#but the fact that i'm even half-trying at all shows how fucking desperate i am

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

"The Dare"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x demeter!fem!reader

Summary: You and luke have been best friends forever but after the incident things have been awkward between the two of you. Until you're forced to spend the night together...

Contains: percabeth, angst?? (i think? idk bro), swearing, fluff, kissing, ONE FUCKING BED TROPE

Word Count: 2223 did i get carried away? yes.

A/N: Im back bitches! yes i disappeared there lol, but i've resurfaced with my luke obsession (its never going to end). i've always had a small obsession with living in buses and so from that came this. i have little to no idea what im writing here im going off a random idea while half sleep deprived :)

You roll your eyes and grumble as you follow Annabeth out of the apartment.

"This is stupid," you groan. "I'm serious. Are we really going through with this shit dare?"

Annabeth just smirks, shaking her head. "Yes, y/n. We're not going to be chickens and back out," she turns around and eyes you. "It's one night, besides, Percy and I will be there."

You roll your eyes and grip the strap of your bag a little harder. One night with Luke Castellan? After the incident? No way. Nuh uh. You'd rather step on a lego than that.

"Annabeth," you groan.

"Y/n," she looks back with a dead serious look. "I will drag you there if I have to."

"It's a bus!" you almost shriek, but noticing the few people who turn their heads at you, you quiet down and pocket your apartment keys. "I'm serious. Where'd they even find a damn bus? It's a bus!"

"I know!" Annabeth grins, clearly ignoring your bad mood. "I've never stayed in a bus before. This is going to be so cool!"

"Who the fuck hires a bus out to live in?" you grumble clearly pissed.

"Percy-fucking-jackson- that's who," a voice in the distance yells. You look up and fight the wave of panic that overcomes you when you see Luke and Percy walking towards you both.

"I found the two best buses in the area!" Percy announces dropping his bag at his feet. Luke stands just behind him with a forced smile on his face.

"Wait two?" you ask suddenly, your face scrunching up.

"Yeah four of us couldn't fit in one so I hired two out," he says. "The guy was really chill about it and they're parked right next to each other!"

The cab pulls up and all four of you clamber in. Percy in the front, Luke, you and Annabeth in the back. Annabeth being squished between you and Luke.

"this fucking bet," you mutter to yourself, trying to ignore the palpable tension in the cab.

~~

Luke was basically sweating through his t-shirt. He was so glad to have a sweater on, covering his nervousness.

When the four of you had arrived at the bus guys house two pieces of news reached him. One; that while buses look big, they can't fit more than two people. Two; he was going to be sharing a bus with y/n.

Y/n.

The girl he's been desperately in love with since the day she showed up at camp.

This was either going to be really bad, or really bad. He sighs as he picks his bag and climbs into the bus you're both staying in.

It's got a nice crisp, white interior with flashes of wood throughout it. Luke drops the bag on the sofa that runs along the edge of the bus meeting with the kitchen counter.

He sighs when he hears you enter the bus. You awkwardly shuffle past him and put your bag on the bed. The bed. There is only one bed.

Motherfu-

"Y/n!" Annabeth calls out to you climbing inside and dragging you out. "They have connecting rooftop decks!" she cries and pulls herself up onto the ladder. Chattering to herself about how cool this place is, and even though you can't help it you let a smile slip onto your face.

You think you see something inside the bus but it's just Luke's back.

Sighing you clamber on behind her trying your very best to forget the fact that there is ONE BED. ONE BED. Oh gods. You smirk seeing Annabeths cheeks turn bright red when Percy whispers in her ear.

"Am I interrupting anything?" you laugh when you see her whip her head around and blush even more.

"So have you changed your mind about the buses?" Percy eyes you.

You roll your eyes and move your shoulders in what you think is a half shrug but it just ends up making you look like you're trying to do a weird dance move.

"Ahh, so you think it's a dance worthy bus?"

"No that's not what I meant-" you start but Percy jumps up and starts to shimmy.

"I'm actually gonna push you off this roof," you mutter when a presence comes up behind you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It's him. You suck in a breath and force a smile.

"So what's for dinner?"

~~

Three hours later you are all sprawled out in Percy and Annabeth's bus with boxes of pizza and containers of blue ice cream (courtesy of Percy, thank you) around you all.

"I'm not getting up ever again," Percy groans from his spot over the table next to Luke.

"Well, to make sure Percy dies in peace let's play truth or dare!" Annabeth smirks.

"No!" you and Luke both burst out at the same time.

"Relax, babies," Annabeth teases, and pats Percy on the head before groaning and pulling herself up off the seat. "I'm not going to put you through all that again," she says, picking up the boxes and putting them in the small bin.

The tension in the room suddenly increased. And you swore you could hear a pin drop. Silence descended and you slowly peel yourself off the seat. "I'm gonna go."

You slip out of the bus breathing in the night air trying your best to not blush.

Luke watches as you walk out of the bus and groans when he sees Percy and Annabeth's knowing looks.

"You couldn't be cool about it could you?" Percy asks Annabeth.

"What?" she shoots him a look. "They've got to get over it sometime! It's Luke and y/n. They're best friends. I feel like a grandma helping the two bozos get over whatever happened that day. Nobody even knows what happened!"

Luke sighs and collects himself. "Right I'll leave you two, and go deal with this incredibly awkward night by myself."

Annabeth starts to say something but Luke cuts her off. "I swear to god Annabeth! Please don't make this worse than it already is, I'm trying my very best to not focus on the fact that its weird between y/n. So please, please don't say anything to her that'll scare her off. I want to talk to her first."

Annabeth just smirks and nods pushing you out of the bus as Percy wraps an arm around her waist. "Of course lover-boy."

Luke rolls his eyes and walks over to his bus and clambers inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He makes his way over to the back of the bus.

You're sitting on the bed on top of the covers, in beach themed pj's (thank you again Percy) and playing with a small flower crown you'd made. Luke falters slightly when he sees you. You look so calm and at peace that he can't help the small smile that slips onto his lips.

Luke has been trying his very best to talk to you ever since the incident a few weeks ago - when this dare was made - but you've been avoiding him, scampering off whenever he tries to talk to you.

You still haven't noticed him and a bright grin lights up your face when you add some daisies to the crown. Luke's heart warms and he clears his turning around to dig in his bag for sleeping clothes.

Your eyes shoot up and your smile wavers. "Hey," your voice is meek. "Do you... uh want," you clear your throat. "Uh... um, which side of the bed do you want"

Luke spins around. "Uh, I'll take the couch. Don't worry about it."

You sigh, stifling your nerves. "Luke, it's a bench seat with  padding. Just choose a side of the bed."

Panic flits into his eyes and you're reminded of the way he acted the night of the incident. It's been rocky ground ever since then and you've avoided him as much as you can. Being hopelessly in love with the Luke Castellan is clearly not an easy task.

"Choose Luke."

Luke nods to the left side of the bed and you move over letting him sit on the edge of the bed. His presence calming you while at the same time putting you on edge.

"G'night Luke," you mumble and he smiles at the sleepiness of your voice. "But don't you dare come on my side of the bed."

~~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you're warm. It's cozy and you just want to snuggle into the warmth more.

The second thing is that you're lying on top of Luke's arm. If you roll to the right you'll fall off the bed and if you roll to the left you roll into him. Him, Luke. The reason you're so warm right now.

Pulling yourself up you try to move away from him but his arm wraps around your waist and you freeze. "No stay, sunflower," he mutters in a sleepy daze.

Sunflower. Luke hasn't called you that in a long time and it always makes your insides melt.

"Sunflower?" you whisper and Luke's head whips up.

"Y/n?" he says softly.

"Luke?" you whisper back.

"What are we doing?" he asks, noticing his arms around your waist and the fact that you haven't instantly pulled away.

You look up at him. His dark curly hair tousled by sleep and the focused look in his eyes making you very tempted to stay like this forever. But remembering the night of the incident you pull away and clamber out of the bed, cheeks flushing.

"Y/n," your name comes out of his mouth almost tortured.

You ignore him and continue to walk down to where the drapes aren't shut, peaking out to see if Percy and Annabeth are awake yet. And judging by the fact that it's first light.

A blanket wraps around your shoulders. You turn your head to see Luke standing there- shit, he's shirtless. Your eyes trail down his body in a daze. Woah.

Holy Shit.

Now you've seen him shirtless before, but this, this feels more personal somehow. You look up at him, an amused smirk gracing his lips.

"I'm going up onto the deck to watch the sunrise," you say, not looking at him. "Let me know when Annabeth and Percy are awake so I can get out of this dump."

You open the door and climb on to the roof deck, dragging the comforter up with you because yes, as much as you want to be all tough shit and all its freezing and you want the damn warmth - besides it smells like Luke as well.

Luke follows you outside after he puts a shirt on and plops down on the deck next to you. Without even thinking about it you open the comforter for him and he wraps it around himself as well.

"Sunflower, we need to talk."

Here it comes. The inevitable rejection.

"Okay," your voice is small.

"About that night..." he starts trailing off.

"Look," you cut him off, wanting to save yourself the embarrassment. "You don't have to say anything. I get it. That night I kinda jumped on you and I'm sorry. I get it, you were on the spot and then I started acting really weird. But I get it. You don't feel the sa-"

You feel a kiss press gently onto the corner of your lips. What? Pulling back you look at him in shock. "No, please don't humor me on this Luke." A lump forms in your throat.

