#do not take this in a weird way or i will throttle you

[remorsefullyunapologetic]

posted this in the tse artbook but tumblr can have it too. anyways qrow being a dumbass

[mindmelter]

Riding The Rider

Hawk had always been a man who loved the open road. Today was no different. He had just picked up a new helmet—sleek, white, and impossibly high-tech.

Earlier that day, he went to buy a new helmet when he saw a beautiful white one called Helmetai. The helmet cost a fortune, so he wasn't going to buy it, but the owner of the store insisted that he should take it; when Hawk explained he didn't have the money, he then gave him one for free.

“Consider it a gift. A biker like you deserves the best helmet!" The owner said. Hawk found it weird, but he wasn't one to refuse such an expensive gift.

The helmet boasted top-tier features: enhanced vision, noise-canceling technology, and an integrated heads-up display. He didn’t bother reading all the technical specs—it was just a helmet, after all. But as he slid it over his head, it fit snugly, almost like it was made for him. The visor suddenly flickered to life with a soft hum.

"Welcome aboard, Hawk. Prepare for the ultimate ride." The helmet said in a robotic voice.

"Oh, nice, I didn't know it could do that. Helmetai, play my favorite playlist!"

Suddenly, 'Highway To Hell' started blasting in Hawk's ears as he revved up his bike and took off down the highway. The wind rushing against his muscles and the adrenaline pumping through his veins was Hawk's addiction. As he weaved between cars, pushing the speed limit, something strange began to happen.

He started feeling a small electric flow in his head. He shook it off, thinking it was just the adrenaline—or maybe the helmet was messing with his senses. After all, this was his first time using such high-tech gear. But suddenly the world around him faded, and he felt a disorienting pull as if he was being yanked from his own body. And just like that, everything went black.

One second later, Hawk's body came back to life.

"Transfer Complete, please don't remove the helmet until your ride is finished. Enjoy your time in Hawk's body." The helmet said.

“Oh, I plan on enjoying every second of this ride. Let’s see what this body can really do.” Hawk said. With a swift twist of the throttle, the bike shot forward, rocketing down the highway at full velocity, way past the velocity limit.

This helmet wasn’t just any helmet. Unknown to Hawk, it was part of a secret possession industry designed for the elite. Wealthy men who longed for excitement and adventure would rent out bodies, usually those of fit, and unsuspecting strong men, to live their fantasies. The technology behind it was the most advanced—microchips embedded into the helmets that synced with the brainwaves of the wearer, overriding their control and allowing someone else to slip into the driver's seat.

It was a perfect way for rich men to have a moment of pure adrenaline without worrying about getting hurt or dying in a crash; the helmet was programmed to shut down as soon as an accident happened or if they were pulled over by the police.

"Oooh, fuck yeah, now that’s a body!" Hawk shouted, flexing his thick biceps.

A huge tent started forming in his pants as he tested out his new muscles.

"Look at me! No fucking hands! YOOOOHOOOO!!!!'

Soon, he started hearing the sounds of the police sirens behind him.

"Alert! The police are after you. Do you wish to continue the ride?" The helmet asked.

"Yes I do! I paid for the full experience!" Hawk laughed sterically as he took off at full velocity, trying to escape the police.

Far away, in another state, a middle-aged, overweight man sat in front of his computer in his luxurious dark room, on his head was also a Helmetai.

[inmyheaddd]

✦ brand new, full throttle - percy jackson x reader

summary: your best friend percy confesses quite possibly the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard from him a/n: friends to lovers you’ll never get old!!

the fire crackled softly as the waves lapped at the shore in the background, the distant sound of laughter and chatter blending with the hum of the ocean. everyone else was still in the dining pavilion, and you sat down a good few feet away from percy, behind him. 

you pulled your knees to your chest, staring up at the stars twinkling above, lost in thought.

you didn’t know why percy had been so quiet all day, but it wasn’t like him. normally he’d be the one making jokes, grinning at you from far away and sending you a wave, or simply saying stupid things to try make you laugh. 

instead, he’d just been… quiet. every time you initiated a conversation you could tell his mind was in a whole different place. even now, it seemed like he didn’t even notice your presence further down the beach. you stared at the back of his head, his gaze clearly fixed somewhere far beyond the horizon.

finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. you stood, brushing the sand off your shorts and walking over to where he sat, closer to the shore but still far enough where you didn’t have to worry about wet sand.

“okay, you need to spill,” you said, dropping down beside him.

he blinked, glancing at you like he hadn’t noticed you coming over. “what?”

you dropped down beside him, close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “don’t ‘what?’ me,” you said, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head to look at him. “what’s going on with you? you’ve been weird all day.”

he huffed a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. “nothing, i’m fine,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing.

“percy.”

he sighed, leaning back on his hands and staring out at the waves again. “i don’t know,” he started, his voice low. “i’ve just been thinking.”

you took in the way his face looked with the low moonlight hitting his features, trying to commit it to memory. “about what?” you prompted, your gaze never leaving him.

he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure how to put it into words. finally, he turned to look at you fully, his expression soft, almost vulnerable. 

“it’s just, you always reminded me of something, and i’ve been trying to figure out what it was,” he said, pausing for a second before continuing. “but i think i got it,” his eyes scanned your face, “it’s— you remind me of the ocean.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “the ocean?”

you didn’t think there were any qualities you had that were similar to the ocean. percy was all things ocean, so, to say you were incredibly confused was an understatement. you were definitely intrigued, though. 

“yeah,” he said, his lips twitching into a small smile. “and not just ’cause it’s pretty, and you’re pretty, but... ’cause you feel like home, you know?”

his words hit you like a wave, stealing the air from your lungs. for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your cheeks burning. “oh,” you said softly, your voice barely audible.

this was percy, your best friend percy, the one who would make up new nicknames for you just to get on your nerves, the one who would tell you to not even bother asking for his food whenever you hung out because he ‘there was no chance he’d be sharing with anyone.’ but then always ended up offering before you could ask anyway, and insisted when you said you were fine.

this was also the percy that made your insides feel like they were melting whenever you hugged goodbye, or if he smiled at you a little longer than usual. this was the percy you only realized you liked being around so much when you were separated for the school year.

again, this was your best friend percy, saying you felt like home to him? 

he gave you a sheepish smile, glancing back at the water. “sorry, that probably sounded dumb.”

“no it didn’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “it didn’t at all.”

he looked at you again, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. 

the fire crackled behind you, the ocean hummed in the distance, and everything else faded away.

“that’s… that’s good, then,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. whatever haze you seemed to be feeling, he looked— and sounded— like he was in it too.

neither of you moved for a moment, and then—almost without thinking—you leaned in. so did he. when your lips met, it was soft and warm, like the waves brushing the shore. his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you melted into the kiss. 

when you finally pulled back, your heart was pounding in your chest, and his face was so close you could see the little freckles on his nose that were only visible in the spring and summer. 

“what?” you asked softly, noticing the way his lips twitched into the smallest smile.

he shook his head, like he couldn’t quite put grasp the words, then glanced out at the waves before looking back at you. “nothin’,” he said, his voice quiet. “just… missed you recently.”

your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you as you smiled back. “i missed you too.” you said, “we here now, though” 

his smile grew, just a little, and then you rested your head on his shoulder. his arm wrapped around your shoulders and brought you closer.

you couldn’t help but ask, “so, that’s what’s been on your mind all day?” a small laugh escaped past your lips, “the reason why you were acting so weird?”

percy chuckled, leaning back on his hand behind him and looking down at you. “well, yeah, i guess.” he sent you one of those sarcastic smiles, “that, and whether you were gonna share the candy you snuck in later.”

you shoved his shoulder lightly, getting out of his hold with a laugh as you rolled your eyes. “unbelievable.”

“what?” he said, grinning, holding his arms out. “i’m a guy of many thoughts. you’re just the main one.”

“percy!” you groaned, covering your face, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

he laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “come on, don’t act like you’re not flattered. you’re up there with sleep and candy— very important stuff.”

you peeked at him from between your fingers. “you’re lucky i like you.”

“yeah,” he grinned at you, putting his arm around you once again, and you melted into his side. “i know.”

tag list: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23

@hermesenthusiast

[nectardaddy]

full throttle | sakusa kiyoomi

chapter eight | no faith | 🏎️

masterlist

Neither party could find much to say in the morning, even after getting coffee. A thick, almost tangible, tension in the air that was hard to miss and neither could really work themselves around.

A tension to him that was suffocating, riddled with anxiety of the upcoming tandem mixed with never knowing exactly what to say. For her, completely deafening, determined to only look out the window. Both telling themselves, I'll talk if they do, being the complete collapse of conversation all together. Tension that remained for the entire trip, 30 minutes of dreadful silence completely overshadowing any meaningful conversation that was had the day before.

Shifting his car into neutral and pulling the parking break, he let out a breath before looking over to her. "Sorry," mumbling an apology before continuing, "I'm pretty nervous today, actually."

Even still she flashed him a small, nervous smile, "you'll do great, I know it."

"The whole reason I did well yesterday was because you said I was the best driver you'd ever seen and I couldn't get it out of my head." Blurting out the words before quickly closing his mouth, mind reeling as he didn't register what he wanted to say. The words just came out. "Fuck, I'm sorry, that was weird," desperately trying to back track the conversation. Cheeks flushing as he saw her eyes widen from his out burst.

