#getting that flaming pony

[inubaki]

Wrapping (Adam was, indeed, worth a pony)

——

Based off @bloogers-boogers’s comic. Based off the adult comment of ‘well, what did you get me?” to destroy all spoiled children arguments.

The triplets want a pony and uncle Crystal gives advice to work for it through good behavior. While a certain auntie subjects a hostage/bribery.

Adam was just getting the festive mood with his family. And Crystal realizes he’s an accessory to a ‘kidnapping’.

Good news. Adam is, indeed, worth a pony.

—-sorry. It’s just a stupid idea that wouldn’t leave my head. That Adam refuses to spoil his kids like Lucifer is prone to do. Insisting they work for it. And work they did.

[ravewing]

diabolical mix of characters right here

[ciggiestash]

I spent 100 dollars on arcane tokidoki figures

[blueskyheadleft010]

Shoutout to the one fic written back in 2012 about Hasbro creating an ai god pony and it ending humanity in the most bizarre eldritch fashion.

Idk if it’s considered cringe or not anymore, but damn, sometimes I lie awake at night thinking about how eerie it is that ai is slowly evolving to a level of understanding human algorithms.

[iamlostandinneedofcoffee]

I like to imagine that every once in a while Red Hood just goes off comms for long stretches of time and comes back bruised as shit and exhausted before logging off for the night and the rest of bat brigade is trying to figure out which villain of the week keeps jumping him.

Eventually they, cause communication is a skill no one learned, just start harassing hood’s men to find out whose turf they are invading only to find out they thought the bats were beefing with Red again cause he keeps mumbling about brats.

Now they are trying to find out which one of them is lying about fucking with Jason and no one is owning up, the trackers they keep putting on him are fizzling out, no one as any idea and Jason ain’t saying shit. But like he’s never properly irritated about it or asks for help nor can they find anything out so they let it go for now (read keep trying to track him to no avail).

And then one night Red Robin comes across Red getting chased and then fighting off a feral looking teenager on the roofs of Crime Alley and just when he looks like he is getting the upper hand another drops down from above (how the fuck the nearest taller building is not anywhere near close enough to dive into the fight from what the fuck?!?) and joins the brawl.

Tim is about to rush in to help Jason before the two teens’ heads turn in unison to him with Lazarus green eyes and look like cats when they see a red dot. Jason panics and before he can grab them, they leap and now Tim is in a cartoon brawl dust cloud and all and Jason has joined in and is calling them all brats and how his gunna whop their ass- and there is a foot in his mouth.

And yet through it all Tim never feels afraid. In fact, as he fights he realises they are keeping up and beating him all whilst smiling and punning(?!? They must never meet dick SHIT DUCK) and that won’t fucking do, so he brings out all his tools and tricks and is getting matching by two raccoon twins. 20 minutes later they are all grinning bloody smiles and just as he is about to slam his bo staff up into into the female looking twin, a whistle is blown.

They all freeze and look over in unison as if they all became shining quadruplets at a giant shit house built fucking man. And like Tim has seen big men. Bane is a big mother fucker. Superman is a big mother fucker, and is also shaped like one. Bats is big but this guy even though his is maybe not as large he feels infinitely more terrifying and that’s before you get to the flaming(fucking literally, how does that even work or stay in the pony tail) white hair.

“Alright enough for tonight or foods gunna go cold. Inside.” A voice bellows across the roof before the man disappears??!? At the mention of food the one top of Tim almost starts drooling, gets up and starts dragging Tim’s still prone body across the roof and off of it OH FUCK AND INTO A WALL WHA and they went through it… well

A couple second later Jason and the other dude stumble in. Jason picks Tim up as he is coming down from that mini adrenaline rush at and puts a arm around Tim, half hug half chokehold, saying “say nothing and you get to join once a week. Say shit and you’re haunted.” And walks off to the kitchen and starts bringing out food.

… safe to say the rest of the bats are now confused why Tim of all people is now turning up bruised as well with Jason, cause if it was him to start why has he started loosing all of a sudden??? And he says fuck all but his weapons and fighting style has got more chaotic and terrifying.

Oh and he seems to be eating… well you win some and lose some

[yandere-wishes]

｡ ₊°༺ Pink Pony Club ༻°₊ ｡

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆Yandere! Dr Phosphorus x Reader ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

⋆.𝄞𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓟𝓸𝓷𝔂 𝓒𝓵𝓾𝓫 𝓑𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓡𝓸𝓪𝓷𝄞˚.⋆

✮★✮ Oh Mama, I'm just having fun, on the stage in my heels it's where I belong, down at the Pink Pony Club, I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club. ✮★✮