"Humor you?" Luke asks, puzzled. "Sunflower, I'm not humoring you. I'm serious. That night... I freaked out, I was so surprised when you told me that you liked me, that I froze. Hearing the one thing I'd been dreaming about for years, shocked me," he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration.

"So you don't hate me?" you ask.

"Hate you? No Sunflower, I love you."

Your eyes flit up to his and in the few seconds you take to try and think of something to say Luke presses his lips to yours, pulling you close. You gasp and meet his lips with force.

Luke wraps his arms around your waist, laying you down on the deck, him hovering above you not breaking the kiss once. You wrap your arms around his neck and part your lips, moaning when he slips his tongue inside your mouth. The comforter, forgotten beside you both.

Luke kisses you as if he's never seen the sun before and you are the bright beams shining on the earth for the first time. He kisses you adoringly and groans when you slip your tongue into his mouth. He gently bites your lip and pulls back, gasping for air.

"I love you, Luke," you heave catching your breath. Luke's face breaks into a grin and he presses a soft kiss on the end of your nose.

"Love you, Sunflower."

"Love you, Luke."

He sits you up and wraps the comforter around you both. Resting your head on Luke's shoulder you settle in next to him wrapping an arm around his waist. You swear you can hear Annabeth and Percy cheering in their bus.

"I'm gonna kill them," you mutter.

"I got some ideas," he chuckles back.

[enhafilthandfiction]

Enhypen Hyungline when you cockblock them :(

Jake panicking in photo (>_<) ------⤴

A/N : Hellooo I am writing this after most of you picked it from the poll :) Hope you enjoy! I'm accepting emoji Anons! (I'm making a list!)

Pairing : Bf!Hyungline X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Suggestive, boners, just hyungline tryna get their dick wet.

Word Count : 1,026 Words (about 250 words each)

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung «

His eyes shot open, his breathing ragged as sweat beaded his forehead. Fuck. He just had a wet dream. A dream a little to realistic. "Heeseung! Ahh" he could still hear your sweet moans ringing in his ears as you fucked yourself on his cock in his dream.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying too ignore the aching between his legs. He already knew it; He was hard. He tried to ignore his erection, but the more he tried the more painful it felt.

He couldn't get off without you, even if he tried. He rolled around, gratefully finding you next to him, rolled on your side. His hands found your waist almost out of instinct, pushing you closer to his crotch.

The second your ass made contact with his clothed cock, he shamelessly started rocking his hips against you desperately for relief. "Y-Y/n" he whimpered out, hesitant but also wishing you just woke up and took care of him. "Y/n" he called out again, a little guilty for waking you up this late.

"Hee?" you asked softly, trying to turn around and face him.

"Yeah, baby it's me" he replies, biting his lips at your innocence.

"Everything oka-" you felt it.

"Y-yeah, I just need you" he admits, voice raspy with sleep.

"At 2:46 Am in the morning?" you asked, rubbing your eyes "No" you firmly added, unwrapping his hands from your hips and shutting down your eyes again.

He physically whines out and pouts "P-please baby, it hurts" he begs, though keeping his hands to himself.

"Nope, I don't feel like it tonight" you explain "stop being a horn dog and control your erections" you said, smiling to yourself and going back to sleep.

"You're so mean" he sighs to himself, accepting the fact that he got blue balled. :(

» Park Jay «

Jay knew he had a busy schedule. Lately he's been coming home late and very horny. But, being the thoughtful person he was, even if he had a raging boner, he wouldn't want to wake you up very late at night just to relieve himself.

But today, he came home fairly early. Well, even if it was half past ten at night, he found you in the kitchen, still washing the plates from dinner. This was his chance.

He makes his way over to the counter, wrapping his hands around your waist - just to back-hug you.

"Hi baby~" he greets happy to be with you after a long day of work. You greet him back, turning your head around to give him a short kiss.

"How was work?" you ask him, your hands still busy with the dishes.

"It was okay" he starts off sighing "I was thinking about you most of the time" he admitted.

"Is that why you're trying to get your dick wet?" you ask bluntly, referring to the not-so-subtle movements of his hips against you.

"I- uhh, maybe?" he feels his cheeks heat up.

"Too bad, I'm on my period" and with that you dry up your hands, lay a kiss on his flushed cheeks and go get ready for bed, leaving him staring blankly in disbelief.

Sigh, guess he's gonna have to rub one out in the shower.

» Sim Jake «

It was a lazy Friday and you and your sweet boyfriend Jake were one the couch, binge watching a random Netflix show. He was on one end of the couch, you were on another.

As the show went on, he felt himself getting more and more bored when he could be fucking you right then and there. You however, were very invested in the show, laughing at every little joke that Jake missed or paying close attention when he was just yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"Y/n, don't you think this is a little boring?" he asks all of a sudden, making you pout.

"You could've told me you weren't enjoying the show" you pouted.

"Yeah, I'd enjoy you much more" he smirked, flicking his eyebrows up and down.

"Oh" you simply say, shrugging your shoulders and resuming your show.

He stares at you in shock, expecting you to at least do something, but when you don't he makes his way to your end of the couch, burying his face in your tummy and holding your waist.

"Y/nnnn pleaseee" he begged, squeezing you harder, making you giggle "Need you"

"Nah uh, I'm not in the mood Jakey, sorry" you confirm, nevertheless stroking his hair.

He puffed out, getting up "I have to go to the bathroom" He announced, kissing your forehead and making his way to the bathroom.

At one point you turned off the television and decided to listen to his exaggerated moans as he jerked himself off, secretly laughing to yourself.

» Park Sunghoon «

You jumped in shock when Sunghoon slid the shower curtain open, sliding in behind you.

"Hoon! Jesus you scared me" you sigh, sucking a breath in.

"Jesus, am I that scary" He jokes, tickling your sides, "Booooo!"

"Shut up dummy" you laugh, turning around to face him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. His hands rubbed all over your back, before landing on your ass, giving it a squeeze. "Perv" you roll your eyes playfully.

"You have a nice ass babe" he admits, giving it another squeeze to emphasize his point.

"So do you" you say, reaching for his ass and giving it a light slap.

"Heyyyy" he whines, swatting your hands away. You giggle at his blushing cheeks, pinching them. It's only when you realise why he's blushing after feeling his tip nudge your belly.

"Extra perv" you giggle, watching as he tries to defend himself.

"It's not my fault your ass is so soft" he blames you ass of growing him an erection, making you shrug your shoulders.

"Unlucky for you, I'm not a fan of shower sex" you say, sliding the curtain open and getting out, leaving him hanging with a raging boner. "B-but" he sighed when you he realised you were already out of the room.

He better have a good mental image of your nice ass cause he's gonna need it to get himself off.

Hi, thanks for reading till the end! I hope you enjoyed this post! Have a good day/night and remember that ily <333

If you enjoyed this post, you could support this blog by tipping me here! Anything it greatly appreciated.

[cobragardens]

Holy Kittens, Y'all: My Favorite Good Omens Moment Has Gotten EVEN MORE ROMANTIC

Okay so I wrote this post about my favorite moment in Good Omens, and the stuff people are pointing out in the reblogs and comments is blowing my freaking mind, and I HAVE to show you how beautifully this all fits together, like I am flailing at my desk about this.

@vidavalor points out this gif from @soft-ange-aziraphale [Source]:

Here it is in sequence (gifs 1-4 from Fuck Yeah Good Omens):

I can't stop laughing over Aziraphale's smile, which shows, as @quoththemaiden says, that he's "utterly delighted with himself" and knows perfectly well that he's minxing Crowley; and this tiny extension of the moment convinces me even more that Crowley is desperately fighting a smile himself here.

Actually there's a lot in @quoththemaiden's comment that's insightful and well-put:

Totes agree with all of this.

And then. AND THEN!

I knew Crowley was trying to communicate something with this Shakespeare line, but I didn't know what until @paperbunny and @musingsofmaisie put it out there: Crowley is complimenting Aziraphale here, telling him he's enjoying being in Aziraphale's company, telling him his humor worked.

Remember how I keep banging on about how much equivocation Crowley does? This is more equivocation. In 1601, Richard Burbage was 34 years old, so age hasn't had the chance to wither his infinite variety yet. The stupidity of demons and the ignorance of angels regarding the human aging process prevent surveillance from noticing the poor applicability of this line to Burbage, but since the first half of the line fits Aziraphale (who does not age at all) more than Burbage (who is merely not yet old) it stands a chance of indicating to Aziraphale that Crowley is speaking about him. And the underlying true meaning of this equivocal statement would be A DIRECT RESPONSE TO MY FAVORITE MOMENT: Even though I have known you so long, you still surprise and delight me.

(Crowley's Antony & Cleopatra line also accomplishes something else important: it gets William Shakespeare to go away so they can speak privately, because Shakespeare doesn't want them to see him writing it down.)