"No," she corrected. "Not weird at all," letting a nervous chuckle pass her lips as a pause entered once again. "It's sweet, I didn't know it would mean that much to you."

Finally, the man felt as if he could breath again. Listening to, only part, of what Komori had suggested he say paid off. "Thanks for coming today, I'm happy you're here."

"Of course," the nerves leaving her smile as it turned pure. "I'm happy I came with you. Plus, I can't wait to see you kick everybody else's ass."

jfc the first message from "baby got track" was atsumu saying if you think we wouldn't notice you blushing getting outta that car you're WRONG (technology actually hates my very existence today)

double feature again bc I didn't feel great about that last chapter

omi was thinking of telling yn that the entire way there but pawned it off as being nervous for tandems

as much as they get on his nerves, those 3 ARE his friends and it was only a matter of time before he told them how he felt

he just had to mentally prepare himself

suna just lives to annoy yn

but other than noya, he's probably the most ride or die friend

he's also the best at running from cops

if omi doesn't win now he will die of embarrassment, he's taking "kick everyone's ass" to heart

taglist under cut

@wyrcan @hilichurl-lover @neuviloved @mayariviolet @wqnsho

@chosugarplum @dontmindtheevie @ilyless @phoenix-eclipses @kitnootkat

@azuremyst99 @wolffmaiden

[mosaickiwi]

Hi, hope you had a great new years ^^

If it's okay can I request a fic of Redacted teaching Angel how to ride their bike or just Angel just riding their bike in general?

Hiiii my new year was good! I hope yours (and valentine's,easter,etc) was good as well!!

the date callin me out for how long it's been since jan i'm sobbing /silly

I feel like emo boy would be extremely thorough about teaching them so... Maybe I'll do a part two where Angel actually drives... 👉👈

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~A Riding Lesson~

[REDACTED] was in their personal garage doing some maintenance on his bike when you arrived a little early for your date. All he could offer in greeting were a few sweet words and a quick kiss, due to their grease stained fingers. You chose to silently observe them for a while, sitting at the bench they left their toolkit on. You found yourself leaning forward, watching with pure fascination.

There was precision to each movement as they went about their work with expert hands. Were it not for the occasional smiles he threw your way when he picked up a different tool every so often—smiles that somehow still sent your heart aflutter after so long—you would’ve been completely absorbed.

You'd always been curious about how it worked. But there was never really a good time to mention said curiosity. Especially since you were more focused on holding on for dear life whenever they drove somewhere, even at a snail’s pace. You supposed now could be a good time.

“Can you teach me how to ride it?” you suddenly asked once he came over to pack his tools away in the box at your side.

Their scarred hand that was idly twirling a wrench stilled as he looked down at you, light blue eyes glittering with the beginnings of something. “...Yeah, love? Y’mind saying that again f’me?”

Much too late to take it back, you noticed your mistake. You were so absorbed in your thoughts that it felt like you were picking up a conversation. In reality, it hadn't even started. “The bike, Ren,” you hurriedly corrected yourself. “Teach me how to ride the bike.”

“‘Course. My bike,” [REDACTED] nodded along and continued putting away the tools. The smirk on their face was unmistakable, but they surprisingly held back from teasing you any longer. “Maybe a quick lesson, then.”

“Really?” You perked up.

He nodded towards the bike with an amused smile as he closed the toolbox and wiped off his hands. “We’ve got time.”

Excited as could be, you hopped over and quickly sat in the cushioned seat, immediately fidgeting with the handlebars. It already seemed weird being in the front, let alone by yourself. But your heart got a little louder when your dark haired lover sat behind you on the bike.

You were certain he could feel how you shivered as his hands wrapped securely around your waist and his head rested on top of yours. Stumbling for words, you almost shouted, “So! …Where am I taking us?”

“Nowhere. Y’need to know where everything is first, Angel.”

“Boooo.”

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

After fifteen grueling minutes of quizzing, he finally agreed to let you ride around the parking lot. They hopped off the back of the bike, swinging the key around their finger.  

Without his weight to balance you, you suddenly felt a little unsure of yourself. You thought he was going to ride with you, so you asked, “Did you only sit on the bike to hug me?”

“Yeah, y’looked so cute I couldn’t help m’self,” he admitted shamelessly. They didn't give you the key just yet, merely circled the bike a few times with a careful gaze. “Clutch?”

You frowned. The quiz was supposed to be over. “Left lever.”

“Throttle?”

You remembered that one easily. He always revved the engine with it before leaving. “Right handle," you said confidently as you grabbed it.

“Front brake?”

“Uhh…” you started, quickly panicking at the resigned look in their eye. “Right pedal.”

“That's the rear brake. Maybe next time.” They gave a swift denial of your short-lived dream.

You stubbornly stayed put on the bike, though your hands were no longer holding the handles, instead resting in front of you on the seat. “I could drive it down to the street, at least."

“Y’really think so? It’s a lot t’handle,” he cautioned. He reached in front of you with the key in hand, quickly putting it in the ignition. The engine purred in that quiet way you were used to.

You watched as [REDACTED] held firmly on the clutch at one handle, and slowly guided your hand to the throttle on the other. With the lightest turn of your wrist, the engine roared loud, vibrating the seat more and more. But he turned it even further and you could hardly hear yourself think.

It made you nervous. If you weren’t sure where the break was—or which one to use—it’d really spell disaster. “Okay, I get the point,” you sighed. They let go of your hand and the engine died back down to its usual purr. “I’ll try harder to remember where everything is. No crashing your bike into a stop sign for now.”

“Good. Just wan’ you t'keep that pretty little head right where it is, love,” he hummed and kissed said forehead. “Now, scoot. Or we can head upstairs so ‘can teach ya how to really—”

“I meant the bike!!”

[sixosix]

Hi! I'm on a sae brainrot lately it's gonna consume me and your fics are soo good😫 can I req a sae with reader in love with him despite being friends with rin, I just love the idea of rin being annoyed with the two of them giving each other heart eyes when reader comes over to their house, thank you sooo much!

think of this as an au where the itoshi brothers aren’t as insane and strained ur welcome ALSO ANON HELPP this idea is so funny

rin doesn’t consider himself as someone who has homicidal urges. on a good day, at least.

but you are making it harder and harder not to just strangle you and yell out strings of profanity whenever you sigh dreamily over his brother.

his big brother, of all people. rin knows that he and sae are pretty popular, but for his best friend to be head over heels for his brother when you should be immune to the itoshi bloodline is a bit absurd.

“it’s the best friend’s brother thing,” bachira said. rin has no idea what that means, but apparently, it’s when people go crazy over the best friend’s brother. rin hopes that none of sae’s friends are giving him the same googly eyes you do whenever sae passes by—that would be horrifying.

“he’s so handsome,” you explained to him when he asked why you are so obsessed with his brother in blood. “so—! just soo fucking—” and then rin asked you to not finish that sentence because he might have to damage his eardrums by hand if you continue.

that’s not even the worst part, no.

a normal person (like rin) would think that, okay, pining isn’t that bad. crushes are normal. my friend’s weird obsession with wanting to kiss my brother stupid is normal, maybe. but no. it’s not that easy. rin cannot just coax you to move on or force to imply anything in case sae hunts him down.

because his big brother, itoshi sae, is in love with you.

rin doesn’t know when— how it started. he just found out when you had to come up to rin to ask for something and left like a frightened deer, and sae, dead-inside, doesn’t-give-a-fuck-about-you sae, kept staring at you until you were out of sight. there was a smile on his face—a fond one, if that makes it any better.

(it does not. rin didn’t even know what to say at this point. his hands are itching.)

“that’s just a little brother thing,” shidou remarked once when rin lamented about his worrying urge to throttle you and sae simultaneously. rin understands that one, at least.

you have to come over today.

it’s not a big deal since you’ve come to his room to hang out before. it’s not always voluntary on rin’s part; you just appear out of nowhere, carrying pillows and about three blankets, materializing out of nowhere and onto his doorstep.

the difference is that his brother is back in japan, and you’re coming over today.

why is this a problem?

well, for starters: rin is not fond of seeing you make a fool of yourself and cry about it to him later on. he sleeps through it, usually, but you smack his head when you meet again, and he is afraid he might get brain damage soon.

second, rin only stays in his room, so it is where you follow. if the time comes you leave, sae will interrogate the hell out of him and give the coldest glares out of sheer jealousy. rin cannot be bothered to explain that no, he doesn’t like you that way, and sae is free to take you.

he doesn’t want to expose you like that, though. he is not that much of an asshole. as horrible and hilarious it is to watch you trip over yourself to see him, rin knows you genuinely like sae.

rin sees it in the way you smile helplessly whenever anyone mentions him, and rin can tell that it’s serious. you’re still his friend; he still cares about how this will work out for you.

“rin, i’m telling you,” you say, and in your excitement—or hysteria, really—you fail to notice that your voice is terribly loud. “shidou is out to get me. i have nightmares about him hunting me down because i beat him four times. he has a bat with nails on it.”

“let him win, then,” rin deadpans.

although it is his house, he’s the one trailing after you. mostly to make sure you don’t eat all the ice cream. again.

“i can’t lose to shidou, rin. that’s a stain on my resume.”

“then don’t dream about shidou with a bat with nails on it.”

