#be weird about the old man coward!!

[xx-psych0-rabbit-xx]

obsessed w this nsfw fic that had a tag saying "please picture pretty boy renfield you wont like it if hes an old man" what is he not good enough for you at that age.pussy.

[angel-ofthestars]

ok stupid angst time cuz its 2:30 in the morning and i feel like shit

so. like technically two days ago i passed out at the sight of my own blood, took a header into the corner of a marble table, and couldn’t move my hands or face properly for ten or twenty minutes.

i didn’t go to the hospital. i feel like that was probably a hospital worthy event. maybe i’m stupid. but since then i have felt like shittttt and i’m kinda worried. my hands feel weirdly sluggish, my mouth hurts, my head has been hurting constantly. i just don’t know how to tell my parents, because it feels stupid.

i just. yeah. whatever. everything hurts and i’m worried, considering according to my mom i hit my TEMPLE on the CORNER OF A TABLE (there’s a huge ass bump there and everything) and my dad just kind of. casually offered the idea that maybe i sprained my wrist. and then didn’t say anything else. i was dissociating so hard (and still am) that i’m still debating if it was even real.

of course it’s real. i have an entire fucking bump on my head. there’s a scab on my hand. i just. i hate it here. i’m scared.

what everrrrrr man. stares off out my window or something

[purplesuitcowboy]

cw: dubious consent, fauxcest, double penetration, free use

"I don't have any cash on me," her stepfather, Thomas, told the frazzled young man at the cash register.

"But, I have this,” he said. He jostled the young women who stood beside him for emphasis. Quinn offered up weak protest from behind the ball gang in her mouth. She hated when he did shit like this. Ever since he’d figured out that she’s dabbled in selling nudes online, how he was able to tell if was her when she hadn’t even shown her face was beyond her, he’d been strong arming her into all sorts of shit under the threat of disclosing her little business endeavor to her mother.

Her mother had always been a bit of a prude and if she found out, Quinn would be kicked out of the house for sure and her sizable inheritance would be reduced to 0. She was sure that she could find a place to stay if she got kicked out but losing out on her inheritance was simply not an option. She gone along with his demands which had started as head in the parking lot of his job and had quickly ballooned out of proportion from there.

As it turned out, Thomas was a bit of a kinky bastard but he couldn’t live out his fantasies with her mother so he used her instead. Quinn was almost positive that Thomas preferred it that way. Even before their little agreement, he’d always told her that she had a body built of sex and that she’d make a man very happy one day. This had been very, very weird then but she had ignored it. He made her mother so happy that Quinn had just written off his comments as personality quirks. They hadn’t been. They were the truest expressions of his wishes and desires.

In a sick way, she was perfect for him. She was just as much as a freak as she was, got just as turned on by their slinking around as he did. She just had the good sense to be ashamed and embarrassed by it. Quinn tried not to think about the fact that she was helping her step-father cheat on her mother. Surely, finding out that this had been happening behind her back was worse then Quinn selling her nudes online. Either way, she was a coward because she said nothing and continued fucking her mother’s husband.

Quinn was trapped between her step-father’s bulk and the edge of the counter. Already, she could feel the beginnings of his hard on against her ass. Thomas held her tightly, securing her arms behind her back. He pushed her towards the counter, forcing her to lean awkwardly over it. The precarious position highlighted her generous bust which was barely being contained by her the low neckline of her short dress. Her hardened nipples could be easily seen through the thin material. She briefly made eye contact with the cashier but quickly averted her gaze, deeply embarrassed by the situation. Despite her embarrassment and shame, she feel heat begin too bloom between her legs as she felt the cashiers eyes on her tits. She didn’t have to see his face to know that he liked what he saw. In her minds eye, she could already imagine these men sharing her body, fucking her holes and filling her with their cum. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together.

"Oh, I'm not sure I can..I don't, uh,..."

"Come on," he paused, squinting at the young man's name tag. "Gordon? Damn, what did your parents give you an old man name like that for? Anyway, you're gonna pass up a fuck with a pretty young thing like my stepdaughter here. You like girls don't you, son?"

The young man nodded, rendered completely speechless by the situation. He saw a lot of weird shit during his shifts at the convenience store -especially during the late shift- but this was really taking the cake. He thought that the pair were odd when they walked in but he hadn’t thought much of it until they’d gotten to the counter.

"Well then give 'em a feel,” the old man jeered. “You're gonna make her feel bad if you don't. You're gonna make her think somethings wrong with her tits. You don't want that do you."

Thomas pulled down the top of Quinn’s dress, freeing her tits from their confines. Roughly, he grabbed one of her breasts, massaging it with his hand. Quinn whimpered in response. With Thomas’s grip on her loosened, she freed one of her arms and used it to prop herself up on the counter. Hesitantly, the cashier reached forward to gently fondle one of Quinn’s tits.

“Come on, kid!” Thomas exclaimed. “Grab it like you mean it. None of that pussy shit now.”

The cashier nodded and with renewed vigor, grabbed Quinn’s breasts, kneading them with his hands. Her eyes fluttered shut and she seemed to push her tits out as if offering herself up to him. The edge of the counter dug into her hip but she barely noticed. Gordon could feel his dick harden against his thigh as he fondled her. Her skin was soft beneath his finger tips, and her nipples were red and rosy like the cherry on top of an ice cream sunday. Looking at them, at her, made his mouth water. Emboldened, he leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking it and rolling it with his tongue. Quinn moaned, drool gathering on the ball gag and dripping down her chin to her chest. Thomas watched as the cashier lavished Quinn’s tits with attention. He slipped a hand between her thighs, fingers gently rubbing against her slick folds. He loved have easy access to her pussy so she rarely wore panties around him. Another whine escaped Quinn’s lips as she tried to rock her cunt against his fingers.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you baby. Your little pussy is so wet,” he told her, voice almost loving.

He plunged two fingers into her cunt, slowly pumping them in and out. His hand was quickly covered in her juices as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, first one and then two and three. Gordon paused his ministrations and cocked his head to the side, watching enrapt as the older man fingered Quinn’s cunt. His fingers were shiny with her juices as he pumped them in and out of her hole. With every attempt to pull out, Gordon could see the walls of her cunt tightly clenched around his fingers, seemingly unwilling to let them leave the hot, wet channel. If Gordon had any blood left in his body, it had all rushed to his cock. It throbbed painfully in his shorts begging for attention. He’d been hard for a while but it was becoming almost unbearable. He let go of Quinn’s tits and pushed her out of the way so he could hop the counter to join them on the other side. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Thomas stopped finger fucking Quinn’s pussy to watch the cashier volt over the counter to join them. He took a step back and, tugging at her hip with a wet hand, pulled her back to give the young man room to stand.

Eagerly, Quinn leaned towards the cashier. She braced herself on him, holding onto his hip with one hand. With her other hand, she pulled down the zip of his shorts and pulled out his harden cock. Her eyes widened as she admired its size and thickness. The cashier reached for the ball gag, pulling it out of her mouth. Her eyes locked onto his, she took his thumb into her mouth, running her hot tongue along the tip and sucking on it lightly.

“Fuck” the cashier said, breathless.

Dutifully, Quinn took his cock into her mouth. The cashier groaned, as his cock was enveloped by the wet, heat of Quinn’s mouth. She took him deep until the head of his cock tapped the back of her throat. Her eyes watered but she didn’t gag, instead, she breathed heavily out of her nose trying to steady her breathing.

“Atta girl,” Thomas told her. “Show him how well I’ve trained you. Fuck her throat, son. Don’t worry. She can take it.”

She seemed to gurgle something in the affirmative. He placed his hands on the top of her head and steadily began to fuck her throat. Thomas was right. Quinn forced herself to relax and use her. After a couple of thrust, she pulled her head away, gasping for breath, before she took his cock back in her mouth. As she serviced the cashiers cock, Thomas helped himself to her pussy. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Giving himself a few strokes, he lined himself up with her cunt. He rubbed his shaft against the lips of her pussy, coating himself in her juices, before he slowly began to push his thick cock into her waiting hole. It didn’t seem to matter how much he fucked her, her cunt felt as tight as it had the first time that he’d had her. He groaned as pushed inch after inch into her cunt until he was seated to the hilt. The two men quickly found a good rhythm using her body, one pulling out while the other pushed in and vise versa.

Adjusting her hold on Gordon, Quinn steadied herself on one hand so she could slip the other between her legs to rub at her tender clit. It didn’t take long before she was writhing and cumming on Thomas’s cock. As she came, her cunt tightened around his shaft and Thomas quickly found himself emptying his load into her cunt. Gordon came soon after. He tried to pull out of Quinn’s mouth to cum on her chest but she held him tight forcing him to cum into her mouth. He pulled out of her lips and she opened her mouth, showing him his load on her tongue before she swallowed.

“You’re not done are you?” she asked, looking up at the cashier with big doe eyes.

The cashier looked down at her, a look of awe on his face. Surely, she was a succubus or some other worldly being. He’d never met a woman with the sexual appetite this one seemed to. He worried that she would suck his soul out of his cock and that he would happily let her do it. Sharing her with her stepfather was a bit strange, but he’d cum so hard it hardly seemed to matter at that point as long as he got to fuck her again. Thomas laughed behind her and slapped her ass, earning him a squeak of surprised from Quinn.

“Horny slut.”

“Please?” she said to the cashier, ignoring her stepfather. “I want to have your cock in my pussy.”

“He can fuck your pussy but I want to fuck your ass while he does it.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay,” Gordon responded, eyes never leaving Quinn.

Thomas pulled out of Quinn’s cunt and unceremoniously picked her up off of her feet. The head of his cock teased her asshole. She reached down and helped to push his cock into her hole, toes curling as his cock filled her ass. Thomas held her with her back again his chest and his hands on her ass. Her legs were open showing off her cunt, still leaking Thomas’s cum, to Gordon’s gaze. Thinking with his lower head, Gordon stepped between her legs and pushed his cock into her waiting hole. Between her juices and Thomas’s left over cum, Gordon’s cock slid in easily.

“Oh my god,” Quinn said with a groan, closing her eyes and learning her head back on Thomas’s shoulder.

“So… fucking…tight,” Thomas said, reeling from the sensation of her ass clenched around him with the additional tightness added from Gordon’s cock in her cunt.

Thomas and Gordon scrambled to adjust their shared grip on her body. Thomas adjusted his grip on her ass and Gordon grabbed hold of her thighs. Working together, they worked to bounce Quinn on their cocks while also attempting to thrust into her holes. It was an awkward process but it felt so good that it didn’t even matter. Quinn had never felt so full in her life. She felt as if any moment she might just combust. It was painful and uncomfortable but so pleasurable.

She opened her eyes and lifting her head off of Thomas’s shoulder, leaned forward to capture Gordon’s mouth in a kiss. He swiped at her bottom lip with his tongue and she opened up her mouth, allowing him to intertwine his tongue with her’s. He was so wrapped up in kissing her that he stopped thrusting which made it much easier for Thomas to hammer his cock into her ass. With a free hand, Quinn reached down to rub her sensitive clit. She moaned against Gordon’s lips as she came. Her body went ridged in his arms as she rode out her orgasm. Greedy, she continued to furiously rub her clit, pushing herself to another orgasm.