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He lets the music roll over him, allowing the drums to melt over his flames and bleed into the marrow of his black bones. When you dance, you have to focus on the turn out of each step, on the wave of your arms, when to stiffen when to loosen. It makes it all so easy to forget the pain of being constantly on fire. To forget the melancholy that festers inside you. When the adrenaline is this high, you can only make out the strobing neon lights and the dazed amusement of the crowd.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ It's hard to hate the music and the lights, to shy away from a crowd so easily fascinated by the gleeful macabre. It's really the most sanity-inducing thing you can cling to when your body has turned into the thing you once loved. When you've become your research after watching your old self die in a furnace at the hands of those who once wielded all the power in the world. Funny how we make our own monsters, funny how the thing that kills us, is nothing more than the very man we once tried to kill, now engulfed by his own invention. Phosphorus spins, left leg, right leg, jump, and twirl.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The dancing, the music, the clapping, the lights, it's all so perfect for melting away the terrible things that slither inside him, to burn away all those good memories until the kill and the luxury are all the remains. It's getting just too easy to forget his son's face, to forget the smile his wife gave him on their wedding day.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's a moment between moments when the world seems to stop. It's only then that he notices you, or rather notices what you're wearing. It's the dress he thinks, pink like the mushroom clouds he'd once adored, like the sunset framing devastation. Or maybe it's the way you have your hair so cruelly tied. Tight circle above your head like an atom waiting to explode. In a flash it's over, someone is handing him a drink. Another sitting on his lap. And he's thrust harshly back into reality, back to a world of trying to forget.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus is and always will be a man of logic. A man of science. He lets his fingers glide over the stack of pristine hundred-dollar bills. To think he'd spent his whole life begging for a quarter of all of this. Begging for scraps of funding to save the lives of thousands. It had all been so important once. Still, he can't help but let his mind wonder, what could he build with all of this? What could he solve, discover, create? He tells his men to lock it up in the safe, he's not ready to go back to all of that just yet.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The next time Phosphorus sees you, he's half sunken into the plush couch of the VIP lounge. It's been a long day, a long tough day. Everything had gone wrong and all so right in the same breath. This time your dress is the shade of clouds marred by the blood of a dying sun. He should know this shade from the history books he'd used to read, the shade of skylines behind ancient temples. Back then he'd been trying to understand. Understand what he's not quite sure, he'd been so desperate to pry every little answer from the world. To chew their solutions, breaking them with his teeth and spitting out his own variation, his own thesis. He'd been so utterly convinced of his own intellect, convinced that reading Saadi at the same time as the latest research paper on Nuclear decay meant understanding the world.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He watched with staunch fascination as you tried to dance. Following your friend's steps, heels stepping awkwardly completely out of tune. You bend your knees, sinking to the floor. And Phosphorus can't think of any excuses for why his cheeks feel hotter than usual. Why his eyes are permanently affixed to the sway of your arms.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He thinks you look just like nuclear fission dancing in the limelight with your friends. Like you've split your own body to create them. Little atomic nucleus dancing under his microscope. You look perfect, your toned legs amplified by the radioactive pink of your heels. Long neck he'd love to kiss decorated with a thin string of gold. You don't look a thing like the other girls at the lounge, you look like an experiment beckoning him, seducing him into cutting you open, and observing how you explode.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's been following you keenly, trying to see what happens next. It's the fourth week in a row that he's forgotten about dancing for the crowd, about the girls who used to hang off his arms. He's too devoted to this experiment. "Nuclear scientist finds atomic bomb inside ancient temple from the bronze age". Phosphorus examines the sway of your hips, the bob of your head, and the crude kicks of your legs. There's something wrong with those heels, they're too thin, too high, inviting everyone to stare at you. But he's quick to shove them away, circling you from afar. He can't let anyone tamper with his experimentation. Certain matter performs differently when it knows it's being observed. So he allows the notion of invisibility, making you feel unobserved, safe in your own ignorance.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He hasn't felt this alive in years. This ecstasy tastes utterly sweet, pure saccharine. It's the same thrill as watching your particles stabilize after days of trying to find the right frequency. Watching them organize into the right motion. And isn't that what you are? An ionized atom. After all, what is dancing if not ionization, if not trying to lose a part of yourself you can no longer bear?

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's late tonight, rivals had somehow bled in and were after the safe from Phosphorus' newest heist. He'd burned them to a crisp and danced on their ashes until they flew away. But that doesn't change the fact that he's late, too late in fact. When he rushes through the door, men nervously run behind him. His eyeless sockets fall upon an uttermost dreary sight...

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The problem with people is that they never truly appreciate beauty. They treat it as if it's something to conquer something to tame. They never bother to understand it, to study it from afar whispering prayers of gratitude for bearing witness to this new discipline. The man's body is too close to yours, head following your lips, as you awkwardly try to sidestep. The moment you try to flee he grabs your wrist. You scream, no one ever hears screaming through the bass and the rhythm.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's smoke in your eyes, sickly-sweet honey in the back of your throat. It's all too acrid but at least the hand assaulting your wrist subsides. The thing in front of you glows green, an acidic neon green that feels too familiar in shade. You watch as the skeleton seizes your shoulders, such a warm touch hearthlike in every way. He pulls you closer till all you can smell is null and all you can feel is smothering warmth.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never quite quiver under his touch, never fully shy away when he cups your jaw and tilts your head. It's like you want the radiation, want to feel his nuclear essence bleeding into you. Maybe then you'll be whole. Maybe then neither of you will need the music, and the lights, and the crowd to feel whole.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never belonged in the clubs, it was painfully obvious you could never mold to their dances, their music. Your heels never fit right. Phosphorous knows he's been trying to do the very same for all so long. Neither of you needed to kill off your electrons, to throw them away to ignorant nobodies who would sooner hurt you for their own voracious motivations. "Give me your electrons and I'll give you mine." Phosphorus tucks your head into the crux of his shoulder, "I'll fuse with you so you'll never need anyone else."

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus' hands mirror yours, swaying overhead before falling lower like the cascade of a wave. Side step, side step, stop, and bend. He thinks this is better than any club, any choreography he could do by himself. He feels so whole dancing only for your eyes. He feels so happy having you dance only for his eyes. Your palms touch as you circle slowly. Dancing like the airy rotation of electrons. There's no more dancing at the Pink Pony Club.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ What do you call a dance that feels like merging two atoms? What do you call it when your heart feels like the denotation of a bomb? He presses his lips to yours slowly, feeling the nuclei crash, a nuclear reaction, his tongue hum between your teeth endeavoring to melt away your fear. His fingers, dance across your hips heating up, leaving burning hearts and hand prints, claiming you as his, making you death just like him.