“you’re the life of the party, itoshi.”

you yelp as you turn into a sharp corner on the way to his room. rin blinks at the sound and visibly deflates when he realizes who you’ve crashed into. he holds back a groan, knowing precisely what’s coming next.

cue: romantic guitar, doves flying, bells ringing.

“y/n,” sae says, holding you up by the shoulders.

“...sae,” you reply, belatedly. and then proceed to gape at him as if you forgot that he is rin’s brother and they live together for that reason.

“nii-chan,” rin says, too, because he really is not in the mood to witness this.

sae blinks up at rin. “where are you two going?”

rin hesitates. “my room.” you’re still steaming because sae is still holding you.

sae narrows his eyes.

“y-you can join us!” you blabber, refusing to meet sae’s eyes—which is horrible, really, because if you just took a single glance at sae, you’d see how his eyes softened impossibly.

“don’t say that.” rin scowls. he already has it rough having one lovesick freak in his room; he is not fit to handle two simultaneously, for each other, too.

“i’ll join,” sae decides instantly, staring right at you. rin wants to throw his hands in the air. “what did you say about shidou?”

thx for reading i had too much fun w this LMFAOOO

[salchat]

This is my tiny, innocent Dean. I've drawn him for the story I'm working on at the moment, which I'm having tremendous fun with! It's a version of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca and is my first venture into the omegaverse, because I needed Dean to be the young omega who gets swept off his feet by the older, widowed Castiel Novak.

It could be a couple of weeks before I begin posting, because I have quite a few things to work out. I may add some Secret Garden to the mix, or a dash of Jane Eyre, just for fun. But one thing's for sure - the path to true love will not run smooth! This relationship is going to have a lot of issues to work through!

Anyway, if you'd like to read a scene, there's one below the cut...

The maitre d’s voice rang through the dining room.  “Alpha Castiel Novak!”

“Oh, good heavens!”  Mrs Butters’ shrill exclamation jolted Dean out of his daydreams.  “It's Castiel Novak! No, don't look!”

He had no intention of looking.  It’d just be another more-money-than-sense alpha knothead, puffing himself up to be admired and fawned over.  Dean didn’t give a shit.  Whereas Mrs B wet her panties every time some new high society stiff arrived at the hotel.  Still, spilling her shit-load of toxic gossip meant that Dean wasn’t getting lectured or slapped or whacked with the hard wooden edge of her fan, so he’d put on his best listening face and count it a win.

She leant toward him.  “Castiel Novak is one of The Novaks.  The Novaks, Dean.”

Who the fuck were the Novaks?

“Fabulously wealthy, one of the best traditional families.”

Assholes, then.

“Their estate is in Eversett.”  She frowned.  “Or Meldonshire.  Somewhere like that.”  She waved an airy hand, her eyes glued to the alpha’s position.  “Lebanon, the house is called.  One of the few Great Houses still being managed as it should.  Oh, he's coming this way! Oh good heavens! Oh my!”

Dean anchored his eyes to the salt and pepper set in order not to roll them.  Mrs B might not want to be seen slapping her omega companion in public, but she had a retentive memory for any little slip-up and would be sure to save up one of her best for later if she caught him.

“But sir, we can set another table next to the dance floor for you.  Really, it would be no trouble.”  The maitre d’ was going full-throttle with the smarm.

Dean didn’t catch the words of the response – just a rumble, like something heavy dragging over gravel.

“Or with a view of the terrace.  It would be the work of a moment, Mr Novak.  And a much more pleasant situation.”

The rumble was louder but no more distinct.

“Then please, allow me to bring a bottle of our best champagne.”

The gravel scraped again.  

“Whiskey.  Yes, of course, sir.  And the a la carte menu.”

The gravel stirred itself into a snarl.  Jeez, this guy was more knot-headed than most.

“A hamburger.  Of course, sir.  Followed by a slice of�� pie.”  The weird newcomer might as well have requested a lump of dirt followed by a morsel of shit.  Dean couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk.  He couldn’t stop the rumble of his far from satisfied stomach either.

“Dean.”  The fan rapped his knuckles.  But she hadn’t noticed the smirk.  “Dean, stop daydreaming.  Sit up straight.”

Huh.  She was regretting taking the best chair now.  Dean, with the kitchen door flapping open and shut at his back and regular nudges to his chair from passing waiting staff, had a direct view to the next table-for-two.

Mrs B leant toward him.  “What’s he doing?”  Her pink lips moved in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“You want me to look at the alpha…uh, Mr Nover?  Novem?”

“Novak!  And yes, of course I want you to look!  Tell me what he’s doing!”

Dean looked up.  The alphas face was in shadow, downturned as if he were studying the thread-count of the tablecloth.  He had a lot of dark, messy hair.  One hand was visible, a fingertip pressing down on the blade of his fish knife so that the handle wobbled up and down.

“They say he can’t get over the death of his wife, you know.  Such a beauty, so spirited.  Amara was her name.  So sad.”  Restless fingers twitched at the stem of her wine glass.  “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing,” said Dean.  “Just sitting.”

“He must be doing something.”  Mrs B started twisting in her chair but caught herself in time, before she gave herself away as the insatiable rubber-necker that she was at heart.  “Tomorrow you can sit here and I’ll sit there!”

“Yes, ma’am.”  A passing waiter narrowly missed his head with a tray of soup.  She was welcome to Dean’s seat.

“Hasn’t he even smiled at the Contessa?  He must have noticed her, and I’m sure they know each other.  They were both at the Duke or Northerton’s ball two years ago last Christmas.”

The Contessa di Faraglione had been the object of Mrs B’s gossip for the past week since she’d arrived with her retinue of servants the week before.  She was old news now, though.  This Novak guy was the target now, and Dean would be used to help engineer an opportunity of speaking to him, which would be really embarrassing.  Like when Mrs B had made him take her card to the Contessa’s suite, claiming some kind of distant family connection.  The butler had told him to fuck off.  Probably.  Dean didn’t speak Italian.

A gust of warm, savoury air and a swell of noise at his back announced the opening of the kitchen door.  Dean hunched forward so he didn’t get a tray dumped on his head.  But the waiter was one of the more agile.  He swerved around Dean, hung a right and brought the tray down in a sweeping arc, perfectly timed to present its load to the occupant of the next table.

The occupant of the next table looked up at his meal and smiled.

And okay, yeah, it was a nice-looking hamburger.  Normally it would have had Dean transfixed, salivating with envy.  But it wasn’t the juicy patties and shiny, domed bun that brought Dean’s mind, his heart, his every-fucking-thing to a juddering halt.

Dean hadn’t seen the ocean until he was fifteen.  Before that it had been one dusty town after another, Dad dragging him and Sammy around like unwanted baggage.  But when a job had finally taken them to the coast, it’d been like all the heat and grime was washed away by that fresh, salty air.  And the colours in that huge ocean had taken his breath away.

It was the same now.  The drab, grey despair that made up Dean’s life was suddenly gone, and his world was full of ocean blue depths in the eyes of this strange alpha – strange but gorgeous, from his eyes to the soft bow of his lips to the commanding strength of his nose.  

Dean was heartily glad of his over-powdered cheeks.  Fuck, what was he thinking, blushing over some rich alpha who wouldn’t look at Dean once, let alone twice?  He really needed to get a hold of himself.

But the way that guy was looking at the burger was like he hadn’t eaten in years.  Imagine if he looked at Dean that way.  Although, maybe he’d been sick or something.  The shadows beneath his cheek bones looked sharper than they should and beneath his eyes too, little round ridges of dark cast by the bright chandeliers above them.  This alpha needed burgers and plenty of them.  Dean’s skin itched with the need to cook and cosset and caress, and Jesus fucking Christ, he was really losing it here, wasn’t he?  Really giving into his inner lapdog who just needed an alpha to boss him around to be happy.

The waiter flickered across Dean’s vision again and Mr Novak was left alone to enjoy his hamburger.  He picked up his knife and fork and raised them.  Which was a thing you did, Dean supposed, in a high-class dining room.  You ate a burger with a knife and fork.  But then his forehead crinkled into the suggestion of a frown.  He shook his head.  His rounded lips flattened into a tiny smile.  He put down his silverware.  And he picked up the burger in both hands.

“Close your mouth, Dean.”  Mrs B’s spoon scraped her bowl, chink, chink, chink, even though there was hardly any of the creamy sauce left.

Dean closed his mouth.  Then his eyes returned to the table over her shoulder.  Mr Novak hadn’t taken a bite.  He was still holding his hamburger in two hands, staring at it like he’d found the Holy Grail.

Then his eyes flicked up and fastened onto Dean’s.  Dean should look down.  He should drop his eyes like the shitty little omega-nothing that he was.  Instead he stared into the ocean.

And Mr Castiel Novak smiled at him.  Just a little smile.  Barely there before it was gone, and then he was chowing down on his meal, all his attention on his food, his eyes closing as he chewed his first mouthful, then opening again to get a load of the burger cross-section he’d created.  Did it have pickle, Dean wondered?  Mayo, cheese, the works?  Would he bite down through the whole lot, getting all the flavours in at once, in between those perfect pink lips?  And was Dean salivating over the man or the burger?

He was looking at Dean again.  Looking and smiling and nodding as if they were having an actual conversation about how great hamburgers were in general and this one in particular.

“Dean!”  

A sharp pain on his knuckles brought Dean’s attention snapping back to his employer.

“Dean!  Bridge!  The Spanish drawing room!”