“Fuck,” Thomas exclaimed as he felt her clench around him. “Fuck!”

Her asshole was so snug around him that he could hardly move but it was fine, the rhythmic clenching of her hole as she orgasmed guided him to his release. He stood there for a moment, reeling from the sensation. Finally, he braced himself and slowly pulled out of her ass. His cum leaked out of her hole in the absence of his cock but he used his thick fingers to fuck it back in.

Frank no longer right behind her. Gordon lowered her to her feet and turned her, bending her over the counter so he could finish himself off. Frank’s softening cock seemed to wake back up at the sight and he stroked it idly while he watched Gordon roughly pound her from behind until he came deep in her cunt. Gordon took a step back and the two men admired the sight of Quinn’s sloppy, cum covered holes.

“So, I’m good to take the cigarettes, right?”

[anakinsdove]

Sub sam monroe x fem friends hot older sister ❔

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader

summary: it’s been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he’s still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn’t there before.

c/w: nsfw, loser Sammy, blowjob

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 2-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 1,352

“What’s that for?” You ask your little rat of a brother why he’s suddenly carrying enough snacks to throw a party.

“Sam is coming over, he’s going to spend the night here” Your brother says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Who?” “Sam” he rolls his eyes “Oh! Sammy, blonde, walks weird?” “Yes…” he’s slightly confused at your description then he realizes you haven’t seen Sam in a while…. A long while?

“He dyed his hair” your brother ads “Seriously?” You say sarcastically clearly faking interest trying to find something worth watching on tv “And he walks normally” “I’m sure he does”

“Anyways aren’t you a little bit too old for sleepovers?” Your condescending tone is very annoying to your brother but that’s what sisters do. “Aren’t you too old for Halloween?” “Huh?” Your brother smirks pointing at your makeup, you respond by throwing the pillow on the couch with enough force it feels like a brick, he runs upstairs

“coward” you mutter to yourself and suddenly someone’s knocking on the door

Someone’s knocking extremely loud

You decide to ignore it as you keep painting your nails but the knocking is very persistent and it gets louder somehow accidentally painting your toe “fucking loser” you curse under your breathe and stand up walking furiously towards the door.

“What!?” Your tone is harsh and the boy takes a step back, Sam looks stupid as he makes sure he’s in the right house “I-is James here?”

“Sam?” You ask softly this time, your anger quickly dissipating from your features, eyeing him up and down… wow.

“Hi Y/N”

You open the door for him to come in as he awkwardly goes through the door, he tries to keep his hips as far he can from yours while walking in, you sigh at the awkward silence

“How have you been-“ “You look very different-“ both of you say at the same time “You look the same” he says “I looks twelve?” God you’re making fun of him

Hes about to answer when your brother comes down running from the stairs “Sorry dude I was taking a shit!” He greets him as you stand aside

“Don’t talk to her Sam” your brother says smirking “Shut up man” they run upstairs and you shrug trying to shake the awkwardness away

You keep trying to distract yourself with tv but it isn’t fucking working

Sam Monroe….

He looked so different from what you remembered, he’s taller, there’s a lot of piercings stuff on his face and you’re pretty sure he was wearing eyeshadow.. his hair now it’s black… funny because you remembered him being blonde and looking like a puppet, you giggle at the thought… Oh! and his clothes, he was wearing a Metallica t shirt, Vintage….

You moan and you realize you been rubbing your clit through your panties this whole time then gasping in embarrassment and closing your legs

What a slut… what if someone saw you rubbing your cloth on your living room, that would be a reason to kill yourself, what if Sam saw you like that?… that however doesn’t sound as bad

Control yourself Y/n

A few hours later the sun has set… you succeeded distracting yourself and as soon as Sam leaves you won’t have to see him again you’ll forget this awkward chapter in your life where you masturbated to the thought of your younger brother’s friend until… “Why me man!?” “Cause I’m about to win this level” “Youre shit at the game” “Shut up!” you hear the boys arguing upstairs “It’s just fucking popcorn Sam” your brother mocks him as Sam sighs coming down the stairs

You can’t help but look up at him “Hey” Sam stops midway “Hey” he tries to sound and look relaxed, but when did your boobs get so big?

“Pop corn?” You asks pointing at the box he’s holding in his hand “I’ll burn them” he says

“It’ll be my brothers fault” you laugh and Sam smiles “C’mon” you guide him to the kitchen and put the popcorn in the stove “You look very different too” he responds to your earlier conversation, you smirk at the opportunity of teasing “Really? I thought I looked twelve” “Fuck no” he suppresses a laugh and you nod playfully “Well, maybe a little” “Fuck off” you push him playfully and his back makes contact with the counter “You still have your dimples when you smile” your heart actually softens at his comment “You don’t look like a puppet anymore” he rolled his eyes “I meant that in some ways you look the same but in other- other ways you look very different” he stares at you collarbone

“Sam?” You take a step forward “It’s mean to look at girls boobs when they’re talking” he freezes “I was not-“ you grab his bicep “I always knew you liked me” Sam is really about to die or kill himself, whatever is option is quicker… instead he grabs your waits and pulls you to him then freezes again “You want to kiss me Sammy?” His gaze switches from your eyes to your lips, to your boobs that look so good in that thank top, then your lips again, his lips hesitantly meet you in a clumsy kiss… but then you find out he’s so hungry for this, teeth clatter and he hums into your mouth, his hands shaking as he holds your waist…. You pull away teasingly as he tries to chase your lips but you have other plans like kissing his neck

“Fuck” he moans, his little sound has you clenching your thighs, you need this boy asap…as you nibble and suck his neck then pulling away again “Sam” “What?” He says breathlessly

“Can I suck you off?” WHAT THE FUCK he nodds shakily and you get on your knees “J-James?” Sam’s says as he watches you unbuckle his belt “Don’t talk about my fucking brother when I’m going to give you a blowjob” “Sorry..” “He’s playing, he wont find out.” You try to reassure this poor boy as he nods shakily “I promise” you unzip his pants and take his boxers down urgently, it’s too much, you hear the popcorn popping, heavy breathe, the waves crashing distantly… his cock slapped against his stomach… Sam looks down at you in awe

You start stroking him, watching the angry red tip leaking already, “w-wait wait I’m gonna c-cum” Sam warns virgins you think to yourself and force yourself to stop stroking him, if he’s gonna fucking cum he’s cumming down your throath tonight “fine” you say angrily and take him down your throat “Fuck!” Sam moans as his shaky hand tangles in your hair pushing you down further “I can’t I can’t I’m sorry” his eyes roll back and his back arches, your wet lips wrapping around his thick cock…. Sucking him sloppy it’s just so much

He doesn’t know why god is on his side tonight but he’s not complaining, he beats himself mentally, he seeing stars, fireworks exploding behind his eyes and all that cringy shit he once heard, now he knows it’s real, he feels your tongue massaging the underside of his cock and you make something with your tongue where it licks at his balls slightly and-

“Fuck!” He yells as he cums…. Thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throath, he tastes salty…

Your doe eyes look up at him seductively as you keep licking his tip, his legs tremble as he spasms, he has to push you away so he doesn’t pass out

You finally release his cock from your mouth “breathe Sammy….” “Fuck sorry I-“ his breathe is heavy “Shhh….” You kiss his lips softly so he tastes his own cum…..

“You’re sleeping here right?” He nodds

“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” he nodds again and you know this boy is completely at your mercy

“Oh and Sammy….. your popcorn” you point to the stove and evident smoke “Shit!” Sam runs and trips over his pants, pulling them up quickly and trying to not burn your damn house.

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

(Im very sorry for the absence! I been pretty much busy and a little unmotivated to write but I’ll try to post another fic this week, this was a little bit rushed but I hope you like it)

@anakinsbbgirl

[unclewaynemunson]

"What. The. Fuck."

Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.

Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.

"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."

"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"

"Eddie, sit down."

"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"

"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."

"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.

"Then whose is she?"

"I told ya to sit down, Ed."

And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.

"Your dad was here earlier."

Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.

"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."

It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.

Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.

"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.

"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."

"Jesus Christ, what a mess."

"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."

Eddie swallows thickly.

"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."

Eddie nods.

"You wanna hold her?"

He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.

"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."

It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.

Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.

“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.

She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.

He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.

“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.

Wayne turns his head back to him.

“Bout what?”

“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”

Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.

[icarusredwings]

Getting deep into the x men fandom means seeing ships I don't agree with, so I don't interact, seeing posts that mischaraterizes one of the deepest charaters possible, so I don't interact, Seeing people actively say things that are blatantly wrong, so I don't interact.

Getting a large following is also kind of frustrating (Im not complaining I love you guys!) But I've had to block 2 people already today because they keep leaving rude replies to my comments on OTHER peoples posts or purposly come to my blog to tell me that how I view a charater is wrong. Had someone tell me that the stuff that happens in MY au is dumb because "that would never happen" like yeah bud. The writers at Marvel are too much of cowards for it to happen, hence why i'm here.

So my thing is... if im chosing not to interact with all of this- why is it still on my feed?

I feel like the more I ignore it the more I see and I do not wish to be the type to block someone simply because they make one post about a ship that personally isn't my cup of tea.

Also- I think Im starting to see the different sides of extremes, especially when it comes to one specifc charater.

Logan.

I have seen dozens of lovely stories, lovely rants, lovely head canons about this man-

But something that feels weird (to me at least) is people who are 45+ yelling at people who aren't even 18 that their story/headcanons are trash because they've "been enjoying Logan for 40+ years" as if this gives them any right to tell a 17 year old that they shouldnt write a charater how they see them.

It's also weird to me that there seems to be two sides.

Logan IS an animal and that's perfectly okay.

Or

Logan ISN'T an animal, and everyone who headcanons him as animalistic is fetishizing his mutation and are insulting him.

I get not liking a certain trope, but sir, that person is young enough to be your child. You have to accept that we all grew up with different versions of each charater. I Personally didn't grow up with any and get the luxury of indulging in all sorts of media all at once- therefore getting to see him from multiple sides and pictures.

I completely understand if you grew up with the original series and are upset to see that kids are headcanoning your stone cold angst biker man as wearing bow clips and 'making biscuits' on a pillow while watching gilmore girl with his boyfriend, and wearing pink fluffy hello kitty pants and a tight shirt that says "Milk"

I completely understand if you grew up with the movies and see him as a sexy gruff hot buff man and you love to write lots and lots of steamy x reader about him.

I completely understand if you LIKE logan wearing hello kitty pants and don't agree with the idea of him being a dark edgelord, lone wolf charater.

Do you know what I don't understand? Fighting over a charater when different timelines have been canon since the 80s. The Time Variance Authority (TVA) first appeared in Thor #372 (October 1986) which means ALL of your logans are the correct logan. Just not all the same.

Do I think Wolverine Orgins Logan would wear pink hello kitty pants? Nah.

