#but apparently he stole it from twitter anyway

[p1nkcanoe]

kinktober day two: audience (phantom x everyone)

kinktober prompt list provided by planetcoma on twitter!

summary: phantom is excited for tonight's movie night, though the "cool new film" ends up being something far more intimate and way too personal warnings: embarrassment, sextapes words: 1235

click here to read on ao3 or read below:

Phantom was told that tonight was movie night. 

He’d received simple instructions from Cirrus around lunchtime, and ones he didn’t even need to be reminded of: dress down in his comfiest pajamas, bring snacks to share, don’t hog the couch again… Simple things, really. And when he’d asked about which movie they’d be watching between bites of cheesy grilled chicken, he had simply been told that it was some “cool new film” that everyone had been raving about, and that had apparently been enough information to satisfy him. 

Phantom loves movies – they quickly became one of his favorite hobbies after being summoned Topside, and he loves the way that his whole pack crams into the common room to transform it into a warm, cozy nest of blankets and pillows for the occasion. He relishes the comforting weight of a ghoulette against his back to protect him during scary movies (even if it’s not even that scary *wink wink*) and the way Aether can never seem to contain his giggles during the most mediocre comedies. Sure, he could probably go without the tearjerker rom-coms that Mountain always sobs through, but even those are tolerable if it means he can cuddle up with Swiss on the floor and steal a few kisses when no one’s looking. So, when Cirrus informed him about movie night tonight, Phantom didn’t think twice about how vague she might’ve been when he’d asked for a little more information. It was Rain’s turn this month to pick the movie, anyways, and that almost always guaranteed something good. 

Phantom plopped down between Cirrus and Aurora on the couch, a bag of skittles in hand and cozy Batman pajamas on, feeling a blissful wave of contentment pass through him as he watched the last of his packmates settle into their spots. Mountain and Rain stole the loveseat, the water ghoul in the earth ghoul’s lap and Dew on the floor leaning against the big guy’s legs. Aether was on the floor, as per usual. Swiss had settled down at his side to steal what looked like last night’s leftover pizza. He looked over to Aurora at his side and the ghoulette gave him a toothy smile, resting her head on his shoulder and curling herself comfortably around his arm. Someone tossed the remote to Rain and he caught the thing, fingers ghosting over the buttons to press ‘play.’ 

But when the screen flickered on and shapes began to move, excitement quickly turned to confusion, then to sheer horror. This wasn’t the opening scene of a “cool new film” like Cirrus had promised – it was something far, far worse. The face on the screen was his own. His body. His voice. His stomach dropped to the floor in an instant, his heart pounding in his ears as what appeared to be his sextape began to play full-screen on the common room tv. The poor Quint didn’t even know he had a sextape… 

It was him, without a doubt – descending onto Swiss’s cock with a little too much amateur eagerness. His flushed face, his wide, mismatched eyes, his moans – it was all right there for everyone to see. The sounds of his own gagging echoed around the room through the expensive surround-sound speakers, reverberating off the walls like an echo chamber, and Phantom cringed, desperately wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. (He also wished he had a baseball bat – a baseball bat could certainly be an easy solution to this.)

His ears burned as the embarrassment deepened with every second, getting hotter and hotter and spreading towards his chest when Dew decides to chime in and remind everyone that “he always does that!” when he makes a terrible noise and begins to sputter. The fire ghoul cackled, throwing salt into an already gaping wound, and Phantom squeezed his eyes shut, mortified beyond belief as the version of himself on the screen tries again to suck Swiss to the balls. The second time he chokes is far worse than the first… 

But then the screen flickers and suddenly he’s looking at his own back and his poor hole as he gets pounded from behind. And that’s no longer Swiss’ cock he’s looking at. He spies a birthmark on the front of a thigh; it’s Aether. 

“He squeezed me so tight right here,” Aether points out from the floor, and Phantom watches in horror as the older Quint on the tv begins to pull out slowly and Phantom’s hole visibly tightens around him with every inch. His mewls melt from the speakers and sound like filthy porn and Aether hums from behind the camera, zooming in on the mess his cock made inside of him. Yeah, that’s his ruined hole on the tv… The current Aether looks up at him and pats his knee. “You were real good for me that night, Ant.” 

Phantom doesn’t have the words to answer him as the film flickers again. 

He recognizes Cumulus’ ruby red nails in his hair next, and Dew’s hands in his hole in another, and then there’s Rain sucking his dick from what clearly is a hidden angle, and– yeah, that’s obviously Mountain’s dick pressed up against his tear-covered cheek, and is that Aurora’s glittery manicure at the edge of the frame? Phantom looks down at the hand curled around his bicep and there are those same glittery claws… How had he never noticed the camera during any of these times? Had he really been so out of his mind that he’d failed to notice an iPhone being shoved into his face? And Satan Below, did he just look directly into the camera? 

Phantom is forced to watch in horror as his past self gets fucked and sucked and pleasured into oblivion all while his packmates watch in pure, shameless delight. 

“I love when he does that,” Rain purrs when Phantom shoves four slick-covered digits into his mouth. 

“Me too,” Dew agrees and Phantom begins to sink down into the cushions. 

The version of himself on the screen begins to yell with the force of Swiss pounding into him while he’s tangled up in Cirrus’ sex chair. That was supposed to be a secret – they weren’t supposed to touch that, but I guess the secret’s all out now. He feels Cirrus’ eyes on him. He can’t make himself look. 

His cock is stuck in an odd in-between state of wanting to harden up in his pajamas yet being paralyzed with mortification, and he squeezes his legs together, trapping his dick between them in a painful squeeze. There’s boners all around him, everywhere he looks, whether that may be the screen or his packmates on the floor, on the couches… Cumulus’ hand is on his thigh, her nipples peaked through her cami, and Rain’s pretty sure that Rain’s cock is peaking out through the bottom hem of his sleep shorts, leaking against his thigh. One more glance to his left exposes Sunshine rubbing two fingers over her hardened clit through her pajamas, and just to her right he spies Dew stroking his cock shamelessly to the sight of Phantom humping his pillow – and where did that footage even come from??? 

“This is my favorite part,” someone announces and Phantom feels his soul leave his body when the sound of his orgasm leaves the tv for the umpteenth time that night. Starting now, Phantom hates movie night.

[torihakaraublog]

Obey Me! NB Events 1 - 3

An archive of event blog post (1/5) from my twitter (originally posted before I started my tumblr). Gosh its so hard to go back and look at old twitter posts! Glad I started doing the event blogs here instead lol

Obey Me! NB "The Cursed Seed and the Fertilizing Flame" Pop Quiz

(idk where my post about this event went... thanks twitter...

At least the screenshots are saved on my phone :3 (I don't have the energy to find them rn tho)

But anyways I did some fan art for it with Lucifer and Asmo! <3 There is a whole monologue about how Lucifer hecking STOLE a kiss from me. It was too soon man!

Edit: omg I found a link to the post just as I finished posting event 12! We are winning today!)

Omg me and Lucifer kissed! That escalated quickly *blushes* Apparently I just acted in the wrong moment before and so he was not up to hand holding.

It didn't feel super romantic tho for some reason xD guess I'm still hurting from his previous rejection... honestly I would have rather gone with the hug option at this time, but I didn't like it's wording.

Me: "I'm here for Simeon and Levi only!" Also me: "Lucifer hold my hannnnndddd." "Let's kiss!"

(Turned some of the art into animatics as well!)

Thanks for checking in on me Simon TwT. Also Lucifer rejected my hond holding during the event *tear*

Obey Me! NB "The Demon's Gambit" Pop Quiz

(Note from future Brooke: Have good memories of this event - got to hang out with a irl friend while it was going on)

Beel getting scolded for eating treats Luke made *tear* poor Beel he has such a hard time with his urges.

"I've fallen for you all over again." How could I not Bel <3 I really appreciated getting some time with Bel as I haven't much in the main story yet <3

We ain't smooching, but I must say this is one of the cutest thing anyone has every done for me (well in game lol) <3 <3

Thank you Bel! <3 let's bake together next time <3

Cookie doodle :3 (bg on right is from the game wiki)

Suck it obey me! I finally got all S tiers with an hour left of the event!

Obey Me! NB "RAD on Stage" Pop Quiz

Lucifer: "I don't mind being on dance team."

Asmo: "Awe but I would like to put you in a sexy outfit."

Me: "let's pull straws."

Diavolo: "I'll make them."

*Diavolo conveniently ends up on fashion team with Lucifer.*

I kinda speed run this event and I have thoughts: Why are the event cards not related to the event story?? I like the stage outfits! Would have been cool to get cards with them *sad sigh* also was there a 'kiss' option with Simeon and I just chose all wrong options?

I only got to hold hands when we bowed on stage. Tho this interaction with him was pretty cute! Overall I think the event was all over the place and kinda dry. (I feel it may have been a bit more exciting for Mammon stans).

