#everything is copacetic

[itsmissing]

heya!

i'm not gonna make a habit of bringing this up, but if you guys enjoy my wizard designs (or, more recently, the funny emojis) and want to support me with a tip, i do have a ko-fi page!

money isn't tight at the moment, but since i may be moving out soon, and with my primary source of clients (twitter) being in sustained freefall due to the actions of the fetid roach in charge of it, i figured it couldn't hurt to jingle the digital glass jar at passers-by. any amount helps 🫡

[grimesapologist]

I'm so blissed and blessed tonight but I'm trying not to think about it too much so as to not jinx it but I'm failing because I'm so happyyyyyy

[one-little-nerd-stayed-home]

In other news I cannot stress enough how fucking feral it makes me that when he first introduces Budge Johnny says "Somewhere there's a photo of him as a younger man..." and goes on to describe that man and then how budge looks now and then the official character poster for Budge has that photo shattered in the background.

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

You guys discourse about eye color on here to a degree that I think is really disproportionate to how much anyone actually even notices what color anyone else's eyes are

[eatingasheswithlister]

Oh my god this is the first AND ONLY time I hear someone say copacetic who isn't Mdawg Walters

[llitchilitchi]

How do MR!dnf handle their relationship with the way things are now? They probably couldn't consider themselves lovers, not with so much going on and so much happened, I feel like there would be moments where they think about it, like a kiss, but don't want to overstep anything

their relationship is strange, to say the least. the last time they spoke was during the dethronement and it feels like a different lifetime, different people entirely. there is the obvious strain and hurt that they dance around and ignore, especially while Dream is recovering, and a strange sense of longing that they only allow themselves to fully embrace when they are all alone late at night. (and Dream wonders sometimes if trying to get closer, romantically, would spell doom to them both, or if George would take it only as Dream taking advantage to guarantee his own safety. either way, this is the one thing he does not want to turn into an attachment or a bargain.)

the possibility of their relationship turning into something romantic shows up only later, down the line, when George and Sapnap learn about the book, the Plan, about Punz and Ranboo and everything else, once Dream knows he can trust them again.

that being said, from the author's perspective, I never intended to make this a dnf au, or at least did not want the romance to be the centerpoint. I want things to be up for interpretation in the weird 'dnf being far too intimate and comfortable with each other and looking at each other with reverence and adoration' way that they have going on. though, looking back, a lot of the AU does revolve around the two of them, so I guess my subconscious took charge there :D

[violent138]

Bruce, phoning the kids because a sixth sense is telling him something's up: "That's great Jason, put Tim on the phone."

Damian, muting it so he can clear his throat and pretend to be Tim: "Hello? Oh hey, B, everything... copacetic?"

Bruce, unconvinced: "Yeah, just wanted to check in, see what's going on--"

*alarm goes off in the cave, Oracle sending an urgent message*

Damian: *frantically mutes it*

Bruce: "What was that? It sounded like--"

Damian, sotto Tim Drake: "Dick's making popcorn, movie night."

Bruce: "Why is Dick there?"

Damian, muting it so he can seethe freely, reverting back to Tim: "He missed Alfred. Listen Fa-- Batman, I need to go weigh in here before Todd picks something stupid. He and Brown, you know, worst taste in films."

Bruce: "Yeah, it's-- did you say Brown?"

Damian, through gritted teeth: "Anyways, do you want to speak to Cass?"

Bruce: "Yeah sure."

*footage on screen shows Cass getting thrown off a roof*

Damian, sticking on his mask: "Oh no, she's so busy, bye."

Bruce, looking at his phone: "They're fucking up to something."

[onetiny-inkdropuniverse]

I like my characters messy. Messed up, even. Unhinged. Morally ambiguous. I like Piper McLean because she steals a BMW. Because she's a pick-me girl at first who realizes that she is, in fact, exactly the person she says she's not. I like her because of her messy, weird, imperfect relationship with Jason Grace. I like her because she moves on so quickly that she feels a little guilty, but not guilty enough to get another girl's tongue out of her mouth. I like her because she does not know who she is, or what she's doing. I like her because she has everything and loses everything but manages to still have what matters most. I like her because she does shit she shouldn't do like charmspeak her friends. I like her because she's MESSY. Because so much of fandom HATES her. Because she's weird as hell and she doesn't know what to label herself, so she's like, FUCK that I'm kissing girls! I love her for it, actually. I like Leo Valdez for much the same reasons. I don't like him because he's funny-- I like him because his sense of humor is shitty asf. It has two modes: stupid and super dark. It communicates something very clear: This "weirdo scrawny boy" is actually wicked smart and hella capable, but he only shows it when he needs to. I like him because his past is so fucking traumatic and yet he's the one smiling the most often. That is UNHINGED. That is CREEPY-ASS behavior. My boy is chatting with his new best friend, a TABLE, while he sleep-deprives and starves himself, only to come back out of self-imposed isolation saying shit like copacetic. I mean, who does that? I like Jason Grace because he's the fucking blankest slate of all time, so much so that fandom HATED him. He was their boring white boy. And then, boom, Riordan kills him off, and suddenly Jason Grace is BACK in fandom. But he's been the same guy the whole time. Awkwardly going with any situation you put him in. Having a freaking IDENTITY CRISIS over the course of five books while readers accuse him of having no identity. He's aloof and he's cold and he's down to earth and he's friendly and warm. He's a walking contradiction. He's a blank slate and yet he's the messiest slate of all time. People HATE the guy because his personality "isn't strong" but meanwhile he doesn't even fucking KNOW what his personality is. He's a MESS! I love the lost trio. Because that's what they are. Freaking LOST. They're teenagers, and they suck sometimes, and they're mean to each other, and they're not great friends, and then they're fucking fantastic all over again. And above all, they're MESSY. In the immortal words of Leo Valdez, "I love you guys"