Do I know that Deadpool and wolverine Logan is a whole different universe then Orgins Logan? Yes.

That's why people tag different logans and different aus. So what is all the fuss about?? What happened to the more the merrier?

Theres so many different versions of comic book logan, too, so don't even go there.

Feel free to ask my personal opinions but as far as I stand I could never be foolish enough to seriously go into someone elses post and genuinely be upset at them for how they perceive a charater. I get second hand embaressment when ever I see ANYONE doing it.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk. I don't care if I lose followers for this. Let the door hit you on the way out. There aint no reason to be harrassing folks.

[wilwheaton]

the scorpion doesn’t care who it stings

I posted this on my Facebook four days ago, and it seems to have taken on a life of its own for a minute.

I thought I’d repost it, here:

I can not fathom the emptiness, the insecurity, the insatiable need for attention and validation, the staggering arrogance, the malevolence and total void of human experience that is Elon Musk.

He's the richest man on the planet. You can't go anywhere or do anything without interacting with something he's part of in some way. There are literal millions of people who uncritically worship him, in spite of overwhelming evidence that he's a douchebag. Some number of them will come after me, as they come after anyone who points at their naked emperor. They'll spend entire days going after me and people like me, slavishly serving a man who does not even know they exist. They are his army of fools, uncritically serving his every whim. And it still isn't enough.

He can have any material thing he wants, and he will *never* be happy or satisfied. He has no real friends. Every single person around him is either a viper, a parasite, or both.

So what does he do? He bullies and threatens and harasses and trolls and behaves like the weak, scared, insecure child he has always been. That's a tragedy for him, but it's dangerous for us. He doesn't care what he destroys or who he hurts as he chases this existential thing he cannot ever have.

You know the saying "hurt people hurt people"? He's a hurt person who is hurting our society, making people I care about less safe. The consequences of this one man's midlife crisis are global, and that terrifies me.

In a comment, about an hour later, I added:

You know what's really interesting is the tiny number of people who are attacking and harassing me are either typical right wing idiots who all spew the same garbage from behind their wraparound sunglasses, or these weird nerds who are DESPERATE to justify how toxic and cruel and destructive Elon Musk is. Like, nerds, listen to Old Man Wheaton, please. 

Don't hitch your wagon to Elon Musk. There are countless people who are amazing and genuinely good, who do all the things we wish we could do. Stop defending this piece of shit who would push you into a volcano without even learning your name, if it would save him half a second on his way to his next shitpost on $8Chan (formerly known as Twitter).He doesn't stand up to anyone. He doesn't stand up FOR anyone. He is not your champion. He's angry and chaotic and destructive, and you have to understand that the scorpion doesn't care who it stings.

Finally, I want to add two things: 1) It’s interesting to me that a lot of the people who came to my post to be dicks used a lot of MAGA language. It reminds me of this thing my friend says about concerts: the audience looks like the band. Of course there’s substantial overlap between the angry, hateful, terrified, cowards who support Trump and the same who Stan Elon Musk, and it’s real interesting to see it in action.

2) I haven’t used Twitter for years. I quit before it was popular (lol) because it was better for my mental health. I logged in once when my book was published, and I deleted all my tweets when he announced he was buying Twitter. When he took over and immediately amplified a conspiracy theorist, I made my account private. In a perfect world, I would delete my account entirely. But I have to keep it for reasons I hope I don’t have to explain. After I posted this on Facebook, it made its way around Twitter (still is, four days later, which is ... a thing that is happening) and when people went to look at my account, they saw that it was closed. As much of a fucking manbaby Elon Musk clearly is, he didn’t do anything to my account. In fact, the only reason he even knows I exist (if he does) is through a vanity search of his name. I locked my account on my own, and so should you.

I am only on:

Tumblr

Facebook (itswilwheaton)

Instagram (itswilwheaton)

and my blog that I’ve been neglecting for too long at wilwheaton.net.

I’ve had a Reddit account since 2006, predating user-created subs! I’m u/wil there.

Okay that’s all. Thanks for listening. Please choose to be kind.

[krisseratops]

I'm so. So normal. About. This. *Chewing on furniture*

Ughhh, today I spent the entire day thinking about spidervenom…!

I unfortunately have too many wips to work on anything with them now (plus, this week was full of Bad Days™ for me…), but I thought I might share a wip that has been gathering dust in my folder for a loooooong time now! The title is “5 times when Peter and Eddie didn’t kiss (and one time they held hands)” and it’s based on this idea that with the reality being rewritten so that Peter technically never married MJ (“One more day” was the name of that storyline in the comics…??) he instead has space to develop feelings toward Venom and this is a bunch of moments, mostly following the canon events, depicting their shifting relationship with each other.

Their first kiss wasn't, technically, a kiss. A tease, maybe. Definitely a joke. But a kiss...? Peter wasn't sure if he counted it (Eddie did, though). Simply speaking, he went too far with his comedy routine this time, got too caught up in his banter and mock-flirting. Laughing at the Symbiote's infatuation with him, not treating it as something serious, using it as the butt of the jokes. "You need to get over me, this is getting seriously embarrassing" and such and so on.

And obviously, the never dying "Alright, let's kiss and make up!", Once he webbed them up, after sending them crashing through a wall. It wasn’t a kiss, really. He had a mask on, after all. Venom's maw was sealed shut with the webbing as well. It wasn't a kiss.

Until it almost was, because when he leaned away, blank white eyes were wide with bewilderment, and the monster in front of him grew still and silent. He laughed awkwardly, breath tripping over his throat. "Aw, look at you getting flustered over a little smooch!", he quipped, eager to get away. Snap of a wrist and he was gone, not a single glance back left. He remembered feeling angry at Venom for making it weird and at himself, for feeling angry at all. It was stupid, almost as stupid, as feeling guilty over it.

There was no reason for telling this to MJ, right? She wouldn't want to hear about his heroic escapades anyway. Especially not if they involved Venom, even if they would be presented as a punchline, a pathetic loser, wincing in ridiculously parodied expression of disgust. Because it could have been disgust. Venom’s face was covered and their eyes weren’t exactly the most easy to read. Common sense prompted they were repulsed by the very idea of their “arch-nemesis” kissing them, even presented as a harmless joke. That’s why, there was no need to mention this to MJ. Telling her would mean agreeing with the insane thought that there was anything important to tell. And there was not. There was no reason to feel guilty.

Because this wasn’t a kiss.

There was another time, though, that could have been a kiss. Should have been, maybe. Anyway, that was what Peter thought now, looking back. It was a kiss he never got, but, at the moment, needed. Only at the moment, he would have regretted it so much afterwards. 

That’s why Eddie was glad of the absence in its place. It would have added so much more wrongness to a memory already filled with a sense of misplacement and dissonance. Because, well, they really were out of place at Peter’s flat. He knew it, and Peter knew it, and the Symbiote knew it, maybe the most painfully of either of them. But there was nowhere else they could go, they needed a shelter and an ally. And Peter wasn’t really the type of person who would close doors in the face of the wounded and vulnerable. Even if the wounded in question tried to eat him a few times in the past and was now ruining his carpet with green drool. Which didn’t mean he was going to take it without complaining a little. Or a lot.

“Great, just great, whenever I think my bad luck finally achieved its peak, it’s ‘Surprise! Think again!’,” he wailed to himself, as he helped them to the couch. “To go from sharing an apartment with the most beautiful woman a guy could ever imagine dating, to hosting a slimy monstrosity - that has to be a new record of misery reached in a week!”

“A girl has left you? That’s what you’re worrying about?” Eddie snarled at him, his anger equally fueled by the necessity of relying on their foe and the needles of jealousy bleeding through the bond. “Carnage is out there, changing this god forsaken city in his own butchershop and you cry after a girl?!”

“First of all, I wouldn't say ‘left’ is exactly the right word to describe it,” he huffed. “We needed a break, that’s all. Happens sometimes in relationships, not that you would know anything about that.”

They rolled their eyes. The very idea that Peter could have anything worth competing with a shadow of their symbiosis was vastly ridiculous.

“We don’t care about your private life, Parker”, Eddie said, as they tried to settle on the couch in a position that would do the least damage to their bruised ribs. “Only whether or not you’ll join us once we recover our strength. Why, afterward, you can return to crying your eyes out, be our guest.”

Seeing Peter from this close felt weird, especially, since he appeared to indeed cry his eyes out barely seconds ago. Something squeezed Eddie’s heart at the notion, his Other, he assumed, must have curled around it, disturbed by proximity. He wanted Peter to just leave them alone, shut up, and let them sleep. This small room will surely be uncomfortable enough even without his presence around.

“And what if I won’t?” Peter’s voice was bitter, though there was no sense of intention in it, that is, one beyond getting on Venom’s nerves. “Maybe MJ is right, maybe I should sit this one out. Have some ‘me time’. Catch up with tv series. Bake cupcakes. Maybe I don’t want to, I don’t know, have my life ruined over and over again, because some freaks decided to go on a rampage!”

Before he could react, they grabbed him by his collar, tugging close, to shoot with a look of utter resentment.

“Listen chucklehead,” a low growl vibrated through their whole torso, settling on Peter’s face like icy dew, “Joke like this once more, and we’ll eat your spleen, got it?”

Words were followed by a curse, as they grabbed on their wound, bothered by the sudden movement.

“Well, if aren’t you mister persuasive, where did you learn such diplomatic demeanor-?” Peter tried barking back, supporting himself over the couch’s back. But the last part of the sentence stumbled over his throat and ended in a whine. From the few inches that separated them, they could see the threat of tears glistening in his eyes. Before they could fall out, he ran a hand over his face, covering the glimpse of emotions with irritation. “What did you even do to yourself? Should you bandage those or something?”

That felt terribly inadequate.

All of this felt unnatural to them, all of them. Not the banter, spite and anger, of course not. But everything accompanying them was off by a mile. No masks to hide faces, no punches and jaws clenching to tear limbs. This… this was too normal, too everyday-ish, too vulnerable for both of them.

“My Other should be able to close it up overnight,” Eddie mumbled. “It looks worse than it feels. Nonetheless, we still request your assistance.”

“I know, I know…” Peter sighed, bending closer, to get a better look at his chest. “What a wonderful profession heroism is, at first it was the papers, then the common people, but now even my villains are giving me lectures…”

The moment was laced with alarm, and surprise, and wrongness, so much wrongness. They weren’t used to being this close to each other, not without a clawed hand safely locked on the neck, or webbing fastening said claws to a wall. Peter looked up and the longer they were caught in the misplacement of it all, the worse it got. Because Eddie could feel his Other flowing close to the skin, almost pushing at it, conflicted between its hatred for Peter and yearning to be closer. Because Peter could feel the warmth of Eddie’s body and he felt so painfully human at the moment, beaten up and a bit upset, with just a splinter of fear dug in the pupils.

Eddie licked his lips.

Peter swallowed down.

And he was so lonely right now, so helpless and freshly torn open, so well aware that once tomorrow he would leave to fight, because of course he would, he would return bruised and bleeding, maybe won’t return at all, and…

Peter leaned in.