A Dip Into Speculation

I don't think the evidence for it is binding enough to say for sure, because the evidence is really just that it fits together so nicely and lines up so well with A&C's coded romantic messages in 1793; the (pretty overt, actually, I mean damn) romance in 1827; the size and nature of the fight in 1867; the yeah, really overt romance in 1941; and in 1967; and yes okay now that I'm thinking about it the whole series, but I have this View about how the rest of the 1601 scene goes.

And in fact there is Word of Gods that could be interpreted as evidence against this little pet headcanon I have, though it doesn't necessarily have to be:

Here's my assertion: Aziraphale volunteers to go to Edinburgh for Crowley. Crowley cheats the coin toss to accept Aziraphale's offer and to keep up appearances as a demon. Rather than making a deal with (or asking a favor of) an angel, he's 'cheating' him (without the angel's knowledge, but with his consent), which "moves the dials" of evil a bit and would also make Aziraphale appear less at fault if this instance of the Arrangement is ever discovered by Heaven.

This can coexist with Gaiman's statement, above, that it doesn't even occur to Aziraphale that Crowley cheats the toss. THEE ongoing leitmotif of Aziraphale's view of Crowley is that he thinks of Crowley as much more genuinely evil and much less in need of ways to create cover as evil than Crowley actually is.

(Which is interesting, given that he also clearly thinks that Crowley is not as evil as he pretends to be, that he is and wants to do good, and that he deserves to be an angel again. [There is a whoooole nother essay slowly curdling in the churn in my head about how Aziraphale is obliged to practice doublethink and how that stunts his personal development because that's what happens when people aren't free.])

Here's what I mean when I say Aziraphale volunteers.

Does Aziraphale ask in this tone because he is actually feeling suspicious and curt, or because he has to sound suspicious and curt? He could be perfectly willing to do Crowley a favor and would still need to sound the way he does. It's difficult for me to believe this guy--

--or this guy--

--are really all that bothered by the idea that Crowley might want something from him.

Crowley's response sounds like a(n unconvincing) protest of innocence. Maybe it is. But he doesn't disagree with the premise on which Aziraphale based his question, which means Aziraphale now has confirmation: Crowley called the meeting because he wants to ask Aziraphale to do him a favor.

Close your eyes and listen to Sheen's delivery of this line. The way he says it is so soft it's got no judgy angelic sting to it at all. Is this really a prissy answer to Crowley's semi-rhetorical question? Or is Aziraphale using the cover of a prissy answer to ask Crowley, Is what you want related to the no-good you're up to, i.e., demon work?

Either way, Crowley answers:

Is Crowley making a demonic jibe at Aziraphale in return to "You're up to no good," or is he telling Aziraphale, Yes, what I want from you is related to my work, and to your work, esp. what you've got on right now?

Aziraphale volunteers some information about his schedule and what it is he's got on right now.

--he says, and the velvety way Crowley says "Ohhh," tells us--and could tell Aziraphale--that Crowley already knows this. In this coded communication I'm suggesting, Crowley's tone on "Oh" confirms to Aziraphale that the thing he wants help with does indeed have to do with Aziraphale's trip to Edinburgh.

So Aziraphale gives Crowley his travel details: Yeah, I have a couple of blessings and a minor miracle to perform. It's going to suck; I have to ride a horse.

Crowley's like, yeah, riding horses does suck. You have my sympathies. (Phrasing it as an insult to God: "Major design flaw if you ask me.") And then he says, I have to go to Edinburgh too this week. Tempt a clan leader into stealing some cattle.

And here's where I think Aziraphale volunteers to do Crowley's Edinburgh job for him:

If, as I propose, Aziraphale understands already at this point that Crowley is asking him to take Crowley's Edinburgh temptation, then this response tells Crowley he's willing to do so.

And then they have a little bit of kayfabe theater and a little bit of miscommunication between themselves. Crowley suggests Aziraphale take Crowley's Edinburgh job. Aziraphale protests "You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer you're implying," even though, as Crowley immediately points, out, they've now done this dozens of times.

Now, obviously Aziraphale is pretending innocence here with "You cannot actually be suggesting," etc. But he's not pretending innocence to Crowley. He can't be: Crowley knows about the dozens of other times just like Aziraphale does. So the protest of innocence is for surveillance; it's the spirit, not the letter, of the protest itself that's genuine: I am reluctant about this.

And Crowley misses it.

He reads the surface layer of the equivocation, the Heavenly pearl-clutching; and the surface layer is where he argues. "We've done it before," he points out. "Dozens of times now. The Arrangement--"

But Aziraphale, visibly frightened and looking around, cuts him off. "Don't say that." Getting caught in an Arrangement would be much, much worse than getting caught in a one-off deal.

Why is this suddenly a problem? says Crowley. You know we've been getting away with this; you know they don't check up.

It's not pearl-clutching at all; Aziraphale is worried for Crowley's safety.

When Crowley says--

--is his tone half wheedling and half impatient because that's how he feels, or because it must sound like that? Is it soft only out of courtesy to the other people in the Globe?

There's no difference to the outcome of this scene or the story as a whole whether this romantic interpretation of the Edinburgh bickering is correct, because we've already got a solid base of evidence that the characters have romantic feelings for each other and show each other affection and care in this scene. In my opinion this interpretation fits the tone of the rest of the Globe scene better than only the face-value interpretation. What Gaiman and Mackinnon say about Crowley cheating the coin toss and Aziraphale not being aware of it can still easily apply.

While these three statements together aren't enough evidence to convict, so to speak, if my initial argument about the interpretation of "Buck up!" and Crowley's reaction is correct--and the cool stuff other people have found and pointed out suggests it is AND explains Crowley's Antony & Cleopatra line--this reading of the Edinburgh bickering is, if not ironclad, at least valid.

And holy shit, people, that makes this scene romantic af from beginning to end. I could not have asked for a better little gift from my fellow humans. 🤯I have such a better understanding of the entire 1601 scene because people from anywhere with an Internet connection sat down and spent their time sharing their ideas, and it just makes the lit-nerd lobe of my brain so happy. I love you all, you romantics and nerds and perverts.

[izzysillyhandsy]

It is finally time for me to try writing about The Scene.

There's so much happening and changing within seconds. I feel that the whole history of Edward and Izzy is played out here, for (from their point of view) the last time.

We start off with Ed waking Izzy up, taking out his pistol (to Izzy's confusion) and then handing it to Izzy.

They are close, Ed is calm and fully in the moment. It is such an intimate moment, the way Ed tilts his head down in line with the pistol, never breaking eye contact.

And Izzy, who at first was trying to fend Ed off, now looks at him like this:

What is actually going on here? It seems like a return to something they've done before, like a memory of a tender moment. Of course, this is right after Ed tells Iz about the dream. Maybe it's just the closeness, or the fact that this must be the first moment in forever where Izzy is the sole focus of Ed.

But I feel that there is a story there, something in their past that makes Izzy - what is it - happy? Nostalgic? Regretful? I don't see turned on here, it's much softer than that.

"Good for you." (slightly sneering) "It was good for me." (completely sincere)

You don't need me to tell you this has more than one meaning.

Ed touches Izzy's hand as he stands up, "It was just what the doctor ordered."

The first half ends - these were the good times. Spending time together with weapons aimed at each other :). I think this was when both were young and relatively innocent, when life was exciting and the two of them were best friends, possibly even closer than that.

But now the second half starts.

"Anyway, it wasn't even like that."

Also has a double meaning.

"No, in my dream - I was standing. Just like this."

Ed turns his back to Izzy, making this an execution instead of an act of intimacy.

Izzy first raises the pistol, laughs brokenly and desperately. It feels like this was also a situation they'd both been in before. The laugh sounds like "No, we're not doing this. Once was enough."

I think a similar scene happened when they were young, and the next bit strengthens this theory for me.

Izzy puts his hand over half his face, his voice changes and he calls Ed "Eddie" for the first and only time in the show:

"Oh, you're scared, Eddie? To sc- to scared to do it yourself?"

Hornigold also calls Ed "Eddie", and I think Izzy is kind of channeling Hornigold here. Maybe, back on Hornigold's ship, Ed was ordered to execute someone and couldn't. And maybe Izzy had to do it for him. Maybe Izzy had to do lots of traumatizing things for Ed. Maybe the person executed was someone Izzy and/or Ed cared about. And maybe Ed started to resent Izzy for it. The way Ed is spreading his arms out, the way it seems almost staged - it's like Ed is saying "kill me like you killed him".

OR maybe this is how Izzy pep-talked Ed into becoming Blackbeard, which would be much darker (and harder for me as an Izzy apologist). But Izzy telling Stede that Ed's complete breakdown is like 50% his fault may point to events in the past where Izzy thought he had to push Ed into the Kraken-zone to secure their and their crew's survival. Maybe he did this often, especially at the beginning of their Blackbeard fuckery.

What is remarkable though is that Izzy hides his face with his hand, then forces out the words, almost choking on them. This clearly has importance and history - nothing so far in the whole show was forced out so violently - so I am heavily leaning towards a traumatic experience for Ed and Izzy both. It definitely crashes Izzy down from his nostalgia-high real quick.

Now Izzy's voice changes back to his own, but he speaks really fast and without inflection, trying to get everything over with:

"Go on clean up your own fucking mess I'm not doing it I've been doing it all my fucking life."

(without thanks I might add)

"Fuck off."

Izzy's finally, finally had enough.