[kingkatsuki]

— the ties that bind

I just needed to get this out of my system, because after catching up to Wind Breaker I got this idea in my head and I just hope it makes some form of sense outside the horny.

Endo would offer anything to Takiishi to make him happy, including you.

Pairing: Endo Yamato x Takiishi Chika x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, angst, toxic!unestablished relationship, power dynamics if you really squint, threesome, one!sided feelings (on yours and Endo’s part), dirty talk, m!masturbation, fingering, double penetration (cock and fingers in your pussy at the same time), creampie, cum eating, cunnilingus.

Word Count: 2.4k.

You’re not even sure if Takiishi truly loves you, or whether you’re just another pawn in his sadistic game of chess. Manipulating you would be easy anyway when you’re so desperately in love with him.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” His thumb tugs at your bottom lip as you instinctively tilt your head, pathetically offering yourself to him as always. The option is his to take, his decision as always, “Anything.”

“Yes, Chika.” And perhaps he likes you because you always tell him exactly what he wants to hear.

Takiishi smiles at that and indulges you. Taking pity on you this time as he leans down to capture your lips in a fiery kiss, cradling your jaw in one of his palms as you feel yourself leaning into his touch. You like it when he’s like this— it allows you to trick yourself into thinking everything is copacetic.

“Is that good?” His lips curl into a smug grin against your lips. Already certain of the answer, though he’d never want you to lie to him.

And it is good, the lustrous euphoria that clouds your thoughts and leaves you in a delirious stupor. His balls are snug against the swell of your ass as he works to carve your cunt into the shape of his cock. Grinding against you as the coarse hairs at his base tickle your clit and have you clenching around him, sharp nails digging into the base of his skull as you pathetically writhe beneath him.

“Oh, fuck,” You sound out, chasing his lips. His mouth swallows the sound as he repeats the motion, delighting in the way your walls clench around his cock, “Chika.”

Takiishi pulls back to watch you now, drunk enough on the pleasure that crystalline tears clump in your thick lashes and your lips pout in a needy whine. The sight is completely debauched as he reaches out to palm one of your bouncing breasts, catching your nipple between his index and middle finger as he squeezes softly.

“You really are perfect, huh?” He continues, shaping his hand against the curve of your chest, grunting when you clench around him in response.

He’s like a drug, intoxicating and so damn addictive that you can’t stop yourself from coming back for another hit. His hands scorch your skin as he palms your breast, rutting into your warm cunt as his cock curves towards that sweet spot inside you.

He’s nothing like the man that everyone else gets to see, the strongest man in Furin's history. When you have him like this it’s easy to convince yourself that he’s something more— this soft side reserved just for you as he holds you in his arms and tells you he loves you. Except, he’d never say those words to you, would he?

“Told ya she was,” Endo smirks from behind you, and you’re brought back to your sickening reality.

It’s his fault you’re like this, after all.

“I thought she’d make you happy.” He scoffs, and you’re reminded of your stark reality, the real reason why you’re here, “I picked a good one, huh?”

Takiishi doesn’t answer, but instead gives another rough thrust into your tight cunt. Enough to have you crying out as Endo shamelessly flops down on his side onto the bed beside you, resting his head on his palm as he reaches out to pinch one of your taut nipples. His cock bounced from the movement as you noticed the globs of pre beading at the engorged tip, an angry pink that flushed down the length of him. Swollen balls, bulky and ready to give everything they’ve got to give to the man in front of you. Endo wrapped a calloused palm around his cock as he gave himself a lazy pump, smearing the opaline moisture along his length for lube as he pressed his thumb against his slit.