“Yes, ma’am.  Sorry, ma’am.”  Bridge.  Of course it was time for bridge.  His world closed in with an almost audible snap.  Bridge was played at eight o’clock sharp every night and Dean and Mrs B were there, every single night; she to play and gossip and drink sherry, he to sit in a corner and try not to exist too loudly until he was needed.

He pushed his chair back, clumsily, and was sworn at by a passing waiter.

“Dean!”

Jeez.  He wasn’t the one who’d sworn, was he?

“Yes, ma’am.”  He rounded the table and pulled out his employer’s chair and collected up her purse and her wrap.  And he didn’t even glance over his shoulder to the most perfect alpha he’d ever seen, as he followed her to another evening of excruciating dullness in his excruciatingly dull life.

[thunder-point]

another dumb Phumpeem AU

But what if we go even more ridiculous. What if, in parallel to PhumPeem's slave deal, Fang also plays even harder to get and teases Tan by saying "Hmm, I don't know if I'm able to enter a relationship right now. I'm kind of very worried for Phum- he seems so lonely nowadays. Hasn't had a relationship in two years almost-"

And Tan being Tan, takes it to heart. He can't let his man be so worried for his little brother?? So what does he do? He plans on setting Phum up. Worse than any cupid work Pun has ever done.

He starts sending Phum dating profiles and going "aren't they cute? what do you think? do you feel any butterflies yet?" and Phum always answers with "???"

But then it gets worse. And Peem and Phum start spending more time together due to the deal, Tan also gets even braver with his plans. And one day Peem and Phum are out together and Tan walks up to them dragging a handsome man with him

He's like, "Phum! I have to introduce you to-"

And Peem is so confused?? Why does it seem like Tan is hooking Phum up with a random person he met like a week ago? What's going on? Thing is it doesn't stop there. Tan sends so many people their way. Now Phum can't go anywhere without someone walking up to him and being like, "Hey, I heard from a good friend that you're single and ready to mingle."

And it's all the funnier that it's especially happening when Peem is around, now that the friend groups merged and they are all hanging out together, Tan is more relentless than ever in getting Fang's little brother a lover.

It was amusing at first, but then Peem starts to get weird feelings whenever someone chats up a still very confused and flustered Phum. And then he realizes he likes Phum and the weird feelings become full on jealousy.

He tries to subtly tell Tan that he shouldn't bother, only to receive a "Ah? Why not? Phum is smart and handsome! He deserves a boo."

Then he tries subtly hinting that Tan doesn't need to bother because Peem is already interested, but it goes straight over Tan's head.

"I just think it's not necessary."

Tan cocks his head, blinks. "And why not?"

"Because-" Peem exhales. "Because I'm hanging out with him most of the time." Tan still looks confused. Peem wants to throttle him. "And- and he doesn't seem to want a relationship?"

"Ah, I see what's happening here." Peem tenses up when Tan points a finger at him. "You're jealous!"

"Huh? Well, I-"

"Don't worry, friend." Tan pats him on the shoulder with conviction. "We can find you a boo as well!"

Peem deflates, groans. "No need, Tan. For real. Don't even bother."

So now it's either Peem sucks it up and finally confesses to Phum so Tan can stop throwing pretty and handsome men his way, or he goes to Q.

"You need to help me stop Tan from trying to find Phum a boyfriend."

Q raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

Peem huffs. "Because. Just help me, alright?"

But Q understands the assignment completely wrong, or maybe he's just a lil shit because he just goes bluntly and tells Tan to stop it, and when Tan asks why, Q shrugs and says: "Do I need a reason? Alright. Have you considered that someone in our friend group may be head over heels for him and you're making it harder?"

Tan gasps, looks at a wide-eyed Peem, then back at Q, and asks softly, "You have a crush on Phum, Q? But- But what about Toey?"

Q's splutter is incoherent at best.

Peem puts his head in his palms.

[evertidings]

How would the ROs react to knowing there is one bed in the room their in and MC is like “You should take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor/couch” even if they know MC haven’t been getting the best sleep in a while

i haven’t done a scenario ask in a hot minute whew. the rest of the ros are under the cut !

A: “there’s no way i’m letting you take the couch,” [A] deadpans.

“rock paper scissors?”

they shake their head. “absolutely not. you haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in ages now. i can handle the couch for one night.”

“but-”

“no buts. you don’t want to be dead on your feet tomorrow, do you?” [A] grabs their things and plops them on the couch. they sit down on one of the cushions, testing it out. not bad, though definitely not as comfy as the bed. they’re quite picky about their mattresses, but this is one sacrifice they’ll take.

you watch them quietly. “the bed is big enough to fit both of us if you want. it looks like a queen size.”

[A] nearly chokes. they turn away, pretending to busy themself by finding something to hide their burning cheeks. they’re not sure if the pink tint is visible, but they don’t want to take any chances.

“i’m good. don’t worry about me.”

the suggestion alone is going to keep them up all night.

Blane: “you can take the bed. i’ll take the couch.”

Blane is too busy staring at the singular bed in the room to process your words, only doing so a couple of seconds later. they note you crossing the room to place your stuff on the couch and in four long strides, surpass you to put their bag there instead.

you stare at them. “what are you—”

“take the bed,” Blane says. “you’ve been acting weird for the past couple of days, you could use the rest. don’t fight me on this.”

“but—”

“but what? my bag is already here.” Blane moves it for emphasis, trying to ignore the pure shock on your face. they swallow, pushing through. “i’ll be okay, [surname], just— don’t be so stubborn for once, please.”

the last word seems to tide you over. “okay. just one night.”

Blane barely holds themself back from taking a breath of relief. the idea of taking the bed while you took the couch doesn’t sit well with them. that was part of the reason they were so insistent: the other? they would have combusted if you suggested you both share the queen sized bed. aversion to touch aside, it would have killed them to be so close to you.

N: “huh, there’s only—”

“i can take the couch,” N interrupts. they flash a smile before placing their bag down, claiming the spot before you can protest. “i have a sofa-bed in my apartment that i’ve slept on dozens of times. can’t be too different.”

“it can be,” you deadpan, staring them down with reluctance. “you shouldn’t have to get used to couches, N. you have the bed, i honestly don’t mind.”

“ah, but i mind that you haven’t been getting enough sleep lately.” N knows they hit the jackpot when you look away guiltily. “don’t worry about me. thank me by getting some rest.”

“but—”

N covers their ears. “can’t hear you.” they sit down on the couch, hiding their distaste for the firm cushions. definitely not as good as their sofa-bed but they don’t feel comfortable giving you the couch.

you open your mouth to say something else, but close it again. good. that means they’ve won. and you didn’t suggest sharing the bed either. lord knows N wouldn’t have had the strength to upright refuse if you had asked.

K: “take the bed. i’m not going to repeat myself.” K doesn’t leave any room for argument, staring you down like they’ll throttle you if you so much as breathe in the direction of the couch sitting nearby.

“but—”

“didn’t i say i wasn’t going to repeat myself?” K asks, eyes narrowing. “take the bed. it’s too soft for my liking anyway, i prefer something with a firmer cushion.”

it’s so clearly a lie, but K doesn’t let down their poker face, hoping that you’ll buy it.

“okay well, the bed is big enough to share if you want?” you suggest.

for a moment, K’s expression is all surprise. their walls shatter as their eyes go wide, lips shaped into an ‘o’. but just as fast as it comes, it also goes, facial features rearranging into indifference again. fuck.

“how have you made me repeat something i said i wouldn’t repeat twice now?” they grumble. they stalk over to the couch in response, hiding their face. they may not be someone who blushes easily, but god, they hate how fond their voice sounds. even with the rough edge, it’s clear your sentence affected them. fuck. again.

Rylan: “ah the one bed situation huh? well, the floor can’t be any worse than sleeping on asphalt—“

“take the bed,” you interrupt. Rylan’s eyes widen at that, a mixture of surprise at being cut off and the sentence itself. “honestly the couch seems comfy.”

“you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

Rylan bites their tongue. normally, they’d make a joke about sharing the bed, but for some reason they’ve gone all shy. they shake their head and head over to the couch, sitting on it before you can protest. “nah, don’t sweat it, hunter. i’m not the one who needs the beauty rest here.”

“you—”

“am practically nocturnal. i’ll be fine, your highness.” Rylan grins at your scowl. but though they flirt, it’s them that is praying that the slight blush on their cheeks isn’t visible.

[carriedawatermelon]

Ronancetober day five. Quick little semi-angsty thing, Nancy-centric.

Prompt: Blood

They’re on patrol in the woods, Robin and Nancy and Lucas and Max, when Nancy gives the signal, two flashes with her light. The others stop and circle up, all signaling back with a single flash, waiting quietly and readying their weapons.

There’s a pack of dogs stalking them. Nancy hears them, hears the weird clicking that means they’re talking to each other, knows they’re going to do their best to trap them before they attack.

Nancy doesn’t like being boxed in, and she’s gotten good at this. They all have, though she has particular skill with a gun, is the only one who carries one on patrol. It’s one deep breath, letting all the noise aside from her own body fade until she can focus on the sounds she wants. The sound of movement, clicks and shuffling leaves and a high-pitched buzzing whine, almost like a light bulb not screwed all the way in. She’s got them. Three to the back, two branching at the sides.