Ed acknowledges, resignedly, and leaves. I think he expected it to go this way.

Izzy shoots himself. I think Ed also expected this.

Ed says he loved him best he could. It's over. He goes to his own death.

This scene is only a few minutes long, but as I said in the beginning, I think they're reliving their whole relationship here, first the good times (which are quickly devalued - "But it wasn't even like that") and the bad times (I did this for you, but for nothing - "Fuck off").

As Ed says to Frenchie, he's had closure with Izzy. He's shown him what it was like for him. Izzy's also had closure with Ed. From now on, Ed has to carry the weight of his decisions himself.

Both die.

(and then both indestructible fuckers come back)

[nabaath-areng]

I don't know how to handle breaking down like this, I was free for a while from the bouts of complete and utter inability to move and react to my environment for between an hour to several hours at a time while my heart and pulse go absolutely haywire, I have barely any energy to keep up a conversation without feeling like I have to disconnect from my body entirely, I feel like all I do these days is despairing over the fact that I don't know what's wrong, that I'm not strong enough to fight for any sort of help and worrying that by the time someone cares enough to look it will be too late for me.

I know full well that I've had the means to recognize when something's wrong completely beaten out of me and it terrifies me to think that I won't be able to distinguish between daily shit vs actual danger. I don't recognize myself, I don't know how to feel normal, my physical breakdown is stealing everything I love from me and I'm starting to lose hope.

My throat hurts so fucking bad because the tears want to explode but they can't cause I've lost almost all ability to show both pain and negative emotion like crying. I'm trying to stay normal, to force myself to do the things I love, but I get so exhausted and I feel like a burden on everyone I know for being a mere shell of my former self. Even when I was broken down from psychosis people told me that I made them laugh. I used to be on the phone with my mom for up to 3 hours every time. Now I can't even read her messages without feeling horrible dread about being unable to mentally conjure up a response.

I'm starting to resent my home even though I love it because it's starting to turn into my prison. At least before I could leave the house and go out. Now I have to debate whether or not it's safe for me to shower half of the time. I fall from the stars more and more often nowadays. I keep passing out and injuring myself, both small dips and full out collapses. My hearing and vision both black out more often than before. My foot is deforming itself, and so is my knee it seems. My thumbs are broken beyond repair. Brain gets so foggy I can't do anything but stare into nothing.

I struggle with speech more and more, language is getting harder, and I struggle more and more in games including FFXIV because I lose all ability to move my hands and grasp what they should do or where they should be or move. I am struggling to keep my composure when upset more than usual or I get so apathetic that the thoughts I get scare me with how uncharacteristically negative they are. One day activity requires several days to recover from.

I keep trying to not talk about it cause I don't wanna burden anyone or make everything about myself to be this, but god it's turning out that way anyway and it's not like I'm even good at pretending that this isn't killing me on a fundamentally soul deep level.

I want to be okay so fucking bad and I want to be happy and I wanna draw and write and play games and talk to and hang out with friends and loved ones and take walks and grocery shop and cook and bake and so much more. I don't know how to not feel useless now that I'm losing the extremely few things I actually had potential with.

Maybe my worth as a person does not lie in my productivity but I guess I'm a bad disabled person then for finding it hard to be happy about losing everything I fought to stay alive for. I don't even know what I'm saying at this point I'm so tired and sad and

I don't know what to do about it and I don't know how to make things better even though I'm desperate to figure something out that doesn't require me to humiliate myself before healthcare providers that scold and berate me for being a stupid autistic hypochondriac tranny addicted to google and benefits. More and more it seems like the most likely outcome is a downwards spiral of this until there's nothing left and every part of me is beyond repair and salvation. A slow and painful demise outside my control. I don't know how to process the possibility that I might not get to live as long as I maybe should.

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - Saint Elliot

CW: Elliot being an opportunistic little shit, toxic relationships

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Cups piled up on the foldable table next to the couch, a skyline of liquors and spirits next to them. Elliot plucked the tablecloth neatly over the corners. It looked great, though nobody knew for how long. In a few minutes, the first guests were about to arrive and with them the reason for his detour into the unknown.

He had been the first to appear at Sahra's doorstep and offered to help prepare the living room while they caught up. Like her invitation, the reason for his attendance surprised Elliot - in a way that should've worried him more than it did.

"Oh, and I need to give you a fair, I wouldn't call it a warning, but still," Sahra stammered and put a bowl of chips down, "She has her special kind of humor, so just…"

Lie there and take it?

"…don't think that she's serious about it or anything!"

"When that's all it takes for the Philharmonic to treat me to a seat, your friend can tar and feather me all evening. Seriously, if she's into that."

Sahra's proposal had sounded a bit unappetizing to Elliot, at first. Radio-silence had taken over since their graduation, sometimes proximity was the only reason to keep contact, until she made the first step. He was always willing to work hard and climb the ladder, an ethos as thankless as it was childish.

On the contrary, Sahra made the rounds rather frequently.

Naturally, Elliot would rather bite his tongue off than admit the slight twinge of jealousy whenever reading yet another feature article about Sahra's performances. Caught between angry customers whining about gas prices and spreadsheets, maybe this Amber could really be the steppingstone he desperately waited for.

"I can't promise you anything," Sahra turned around, nervously chewing on her lip, "but I'll give you three guesses why I am where I am."

"Because you're qualified, I hope?"

"Of course," Sahra replied bemused, "but sometimes a few links grease the gears."

"Thank you for the opportunity, then."

"Thank Amber, when the time comes." Or her father, financing half of the philharmonic's budget. "I hope you leave a good impression with the board members, our current guy is just… Ugh, don't get me started."

The audition started next month. Sahra was right, it didn't hurt to give it a try.

--------

The night passed by quite differently than expected. Not only were Sahra's friends the kind of personalities Elliot usually avoided like the plague, they also were not ashamed to show this fact off. 

As soon as all formalities had been provided, Rhys, a long-term student of mechanical engineering and incredibly proud of it, demanded a round of poker. Real money as wager, that goes without saying.

Elliot considered him to be joking, at first. What pretentious fuck would actually suggest that? His decision to decline made him unpopular quicker than one could say "trust fund baby", a rough start to a night he couldn't wait to be over already.

Sahra, also in no position to finance their games, meanwhile kept herself busy with the drink supply.

"Anyone else?" she asked, empty bottles of wine in her hand with labels Elliot didn't dare try to pronounce.

The reason for his farce, however, kept herself in the center of the group to sprinkle insults like glitter among them. Mostly about Rhys being a sore loser and his girlfriend Liz, a woman as sharp as a marble.

Awkward. If nothing else, Elliot thought, this is awkward.

"I'm out," Amber sighed. Cutting her losses early, she shifted and slipped towards the corner he silently took a seat in. She kept her eyes on the game, but not without pursing her lips at every stupid joke coming from its direction.

"So you're an old school friend, huh?"

The chance he waited for. Elliot cleared his throat and switched over to the offensive: "Yeah, we met in summer music camp."

"Music camp? Wow, that explains why you're such a party animal, huh." She wordlessly mustered Sahra flitting from room to room. "Was she always like that?"

Busy uncorking another bottle for her friends? With every second, the little voice at the back of his mind doubted that they were even that.

"The mom of the group," Amber explained, as if they were all unable to stand and top up their drinks themselves. Nothing too surprising, though, especially when most of them only found an amused grin when hearing about Elliot's days in the office.

"Yeah." He insistently tried to return her attention, "How did you guys meet?"

Amber shrugged. "Here and there. They all came around one day, and we're hanging out ever since."

"That's nice." Ice cubes sloshed against the walls of his cup.

Well surrounded from all sides, Elliot had never felt so alone in his life. Better that nothing, right?

Minutes stretched into hours of draining small-talk, and minute per minute, Elliot's hopes of sneaking into this circle for certain benefits kept on dwindling. Suddenly, a shrill laugh ripped them from their chat. Liz waved her phone from side to side, short flashes of an auditorium clear to everyone around her.

"Oh my god, that's you!" she exclaimed and jumped up and down on the couch, like she just won the lottery. Seconds later, the scattered group gathered around Liz to catch a better view of the video.

This all too familiar scene stirred Elliot awake. Oh, fuck.

Not his recitals. His elementary school had taped one or the other, used in its online promotions in exchange for free lunches. Evelyn had always known how to bargain for her son.

"Wait! That's from years ago, I-"

Behind the screen, the boy gave a little bow, music sheets nearly slipping out of the folder he had tucked under his arm.

"Good evening, my name is Elliot Ribera," he chirped, "Today, I will be performing Cimarosa's Sonata No. 42 in D Minor for you." 

Seriously?!

Then, he bowed again, nervously eyeing the audience to his left. Where Mom sat. 

Memories came over Elliot in a flood: how nervous he had felt playing in front of maybe thirty people, how the sheets refused to flip, how his legs couldn't even reach the pedals-

"Aww, so cute," Rhys pouted. The clip showed them nothing Elliot had to feel embarrassed about; besides a rough start and a few missed modulations, yet his face still blushed red in humiliation. 

"So cute," Amber parroted behind him and tapped the bridge of her nose, "Maybe you want to show us a video of your talents now - if you count snorting lines off Liz' tits as that."

