#don't be afraid to send asks

[poorlittlegreenie13]

Greenie's Masterlist — Come & join the party <3

About Me:

Hi! My name is Greenie, which is a reference from David Bowie's song The Jean Genie which has the lyric "Poor little Greenie" in it.

I'm a 20-something lesbian virgo, triple earth sign, eternal-student, Donna Tartt enthusiast, 90's alt rock enthusiast, record-collector, & fic writer <3.

This blog doesn't have a specific theme... I go wherever the muses take me. Below you'll find links to & descriptions of all of my fics sorted by fandom.

Link to my AO3

Stories:

The Bear:

Rules For (fake) Dating an Italian 🇮🇹 - Sydney/Carmy. Complete, WC: 100K.

WANTED: Female, aged 20-30, to be my date for Christmas eve dinner with my Italian family. Must be willing to eat my mom’s cooking. No physical intimacy required. No strings attached—I will drive you home after. 4pm-10pm, 12/24. Salary negotiable. Call Carmen: (773) 555-0901.

OR: The one in which Sydney just needs a job, and Carmy will die before he proves Richie right.

Yellowjackets:

Wretched Things 🔥 - Jackie/Shauna, Taissa/Van, Lottie/Natalie. Complete, WC: 260K

It’s been five years since Shauna Sadecki volunteered for Jackie Taylor at the Reaping and won the 45th Hunger Games. Now, at the second annual Quarter Quell, everyone who has been previously Reaped is eligible to be thrown back into the arena. That includes former best friends Lottie and Natalie, and former lovers Van and Taissa.

(aka, me offering up another Yellowjackets Hunger Games AU)

The Killing of a Sacred Doe 🦌 - Lottie/Natalie, Jackie/Shauna, (minor Tai/Van, minor Natalie/Shauna). In progress.

|| Inspired by The Secret History by Donna Tartt || (but can be read without having read TSH)

By every metric that matters, Natalie Scatorccio should not have been admitted to Wiskayok Conservatory for The Arts. She didn’t have the test scores, or the tuition money, or any particular talent or ambition that might have made her a promising asset for a conservatory to acquire. She did have a drinking problem, a dead father, and no other option. So sure, why not art school? It was better than rehab. Or jail. 

let the light in 🖤 - Van/Taissa. Complete, WC: 5k.

“Take me home, please, Van.”

Taissa’s words are soft. Not a question, just a destination. They have always been heading here.

(Post finale getting-back-together fic)

Six of Crows / Shadow & Bone:

angelum mortis amo 🪽 - Jesper/Wylan. Complete, WC: 45k.

Jesper and Wylan are both hitmen from rival gangs. Wylan tries to kill Jesper. It goes about as well as you might expect.

(Featuring crazy-in-love Wylan Van Eck, flirting-at-gunpoint Jesper Fahey, and mob boss Kaz Brekker).

Show Me Yours 🐦‍⬛ - Jesper/Wylan. Complete, WC: 20k.

Wylan's past abuse hovers over him like a shadow. Jesper's gambling addiction binds him like a chain. But as they grow closer, it turns out secrets can melt like ice in the right kind of warmth.

(A character study of TV show-Wylan & Jesper & the way their backstories could factor into the progression of their relationship).

Stranger Things:

Star Star ✨ - Steve/Eddie (minor Chrissy/Robin). Complete, WC: 93K.

Rock band AU in which Robin, Eddie, Jonathan, Nancy, and Chrissy play in a band, and Steve has no choice but to hang out with the most annoying frontman in the world, Eddie Munson. Things escalate when they're forced to pretend they're in a relationship.

Modern AU, fake-dating (kind of).

I Buried a Hatchet (it's coming up lavender) 🪓 - Robin/Nancy (minor Steve/Eddie). Complete, WC: 60K.

Vecna nearly killed Robin before Nancy could take him out for good. Luckily, Robin's too stubborn to die, and Nancy's too stubborn to let her. Nursing her back to health, Nancy soon begins to question the feelings that almost losing Robin awoke in her.

In which Nancy has to do everything herself, compulsory heterosexuality is a bitch, and Robin Buckley is more charming than she thinks she is.

Harry Potter / Marauders:

Burn, Pine, Perish 🎶 - James/Regulus (minor Sirius/Remus). Complete, WC: 33k.

Sirius' family has magically forbidden him from dating anyone until Regulus finds a suitable pureblood partner. The problem is, Sirius is in love with a certain werwolf, and Regulus' romantic inclinations remain a mystery.

James, a pureblood, is nothing if not eager to help a friend.

AKA - A '10 Things I Hate About You' AU in which James attempts to woo Regulus so Sirius can have a chance with Remus.

Lonely Bones 🦴 - Draco/Hermione. Incomplete, on indefinite hiatus, I'm sorry, please stop asking me when I'm going to finish it, your guess is as good as mine, final answers is... sometime, probably, maybe?

Hermione Granger can't sleep. Draco Malfoy can't walk. The war is over, but it feels like it isn't. Neither of them are happy, but maybe the times together are better than the times apart. 