Think I finally settled on a hair design for MC!

[dream-critical]

do you think dream actually had the idea of a multilingual smp himself or do you have think it was just damright stolen ?

haven’t heard any shit abt anything else since i don’t have twitter but i kinda wanted to get someone else’s stance

Nope, quackity apparently has been working on the qsmp, or at least developing the concept and planning it, for two years at least. Dream must've heard some of it somewhere from someone and ran with that immediately. He 100% stole it, but I'm pretty sure the usmp is cancelled (which good lmao it was doomed anyway) so that's good at least. Though I'm sure it'd be horrible and we'd be able to get some entertainment out of it, in the end it wouldn't be worth it lmao.

[marblesarelost]

Oh hell no

He stole from NORA? Oh shit no, buddy you're dead. You don't even know how dead you are yet. I mean, obviously of course Uncle Stevie's lawyers are gonna come for you, and the Pratchett Estate is gonna come after your ass, but you don't know, you do not realize, what kind of hell you have unleashed on yourself.

Nora Roberts does not fucking play when it comes to plagiarism.

She.

Does.

Not.

Play.

There was a whole scandal about it in the ...I want to say the late '90s? Where another romance author who Nora knew personally, had called her friend, was caught lifting entire passages from Nora's books, and Nora, as she should, lost her entire shit over it. As she should.

Source: https://sites.duke.edu/unsuitable/plagiarism-in-romantic-fiction/

AND

Nora is also currently suing a Brazilian "writer" who basically did the same thing as this guy apparently did, only they focused on romance novels and writers as far as I remember.

Source: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/apr/25/nora-roberts-files-multi-plagiarism-lawsuit-alleging-writer-copied-more-than-40-authors

And I remember the brouhaha that this roused up in Romancelandia (what we used to call Romance Writer Twitter). It was HUGE. I mean absolutely HUUUUUGE. @linotte-melodieuse you remember this, right?

Anyway, dude you do not know what hells you have just entered into lawsuit wise, but you better get used to having your paycheck garnished for the rest of your entire fucking life. Sucks to be you.

PSA: "Shaxpir" AI writing software: AVOID!

The tl;dr: A guy is selling subscriptions to an AI-based software tool to "help you write better novels." And to train it, he's used tens of thousands of novels from authors you know, without those authors giving him permission.

...Sometimes things seem to blow up with unusual speed. This particular shit seems to have hit the fan yesterday, primarily on Twitter, when various authors discovered the guy's website, prosecraft.io. This site featured "clippings" of writing from the authors he'd stolen from... and the revelation that he had scraped their entire books, not just excerpts, to train his AI. ("2,470,720,986 words," his website bragged, "from 27,668 books, by 15,622 authors." The only authors who were off limits, apparently, were people using [or paying for] his software.) Though the guy hastily took prosecraft.io down when the online explosions began, if you take a look at this Google search you can see the covers of just some of the books the entire contents of which he exploited for AI training.

This usage goes well beyond the "fair use" defense that he belatedly (and ineffectively) attempted to employ on Twitter. It's straightforward copyright infringement, on a massive scale: good old-fashioned theft.

Gizmodo has a goodish breakdown of the broad situation here. AV Club also has one here.

The only upside to this sorry situation is that, at the legal end of things, this guy is certainly about to get nuked from orbit… because all those authors’ full-text works will still be in the guts of the guy’s AI, which is being used by him for commercial purposes. (Among the authors he made the gross tactical error of stealing from: Stephen King, James Patterson, the Pratchett Estate, and Nora Roberts. This... is not going to go well for him.)

Leverage's John Rogers sums it up succinctly:

Meanwhile: the guy who created this whole mess is still selling subscriptions to his Shaxpir software (I'm not adding the URL here) that he trained using stolen goods. So—until someone stops him—you might like to reblog this info for the attention of others here who prefer their writing to stay human-made as well as -fueled, and not to support the seriously ethically-challenged.

[thatsmutaccount]

ATTENTION: this post is more me venting about something, nothing too serious or that could upset people, but still, if you don't want any negativity don't read this, and instead I hope you have a fantastic day ^.^

Quick disclaimer before we start: at the beginning of this August I discovered that someone stole one of my works on ao3 and tried to pass it on as their own. When I tried to comment on his fic to talk about it I discovered they blocked me so I couldn't say anything about it.

After that I looked around and what to do about this kind of stuff and so I sent a message to the ao3 staff to ask them to put it down, blocked the dickhead in question and bookmarked the incriminated fic as public telling other people the truth.

The fic is still up and is currently the only bookmark on my profile.

Anyway, as if this wasn't enough I started digging around and found out I wasn't the only one they where stealing from: there are at least 4 other people he stole fic from and tried to pass them as his own, and this is really making my blood boil, especially because all the other times they where scared and being called out by them they cancelled the incriminated fic, but not with mine apparently.

The author in question is called notyourtypicalauthor, or itwasnotnytasfault on Twitter I think, and if you search their name, even here on Tumblr, you'll find the post where people are calling him out.

The fic he stole from me was the first actual chapter of my "Logan the himbo collection", it is practically a 1:1 replica with some added part. It's honestly pretty cringe to read, our style (if he even has a style at this point and all the stuff he does are not stolen as well) don't mash together like at all.

Now, of you follow me on ao3 or read the notes on my chapters you already know that, and you probably also know that I promised to never talk about it ever again. But it's hard, because now I'm always afraid. I'm afraid of him stealing again from me or the fact that I read a story with the content I write about and find out it was, again, someone else coping my stuff. It's stressfull and it's really taking a lot out of the joy of reading on ao3.

Today it was particularly hard because I saw he published a new story and from the premise I was getting a weird feeling, so I clicked on it, and I know it's not like "Logan the himbo", it's not a 1:1 replica, but I can't help thinking he took some of my scenes and like stitched them together and tried to pass them as his own.

Maybe I'm just paranoid, I know that people who write (and I use the word "write" very loosely when I'm talking about him) similar stuff may end up with similar scenes but the fear is there, and I don't know what to do about it.

Sigh, I'm sorry for this venting post, it's just really unfair and I needed to talk about it to someone, or just post my thought about it without having the feeling of trauma dumping on my readers on ao3, again. Thank you for listening to me and just be careful and have a nice day.

PS: do not go and harras them or something like that, did I make myself clear? It won't change anything and it will just give him a reason to complain and twist the story to make me sound like the villain here, so please if you want to do something good just spread the word, tell the truth and block, mute or unsubscribe from him. Being mad at him won't change anything and, more importantly, it's not worth any of you time, your time is better used doing something useful and by being productive, so go do that! ^.^

Have a nice day, dudes!!!!

[cesium-sheep]

TnT I was putting on videos for bed and the vod for mario party 3 but the ai punishes you is privated, that was specifically the one I wanted too :( this sucks

[alexanderossis]

Ooo!! Could you write a post Zandervoort fix it for Britcedes please? Maybe George thinking Lewis is mad at him and Lewis reassuring him that he isn’t, maybe George has read some of the things on twitter and is upset that Lewis’ fans and friends are annoyed with him?

<3

hello! sorry this took a bit, it's long. but thank you for prompting this, I was going to write one anyway and this gave me the kick to do it. Hope it's what you were looking for.

George doesn’t exactly hide after the race ends in Zandvoort… he just makes a very conscious effort to avoid Lewis at all times. He’s pretty sure he did nothing wrong, or at least he was until the cool-down room where Max very bluntly says “mate, I didn’t think you had the guts to do that” and then the media starts asking him questions and he realizes that Lewis wasn’t on the soft tyres, and wasn’t given the option to stop.

He knew he was faster than Lewis, that much was obvious when he narrowly avoided driving into the back of his boyfriend’s car, but he hadn’t realized that he had argued for an advantage and gotten it.

The champagne that Max and Charles pour over him feels like shame, regret and betrayal as it runs down his back. He absolutely does not look for Lewis in the crowd or during media.

The podium position feels as uncomfortable as the sticky champagne that dries between his fireproofs and his skin. Normally he would go to Lewis’ driver room and they would wind down together, slowly showering off the sweat and dirt from the race before they would inevitably be told to hurry up and get to the briefing.

But he’s spoken to enough people since the race ended to have heard about Lewis’ radio messages, about his unusually harsh reaction to the decision, to George’s decision, that he can’t bring himself to face the man he loves.

He showers alone in his own driver’s room and the extra time allows him to scroll through his social media and Lewis isn’t the only one with harsh words apparently. Every other mention of his name reveals comments saying that he ruined Lewis’ race, stole his win from him, hates being Lewis’ teammate, is not really that great of a driver.. it goes on and on and George can’t stop scrolling.

He’s jarred out of his doom scrolling when someone knocks on his door to tell him to go to the briefing. He doesn’t respond, can’t respond, not when the thoughts are circling, spiraling, pushing him towards an edge he hasn’t seen for a long time.

“George?” The voice calls out again, knocking louder.