Lost the request for this but thank you so so much to the sender!! 💞💋💞💋

[tubbytarchia]

oops ponied more lifers (Jimmy and Joel are redesigned lol, design notes and original under cut)

With Tango I wanted to play with half body/split coloring and make him look scorched, including his horn which will just smoke while he's not using magic. I'd like to think he's absolutely fine and all that's changed is that he can only conjure fire magic but he doesn't care that much. His tail and mane can burst into flame whenever

BigB is a big guy with a thousand yard stare and prey animal behavior with his ears constantly tucked back. I really like the idea of him having a huge tail dragging behind him, adds to the unnerve a tiny bit. When people look away he turns into a hyperrealistic creaking horse

Why did I make Jimmy all yellow. His color is blue!!! Blue!!!! Even if I usually highlight him with yellow because it just looks nicer but!! Blue..!! Seeing Lizzie build a blue parrot for him inspired me to finally redesign him, his coloration is based on the blue quaker parrot! The canary theme can still work with this, I'd like to imagine his flight feathers started going yellow and he wasn't just born with canary feathers. Also tried to get across that he's a lanky ass pony but makes himself look smaller

Joel I think works so much better when he's relatively monotone and the green highlights are implemented sparingly (you know, as highlights). I think it makes him look more special even with normal horse colors than if he was mostly green, kinda loses that bit of the design that really identifies Joel AS Joel. Yeah my first Joel design was garbo. Also he's very angry that god made him an earth pony and tiny. sorry little guy

Also also I made this little video where Joel eats Scott and runs away with Jimmy you're welcome

[seasprincess]

cowboy!rafe and mayors!daughter

he’s here😋

Warnings:suggestive talk but no actually s3x, author doesn’t know cowboys that well

Being the daughter of mayor meant two things. One everyone knew you. And two, you were off limits unless your father had approved of the guy. And he’s a tough man to please.

Many men have tried. And many men have failed. Your father saying they aren’t rich enough, or smart enough or classy enough. But it wasn’t all down to him. All the bachelors that have come your way have not been what you see fit. Because you may or may not have your eye on a certain scruffy cowboy.

Rafe knows you’re off limits, he knows that there isn’t a world that he could be with you. You’re like a diamond and he’s a measly piece of copper. You’re clean, tidy and proper and he’s a muddy, loud mouthed cowboy who gets in trouble as easy as it is to breathe. You are out of his league in so many ways.

But there was one positive of being a cowboy in this situation. He knows his way around horses. And your family just so happened to be looking for a stable boy as you begged your daddy for a pony. Even though you know nothing about them or how to care for them. Or ride them.

And he was keen to help you out.

Rafe has been working for your father long enough to secure that job working at the stable. He’s perfect for the roll. So of course there was no hesitation when he asked. He got it straight away. Your father was beaming to get you and that damn horse off his hands and onto a trusted person.

This is definitely an upgrade from his usual jobs.

Your cute new ‘cowboy’ boots lead you down to the stables. Wind blowing your white dress a bit The suns out and it’s perfect for a day of riding. Apparently.

As your heels reach the wooden floor of your new stable, the sound makes a certain muscular cowboys head turn around from the hay.

“Howdy.” The word drawls from his lips and you just can’t help immediately getting flustered. God dammit. All he said was hello. Well ‘howdy’. This boy is trouble and you know it. But you just can’t stay away.

A moth to a flame.

“Daddy said you’d help me ride.” Your fingers make their way to your plaits, fiddling with the bands as you look at the cowboy. His hat the very one you bought him for his birthday. He lives in that hat because you brought it for him. Eats, breathes and probably sleeps in it too.

“That’s right darlin’.”

God even his voice just makes you feel a certain way you shouldn’t be feeling. Dad said not to get involved with this type of crowd. But here you are. Getting involved.

“She’s all set up for you. Just need to get on.” Rafe says as he twiddles a toothpick inbetween his teeth, eyes locked onto you and the way that dress is just the right length for him. Perfect for his thoughts later when his hand is wrapped around his shaft, touching himself to the idea of you.

He couldn’t help notice the cut off the top of your dress. The way your perky breasts were on show. God did you want to kill him?

“What if it chucks me off? What if it-”

Rafe cuts off your rambles with his hand as he looks at you. You begged for this horse and now you refused to get on it.

Classic.

“How about you ride with me? She likes me.” Softly Rafe brushed the horse, eyes never leaving yours as he tilts his cattleman hat back. He takes the toothpick out and chucks it on the floor. Rafes been riding horses since he was a young boy, so he could teach her a thing or two about riding.

In more ways than one.

“You sure?” You ask sweetly, actually praying he means his words. That he will ride with you. Because you need him on that horse with you for reassurance. For help. To teach you how to do it properly without dying, or hurting yourself. Which you know would happen. Your clumsy ass would fall off with in a minute of being on her. Her being maple the very horse that’s huffing in front of you.

You called her maple due to the fact earlier in that day that you got her you had spilt maple syrup down your new dress. The marks still there today. It’s a bit of a stupid reason but to you it’s cute. And Rafe just thinks you’re the cutest thing ever so of course he thinks it’s cute too.

“Yeah course doll. Let me help you up.” Rafe hops onto the horse with ease. It’s sort of mesmerising, hypnotic even, that someone can be so effortless at something that takes you a lot of effort.