Pixels of Elliot's past self chinked Cimarosa all throughout Sarah's house. Yes, this was awkward and so much more.

Yet, out of nowhere, the tension broke with Rhys' dirty laugh. If anything, these friends', if one could even call them such, had in common was the dislike of one another.

Enough now. Enough underhanded jabs, enough shallow gossip. Elliot was about to excuse himself, because of a headache he thought up, when Amber linked arms and swooped him to the side.

"I have an old box like that at home," she whispered in his ear after the rest got busy with another round of poker. Of course, she does. "How about a private performance?"

--------

Escorting her home was one thing, yet performing by hook and crook to maybe somehow let her connections help him gain an advantage suddenly felt natural to Elliot.

Trying to ignore how massive the house she had led him to was, he quickly spotted the promised piano at the back of the living room. Wiping over the old wood felt so familiar. Why not strum a bit for her? 

"Alright, Amber," he smiled and lifted the piano lid, "What would you like to hear?"

The lady of the house faltered, half-up the stairwell to the first floor already, and looked back at him in bewilderment. A long pause stretched out between them, until her face finally twisted into confusion:

"I kinda don't care for the music thing you got going. Sorry, I guess."

Didn't. Care. He should have stayed home today, should have saved himself from this complete disaster.

"Okay…" Perhaps she just needed some idiot to bring her home safely. "Then that's the part where I say goodnight. Anyway, it was such a pleasure meeting you."

"Oh, was it?" she barked, irritated. 

At this, Elliot was speechless. The one chance he had tonight never existed to begin with, a big ruse that leeched any kind of patience left in him. And now, this.

Amber leaned on the handrail, focusing on her guest down at her feet: "So, the whole night you suck up to me and when I give you a free pass you'd rather just piss off?"

Free pass? Not this again.

"No. God, no, this is not what I wanted-"

"But you want something. You all do. I don't mind, but don't you even have the courtesy to fuck me for it? How boring. Looks like we both don't get what we want tonight."

She looked offended, Elliot realized, offended that he didn't use her in a way she liked. To prostitute himself for a better likelihood to perhaps get a part? 

Thank you, Sahra, but I waive.

"That's fine by me." Elliot slipped back into his jacket, voice firm: "But to be clear, I'm not-"

Her eyes widened. In the blink of an eye, her face turned pale and Amber collapsed on the stairs. 

Elliot jumped forward, barely catching her before hitting her temple on the banister. Shit! Both his arms wrapped around her shoulders, struggling to slowly pull her to the floor and always careful to protect her head.

"Hello?" Elliot laid her down and lifted both her legs up over his shoulder, "HELLO?"

Never meet up with old schoolmates again. Never, never, never!

After a few grueling seconds, Amber's eyes fluttered back open. She coughed, once or twice, and growled weakly: "Not again…"

"Should I call someone?" Elliot's heartbeat danced on his tongue, too scared of letting her go, "Do you need an ambulance?"

"Yes. No. It's just this blood pressure thing I've got." Rolling her eyes, in annoyance not distress, it was her turn to be embarrassed about nothing now. 

After making sure her consciousness wouldn't leave him again, he ran across the room and back to her. From off the couch, Elliot had swiped a few pillows and stuffed them under her head and knees. More and more, Amber found her voice despite the scare still shaking her to the core: "Don't you dare take a pic."

He halted, then scoffed. "Why would I? What the hell is wrong with you people?" 

Strangely, she just snickered. Chortling at first, until it turned into full-blown giggles, like her request wasn't disturbing enough.

"That's not funny, Amber." Elliot ran a stressed hand through his hair, "Someone needs to have an eye on you."

"Good luck with that. Chase went out, and my parents won't come back until next week."

Great, fucking stellar. He knew what he was about to demand from himself: "I don't want to leave you alone tonight."

"Really now?" Amber squinted over to him and raised one eyebrow. "I'm fine, dude. Probably."

"Not if you might faint again."

Amber didn't mind his objection, suddenly, and gave a short nod. He helped her up onto the couch to settle down beside each other. In the soft light of the chandelier, Amber appeared much smaller. Frightened, maybe.

"The house gets so quiet at night."

Perplexed, Elliot gave her more space to study the carpet fibers intensely. She was a lot gentler when alone and none of her minions swarmed around her. Cute, he might say.

"Is Chase your boyfriend or…"

"Brother," she clarified.

"Got it." Lucky him, nobody would beat him up for coming home with her. That's what he got for messing around, so he might as well make the best out of it.

"You looked disappointed there for a second, Elli!" she cackled. Not nastily, not dismissively. And though Elliot only rolled his eyes at the nickname, he thought that this cheesy side fit her quite well. 

It would stay the only jab in the following hours, as minutes turned into hours again, this time drifting past like a dream. Elliot didn't play for her that night, a temporary goodbye at dawn forcing them apart, but promised to meet her again the next weekend. After all, they wanted to make up for the rough evening. 

A decision Elliot never not regretted.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername, @canislycaon24

[llynwen]

hey I saw your tags abt reading the MM book too and I desperately need to hear abt it from more ppl that also shoved it up their ass. Thoughts?

oh brother you have no idea just how many thoughts i have about it.

i really didn't wanna read the book because i knew it was going to make me go insane, but then a friend of mine who i'm trying to force to watch the show (i beg of you martyna. it's so good) decided to get it for me for my birthday.

from the very first few fucking pages i was Perplexed, to put it lightly. i was expecting a light and breezy autobiography with some silly childhood anecdotes and maybe behind the scenes tea about the hollywood crowd. Instead i was served almost 300 pages of trauma dumping, philosophical ruminations and some very TMI info that i wish i never read. i rated this book 5/5 on goodreads btw.

the first thing that really knocked me on my ass was this (i'm ignoring the ketchup story i DON'T want to think about that)

this should've given me an idea about that kind of book this was gonna be. yet i continued on, blindly, thinking, okay maybe he just wanted to get that out there. more power to him. whatever. (not really).

then the motherfuckers starts explaining his little philosophy, the titular green lights, right? and i'm like, yeah. i agree. you're correct. but why did it take you 50 years to figure this out? i'm 24 and i've been living by this very logic for years. Anyways. i continue reading.

now, bro spends half the book trying to convince us his parents were NOT abusive. i disagree. i think he has stockholm syndrome. i hope he's in therapy. i don't wanna think about this either.

now, this is where i started catching on that he was lying to me. i know it took me an embarrassingly long time, but i was giving him the benefit of the doubt. the undead parrot and the 13 story tree house, however, was what made me go Wait A Damn Minute.

yeah, turns out this book isn't a memoir, it's a mix between a magical realism novel, a self help handbook and a philosophical treaty. served to you on really nice paper (i mean Really nice. i appreciate that) with important words in bold, italics or even sometimes in green (which i appreciate even more, since i am tragically dyslexic).

after establishing that all men do is, in fact, lie, i gained a different outlook on the whole thing (i swear i need to read it again, this time in full englit major mode, make some notes and dissect this thing like it's shakespeare).

i like how candid he is about kind of getting lucky with the whole famous thing. he really took that slutty slutty waist and peculiar bone structure of his and said I'm Gonna Make A Career Out Of This. good for him.

he is, however, just a man, and at the end of the day, you can really tell he sees the world through his privilege. the white straight cis christian rich and famous thing kinda sways him into obnoxious territory in some parts, and it had me seething with rage. like, i too would love to go hike through south america because it came to me in a dream. i'd looooove to go visit my favorite unknown artist in a country on the other side of the world. i was half hoping to read about a piranha biting his shlong off when he went skinny dipping in the motherfucking amazon. (un)fortunately, no dice.

the david and goliath story made me chuckle out loud. he makes it Just believable enough to make you think about it. i like being made to think.

the philosophics continue in the form of the single most cursed wall of chicken scratches i ever did see. i sat there, straining my eyes, trying to decipher this shit, and i'm pretty sure he was on something when he wrote it because all of this

could be summed up with "you've gotta leave your comfort zone to learn more about yourself and the world." suck my cock dude.

i Really like how he talks about his wife. but then again, when you look at her, there really isn't any other way of talking about her.

i mean. how the Fuck did his stinky ass pull this goddess. lucky bastard.

now, the 3ish pages where he talks about filming the show (which was the whole reason i even started reading) are criminally underwhelming. i was hoping for a sneak peak into that elusive 450 page manuscript (i will Steal your laptop matthew. watch out), but instead i got a one liner of him being like i wanna play rusty because he's the specialest little girl in the whole entire world and the producers going yeah fine. THAT'S IT. still mad about this, especially because after that he hits you with the love letter to new orleans. i mean be serious. he should Not be allowed to write shit like that.

to summarize, i think he might be a genius, or he might be insane. he is probably both. i want to shove this book up his ass for many reasons, for example him making me learn the names of his kids (i hate knowing things about celebrity kids. leave them out of this) or for making me agree with him. because i do. agree. I don't appreciate his continued efforts to convert me to christianity and i think he's disgustingly obnoxious in some places, but the truth is he has a real cool outlook on a lot of things and i'm very mad that i now respect this bastard for more than his acting skills. i would like to buy him a six pack and listen to him talk about it. i'd love to argue with him, too. i can recommend this book to everybody who feels like they need to experience some psychic damage and maybe an existentialist crisis alongside it. on Very Nice Paper.