Draco is cursed in the battle of Hogwarts with unhealable bone fractures. Hermione is in desperate need of money to bring her parents back from Australia, and when Narcissa offers her a job attempting to cure Draco, she has no choice but to take it.

A League of Their Own:

It's Rotten Work 💐 - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 10K.

Nobody's ever taken care of Jess McCready.

Not until she met Lupe García, anyway.

(In which Jess is oblivious, Lupe is romantic, and both of them are a little bit confused.)

Devour What's Truly Yours 🏴‍☠️ written in collaboration with the lovely @somebodytoundress - Jess/Lupe. Complete, WC: 37K.

Lupe Garcia had planned to go down with her pirate ship when it was raided by Spanish soldiers one dreadful night. Bleeding out on the deck, she accepted her fate—until an infamous ghostly captain with no name and a haunting face rescued her from the burning ship and nursed her back to health. With no ship, no crew, and no fortune, the solution is clear for Lupe. She‘s going to kill this captain and take over her crew so she may return to ruling the seas. And she’s definitely not going to fall in love with her.

Simply Elegant 🚬 - Jess/Lupe. Complete, WC: 7K.

Lupe is the most popular jock in school.

Jess is a burnout weed dealer.

Lupe goes to Jess to buy weed for a party, and things progress from there.

Bein' Good Isn't Always Easy ⛪️ - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 32K.

The hottest part of summer, working in a guitar shop in the heart of Texas, Jess has the worst sunburn of her life. And she has the hots for the preacher’s daughter. She’s not sure which is worse.

Sing Me to Sleep 🌃 - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 5K.

Lupe's past comes back to haunt her on the anniversary of an important date.

Jess tries to understand. They fall a bit deeper in love.

Slice of life.

Keep Your Electric Eye on Me, Babe ⚡️- Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 4K.

Five times Jess caught Lupe's eye when she shouldn't have + one time Lupe did something about it.

Fever With Thy Flaming Youth 🌡️ - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 2.5K.

Estí gets the flu. Jess & Lupe take care of her.

FAQs

Can I translate your fic?

Please ask first! We can discuss details.

Can I bind/print your fic?

As long as it's legal and no one is profiting off of it, go wild, send pictures when you're done!

Why haven't you updated (insert fic)?

Either I lost interest in it for some reason, or I got really excited about something else & intend to return to it, or I have something personal going on & can't write as much. Sorry!

Can I make fan art of your fic?

PLEASE make fan art of my fic. Please send it to me when you're done so I can share it!!!!

[ananinidraws]

So who would be the first person to discover Bowser and Mario's relationship?

Princess Peach for sure

But not really in a way that she just one day happened upon it. She’s the main spectator of their pining asses, since she observes their battles from wherever she’s being kept (most times the classic lil cell above the arena), and she also spends a good amount of time with both.

I do think, however, that she is the main matchmaker. Like she’d be the one giving both lil hints, without outright saying it, and she probably strikes a deal with Bowser, smt along the lines of:

However, after they do finally get their feelings all sorted out…

…They genuinely forgot she was there

Peach is the personification of this meme to me

[weirdronpa]

:O asks are open!1?1!1 !!

If u aren't too busy, could you maybe doodle kokichi in his splash art outfit? :3

remember to take your time and drink water!!

Hehe yess!! Asks are open! Here's your kichi!

I wanted to test out some poses and found a cool card one! I thought it would be fun for him! I hope you like it :)

[askblueandviolet]

MASTER POST

Asks Start 💙💜🩷

Previous 💙💜🩷

Next 💙💜

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey hey just a friendly PSA that you CAN and are ENCOURAGED to use up all five of your candy heart prompts if desired! I love all the various pairings and scenarios y'all send in, so when I see someone start off their prompt with "Is it okay if I send in another?" or "Can I be greedy?" I wanna grab you by the shoulders, lean in reeeealll close and go:

So yeah! :D In the words of our Lord and savior Gojo Satoru- "Be greedy." <3

That is all- Happy Tuesday everyone!

[vulpinesaint]

I really like your writing style. Do you have any literature you can share that you use as inspo?

going to start by disclaiming that from a specifically stylistic approach, i don't know if i have any writers that are distinctly similar. i do have writers that i find inspiring, though! if none of these are helpful for style, i hope they can inspire you in the same way that they make me aspire to achieve fantastic things with my writing :) i am always a poet first and foremost, whether it's poetry or prose (which is often just poetry hiding in a longer form), so most of my recommendations are poems; i have a few books at the end, though, just in case. everything that i link here should be free to access!

i am like 90% sure that anyone seeing this will already know that i keep all my poetry over at @trickstersaint, but just in case you're coming direct from a quiz, that's the place to read more of my writing! now. onto my list of a bunch of other trans poets with tumblr platforms 🖤

keaton st. james (@boykeats), i think, was the first modern poet that i really found and loved. stumbling across some of his dictionary poems as a younger poet was so revolutionary to me, and reading his poetry changed the way that i thought about and approached poetry as a whole. inspiration in the way of seeing the things that someone can do with poetry. opening up all the limits. this is what every good poem will do for you a little bit, i think, but keaton st. james is always my first recommendation for a modern poet. highly recommend his collections growth and light (i personally really love light. guy who is normal about religion voice) and rural boys watch the apocalypse is to me what that one richard siken poem about being in a car with a beautiful boy is to everyone else haha

other poets whose work i really enjoy and admire include silas denver melvin (@sweatermuppet) and dante émile (@orpheuslament)! recommending the poems an impractical marvel and dioscuri from them, respectively. sweatermuppet also has a full collection called grit, and orpheuslament has one called misplaced organs and various saints (this particular one isn't free but linking it here!) :)

my favorite poem since high school has been gravity by maura o'connor. life-changing. that poem is just like me for real.