“Put your left foot in there darlin’.” Rafe points to the stirrups. At least you know one thing. His other hand is out towards you so that your little hand can just slip so perfectly into it. The impure thoughts that flood his head about them are something that would send him to hell. Good thing he doesn’t go to church.

Your boot slips into the stirrups as you pull yourself up. Pulling on his hand as you hoist yourself up. Your legs swing over the horse as you slot in perfectly behind him, gripping in to him like a koala bear.

And Rafe just thinks you’re so cute.

“You ready?” He says as his hands find the reigns, the horse moving slightly as you grip to him tighter. Still worried about this whole situation. But something in you is excited. And enjoying being close to the cowboy.

Those little butterflies that appear in your stomach when you see him chopping wood or when he’s been out all day and is sweaty. The little white shirt highlighting his muscles. Making your panties wet.

Well those butterflies have grown bigger. Finally touching those muscles you’ve been thinking about. Of course you’ve had a few small touches here and there. Doing those things where you pretend to be feeling how strong he is.

You know he’s strong, he knows he’s strong. He’s proud of it. He’s always flexing his biceps in unnecessary times. Just to show off to you.

Cause unknown to you, he sees the way you cross your legs and advert your eyes from him embarrassed. The way you stare at him when you don’t think he’s watching. But he knows. He sees.

Your soft clean hands are wrapped around his waist. Your nails painted a nice pink colour. The difference between yours and Rafes hands is incredible. His are rough, dirt under the nail and cut hands. All that labour he does for your father. Wearing them down over time. And you’ve never worked a single day in your life. Your hands are soft, clean and cared for.

Your chest is pressed against his back, chin on his neck as the horse trots along in the field. The warm beeeze of the afternoon air kissing your face. You’d be lying if you’d say you weren’t scared. You’ve never properly been on a horse before. Thank god for Rafe.

“Calm down darlin’. You’re fine.” He says like he can read your mind. Tilting that god damn hat back again. He can’t leave it alone for five minutes.

“I’m just a bit scared.” You admit. Rafe makes you feel safe, with that southern drawl and sweet words. God is he so sweet. You just can’t help thinking about him late at night when your frilly nightdress is pulled up and finger rubbing that lovely spot in-between your legs. If only you knew what he did too.

“Well bless your heart.” He smiles as he keeps a hold of the reins, guiding the horse on this journey that he is loving. A pretty girls tits pressed against his back as he trots on a horse? He’s in heaven. “‘M gonna give you lessons in riding.”

If only you knew just what that means…

a/n: okay girly pops i’m going to write a part 2 to this maybe. this was a tad bit based of of Hannah Montana icl.

divider- @anitalenia

tags- @littlelamy

[thevoidstaredback]

Batman pulled up a world map as soon as the alarm started blaring. There was a red dot centered in Illinois, so that's where the map zoomed in.

"That's Amity Park!" Robin exclaimed.

Batman hummed. "Robin, contact Red Huntress and find out what's going on from her end." The boy nodded and left the room. "Constantine, Zatanna, figure out what's going on."

"Already on it, Batsy!" Constantine called in English before going back to his now four alternating conversations in Esperanto and Latin. Zatanna didn't even acknowledge the order.

"Everyone else," he continued as though he hadn't been interrupted, "set up a perimeter a few miles out from the town. Keep it in your line of vision, but don't get too close." He turned to look directly at The Flash. "I want you to run recon. Make sure this is the only place they're coming from. Once we find out their goal, that's what you'll be looking for."

"Aren't they looking for a child?" The Flash asked. He was ignored.

The heroes emptied the room swiftly, quick to ZETA as close as they could to the town before setting up a perimeter ten miles out. Close enough to see the town, but not close enough to cause any panic.

It was nearly twenty-five minutes later before Constantine and Zatanna joined them all. Though, they were both quick to make it known that the town was wholly aware that they were there.

Constantine went to join the hero's block-in, though he didn't stay in one place. He moved from hero to hero, keeping both eyes and one ear on Amity Park. If it was going to move, he would be aware of it only seconds before it did. He needed to be ready.

Zatanna pulled five of the American based heroes away from their posts to explain what she knew. It was barely any better than a recap from the meeting that they had vacated.

"Like we tried to explain earlier, they're looking for a child that the US Government took from them."

"The one from the pictures right?" Aquaman said, "Phantom??"

Zatanna nodded. "Yep. He's the town vigilante; Operating for several months longer than Red Huntress. From what Deadman told me and Constantine, Phantom is a baby ghost; he's only been dead for about a year." She ignored the various reactions. "He's also favored by several Ancient Beings."

"'Ancient Begins'?" Superman asked.

"Think Primordials,"

"Oh, dear," Wonder Woman muttered.

The magician continued, "Don't attack any of the R̶͎͔̿̅ḛ̴̗̦̯̭͇̰̎͑a̸̻̜̤̼͕͔̘̱̫̓ĺ̴͉̘̥͚̪̹́̈́͋̓͜m̶̬͇̅͑͌ṣ̷̨̺̜̣̮͔̤͕̃̍́͂ denizens under any circumstances. They're already going to be hostile towards us, we don't need to give them another reason to be."

"A bit late for that, don't ya think?" A new voice called, startling the heroes into falling into defensive stances.

It took several seconds to find the source. When they did, Batman asked, "Who are you?"