Or they’re starting to. Nancy takes two rapid shots with her rifle, a gift from Hopper that holds a magazine big enough that Nancy doesn’t have to worry about a reload every minute. The familiar, desperate whining snarl lets her know she hit what she wanted to, and the rest of them snarl too, trading stealth for a full charge.

She hits three and then four, and five is in her sights when she hears it, that clicking sound, that awful buzzing, coming from the wrong direction. Her heart, which so far had barely pinged with now-familiar warning, begins to thunder, and she takes the shot at five and whirls as fast as she can.

It’s too late.

Robin goes down, hard, a dog’s body atop hers as she shields Max and Lucas, who are charging with their bats and chains.

“Stay back,” Nancy yells, because she needs a clear line, and they listen, thank god, habit and trust overcoming the panicked desire to save Robin as fast as they can. The dog is dead immediately, three viciously accurate shots dropping him. Three viciously accurate shots Nancy can make because Robin hadn’t been moving. Robin hadn’t been moving. Robin hadn’t been moving.

Nancy’s on her as fast as she can be, Max and Lucas not far behind, and she cries, not bothering to try to hide it, when she finds Robin’s dazed blue eyes open and looking at her, a wobbly smile on her face.

“Knew you couldn’t take the shot if I was squirming,” she says, breath uneven and blood seeping at an alarming rate from her shirt and her pants, and then her eyes close, and Nancy nearly loses her mind.

-

“It’s not your fault,” Steve says lowly from the chair on the opposite side of Robin’s hospital bed.

“Sure,” Nancy says, because she doesn’t want to argue, Robin’s clammy hand in hers, her already pale skin gone totally pallid, freckles washed out from blood loss.

“She’d tell you the same thing. She will tell you the same thing, when she wakes up.”

“I know.” And she does, but that doesn’t mean Robin will be right either.

Steve doesn’t say anything else, gets up and comes back with coffee for them both a few hours later, and they wait and wait and watch.

-

“Nance,” Robin says, so gently, like Nancy is the one coming home after a week-long stay in the government-run, we-don’t-talk-about-it hospital located, of course, in fucking Hawkins Lab. “I’m okay.”

“I know,” Nancy says, less gently, because she’s not as good as Robin, not at things like this. She can patch a wound. She can plan through a crisis. The after part? Well.

Her hands are gripped tightly on the wheel, car parked in the driveway of Steve’s house, which is Robin’s house, too, now. Her parents had left more than a year ago, accepting I’m eighteen as a good enough reason to let their only child stay in a literal hellhole while they drove somewhere not full of demons and cracks bleeding poison into the air. Nancy is, selfishly, happy that she’s here. Isn’t sure what she’d do without her. She also wants to throttle her parents.

A hand comes to rest over hers, fingers rubbing soothingly at her knuckles until she lets go, turns her hand until their fingers lace. She lets Robin bring their joined hands over, feels her whole body relax despite herself at the warm press of Robin’s lips to the back of it, the fond, tilted smile waiting for her when she lets herself look, blue eyes far too knowing.

“C’mon, baby. Take a nap with me.”

She nods, and Robin kisses her hand again, the inside of her wrist, and then squeezes before letting go, opening the car door even as Nancy says, “Hold on, hold on, hold on.”

She does, amused when Nancy gets to her side of the car, and it feels like a grate against Nancy’s guilty, worried chest. Because she is who she is, it shows as anger, which she knows because Robin’s face shifts to contrition.

“Sorry,” she offers, with a small smile, and god, Nancy’s a bitch.

She gets down on her knees, concrete damp through her jeans, and puts her palms over Robin’s thighs, callouses against the soft cotton of Steve’s stolen sweats.

“I love you,” Nancy says, looking into inexplicably soft eyes, and means I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. She can’t always say it, her pride blocking her airways even though she hates it, wants to claw it out and throw it away because Robin deserves a real apology, so many real apologies.

“I know,” Robin says, and cups Nancy’s cheek, leaning down to kiss her. “We’re gonna have to talk about it at some point,” she whispers as she pulls away. “But first we need a nap.”

“Okay,” Nancy says, the way she only really says it for Robin, the way that means I love you and I’m sorry both. Robin knows her well enough to understand.

[seat-safety-switch]

Why don't people ride public transit more often? There are many excuses provided, but I think the big one is ownership. When someone else owns the bus, it is hard to feel pride about it. Someone else takes it to the mechanic. Someone else washes it. Someone else waits for a tow truck when they climb on the throttle a little too hard on the interstate and blow up the injection pump.

Wait, I hear you say, surely everyone owns the bus? Every single taxpayer owns a fractional share of the public transit infrastructure, so everyone can be proud of what we made as a group. You're certainly right, but nobody is proud of the power lines, or all the pee we clean up before it hits the river. Shareholding isn't thing-holding: just ask all the folks who own a teeny tiny bit of Microsoft, but can't point to the specific chunk of the building they're responsible for. We're weird that way, us apes.

Don't worry. Like I told my first boss, I don't like to bring problems to you, only solutions. Have you ever been by one of those charity things where you can get your name on a brick, or a bench, if you donate? I think they should do the same thing about buses. Nobody stirs the imagination about ol' #7345, even if it does have a page all to itself on the transit-aficionados wiki. If it has a name – a real citizen, just like you! – things are different. What is their life like? Maybe they're riding on this bus, in secret? They could be any of these people. An instant celebrity, immortalized by some letters painted on the side of a white box with wheels.

Sure, there are some gaps in this plan. Some people won't want to have their names associated with a bus, because their lives are terrible and sad and very small. We don't really have enough buses to give each contributor one. And some will get downright weird about it, demanding to ride only on "their" bus.

I, too, have a solution for this: make all the buses much smaller, roughly Power Wheels-sized, and have them seat only one person at a time. Then we'll just put them on a big track, like at bumper cars, and let everyone go hog wild on each other on their way to work. I just so happen to have recently taken delivery of a large quantity of bumper cars from a reputable former amusement park...

[what-shitfuckery-is-this-ew]

What is the dream smp drama ?

tl;dr called all Tommyinnit fans the r slur, deleted the tweet and didn't apologise till waaaay later, before which he made multiple streams and all the shit about him started coming out again (because his streams made everything worse). Tubbo made a stream about it in a very mature way by asking to talk on stream (Dream has a history of cutting private conversations up to make other creators look bad) and eventually it just turned into Tubbo vs Dream because Tommy blocked him, and Dream started being a shit to Tubbo. Most of the dsmp, some outside ccs, and editors/twitter folk who were in the fandom got involved revealing more stuff about Dream and how shitty he was.

Full timeline + ~16 hours worth of Tubbo stream below

BOO. This is gonna take too long so i'm posting it before it's finished and gonna edit it over time. As Tubbo himself said, this situation is a death by a 1000 cuts (small problems which kinda blew up recently)

Dream and Quackity had drama. That's a whole other thing and i'm not sure we can really go into it without this being comparable to Do you love the colour of the sky so we'll assume you know what happened there. (~April 2022)

A little after this were the first set of grooming allegations against Dream, made by Alexandria (October 2022)

This just caused the dsmp to kinda just fall out

Tommy made a video entitled "If Youtubers were Honest" which included a part on the Dream vs Quackity (5 Aug 2023)

Dream texted Tom's mum, bro literally harassed Tom's mum

fast forward to 2025:

Tommyinnit calls Mizkif the worst person he’s knows

Mizkif calls Tommy cringe and annoying which xQc also does in his reaction to Mizkif's stream

Tommy called xQc a trump supporter (true)

xQc had a public meltdown saying Trump is cool and that Tommy is dickriding Dream (but he does this by giving free promo to Tommy's show)

Dream quotes with the following meme.

This is where our path also diverges because there are so many streamers. Everyone reacts to the tweet and Dream deletes it.

Then Dream ranted to reddit saying he didn’t understand cause he’s autistic so he should be able to reclaim it (stupidest thing i’ve ever heard). It was meant to be his "apology". He also mentioned that the public’s reaction to Nicolas Cantu doing the same was generally positive (while i do agree most of the public went overboard in terms of support for Cantu especially when he used slurs as insults - most people only focused on him calling out Dream for covering up assaults and being weird around women and children + after the initial hype died down most people did agree his use of slurs and harassment of the driver was horrible - hence why he’s literally gone. He has no upcoming roles and he's def not coming back for the tmnt sequel). The biggest issue here is how instead of taking accountability he’s pulling this whataboutism card.

Also just a note that he claims he saw the meme, but people did the reverse image search - he created it.

id: Genuinely still confused on what the "rules" are. Honestly not trying to be obtuse, multiple people go viral calling me the r word and everyone explains that its ok because they're neurodivergent, so then I see a meme that uses it and post it and get absolutely throttled for it. Obviously it's the internet being disingenous, but that doesn't completely invalidate anyone that might be upset by it. Most of the people calling me ableist for using it are the same people that lit off fireworks when Nicolas Cantu was the slur slinging slasher (including Tommy's closest friends). it's either okay or it's not okay, the double standards are infuriating. I have my own reasons for having a problem with Tommy going around being the "internet police" and was expecting to get a lot of shit for going after poor Tommy that lies about me constantly, but obviously i had no intentions of attacking every Dream SMP fan or being ableist lmao. It was a dig at Tommy fans, because somehow the worst of the ex dream smp stans have congregated all to make up lies and shit on other creators and Tommy feeds right into it to promote his patreon, shows or wharever else he's currently promoting, because he has absolutely no backbone. Either way, my lesson from this is that twitter is somehow even less reasonable than i thought in the first place, oh and don't use the r word under any circumstances even if you see a funny meme and you're autistic. Lesson learned, hopefully i can be forgiven. Back to coding

Tubbo did a 1 hour stream on this. Technically he did a 7 hour stream he cut into bits, but for the sake of the timeline making sense, he made a 1 hour stream. He was gonna talk to Dream on stream. He agrees that his friends do shit talk more than he's comfortable with BUT

Why is Dream only getting involved and doing this much when Tommy insulted xQc and not you know when he called Dream a pedo

You can't reclaim a slur if you use it as an insult

He thought this entire thing was Dream ragebaiting to get people ready for a new song or smth, and he reminded the audience of Nicolas Cantu being drunk.