Just when Eddie leaned away.

Peter went to the kitchen right after, jumping up from the couch with energetic babble about having to change his bandages and how Eddie is not allowed to touch anything and how if he catches him messing up his books then, well, Peter might not be able to eat his spleen, but he’s creative enough to come up with something else.

The moment passed and it was for the best.

After that, they didn’t really work together for a while. Well, there was that one time in the court. But aside from that, Peter and Venom mostly were on their own ways, only occasionally clashing. And then, Eddie and his Other were both on their own ways too. He didn’t really monitor what was happening to him afterward. Partly because his own life was, as usual, in shambles. Partly because seeing Eddie like that, sick and broken, stripped of the anger to hide behind…

He tried to do better and that was all that mattered, really. 

But then Anti-Venom appared. And surely enough, he was still trying. That was one thing Peter had to give to him. He also brought to mind a vision of a healing injury, with bones fused all wrong, festering. It was as if Eddie finally took a step back from one kind of madness, after which he jumped head first into one just as deep and unhealthy, just neatly tweaked here and there. 

This kiss would have been the most feverish one. As well as the one Peter was the most grateful that it never came to happen.

The whole experience screamed “fever”, honestly. Oozed illness.What made it worse, was that it did make sense for Eddie to act this way. To swing back, so hard, from one direction to another. Who else, if not Eddie, would have come up with an idea that the best course of action to convince Peter that he’s all better now, “on the side of angels” and not crazy at all, would be to kidnap him? What he didn’t expect was the talk about friendship, along with the overfamiliarity. Then again, there was always this tension between them, wasn’t it? Flirting in the background of a deadly battle.

And that was what he was doing then too. Old habits die a slow and painful death, only to be zombified back to life, don't they?

“What would you think of me, if I’d let you take my mask off on a first date?”, he quipped, to Eddie’s dismay, as he struggled to peel the cloth anywhere above his mouth.

“You act like I’m Electro or Sandman. I’m on your side now!”, he huffed.

One of his claws strayed from its place, lingering for a moment over Peter’s lips, leaving his body frozen dead.

Oh no, he wouldn’t, blinked in his head before the monster in front of him hesitantly crouched down. Orange eyes were unreadable, and yet, there was an air of uncertainty, something just a step away from… what exactly? Peter refused to pinpoint.

Before, though, he even began to figure out what in the hell he would tell Carlie, Eddie backed down.

“...I get it.” His voice, although still changed by the slime covering him, got a softer quality now, with a tingle that paired with anybody else could pass for embarrassment. “I need to earn your trust. And I will.”

Later, he thought that perhaps this time it was Eddie who really needed that particular kiss. But he couldn’t have given it to him. He just couldn’t. 

Right?

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monsters Reimagined: Kobolds

I started playing d&d during 3rd edition, which presented kobolds as a trap happy gaggle of dragon obsessives who were counted as the weakest but smartest of the traditional dungeonfodder humanoids. Other than being lizardy they were presented near identically to goblins, both being petty and cruel and resentful over their small stature and the place it meant they occupied in the world. This overlap is actually one of the reasons I haven't gotten to kobolds before now, as I kinda felt like I covered most of it in my writeup for goblins a couple years ago.

Since Kobolds are a reoccuring request however I eventually decided I was going to give the people what they wanted. My plan was to talk about d&d dragonsimp kobolds vs. warcraft candleloving kobolds vs. jrpg dogpeople kobolds, and how all of these relate back to creature's mythological origin but hey wait a minute the official forgotten realms wiki says WHAT ?

Huh, that sounds like a weird sort of projection from a man who's super insecure about his height. I wonder if the original dragon magazine listed as a source here has anything more to.. Oh.... OH-NO

Living space, huh? Extinction of weaker peoples, eh? A religion based around survival, insularity, obedience, and the defeat of stronger enemies through attrition, yadon'tsay? Man, the canine kobolds might be on to something because there's an ORCHESTRA of dogwhistles going on here.

Friends, there's a lot to unpack here, so like a kobold with a pickax lets dig in

Where it started: the connection between kobolds and goblins and gnomes predates d&d back to mythological roots, as all are names shared by the european folklore character of "weird little guy who lives under the hill and plays tricks on us". Kobolds have an even more delightful bit of etymology attached, as miners blamed them for magically transforming valuable silver for (at the time) worthless cobalt. Originally my rehash of kobalds was going to centre on them as tinkerers/engineers for this reason, as alchemical cobalt batteries sound rad as hell.

Kobolds are in this way also part of the greater traditions of "mine spirits", Knackers, tommyknockers, and the like. Who play tricks on miners, and are just as likely to cause disaster when displeased as they are to warn of it when befriended.

Then the d&d authors did what they always do, they pilfered the name of folkloric creatures for the game while ignoring actual mythology, drawing hard and fast lines and making up rigid catagories as they went.

What's wrong: Given their proclivity for traps, sneak attacks, and guerilla tactics you end up getting a LOT of comparisons between Kobolds and the Viet Cong… which I find very telling.  So many of the original d&d antagonists were vessels for middle aged geeks of the 70s and 80s to hit back at their insecurities ( whether it be challenges to their masculinity, sexuality, or something more existential) it doesn’t surprise me at all that d&d has an enemy that let american boomers rehash their nation’s at the time biggest military debacle. 

Kobolds are so weak and undeserving you understand, they’ve only survived because they’re tricky, but this time we’ll get them, if we come in with enough firepower and hirelings to get through the meatgrinder we can finally hit them where they live and deal with them for good. 

D&D worldbuilding imagines kobolds as “the other” from an occupier’s lens: resentful of their rightful displacement, nursing their hatreds in the shadows, emerging only to attack or to steal and despoil what they’ve been denied. They have no ambition, no culture, no wants beyond being a threat for the new dominant power. They’re cowards for using traps and poison and tactics on those here to plunder their homes. 

What’s worth Salvaging:  While the 3e revision of kobolds as dracomaniacs is a welcome change from their old lore I’m not especially fond of it. Overuse of dragons is one of the things that most turns me off general fantasy media. Any group of sapient creatures serving a dragon is just as likely to form a dragoncult, it doesn’t make kobolds special. 

That said, if you did want to double down on kobold dragon worship you might consider spicing in a few elements from my revamped version of Tiamat, painting their reverence not just as ego and overcompensation but as a desire to emulate and become…certian kobold enclaves possibly using sorcery or alchemy to transform a chosen among their people into a fully fledged wyrm. 

While we’ve mostly tossed alignment to the curb where it belongs,to distinguish kobolds from goblins it might be worth leaning into their lawful aspects; Underfoot foremen and notaries and  work crews addressing things with a utilitarian collective effort before scurrying out of sight when the shift change occurs.  Where as goblins are screwball and slapstick onto the verge of cartoonishness, perhaps kobolds are practical and industrious to the point of causing problems: They dam a river to access a sacred cave heedless of the disruption and flooding it’d cause, they tear down, occupying and restoring a derelict mill and restoring it to function regardless of who owns it, undermining the foundations of the duke’s palace following a vein of copper in the nearby hills. 

This efficiency-focused attitude also helps thematically define mechanically minded kobolds against gnomes and dwarves as the game’s other tinkerers:  They share the practicality of dwarven artisans and the inventiveness of gnomish artificers, but lack the sentiment the other two place on what they make.  Kobold craft is often regarded as lower quality, but that’s because resource efficiency and easy replaceability are primary metrics upon which they judge something. 

Artsource

[vhstown]

super short london slang guide !!

i haven't got a scooby doo about cockney so this is mainly gonna be mle and like the way 14 year old secondary school boys talk oookay let's go (just so yk i am a londonder!!!!!)

direct things to call people (or avoid calling people)

bruv, blud, man, mate, fam (can use in replacement of a pronoun like he, she, you and i or for emphasis — "man's got a meeting, bruv!")

more on "man" it can be used in plural too — "us man" or "them man" or "you man"

my g, my guy (for referring someone you are friendly/friends with)

bossman (something you'd call a shop or business owner — "aye bossman get me the 3 wings and chips yeah")

big man (usually used in a sarcastic friendly but kind of demeaning way, the older cousin of "big guy" — "oi big man what you sayin' cuz?"

i wasnt going to put these here cause of personal preference but 😭 people are gonna use them anyway so i might as well tell you what they mean:

peng (adjective cute/pretty — "her? she's peng!")

leng (adjective hot/sexy — "rah, he's leng you know?)

nouns

ting (usually to refer to a girlfriend but can also just mean "thing"... or a knife? — "don't chat to my ting fam!")

grim (very outdated word for a promiscuous woman — "she's a grim bruv!")

skeng (gun)

shank, spinner (knife)

paper, Ps, pronounced "peas" (money)

ends (neighbourhood, area — "if i catch you in my ends yeah")

mandem (group of friends — "having a laugh at the pub with the mandem" aha)

gyaldem (group of women / female friends)

ganja (weed)

blem (cigarette)

pagan/paigon (snitch or untrustworthy person, not a super common you might wanna use "snake" or "snitch" instead)

wasteman (someone who's useless, a lowlife)

pussio/pussyo (pussy, coward)

other common words and phrases

wagwan, or "wag1" in text (what's up, what's going on)

bare (a lot — "i got bare problems with him!")

gassed (prideful, full of yourself — "im actually so gassed, man got promoted"

"and that" (instead of "and stuff" — "i got links and that")

"allow it" (let something slide — "i forgot my wallet allow it bossman")

safe (like "alright cool", or as a bye — "aight safe")

"pattern up" (fix up, get it together)

hard, tight (cool, good, though "hard" is also used in an offensive way — "bro thinks he's hard, pussio")

blam (to get shot, not actually very common to hear in my experience)

sheffed (up), shanked (to get stabbed)

ahlie (used as an interjection when in agreement with something, similar to phrase "am i lying?")

non-mle specific words i hear sometimes

thick (dumb, stupid)

clapped/tapped (ugly, weird, unattractive)

merk/murk (kill, beat up)

slag, sket (slut)

chav (used to refer to someone of the low social status, associated with violent or rude behaviour)

taking the mick, taking the piss (being annoying)

mad (means crazy obviously but people use it a lot, can have positive and negative connotations — "that's mad!")

nonce (literally means pedophile / sex offender, do what you will with it 😭)

dickhead, bellend (similar to douchebag)

wanker (used towards someone you dislike, or in a joking way)

geezer (usually to refer to an old man)

also!!!

depending on which communities are predominant in the area, words from other languages can come in / have come in

some words are common with US slang too because they share origins 😁 ain't that cool

there's a lot of influence from jamaican patois due to the history of british jamaicans in london for ex in words like "ting" or "mandem" or "wagwan" (hence why mle is sometimes referred to as "jafrican") and its not strange to hear "bomboclaat" or "bloodclaat" here either

in communities where there's muslims and arabs (especially in east london) you might hear arabic terms like "wallahi", "khalas" or "astagfirullah" (though people debate whether that's cultural appropriation or not)

south asians have also had an influence with words like "gora" or "ganja" though again this is largely area based and the impact of hinglish is also found a lot outside of london

some people have a mix of different dialects! i mainly alternate between mle and estuary (sometimes yorkshire don't ask it is very easy to pick up...)

you're not gonna hear every single word here all the time the usage varies throughout london. the way north and west londoners speak can be v different for example

uhhhh if you wanna learn properly just listen to some grime or sutn . listen to londoners speak!

for some more resources in-depth PLEASE check out these guides made by other british people ! (one and two)

ok that's it bye bye british ppl & londoners feel free to add on! it is midnight rn so ive probably missed stuff lol... dms are open in case you've got any questions or want any help :p

[danieyells]

@2flowerz also asked for Lyca so

NOW WITH 100% MORE DOGGO LYCA. HE IS DEFINITELY A HUMAN AND NOT A WEREWOLF. He is trying very hard to be a human. I love him very much. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"...You again. Where're we going today?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you got letters. Don't you have to read them? Oh, don't you know how?"

he understands if you can't read, man. neither can he.