The being, female in appearance, was above and slightly to the left of the group. She looked to be in her late teens with teal-grey skin, a slight teal glow, and flaming teal hair tied in a high pony, bangs framing her face. Her eyes glowed the same radioactive green as Phantom's had in the picture, though less so. She was wearing black pants, a black crop-top, grey knee boots, and a single black elbow glove. There was a guitar strapped to her back that gave off a slight purple glow. Even from where the Justice League heroes were standing, they could feel heat radiating off of her.

"It doesn't matter who I am, does it?" the girl sneered down at them, "What matters is that you dickheads took on of ours, and we intend to get him back." She very obviously assessed the group, not hiding her distaste. "Phantom told me this world had other heroes." She lowered slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Where were you."

"Excuse me?" Green Lantern asked.

"Where were you?" she reiterated.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"You're talking about the threats here, right?" Zatanna asked.

The being turned her full attention to the magician. "You knew?"

Zatanna nodded. "My colleagues and I have been keeping an eye on Amity Park since the rifts opened up last year."

The girl's eyes narrowed and she nodded at the five heroes. "These your colleagues?"

"Technically."

"I don't much like technicalities," she hummed. "You must be the one Deadman told us about."

"You know Deadman?" Green Lantern asked. He was ignored.

"Yeah?" Zatanna nodded.

"I'm Ember," she said after a moment, touching down in front of Zatanna. "Deadman convinced the Council to hold in Amity Park until the end of the day. The second the sun goes down, we act on our own."

"I'm Zatanna," she shook her hand, "We're going to find him."

Ember glared, her grip tightening. "You better. He's done more for your world than any of you could ever acknowledge." She turned her glare on the five heroes before flying back up. "And once he's back with us, where he belongs, we'll think about calling a ceasefire." She left before another word could be said.

Zatanna fell into a crouch, her hands covering her face. "This is a nightmare," she whispered before popping back to her full height. "That could've gone better."

"It also could've gone worse." Aquaman tried to console. It didnt work.

"Well, you heard her, we have less than twelve hours to find the kid before the R̶͎͔̿̅ḛ̴̗̦̯̭͇̰̎͑a̸̻̜̤̼͕͔̘̱̫̓ĺ̴͉̘̥͚̪̹́̈́͋̓͜m̶̬͇̅͑͌ṣ̷̨̺̜̣̮͔̤͕̃̍́͂ denizens set themselves loose."

The group shared a loo, quickly moving to pass on the word to everyone else. Off to the side, Superman was relaying to The Flash.

***

Barry had worked on time limits before. Hel, he was usually pretty good at meeting them ever since he got his powers! What he wasn't great at was working under huge amounts of pressure.

He had to cover the entire United States in less than twelve hours. Easy, done. Adding on every out-of-country US Base around the world? Slightly less easy, but still very doable. Looking for a child in what was probably a secret, undocumented, or at least heavily covered, US Base is a bit harder, especially undetected.

Normally, the Justice League would have no problems with making their opinions on matters known, but this was a delicate matter. Even more delicate than the Metahuman Rights Act and Diplomatic Missions to other worlds. This was an issue they'd not been previously aware of, and the dimension that it most affected was now very close to decaring war.

No pressure.

He'd already cleared all of the known Government Bases along the East Coast and was steadily moving inland. Superman, upon Zatanna's and Constantine's advisement, was being productive away from Amity Park. With The Flash covering the US and Superman literally everywhere else, they had hopes of finding the child within the next few hours. The problems were going to start anew after that.

Batman was already working on several extraction plans based off of the blueprints for every US Gov. Base he has access to- don't ask. But, without knowing the actual building's layout, guard posts, shifts, security, whereabouts, etc., no one could make a concrete plan.

There were too many unknowns and it was upsetting everyone.

Robin had managed to get ahold of both his team, readying them for evacuation, and Red Huntress. Apparently, there was nothing she could do. She'd tried to capture the ghosts - as she'd called them - but they'd quickly overwhelmed her. Everyone was locked in their homes until further notice. Luckily, the ghosts seemed content to them the humans alone as long as they stayed out of the way.

There was now five hours until the sun set in Illinois, and Barry had only just cleared the Midwest.

Nothing. Not a single hint as to where they were keeping this child! They had the two fastest heroes out looking for him, the had pictures of what he looked like! By all means, they should have found him already! And yet, they were still empty handed.

The people of Amity Park were getting restless. The ghosts that had taken over Amity Park were getting restless. The Justice League were getting restless.

Constantine and Zatanna had declared that the town would likely not be moving any time soon, not that anyone even knew what the meant. They'd still be keeping an eye and ear on the town, but it no longer had most of their focus. Instead, they were trying to get ahold of Deadman with little success. If they didn't reach them soon, one of them would have to go into the town proper and talk to the ghosts. No one was very excited for that.

Minutes before the sunset in Illinois, Robin received an emergency call from Red Huntress. One that everyone was patched into.

A boy was missing from his house. Daniel Fenton, son of the town's resident Ghost Hunters, hadn't been accounted for.

The sun set over Amity Park Illinois.

Part 3 Part 5

[nayaesworld]

Deliver us from Eva

Pairing:Terry Richmond x Eva

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine), smut, love bombing

Summary: In a rush to stake her claim in the bedroom, Eva unknowingly signs a deal with the devil…

A/N: This will be strictly a one shot.(telling myself this bc ik how I am😗)

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“Stuck up boujie bitch that thought she ran the office”. That’s what they all thought about Eva, but if she didn’t…who would? They were all dunces and lacked the overall beauty and intelligence that she held and quite frankly she wouldn’t apologize for it. Just a bunch of losers who couldn’t kiss her ass if it was engulfed in flames. She was just a young hot babe that overly excelled on the job yet they dwelled on the fact that she used work as a fashion show and the hallway as her runway..they simply couldn’t take her. But the newest work tea had her interested heavily…somebody had a crush on her. Well that explained all the little gifts being left on her desks, the bouquet of lilies, the little letters that explained how much they loved her work ethic and especially her radiant beauty. Well at least someone admired her hard work…and she had a feeling who that someone was.