for more of a narrative style, if you've read + liked my piece aromanticism, i definitely recommend with those we love alive by porpentine! really gorgeous twine piece with a kind of mysticism to it that could definitely tie back into the kind of stuff you'd see in my little quizzes too :)

if you're looking for actual literature-as-in-books, i can point you towards our wives under the sea by julia armfield and white is for witching by helen oyeyemi. both are novels that i've enjoyed for their kind of eclectic and poetic writing recently! i will also take any chance to recommend my favorite book, which is the hours by michael cunningham; regardless of similarity or inspiration, i find the writing of this book gorgeous and heartbreaking and i think it scrapes at the human condition in a way that draws blood. gently. if you know what i mean.

i hope this was helpful! i constantly feel as if i don't read enough poetry so if anyone has any suggestions they want to give me. i am more than happy to hear them <3 happy reading everybody!

[kittyscabin]

shows up to give you the coffinchain challenge

Please be more careful when you cross the road You’re a perfect arrangement of rickety bones

Stray cats.

Peter had always likened the apprentices to a group of stray cats, in his mind.

At first it was out of distaste. They were a nuisance; a band of drifters slinking around the alleyways, catching their quarries unaware. The quick, sharp jab of a hypodermic needle might as well have been the efficient killing bite that a cat might deliver to the throat of its prey. They worked in the shadows, occupying all of those lonely abandoned buildings and reworking them for a new, twisted purpose. 

Then, begrudgingly, he’d found himself wrapped up in Mark Hoffman. Chasing him, hunting him, hellbent on bringing him to justice, then on killing him, then on understanding him, then…

Well, Peter didn’t know what he was doing now. 

All he knew was that sitting in his apartment, in varying states of composure, were three of Jigsaw’s disciples. 

Dr. Gordon sat on his couch, eyes trained down as his hands worked on bandaging a fresh wound on the arm of his younger accomplice. Stanheight sat quietly and allowed for the medical attention with little fight. Hoffman himself sat on the floor, back leaned against the couch close to the other two. 

Peter remained standing, trying not to buckle at the absurdity of his situation. In true stray-animal nature, he had made the mistake of allowing Hoffman into his home once, twice, thrice, and now he’d come back with friends. 

‘Don’t feed the strays’, indeed. 

Accept that he did know the other two, at this point. The polite Dr. Gordon was well-spoken and direct; Peter had found him infuriating in the beginning. He was a hard man to interrogate and an even harder man to intimidate, as level and unflinching as he was. Unlike Peter, he never seemed to let his anger get the best of him, and he seemed to know that. Dr. Gordon was a man who always seemed very aware of how much more control he had in the conversation. It was enviable. 

Then there was Adam Faulkner-Stanheight. Mouthful of a name. It was strange enough for Peter to wrap his head around the fact that the kid was alive, let alone working with Jigsaw. He was angry- had more rage in his scrawny little body than what felt possible. Stupid and impulsive, Peter had found him annoying. Just a petulant adolescent who had gotten himself into bigger trouble than he yet realized. 

They’ve come a long way since then. Both apprentices had grown on him, maybe because they reminded him of himself in their amalgamate qualities. The cold, callous bluntness of the doctor. The white-hot temper of the kid. The way he had never seen the former so gentle nor the latter so complacent until now, as they patched themselves together on his bloodied furniture. 

Peter had been reluctant to welcome them all inside. It was bad enough to shelter one serial killer, but now three? It reminded him that everything he’s been doing as of late is against what he once stood for. Fuck, it would solve a hell of a lot of his own problems if he didn't care. If he’d let them all rot, make them regret thinking that Peter would risk his own hide just because he's been friendly with them. Dr. Gordon and Stanheight had seemed to understand this too. Their expressions had been apprehensive, looking ready to flee like the animals they were. Peter wonders how long ago he would have given chase. 

Hoffman had spoken, then. 

“I didn’t-” His voice was shot and exhausted. “I didn’t know where else to go, Strahm.” 

And just like that, Peter took them in. Those words were all it took. Hoffman limped inside on a bad leg and described some sort of police-raid, premature. John Kramer and Amanda Young hadn’t even been there, so it had just been the trio, and they were forced to flee. Unable to go far on foot in their current state, Hoffman had brought his injured companions here. To Peter. 

Why did that make something strange stir within him? 