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"You smell sweeter than usual today... Stop. Go away."

after learning that the pc is going to turn into the anomaly that cursed them any sort of 'you smell nicer than normal' feels like such a threat lmao

"You want to touch me? Fine. Ten seconds and that's it."

that is more than enough my good sir

"When I find Neros, I wanna prove I've been getting along with humans. Then he'll definitely let me live with him."

considering he related the term 'neglect play' to what Neros did to him. . .I'm not so sure. . .and if Neros was as old as he sounds like he was, I wonder if he's even still alive. . . .

"Hey! Moth-eaten Casanova! Where'd you go? I'm gonna show you my special move today."

"special move" in Japanese is 「必殺技」 or 'lethal move'/'killer technique', usually unique to a person or fighting style. Not sure if he wants to show Ed how cool he is or try and kill him lmao--

"This phone thingy they gave me keeps making noises and making me jump... Why do I gotta carry it everywhere? It's scary!"

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Mnn... Let me sleep... Don't touch me... Zzz..."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Laws, school regulations, anomalous law... Manners, morals, rules... How're you s'posed to remember all that?"

man i wish i could tell you. . .i've mostly got the morals in order, that's basically just 'don't do harm to others' when you get down to it. laws are about 50% 'don't do things that may endanger you or others' and 50% bullshit. the rest you're kinda on your own with.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Urgh... My skin's crawling... Moon must be gettin' round soon..."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"At first I was sad 'cause I got put in a different house to Suba, but all kinds of stuff happens here every day so it was fine."

awww he was sad because he doesn't get to see Subaru as often but he's not bored so it's alright! glad he's comfortable ;u;

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"H-Hey, don't come so close! Somethin' about your scent makes my stomach feel weird!"

WE'RE ONLY ON AFFINITY 5 DUDE YOU CAN'T BE CATCHING FEELINGS THIS EARLY it's probably because he's scared of girls or something lol

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I didn't do anything wrong! Those guys were saying mean stuff about me 'cause they thought I couldn't hear. All I did was yell at them."

I hate how they won't even let Lyca defend himself verbally. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind classes. The teachers say cool stuff. Once I learn to read the textbooks and the notes and the blackboard it'll be perfect."

HE'S GONNA BE SUCH A GOOD STUDENT WHEN HE CAN READ???

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"There was this big noise in our practical class and my ears popped out. Everyone ran away screaming. Damn it..."

wow they're cowards if the ears alone scared them. . .how're they supposed to deal with anomalies if that scared them!?

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This? It's a picture book, duh. How come you don't know that when you're a human? I study with it before bed, everyone does it."

I wonder who made him a picture book of all the things he'd be learning as a first year to study with. . . . . .or maybe it's just a generic picture book lol

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"This blanket's not trash, it's just dirty. I can't sleep without it, so hands off."

he really loves that blanket huh. it must be one of the only things he had from his childhood or from being looked after by neros. . . .

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"What's a "so-shul skill"?  That blond gigolo was talking about them. He said I don't have any. Is that a good thing?"

he's got social skills!! Just. . .not very human social skills!!!

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm starving... I wanna eat Sho's food, but I can't order it without Suba... Wait, you can read, right?"

Lyca slowly realizing how many people he knows can actually read and thus can help him with placing orders for delicious foods--

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova's in his room all day so I tried to take him for a walk, but he locked his door and ignored me. The hell?!"

LYCA CONTINUES TO SCRATCH AT ED'S DOOR COME FOR WALKIES ED!!!!

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That stupid blond gigolo ran off with my blanket. I'm not done sleeping yet..."

tbf your blanket is filthy. . .and I get it, it's what you've got and it smells familiar but. . . .

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"I can't get back to sleep... I'm gonna wake up that moth-eaten Casanova for a walk."

lyca is a dog scratching at your bedroom door with his leash in his mouth like 'yes it is time for walkies now rise human'

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The teacher asked us to name an anomalous plant you can eat but when I did he said humans can't eat it. So what? I can, so I'm not wrong."

I AGREE WITH HIM HE SHOULD NOT GET THAT MARKED WRONG. if you only want a human applicable question say 'humans' not 'you.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"In the last place I never knew what time it was and I pretty much just slept all day. Now I gotta get used to having a "roo-teen.""

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm drawing. If I draw all the good stuff and bad stuff that happened every day I won't forget about it."

if he could write he'd keep a diary but since he can't write he's keeping a picture diary. . .and he's a really good artist according to his character story, so it's probably a pretty faithful recreation of whatever happened that day. i'd love to see his picture diary. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? The blood on my bed? ...It's nothing. Don't touch my stuff, you're gonna get your smell all over it!"

WHY IS THERE BLOOD IN YOUR BED, BUDDY. ARE YOU OKAY??? IF YOU ATE SOMETHING IN BED THAT'S FINE I JUST DON'T WANT YOU TO BE INJURED. . . .

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Did you cry? Your scent is all squeezy. How come?"

smelling you sad makes him sad too so tell him why you're feeling sad and he can make the sad go away?

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I wanna go to the cafeteria, but the teachers won't give me my pocket money. They said I'll get "spoiled." The hell does that mean?!"

GIVE HIM SOME MONEY SO HE CAN BUY FOOD???? HE NEEDS TO EAT????? HE'S BUSY WITH CLASS SO HE CAN'T GO ON MISSIONS YOU CAN'T JUST STARVE THE BOY????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova told me humans like it if you ignore them sometimes. Something about playing hard to get? I'm gonna try it tomorrow."

I wonder if that has anything to do with Subaru's home screen chat where he wonders why Lyca hasn't messaged him back. . .he's trying to play hard to get because he thinks it'll make Subaru like him more. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'll stay here and be quiet at night, even when the moon's not round. 'Cause you're tired, aren't you? Go sleep."

even if he doesn't have to stay or even if he wants to make lots of noise, he'll stay and be quiet so it's easier for you to fall asleep. He won't be loud and you don't have to worry about him! so sleep tight!

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Sleep here. Huh? Is there a law that says we can't sleep together? There's not, is there? Hurry up and lie down."

it's pretty much innocent. . .he just wants you close by. . .being able to smell you while he sleeps would probably make it easier to fall asleep. . .feel safe and familiar and everything. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I'm gonna work hard... I'll gonna work so hard, they're gonna say I can live with humans forever..."

Lyca, despite being a werewolf, is a lot like Kaito in that he just wants to be a normal human. Except he never started as a normal human, so he has a bit further of a distance to go to become one. . .he's not a dog, he doesn't wanna be a pet or an animal or anything like that. He wants to be a person like everyone else. But it's hard when others reject him, and when everyone says they think he's too dangerous even when he hasn't done anything wrong. Other ghouls--other humans--do way worse stuff than he does, and yet he's still held to a higher standard. It's not fair. But he's working as hard as he can to catch up. . . .

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That blond gigolo tried to wash my blanket! He's never coming in my room again!"

he does not like spring cleaning--

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Lately there's flower smells everywhere, but sometimes there's one that kinda smells like you."

IT'S GONNA BE HILARIOUS IF THE ANOMALY THAT CURSED YOU HAPPENS TO LIVE IN OBSCUARY'S FOREST. . .LIKE YEAH IT'S JUST OUT THERE IT WAS ALWAYS ON CAMPUS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU WE COULD'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CURE BEFORE YOU GOT IT.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Harurin kept nagging, so I went to the safari park. Not gonna lie...it was super fun."

I love that Lyca uses the nicknames Rui uses for some people lol and I bet he loved running around Jabberwock!!! All that fresh open air and the wildlife. . .he's a wolf at heart really and truly.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Cherry blossom petals are super fun. They're like, whoosh, then they fall everywhere. I wish our house had some."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Urgh... My head...it hurts... This? It's shaved ice. The blond gigolo told me to eat it so I don't get "heat eggs-aw-schun.""

oh buddy you're eating it too fast. . . . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I was just in that moth-eaten Casanova's room and it was so cold I thought it was gonna snow! Is he secretly a yeti?"

okay it was only 63 degrees in there it wasn't THAT cold Lyca.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm gonna go practice swimming at Harurin's place. Can you do other stuff besides doggy paddle?"

I can't swim at all so. you are miles ahead of me my friend.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I know I said I always wanted to do sparklers, but... you sure this's okay? I thought we're not s'posed to play with fire!"

canid instincts are kicking in--fire BAD and SCARY and DANGEROUS. ABORT MISSION.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I just tried to join in with some guys playing with a ball, but they said I don't know the rules and told me to go away."

THEN TEACH HIM THE RULES god they're such jerks around here.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Blond Gigolo was makin' this massive fire near the garden just now. It smelled all burnt and sweet... Is that some kinda ritual?"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Finished my picture. That Romi guy who comes to the bar all the time said he wanted one, so it's for him."

Romeo does like fine things. This just goes to show how good of an artist Lyca is! I bet Romeo's gonna frame it and put it somewhere people can see lol or maybe just keep it in his room. . .that or he wants to see if he can get him to make a forgery and profit off poor Lyca--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Moth-eaten Casanova said humans like looking at the moon... D'you get sad if you can't see it?"

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"I'm gonna go play at that big ice castle after class! Huh? 'Cause playing in the snow's fun."

THE FROSTHEIMERS BETTER NOT GIVE HIM TROUBLE LET MY BOY RUN AND ROMP IN THE SNOW!!!!!!!

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Mm, I don't really feel the cold. Humans get warm when they run around too, don't they? Race you over there! "

he is having so much fun in the winter ;;;;; just running around and playing. . . .

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My fingers have been gettin' all tingly and stiff and my hair's all crunchy! What's up with that? "

maybe playing in the snow a little too much lol--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How d'you drink hot drinks so quick? They always burn my tongue... Huh? Dogs have sensitive tongues? I'm a wolf, not a dog..."

His birthday: (April 19th)

"Oh right, it's my birthday. Neros told me my mom wrote down the date."

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday, right? No, I only know 'cause that blond gigolo was yelling about it. ...Here's your present."