She had noticed his affections…but everyone knelt down for her and kissed the ground she walked on. How was she supposed to know the difference? Terry Richmond was exactly Eva’s type. Tall and pretty with brains and strong arms that looked like they lifted twice her weight on a daily. His hypnotic puppy dog eyes would flick towards hers during group meetings, cheeks high and mouth upturned with a smile and she’d get suspicious of him and turn away with a roll of her eyes. He could try working that spell on another woman in the office, they were easier than her anyways. The fawning and gossiping made her gag on a daily, he was only ever cordial with the other women in the office and yet they acted as if he’d offered up his face as a seat. Pathetic.

But Eva still had an itch inside that needed to be scratched. She wouldn’t deny herself pleasure for one second. She wanted to ride that pony right off into the sunset, and she hated him for making her feel that way. If she only had to snag him and use him to get herself off then so be it..men did it all the time. A nice plan was settling in real fine in her head, the brainstorming room was Terry's playground it seemed, he spent more time in there than anyone and it showed. His business proposals for companies looking to work with theirs and diagrams were exceptionally detailed and straight forward. A man about his work. She knew where to find him and reapplied her dark brown lip liner to her plump lips. She sealed it with a clear gloss before puckering her lips and stuffing her compact mirror back into her purse, time to work some magic.

Terry had heard her coming before he saw her. Heels clicking to a beat so familiar to him that he could hunt her down in a building full of people. He had a thing for snobby pretty bitches, knocking them off their high horses and filling them with dick was his speciality and little miss Eva was his newest obsession…how fun. His matte black MacBook sat in front of him and he read through important work emails meticulously, a little bit of work before the play. She was getting closer now, just outside the door. Forcing his eyes to stay glued on his laptop screen, he tried to ignore her presence as she sat directly next to him. Notes of raspberry and saffron wafting into his nose. His ears began to ring and his foot tapped quickly underneath the table and she made it all worse by speaking to him in that sultry tone.

“I know your little secret Terry.” He paused his scrolling and arched a brow at her. Ahh so she had been receiving his gifts. Good.

“You have a crush on me, though I couldn’t really blame you.” There it was again, that air of arrogance. He liked that shit.

“Do I now..what makes you so sure?” He turned to her, giving her his full attention now.

Her full lips sat slightly open and her dark silk pressed hair fell around the cleavage that peeked from her blouse. Almond shaped eyes zeroed in on him suspiciously as she let his question sit with her. Fresh gel manicure tapping gently against the table brought his eyes downward where he watched the pretty manicured hand move to its own beat.

“Because I like you too. Believe me that was hard enough to say so don’t give me that look.”

“And just what do you like about me, Miss Eva…you ignore every other man’s advances so why me?”

“Because you’re smart and pretty..and I wanna fuck you.” Hmm a bit bolder than he’d expected but he’d bite.

“You wanna fuck me or do you wanna get fucked, there’s a difference mama choose wisely.”

The chair she sat in rolled closer and he was practically breathing in her whole existence. Her minty breath warm on his forearm as she dropped her hand onto his bicep, stroking against it like a sweet pampered house cat.

“I don’t discriminate, I’ll take whatever you’re offering and double it.” She was overconfident in her ability to overtake him and that stirred something deep inside him. Women didn’t usually challenge him this way and he was teetering on the edge of showing his hand…in due time.

Terry knew her type. Overly confident and arrogant to compensate for what she was actually lacking, he had clocked her months ago. Simply watching for an entry point into her head..to infiltrate her mind and body like a parasite. To control her. She had the workings of a good little sex slave…something to own and degrade. Something to tear down and build back up in his image.

“What if I’m not offering anything, what if I just wanna take. You willing to give lil mama?”

And willing she was. She had no idea what she was agreeing to..what she’d have to do to be down with him. The dark sinister side of him loved the art of ambush. The ability to play it up and source information about his prey while they stood in front of him. She craved something that he could only feign to give her, and he saw that present in her mind.

Terry didn’t know the true extent to his abilities or the origin of them. He assumed that they had been passed down through his bloodline..generation to generation. He knew things about people before they ever told him, he felt those things. Felt their turmoil and longing all around them, how it oozed from their pores like perspiration. And Eva was no different. She was desperate to feel any inkling of what she thought was love from people, underneath the facade she was heavily distraught by the lack of sympathy and kindness in her life. No one truly looked under her hard exterior and analyzed why she acted the way she did, said the things she said. But Terry would give her some justice tonight even if he was the only one that benefited from it.

Rushed lip locking and the sound of ripped garments filled his bedroom. There was no time to slow down. Not when her aura glowed blue with need and despair and not when his most carnal desires were coming to the forefront. There was wickedness at play there in the room, the lights turned down casting a warm glow over heated melanated skin and a tango of bodies that would frighten the gods. Terry withdrew his hand from her hair, the thick tresses so tightly bound that his knuckles rubbed against her scalp. And like a moth drawn to a flame, his brawny body carried itself to his dresser drawer. His guilty pleasure and the only white bitch that he had ever craved like air in his lungs —coke. It rushed through his senses like a dream, centering him and abusing him all at once.