[mermaidsirennikita]

almost done with Darling Beast, the Maiden Lane I remembered least and considered the most mid of the series (there's not a BAD ML, but this was the weakest imo, having... not read the very first book yet oops I'm sorry I should but it's one of like two full length Hoyts I have left!!!).

and it's so good????? Like we have:

--a giant ugly hero (I love an ugly hero, especially when he's Big) who can't speak for the first half

--a kid who actually works mostly because he's there to be like "THIS GIANT MAN I FOUND IN THE WOODS IS MY BEST FRIEND" while the hero is like "well I guess"

--SEKRETS

--some legit rockin' sex scenes, and I did remember that this book had great sex scenes, but I forgot that it included like, him launching onto her puss with one leg thrown over his shoulder, him fucking this girl on like a table while being like "ONE DAY I'LL FUCK YOU IN A PLACE WHERE PEOPLE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM", this whole thing where she's like bent over in yet another inopportune location, "presenting herself like a mare"

--because, and I should add this, one of the best things about the way Elizabeth Hoyt writes sex scenes is that she tiptoes riiiight up to the point where her descriptions might seem a little gross? but she has the balance you need, so instead it's very EARTHY, and even though you're like "oh, like a horse?" (and it's not that she writes the most insane sex scenes EVER, but I do think they kind of get closer to a Grace Callaway-type scene than most trad historical authors, and they are...... pretty hot) it's like................... I don't know how to say this other than like, her writing evokes the way real sex IS, while maintaining a degree of romance novelocity; like, real sex is kind gross but also fun and most of all very physical even when you're emotionally connecting with someone, and I think a lot of romance authors do miss that mark and she never does

--my point being that the sex scenes in this book are very good

--there's a whole murder plot but there's also the fact that Asa Makepeace is still desperately trying to make his THEATER ENTERPRISE work because otherwise his holier than thou family will LAUGH AT HIM FOR SURE, and then you have random Valentine Napier cameos where he like, cackles evilly but also helps the leads like a horrible fairy godmother

--she's setting up the next book by having James Trevillion, the Maiden Lane Jim Gordon, desperately try to be an effective officer of the law even though he got like medically retired, and at the same time he's like "NOBODY TOUCH THIS GIRL CHILD I'M PROTECTING" because he has to think of her as a girl child and not the grown woman she is because otherwise he'd have to admit that he wants to throw down

--towards the end my boy, Maximus, Duke of The Home Gym, BatDuke He Is The Night TM, shows up to be like "everyone leave my wife's stupid twin brother and whoever this bitch he's with is alone, or there will be consequences", and basically they tell Trevillion that they called Maximus rather than THE MAIDEN LANE POLICE because he'd be "more effective"

--and I'm like AT WHAT???? like normal ducal intimidation???? or were they like "worst case scenario Maximus kills this man because he's, you know, CRAZY, and because he's a duke nobody will arrest him"????

anyway great book would recommend am going to raise my rating on GR and StoryGraph for sure and idk maybe listen to a billion more of these books all over again

[platonically-loving-alastor]

Hazbin Top 5

I was going to make a top 10 character list, but realized after the first 5 I didn't know where to place anyone- But in case you're curious, some contenders for the remaining 6-10, in no specific order, were Angel Dust, Charlie, Emily, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. Now here's my top 5 with reasonings and appreciation for them all!

5. Lucifer

Obviously bro is relatable, not only for his awkwardness and hyperfixations, but he also happens to be the same height as I am at about 5'2" (according to the sources I've seen). Being the same height as Lucifer is my biggest flex lmao- I still have no idea why his hatred of Alastor seemed so instant. Like yeah, Alastor was trying to annoy him by being a better dad to Charlie, but the whole 'fuck you' moment happened before any of that started. Did he just sense the bad vibes off of him or what? Anyway, his awkwardness and desperation to connect with his daughter make for probably my favorite lines of the episode, such as the "Hey bitch!" and the whole "You like girls? So do I!" situation followed by him being so distracted he called Vaggie by the wrong name. Perfect comedy

4. Lute

I love her an insane amount for someone who shows up so relatively little with so few lines, but here we are. I've already made an entire post about her, here it is if you want it, so I'll keep this short (Spoiler alert: I failed). I actually don't think I mentioned just how attractive this woman is, so let's get that out there right now. I know I'm not the only one who thinks this, about half the people I've seen react to Episode 6 have seen Lute without her mask, took a pause of recognition, and we all knew what they were thinking before the pressed play. Istg my taste in women (and sometimes even men, thanks Vox) is just "Can they murder me without a second thought? Yes? That's hot". My favorite line of hers is when she's hyping up the army with Adam and says "Rip Vaggie's cunt mouth out her ass!" and even Adam has to be like "damn girl chill what the hell-" She's so feral I love her so much

3. Rosie

Everyone needs a Rosie in their lives. I don't just mean a regular therapist, I mean a person in your life, friend or family member, who will talk you out of your downward spiral and gently call you out on why those paranoid thoughts are actually pretty unrealistic (the other side of the same coin would be Husk, he's just more blunt about it). I'm also still completely convinced she has some interesting and sad backstory based on how she was talking to Charlie and I need to know about it so bad. "It can be difficult to admit to things you're not proud of, especially if those things hurt the ones you love" Ma'am what did you do? I find it hard to believe it's just about the cannibalism. I don't know if in this instance, she's the one who hurt someone or someone else hurt her and she was the one who failed to forgive them, but either way I need answers.

2. Vox

Y'all know I love this man in more ways than one, he one the hottest Hazbin character poll for a reason. But I swear everything about this man makes me love him as a character more. First, I always love a technology based character, his electricity powers and literal screen head are the coolest thing in the world to me. He's voiced by Christian Borle, which was a fantastic choice, along with the glitched effect his voice gets when he's mad, I love to see it. Apparently it's also canon he can fly (with rocket shoes)?? He just keeps getting the best character design choices possible, this can't possibly be fair- The fact his first introduction was being done with Val, telling him to call tf down, and treating him like a child ("Now that's why they pay you the big bucks!") was a pretty good first impression for me lol, made even funnier when it was followed by him losing all sense of rationalism when Alastor entered his line of sight.

1. Alastor

The character my blog is named after, this should not be a surprise. Shockingly enough, despite my obsession for him and acknowledgement of his charming nature and generally attractive design, I' do not simp for him in the slightest'm not personally attracted to him in the slightest. I simp for a TV and yet apparently deer man with permanent smile is where I draw the line idk- The most I want from him is to be as good of a friend to him as Rosie is (well that and to touch his ears but that's a given). But this is another character I love literally everything about. Who would've thought the concepts of 'radio host', 'serial killer', and 'literal deer' would work so well together to create this dapper yet terrifying fucking cryptid. Not only can he be either incredibly scary or a silly guy, he can and has done both at once. Example: Episode 3 when he's just casually eating a deer carcass in his room (in which he summoned a whole ass bayou). I was genuinely so glad when the 'this face was made for radio' thing happened in episode 1, confirming that they were still gonna lean into his creepy-as-fuck distortion and general vibe he had in the pilot. He's horrifying and evil and I love that about him. Meanwhile he also says shit like "Now he's pissy, that's the tea" (definitely taught to him by Rosie) and kicks his legs on the bed like a schoolgirl as if he hasn't committed countless atrocities. My favorite character, everyone-

Wow I wrote more than I meant to for this, sorry about the essay-

[taraljc]

So while the continuity in the films is an absolute disaster, there's a fair bit that can be handwaved. but Jean Gray being born 10 years earlier is not really one of those things. However I do wonder if Charles saw more of the future than he ever disclosed when he read Logan's mind in 1973. maybe that's why he goes off the absolute fucking rails by the time we get to Dark Phoenix. like he is so desperate to change what he saw in Logan's mind and yet instead he ends up doubling down and fucking up even harder which is kind of endearing in a way. but I'm not entirely short counts as character development. And it's still annoying that Charles and Hank are more fully realised characters than any of the female leads including Raven.

Also I find it vaguely fascinating that Hank apparently created his serum, and was using it for a solid decade before the timelines branched, and yet Kelsey Grammer's Hank in Last Stand acts as if he hasn't seen his own skin before when he's exposed to Jimmy's powers.

Hilariously, I care less about the cure from Last Stand turning out to be only temporary (and what makes it worse is that Bobby and Kitty apparently still get together even though Marie took the cure) then I do Charles' complete disintegration from reality being only temporary.

Considering that we actually see Jean reverse the Phoenix effect that she used to basically disassemble people to their composite molecules when she starts to dissolve Scott and then puts him back together, it makes sense to me that Charles would eventually be able to get enough power to bring back his original body after using Moira's coma patient as a timeshare.

I am glad that they finally in Days of Future Past show Raven fighting because that is one of the things that it defined Rebecca Romjin's Raven. Although the decision to put Erik in jail just so they could have a giant set piece of breaking Erik out of jail is weird because it means that Raven was actually only with Erik for like a year and a half maybe before they parted ways. and I am always going to wonder in the original timeline how they got back together.

(Also it makes me wonder how Wolverine first met Peter Maximoff, and how long the gap between The Wolverine and Days of Future Past is actually supposed to be.)