“She was a good choice.” Takiishi grunts, readjusting himself as he curls his hands beneath your thighs. Changing the angle as your walls clench around him, admiring the scars and welts that pucker against his chest.

And Endo delights in the praise, as though it was directed towards him. When the saccharine look in Takiishi’s eyes told otherwise— his softened irises almost convinced you that he cared.

It’s always been difficult to ascertain when he’s being deceptive but just as he enjoys playing this twisted game, you’ve started to play too. Like a pawn whose only task is to protect the king, you’ve set your pieces up to guard your heart. Terrified to admit to him how you feel, although you’re certain he can tell. He’s always been perceptive, after all.

“I’d do anything for you,” Endo continues stroking his cock, squeezing his palm around the girth of it, “You know that.”

And once again, that’s your stark reminder that none of this is real.

Takiishi had told you he cared for you before. One night below the stars when you were alone together, sharing a split bottle of whisky as you felt the breeze whip at your ankles. He’d only allow himself to be vulnerable when there was no one else around, no distractions. Or as vulnerable as Takiishi was capable of being, you supposed. But you wondered if he’d say the same to Endo when he was in the same position, all doe eyes and soft smiles as he cups your beating heart in a calloused fist and squeezes tight.

Endo always said Takiishi was a blazing inferno that consumes everything it touches indiscriminately, without a care for others. And that was probably why you’d both be going down in the blaze. Fooling yourself into believing that you would be able to avoid the fire when you should’ve known it was destroying you from the inside.

“You like that?” Takiishi murmured, “You like me fucking you into the shape of my cock?”

But maybe you were just as sadistic as them, indulging in the pain laced with such frivolity. Letting them use you however they see fit, under the guise that they actually care about you— that they love you.

“Yes,” You whined, trying feebly to match his pace. Wanting to prove to him that you were the right choice, that you’d do anything to make him happy. It disgusted you how much you’d bend your back to appease him, how much you were willing to give of yourself to receive next to nothing in return. You could only blame the pleasure clouding your mind for so much before the lusty fog cleared to a haze of realisation.

“Good girl.” He liked that answer, he always did.

Takiishi rewarded you with a particularly harsh thrust, as he pulled his hips back enough to drag his drenched cock from your silky depths before plunging it back in with a sudden rut.

“Her pussy sounds so fuckin’ wet.” Endo smirked at the lewd sound that filled the room, “She’s so noisy.”

“You always take me so well,” Takiishi murmured so softly, you’d mistake it for kindness. Smoothing a palm against your pelvis as he felt for his cock inside you.

“Yeah, and she likes it,” Endo scoffed, “Just look at her— you like being stuffed full, huh?”

He reached down to press two tattooed fingers against your puffy clit as you gasped in pleasure. Arching your back into his touch as Takiishi continued his rough pace, fucking you higher up the mattress from the ferocity of his thrusts as his red hair cascaded around him.

“Bet Chika’s stretching you out,” His fingers continued lower, spreading into a V on either side of Takiishi’s cock as they squeezed softly. The heel of his palm was now flat against your clit as you watched Takiishi’s eyes roll in pleasure, manicured nails digging into the plush of your thighs as he sought his high.

“This is the best gift yet, right Chika?” Endo grins, “Isn’t she the best gift?”

“Yeah,” Takiishi smiles down at you, and it has you falling even deeper, “You did good.”

Endo practically keened at the praise, a garbled sound akin to a whine slipped past his lips as slender hips bucked into his closed fist. And while Endo would say Takiishi is the king in this twisted game, you know him better. He’s like a rook, moving straight across the board to strike down every dispensable shield you’ve placed to guard your heart as he gets in through a hole in your defences.

“Fu-uck,” Endo groaned when he began to press two of his tattooed fingers into your warm, wet cunt above Takiishi’s cock. Feeling the stretch between your thighs as you writhed against tousled sheets, immediately clamping down in defence.

“Relax.” Takiishi smoothed a palm along your sternum, feeling the harsh doldrums of your heart as though on command you released the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

Feeling Endo wiggle his fingers inside you with glee as the pair moved in tandem, calloused pads hitting the spongy spot inside you with each flick of his wrist as the blunt head of Takiishi’s cock carved your insides into the shape of him.

“You’re so big, Chika,” Endo continued, a groan vibrating low in his throat as he felt you tighten around him, “Are you gonna cum?”

The question wasn’t directed at you but the coil inside you wound tight, leaving you teetering on the edge of your bliss as you waited for something to have you free-falling.

“Shit,” Takiishi rasped, practically curled over you as his hips jerked, his pace faltering as he felt the pleasure building between his thighs.

“Fuck,” Endo growled, a toothy smile spread against his cheeks as he pressed harder against your g-spot, “Fuckin’ cum for me.”