"If you don't want to be made fun of for doing shitty things just stop doing shitty things"

Tommy in this time released a video saying he blocked Dream and that it was horrible that Dream used the r slur. From this point Tubbo decided against calling Dream, instead watching Dream's 3 hour stream on the topic and reacting to it.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Forsaken AU PLOT

Ok, usually I’m like “nah I don’t want to share because I want it to be a surprise!” But let’s be real. Given how many other obsessions I have, and my attention span, and time and energy… who knows if this will ever get written. So I’ll share so we can all be excited about it :)

Anyway. So the basic premise of the Forsaken AU, of course, is that impending doom is coming and Zelda, being the overconfident and eager princess that she is, tries to claim the Triforce for herself to defend her kingdom, and it fractures as a result. She has to find Link, but there are eighty thousand Links in Hyrule, so she has to sort through all of them and she finds Gerudo Link and Mystery Link.

The impending darkness, of course, is Ghirahim, because he’s just goofy and ridiculous enough to fit the vibe of this plot. Mystery accidentally revived him a year or two ago and has been trying to rectify that ever since. Ghirahim, of course, is trying to revive Demise. At first he seeks to do so through Gerudo Link, recognizing that Ganondorf often willingly hosted Demise’s malice. Gerudo’s just like “…dude. No. Why are you being weird.”

Eventually Zelda manages to haul Mystery and Gerudo back to her family, whether it’s before or after she’s realized they both bear Triforce pieces, idk, probably after, maybe they had a confrontation with Ghirahim and it revealed it or something. But the Queen remembers Mystery, of course, and asks him to take up the mantle of Hero once more to save Hyrule from impending darkness.

Mystery. Does NOT. Want to get back into Main Plot land. But he knows he can’t stop it, especially since he freed Ghirahim anyway. He hates it. But he tries to take the Master Sword. But he’s too terrified. So he asks Fi to allow Gerudo to wield the sword as well, and he has Gerudo help him pull the Master Sword from the pedestal before handing it off to him.

Zelda is thrilled, of course, because she was right on BOTH accounts for the Links. The queen is bemused but will accept the sword’s decision. Gerudo is horrified that he got tossed into this “WAIT A SECOND YOU ASKED ME TO HELP YOU PULL IT OUT NOT JUST HAND IT OFF TO ME HANG ON—“

But Mystery? Suddenly he is Full Throttle. He starts training Gerudo Link as hard as he can. They spend a month drilling, and he tells Zelda she better have her magic ready.

And then he vanishes. Zelda’s stunned - surely… surely he didn’t actually just Nope out of there after dumping his responsibility on Gerudo??

In reality, Mystery went to seek out Ghirahim himself. Mystery knows that his own magic is powerful in controlling spirits. He started this mess, and he’ll try to finish it himself, in a way where nobody else is involved. He knows this is either going to work or backfire spectacularly, which is why his backup was to train Gerudo to know exactly how to fight him so he’d kill him if something went wrong.

Instead of being able to confront Ghirahim, though, Mystery comes in as the demon lord is about to sacrifice an entire village to try and resurrect a piece of Demise. Instead, Mystery decides to really take a gambit… he offers himself as a host for Demise.

He has magic to control spirits. He has a piece of the Triforce. Let’s play a little.

Possessed Mystery Link is a terrifying sight to behold, but it saves the village, because Mystery is fighting Demise’s control with every fiber of his being. Unfortunately, Zelda and Gerudo came to confront him about leaving, and now they’re stuck with Demise trying to control Mystery.

Good news is that Demise isn’t the same strength he was when Ghirahim used Hylia to resurrect him - he’s a ghost of his former power, even if that’s still extremely formidable. As such, Mystery does fight Gerudo and Zelda for a while, but he eventually wrestles control over himself enough to kick the malice out of his body, earning himself the right to the full Triforce, and then the real battle begins, with Gerudo using the Master Sword, Zelda using her light arrows, and Mystery using his magic to essentially lasso a leash onto the demonic Ganon form to reel him in. I suppose Ghirahim’s in the midst of this too, maybe Zelda took him out during the initial fight because she deserves to kick his butt >:)

Anyway, the image of Dark Beast Ganon going toe to toe with Zelda, armed with her bow and arrows, Gerudo, armed with the Master Sword, and Mystery, eyes glowing gold with the Triforce on his left hand while he uses a golden leash to bring the beast to heel so the other two can fight it was too cool an image to not mention >:D

[beanghostprincess]

Follow up of the Marco And Shanks Feuding Over Buggy -

Once things resolve, the captains are somehow the WORST instigators. Roger, once he realized Marco was flirting with his Baby Bug, is caught between "well, kid has good taste" and "Oh I Gotta Kill A Child".

Whitebeard makes frequent comments about daughter in laws and it sends EVERYONE reeling, especially Buggy. He thinks it's hilarious, and it mostly joking ((but a little serious)).

Maybe it's the multishipper in me, maybe it's the polyamory projection, but eventually Shanks and Buggy have The Conversation about being captains of the own crews, of being each other's most definitely, of being married ((they are 13-15 when The End Is Nigh for Roger, and I can see Buggy having a sudden realization that Captain that Dad is dying. She and Shanks speedrun being married so he can do it. They're minors so it isn't official, but they get/make rings, set it up and have Captain officiate it so they're "married". It's the closest they'll get to the real deal and both need their dad there for this.)).

Shanks and Buggy establish an open relationship. They can be with and pursue others, but communication is key and they need to just keep each other relatively in the loop.

Buggy jokingly asks if Marco is still a sore subject, and Shanks shoots her a grin. "If you stay mine, you can be with whoever you like. Just promise me you will make sure he treats you the way you deserve, princess."

The next time Marco crosses either, it's Shanks. And he asks "hey featherhead, still crushing on clowns?"

"And if I am?"

"Here's her denden number - be nice, be polite, don't hurt her or I'll roast you for dinner, chicken boy :))"

"What"

"Byyyyeeeee~"

"No wait what-yoi-?"

Buggy goes on to assemble the world's weirdest, most unexpected polycule. A Yonko husband, a Yonko's division commander boyfriend, two warlords, a Marine, maybe a Revolutionary, just... wild ass polycule.

((Bonus, once she settles in the East for a bit, Zeff takes one look at her and goes "Oh boy now I have a niece. Damn it all." He threatens to shovel talk anyone who dates his weird clown niece but they rarely stop by the East, so he's got the conversations scripted in his head. When Mihawk shows up, he is READY.))

Buggy also has a bunch of evil exes bc she's a catch but she doesn't always clock red flags. It's mostly fine, but if any attempt retaliation, usually she's oblivious, either bc her crew goes full Protect Mom Mode or bc her current partners... take out the trash, as it were :))

Once Luffy realizes Buggy is basically his step mom is all sorts of ways, the Strawhat Protection System is enacted full throttle. She is oblivious. It's hilarious. Buggy has Scary Dog Privileges and doesn't even realize.

Whitebeard still calls her daughter-in-law. Roger is screaming crying throwing up in the afterlife. Rayleigh flips between "Oh my baby girl can handle herself ahe's so strong" and "Nobody Is Good Enough For My Daughter". Crocus hoards all newspapers that so much as mention her or Shanks.

Just. Silly funny polycule shenanigans.

Buggy just has a whole ass harem of boys pining over her and she goes through life thinking they're normal about her but they're not. They're literally obsessed with her. She only loves Shanks and is fond of Crocodile and Mihawk (ends up falling for them eventually, y'know) and the people she has been with have always been just kind of there? She doesn't forget them but she doesn't really care about them either. IT girl, girlboss behavior for once even if she's still a failgirl. But they always remember her. She's not easy to forget. Everybody that loves her is so protective of her too and she wonders why she never gets bothered by anybody?? She believes it's because she's now important and scary and yadda yadda but it's just because people have to go through Rayleigh, the strawhats, Shanks, and Cross Guild to get to her. So, you know, she's protected.

This is just amazing, btw. I also think they have an open relationship. And Marco being extremely confused when Shanks gives him Buggy's number is just hilarious, help. He's having a moment there wondering if it's a trap or something. I think Buggy would have the time of her life, and although Shanks also sleeps with other people, his heart will always be with Buggy. Like- He's the clingiest most annoying husband in the world. He's so proud of calling Buggy his wife. He's just there cheering for her, knowing that no matter how many people she's with, she'll go back to him!! The trust they could've had in each other if things would've gone well,,,,,, Going insane.