Although I will say one thing I have never understood about the choices that these films make is they already fucked up the Dark Phoenix storyline once why in the name of all that is holy did they try to do it again? Also it really doesn't work if they push the storyline back to 1992 compared to 2003 because then you have removed Logan completely from the picture and The only thing that worked in that whole stupid Logan/Jean/Scott triangle was giving Logan as a character something to be grounded in even if it was as flimsy and tenuous as it was.

I've also really been weirded by the fact that he apparently regained his memories at one point and it's just never referenced again. Like, he remembers sleeping with a mobster's daughter many times in 1973. and he knows in other universes that he's like 200 years old so he must have recovered his memories created by the traumatic brain injury Stryker gave him.

I need to watch Logan again because I think some of this must be answered in there and I just don't remember or they just didn't care. I think the second option is probably a heck of a lot more likely.

[lewdladylily]

is your blog description still accurate? that would be nearly ten months without orgasm :o

It is actually!

I am very used to long term orgasm denial at this point. I wasn't always interested in long term denial, in fact it was a hard limit for me until I met my owner (aka Raven) because the few times I had touched the idea with others it caused some serious negative emotional problems, but I knew my owner liked the idea and I trusted Raven to be careful with me. So about 7 months in when our dominant/submissive relationship had solidified, I brought it up and told my owner we could try it in a limited way.

Over time my owner (with my consent) used things like hypnosis and conditioning to train me so I could handle it, then made me like it, then love it, and at this point I practically crave it. I am basically incapable of wanting to orgasm without also hoping at least a little that I will be told no. It is so much part of how I experience sex that the idea of frequent orgasms is quite unappealing.

Specifically the way we do it and I like it is having my owner have control over when and how I orgasm, and building up my desperation to orgasm with teasing, edging, etc. All those parts are important. Simply not being able to cum is boring. Control and teasing and building up desperation are what makes it enjoyable. I'm a masochist, this turns pleasure into an entirely new kind of torture and I fucking *love* it, being edged and teased until I am crying in desperation for the over stimulation to stop is unbelievably hot. And then when I do orgasm it is mind blowing. All the best orgasms of my life have been while under this kind of control and teasing.

This means my preference is being worked up to a high level of frustration and desperation over weeks or months. If this can't be done, I would rather not orgasm. And unfortunately this has been a difficult and stressful year for me, we've had to take fairly frequent and significant breaks, which kinda resets things. Even when i really, really wanted an orgasm I never got desperate enough for Raven to feel like I needed one and she never wanted to give me one for other reasons. And then it was 8 months since I had an orgasm.

At that point she set me some goals to earn an orgasm, like being able to deep throat my large dildo (8 inches long, 1.8 inch diameter) for 3 minutes without having to pull it out (I actually managed 4 and a half), but I wasn't able to complete one of the goals before personal circumstances again made us take a break, which will last until late August.

Even if I manage all the goals now it's almost certain that I will be within easy reach of a year before we have time to get me properly worked up, so I figure Raven's going to make me wait if only to be able to say she trained me from a hard limit of one week up to an entire year of denial. But I expect it will be very soon after that as long as I keep myself able to do all the goals she set.

That said, if i don't reach my goals I'm equally sure she'd be happy to keep me denied forever now she's proven I can handle it, so I really need to start practicing again. For example, last time we tested me on deep throating I only managed a minute and a half, which is a really poor showing by my standards.

Thank you for the ask!

[happyandticklish]

You said you had a head cannon about Rufus and Mateo from they both die at the end in October and I am on my knees begging and crying asking for some tickle fluff for them bc holy fuck I just finished reading the book and I am in tears and pain

I'm pretty sure I've shared a bit of that headcannon (it would be under the tag "cool guy headcannons") but you know what, you can get another one because emotional support is needed after what that book does to you

So Mateo, being Mateo, is going over all the possible ways in which things could go wrong that day. Random things too, like a bike accident or a freak storm or surprising news that results in a heart attack. And at first Rufus tries assuring him it's gonna be fine, but when it becomes clear that that's not working, he resorts instead to listing off even more ridiculous ways in which you could die until Mateo starts smiling because there's no way a mime is going to seek him out in an act of bloody revenge.

So that's how they spend their day, just shooting the shit and giggling over stupid ideas until death has completely slipped their mind despite it being the topic of conversation.

At one point Rufus suggests death by laughter, because Mateo is laughing pretty hard at that point and it's this silent gasping wheeze of a laugh that makes it sound like he's choking, and Mateo rolls his eyes with a grin and is immediatelly disproving it like, "How would you even keep people laughing for that long?"

So Rufus mulls it over and finally lands on tickling and Mateo is skeptical because tickling hardly seems like it could be dangerous.

Which is when Rufus raises an eyebrow at Mateo's unknowing mistake.

And Mateo freezes up, red flooding his face, as Rufus threatens to tickle him to show him just how bad it could be. But Rufus is staring at him with that "unless you're too chicken to" look that Mateo's been getting all day and he wants to make Rufus proud so he dares him to. Not to mention, the thought of Rufus's hands on his body IS kind of exciting.

So Rufus turns around and awkwardly Mateo lays down on his bed, half curled in because Rufus has this shit-eating grin on his face that's making him nervous. But he still thinks it should be okay all the way until Rufus starts (barely wiggling his fingers over the sides of his shirt) and he realizes that he is in fact very ticklish. And he's trying to be tough but it fucking tickles and giggles keep slipping out and his arms are shaking from the effort of stopping them from dodging down in protection.

And Rufus keeps teasing him too like, "Hey now, stop laughing so much or you're gonna prove my point" and Mateo is trying so hard but he can't.

They would have continued for a while longer if Rufus hadn't moved to his stomach which is a lot more ticklish than it needs to be, and suddenly Mateo's hands are shooting down to grab at his and his head is thrown back in desperate laughter as he wheezes out giddy "Stop"'s and "not there"'s. And Rufus does because a slight part of him is worried this might be how Mateo actually dies from how hard he's laughing, and the two lay there in his bed, giggly and exhausted and a little bit drunk off the feeling of touching each other.

This was more like a mini fic idea than a headcannon asjgjghji but you know what it's fiiiine

[finelinens1994]

i'm half asleep and just thinking about the internet and how much it has changed even in just the last ten years, here's my rambling about it:

i truly believe people overall have become significantly more prone to aggressive emotional outbursts since the advent of social media as we know it today. i think there are a LOT of compounding factors (tldr the world sucks) which lead to all of us feeling a lot of emotions that leave us distressed and anxious and overwhelmed, and we desperately seek an outlet for those feelings. and i don't think those emotional impulses are borne of ideological beliefs, but rather the ideological beliefs are formed as a justification for the impulsive emotional outburst.

everyone has a lot of shit going on. everyone is sad, everyone is angry, everyone is so fucking tired. we all let out these emotions and expel them from our bodies and minds in one way for another, and unfortunately the people who direct those emotions toward others end up causing pain and then conjure up ideologies that they might not even really believe in just to justify and rationalize what they've done. but now their back is against the wall, and they need to stand by this ideology. they're pissed off about their job sucking and not paying enough and rent going up and healthcare being expensive and their uncle is on a ventilator with covid and they can't afford fresh fruit anymore so hey maybe being an asshole to this person online will give them a tiny bit of catharsis and take the pressure off for just a moment. and it does. so they do it again and again, and find reasons to justify that behavior. these ideologies are not really that important to them, these issues are not that significant in their lives, but they serve as scaffoldings holding them up during a time of complete emotional disarray. so they allow it. because there is nothing worse than confronting your own emotions and their roots, right?

so yeah, this is why i choose to approach all situations from a place of compassion as well as i can. not just because i believe many people are simply in a state of emotional turmoil right now, but because i have the idealistic hope that my compassion during a moment of emotional volatility may encourage them to show compassion to someone else. sure, it probably doesn't work most of the time. they probably just leave the interaction and go harass someone else. but there's a chance that me showing just one person compassion has helped them realize that they want to be kinder. i don't know. i think i am very sensitive and emotional but i am also constantly battling nihilism, so i might actually go crazy if i stop prioritizing the way i hold compassion for other people. i am definitely not a saint and i am far from a great person, but i think the fact that i am trying is worth smiling about sometimes. okay i'm starting to need to correct a lot of typos now so it's definitely bedtime, goodnight folks love you sweet dreams

[misswoozi]

Okay cap. Johnny/Kun. It starts as a very casual 'youre sexy, im sexy' and also finding outside the industry partners is exhausting fwb situation. They were both also sleeping with other people from their group and others probably.

Somehow tho things started to get weird. One of them would get a bit moody when a 'you up??' Text got ignored, there was jealousy and possessiveness from both sides whenever members got together and sometimes even at award shows and performances.

Thing is neither of them would really talk about it directly. Instead the sex just got rougher and more desperate; they know better than to mark arms and necks but they got creative with hickies littering inner thighs and handprint bruises across asses. Slowly they stop seeing their other fwbs, canceling hookups for late night convenience store runs.

Eventually all 21 other members are pretty sure theyre in an official relationship and wondering why tf they havent been told. So, who calls them out, or is it a groupwide intervention?? Do they admit feelings then and there or do they say theyre just fucking and maybe talk about it later?? Do they last??