It wasn’t directed at you, but the command had you convulsing, dipping into a high crescendo as you met your climax. Your walls fluttered around the two men as pleasure consumed you. White spots blurred your vision as you barely made out the feeling of Endo ripping his fingers from your warm cunt and moving his hand, still soaked with your slick, to Takiishi’s heavy balls. Moulding them beneath his fingers as he worked to push him over the edge, sitting up on the mattress to get a front-row seat at the debauched view in front of him.

Takiishi was wordless as he came, a guttural grunt forced from deep in his chest the only sound as he fisted the sheets on either side of you. Endo’s hand still milking his balls as he pumped white, hot spurts of cum inside your spent cunt, coating your velvety walls with his release.

“You’re so pretty when you cum.” Endo cooed, watching as Takiishi pulled out of your pulsing hole. His cock glistened with your essence as you left creamy pearlescent rings around the base of his cock.

Takiishi pulled back to assess the gape he’d left between your thighs, watching your hole pulse as it pushed some of his spend out of your abused hole. His cock bobbed in the air as he readjusted himself, reaching out to swipe two fingers against your messy folds to push his load back inside you. Offering the digits to you after as he smoothed them against your glossy lips like a man offering someone a chance to sample the sweetest ambrosia. And you took it gratefully, rolling your tongue around his fingers as you tasted the bitterness of him.

“Clean her up,” Takiishi commanded, pulling his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth as he wiped them against the side of your cheek, “Then you can have my cock.”

Endo gave his cock a final tug before moving his sticky hands to your thighs. Slipping his palms beneath the curve of your knees to manhandle you roughly, as though you were nothing more than a doll. And in reality, that’s exactly what you were— a toy for them to play with when they both got bored.

Your aching thigh held upright as he pushed your ass in the air, your back off the mattress as he pressed the flat of his tongue along your creamy slit. Collecting the cum that your fluttering walls had pushed out of you that drooled down towards your asshole as he cleaned you up.

“You taste so good,” He groaned, greedily pushing his tongue inside your stretched hole to slurp at the mixture Takiishi left behind as his nose nudged your overstimulated clit.

It wasn’t for your pleasure, it rarely was when it came to Endo and yet he still managed to have your eyes rolling back in a matter of minutes as you trashed against the dirty sheets.

Takiishi sat back to watch like he always did, his cock still half-hard and glistening with your slick. Just another part of the vicious cycle that you found yourself in, match after match in a sick game where he always came out as the victor.

Your hand flew out to card through Endo’s messy hair when you felt his teeth nip at your folds in his urgency, crying out as he shot you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, baby,” He cooed, his voice laced with condescension, “I thought you could handle it.”

This wasn’t for your pleasure, it was for his. And yet he still had the coil inside you snapping as he forced you into another gratifying climax. Crying out as your entire body shook from the intensity, your nails stretching against his scalp as he pulled away with glee. Your juices drooled down his chin as he looked to Takiishi, not to you.

“It’s my turn now, yeah?” Endo licked his lips with glee, shamelessly ogling Takiishi’s cock, “You can fuck me, if you want—”

And once again you were reminded of the real reason why you were here, why Endo had picked you in the first place. Another twisted idea is to try and give Takiishi the best time of his life. To prove his love and devotion to a man who would never give him the same kind of reward.

The cloudy lust-filled haze that shrouded your mind now transforms into an almighty storm that has thunder and lightning crashing down around you. Ruining the perfect fantasy you’d concocted and convinced yourself was real.

For now, you were just another player in their sick and twisted game. Because they both want everything from you, but they give you nothing in return.

[sin-tax-errotic]

Supernatural Fics

LEGENDS: 💦- SMUT | 💗- FLUFF | 💔- ANGST

DEAN WINCHESTER

💦AN ANGEL by sleepyangelkam (Dom!Dean)

💦Still Love Me? by dean-winchester-is-a-warrior (MoC!Dean)

💦Until My Dying Breath by winchester-fantasies (MoC!Dean)

💗Trust Me by carryonmywaywardcaptain (MoC!Dean)

💦Fiend by fatecantstopme (Demon!Dean)

💦Sexy F*cking Nerd by whimsyfinny

💦Please, don't...Daddy by c1eepypas1a (Dark!Dean)

💗Welcome Home by deanstead (Dad!Dean)

💗💔 Not a Lot Just Forever by take-it-on-the-run (Dad!Dean)

💦P*ssyDrunk!Dean drabble by bunpuppe

💦Sweet Affairs by mxilkyways

💦If I Catch You by thirdsaltyhunter (Ghostface!Dean)

💦Caught in the Act drabble by figthoughts

💦 Playing with Fate by wayward-dreamer (Demon!Dean)

💗Too Many Beds by mind-empty-just-fictional-people

💔Empty Eyes by glorystark

💗 Under Control by kaleldobrev (MoC!Dean)