His legs aren’t working, it’s like he’s glued to the chair. He has to go, he knows he has to go. If the team is mad at him already for ruining Lewis’ race, they’ll be twice as mad if he’s late to the briefing. Lewis will be twice as mad…

That thought forces him into a standing position and he makes it to the door.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he nearly barrels over the poor person at the door.

He follows her silently up the stairs of the Mercedes garage, and when he reaches the glass meeting room, everyone is waiting. Waiting for him.

He mumbles another apology and keeps his eyes trained on the floor as he walks past Lewis and Toto, taking his seat opposite his boyfriend.

When he finally meets Lewis’ gaze, he’s met with a puzzled look. There’s a fire behind his eyes still, even though he’s giving off a much calmer demeanour. But George still doesn’t know what to think, and all he can do is brace himself for the end.

--

George is never late. George never skips their post-race rituals. George never ignores his texts.

George is doing all of those things and Lewis is terrified.

He knows that George didn’t mean to undercut him, didn’t mean to end up on the faster tyres, didn’t mean for Lewis to lose the race. It was easy to blame him, too easy for the fans it seemed. But Lewis knew that it was the team’s strategy that had cost him the race, not his boyfriend’s clever decision to go for the soft tyres. If anything, he was proud of George. He would have done the same.

He had planned to tell George as much, planned to lick his skin soaked with champagne, planned to get on his knees in the shower and show him just how smart he thought George was. But George never came.

For a while, Lewis waited, sweat-soaked suit sticking to his body. He never showered without George after a race anymore. But then it started to get closer to the time for the debrief and if he doesn’t shower soon, he’ll be late.

So, he stands under the warm water and panics.

After a few minutes, his brain reminds him that panicking isn’t a good use of his energy and he lets himself sink into a brief meditation, calming his breathing, focusing on how to get the most out of the briefing.

But then he goes to the briefing and George still isn’t there and the panicked, uneasy feeling is back.

A few minutes past their start time, George finally appears. He doesn’t meet Lewis’ eyes but Lewis can tell something is wrong. He’s shaking, eyes trained on the floor, only offering Toto and him a fleeting glance before settling into his chair.

When George finally meets his gaze, Lewis isn’t surprised to see that his usually clear blue eyes are pale and watery. George worries his bottom lip with his teeth and Lewis aches to reach over and run a soothing hand down his partner’s cheek. But, this is a business meeting, so he instead gives George a concerned look and turns to the front as Toto starts to speak.

--

George nods in all of the right places, thanks the right people and as soon as he’s free to go, bolts. He gulps the fresh air into his lungs, feeling as if he hadn’t taken a single breath throughout the entire hour-long briefing.

No one explicitly said that they were mad at him, Lewis included. But that really did nothing to calm his nerves.

He takes the long way back to his room, hoping he can avoid Lewis and any other straggling employees who want to talk about the race. He meets no one, letting out a sigh of relief as he pushes open his door.

His relief is cut short when he’s met with all 5 foot 9 inches of his boyfriend in the doorway. Lewis’ toned arms are crossed against his chest and even though George towers over him, he looks intimidating.

George shuffles past him awkwardly and Lewis shuts the door behind them.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Lewis speaks first, his calm voice breaking slightly through George’s panic.

“Not really,” George runs a hand through his hair and looks away. “I mean, sort of.”

Lewis doesn’t respond, only studies George’s shivering figure.

“I’m sorry,” George volunteers but Lewis says it at the same time.

“For what?” Lewis responds but George says it too and they both let out a small giggle.

“Okay,” Lewis speaks, and this time it’s just him. “I think you should sit down before you pass out, and we’ll talk about this. One at a time.”

George goes to the couch and his body nearly gives out as he collapses onto it, gripping the nearby pillow tightly. He wants to tell Lewis to sit next to him, wants Lewis’ touch to ground him. But he still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Lewis to yell or storm out or something, anything.

Except, his brain helpfully supplies, Lewis just apologized to him.

“Wait,” George frowns, “did you say that you’re sorry?”

Lewis sits on the chair opposite him, palms facing upwards on his knees.

“Yes?” he responds, tilting his head to consider his boyfriend.

“Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong.”

“Neither did you!”

George raises his eyebrows, “I did everything wrong.”

“George-”

“I ruined your race. I was selfish. I chose the soft tyres, I didn’t want to lose the race.” He’s losing control of his breathing now, shaking hands gesturing, “I took away your chance. And everyone knows it.”

“George,” Lewis says again, standing up from the chair.

He’s leaving you, George thinks and he’s seconds from dropping to his knees to beg Lewis for forgiveness. To make him stay.

But Lewis settles on the couch next to him. He grabs George’s hands, frozen in mid-explanation, and holds them, tattooed thumbs rubbing soft circles across George’s pale skin.

“Can you breathe for me?” Lewis’s voice is soft, quiet against the rush in George’s brain.

He really, desperately, wants to breathe. He wants to be good for Lewis. But everything feels stuck.

“Oh, baby.” Lewis breathes and George breaks.

“Please don’t break up with me,” it comes out in a rush, “please, I won’t do it again.”

Once the words are out, he feels like he can breathe again, air rushing into his lungs so fast he’s panting.

Lewis uses his grasp on George’s hands to pull the taller man towards him, letting George fall against his chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lewis murmurs, strong hands rubbing soothing strokes on George’s back. “But I’m not leaving you. And nothing you do on the track could ever make me go anywhere.”

George tilts his head slightly from where it’s pressed against Lewis’ solid form and meets his gaze.

“Can I say my part now?” Lewis asks.

George nods, tucking his head back down.

“I’m sorry that I yelled on the radio,” Lewis sighs, “I’m so embarrassed. And I should have come and found you after and celebrated with you.”

“Why-” George goes silent with a look from the older man.

“My turn to talk, Georgie. Anyway, what you did out there, was exactly what you were supposed to do.”

His hands still against George’s frame, “It’s hard for me to say in the moment but, I’m not the team. We’re both here to secure the win for Mercedes. You made the right choice, you got the podium. I couldn’t ask for anything else.”

“But it could have been your first win of the season.”

“No,” Lewis shakes his head, “I didn’t have the right tyres.”

“I could have held Max back-”

“I honestly don’t know that you could have.”

George bites his lip before responding, “everyone told me it was my fault. That you could have won if I hadn’t asked for softs.”

“Who said that?” Lewis’ brow furrows, “I didn’t hear anyone say that in the briefing.”

To be honest, George wasn’t exactly listening in the briefing but he says, ���on social.”

“On social?” Lewis shifts suddenly, reaching for his phone on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” George mumbles into Lewis’ hoodie, “some fans and some of your, uh..”

“My fans?”

“Your friends,” George finishes, sending his gaze back to his feet.

There’s silence in the room again, just the buzz of Lewis’ phone as he searches.

“That’s unacceptable,” Lewis huffs when he finds what George is talking about.

“I’m sorry-” George starts.

“No, not you. God, not you. You did nothing wrong,” Lewis runs his free hand across George’s hair soothingly. “They don’t get to talk to you like that.”

A small feeling of calm settles over George for the first time since he made the call during the race.

A few minutes later, Lewis places his phone back down on the coffee table. Soft fingers cup George’s chin, tilting his face upwards to face his boyfriend.

“Okay, I emailed PR and told them that they need to deal with the comments on the Mercedes account. I can go onto your account and hide them on your profile if you’d like,” Lewis offers, “And I texted my friends and set them straight.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” George says quietly.

“Yes, I did.” Lewis huffs, leaning forward to press a kiss to George’s pout.

“Let’s make one thing very clear,” Lewis adds, brown eyes meeting George’s blue ones. “I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

George beams, letting Lewis pepper his face with kisses. “Got it.”

“Now, Mr. Podium,” Lewis sits up, dislodging George slightly. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel and make up for that shower that we missed, hmm?”

George winks, “I can think of a few ways to celebrate.”

[carpetcat2]

Aw man I have so many thoughts on Drill and Scrap Knight. Copy n pasted pretty much word for word from a twitter thread bc I don’t want to resummarize them. Put under a readmore for dialogue spoilers up to Drill Knight’s boss fight.

I was fully prepared to be obsessed w any other Hexcavators, but Drill Knight was surprisingly delightful. You don't understand him like I do.

He has the vibe of someone who didn't really think of his life in the long-term but is also terrified of death.

He likes the infamy gained from his heists bc 1. He's an attention whore.

But like. On a deeper level I think he's desperate to not be forgotten. He genuinely is prepared for the possibility of dying young, but he doesn't want to be forgotten just as quickly.

It's said in camp NPC dialogue that, besides Scrap, the other Hexcavators were pretty new. It's not a group that was around for a long time.

And just based off of the other Hexcavator dialogues, it seems they see it as a temporary thing too, or at the very least don’t plan on staying long-term. (Taken from SK wiki bc I didn’t want to go through screenshots again.)