I bet he drew something really nice or found you something really cool ;3;

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you have a happy and prop...props... prosp...prospinous? new year... Damn it, I practiced that for ages..."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Oh, thanks. Professor Nicolas said I can't eat chocolate, so I'll give it to Casanova and Gigolo!"

why would you even risk giving him chocolate in the first place lmao. . .also in Japanese he says "I'll share with those two idiots" instead of "casanova and gigolo" lmao

White Day: (March 14th)

"This is for you. I dunno what kinda stuff human girls like, but Suba helped me pick it, so it's prob'ly fine."

Subaru knows girls' tastes is Lyca's logic I guess lmao Subaru is a lil on the femme side comparatively--

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Why's everyone being so mean today?! Telling lies and laughing at me... They're all jerks...!"

please explain the day to him. . .people are mean enough to him as it is. . . .

Halloween: (October 31st)

"My ears and tail are out? I know, I'm doing it on purpose. The moth-eaten Casanova said it's okay today."

THE ONE DAY HE CAN BE HIMSELF IS HALLOWEEN BECAUSE NO ONE WILL THINK ANYTHING OF IT. . .they'll just think it's a cool costume or maybe a fox robe! And he'll get candy for it!!!

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Hey, look! When I got up this present was next to my pillow! Santa really came..."

WHO TAUGHT HIM ABOUT SANTA. . .AND WHY. . .then again Romeo said Santa's reindeer is real so. . .it probably isn't actually harmful to teach him about Santa since Santa's probably somewhat real here. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...I'm going for a walk."

(13 affinity and above)

"Hey, you alive? Huh, you're breathing so I guess so."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"How come you stopped coming? Do you hate me? It made my heart all squeezy, so don't do it again."

oh no sweetie. . .sometimes we just have to take care of things and disappear without wanting to. . .sometimes life gets in the way instead of finding away. . . . . . . .

JUST. . .SWEETEST OF SWEETHEARTS. HE'S SO CHILDISH AND ADORABLE AND SWEET AND GOOD. . .I WILL USE MY TEN SECONDS OF PETTING TIME WISELY. He really does try harder than anyone, he's so determined and I believe in him so much. I want my boy to be happy.

[aangarchy]

Ngl if ozai killed himself while in prison that would solve the debacle

I'm assuming you're referencing the debate on whether or not Ozai should have been killed in the finale? Because no it would not, the debate within the fandom (or at least that side of the fandom) is that Aang specifically should have killed Ozai. If Ozai killed himself, those people would still not be satisfied with this ending bc they'd still call Aang a coward.

It's just funny that these people watch a kid's cartoon that's rated PG6 and aired on Nickelodeon of all places and then expect the main character to brutally murder a man on screen.

And I know what some of you are gonna say: "tHeY ShOweD jET gEt KiLLed" no they did not, they didn't show him get hit by Long Feng, they only showed the aftermath. "AaNg PrObabLy KiLLed bEFoRe dUrINg a FigHt" yeah probably, but there is a difference between dealing out potentially lethal blows during fights for self defense and going into a fight to intentionally murder someone. There's a reason there's different charges for manslaughter and murder guys. Aang potentially killing people during fights for self defense would be manslaughter, but killing Ozai would have been murder.

For all of the people with this opinion: maybe look inward a bit and think good and hard about why you want to see a 12yr old child turn into a murderer on screen. Or why you want to see that type of violence in a kid's show. Genuinely it's weird.

[hp-hcs]

mattheo with sick! reader? idk something fluffy about mattheo taking care reader or angsty about reader trying to hide some sorta sickness or maybe mattheo's the sick one you ask for mattheo I shall deliver - yxdls

‼️WARNING: hella gross‼️ like, it goes into genuinely nauseating detail! i’m in a weird mood right now! i don’t know!

fine (chapter one of phoenix tears) — ex-death eater! injured! mattheo riddle x gn! reader

GRAPHIC GORE WARNING

seriously, don’t read if you’re easily grossed out. or eating. actually, just don’t read this at all. it’s pretty poorly written. i’m so sorry yxdls, for whatever this is 😭

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“…and for which scenario would each of the following listed Charms work bes-”

Mattheo was cut off by another of his loud coughing bouts, hacking into his elbow.

Your brow furrowed. “Baby, that’s like, the seventh time you’ve coughed in the last five minutes. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He waved a hand in your direction. “I’m fine. Just a little cough.”

You set down your flashcards, leaning across your bed to lay the back of your hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up, baby.”

“So you think I’m hot?” He asks with a cheeky grin, waggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes and lightly smack his arm with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Yes, you idiot. But you also have a helluva fever.”

He grimaced. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

~~~

It was, in fact, Not Fine™. It looked horrible. The skin was sunken in, to a worryingly deep degree, and the edges were blistered and raw, slowly leaking pus and refusing to scab over. Mattheo grimaced as he peeled off the old bandages, biting his bottom lip to keep from screaming when the gauze got caught on part of the torn edge. He was forced to look away as he hastily rewrapped his forearm, trying desperately not to vomit.

The minute he had deserted his father, his Dark Mark had begun to burn, to brand itself into his flesh. The tattoo sank deep into his skin, into his muscles, and into his tendons; Mattheo was convinced that at this point, it was entirely carved into the bone.

It would never go away.

The skin over the tattoo had first erupted with bright red blisters and a sickening rash, which sent Mattheo into a feverish daze for two days. Despite his friends’ protests, he refused to go to the hospital wing.

Nobody could see the Mark. They’d know. They’d know he had been a coward and a fool.

But then, his skin had begun to rot. It was unsettling. Not to mention that the Mark wriggled still, now more furiously than it ever had when he’d been a follower of his father. Combined with the state of his arm, the odd frantic movements of the tattoo felt like phantom maggots, crawling all over him, crawling under his skin, into his eyes, his mouth, Merlin-

~~~

“Riddle, man, you good?” Theodore nudged him and spoke quietly.

Mattheo startled, his eyes flying open from where he had begun to drift off standing up.

Sleep had become impossible. His arm was now constantly afflicted with burning, never-ending pain. Occasionally, random bursts of an even sharper agony would grate up his bones and make his teeth rattle. It felt like being Crucioed, but with no forewarning, no nothing.

“Mattheo!”

He startled again, not even aware that he’d started falling asleep again.

Theo put his hand on Mattheo’s shoulder, even just that small touch sending stomach-churning zaps of fresh pain down his arm. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so.

Theo glanced around the room, waiting for the Herbology professor to turn her back before talking to Mattheo again.

“Dude, you seriously look like you’re about to keel over any second. You should go to the infirmary.”

“‘m fine,” Mattheo rubbed his eyes, his words slurred with feverish delirium. “Don’ need’a go anywhere.”

“Matty, dude, you look like a dead man walking.”

He opened his mouth to protest, when the worst pain he’d ever felt in his entire life struck him out of nowhere. It felt like what Mattheo imagined being beat with a baseball bat, run over by a semi-truck, and being Crucioed at the same time would feel like.