SAM WINCHESTER

💦Size Difference Sam Winchester {SFW & NSFW} by sammyslovergirl

💦I'm Better by nikkisheep (Soulless!Sam)

💦P*ssyDrunk!Sam drabble by samsno1

💦₊˚⊹♡ mean by ohsc

💦 Hair Pulling by ryrywrites

💦Go Easy by negans-lucille-tblr (Dom!Sam)

💦 Pollen by nuemanfilms (Dom!Sam)

💦I Got You by sammyluvr (Dom!Sam)

💦Worship You by sammyluvr (Priest!Sam)

💦 Body Worship drabble by rubyvhs

💦 Plaything by sleepyangelkami (Dom!Sam)

💦 Break by nuemanfilms (SoftDom!Sam)

CASTIEL

💦 Obedience at its Finest by bunnysbrainrot (Casifer)

💦Takeout Tuesday by gilverrwrites (Human!Castiel)

💦Your Whore by kdfrqqg (Dom!Castiel)

💦Sin, Virtue, and Vice by the-writer-ofthe-fandoms

💦Dream a Little Dream of Me by everything-is-by-design

💦Imagine: Castiel’s serious-minded idea of post-sex pillow talk by webcricket 

💦Imagine: Castiel really really likes your inspired idea of compromise when it comes to solving a long standing bone of contention persisting in your otherwise copacetic coupledom by webcricket

💦 Last Night on Earth by hollybell51

💦Experience by gallavichsreddie1128

💦Don't Bet On It by hollybell51 (Virgin!Castiel)

💦Sweet Angel by beanthesprout (Sub!Castiel)

💦 Blessing by gabriels-blade (Soft Dom!Castiel)

THE BOYS

💦 Wet Dreams (SPN pref!)🩷 by via-l0ve

💦Private. (SPN Pref!) ❤️ by via-l0ve

💦💗.⋆｡When They Realised That They Loved You｡⋆. by hannibals-favourite-meal

💦Unholy Night 1 | Unholy Night 2 | Unholy Night 3 by holylulusworld (Dean/Sam/Castiel)

💦Hellnight by holylulusworld (Demon!Dean, Casifer, Soulless!Sam, Demon!John)

💦Teach Me by jessybarnes (Dean, Castiel)

💦Finally Giving In by grilledcheeseandtomato (Dean, Sam)

💦Guessing Game by bunnysbrainrot (Dean, Sam)

💦Why Not Two by nuemanfilms (Dean, Sam)

💦Sharing Father and Son by naughtyneganjdm (John, Dean)

💦Birthday Pie by negans-lucille-tblr (Dean, Sam)

[isaysexualthingsaboutrobinavitch]

As Above, So Below I Chapter 1- I'll Tell You Everything is Copacetic

Synopsis: Two attendings, one new psychologist working both the day and night shifts on a rotation. You could have sworn you heard both of them call “dibs,” and you’re more than willing to entertain the both of them.  Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Fem!Reader and Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader Word count: 2.1K Warnings: Talk of mental illness and other psychological things, violence, dark humor, and some smut along the way  :) A/N: I couldn’t decide between Robby and Abbot, so I present you with BOTH. Tag list is open, Part 2 coming soon

As Above, So Below. "Quod est superius est sicut quod inferius, et quod inferius est sicut quod est superius." -- That which is above is like to that which is below, and that which is below is like to that which is above.

It based on the notion of Hermeticism; the idea that God was a magician.

The religious and philosophical idea that the universe is broken into the Macrocosm (the universe), and the microcosm (the individual).

That which is above, corresponds to that which is below in order to accomplish the miracle of one thing. In simplest terms—whatever happens in the spiritual world, also happens in the physical world, and vice versa.

Your spiritual and physical world existed on two equal and opposite sides; day shift and night shift.

Two very different shifts.

Two very different paces, senses of humor, and inside jokes 

Two very different attending doctors.

And you were vying for the attention of both of them. 

Part 1: I'll Tell You Everything is Copacetic

The promotion from the career you had grown comfortable, came unexpectedly and as the result of a physical altercation with a patient. You, the staff psychologist at a maximum-security prison, had come face-to-face with a makeshift weapon during a routine therapy session. The irony, which had not been lost on you, had been that your patient had been so worried that he’d never get out of prison, he had no insight into the fact that stabbing someone in the back with a sharpened toothbrush, would surely end in those exact consequences. He was one of your favorite patients. It was a real “Et tu, Brute” type of moment, both figuratively and literally. 