They just have to do this one heist and they're all set. So it's really neat to see Drill say this line. He cares about this seemingly temporary group and it is so interesting and sexy of him

Anyways. That’s the Mostly canon compliant stuff here’s the fanficcy stuff I wrote about Scrap and Drill based off of their apparent unique relationship.

I would’ve put this under another readmore, but apparently you can only have 1 on posts so now you have to deal with my insane rambling.

I think Scrap is like. Pretty old. Like. 58 or something while Drill's somewhere around his 30s. They're equals for the most part but the age is important.  

She’s in no way the epitome of an adult who should be responsible for a kid let alone a teen. She’s like a wine aunt who's kind of a bad influence, but she still has valuable insight on life that Drill very much values.

They met when Drill was like. Some weird scraggly little teen and they've been pestering each other since.

Do you get where I'm going yes yes you do

 DK: There's no thrill in a heist without danger ScK: Well, there's no thrill without skill, you little shit. Lemme show you how it's done before you keel over or something.

  So that day rolls around and she just wakes him up like ScK: Wakey wakey birthday boy! Or should I say... Birthday man ;D

And Drill is still trying to figure out whether it's a Tuesday or a Friday morning. 

ScK: We gotta do something big for your big day! Like... Or or like... Or maybe!!! Fuck it were doing all of the above. We're gonna have a busy day today so LETSGO And then they rob a couple sorcerers and one of Pridemoor's treasure vaults 

 And by the end of the day they're breathless. It's become dark by then and the only light they have besides the fleeting setting sun is the dim glow of the magical relics they stole refracted in the facets of gems they also stole. 

They're trying to keep their voices down, but the excitement is too much. It wasn't a big deal though. They were the best scavenger and the best thief! 

Their chatter finally slows down and they just sit there for a moment to appreciate the chilled air. "Oh shit wait. Gotta do this before I forget" scrap breaks the peace to go rummage through their loot and drill glances over, curiously.

ScK: Tada!!

She pulls out an expensive looking bottle of wine and a glass that somehow did not break while inside the bag. 

DK: Oh... Wow  DK: Let me guess. You plan on getting blackout drunk again?  ScK: What? No, this is the fancy shit. Obviously it's for you.  DK: Really now? ScK: Yeah, really! I know your standards are high and all so I made sure to get the best of the best for you! Why did you think I dragged you all the way to Pridemoor's vault? DK: The various magical relics? The ridiculous amount of gold? Really, I can't think of any other reason.😒 ScK: Those were also very compelling reasons, but this one's the big one!

And she holds out the bottle and glass for him to take.

DK: ... You do realize that the legal drinking age is 21, right? ScK: What?? Where's the guy who raided Pridemoor's vault with me just an hour ago? Here I was, thinking you didn't care about the law. DK: Obviously I don't. 

And then he takes the items from her. but like. listen. listen.

"I didn't think I'd live past 18" 

And he's now at that middle point and that fact is just sinking in.

Y'know that feeling when you're overwhelmed w emotion or whatever but you're in denial about it / trying to push it down bc it's stupid?

You're in conflict with what's going on bc by all means it shouldn't be happening, and you're trying to keep it together to not dour the mood bc it's supposed to be fun/happy.

He's like. frozen in place for a moment because everything's just setting in. 

"Holy shit. I'm an adult." And he's reluctant at first to actually try it bc he couldn't really fathom the possibility.

ScK: Aww, come on! Don't tell me you're chickening out on me! ScK: Hey.. earth to Drill? Yoohoo! ScK: .......Are you alright?

He then (tries) to chug the whole bottle to deflect the question, which is something you absolutely should not do if you want to be correct about drinking wine.

She knows something is up but just isn't sure how to handle it. She doesn't really bring it up but still tries to lighten the mood. 

And she's not exactly equipped to handle something like that bc she's very much someone who pushes down issues too.

Far from an amazing influence.

Recognizes an issue, but doesn't personally address it. “He's a tough guy.. He's not gonna want to talk about it with me and that's fine. He can handle it himself.”

Note: He doesn't, and now Scrap has to reconcile with the fact that she actually has to act responsibly because she does in fact care about this loser and doesn't want him hurt.

It's not going to be as easy as just repressing it and laughing it off later, because the weight doesn't solely fall on her shoulders this time.

Something something she acts mean and pushes people away because she doesn't want that responsibility over another person in that way again. She's fucked up in that position more times than she wished she did and doesn't really trust herself to be in that position ever again.

The convo is important for the both of them bc Scrap has to confront that shared mindset of not thinking about anything longterm and find reasons that would comfort someone about it + acknowledge that amount of responsibility she has over her friend and take that seriously.

And like. I talked about Drill's deal. Actually looking forward for the future. Starting to delve more into the long-term.

DK: The highest quality wine from Pridemoor's vaults... Honestly, I have no idea how I'll top that when I actually reach drinking age. ScK: Well, that'd be a problem for when you get to 21! We could rob Pridemoor’s Castle itself! DK: ....Yeah. Yeah, that sounds cool.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 3)

(part 1) (part 2) 

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: mention of past sexual harassment, very mature karaoke (lol), mention of pornography

Day 63 and you still hadn’t talked about it.  He’d actually gotten to know you a lot better over the past two months, even almost confessing his feelings for you with that stupid half-asleep storybook thing he’d done way back when, but you still hadn’t talked about the night you saw him looking in the rearview mirror.

Tonight actually reminded him of that night; this time was a premiere, for a movie you hadn’t actually been in but apparently you were supposed to go anyways?  He didn’t get it but he figured he didn’t need to.  As long as you came back alone this time, he’d be happy.

Of course, when he saw you step out to the car to leave for the venue, he was confident that would be impossible— not that you ever looked bad on a red carpet or anything, but wow… this was different.

“It’s not too slutty, is it?” you asked him nervously, spinning around to show him the back.  Don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass—   

“Just slutty enough,” he responded with a gloved thumbs up.

“Perfect,” you smiled, and he opened the door for you to get in the back.  He took a moment to catch his breath before circling around to the driver’s side.

You actually chatted with him on the way, which was a new thing you two had started doing when he drove you.  He looked forward to your talks a lot— especially the ones where you ranted about whatever was on your mind.  You would usually apologize for rambling but he liked it; and, you were cute when you got really worked up about something, even if he thought it was kind of trivial.

As he pulled up to the red carpet, with cameras flashing and the indistinguishable yelling of reporters and fans, you shot him a look as if you didn’t want to go.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you shook your head incredulously, “I just… I wish you would’ve come and seen it.”

He recalled a few weeks back when you offered him a ticket to the premiere showing, but he’d insisted on just sticking to what he knew and letting your assistant have the spare ticket.  “I’ll catch it on Netflix,” he dismissed.

“No, I mean, I wish you were coming with me,” you explained.

Was it hot in here, all of a sudden?  Because his cheeks felt warm.  “Uh, you don’t want me in there.  I always fall asleep in theaters anyways.  Just go have fun and I’ll catch you after.”

“Okay,” you nodded with an adorable little smile.

So he waited, wondering if he should’ve taken you up on it all those weeks ago, but decided he probably made the right call.  He would just embarrass you in a place like that, more than likely, and you had enough to deal with already.  He felt more useful waiting in the wings than being in the spotlight, to use a fittingly-timed theater metaphor.

It was a few hours of him killing time in the car, but he got to relax a little more since the event already had pretty good security on its own.  You’d recommended a book called Flowers for Algernon to him, even lending him your copy for the time being, and so he leaned his seat back and picked up where he’d left off from this morning.  Of course, if he had known that you’d be gone long enough for him to finish, and that the ending was going to make him cry, he probably wouldn’t have read it.  WIth his luck, it was inevitable that he’d be all but sobbing when you texted him to pull the car around.

Wiping his tears and hoping his eyes wouldn’t be too red, he tossed the book into the glovebox and started the engine.  You waved cheerily when you saw him from the entrance, and he attempted to navigate through all the other cars pulling up so he could reach you.  Thankfully, you didn’t have a new friend with you this time— or an old friend.  Jealousy crisis averted, for now.

“How was it?” he asked with a smile as you opened the door and slipped in, unable to hide how happy he was to see you.

“The premiere itself was a lot of fun, I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in ages; the movie, though?  Sort of pretentious,” you admitted as you shut the door and he got the car moving again.  “And way too long!  I could watch movies all day, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch a movie all day!”

“Fair enough,” he laughed.

“What did you do?” you asked innocently.

“I finished your book,” he frowned, trying not to think about it so he wouldn’t get emotional again.  

“Ah, I can tell you’re still a little hurt about it,” you smiled mischievously.  “Should’ve warned you about the ending.”

“No, no,” he disagreed, “it’s not a bad ending just because it’s a sad one… it was a good book.”

You’d already been smiling, but your smile undeniably changed as he watched it in the rearview mirror.  Something softer, something more sensitive.  He liked this one better.  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Just in time to interrupt the moment, you saw something on the passing street outside that caught your attention.