The three of them were soaked to the bone from the rain. Peter watched Hoffman sluggishly attempt to remain alert, but every so often his head would lull and come to rest against the soft thigh of Dr. Gordon. If the doctor noticed it, he didn't say a word as he continued to diligently work. He looked tired. Stanheight was putting on the best brave face he could manage, but Peter’s keen eyes caught his shoulders trembling, only eased when Gordon’s hand came to rest on one and rubbed gently. They all looked so tired. 

Unable to watch any longer, Peter finally broke the silence. 

“So why are you still doing this?” It took everything in him to not fidget idly as he spoke, brows furrowed at the three men. 

All eyes were on him quite suddenly, sharp as they regarded him. Three clever pairs of observant eyes that all screamed out ‘I know more than I’m letting on' to Peter. He held their gazes, muscled arms crossed over his chest. 

“You know what I’m talking about.” He scoffed, lip curling. “What’s the point of doing the old man's dirty work when he just lets things like this happen to you?” 

Silence.

Hoffman broke first. He laughed, eyes closing as he rested more fully against the couch. It was good-natured but ultimately dismissive. 

Dr. Gordon frowned at Peter, one brow quirked as if he had asked them something incredibly naive. Like he expected Peter to know already. 

Stanheight didn't react. Not outwardly, anyways. He only stared, something new and strange glittering in his eyes that Peter couldn't place.

“What,” Peter grit his teeth, an edge to his voice. Less of a question and more of a prompt. 

“Nothing, nothing. Apologies, Mr. Strahm.” Gordon sighed, turning his attention back to his handiwork. He appeared to nearly be done with the worst of Stanheight’s injuries now. “It’s just… not that simple.”

“Not exactly the kinda job you can put your two weeks in for.” Hoffman corroborated, a smirk tugging at his full lips. 

Peter felt his face burn hot, and he huffed in frustration. “You fucking- Don’t play dumb. Don’t act like it’s a stupid question. I’ll throw you back out onto the fucking curb.” He jabbed a finger at Hoffman in particular, who for his part did indeed shut his mouth. “You listening? Good. What I’m saying is that John Kramer is one demented old man. What is actually stopping you?” 

This time, the quiet was punctuated by Hoffman and Gordon exchanging an uncomfortable glance. After a moment, Hoffman shrugged and ran one hand through his damp, messy hair. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of, uh, checks ‘n balances.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow skeptically. Hoffman continued. 

“Information is power, etcetera. Kramer keeps basically everything on a need-to-know basis. Including, I dunno, who you’re workin’ with half the time. Hell,” He rolled his eyes, and lazily raised a hand behind his head to pat Gordon’s arm. The doctor made an annoyed noise in response, shifting away from him. “He only told me about these lovebirds when he needed help lookin’ after ‘em.” 

“I’m still mad about missing out on a trip to Mexico.” Stanheight quipped. His voice was softer than normal, but Peter supposed it was a good sign that he was speaking at all. He wasn’t used to the younger man being so quiet. 

Gordon straightened up a moment later, gently patting down the new bandages and brushing some of the hair from Stanheight’s face. “There you go.” He sighed. The warmth in his tone was so palpable that Peter had the distinct feeling it wasn’t meant for his ears. Despite being in his own apartment, he somehow felt he was intruding. “Get comfortable, alright?” 

Peter watched as Stanheight pulled himself to his feet, stopping short just a little ways away from him with an awkward shuffle. Gordon patted his thigh and spoke his next words like they took all of his energy to say. 

“Your turn.” He didn’t even bother to look at Hoffman. The detective grinned anyways, wasting no time in clamoring up into Gordon’s personal space and slinging his leg across the man’s lap. Gordon shook his head disdainfully, but carefully began rolling back Hoffman’s torn pant leg anyways. 

Peter guessed he wasn’t the only one that Hoffman lived to irritate.

“Christ, Mark.” Gordon sucked in a sharp breath, and Peter’s shoulders stiffened as he took a step forward to look. His stomach sank despite himself; from where he was standing Hoffman’s calf looked like a bloody mess. Peter’s a man who’s seen more gore in his line of work than anyone should hope to see in their lifetime, and yet here he is, staring in alarm. It was unlike him, and woefully he could only attribute his own uneasiness to the owner of the calf. 

As if he could read his mind, Hoffman looked up towards Peter. “Hey, it’s just-” He winced, hissing in pain as Gordon began to clean the wound. “It’s no big deal- no bullet inside. Just grazed me.” 

“You were shot?” Peter balked.

“Grazed,” Hoffman corrected. 

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in a quick-rising frustration. Hoffman was impossible. 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Gordon’s voice was little more than a growl as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You took an unnecessary risk. Do you think I enjoy patching you back together? Honestly, if I didn't know any better I’d assume you were trying to get your sorry self killed.” 

Dr. Gordon’s tone left the detective bristling. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” He scoffed. “Hell, I don’t bother you when you’re workin’ in the sickbay. Why don't you just- fuck!” 

Hoffman yelped at the unceremonious splash of disinfectant. Gordon gave him the sort of well-practiced fake smile that only a doctor could.

“My bad,” he murmured, unapologetic. 

Peter decided he’d seen enough. He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, telling himself that he was just stepping aside to get ice in case the doctor needed some. He knew it wasn't the truth, though; he scolded himself quietly as he leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his graying hair. 