The thing they don't tell you about being stabbed in prison, is that the threat needs to be cleared before life-saving measures can be started. There you were, on the ground, bleeding from a stab wound that barely missed your spinal cord, waiting for EMS to arrive, while you almost choked to death on the pepper spray canister that had been deployed by security as they watched on in horror. The other thing they don't tell you about being stabbed in prison, is how motherfucking painful it is and how that trauma will likely linger long after the pain. 

Leaving that job wasn’t a suggestion as much as it was a directive. You were medically cleared after 12 weeks, but the optics of the entire situation made it difficult for management to move forward without shouldering most of blame. The split was mostly amicable; they wouldn’t have to feel any guilt about a weapon making its way all the way to your therapy session, and you’d never have to wear khaki cargo pants and a "stab vest" again that clearly was just for show. 

You applied for the job of Chief Psychologist at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center as soon as it popped up on your archaic Linkedin profile, and got the job the following week. The long-waited return to your hometown and all of the skeleton's in your childhood home's closet. The emergency room didn’t exactly sound like a soothing retreat for the recently stabbed, but it did promise the perfect distraction – 12-hour shifts, vacillating between days and nights, and no time to think about all of the things that had happened up to this. And, as a cherry on top, you’d be the first in this position, a long-awaited overhaul of PTMC only relying on psychiatry and social work for their mental health needs. To have someone on-site, in the emergency room, was PTMC's big wet dream; and you were happy to give them that happy ending.

---

Your shift starts at 7am and you take the long way to work to clear your head. The city you once called home has hardly changed, but the feeling of being back was heavier than you expected.

Your phone dings, a familiar face and name.

Dana: Hey kid, come find me at the nurse's station when you get here. you're gonna fit right in

Your physical therapist told you to take it slow, and walking was about as much as you could handle still 12 weeks post-injury. The pain shot down your back from your shoulder blade to your hip, a lingering limp still evident. The scar was "gnarly" according to your best friend, but you had been too afraid to look. PTMC sat at the top of the delightfully named "cardiac hill" -- One of the steepest hills in the city, home to several of the best hospitals in Pittsburgh and the University of Pittsburgh campus. According to local legend, more heart attacks happened here than any other place in Pittsburgh.

Your injury forced you to relocate with the distance in mind, but you weren't exactly thrilled to be sharing the sidewalk with undergraduate college students and their roller backpacks who barely look up from their phone. You were, however, thrilled to see one of the seven wonders of the world on your way to work-- Dunkin'.

America does run on Dunkin', and you know why? Because it's trash, and so is society. You don't walk into a calm environment of espresso machine and jazz music, surrounded by independent filmmakers discussing their film adaptations of David Foster Wallace like you would at a hipster coffee shop. Dunkin' welcomes you with bloodied open arms into a warzone. An absolutely unhinged battlefield, people screaming, the excitement of giving your order to someone who absolutely could not give a fuck. You let Dunkin' tell you what you need, and not for lack of trying. You give the order but they rarely listen. Today you walk out with a large iced mocha, with whipped cream, after ordering a large vanilla latte with oat milk. The universe just feels right, a little off its axis and sickenly sweet.

You walk through the double doors to the ER sliding in between two gurneys on their way to the ambulance bay and make your way to the nurses station, Dana waiting with open arms

"It has been far too long, my girl," Dana hugs you tightly, "and boy am I glad you are okay, and you are here. Your mom told me what happened, how you holding up"

"Almost recovered. You should see the other guy" you reply, "and you look great."

"Thanks kid," Dana smiles, her eyes shift to someone behind you "Oh captain, my captain."

"A patient?" You hear his voice before you see him, and when you turn around, it's hard to look away. He's all tall, dark, and handsome, a real father-figure vibe towering over you. Cargo pants, black scrub top, a fancy watch, a faded hoodie. This must be the place, and this guy definitely fucks. He must have clocked you the moment you walked in--looking like a lost puppy with a limp and a cup full of coffee. Of course he thinks you're a patient.

"My daughter's best friend, and your new psychologist," She corrects him, "This is Dr. Robby."

"Sorry, I saw you come in and were limping, just wanted to make sure you were okay," He nods, confirming that he did, in fact, notice you as soon as you walked in

"The limp is more of a talking point than a medical emergency, but I wouldn't say no to someone taking a look at it. I almost got laid out by an undergrad with a roller backpack on my way here." You smile, outstretching a hand, "I'm Y/N Wheeler, the new head of the psych department."

"Michael Robinavitch, but everyone calls me Robby," He shakes your hand, noticing the tattoo stretching from your wrist to your elbow and under the sleeve of your shirt. He instinctively tilts your arm to examine the ink, a thumb rubbing over your wrist softly, without even noticing he's doing it. Ooooph. You clear your throat and his eyes meet yours, face turning a deep shade of red.

"Don't worry, it definitely goes all the way to my shoulder. If you're good, I'll show it to you." You quip, maintaining eye contact until he looks away,  "and yes, the nose ring is real too."  