“Ooh, karaoke!” you piped up, pressing your face against the inside of the window excitedly.  “Pull over!”

He chuckled at how easily distracted you were, but did as you’d asked.  He barely found time to slow down to a stop before you were opening the door and running out, flashing your ID to get inside.

He groaned as he realized how completely unsafe it was for you to be in a bar… especially now, when you were at your most recognizable and literally still wearing what you’d had on at the premiere.  Thankfully, he managed to pull the car around and park in the closest spot he could find, jogging to join you inside the bar and hoping you hadn’t already made too much of a scene.  His hopes were dashed the moment he pushed through the door, however.

“Is she perverted like me?  Would she go down on you in a theater?” you sang along with the grungy backing track of Alanis Morrisette’s You Oughta Know; your lips were curled into a faux snarl as you stood on stage with your heels in one hand and the microphone in the other.

Bucky’s head fell into his hands, looking around to see hundreds of bar patrons, nearly all of them with their phones out filming you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Bucky mumbled to himself, hoping you would somehow hear it and take his advice.  Instead, you pantomimed sucking a dick with a cute little wink and everyone cheered.  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“And I’m here, to remind you,” you continued, jumping around wildly; you looked like you were having the time of your life, honestly.  If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve let himself smile seeing you so happy.

During the bridge, you stole someone’s water off their table and poured a bit on your head, slicking your hair back and shivering from the cold.  There was something about the water dripping down your face, starting to soak your clothes and make your skin glisten...

Bucky glanced around to make sure no one was looking at him before subtly adjusting his jeans.

He watched you sing the entire song, making most of the notes and definitely capturing the anger of the original song— if clearly having a lot more fun with it than most would.  The entire bar cheered when you finished, and you took a moment to take some pictures with people and meet a few fans, which he thought was sweet even if his bodyguard instincts forced him to interrupt after a moment.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he guided you away gently.

“Goodnight!” you waved goodbye to someone who was already buried in her phone and posting the photo you’d taken with her.

“Have a good time?” he asked sarcastically as the two of you began to walk out together.

“Would’ve been better if you hadn’t been glaring at me the whole time,” you smirked.

“I wasn’t glaring, I was just… watching.  You have a good voice, you know.”

You seemed surprised by the compliment.  “Oh.  Thanks.”

“And your stage presence is certainly… energetic,” he grinned.  “I bet your little charade is already trending.”

“I checked, and it is,” you giggled, showing him your phone for a moment where Twitter was open and you were the #7 topic in the United States and climbing.  “And the part where I poured that water on myself is pretty gif-able, don’t you think?”

He raised a brow as he held the back door of the bar open as you slipped back on your heels and walked past him.  “Is that why you did it?  For the reaction?”

“I did it cause it was fun,” you corrected.  “You wouldn’t know anything about that.  And the water thing was just practical, I was getting hot in this dress.”

That didn’t seem to be a problem anymore with the way you shivered in the night air as he walked you through the parking lot.  “Want my jacket?” he offered.

“No,” you frowned, but you eyed the leather with a hungry stare.  He chuckled and took it off, draping it over your shoulders anyways.  “How far is the car?” 

“Uh, a block?  Not much parking this time of night,” he explained.

“Ugh, these heels,” you groaned, “they hurt so bad.  I don’t know if I can make it.”  You began to slip them off but he stopped you.

“You can’t go barefoot out here, god knows what’s on the ground,” he shuddered; what if there was broken glass or something?

“Well, I can’t wear these,” you frowned, “and I probably shouldn’t be walking on asphalt in red bottoms anyway…”

He probably should’ve warned you before he scooped you up into his arms, but it was sort of instinct and he kinda forgot to say anything first.  You squealed a little but then went lax in his grip.

“You’re gonna carry me the whole way?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s only a block,” he shrugged, adjusting you in his arms a bit before starting the walk. 

It got quiet after that, the cool night air rustling the trees and blowing through his hair— frankly, he was a little chilly without his jacket, but it looked better on you anyhow.  The drive home was quiet, too, or at least quieter than usual, but it didn’t feel awkward, necessarily.  It didn’t feel like a lull in the conversation; it felt more like the conversation had just changed from verbal to non-verbal.  You both looked around at the city lights surrounding you on the drive, silent because there was nothing that needed to be said.  It wasn’t nervous, or tense, or anxiety-inducing like most of his interactions with you (or with anyone) could be.

It felt like time spent with an old friend.  He hadn’t known you long enough for that to be accurate, but he was happy to think of you as a new friend.  He just hoped you thought the same.

Arriving at the house, he dropped you off at the front and watched you make a mad dash for the stairs and presumably your bedroom, smiling to himself as he parked the car and came in to follow you.  He saw his jacket tossed onto the couch and your expensive shoes discarded right by the door.  Going upstairs and peeking into your room, he saw your limp form flopped onto the bed, your back exposed from the low cut of the dress.

“You’d better not get comfortable, you’ll kill me if I let you fall asleep with all that makeup on,” he frowned, leaning against the doorway.

"I couldn't fall asleep yet, anyways.  I'm wired."

“Any plans to burn off all that energy?” he pressed.

You groaned a little as you sat up, starting to unclasp all the jewelry on your wrists, around your neck, and on your ears.  “It’ll take me a while to get out of all of this— but not as long as it took me to get into it,” you laughed.  “Then I’m thinking TV and beers.”

“Beers?” he questioned, emphasizing the plural.  “You plannin’ to get toasted right before you go to sleep?”

“No, it’s plural because there’s one beer for me and one beer for you,” you explained with the slightest air of condescension, but he couldn’t really think of it as rude since it was an invitation.

“I don’t want to intrude on your chill evening,” he refuted.

“No, really, you’re not intruding!” you insisted, standing up and setting the jewelry on a nightstand before approaching him and turning to face away from him.  “Will you unzip me please?”

He stammered a little.  “I don’t… see a zipper,” he admitted with a weak voice.

“It’s on the side here, see?” you lifted your arm a bit, and pointed to it.  

Reaching out to touch your zipper was reminiscent of that old boardgame Operation: he needed to touch the zipper and only the zipper, cause if he bumped into anything else nearby, he got the feeling he’d get zapped.

His breath caught a bit as he watched more and more of your skin become exposed, the zipper ending up so low that he could just barely see the top of something lacy around your hips— and he had to stop there because anything more could induce cardiac arrest.  

“Thanks!” you piped up happily, slipping away to your closet to do the rest in private.  “Will you get the beers while I take my makeup off?” you requested through the shut door.

“Sure,’ he replied, turning to leave but realizing he should ask first: “Shiner or Pabst?” 

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled, and he laughed because it was a stupid question.  Trodding downstairs, he grabbed the Shiners from the fridge, stopping to check his phone only to see that it had started to automatically send him headlines pertaining to you.

‘Touch of Blood’ star gives impromptu karaoke performance at Queens dive bar!

He laughed at the picture of you onstage, even though he thought it was kind of reductive to describe you by a movie you’d been in so long ago when you had so much great new stuff coming out.  Jumping back up the stairs, beers in hand, he found you makeup-free (aside from some leftover mascara and eyeliner that hadn’t really made it all the way off) and in a robe, laying on the bed as you pointed the remote at your TV.  He thought you looked almost more beautiful like this than you did on the red carpet; of course, objectively, everybody looks better when they’ve been painted to the point of perfection, but he liked the domesticity of this.  When you were casual and relaxed like this, he could almost, almost pretend you were his girlfriend or something.  And not, you know, a global superstar and his employer.

“Beer me,” you requested as he sat down next to you, handing you a bottle and trying to ignore the thorough view of your legs he was getting in that robe.

“Anything good on?” he prompted as he watched you scroll through the channels on the guide.

“Uh, not particularly,” you frowned.  

“They’re showing a game,” he pointed out as you passed the sports channels.

“I’d rather watch this pay-per-view porn,” you rolled your eyes.

He cleared his throat but said nothing because he was confident there was no good response to that.

“Hey, I’m in this!” you beamed, changing the channel quickly.  He nearly had a heart attack until he realized you weren’t scrolling through the porn channels anymore.

He recognized the film instantly as the one of yours that he’d seen the most, for one very embarrassing and slightly sinister reason; looking down to the corner, he saw the HBO logo and realized it wasn’t going to be edited.  His palms got a little clammy but he tried not to worry about it too much.

“Oh, this girl was super nice,” you remembered as you pointed to a character on-screen.  “She had a bigger role but most of it got edited out.”

“That must be a bummer,” he imagined.

“Eh, it happens,” you shrugged.  “Beats getting fired, or recast in the sequel.”

“Have you ever been fired during filming?” he pressed, morbidly curious.

“Once,” you nodded.  “We were only a few days into it so they had no trouble finding somebody new and redoing my scenes.  Just think: I could’ve been a Bond girl if I’d slept with that producer.”