[yellowocaballero]

that Jason and Tim in the diner snippet was everything I could have ever wanted.... you're so good at writing Jason and youre absolutely my favorite writer of him (which I should mention is very big considering how many Jason fics I've read) and just. head in my hands. he's such a fucking weirdo. and so is tim. everyone in this family is so weird. I love it

Thank you!!! Wild to hear considering how I've written him substantially once and tangentially once. I think the fandom's a bit overfocused on him (and Tim), and while I've read some really really good Jasons I've also seen some more boring ones. I think my opinion can partially boil down into: you know that he doesn't, like, have to rejoin the family, right? That it might not even be the best thing for him? That a happy ending doesn't necessarily have to include Jason resuming his old place in the family? Maybe we can leave him alone to be in his shitty apartment and smoke weed and be in a polycule with Roy and Starfire.

Covid Puppy actually had a LOT of things to say about Jason. He haunts the narrative fucking bigtime. There's stuff to say about it. Here's a little bit of the story's opinions about Jason, and the role Jason has in this mythology.

As a little bit of context: in a certain point in the comics, Batman was an urban legend. This is a whole thing in Covid puppy, and the story utilizes Batman as a mythological god-like figure. Tim worships that figure, in his own way. Jason has always been a story Tim's told himself, and Jason is the story that Tim wants to tell through the voice of Robin.

Morons arguing under the cut.

By the time Tim and Jason finally met up again, Tim was carefully scrutinizing a baggie of coke and Jason was carrying a stack of polaroids paperclipped together. They stopped short and looked at each other. Tim eyed the polaroids with ill-disguised interest. Jason looked confused, right up until he looked pissed. 

He slammed the door shut behind him, striding forward and grabbing the baggie out of Tim’s hands. He throttled the bag in his fist, and for the first time Jason actually looked furious.

“Who the fuck gave you this? Who the fuck is giving coke to a minor?”

“The girl you told me to chat up gave it to me.” Jesus, look at this. Yet again Tim had fucked up a basic assignment in some stupid and inscrutable way. “And I’m undercover as, like, an adult. Was this not supposed to happen?”

“No! Yes! Ugh, whatever.” Jason crammed the baggie in his pants, as if he was remotely hiding it from Tim or removing it from reach whatsoever. “You do a lot of drugs, kid?”

Despite common sense, Tim had the impression that there was a right and wrong answer here. Lucky that he didn’t have to lie. “Too dangerous. Everyone took the real drugs years ago, and we’ve been living off homebrew dope since. That shit could be cut with anything. Mad Hatter and Killer Croc are the main manufacturers anyway, so you’re kinda choosing between pedophile brainwash juice and sewer juice. No thanks. I don’t take anything Ivy doesn’t grow.” At Jason’s tilting eyebrow, Tim hurriedly said, “Weed! Her weed! For teens!”

She grew shit that was not weed, but that's none of Tim’s business. She mostly reserved it for personal use - she could have made a killing if she widely sold it, but Ivy wanted to keep the rest of Gotham as miserable as possible to keep making her own utopia look even better. She eschewed worldly greed, mainly because it kept up her saintly self-concept and reminded everybody else that she had fresh strawberries and they were eating garbage. All mana was kept strictly in-house. This was, of course, a massive deviation from Tim’s other living situation. 

“I found that out for myself, thanks.” Jason looked somewhat mollified. Tim’s heart rate settled down. “Keep it that way. Nothing’s more dangerous than regular coke cut with God-knows-what.”

What was Tim’s life? So much for the consistency teens supposedly need. Dick’s parenting books were nothing but lies. “Bro, you can either stop me from doing drugs or you can be a drug lord. Can’t do both.” 

“What am I, some kind of role model?” Jason snapped. He probably just wanted to look scary, but he couldn’t chase off the human shadow over his expression. “I’m not your parent, I’m not your brother, so it doesn’t matter what I do. Just don’t do any of it!”

Tim was way too drunk for any of that to make sense. It didn’t make sense at all. It probably didn’t even make sense to Jason, no matter how badly he wanted it to. Jason didn’t want Catherine Todd to take up any space in this conversation - in this life Jason had chosen to live. She wouldn’t have wanted this for him. Tim wondered what his parents had wanted for him. An Ivy League, maybe?

Was that unfair? Tim didn’t mean it that way. Tim just didn’t remember his family stressing out about stuff like that. They had just wanted him to be successful - because, implied therein, he would be happy. He couldn’t remember anything more specific than that. Maybe they just hadn’t spoken about it. Maybe they’d all assumed that there would be time enough for that when he was older. When he was older…

“If you’re not my brother,” Tim said, “then give me that coke back.”

Jason froze. He squeezed his eyes shut, banishing something before Tim could see it, before forcing them open. “It’s gonna be part of the rules that kids don’t get drugs. I’ve already decided. I’m gonna be better than Roman Sionis. A thousand percent. I’m going to fix things, Tim. There’s not gonna be any more kids like you and me in Gotham. So stop being a brat and getting in my way.” 

Tim couldn’t help it - he laughed. He fell back onto the bed, letting the world dip and whirl. His vision was swimming. Being drunk for almost twenty four hours straight was surprisingly un-fun. Tim had really just been trying to score a spring break experience here. Like a normal kid, partying with his zombie drug lord pseudo-brother. Brother via another man with Eldest Daughter Syndrome’s manifestations. Not a brother at all. How could he be? That would require having somebody other than Cass. 

“That’s such a Jason Todd thing to say!” Tim cackled. He knew his words were slurring, but Tim thrived on living down to expectations. “Your whole-ass plan’s revolving around doing the opposite of what Jason Todd would do, but that was a bonafide Jason Todd speech -”

Jason snarled, but Tim couldn’t see if his eyes were flashing green. The ceiling fan was churning so excellently. “Don’t fucking talk about me like I’m a character!”

“Wasn’t that the point? That there was something Robin would do, something you would say? If it’s not a story, then Jason Todd’s just a dead boy. It’s the story that keeps you alive. That’s the story I couldn’t let die.” Tim’s world was ducking and weaving. He didn’t really know what he was saying anymore. “Do you think a regular kid can come back to life? So don’t complain…who wouldn’t want to be Jason Todd, you know?” 

“You’re the only person insane enough to think that way.” Jason’s voice was twisted, shaking with tension and Tim couldn’t tell why. “Batman as a commedia dell’arte character, that was all Dick. I was the one who made him into an anthropomorphized force of nature, a damn pantheonic god. He was supposed to be the god of justice. What the hell happened to that?” 

Tim pushed himself up on trembling arms, braving the motion-sickness to squint at Jason. He looked sick too. “Are you kidding? Batman’s more of a god than ever. He’s been the answer to Gotham’s prayers for years.”

“Rich kid! Gotham sound like a prayer to you? It’s a cry for justice!” Jason stepped forward and jabbed a finger at Tim’s chest. Tim managed not to flinch this time. Maybe it was the waver in Jason’s voice. Lost, and calling for home. “Batman’s the cry that’s heard. He’s meant to listen! But all Bruce ever hears is the sound of his own voice. The Joker needed justice and he didn’t listen. His own damn children are crying for help and he couldn’t hear them. Who the hell is telling the story now? Is anybody even listening? Am I the only one left who gives a shit?”

And, despite everything, Jason had managed to hurt Tim after all. 

“What about me?” Tim asked. “Do I look like I don’t give a shit?”

“You look like a cultist.” Jason’s face was hard, and no shadow crossed it. In this, at least, he held conviction. “I never wanted Robin to end up like you. You’re the last thing I fucking wanted. Bruce spat on my fucking grave with you.”

Wow. Ha ha. That had been fun while it lasted. Having delusions was great. Fantasies, dreams, wishes - warmth in a cold night, so long as they stayed stories. Fantasies weren’t meant to come true. A dream that came to life was a nightmare. Tim had to wonder if he was having a nightmare right now. 

Jason Todd hated Tim Drake. Well, get in fucking line. 

“You’re right,” Tim said brightly. The world was spinning, but Tim’s head felt bright and clear. Too bright to see. “I’m Bruce’s fuck-up. He tells me that all the time. But I guess that means I’m your fuck-up too. So take some responsibility, will you?” Tim laughed a little, and Jason’s eyes widened. “I listened to every word you had to say, Jason. I loved each one. So if you’re gonna blame Bruce for filling this fucked up kid’s head with poison, then you better blame yourself too. Or man up and beat me half to death like you meant to do.”

Jason recoiled, and Tim laughed again. “How’d you -”

“Read your diary. Duh. You did a shit job hiding it, by the way.” He hadn’t, but Tim was good. “C’mon, Jason. Fix your mistake.”

But Jason only stared at him, holding himself as if he was wounded. As if Tim was the one who had written incredibly detailed plans to beat him to death.

Sorry. Almost to death. The ‘almost’ had been underlined. Jason wouldn’t kill Tim. And Tim forgave him for it, because Tim would forgive him anything. He was already forgiving him this. Why wouldn’t he? 

The answer loved the question. The response loved the call. The echo loved the shout. Batman loved Gotham, Robin loved Batman, and Dick loved Bruce. The pain loved the injury, the blood loved the crowbar, the rubble loved the explosion, and Tim loved Jason. Even though Cass was the only person who would ever love him.

But Jason just stood there, looking at him. The hypocrite and coward. Tim knew what his body was saying, but he no longer had any interest in hearing it. Tim stood up, wrenched the bedroom door open, and stalked away. Jason didn’t follow him.