“Wheeler! I see you've met Robby" John Shen takes a step next to Robby, a matching Dunkin' cup in hand. He raises his glass to yours, knocking the two together, "Cheers, bitch. Never thought I'd see the day you moved back to Pittsburgh. Welcome to the thunderdome.”

Shen looks at Robby, “She's straight from the feds. You didn't see her on the news--”

You interrupt before he can divulge any gruesome details of the trauma to your new colleague, “He means that I was a psychologist at the federal detention center not that I was in prison. Although always keep your cards close to your chest."

"Sorry, You two know each other as well?" He raises his eyebrows as the dynamic playing out in front of him, "Jesus Pittsburgh really is small world."

"We met in grad school. Gave him therapy the whole way through residency” You reply, "taught him everything he knows about screaming internally while keeping a straight face." 

"Ah" Robby nods, "That really does explain his shockingly chill demeanor." 

“Oh great, you're all here." Gloria interrupts the conversation, coming up behind you in a pastel purple pantsuit. Over teams she seemed less, up tight. In person, she's all business in the front and even more business the back, "Our newest chief psychologist. We now have our own consult, and she's overseeing the entire department."

"Figured I could help the ol’ pill pushers up in psychiatry. And plus, these patients seem like a breeze compared to prison." You make a joke, trying to assess the humor of the group. Shen gets it, and laughs. Robby gets it, wants to laugh, but stuffs his hand in his pockets. Gloria doesn't get it at all. 

"She’ll be spending her time between day and night shifts, the full 12 hours, so use her as an appropriate resource," she continues.

"You save 'em and I’ll keep them from jumping off the roof" You say quietly, nudging Robby with your elbow, a smile spreading across his face as Gloria turns around and heads off to whatever upper-management office she spawned from. 

"So where did you go to school?" Robby asks, hoping your answer reveals something about your age.

"I went to Pitt for undergrad and then Drexel for graduate school. Did my internship, post-doc, and forensic fellowship with the feds" You nod, "we had an infirmary unit, which closely resembled a hospital, but more security forward than anything. I'm board certified in forensics, but my internship focused mostly on neuropsychology." 

"Don't take this the wrong way, but fuck am I glad they hired someone like you." He responds, rubbing a hand over his neck,"Hell, some of us could probably use an evaluation."

"I'm excited to be here, but I'm definitely going to have to learn the sense of humors around here. I'm pretty fucked up from the prison, i don't have a great filter, but i work hard and I care about my patients." 

He stops walking and turns to face you, "you'll fit in great. So why did you leave the feds?"

"Honestly, I was tired of getting pissed on." The way you say it, so matter-of-factly, with the ability to maintain a serious expression causes Robby to snort. It catches him off guard, a genuine laugh erupting from his throat. He looks at you like he's not quite sure what to make of you yet, but his gaze lingers, a smirk on his face.

"Speaking of getting pissed on" another attending comes up behind you, shorter than Robby, but equally as handsome in a way that screams he's got his own trauma, “Kraken is in two if you’re into that sort of thing." 

"Dr. Abbot" Dr. Robby shoots him a look like he's trying to corral his kid. These two know each other. Maybe not biblically, but you know they've definitely cried in front of each other. Something you wouldn't be opposed to seeing.

"Who is the kraken? And do I look like I’m into that sort of thing?" He wasn't expecting you to shoot the same level of bullshit back to him,even as a shit-eating grin appears on his face.

"Never met a nose ring that wasn’t," He shrugs

"A little early for kink shaming, Jack, "Shen interjects, unable to help himself.

"Can't wait to see what my tattoos suggest" you raise an eyebrow

"Sorry, Do you two know each other too?" You can't tell if Robby's annoyed with him or the conversation, but Abbot ignores him.

"Military?"

"Feds."

He nods his head in approval, narrowing his eyes like he's trying to figure out if you're worth his time, "You on nights?"

"Next week. Running a support group on how to dive off the roof and land on your feet at 1am." You don't miss a beat.

"Right up my alley" Abbot responds, "you're going to be trouble."

You catch the look between Robby and Abbot, something unspoken. For a second, you could have sworn they were calling dibs.

[rageprufrock]

im curious -- is a hole in a glass stained window kind of how you imagine the MCU now? like everyone's okay and gets along, steve and bucky are bickering forever in some walkup in brooklyn, bucky running a bar lol. if so, i totally get it lol

Yes! Like I have no interest in sad endings. We already live in complicated times. As far as I'm concerned I stopped narratively progressing past 2012 Avengers when they all lived in the tower, Clint was climbing through the ducts, Thor was trying to rehab his shitty brother, and everything was copacetic and nobody was dead. The only addition I will allow is Peter being the Avengers intern, because it is funny, and will make Tony insane, which is also funny.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Okay I'm gonna vent about it a lot more calmly on main here but uhhhh

Folks. Folks I would like to offer a gentle fucking reminder to people who find themselves dating or fucking any native spanish speakers:

Don't make jokes about our language being ridiculous or unbelievable or otherwise worth less than English. You probably think you're just being silly and joking around with us. You are not. Your joke has context, especially for those of us who have had our language denied us at various points in our lives. And even if we're chill about it in the moment, that shit sticks with you, that's why it's called a micro aggression.