“You— what?!” he squawked.  “You got fired because you wouldn’t have sex with a film exec?”

“I got fired because of ‘creative differences,’” you explained with exaggerated air quotes, “and, unrelatedly, those creative differences surfaced the morning after I refused to get down and dirty with the EP.”

“Jesus,” he shook his head, “that’s… I hope you told someone.”

“Yeah, anonymously.  Somebody will care someday, but not yet.  He’s still too profitable, and not enough people have come forward.”

He glanced over at you, admiring your profile as you kept your eyes on the TV and took a sip of your beer.  When you turned your head and looked back at him, he realized he’d been staring a bit too long.

“What?” you asked, quirking your brow a bit. 

“What?” he repeated.

“You’re staring at me,” you frowned.

“Sorry, I was just… sorry,” he shook his head and looked back ahead.  What he found there wasn’t much less embarrassing, though: he knew all too well that this was the scene right before THE scene.  The scene he’d watched over and over until his arousal overpowered his shame.  The scene that he’d used to try to satisfy his crush on you, but it only made it worse.  The scene that had burrowed into his mind and deepened his obsession even as he fought it with everything he had…

You know, that scene.  And he was about to watch it with you.  

Bucky was completely, entirely, and supremely fucked.

[duchessanon]

Ok I might be missing some details but here’s what I know. Yankee Wally (Sadie) is a 65 yr old woman (and tin tan) from wales who until recently had a popular YouTube channel where she scrolls through her phone/laptop looking at screenshots of articles and photos of Megri. She had like 40k subs and millions of views. She’s v popular in the tin tan world bc she “says it like it is” and isn’t afraid to reveal the “truth” about Megs “surrogacy”. She became friendly with Sam Markle (the obsessed sister) and Sam apparently told Yankee that meg was barren. Obv the sus squad hate this woman. She got banned from Twitter last yr. I think she was also part of Chris Bouzy’s famous list of tintans. Ellie Hall from Buzzfeed interviewed Yankee and then wrote an article mainly about Sam Markle being a troll. In securing the interview Ellie promised Yankee that she wasn’t collaborating with Chris Bouzy and told Yankee she hadn’t spoken to him in months. The article was released and Ellie contacted YouTube to basically ask why the fuck Yankee is still allowed on the platform with all the shit she says. YouTube shut down Yankees channel and Ellie took it as victory. Now obvi Yankee felt betrayed by Ellie bc she’d been nice to her in the interview. So she released screenshots of their convos on Gettr (a Twitter-like app) (which Ellie begged Yankee never to release lmao). Bouzy saw them and revealed that Ellie had lied and she and him had been in contact recently about Yankee. He exposed Ellie for lying to her another one of her sources too. He’s also saying she stole his story/wanted all the glory for getting her taken off YouTube (idk where that fits in). Anyways, Ellie has gone “away” so we don’t have her response. I was looking up Yankee and found that tweet about her past (being a brothel madam and pulling a gun on someone/going to jail). @leotardsanity

[thosch3i]

*cracks knuckles* procrastinating on my Pingxie exchange fic so it's Xiaoge Angst Hours (if you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen this already)

Anyway. I'd just like to know why Xiaoge has apparently canonically lived most of his life being manipulated, exploited, captured, and abused by people who don’t see him as human, but only a convenient scapegoat/tool/weapon...but we only find this out via throwaway lines and short scenes that are never explored in detail?

Like, what exactly happened when Xiaoge lost his memories and was imprisoned in the Golmud Sanatorium? How exactly did those tomb robbers treat A-Kun before Chen Pi Ah Si took him? He was literally kidnapped and used as zombie bait, kept naked in a basket, and he never once fought back--he just let them use him like that? (And what was Xiaoge’s life in Banai like after Chen Pi Ah Si stepped in? The house they all explored was completely bare, with hardly anything in it except the basic necessities for just getting by...it clearly wasn’t a home; Xiaoge hadn’t ever had a home.) On that note, what happened every other time Xiaoge lost his memories? We only really know about A-Kun in the most detail, if you could call it “detailed”. But before that, there was at least the incident that ended with him imprisoned in Golmud. And after that, all we know is the Xisha Undersea Tomb, after which there’s...a blank, until Three Days of Silence. What kind of life must he lead, cursed to lose his memories, spend years searching for them again, only to ultimately forget once again? (It’s no wonder why he feels he has “no past and no future”, why he’s never felt a “connection to this world”.)

What did the Zhang Family do to their children, in general, if they think throwing literal children and pre-teens into the wild and forcing them to rob tombs as a test of their abilities is just perfectly fine? What did they do Xiaoge, specifically, to make a kid with a mom who loved him so much grow up so quiet and aloof and isolated, that even the other Zhang Haike and other Zhang kids who saw him would notice, that the lama in Medog would say to him that his mother’s first and last gift to him was “the heart that those people had hidden away”? What exactly did the fucking Zhang family do to the baby they stole from his mother, and how could they possibly defend forcing that baby to become a scapegoat, a figurehead, a “god” in the eyes of their cult family, then throwing him away the instant he became less useful, letting his adoptive father and others readily use him as a walking bag of blood in ancient tombs?

What exactly led to them dumping the title of “Zhang Qiling” on the kid they stole from a loving mother, exploited as a convenient puppet, and then threw away? 

What kind of bitter “training” was needed to get his fingers like that, what kind of bitter abuse “training” leaves someone so accustomed the harshness of the world, that he won’t bat an eyelash at the the worst of human cruelty, that he’ll turn to literally cutting himself open without hesitation because it’s just that efficient for him to treat himself like a tool...but seeing something genuinely, unequivocally beautiful will break through all his defenses and leave him at a complete loss?

But most importantly, what kind of genuinely good, selfless heart must he have uncovered in Three Days of Silence, for him to not have a single drop of a desire for revenge in his body, for him to still willingly enter the Bronze Gate for Wu Xie as he did despite the Mystic 9 breaking their promises (for him to have been willing to do so for the rest of his life he’d needed to), for him to always save those who want to and can be saved.

NPSS apparently said in a Q&A once, responding to someone asking about the most kindhearted character in DMBJ, that of course it was Xiaoge--“until now, he’s only hurt himself, not others.”

[skellizo]

Ok while yay Origins Lore in the future (from what I have heard) I already know Tommy is gonna make his character go through hell and back. That boy can‘t resist putting his character through traumatic experiences (also he is really good at portraying what his character is going through so yay :D). You can‘t tell me he didn‘t see any posts be it Twitter, Reddit maybe even tumblr of people saying he has the most useless powers and is esencially average, sorry a bit above average. My man will make his character go through his „I feel useless to the people around me“-arc, if he is allowed to get angsty that is, I don‘t know how they want their lore to look like. So yeah if Tommy can do angst lore, we will probably see his Origins character feel useless and/or like a failure. I can imagine both. Other possibilities I could imagine would be, Tommy too is gonna change his Origins like Tubbo did to something more spectacular, he gets a „villian“ arc (more him being angry at people maybe belittling him for his powers or lack there of), he has a minor storyline of being a bit jealous of maybe Phil being able to fly (Idk could be something interesting), he could just get stacked (basically like dsmp!Ranboo) and be like „not so useless now am I?“ or he teams up with Niki & Jack and they become Team Misfits of the origin SMP, which would also be cool (I mean some of those things could also overlap). Anyway I love angst so yeaaaaah (Btw which tag are we supposed to use for Origins stuff?)

Edit: I just remembered that they could also be like, yo Origins!Tommy once had wings or he is an exception in the whole having wings/being able to fully fly. Maybe give my man a jacket (idk why a jacket could be him not wanting to see any of his other hybrid features if he lost his wings) Anyway more angst my dudes :3

Edit 2: Apparently Jack stole the ownership to the pube so maybe no Team Misfits (or them teaming up)...wait a second first the hotel, now the pube Time is a flat circle.

[1ddotdhq]

☘️Fri 18 Dec ‘20 💬

So today was a nice steady change of pace, huh? Louis sold out shows, Harry was on a run, Liam was on Omegle, and Niall was being Irish. 

Harry was spotted out and about in LA today on his daily jogs! He was wearing head to toe Nike and a black mask, which honestly is very sexy of him, love to see that. He was voted GQ’s most stylish man of the year (by fans!), and was 28th (haha) on Hollywood Reporter’s Breakout Stars of Hollywood. Ah yes, because, as we all know, Fine Line was the very first thing he’s ever done, career-wise, nope, nothing of note before that. Anyways, following all of the, uh, excitement (?) on the Harry front, twitter went and trended ‘harries’. Or that could be because ‘louies’ spent most of the day trending, too. You know them - otp: next to you! 