The truth was that he couldn't keep standing there, staring at Hoffman’s leg injury. 

It’s ironic, because it feels like not too long ago that Peter would have done anything to put a bullet in Hoffman. Now the thought makes him feel… queasy. And a bit confused. 

Peter found himself comparing the apprentices to strays again.

He couldn’t get the image of roadkill splattered on the side of the highway out of his head. 

From what he knew of John Kramer and his cult, the apprentices were expendable parts. It doesn't even sound like they can trust each other half the time. One wrong move or fatal mistake would be all it took. Peter wasn't even sure how long it would take him to know something had happened. 

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps so quiet that he knew exactly who they belonged to before turning around. Stanheight stood at the entryway of his bare-bones kitchen, watching him. He’s probably spent the least amount of time alone with him. 

“What is it?” Peter’s frown deepened.

The kid didn't answer immediately, instead coming to lean against the wall beside him. He was quiet for a moment, and then shrugged. 

“Wanted to check on you, I guess.” He answered simply. 

“Check on me? In what way do I need checking on?” Raising a brow, Peter gestured towards the living room. “Look at you three, for fuck’s sake.” 

Stanheight held his hands up defensively. “Hey, hey, I just- I get it, alright?”

Peter didn't know what that meant. He stared down at the shorter man, scowl ever-present, silently prodding him to elaborate. Stanheight’s expression was… almost sympathetic, but his eyes had that same strange look from before: the one that Peter couldn't place. 

The kid was easy to underestimate, Peter knew it from his file and from his current involvement. He wasn't about to make that mistake with him. 

“Sucks, doesn't it?” Stanheight finally said. He was muttering now, glancing once over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone. “One thing to know what they're doing and another to see them come back with blood and bits of their skin hanging off.”

Peter felt his stomach turn. “No,” he lied. “If Hoffman’s gonna be reckless and get himself killed then so be it.” 

“No matter what you or anyone else thinks, I’m not stupid.” Stanheight laughed dryly. “You don't gotta lie to me, okay? I’m on team Peter here.” 

“Are we forgetting that you’re one of ‘them’ too?” Peter steeled his gaze, unamused. 

Stanheight grimaced. “I mean- kind of. Not really.”

“‘Not really?’ What’s that mean?” 

“I- like- like I’m with them but I’m not one of them. Old Johnny-boy has never and will never give a shit about me. Not exactly in the running to be his heir or whatever the others think will happen.” Stanheight huffed, rolling his eyes as he explained. “Pretty sure he wouldn't even notice if I went missing if it weren't for the pictures ‘n schedules I go and get for him.”

Peter is quiet for a moment. 

“Why stick around?” He asked softly, already knowing the answer. 

The kid just snorted in lieu of answering, and the two fell into silence once more for a couple of seconds. 

“Glad that Mark has you.” Stanheight suddenly murmured, thoughtful. 

“He does not ‘have me’.” 

“Maybe you can knock some sense into him.” 

Peter scoffed, looking elsewhere. “You’re frustrating, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Stanheight laughed, “I’m not kidding, though. It always freaks me out how Mark gets when he’s like…” 

Raising a brow, Peter waited for him to sort out his thoughts. 

“Like, when he gets hurt, right? He just- just runs off. Or he’ll go and get hammered on the other side of town and when we find him he’s a mess.” 

At that, Peter’s shoulders went rigid. He was aware of Mark’s habits, his unhealthy coping mechanism. He hadn't thought about who else might know, how deeply it might run. He hadn't thought about how often Mark must be alone. 

When he looked back at Stanheight, he realized the kid was staring at him intently. There was concern in his expression, but also something fierce. 

“John’s really messed him up. Worse than he was before all of this.” His voice was low, almost cautious. “All of them. Lawrence, Mark, Mandy, none of them deserve this. You know that, right?”

Peter’s mouth felt dry. “I…” 

Straightening up again, Stanheight stepped closer to Peter. Before he could see it coming, a smaller hand took his own and held it, inspecting it. “I think Mark needs you.” He said, “maybe all of us do. So you gotta take care of yourself too.” 

Something confused seemed to bloom in his chest then, an uncertain warmth that he could feel rise up to his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he couldn't decide on anything to say. 

“Just think about it, ‘kay?” Stanheight let go of his hand again and started to leave the kitchen, pausing for just a moment to look back at him. “Oh, one more thing.” 

“What is it?” Peter’s voice was hoarse. 

Stanheight gave him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. “Welcome to the family.” 

Then he was gone, Peter’s protest to that statement dying on his lips, and Peter was left to think on everything he said. 

Hoffman needing him. Hoffman hiding himself away in dark corners to nurse his wounds. Improperly set bones and too much bandage. 

Stray cats.

Peter’s family used to have cats. His sister’s cat had been an old, white, raggedy thing that she named Alfredo. When Alfredo passed away, he had hidden under the bed and refused to come out. Peter thinks he remembers reading somewhere that pets do that on purpose, so their humans don't have to see them die, but it's been years and his animal knowledge is limited. 