I really don't need or want anyone to get self-shaming about this post, but I cannot emphasize enough how crushing it was emotionally tonight to be having a cute and fun back and forth with someone, only to have them crack that joke about "crazy fake letters" the very first time I pulled out a pet name in my native tongue. Like. I'm not gonna lie to you and pretend I'm not mad, I **abso-fucking-lutely** am mad.

But the mad came after the wave of just. Cold, hard grief. After the feeling of the wall going back up because now I have to ask myself if this person knows how fucking RACIST and SHITTY what they just said was, and will they know THE NEXT TIME something like this happens, or am I gonna be fucking tanking microaggressions the whole time we're together? I'm mad because I have enough self-love to be angry someone was willing and able to hurt me like that and still thinks the flirty vibe is 💯 copacetic, not because I think anyone who makes this specific mistake is a monster.

But like. I don't think people understand how painful it is to live your life in someone else's voice because of how aggressively, racistly monolingual this country [so named usa] demands we be. How much it hurts for the words that mean everything to you to be nothing more than a fetish or a joke to even people who want to love you.

Anyway, you can take the bitch out of mexícali, but you can't take the mexícali out of the bitch apparently, no manches lmao

[southbedfordstreet]

love to think about buck thinking all his problems are solved re: eddie hanging out with other guys that are not him. he is like. everything is so copacetic now hehe✌️😙 he was only ever feeling weird about everything because he was soo into tommy. but now he's seeing him and eddie's not a threat to him and he understands his feelings now!! he won't ever dig for information from a 13 year old, play basketball, or maim his best friend ever again!! he's freeee!!! until eddie rolls up to the station one morning talking about some guy from the 133 he met at one of the chief's poker nights. *cue the record scratch and horror music that starts playing in buck's head* buck is like, "ha ha ha, are you going to do pickup basketball with him too? or no wait, don't tell me he can fly a helicopter too and he's going to fly you out somewhere ha ha ha ha" and eddie just looks at him like 🤨 and tells him, "no he can't fly, but yeah- he's into basketball too so we'll probably get into that," with a little shrug like it's no big deal. and buck- buck is trying to keep his composure but his brain won't stop spinning and suddenly he needs to have a good look at eddie's fridge calendar and figure out how to convince chim to join him for another pickup game

[vorthosjay]

What are political relations on Tarkir? Between the world guide, the stories, and the cards, I'm getting mixed vibes between "we're all unique cultures; maybe we can respect each other" and "if you're not wearing our colors & you step on our land we'll kill you".

I will say that people have wildly misunderstood the PW Guide building out the internal culture of each clan as everything being peaceful and copacetic between clans.

The clans are always in a state of fragile relations. Border skirmishes happen all the time.

[liminalmemories21]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by: @carlossreaders, @henrygrass, @paperstorm, @strandnreyes, @nisbanisba, @heartstringsduet, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @carlos-in-glasses, @whatsintheboxmh, and @hereghostslive. Thank you!

Paul makes small talk until they're seated at the small hole-in the wall Thai place that's around the corner from his apartment.  "So, how you been?" He gives Paul a dry look.  "That somehow doesn't feel like a random question." Paul shrugs.  "'cuz it's not, and you're not stupid."  Flicks a finger at Carlos's chest.  "Got the shiny star and everything to prove it." "Yeah, yeah.  So, this elaborate dinner date was to ask me, what?" They both pause while the waiter brings them water and their summer rolls.  Paul takes a bite of his summer roll and mumbles through it, "What I said, man.  How you been?" Carlos takes a more manageable bite of his summer roll and declines to mumble through it.   Paul rolls his eyes.  "I heard TK say that y'all were taking Jonah."  He pauses for another bite.  Chews and swallows this time, and Carlos waits him out.  Paul puts his hand down.  "Look, last I heard y'all weren't having kids, and then TK was talking about taking Jonah, and he didn't exactly go advertising it but it sounded like he was gonna go ahead with that whether you were with him or not, and now everything's copacetic and y'all are taking custody of Jonah for the duration.  So, I repeat, how you'd been doing?"

tagging @welcometololaland, @irispurpurea, @walkinginland, and @freneticfloetry (ahem, esta noche? said in a small hopeful voice)