The European leg of Louis’ tour (now scheduled for next year!) went on sale early in the morning and it sold out just as quickly: Warsaw, Vienna, Prague, Zurich, Oslo, and Reykjavik have been added to the list of SOLD OUT Louis concerts, that’s some KING SHIT RIGHT THERE! Before that, he went online last night to like TWO separate posts of the exact same picture of Wayne Rooney’s son signing to Manchester United, which I know nothing about, except that the player being signed is an 11 year old kid and that has to be a bit unusual, no? Speaking of kids, his sisters (who are SIXTEEN) also tried to get people to understand, after even Louis' direct intervention wasn't enough, that it’s a bit odd to be so interested in how tall Louis is (or is not). Uh, yeah, it kinda is, and it’s SUPER peculiar (to steal Harry’s word - that Louis stole,) that people are bugging sixteen year olds about it. Maybe don’t. Anyways, they also said that he would be home for Christmas, and that they’re excited to see him. That’s coming up soon, for anyone who hasn’t been keeping up with Liam’s advent! 

Which, on today’s alarm, Roman and Liam compared the worst Christmas presents they’ve ever received (socks for Liam, bongos for Roman). If you want to give a GREAT present, though, Liam’s christmas merch is out, and it’s very, very cute: a red beanie with a white puff, red and white socks, and an ‘LP’ Christmas ornament, as well as a hoodie and T-Shirts with an intricate ‘Liam Payne Christmas’ design. We got Liam’s full iHeart interview from last week, where he talked a bit about his own christmas traditions and promoted Naughty List, which was added to the F1 Tracks playlist on Spotify and that’s ONE fandom crossover I didn’t see coming! And then the ‘Liam and other people part’ of the day: Liam went live on instagram again today. It was Liam and Tom Felton promoting Tom’s Boxing Day veeps show and being very cute and talking about possible future collaborations, and Tom signed off by saying “kisses on the bum!” which MADE MY WHOLE DAY! And Liam was STILL in a chatty mood, apparently, because he and Maya then went on omegle to chat up random people and serenade them with Naughty List. I gotta say, they FULLY put their faces out there and they're WAY braver than I am for it.  I am VERY interested in what they typed into the “interests'' bar to be matched up with strangers, but I’m sure we’ll find out more as more pictures come out. 

Niall released his ‘Dear Patience’ performance in the Royal Albert Hall show, saying in his newsletter that, “if this year has taught [him] anything, it’s how to be more patient...this song has taken on a whole new meaning for me”. He also made TheThings list of “10 pop stars who were completely self taught” (I’m sure Helene appreciated that). He also took to instagram to promote ALONE,  which is a charity that helps prevent homelessness amongst the elderly in Ireland. “Proud to be Irish,” Niall said, which was a shocker to everyone, I’m sure. And, in reply to someone on twitter saying that Heartbreak Weather ‘a gem of an album’, he said “tell your mates”.  Guess that means he’s done ghosting us on twitter, or at least when he’s got something to promote!

[pinkhairedlily]

Every Glance A Step Closer

Prompt: Glances | AO3 link here. Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

“This one barely goes out of her laboratory. I swear to god she smells like formaline.”

“He smells like the dust and cobwebs in the library. I cannot even pronounce what he’s doing – archi…something. I just know he handles lots of old papers and books. B-o-r-i-n-g.”

“So anyway, Haruno Sakura meet Uchiha Sasuke.”

This was her one free day in her experiment period week, but she needed to steam off for a night and so she allowed her friend to tug her along for a chill night drink. What Sakura didn’t expect was to socialize with a small group of people in their year and to suffer the cold indifference of the guy in front of her.

To her another surprise, he held out a hand to her. “Hello there.” She took it, slightly conscious whether she used her formaline-cancelling hand lotion. A brief and firm shake and he quicky turned away.

“Sasuke finally speaks.”

“That hello sounded a little spicier.”

“Oh my, that hand holding definitely had some electricity.”

The cajoling and teasing finally stopped when the first round of beers came in. Local university gossip was the go-to conversation opener, from the open secret student-teacher relationships to recent couple break-ups. It eventually led to Sasuke and his list of confessions.

“I heard you turned down Mio from fashion design department.”

“No way. I heard she was approached by Celine for a gig.”

“Really Sasuke? That makes her the fifth girl you dumped for this week alone.”

“You never actually had a girlfriend, did you?”

Sakura stared at him doe-eyed, genuinely curious of his answer. He returned her gaze and raised one brow. “I have high standards.”

Oh wow, what a douche, Sakura thought. Hoots erupted in their table but only for a few seconds. While the drinking and the exchanges went on, Sakura found herself wanting to go home early. She was bored and her neck was tired from not looking at him. Under the guise of stretching her already strained neck, she stole a glance, hoping to have a brief moment to take in all of his features and remember his face.

But he was already looking at her. His eyes went to the door of the restaurant then back to her. Bored? He mouthed.

Sakura looked at the door, knowing perfectly what he meant. She chugged her supposedly last bottle of beer and made a small gap with her thumb and index finger. He caught her signal and started to stand up. Their group was tipsy enough not to notice their sudden movements as they shuffled out of the door.

She halted after a few steps, Sasuke’s figure already paces in front of her, wondering whether she should say goodbye or just walk towards the opposite direction back to her apartment. She didn’t think too much of it and quickly chose the latter.

She had to get ice cream first though, a sugar rush to help jolt her senses awake. She was choosing between chocolate and strawberry when a large figure stood beside her.

“A vanilla one, please,” Sasuke said, looking smug with his hands both in his pockets. “Your treat.”

Sakura felt weirded out by the fact that he actively kept on engaging her. His reputation preceded him, but she decided to humor him for tonight. “So library science and you’re an archivist.”

“Intern archivist actually. So you actually know me.” There was arrogance in his voice that made Sakura almost choke on her ice cream.

“Process of elimination. There is no male major in our year in the History department.” She glanced at him and saw that smug look slowly transition into a slight flush of embarrassment. Cute.

“And what if it was a hobby?” Sasuke fiddled with his still unopened vanilla ice cream.

“There was a job posting in the bulletin specifically calling for Library Science students.” Their feet led them to the park still bustling with university night life and settled on a bench under the canopy of a fully bloomed dogwood tree. “See, I’m not your admirer.”

“Well, that’s a downer,” he smirked.

They talked like that for a while, fleetingly exploring related topics to their degree programs, the usual prominent teachers, the busy schedules, until Sakura finished her chocolate and strawberry popsicles. It was on her way home, finally this time, that she realized he never ate his ice cream.

--------------------------

She next saw him on their building’s rooftop with a group of friends, a piece of unsmoked cigarette in between his fingers. He quickly met her eyes, did a brief nod, and looked away. She inadvertently expected more than that but she wasn’t here for a smoke break, and it wasn’t her intention to take it further. She was here for a quick getaway from her microscope and to appreciate the city view dotted with the flowers of spring.

He kept glancing her way, however. He would be in the middle of a conversation and his eyes would stray to her, and she would catch it in her periphery, trying not to notice it. She got tired after a few repetitions of this, and the next time he glanced, she caught his gaze.

Stop it, she mouthed.

I’m bored, he mouthed back. Walk with me. His fingers mimicked the gesture, his fingers walking in the air.

She put her hands together and slightly bowed in apology. Next time, she winked at him before running back to her laboratory, a small smile painted on her lips.

--------------------------

It became like this for the next few weeks; they conversed through glances and awkward gestures whenever they were in public with their friends. When it was time to come home, they would walk in separate ways and meet again in the park under the same dogwood tree and they would converse for hours. It was mostly Sakura word-vomiting about her experiments while Sasuke would look at her with abandoned fascination.

“Stop doing that,” Sakura called him out one time.

“Stop doing what?” Sasuke asked, his ember eyes never leaving her face.

“You stare too much I feel like I’m melting.”

Sasuke made a small grunt and wore his hoodie over his head to mess with her more. He waved his hands on both sides of his face, and she immediately understood the reference of a horse having its blinders on. “Good because usually I’m the one being stared at.”

Sakura reached out to his hoodie and tightened the strings around his neck. “You’re hopeless.”

He leaned forward, almost touching her lips, his face still between her palms. “Hmm, maybe I am.”

Sakura moved away just as quickly as he moved into her personal space, a hot flush creeping to her cheeks. She hated this particular situation since blushing always made her look like a cherry tomato.

“Cute.” Sasuke apparently said his thoughts aloud because he was taken aback the moment she glanced back at him. “Cool, I said cool.”

She laughed this off just as he completely covered his face inside his hoodie.

--------------------------

She visited the basement section of the library for reference materials. Her writeup was due tomorrow and she was missing a section on historical evolution of vaccines and dosages for the viral DNA she uncovered. The small library slip in her hand, she made her way to the dimly lit rows on Biology. The shelves were twice taller than her, but there were spaces in between stacked books.

Would make it very easy to spot a ghost, Sakura chided to herself. A shadow moved along the row adjacent to the Biology section, but she dismissed this as the library staff. Her fingers traced the spines of ragged books and examined the list of recommended titles in her hand. When she raised her head, ember eyes stared back at her between the spaces of the opposite row.