Peter wondered how hard it is to socialize a stray cat. To reintroduce it to domesticity. 

He stepped out of the kitchen, lingering at the entryway, and watched the apprentices from where he stood. Gordon seemed to have finished with Hoffman’s leg, speaking to him in a quieter tone than before. To his surprise, Hoffman looked like he was listening. Stanheight was on the couch with them now, leaning his head onto Gordon’s shoulder. 

Peter found that he wished he could freeze this moment with the three of them in it. The bubble of safety that was his living room felt far away from everything Jigsaw. Maybe they were always meant to be here, on soft furniture, and not crouching amongst rusted pipes and jagged metal. 

Tamed. Domesticated. 

He sighed through his nose and walked around the couch, three sets of clever eyes on him again as he caught their attention. Now that he was there, he could see that Dr. Gordon had just begun to wrap up Hoffman’s leg and he silently motioned to ask for the gauze, kneeling down between them.

Understanding the gesture, Gordon handed it over, smiling at Peter warmly enough to raise his body temperature by a degree. 

“Strahm-” Hoffman started, bewildered, but Peter simply began wrapping his leg neatly. 

“Shut up.” He grunted. “Let me help you, stupid.”

[just-a-little-unionoid]

In which Stone sort of has a daughter and Ivo and her are not getting along

so I've talked about this fic I started writing back when the first movie came out and since a few people seem interested I decided to post what I wrote back then to test the water

on the base concept this fic is supposed to be stobotnik but this first part doesn't even has Stone in it, as it is only the first encounter between Robotnik and the kid

it's also not supposed to be the first chapter and it's short but that's all I got the motivation to write back then and it's been 4 years so I'm just, I'm gonna post it now cuz that's long enough okay, we will see how it goes later 😭

for context this takes place after the first movie and will only be canon-compliant up to that point

also uh cw r slur??? idk I don't condone the characters' language but it's there

tagging @thebadevil @alexcole1326 and @nosebleedy99 'cause you commented on the other post

- Meanwhile a few months latter on the mushroom planet -

The Doctor was looking for a way on a tricky path, a collapsing old mushroom cap he needed to step on in order to reach a better point of view, when his appliances went insane: there was some dimensional shit going on. He heard a big crack, like thunderbolt, then the dimentional fluctuation faded away.

Maybe two hours latter he heard something again, but something small, something he hadn't heard in a long time. It was not the wind, not the mushrooms growing, not his own breath, not Agent Stone rolling away. It was something that moved by itself, something alive, something animal. It was footsteps.

He was prepared for anything, really, he was prepared for humans, talking blue hedgehogs, other feaking rainbow animals, dinosaurs that would try to eat him... He was ready, and ready to fight for his life if necessary! What he wasn't really expecting though was a child in some kind of safety suit shaped like a dress? With a lot of shiny technological device attached here and there. He didn't get to see their face a lot but based on its proportions and the way it was standing it was obviously a human child, or a weirdly humanoid shaped alien, because as far as Robotnik knew the probability of an alien species to evolve in the exact same way as human, if statistically possible, was very low, and the probability to encounter it even lower.

The child glanced at him for a second and didn't even look up from the touchscreen tablet in their hands when they addressed him:

"I am looking for a human man who was known on his home planet, Earth, as Dr. Ivo Robotnik. Would you appear to 1) know English and 2) have seen a human looking quite like you, in that the human male standard shape and size are similar to yours. He should have a pale skin and dark hairs, and apparently a 'glorious mustache'?"

For once he didn't really know what to say, it only took half a second for him to remember how to register English words but the kid was faster and after a jaded sigh they resumed: "Nǐ huì shuō pǔtōnghuà ma? Kya aap hindee bolate hain? ¿Hablas español? Hal tatahadath alearabiatu? Tumi ki bān-"

"YES I do speak English, and other language stoo, thank you very much. Who are you and what are you doing here anyway?"

"I am here to find the Dr. Ivo Robotnik, I have already said that. Are you retarded or something? If you are don't worry I can explain things again, more slowly, I am trained for that."

"I AM, Dr. Ivo Robotnik," he said, trying very hard not to break the child's neck. "I know you're looking for me, what I'm asking is why? Who are you and who sent you here? No. You know what in fact I don't care who you are. I just want to know who sent you. Which government or secret agency, that sort of thing."

The mildly disgusted and doubtful facial expression they made as they were double-checking his appearance was speaking volumes about their internal thoughts.

"I have no more time to dedicate to you. I'm a very busy person and searching for you already wasted far more of my precious time than you deserve. All you need to know is that a very important person want you and you will follow me now if you don't want me to make use of force."

And on that, the child turned their back to him and disappeared behind a mushroom.

Great. One of those child genius who thought they were above everyone else just because they worked for a random government. He should know, he was one of them. But that kid would learn soon enough what their real place was: down below.

He still followed them though, because they looked like they knew a way back and, well, even if he was smart enough to find a way by himself, thank you very much, the sooner he could beat that hedgehog the better it was. Also, he could just kill them after learning whatever device brought them here and no one would know.

–––

Soon they arrived to a more open area. The child seemingly took measurements, they walked around taking notes on their pad for a few minutes then stopped.