Which was a good thing. He ran into a wall twice. If Jason had seen that then he might have actually died from embarrassment. Because he still cared. For some reason.

Maybe he wasn’t drunk enough.

[ashsimpsalot]

thank you for doing god's work and blessing us with wonderful monkey man fics 🫡

if youre taking requests, id like to make one with a blackwidow!reader, she's undercover at the hotel as well and was confused when someone made an attempt at rana singh then tracks kid down and even helps him train. they go through the fight together and after that they start a new life in the end 🫶

sorry if its too specific, feel free to make any changes however you like and tysm in advance if you decide to do this 🩷✨️

The lack of kid x reader content is killing me. I'm glad you liked my fics though, thank you for reading! THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVER ERM

I've never written action before, hopefully I do this fic justice. Im sorry if it just seem like I'm yapping😭

Hands Up (Kid X Blackwidow!Reader)

Holy Fuck!

You've been undercover in India for almost 2 months and you didn't even know autos could drift like that!

You're hot on their trail, abusing the throttle to its limit.

Whoever this guy is, he's either extremely ballsy, or extremely stupid to go after Rana Singh like that.

The helmet didn't help with the shooting sounds at all, you couldn't take it anymore, drifting away and avoiding to be near but near enough that you could see where the guy was going. Your already ringing ears would go deaf if you trailed them any closer.

Shit he went into an alleyway.

Your eyes trailed around the road.

Bingo

Another alley that links to his spot.

Maybe it took you 5 minutes extra but once you got there, the auto was already flipped onto its side, empty. The policemen were chasing someone who's running on foot.

Running on the fucking roof!

Limping.

You twisted the throttle of the motorbike to chase after him but he ended up falling onto the road after an officer shot his leg

You hit the brakes. Tires screeching loud at how sudden the brake was. Stopping the bike right in front of him.

"get the fuck on! Hurry!"

He looked confused but decided to question it later and hopped on.

You zoomed away from the place, going into an alley an coming out the other, making sure no one sees where you guys were headed.

His grip on your waist loosens.

Oh no he's losing blood.

"man don't pass out on me yet!" you yelled, making sure he heard but his answer was mumbling and gibberish. Before he could limp off of the bike, you reached back and placed one hand on his back.

You sighed and accepted your fate, your arms going to hurt from the weird position but at least he won't fall off.

You zoomed right to the temple, dragging this tall building of a man in with you all by yourself.

You called on Alpha, she almost chuckle at how you struggle to bring the man in.

"I told you, child, if you need help, ask for it," she said like a mother nagging her child while helping you steady the man.

"I am asking for help, help this guy," you reply mumbling like a teenager after being scolded, she let's out a huff and guided the man onto the makeshift bed.

"wait outside, take care of your own wounds, hm? There's food in the kitchen, eat up," she said softly then closes the curtain.

A pang in your heart, she's like a mother to all these people here and to you too. You didn't expect to step foot on the motherland and gain an actual mother figure.

When you hear the man screaming in agony you knew exactly what she was doing as you yourself was on that makeshift bed a month ago.

You chuckled and went to the kitchen.

After indulging in a plate of naan and a cup of coffee, you sighed and lean against the chair, closing your eyes, floating in a food coma. finally taking the well needed rest you've been procrastinating.

That is until a soft pinch on your shoulder startle you.

"I told you to tend to your wounds first, child," Alpha scolded, dragging a chair in front of you with the small medical box in her hands.

25 years of training, nothing could get past you.... except for Alpha. For some reason she has a way to sneak up on you.

You gave a silly smile, letting her tend to your light wounds. "I was hungry," she hummed dismissively.

"the man is alright, he'll need a few hours before he regain consciousness. Who is he?" she asked, eyes still pinned onto the cut on your arm.

"he tried to go after Rana Singh, all by himself, in Queenie's hotel with a small gun. I think he could've succeeded but not sure what made him miss the shot," you said simply.

"why did you help him?"

"he's stupid but I saw how he fought, he's got potential,"

Alpha hums and packs the medical box. "and maybe because he has a pretty face," you joked while grinning at her. She chuckled and shook her head and stood up.

"your bed roll is still unused," she said, some guilt creeps up on you. You left, after staying with them for a month, to go after Queenie.

"thank you,"

You went to take a little nap.

When you open your eyes again, you heard chaotic voices of confusion. The guy had woken up.

"hey, clam down,"

"you? You're... The chef?" he's more confused than ever. You nodded. "look, you're still recovering, take it easy and sit down. I'll explain everything."

He seemed reluctant but sat down on the nearest branch anyway.

"who..are you?" he asked, eyes pinning on his fidgetung hands.

You started with your name and he nodded. Taking a few seconds, wondering where to start.

"I'm a blackwidow, well, was a Blackwidow, after the fall of the red room most widows just work with each other trying to free others who were injected with mind controlling serum."

Blackwidow? His mind flashed to pictures of the only famous widow, Natasha Romanoff, the fucking avenger? He looked confused but try to take in what you said.

"but I didn't do that. I came for revenge."

"revenge? On whom?" he looked up at you, you knew that look in his eyes, you see them in your own everyday, the thirst for revenge, sunk in a sea of violence.

"They ship kids, the red room, they take us in very very young." you started with a heavy voice, you've told this story multiple times but fuck, knowing you're so near to where it happened is just too much.

"and where do you get kids, untraced, unwanted, unregistered kids?" your eyes lifted to look at him, as if quizzing him. He shook his head as a sign that he never thought about that.

"human trafficking rings, prostitution rings and Queenie just happen to have the biggest rings in whole of fucking Asia,"

He furrowed his eyebrows. He's known a fair share of prostitute, most of them keep their kids, at least his mother kept him, but his mother did left to live somewhere else.

"Queenie has a reportation to uphold, she can't have legal cases against her, she can't have her girls die from multiple abortion, the kids will just be threads someone could pull and find out the truth so she cuts em. Take all the kids and ship them for the red room. She got a ton of money for that too,"

He looked horrified, he didn't even know that was a thing people fucking do.

"I want to put a stop to this, maybe there red room is gone but she's still doing something with those kids,"

He looked up at you and nodded, he understood.

"what about you? Going after Rana Singh by yourself like that, in his own slice of heaven,"

He sighed then stared off into the distance, he's eyeing the kids who were giggling and chasing each other in the middle of the temple.

A sense of innocence both of you lost a long time ago.

"he killed my mother," you sucked in a quick breath. Mother, you're both avenging your mothers then. Though he's avenging a woman he knew and you don't event know the name of yours.

"then we better get ready. I saw you, when you were fighting. You fight a lot?"

"at the ring. For money" you nodded, you know of the tiger temple, an excuse to gamble, honestly.

"I realise you let your left hand go idle for too long, we'll work on that," you simply said and stood up.

"though for now, you should rest, I'm going for a shower, Alpha will bag my ears off if she realise I took a nap before showering."

You offered him a smile, half joking.

The next few weeks are dedicated to teaching him, reminding him not to neglect his left hand. Another habit you see is that he sucks in and hold his breath in while throwing a punch, leaving his breathing a little erratic after a long fight.

"there you go, Kid!" you yelled with a smile after he basically torn the makeshift punching bag.

He walked towards you. "was that good?"

You nodded though a silly smile creeped on your lips. "yeah, had the whole temple screaming, I bet it was because your lack of clothing," you teased. Kid smiled, a genuine smile, and thanked you.

One night he went missing, two nights before diwali, a bag of money was hung on one of the branches with a note with his writing on it.

You went to find him and when you did he looked apologetic.

"I told you, we're doing this together," you said, hitting him with a slap on his stupid face. He turned back to look at you. "I'm sorry I... I had to fight in that ring alone."

His voice soft but fuck, his lips looks softer, maybe he saw that desire in your eyes because he had them in his own. He pulled your arms softly, leaning down to kiss you on your lips.

"we stick together, that's the plan," you breathed softly after he pulled away. Kid, being himself, didn't say anything and nodded.

He didn't think he could've kept that promise but he did.

The night of diwali, you dragged him out of the burning hotel, he had passed out after killing Baba Shakti.

He woke up to the same scene he did almost 2 months ago but this time with familiar faces and a heavier feel in his chest, relief. Relief that he's alive, that's new for him.

"you're awake," you said. He looked dreamy, that's also new.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, worried if he had lost too much blood or hit his head too hard somewhere. Your hands carefully trace his face, head even body to inspect if Alpha had missed a wound somewhere.

He shook his head, toon your wandering hands in his and smiled.

Fuck, he's finally home.

With the woman he loves, a sanctuary that might need fixing but filled with pure love, a worried woman that plays a role his mother played years ago.

He had a reason to live.

"I love you," Kid whispered, he trued to think of the last time he's said that but no memory came up.

Your eyes soften and that day he fell deeper.

"I love you too"

A few years later he'd tell the kids that laid on his chest, with his hair and your eyes, a smile on his face, proudly tracing the memory of how the wild monkey finally find his peace with a spider.

The little girl laughed. "amma'a a spider!" she would repeat that again and again as if that's the funniest thing her appa ever said, her brother chasing after her, suddenly it's a game of tag.

"don't run!" Alpha would scold after the two almost bumping into her, scared that she'll accidentally spill the drink she's taken for herself.

Kid laughed.

His life is perfect.

It's perfect.