Hi, Sasuke mouthed. He glanced around and seeing no one, he whispered, “Can I come over to your side?”

She found it hard to stop her grin from rising. “More eyes, the better.”

It took only a few minutes for Sasuke to find all the titles in her list, but they littered around, walking in between shelves, taking one random book and flipping its pages, stopping when they find something interesting. When heavy footfalls were heard on the stairs, Sakura inclined her head, gesturing she needed to go.

Sasuke seemed to misunderstand as he pulled her through the sleeve of her cardigan to the area further behind the room, and as the shadows grew darker, and the noise became more muted, she heard the racing beat of her heart.

Finally reaching the wall, Sasuke slumped to the floor and patted the space beside him. Sakura followed suit, consciously leaving a space between them as she was slowly becoming hyper-aware of their proximity.

“How are you faring so far? Done with the requirements?” Sasuke asked, his voice low but audible enough for her.

Sakura nodded, and after beat, rolled her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be out there assisting others?”

“I believe you need more immediate help.” Sasuke pulled his knees in to rest his chin on and trained his eyes on her. “Sakura.”

“Sasuke.”

The longest minute of silence hung between them, tension strung by the stare, until Sakura broke it off with her eyes shifting to the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Flirting,” he said like it’s a matter-of-fact. “This is what they usually do to me.”

“And what should I do?” She let the words roll out of her mouth, unsure why she asked, uncertain also of what he felt. She met his gaze again.

And in that moment, he just sincerely looked at her. “Flirt back.”

--------------------------

Sakura was done for the school year. She will be officially graduating in a month, and to celebrate, she went out with their group for a sem-ender discotheque clubbing. She was gonna shoot her shot for a one-night stand with literally anyone who had chemistry with her – haha she was just kidding. As this seemed to be the final cap-off to her university life, she went all out with her clothes Sakura-style – basically a boxy cropped tea, high waisted jeans, and old heels her best friend gave to her in pity.

This was actually her first club experience, but she was glad to be with veteran friends. The first few minutes inside a closed space with bass boosted, unfamiliar crowds, and lots of skinship made her very uncomfortable. Her only reprieve was the free-flowing drinks – ironically she can handle alcohol well. The disco lights would have made it difficult to spot faces, but she found him in the dark, on the corner directly across her group, his eyes already glued on her.

She wondered if he ever forgave her for scrambling out of his presence in the reference section last time, explicitly avoiding his request to flirt back. It seemed like she worried for nothing since Sasuke raised his glass to her and mouthed congratulations. She raised her glass back, resolving to mind her own business tonight. But he kept looking, a smirk etched on his beautiful face, urging her to meet him halfway.

She didn’t need to look for an excuse as her friends suddenly pulled her into the harmless mosh pit of friendly grinding. Sakura allowed herself to move to the beat, enjoying the bubble offered by the club to lose herself for a few seconds. But she kept glancing towards his direction, his eyes looking for her in the mass of bodies. At first, the glances were mischievous, like playing hide-and-seek, then they held gravity, heavy lidded and palpable.

Sasuke was impatient, and soon enough, at her next spin on her heels, he was right behind her, his hands hovering over her arms, seeking consent to touch. Sakura turned to face him, one part shy, other parts unnerved, and she slowly encircled her arms around his neck, her eyes a definite yes. His hands went to her waist, and he brought her closer to his embrace.

“You don’t have your hoodie though,” Sakura said, a little louder over the crooning of Carly Rae Jepsen to Gimmie Love. “Someone will definitely see you.”

Sasuke closed whatever distance was between them and brought his lips to her ears. “That’s a relief then. I want to be seen with you.”

“Simp,” Sakura teased. “You’re probably expecting a confession out of me, aren’t you?” This was a long time coming and she wanted to get it over with tonight especially when she had alcohol buzzing on her side.

“I am actually,” Sasuke said. “I was hoping to beat you to it in the library last time, but you ran away. Coward.”

“What?”

“What? Didn’t you hear me?”

“You like me.” Sakura said in realization. She edged her face away from his hold to take a good look at his embarrassed face. “Oh, you really do.”

“You could be dense sometimes, Sakura.” Sasuke poked her forehead playfully, and he was rewarded with a bubbly laughter from her.

Their friends finally noticed them and the intense skinship happening. The yells and woots started to drown out the speakers.

“That took you two long enough, huh?”

“They really waited for the end of the school year to do their big reveal.”

“As if the whole school doesn’t know already.”

“What?” Sasuke and Sakura asked in unison.

“It was the constant eyesmex.”

“Really, they do it every time with no shame. It gives me secondhand embarrassment.”

“Right? Sometimes I think I need to yell get a room.”

“Maybe they’ll get a room tonight.”

“Oh my god, shut up."

🌸 It's my first time participating actively for SS Month so please go easy on me haha. Work is loosely inspired by Nevertheless webtoon (which now has a Netflix adaptation). Hope you enjoyed reading!

[colimbae]

supernatural for dummies (or theres so many supernatural memes and they are fun! but who wants to watch 15 long ass seasons to enjoy memes)

disclaimer: i watched supernatural years ago, and stopped watching at maybe season seven but will that even matter? no.

supernatural is a monster of the week show (aka each episode is a discreet story, that in this case involves actual monsters) in an america where all of the creepy monsters are real, common, and very deadly, but most people have no idea about it somehow

some people do, and they hunt them down for the good of humanity and nothing else. they dont get paid. toss a coin to your witcher people. they are imaginatively called hunters

sam and dean winchester are hunters because their dad was a hunter (and an abusive prick) and their mum got killed by a monster. sam tried to pretend like there werent monsters and went to law school, only to have his partner also die by monster (rip). dean turned up, said that their dad had gone missing, and was like “hey lets hunt again” and so they did for the rest of their (dean’s) life

important story beats for all of the show include:

dean is macho man

dean used to pick up girls CONSTANTLY. like every bar he went to. then for some reason the show runners decided to make every antagonist call dean gay in various fun ways and he started to not pick up hot girls at every bar and instead get… flirted at… by dudes

i think that was meant to somehow just be homophobic jokes but they instead just made him look gay on purpose lmao whoops

sam misses his old life :( but he’s good at researching monsters and killing them and also getting flirted with

every season they tried to ramp up the stakes like “oh no its armageddon” “oh no wheres god” (or something like that) and they had to ramp up the stakes FIFTEEN TIMES. they started way to high for that

so there was demon possession and all that jazz, a (surely) gay demon named crowley who hit on dean constantly and also the lilith? getting all the big names in here

dean went to hell at one point. cant remember why. thats not important though, only that he was there

he then woke up out of hell with a handprint scarred onto his shoulder and fear in his heart

after a lot of build up it just turned out that a (now confirmed!) gay angel in a trenchcoat decided dean looked too cute to be in hell x

castiel, our gay boy, wasn’t meant to be a big character but the fans loved him so the showrunners just. went with it. and so we watched a lot of dean (and sam) teaching their gay angel friend about life, going on roadtrips with him, hunting with him, declaring that dean wont let him die a virgin no matter what (GOTTA RAISE THE STAKES)

you know, straight activities

(i dare you to go look up how many dean/cas fics there are on ao3)

so anyway this went on for many years. idk how they didnt run out of monsters and/or stakes to raise

but in 2020 they decided that enough was enough. they would end the show at fifteen seasons (thank god) but they had to make the finale the Biggest One Yet (oh god)

so, near the end of the season, they have castiel dramatically reveal he was always in love with dean just before being whisked away to SuperHell™ while dean just stood there and watched, confused. 

this is where things get wild

this reveal, that fans had been hoping to see for OVER A DECADE was a) terrible b) killed off the gay instantly c) made dean/his actor (jensen ackles) look Home Of Phobic and, most importantly, d) was released during the wait for the 2020 presidency election results and the putin meme night 

everyone went insane, started researching everything, decided that actually jensen ackles was the true destiel stan and had tried to get a line into the show where dean reciprocated, there was a whole thing with the spanish subtitles confirming deans romantic love for cas y yo a ti, cas

then we saw the finale. dean died by tetanus nail, went to heaven, didnt see or talk about cas once,,,, sam just stopped hunting and went back to his old life, and for some ungodly reason they kept playing carry on my wayward son Over and Over again. everyone was sad

cut to today (25/06/21 nz time) and jensen ackles reveals that hes doing a prequel to supernatural, focused on the abusive dad and dead wife meeting, that he didnt tell any of his former cast members about? including the dude who played sam (jared padalecki) who found out (and then was very publicly sad about this) on twitter (OR the castiel actor, misha collins, who fun fact interned at the whitehouse as a young adult and wrote about the monica lewinsky scandal and stole security passes, apparently)

everyone has decided that the public drama from this will be the spiritual season sixteen of supernatural and are treating this like reality tv

have fun now x