"Come here," they said while pointing the ground. "Don't move."

They took a device from their bag, some kind of tripod filled with wires and LEDs, and placed it on the ground. They stepped back and typed on their screen some more.

The tripod beeped and light beams came out of it, scaning the mushroom cap they where standing on. A dozen of flat devices escaped from the bag and and went to place themselves on strategic points marked by the beams.

The child then placed what looked like a power cell in the tripod. That blue glow emanating from it, could it be... But he had no time to think about it, lights amplificated by stimulated emission of radiation came out of the tripode and to the discs, reflecting into the others, and soon the whole place was illuminated. Reality torn open for the second time this day in a deafening din.

When he oppened his eyes again a ring, looking almost exactly like the one that brought him here, was now open on the ground before him. Almost, because it looked like it opened on a room specifically equipped for that purpose, and with the whole procedure to activate it, it could only mean it was a more primitive technology.

The Doctor looked up at the child, who was scrutinizing him for his reaction.

"I bet you didn't do that yourself, it looks just like this creature's gold rings portals," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah of course," responded the child with spite, "it's reverse engineering."

"Lame."

"Well at least I'm not stupidly stuck on a damn mushroom planet like an idiot. I favour efficiency upon ego, that's why I am here saving your ass and you are pathetically crawling over there covered in mushroom goo. Now, you will have to excuse me..."

They pressed some hiden button in their gloves and Robotnik felt something stinging his neck.

"...but I don't trust you."

The last thing he thought while falling to the ground and through the ring was: "But... That's my tech..."

[masque-of-plague]

If you feel like you need "permission" to do something in fandom, this post is for you!

Something I've noticed a lot of in this fandom is that people hesitate so much to do so many wonderful things they want to do because they feel like they need someone else's "permission" in order to do it.

Understandably, there was a HUGE history of people dog-piling, harassing, and bullying people for doing things that were not explicitly approved by either the creators or the fandom at large. I am so happy that the tumblr fandom in particular has moved away from that horrible time, but the effects it had on people still linger, even beyond things that "weren't allowed."

So if you need permission to do something you've been thinking of doing, I'm giving you permission. 💕

Do you have an idea for a fan event but you need someone to tell you that you can? I'm telling you right now that not only can you start that fan event, but you will do a great job AND people will love it.

Do you have an idea for a fanfiction but you're worried that people won't like it? I'm holding your face gently and promising you that there is an audience for everything and if absolutely nothing else, you deserve to make that fic.

Do you have a headcanon that directly conflicts with common headcanons in the fandom? I support you having that headcanon. YES, even if other people dislike or even hate that headcanon. YES, even if some people are upset about that headcanon. It's their job to avoid that headcanon then-- it's not your job not to have it.

You deserve a space to be heard, to make your creations, to hold you headcanons. Anything that brings you joy, amusement, euphoria, validation, healing, catharsis, anything that you find interesting or enjoyable, you deserve to engage with it.

I promise you are capable. I promise you are not doing anything wrong. I promise you are not hurting anything.

Whatever you thought about while reading this post? I am giving you permission to do it.

[thelaundrybitch]

Sorry dude my ask go through?

Hello good Anon!

If you are referring to the ask sent speaking for all Raph fans, yes. I received it.

I sometimes don't reply to things like that because I don't want to stir the shit pot any further.

I absolutely appreciate you sending the ask to clarify, however.

Since we're here, I will take this opportunity to make something very clear to everyone that reads this.

All us creators stick together, and we see which fans have negative attitudes, and tend to keep away from them.

We will also all block someone that harasses, bullies, or speaks less than respectfully to our co-creators.

AND

Since this has been something that has been happening recently...

We also know when one person (even if they are on anonymous) is dropping the same exact ask in everyone's ask box, which usually ends in it not being answered. Just FYI.

Please remember there is an actual real living person on the other side of the screen that you send your asks to. And they have real human feelings.

Hurting one of the creators will end poorly for those who decide to do so, especially if they enjoy partaking in fandom content.

That's not a warning, nor is it a threat.

It's a promise.

[chaos-potat]

All the drawing requests from today in one post

I'd still be willing to do this tomorrow or something, I should find another sheet too

Of course badly drawn blood warning for the alternative 2003 Leo

[herbgerblin]

this is going to sound a little unhinged but I love the way you render your art, the vibes always remind me of like, those clear and glittery pencil grips

As someone who used to love those sparkly grips and would have them on all my pencils this makes me very happy to read :3!! Thank you!!

[alrightbuckaroo]

Happy Friday, my loves! It's been a minute since I've seen this tag game go around and it's been even longer since I participated. Seems like the perfect time to change that. As always, please feel free to use this as a jumping off point for all the wonderful words that have been written. Don't stop with just this list!

Take my hand, take my whole life, too by @heartstringsduet

With each wrinkle, each scar, each crease, each spot, their rings, their hands tell the stories of their lives together.

throw me on a hurricane (i'll ride it to the coast) by ArsenicInYourPudding

This is, in fact, TK's first rodeo. Carlos is lucky that he's there anyway.