The mini ziplock rested on the dresser as he snorted his first line of the night. Head thrown back in pure bliss as he felt the instant euphoric rush to his bloodstream. His back was to his dresser as he beckoned her to come to him.

“Do you partake?” A question so simple and yet she stared at him like he had two heads before shaking her head no.

“You do now… you’ll love it. It’s everything you’ve been missing I promise.” Her compliance meant little to him as he held the line up to her nose.

“Nice and slow, there you go.” He swept a thumb under her nose, gripping her chin gently in his hand. He wanted her fluttering around his space like a butterfly fresh from a chrysalis.

Her bare body twirled and wiggled in front of him like his favorite after hours show. Notes of Australian sandalwood and Haitian vetiver filled the space in his room, that intoxicating perfume that relayed signals to his olfactory bulb everyday. When she turned her back to him, hands thrown in the arm, he noticed the tramp stamp on her lower back. Heaven is what it read, but he had plans to take her someplace a little hotter, someplace she couldn’t come back from. A great satisfaction it would bring him to take her down so low he would be the only thing grounding her when he was finished with her.

He pulled her buzzing body to his. Naked chest to naked chest. His hands focused her whipping head forcing her to stare into his barren eyes, blown out pupils barely leaving room for the pretty brown he saw on a regular. He wanted all the signs of her snuffed out…aura slowly changing from blue to red. She placed her arms around his waist, lacing them together before she pressed her lips to his. A green light. An ok to wreck this helpless soul.

His mouth drooled and leaked for what seemed like the thousandth time already. Mustache and goatee drenched with pussy juice, he was getting his protein for the week and then some. Tongue curling around her clit to suckle it roughly while two of his fingers dig into her clenching hole. Her thighs had begun to bruise from his hold on them and the pain she felt from it made her moan and cry out loud. Euphoria wasn’t the word to explain what this was. This was splitting her mind in two, throwing her out and stuffing Terry inside. Did he love her? He had too, that’s what he had told her just minutes ago wasn't it? She wasn’t hearing things, couldn’t be.

“Fuck I love you too. Take it.. it won’t matter without you.” She was crying out those words to him, giving him something to hold over her. But what was she offering..,her own life perhaps?

Wild colors burst behind her eyes as she orgasmed again. Legs shaking and quivering in his tight hold, while she let him wipe tears into her hairline. He stood over her hand gripping her throat so tightly that her heart raced in fear that he wouldn’t let go.

“Love?That’s what you need right..what you’re missing? That’s what I’m giving you right…that feeling you feel right now, that’s the kind of love I offer Eva.”

Love? This newfound love made her heart race and beat rapidly in her chest, it squeezed and rattled against her ribcage begging for reprieve from his hold..the hold she felt all over her body. She wanted it tho, people never made her feel anymore, just made her realize how much she wasn’t. And when his body came to lay over hers, dick positioned just above her entrance she began to truly see.

“I own you from here on out. Forget your family..they never loved you. Forget your friends..they never offered you any solace. I can bring you that and so much more. If you just let me in.”

Her verbal consent unleashed something. And before she could protest in fear he sank deeply into her, and her mouth was caught in a permanent ‘o’ as he pistoned into her quickly. She cried quietly in his ear as the walls bled around them, her eyes wide in horror. It gushed all around them and she wiped her forehead feeling a drop splash there.

“Shh shh, there’s nothing there. It’s the drugs playing tricks on you I swear.” His deep voice cooed into her ear. His reassurance didn’t go far.

Her nails sank deep into his back as he bottomed out in her pussy. The lewd notices that came from between them were not even enough to pull her focus from the wall behind them. A pair of yellow reptilian eyes stared at them through the blood and she shrieked in terror pointing at the wall.

“He won’t bother us baby..he just likes a little show. You don’t mind now do you?” The unsettling grin on his face chilled her bones, but the fucking never stopped. He never stopped. Not when the headboard snapped in two, and not when she screamed bloody murder as another orgasm ripped through her body.

She made the mistake of shutting her eyes and when she opened them again she was watching herself and Terry on the bed. Her body stuck to the ceiling in a sort of lucid dream. She saw it all, the way he lifted her body and continued fucking her as he stood facing the wall now and how the Eva on the ground stared right up at her. Terry followed her line of sight and blew kisses up at you… the real you. Or maybe that was the real you, but how could you be sure. When you raised your hand hers raised too, and when you subconsciously asked her to wink at you she did.

Then came his voice, the lightest whisper in your loud mind. Softly pulling you back into your own body, and when your wet eyes fluttered open again viridian eyes met yours. Your body smelled fresh and clean like you had been bathed and your silky tresses sat wrapped securely under a scarf. Confusion set deep in your features and a pounding migraine to make matters worse, yet answers were all you needed. And like your mind was being read he provided one.

“Deals with the devil are best made sober…shall we try again later?”

@luvrsluxe @slvt4her @rawflwrs @thabiddie23 @blyffe @notapradagurl7 @sk1121-blog1 @dimepiece09 @playgurlxoxo @zillasvilla @23jammy @pocketsizedpanther @kenshisluvrgirl @brattyfics @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @melosliving @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @kirayuki22 @alyssawritcs @becauseimswagman1 @ranikyani @keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @simplyzeeka @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @hotgrlcece @miyuhpapayuh @uzumaki-rebellion

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Colorful contemporary home that is refreshing, b/c it's not all white, even if it's a little weird, just dropped. Built in 2014 in Beverly Hills, CA, it has 9bds, 10ba, 9,540 sq ft, $11.995m.