He dropped like a rock, the unrelenting pain forcing the edges of his vision to darken and then fully go black.

~~~ Mattheo woke up to quiet.

His eyes slowly creaked open, and he was greeted with unfamiliar white walls. He blinked quickly to rid the sleep from his eyes, before surveying the room.

It didn’t look like the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but it was definitely a place of medicine, if the bleach-heavy air was anything to go by. Maybe St. Mungo’s?

The overhead lights were off, thank Merlin, leaving the room lit only by the overcast afternoon sky peeking through the window.

But he started to panic when he saw that his arm lay across his chest, freshly wrapped and sore as all hell.

Someone saw.

Somebody saw the Mark of his cowardice.

Of his yearning for his father’s approval.

Fat tears started to roll down Mattheo’s cheeks. His sobs became louder when he saw that you were there.

You probably knew. You probably saw.

Merlin damn it. Why wasn’t there a magical version of HIPAA?

You’d pulled up the visiting chair all the way to the side of Mattheo’s hospital bed, your crossed arms lying on top of the mattress, and your head resting on your arms as a sort of makeshift pillow.

At least you were asleep. Mattheo couldn’t even fathom what he’d have done if you’d been awake.

You surely must hate him now.

How couldn’t you?

He started to raise his right arm, his only currently working one, to wipe away his tears, but the movement was held back.

He had the fleeting but terrifying thought of those cliché leather restraints on hospital beds in horror movies. Honestly, it wasn’t even that far-fetched. He was a criminal. A traitor. A psycho.

Mattheo looked down, expecting the worst.

Instead, he saw your fingers interlaced with his, your thumb slowly skating over his knuckles in a soothing back and forth pattern.

You were holding his hand. Asleep still, yes, but you were actively holding his hand. You were choosing to be near him.

Mattheo burst into tears again, but this time in relief.

If you were still by his side, despite everything, then maybe things really were fine.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter two

[freelancearsonist]

el chico del apartamento 512

➔ Frankie Morales x gn!Reader - 1.6k

➔ There's a rumor going around your building about the resident of apartment 512, and you're eager to investigate.

➔ Rated PG-13 for allusions to sex but otherwise just some plain old fluff and fun. post movie canon wife and kid erasure sorry, takes place in colombia, both reader and frankie speak spanish and everything is translated.

➔ this is my entry for the Selena Drabble Challenge hosted by mi esposa @fhatbhabie <3 sorry i've been sitting on this forever hehe but i hope you enjoy

Frankie barely manages to pull himself out of the slump he’s in for the first year or so after the absolute disaster in the Andes.

He misses his family, misses his friends, misses his crew–his brothers. He tries to convince himself that it’s for the best, that it’s only a matter of time before those assholes who were in cahoots with Lorea come after him–that the people he loves will be safer and happier if he’s not around them when it happens. And most of the time he can block all that sadness and pain out by throwing his whole mind and body into the earnest construction job he picks up in this new town within this new country. But it catches up to him late at night in dreams and quiet whispers of intrusive thoughts; that he’s a coward for abandoning the ones that needed him most, that he could’ve done more to make that damned mission less of a disaster. That he could’ve come out of it rich and happy if he wasn’t such a fuck-up.

He wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, an ache so deep in his chest that it feels like he’s been shot. He clutches at his sternum and tries to catch his breath but he can’t. His body wracks with sobs and he knows he’ll never be okay again.

But somehow, he ends up okay anyway. Somehow, he falls back to sleep just to repeat the cycle the next day.

There’s a rumor going around amongst your neighbors that apartment 512 is haunted.

People hear things–weird things. Screaming, crying, banging–and always at the dead of night. And everyone swears up and down that they’ve never seen the guy who supposedly lives there. The people who say they have seen him get more dramatic with their descriptions every time–toweringly tall, shoulders that could stand up to a wrecking ball, hauntingly sad eyes and gaunt face. It’s like he’s a thing of legend–a story they tell their kids to make sure they behave. “Don’t run in the halls or the guy from apartment 512 will get you.”

You figure he’s probably just some guy who works long hours and likes to watch horror movies to unwind or something–not a monster or a ghost, just misunderstood. You haven’t seen the guy yourself, but you kinda like him anyway. The building’s certainly been a lot quieter since he moved in… well, everywhere except his own apartment, at least. 

You find yourself keeping a more vigilant eye out, alert to any face in the building that doesn’t look familiar. It seems kinda silly to want to see someone you don’t know, but you’re a little nosy and a little more than curious. If there’s some truth to the rumors that have been going around by the people who claim to have seen him, you want to find out for yourself.

It’s a completely ordinary night when you notice an unfamiliar face in the mailroom, and you have to do a double take. This stranger is handsome–tall and dark with shaggy brown hair and an even shaggier patch of stubble across his jaw.

He’s just standing there, staring blankly at a row of mailboxes, looking so… foreboding. You approach slowly, cautiously; part of you thinks you should just walk away and let this man do whatever he’s doing. But there’s a large, louder part of you that approaches with curiosity. There’s just something about him that draws you in, that makes you put on your best smile and ask, “Señor? Necesitas ayuda?” (Do you need help, sir?)

He blinks slowly, heavily, and then dark brown eyes flicker towards you.

“Oh!” He clears his throat and it’s like he’s coming back from an out of body experience–the color returns to his face, his eyes lose that glassy sheen, and his posture loosens a bit. He looks friendly now, sheepish even. He wrings his big hands and shifts on his feet, as if he’s been caught at a vulnerable moment. “Lo siento, estaba en la nube.” (Sorry, I was spacing out.)

“Está bien,” you tell him with your most disarming smile. “Andas buscando algo?” (It’s okay. / Are you looking for something?)

“No, solo estoy recopilando mi correo,” he rumbles before flashing you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen in your life. (No, I’m just getting my mail.)

He fishes through his pockets and finds a small silver key–and then he inserts it into the box labeled “512”.

“Tú vives en el apartamento 512?” There’s a strange air of reverence in your voice despite trying to hide it. This is the guy everyone’s been talking about, and he doesn’t seem nearly as monstrous as everyone tried to make him sound. (You live in apartment 512?)

“Uhhh… sí?” He chuckles and looks over to you, and you can see the way his brow furrows at the look of shocked surprise on your face.

You realize you’re actually gaping open-mouthed at the poor guy, and you snap your mouth closed as soon as you see the little crease between his brows deepen. Not soon enough for it to go unnoticed, though–the corner of his mouth flickers up in a pseudo-smirk, and god he’s handsome.

“No hemos tenido la oportunidad de conocernos aún.” You look up at him and give your best, winning smile as you give him your name. There’s a strange, fluttery feeling in your stomach as his dark eyes meet yours–have you mentioned how handsome he is? (We haven’t had the chance to meet yet.)

“Mucho gusto,” he says with a smile. “Soy Frankie. Supongo que vives en el edificio también?” (Nice to meet you. / I’m Frankie. I’m guessing you live in the building too?)

“Oh, sí,” you say with a slight laugh. “No soy ningún tipo de acosador, vivo en el apartamento 526.” (Oh, yes. / I promise I’m not some kind of creep, I live in apartment 526.)

And then you catch his eyes dragging along your form, not even the least bit subtle, and you try your best to be nonchalant about the way you have to lean against the wall to avoid melting into a puddle on the mailroom floor; especially when you see those full lips of his curve into a smile, and you know he’s liking what he’s seeing.

“Nah, no creo que seas un acosador,” he hums–and there’s that damned smirk again. If you don’t get out of here you’re going to start drooling. (I don’t think you’re a creep.)

He grabs two letters from his mailbox, examines the envelopes, and then unceremoniously dumps them both into the trashcan in the corner with a mumbled, “Malditas estafas por correo.” (Damn junk mail.)

“Eso es lo único que recibo ahora también,” you tell him sympathetically. (That’s all I get anymore too.)

He brushes past you slightly as he moves to the door, and you get a whiff of distinctly woody cologne that makes your heart pick up a beat. You try to act normal and go to open your own mailbox, but he stops in the narrow doorway and leans against the jam to look at you.

“Te volveremos a ver aquí?” (Will I see you around again?)

You think the rumors about him were right, at least a little bit. He’s towering and imposing–he fills the entire doorway with ease. He’s firm and broad and sturdy and big. Maybe he would be intimidating to someone else, but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.

“Sí. Puedes verme cuando tú quieras.” (You can see me whenever you want to.)

His eyes flicker indecisively for a moment, and then he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Qué tal viernes por la noche?” (What about Friday night?)

You try not to focus on how you want him to bite into you like that as you tell him, “Sí, eso sería perfecto.” (Yes, that would be perfect.)

“Perfecto. Te veré luego.” And then he flashes you that damned adorable boyish smile again before he retreats from the mailroom. You think he’s going to be trouble for you. (Perfect. I’ll see you then.)

The monthly building meeting is Saturday morning, and you’re glad to see Frankie’s decided to join in finally. Everyone throws curious looks his way as he walks through the room towards where you’re seated, but no one is curious or brave enough to ask who he is.

“Buenos días, querida,” he murmurs, discreetly ghosting a kiss against your cheek as he drops into the seat beside yours. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as they trail over your outfit: the same one you wore to dinner last night, the same one you picked up off his bedroom floor this morning and shoved on hastily to get to this meeting in time. (Good morning, dear.)

Before you get a chance to respond, your neighbor from across the hall plunks down in the seat on your other side.

“Escuchaste ese ruido anoche?” She asks, sounding more amused than annoyed. (Did you hear that noise last night?)

“Qué ruido?” You ask with a raised brow. (What noise?)

She smirks with satisfaction, like she knows something you don’t. And then she looks pointedly between you and Frankie. “Suena como si nuestro fantasma en el apartamento 512 hubiera conseguido un socio para él.” (It sounds like our ghost in apartment 512 got himself a partner.)

You nearly choke on your own tongue, but Frankie just chuckles raspily and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He learned all about the rumors from you last night over dinner, and he thinks they’re hilarious. Besides, they’ll die out soon enough anyway–he’s never slept quite as peacefully as he did last night in your arms–if he doesn’t feed them a little bit. And if feeding the rumors means keeping you moaning and groaning the way he did last night, he can’t say he minds it one bit.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'till you make it | Part 2

Steve went on his own. Dustin tried to call shotgun, tried saying he’d back Steve up cause his friend could be ‘jumpy’, but no. Steve had to do this on his own, because Dustin didn’t know. He could have told the little shrimp, he really could have, so far he’d come out to three people, and it’d gone surprisingly well, Robin not so surprising but his parents?

Damn. He’d have put his entire life savings on that going the other way.

The risk with Dustin, however, was his mother. Don’t get him wrong, Claudia was lovely, she always had a spot saved for him at the dinner table when his parents weren’t in town, she always greeted him with warmth and kindness, he didn’t have a single complaint about Claudia Henderson. He also unfortunately had no idea how she’d take a coming out if Dustin let it slip. The kid was talkative.

He couldn’t imagine no longer being able to see Dustin because his mother found out he wasn’t as straight as everyone thought. Couldn’t imagine the truth of life in a small rural ‘god fearing’ town, thrown in his face so cruelly, that people were small minded and based all their opinions on what everyone else was doing.

Especially when everyone else seemed to be following the bullshit the Church spewed.

Dustin would be safe, he trusted Dustin. But he simply couldn’t risk how talkative he was.

So he went on his own. Robin was working, he couldn’t kidnap Robin, Keith would kill them. Or at the very least dock their pay a little and glower. This, unfortunately, created one little problem that quickly presented itself when Steve found himself sat at a visible booth at Benny’s watching for anyone entering that door.

He didn’t know who Dustin’s ‘friend’ was, and Dustin’s friend didn’t know who he was, because Dustin had so wisely decided to not reveal that titbit of information over the phone.

All he knew, was that this friend was a guy and that he’d probably be there soon. So, disaster in the making, basically. He’d been there for five minutes, it’d been ten since the phone call, and so far three men had walked in.

All of them old older, it was early, Benny did early bird specials for the older folks in Hawkins, but he still looked up every time the door opened, looking for someone who might not belong, someone who stood out from the oldies, someone who—

Holy shit. Steve immediately ducked his head. Eddie Goddamn Munson. Eddie Munson in all his leather, chains, and curly haired glory walked in with his head on a swivel, eyes scanning the diner for someone who looked out of place, someone who’s identity he also wasn’t aware of. Steve could ditch.

He could ditch without hesitation, Eddie knew him, Steve could get the hell out of dodge, take the back door, and just run for the hills, suffer the inevitable cringe fest that was going to be the week away, take it like a champ. Maybe get a brief fling with someone he would never want to settle down with, or…