Protect me by Karaxuno

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” TK asks, struggling for a second to find the words for what he wants to say, “Space to grow?” “With you, I’d take a closet.” Carlos teases, his fingers dancing away from his shirt sleeve and instead tracing up and down the line of TK’s jaw. “Been there, done that, let’s find a house.” TK grins, unable to stop the little laugh that bubbles in his chest. Or, post-S2-fire TK and Carlos look for a place together, and house shopping has its ups and downs.

Among my stillness was a pounding heart by @tailoredshirt

TK took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk about what happened last fall. With the loft.” Carlos’s brain was skipping around from one feeling to the next like a pinball. “With…when we broke up?” “Yeah.” “You…want to talk about the breakup,” Carlos said slowly. “While I’m proposing to you.” TK squeezed his hands. “Yes. Please.”

I hold onto the night you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me by @irispurpurea

"I have lost everything!" TK roars, and it feels so good. "Isn't that the whole point?" Or: It's the beginning of Season 4, and TK and Carlos are broken up again.

The Light of Our Life by @carlos-in-glasses

After an awkward conversation, Carlos buys TK a bearded dragon and fears it may be a parting gift (Coda for 4x12)

See Me (All of Me) by @bonheur-cafe

A fractured heart and a plea to be seen. Otherwise known as: the apology from his mom that Carlos never got, but deserves.

Make Me Laugh 'till I Die, I Stand Beside You With Pride by @lemonlyman-dotcom

A coda to the ending scene of 4x06. TK has a moment of insecurity; Carlos reassures him and, in the quiet safety of their bed, confesses an insecurity of his own.

tried and true blue by @reyesstrand

"She knows," Owen says, his eyes almost too sincere for TK to handle. He clamps his molars together and just stares at his father, because if he lets himself think too hard about all the ways his mom is still here, somehow, he'll probably burst into tears. Owen gives him a sad smile. "She does, TK. She used to talk about when you'd get married all the time." There's a pause, and TK curls his fingers tighter around his mug, letting everything simmer between them. "When I got married," TK quietly repeats. "Not if?"

and because there's a new chapter on the way, I'm going to recommend my shameless collection of smut, something to give each other (things are about to get so casual)

No pressure tagging everyone above and:

@captain-gillian, @carlos-tk, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @basilsunrise, @butchreyes

@nancys-braids, @never-blooms, @mikibwrites, @lightningboltreader, @herefortarlos

@honeybee-taskforce, @guardian-angle22, @freneticfloetry, @fifthrideroftheapocalypse, @strandnreyes

@sheholdsthemoon, @actual-sleeping-beauty, @whatsintheboxmh, @welcomehometk, @reasonandfaithinharmony

@welcometololaland, @eclectic-sassycoweyes, @rmd-writes, @thisbuildinghasfeelings, @theghostofashton

@orchidscript, @paperstorm, @emsprovisions, and of course here's an open tag for anyone who just wants to share!!

[ask-big-eyed3]

HEYA!

SOOO TODAY IM ASKING SMTH!!

Do you care about the SMG4 crew? (With pure honesty)

And I hope you still feel okay since Terrance's death...!

With pure honesty, huh? Well...

I...

I really miss them, I'll be real

[chadflorian]

Hey if you actually look close at the movie Chloe and Chad have the same morals in the beginning it's just that their is a difference in who they end up becoming down the line. Chloe basically learns what nuances are and how everything isnt black and white. And if you pay attention to Chad's friend group and who he looks up to * cough cough* Audrey you find that he dosent have the same influences. Those two are kinda like mirrors of eachother in who they could have become both kids are nothing like their parents to a T it's just how they were raised plus environmental factors

i think now is a good time to reveal i actually still haven't watched rise of red yet?... whoops lolz but my upcoming weekend is free so like i might as well

i do subscribe to the idea that his friend group probably made him ignorant asf like how he was in d2/d3 but it also doesn't really explain his d1 personality besides the hating VKs thing because in d1 he's cunning and manipulative and usuallyyyyy imo manipulative people aren't swayed to be like that, it's either you got it or you don't (when i write him or analyze him usually i use the d2/3 personality anyways so, like, whatever)

also lemme just say i am a pro-audrey blog so when i talk about her behavior and attitude that all goes back to queen leah idc audrey ain't know better, her and chad was the blind leading the blind

[cozystars]

Made More!

Transcript under the CuUuuUt

Princess Daisy - Joyful gem of the Desert, Daisy took the position of Sarasaland's ruler due to her parents dedicating their time to preserving their culture found in other worlds. She does her best to keep things together. +Exuberant =Curious -Presumptuous Lover of all things sporty, Diplomatic Besties w/ Peach

---- An odd pair that found solace, family even, in their shared goal of supporting eccentric lifestyles through any means necessary. -

Waluigi-(real name unknown) +Virutuoso =Dedicated -Self-hating An infamous micro-celebrity known for his love of sports, soaps, and taking the spotlight. - Wario-(WHO THE @*%! IS MARIO?) +Efficent =Robust -Self-Centered Willing to do the odd, tough jobs no one in their right mind would take to keep his precious ride in check.