Sorry for the quality here, im making this up off the top of my head whilst cooking.

AKSLADGLSDGLS DON'T APOLOGIZE, THIS IS PERFECT, WE HEADCANON JOHNKUN THE EXACT SAME WAY?????

they are my go-to NCT angst ship lmaooo I feel like every group has one true Angst Ship that is just simply not meant to be endgame and never meant to have a happy ending and for me, it's JohnKun. Like yeah they like each other, yeah they're attracted to each other, yeah they make sense together but it's just not meant to be -- and when you factor in the fact that they're in 2 units of the same group that BARELY interact anymore, you have yourself a God Tier heartbreak ship and I am so fucking INTO IT

so! JohnKun, FWBs who secretly caught feelings but neither of them will admit it. like you said, they channel their jealousy into rougher and rougher sex (it's so tough because I think they're both pretty strict tops but I DO have a top!Johnny/bottom!Kun video on my Twitter that I'm obsessed with)

they fuck in secret for months before they get called out, and it's Jungwoo that confronts them about it. he pays attention and JohnKun have been acting shady towards each other in full group settings and he just says, "so how long have you two been sleeping together?"

Jungwoo calling them out finally forces them to sit down and talk and they decide to try DATING. and for half a year, it's a pretty good relationship. but they're both so stubborn in their own way and 127/WayV have such different schedules (sometimes even in different countries) and so it doesn't work out. it breaks both of their hearts WAY MORE than they let on (to each other or to their members) and it's a heartbreak that heals poorly but they get through it. full group promotions (like NCT 2021) are still a little hard but they're both moved on.

[donnerpartyofone]

I got up and decided that today I would start the week on a good foot by going to get some vitamins that we ran out of, which would give me some exercise, and then I'd come home and write (an overdue project) for the second half of the day. I put on contact lenses so I could wear sunglasses and also see things, which I hadn't done in a long time and I noticed that just looking at my phone through them gave me motion sickness, but for some moronic reason I filled my bag with things to read and write on and left, only to wonder later why I was dumb enough to give myself so much useless shit to schlep around. I had been walking for about an hour when I realized I forgot my wallet. I realized this because I had worn my newly repaired shoes and they were wearing blisters in both my feet, and sometimes there's a bandaid in my wallet because I'm such a fucking disaster, but I hadn't had the brains to make sure I had bandaids this time. I got angry with myself and headed home to change my shoes, put on bandaids, pick up my wallet, and start over. Half way home I fucking walked into a store and tried to fucking buy something despite that fact that I shouldn't be spending any money AND the whole point of this part of the journey was getting my wallet. I was so embarrassed that I made the person hold the item for me while I promised to come back instead of just saying SORRY NEVERMIND like I should have. I got home, grabbed my wallet, put on bandaids, changed my shoes, and went back to the store. Immediately both bandaids wadded themselves up into little sweaty dirty garbage pebbles that ground themselves into the open sores on my feet. I bought my stupid thing and thought that I didn't want to go home because I don't want anyone to look at me or talk to me at this point, but I ran into my husband who asked me to pick up coffee for him while he lugged our laundry around. I did this (the only positive thing I have accomplished all day), vaguely explained to him that I could not get us our vitamins because I'm just not competent to do something like that, and went back out, failing to replace the unsanitary bandaid tumbleweeds in my shoes. I had also forgotten to take out my contacts, which I wound up doing in a grimy bar bathroom while trying not to cry. I got a beer for lunch and thought about how even if I go home now, I won't be able to set up my work and do enough refocusing and warmup shit in order to make real progress on anything important. I won't have time to do anything other than clean the kitchen in order to (barely) earn the food that someone else has to cook for me because every time I try to contribute to our meals it leaves us both disgusted and hungry. None of these mistakes of mine are dramatic, but they are relentless and over days and weeks and years they develop the cumulative impact of a tsunami. Being stupid and incompetent can literally take years off your life, if you can never get past step one then you can never do anything of value. This is my every day, and every time someone tries to diagnose my various crimes as innocent aberrant mistakes I have to say THEN WHY IS EVERY DAY LIKE THIS and then they get to dismiss me like I'm not worth hearing from because society treats depressed people like we're either pathological liars or completely detached from reality. This repeated experience has made me paranoid as well as depressed and now I live like some conspiracy theorist desperately cataloging my every mistake on an obscure blog as if some day I will get the opportunity to show someone all my documentation and they'll be forced to admit that only I am the expert on my own life and I actually have a right to my feelings. Unfortunately, even a beautiful day like today will not turn out to be that day.

[finsterhund]

When the inner child just will not budge on something and the only solution is being a miracle worker or temporarily killing him.

That's what I've been struggling with re: last night.

If Sly wasn't a stuffed animal worth four hundred dollars and rarely shows up for sale online all this could be avoided.

Unfortunately it has to be Sly, and he wants it NOW.

Getting some sleep definitely helped but oh my god.

I know a big reason I'm suffering so bad is the heat though. And the fact that Scott is my sole responsibility and he's being very difficult right now. Roommate not cleaning up after his rabbits and Scott making that mess my problem on top of everything has been not helping.

Objectively the Sly head made over the mental breakdown these past two days has been the best result in real fabric at the real size I've made so far. There's problems, it's not perfect, but I am making progress. But of course it's so much work and it's never enough and all that.

Maybe I'm just going mad because I'm waiting for my surgery. Who knows. Being your own parent is impossible when you're me. And then I have to do even more.

I just. Idk how to even describe it.

I feel having my own apartment with working AC and being able to just be alone with my stuff and not worry about money and food would help tremendously. But this isn't something people like me get to have. Those are privileges my generation and my income bracket and my support needs don't have access to. Ever. instead I'm stuck here and I'm boiling and I'm uncomfortable and overwhelmed.

Ultimately I need a Sly who can take a beating. And it needs to be a Sly. It needs to be good. I can't use the official Sly because I will never be able to replace that one.

This would be so much easier if I could have fixated on some cheap ten dollar squishable or some shit.

But no it had to be heritage quality patchwork big enough to hold sensory stimulation artist made teddy bear monster.

And I think. "Is this all because I retired Ope?" (Because Ope is literally falling apart. Need I remind you. That is why I can't use the official Sly)

This isn't just wanting a stuffed animal. This is a severely abused and neglected child taking care of himself all by himself living paycheck to paycheck and the only thing he has for family is a stuffed animal given to him by his grandparents that was loved to tatters and now he's trying desperately to create something to fill that void. While overheating and overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Ultimately I think I've been lying about how good I am since losing Cazza. I think my regressing has gotten worse. I think I'm in denial about being okay. I went from having a service dog to having the most difficult to manage high support needs rescue dog in the world. Scott and me are very similar. I think.

I don't mean to worry you guys. And I'm sorry for not responding to personal messages.

I just think everything has come together to make a perfect concoction of agony of which there is no escape.

And it's so bad these past couple days because I can't go to the lake again until after I heal from my surgery. I can't take any pain meds until after I heal from my surgery (except for the ones they will give me after my surgery which hasn't happened yet) I'm not allowed to take anything like that now. A week until my surgery. It's all just so much.

I'm what happens when you lock a disabled and mentally ill child in a cage and torture him. I'm the chimpanzee who is one missed sedative dose from ripping his owner's face off.

Having to do everything yourself is hard enough.

I am so fucking sick of living in poverty. Literally everything could be alleviated if I had half the things rich boomers had.

It feels like I need a fucking lobotomy.

Manic depression. Why did it have to be manic depression.

And I think is this how my birth father's brain worked? Is this why he beat his family and assaulted his children and threatened government people and brawls with police officers? Is this why HIS father was a violent crazed demon who nobody could go near and the only reason they discovered he was deceased was because the noise stopped and the house started to smell like rot?

Positivity on the internet makes it seem like I should just be s cute little smol bean who cries and can be soothed with a cuddle and a snack but PTSD has made me a writhing inferno of rage and fear and energy too powerful for my body to handle. My fragile psyche is the one thing in the way of unleashing unfathomable hell upon the world. And it's terrifying and what do I even fucking do?

I don't just have to take care of myself. I have to prevent the cycle of violence from continuing. I have to be the last line of defense. I need that legacy to die. I still don't know what in the fuck kind of bullshit I truly inherited from that damned bloodline but the knowledge that I'm part of it weighs on me heavily.

Am I doing enough? Am I good enough?

Having to live with that man has infected me with something that I know I'm not fully rid of yet.

Why oh why did my mother take me away from my grandparents and bring me to him. And it's no wonder she didn't want me when I'm so much like him. She had to raise her abuser's son. It's no wonder she went on to do the things she did.

I wish I knew what to do about any of this.

All I know is I want the perfect Sly where anything bad that happens isn't a big deal, anything can be replaced, I don't have to constantly worry all the time. And he has to be perfect. He has to be everything. He must be everything for me.

I want to turn my brain off. I want to sleep. But I can't.

And everything's too hot.

Does writing this and sharing it even help? Does a call for help do anything? Is this even a call for help or is it just me not being able to beat having only me suffering through this? I don't know.

I just need to remind myself that I'm better than I could be. At least I'm not the worst I could be. That's all I can do. I just wish everything would stop.