He peeked through his arms, Eddie was still looking, he was checking his watch, a little frown on his brow, what were the odds, honestly, that it was Eddie?

Knowing Dustin and his stupid DnD game? Pretty fuckin high that’s what the odds were. Eddie lived for that shit, it was a direct connection. He was going to kill that little snot. Maybe… if it didn’t work out. Because he wasn’t going to be a coward.

He was going to face his uncertainties like a badass. He was going to rise from his seat, and cross the very short distance, aaaand “Hey Munson, that you?” Be totally cool, completely ignore Benny’s curious eyes from behind his little judgement window, the window where he stood in the safety of his kitchen judging everyone who dared be weird in his diner.

“Not today Buckaroo, I’m busy” oh yeah he looked super busy.

“Cool, cool, super cool, you… come for the early bird specials often then?” Ohhhh he’d perfected the deadpan stare. He had that shit down. How did eyes that pretty so cut so deep? “Heh, sorry, look man I—I don’t mean any trouble, I was just—”

“M’not carrying shit, Harrington, the hell you want with that stuff this early anyway?” Stuff? Steve frowned a little, before visibly realising what Eddie was getting at, it looked like a genuine lightbulb went off behind his eyes. He knew because that little frown was broken by Eddie raising one eyebrow in curiosity.

“That’s not what I—shit, okay. Do over. Do you know Dustin? Dustin Henderson? Lil guy, bout yay high, curly hair, ridiculous meddler, no collar bones?” The frown was back, accompanied by the squinty eyes of suspicion. He knew Dustin, he had to know Dustin, it had to be Eddie, it had to be, nobody else had come in!

“I know the little shrimp, yeah, one of my little lost sheep, how do you know Dustin?” Holy shit it had to be him. Why else would the notoriously tardy Eddie Munson be up that early on a Sunday?

“Babysitting.” Eddie’s ever so expressive face seemed to slacken in surprise, Steve didn’t give him a chance to ask further as to why a rich guy like him had to babysit. He did it for free, he liked the little fuckers, explanation unnecessary. “You uh… wouldn’t happen to have uhm… gotten a call from him… about twenty minutes ago, would you?”

It took Eddie a minute. A little frown here, a squint there, a slight tilt of his body as he looked Steve up and down, not in a ‘you’re so hot oh my god’ way more in a ‘what the actual fuck’ kind of way.

Steve felt seen in the worst possible way, wanted to abort mission, just run away, that was a judgy bitch stare and he knew it, he’d COINED that stare, he was the master of it, and suddenly it was on him and he felt smaller than Dustin back in ‘83 with his baby squishy cheeks, and then— “Nope.” Eddie turned on his heel, ringed fingers waving in refusal, “nope, nope, nope—"

Steve should have let him go. Should have just chalked it up to Dustin having the worst friends ever outside of himself, Lucas, Will, Max, Jane, and maybe Mike. Maybe. On a semi-good day cause full good days didn’t exist with Mike.

But instead he was grabbing Eddie’s elbow and babbling “Wait-wait-wait, oh my god Eddie, please just wait, please” like some kind of moron. “You did right? It’s you?”

Eddie looked back and down at his own elbow, brows drawn tight in a frown, Steve let him go. Not out of fear just… slight intimidation. Eddie was scrappy! He was a biter and Steve didn’t wanna have to get a rabies shot.

“Fine, yeah I got a call, would have told him to shove his job up his ass if he’d have told me who it was for though, Steve.” Oof.

“Fair, that’s fair, can you just… maybe sit down and let me explain though? I’ll buy you breakfast!” Benny’s eyes hadn’t moved from them for the entire interaction, and he was feeling rightfully judged by it. Rich boy causing all that fuss and not one order of food. The audacity.

“Hmph, fine, but only because I haven’t had breakfast yet.” He pushed past Steve just to walk to the counter “Hey Benny! Can I get a full stack of pancakes and a hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows? On his tab.” Eddie motioned to Steve over his shoulder with his thumb

“Sure thing, kid. An what do you want, Harrington?”

“Uh… breakfast bagel, eggs sunny side up with a uh… another coffee please.” He’d already had breakfast, but he was a big dude! And Dustin always claimed Second Breakfast was like… an acceptable thing. “Thanks Benny” the tank of a man nodded his head and got to cooking without further word. “I was uh, sat over here” Steve motioned to the booth he’d been in, which Eddie seemed to mull over for a moment, before deciding he was going to sit in a completely different booth. “Alright.”

Power move. Steve could respect that. He sat down opposite him. “Talk, Harrington.”

“You… don’t wanna eat first?”

“I’m not sittin here in awkward silence with the King of Hawkins High, waiting for food when I could be hearing the details, eating, then bailing. The longer I’m here with you the more chance some asshole has of seeing me here with you. Now speak.” Ouch… but again, fair.

He’d been a shit in high school, older students had not gotten a free pass from it either. He was trying now though! Trying to be better. Robin helped, but she also fuelled his bitchy side way more than Carol and Tommy ever did. The kids helped the most, they humbled him. Brainy little fuckers.

“Right… okay. So. My parents have gotten it into their minds that I should be in some kind of long term relationship by now, so they’ve been throwing people at me, constantly, people I wouldn’t date even if you paid me to date them. There’s this thing coming up, a week away with them in a chalet, an I’m positive they’re going to bring someone to try and set me up with them, I’m certain of it, an I’d be stuck with this person for a whole damn week suffering.” It was an actual real fear, he couldn’t handle that, he’d simply evaporate, he’d perish, he’d spontaneously pop out of existence, poof, bye. “So… the job is basically to come with and pretend like we’re dating so they get off my back.”

“I think you’re missing a very important detail here, Steve.” Eddie tilted his head to the left, his smile almost cruel, Steve chose to ignore it. Eddie had his right to be defensive. “I’m a guy”

“Not important at all. They’ve been throwing men at me too.” Thank god Eddie wasn’t drinking anything because it’d have been all over the table.

He damn near choked on his own saliva, choking out a shocked “W-What?”

“I’m… I’m—” He looked around him, at the old people enjoying their meals, at Benny inconspicuously cooking behind his judgement window, risking glances through the open space every now and then to make sure his patrons weren’t causing shit or trying to dine and ditch. Old people were slow, but they could be crafty. Only when he was certain that nobody was listening, did he take a breath and let out “I’m… bi. Bisexual. And they know. But instead of being all ‘aaaaah get out of my hooouse’ they’re just… throwing guys at me instead, it’s torture. Painfully awkward torture I feel like I’m going to cringe myself to death.”

“You’re…”

“I know, I know, haha King Steve, secretly a freak of nature, a queer hiding in plain sight.” He’d heard the hatred spat at people like him, he’d been one of the people spitting hate once upon a time, before he’d grown, before he’d learned. Before he’d understood himself. It was terrifying, knowing how awful it could be if it got out “please don’t tell anyone okay? I’m… I’m putting a lot of faith in you here and that’s terrifying… I just… Dustin vouches for you… an I know you have every right to get back at me for Highschool but—”

“N-no… no I—I wouldn’t… I’d never. That’s… shit, Harrington, no… highschool shit? That shit is in a whole different category, I’ll get you back for that in some way but… not like that… never like that." He could breathe easily, even if Eddie vowed to get him back some other way, it wouldnt be that way. "So… what do you want me to do, freak em out? Go nuts? Sacrifice a chicken in the lounge? Shout a hail Satan prayer in the attic? Usually that does the trick to get parents to stop trying to set their kids up, more often than not gets em banned from dating entirely, give you a break—”

“W-What? No… no I—listen, my parents don’t stick around for long after these holidays, they’re usually gone within a couple of weeks on some business trip, dads off trying to restructure the company values or some shit to include people like me, which is cool cause he didn’t even know about me when he started that I—I didn’t know he was doing that… but that takes time, an mom’s going with him cause she doesn’t trust him to work out the legal shit on his own.” Benny chose that moment to venture to their table to place two mugs down on the surface, then silently returned to his task of plating food “I need to convince them that we’re dating… for real, and have them go off on their own believing that we’re still dating so they leave me alone… at least until they come back in god only knows how many months’ time and I can tell them we split up. Is… is that something you can do?”

Eddie took a long sip of his hot chocolate, a little splodge of cream lingering on the tip of his nose when he put the mug down that Steve almost reached over to wipe away, almost, so close. “…Usually I’m more of a freak em out kind of date, a one night done send em running for the hills kind of thing, you’re saying this is a week?” Eddie wiped his own nose clean, stuck the finger in his mouth. Steve chose to focus on his own mug.

“Mmhm, in a chalet in Canada for a week, all paid for, it’s basically a free holiday… that I’ll pay you for, whatever your usual rate is for this kind of thing, I’ll even double it… I just… I’m really hoping you say yes.”

Plates were finally delivered to the table by Benny with a friendly “eat up, boys” said in passing. Eddie drizzled syrup on his stack, then cut into it and shoved a whole layered chunk into his mouth in silence, clearly processing everything.

He chewed in silent thought, weighing the pros, the cons, the potential cash haul from such a job… the shit he might have to do… the lines they might have to cross, the revelations Steve might have about him… then remembered Steve claiming to be Bisexual and realising that part might not be all that scary.

What a wild Sunday.

“Alright…” he finally answered after swallowing his bite. “It’s fifty bucks a date though, Harrington, if I’m generous an switch that to a night to accomodate such a batshit scheme, doubled like you said is a hundred bucks per night, that’s—”

“Money’s not an issue.” Not for a Harrington. Even if he worked minimum wage, he’d get that money somehow.

“Well shit… Alright then, big guy. I guess i’m hired.”

Part 4

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

the attack on titan characters and vaping

modern au

a/n: most of this is according to my fanfic :)

eren jaeger is sooo clutching a cool mint disposable vape. it’s always in his pocket. he’s the accusatory type when he loses it, always claiming someone has it but in reality he’s just sitting on it. swears he’s not addicted but runs to get another one when it dies.

armin arlert is too cool to vape or smoke cigarettes. he does use a dab pen because of the convenience and how it doesn’t leave a smell. he occasionally lectures eren on his use but knows it’s a useless battle.

mikasa ackerman goes through different phases. she’ll vape for a long time, and then quit, and then start again. her flavor of choice is anything cherry flavored. she knows it’s bad for her so she tries to stop but since eren does it, she always falls back into the habit.

connie springer wishes he could vape. he just can’t get into it. it’s too harsh for his throat and it leaves him a coughing mess. if anything, he’ll have a shitty box mod with very low levels of nicotine. he just likes to call himself a vape god when he does very mediocre tricks.

jean kirstein thinks vaping is incredibly stupid. he tried it once and was immediately put off by it. he smokes cigarettes like a ‘real man.’ i wouldn’t call him a smoker smoker, but maybe he smokes one or two a day. he plans to quit.

sasha braus neither vapes nor smokes habitually. she tried to hit eren’s vape once and it burned her throat so bad her eyes watered and she couldn’t stop coughing. however, when she gets really, really drunk, she’ll be found having a drunk cigarette.

marco bodt has never touched a vape or a cigarette. he sees how easily his friends became addicted and honestly, he doesn’t want that for himself. he hates when jean smokes.

reiner braun doesn’t vape. he doesn’t smoke, either. he’s a big gym bro and takes his health pretty seriously. his body is a temple and he treats it as such. he also makes a big deal when someone smokes near him.

bertholdt hoover hits the occasional vape if he’s with his friends but he’s never bought one for himself. he’s not addicted either so he only hits it if he’s offered. he enjoys the head buzz but knows starting a serious habit wouldn’t be good for him.

annie leonhardt smoked cigarettes first and then tried to get into vaping. she decided it wasn’t for her and switched back to cigarettes. she thinks if you’re going to vape, you might as well just smoke. it’s more romantic, she thinks. she’s tried to calm it down since dating armin, though.

hange zoe insists that she vapes but she never has one of her own. she also coughs up a storm when she hits anyone else’s.

levi ackerman wouldn’t be caught dead vaping. he thinks it’s stupid and it’s for kids who are too much of a coward to smoke a real cigarette. he doesn’t smoke cigarettes either but he’s tried them before in the past. he might have one if he’s really, really stressed but he tries not to indulge.

erwin smith doesn’t like smoking. he doesn’t like when it’s done around him, either. he’s kind of uptight about it and no one’s really sure why.

zeke jaeger vapes. he totally would be the type to have a necklace to attach to it so he’d never lose it. he spends an unreasonable amount of time in the vape shop looking at all the flavors. i feel like he’d also have a fancy vape, like something with a weird fancy mouth piece.

ymir’s been sneaking cigs for years. obviously,she’s old enough now and the habit of smoking has stuck. she has a pack on her all the time. she’ll vape here and there if it’s presented but she’s a classic girl and prefers her cigarettes.

historia reiss doesn’t vape. she says she doesn’t smoke either but she partakes in it from time to time. usually when she starts ranting on about something, ymir will hand her a cigarette and hit it without really realizing it. it makes ymir laugh everytime.

porco galliard is a vaper. he loves his lil vape. he ‘accidentally’ got addicted after pieck made him try it. he also swears he doesn’t have a problem but he does!!

pieck finger has a fruity little girl vape. it’s definitely pink lemonade flavored. i feel like she’s always got in her hand and she’s also always offering it to people. she’s like a god damn chimney when she drinks, always puffing it.

my jean fanfic