glamorous as it was in London, and no where near as exciting as the bakery in Camden Town. Still, it was your home, and you adored every inch of it. On your first night back- the train had been delayed- you went to your aunt Pol’s not wanting to deal with Tommy’s bombardment of questions at that hour. Once Polly had lowered the gun she held to your forehead as you came into the house unannounced, she pulled you into a tight hug and fixed you some whiskey, sensing that tea probably wasn’t strong enough.

“I’ll talk to tommy,” she said gently. “Tell him the deals off. He shouldn’t have sent you in the first place, not to London. Not on your own,” she said, before tucking you up in bed. You were glad no one had told her that her niece had been to barter with Solomons all those months ago (she would never have allowed it in the first place). Even if she sensed your heart shattering into a million pieces, she was none the wiser to who caused your heartache. You were fine with that.

***

That was until three months since your return- and not a word said to tommy about the issue with Solomons- you barged into Tommy’s office.

“Cakes and pies for you, boys! Can go running a business on empty bellies- shit. Sorry Tom. No one told me you had a meeting. Wasn’t in the diary,” you said bashfully as John grinned at you.

“Not to worry, YN. Mr Solomons dropped by,” tommy said cooly as John took the cakes off you and put them on the counter with the whiskey. “Polly seems to think that all business deals with Mr Solomons here have been rejected. Deal’s off, she told me,” you gulped under the gaze of your older brothers, biting you lip slightly as Alfie turned slowly to you, the wide brim of his hat casting shadows over your face.

“Why don’t you come and sit down, Miss YN?” He said. You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them. It had been so long since you’d heard him speak.

“Don’t you bloody tell our sister what to do,” Arthur growled from the side of Tommy’s desk.

“Shut up Arthur,” you and tommy said at the same time as Tom directed you to sit down next to Alfie anc across from him. “Now, YN, I sent you to London last year for a very simple purpose. To get Mr Solomons on our side. Now, you come back to small heath eight months later, telling me that there’s no deal. That mr Solomons got cold feet. Now that, YN, is bullshit. Because we all know what a negotiatior you are. Lord knows, it’s a wonder we got anything done while you were little, forever insisting we teach you things you had no need to know,”

You looked to your knees, before looking back up at tommy, decided to fix him with a matching icy stare. You would not be lectured by your brother, not now that you were a woman yourself.

“And then, three months after her return,” he continued. “It comes to light, Solomons, that there was a deal. But you sent my sister away with no real explanation,” he turned to Alfie. “And I’d like to... put that to rights, if you will. Your lot need us, Alfie, as much as we need you. Now. Explain. Why’s my sister sent away despite her very reasonable deal, Hm?”

It was quiet for a moment, and you hoped to any god who was listening that Alfie would bluff his way out with one of his meandering speeches.

“Right, well, you see right,” a promising start... “you send your little sister, who’s a proper little woman, right, down into my bakery, with her pretty eyes and her flirty laughing, yeah? You send your little sister down to Camden Town to seduce me,”

Shut the fuck up, Alfie, you thought.

“And yeah, I admit it worked for a bit, yeah, took her out a few times an’ all,” Tommy’s eyes hardened, and Arthur and John had murderous expressions on their faces. “We was getting along alright, wasn’t we, YN, love?” You nodded, your jaw tense. You would certainly be in trouble with your brothers after this. “But then I sent her away. Told her ‘nah, YN, pet, we can’t keep this up, right? Too fuckin’ dangerous for you down here, yeah. And what would your brothers think, eh? What if you end up pregnant or summin’” I said to her, right, and sent her back up to this shithole to keep her out of trouble,” he leaned back in his chair, as if his explanation had solved everything.

It most certainly had not.

If looks could kill, Alfie Solomons would definitely be six feet under, under the harsh glare of the Shelby brothers. You snapped.

“For fucks sake!” You cried. “So I’m seeing Alfie fucking Solomons! So what?” You demanded. “What’re your going to do about it, eh? Cut him a new smile and have half of London after us, eh? You said it yourself, Tommy, we need Solomons as much as his lot need the Shelby’s!”

Your chest rose and fell with fury, and Alfie couldn’t help the gaze of adoration that he bestowed upon you.

“YN,” Arthur said, his measured voice forced, as if he was trying very hard not to shout. “If this man... this-this bastard has hurt you or threatened you-”

“Oh shut up, Arthur. Not every man is a threat to me,”

“But YN, you’re-”

“I’m what, John, eh? Delicate? Stupid? Too young? Fuck off. How many times have aunt Pol, Ada and I fixed your messes, eh? I think I know what I’m doing!”

You rounded on tommy, who was suspiciously quiet. “Alfie Solomons is a very dangerous man, YN,” he said steadily.

“Oi, Tommy, mate, I am right here. I let Arthur slide, yeah, Cos he’s off his rocker,”

“Shut it, Alfie,” you hissed, and he held his hands up in surrender. “Tom. I’ve grown up around dangerous men. All my life, I’ve had dangerous men around me. Dangerous men walked me to school. Dangerous men helped with my homework. Dangerous men took me for my first proper drink. Dangerous men have and always will be my family,” you spoke with such passion, your eyebrows firmly knitted together as you spoke, jaw set the way it always did when you refused to back down. “I am not a child anymore, boys. I can’t be tucked away nice and quiet in Small Heath all my life. Just be glad that you’re aware of this now and not when I’m four months pregnant with a baby I’ve no intention of getting rid of!” You swiped angrily at the tears that had trickled down your cheeks as you glared tommy down.

Sighing, he stubbed out his cigarette and stood up, straightening his jacket. “That’s that then,” he said, beckoning an unwilling Arthur and John to follow him (both murmuring angrily and confused).

“Oh and Solomons? I expect to see a ring on my sister’s finger by Sunday,” he said, before slamming the door shut.

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