Check out this entrance. The gate opens, and you walk thru blue neon arches between 2 flaming pony walls and pink trees.

Then, enter a hall of marble and hanging ferns.

Look at this sitting room. The wall on the stairs is stunning and features a modern fireplace.

This is incredible- it's like an optical illusion. Glass flowers on the ceiling. I wonder if they're Chihuly's. They don't really look like it, though. They look more like bowls.

Soaring library wall.

The green wall looks like a bubble wall.

Look at the wavy ceiling on the left, and is that a fireplace? I've never seen a red patterned one.

This house is unlike anything I've ever seen. I don't care for the plant walls, though.

Wall of wine in the dining area.

What a kitchen. Do you recognize that wall? It's like the one in that crazy tile house w/the ceiling medallions- maybe this was the look they were going for.

Those are some interesting chandeliers.

The round formal dining room table seats 14 under an unusual artsy light fixture.

I hesitate to call this a family room. It's too fancy.

The primary bedroom is moody/modern.

What a lumpy tub sitting on a base of balls.

Matching sink.

Boutique style closet with recliners.

Well, this is fun. Look at the swing- do you get a good momentum going, then jump into the ball pit?

More games. Interesting ceiling.

The home theater.

There's a pool with sculptural art.

Outdoor kitchen w/a big pink gorilla on the counter. Does she convey?

Covered dining table.

Plus a kiddie playground. 0.38 acre lot.

https://www.redfin.com/CA/Beverly-Hills/9818-Hythe-Ct-90210/home/63651658

[evelili]

so i went to my local dollar store the other day nd found these g4.5 pony blind bag thingies for like $3 each

nd first of all lemme tell u, these are not high quality figures, but fuck if i didnt want a little twilight sparkle figure for my desk. so i was reasonable and got only 2 packs instead of All Of Them and figured it was 2 tries at a 1/4 chance, whatever right? best case scenario i get twi and rarity, worst case i get 2 rainbow dash

well as soon as i thought the worst case into existence i KNEW i fucked up. in that moment i was one with the universe and the universe was in my bones and i had tempted fate herself and was going to pay the price

i went home and opened the bags.

and i got 2 rainbow dash.

okay!! fine!!! we’re going to do it this way, are we? like no flame to rd, it just so happens if u have 6 main characters in a show and rank them, one of them is gonna b at the bottom of my list and thats ok! it’s just id really rather have a twilight sparkle figure please and thank you

so i went back to the store a day later and bought 3 more packs. each one a 1/4 chance for twilight sparkle. and as i was walking home i thought to myself:

“man, it’d b funny if this time i got every other figure except for twilight”

well guess what?

i got a rarity, a pinkie, and another rainbow dash :)

i tempted fate again and yknow what? thats on me! fool me once shame on me and all that, i had it coming. so now im here with my 3 rainbow dashes and 0 twilight sparkles and my crippling gacha addiction gene rearing its head for the first time since i managed to quit spending irl money on pngs of anime girls in 2019

i went back to the store.

i bought all the remaining bags they had.

i had 5 more tries. 5 more 1/4 chances to get a twilight sparkle figure. 5 more 1/4 chances to get a SINGLE figurine of my favourite character, and 5 more 1/4 chances to get yet another one of my least favourite.

i figured this time the odds were in my favour. i may have passed stats on a technicality, but at least i figured i’d given myself the best odds i could. and in my hubris i thought to myself:

“at least there’s no way they’re all rainbow dash”

well :)

i clearly hadnt learned my lesson

i’d tempted fate again, and FUCK if she doesnt know how to commit to the bit because,

i walked home from the dollar store.

i opened the last 5 bags.

and all of them were fucking rainbow dash.

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

Sometimes Pony and Johnny would just sit down on the porch together. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes Pony sketched, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes it was just them, sometimes the whole gang was there. But this time they were alone. Darrel was still at work, Steve and Soda had gone on some double date thing, Dally was back in county lockup, and Two Bit was off getting drunk god knows where with god knows who. But Pony and Johnny sat next to each other on the porch.

Their legs were touching and their hands were gently sitting over Pony’s knee, pinkies twisted around one another, passing a cigarette back and forth while they watched the sunset. It was nice and it was quiet, something that seemed rare these days.

Johnny finally said something as Pony took a drag of the cigarette. “We could do it yknow”. At Pony’s confused look and tilted head, Johnny clarified, “we could go off and get our big house on a hill”. Pony let a soft smile slip onto his face, “yeah, we could, and I could read a new book to us every week…” his voice trailed off as he let his eyes slip shut as images of it swirled in his brain.

He could see it so clearly. Just him and Johnny. It would have flowers, and a garden, and they could watch every sunset. Then, when it got late, they could curl up together in a huge and soft bed that they would never be able to afford. It was perfect, peaceful, and oh so far away. It would be theirs. He would be lying if he said he didn’t hear his brothers’ voices whispering that he was too much of a dreamer for his own good. Maybe he was, but when he was sitting here like this, listening to Johnny and feeling the gentle weight of his head on Pony’s shoulder, could you really blame him?

He was so lost in his head that when he went to pass the cigarette to Johnny, it slipped out of his fingers. He heard Johnny giggle as he bent forward to pick it up, knowing Darrel would lose his mind if there was another cigarette burn on their porch.

Just when his hand curled around the cigarette, it was like everything shifted. Suddenly he was surrounded by smoke and the hood awful orange color that he knew meant fire. Fire. No no no no, this couldn’t be happening. He was just with Johnny on the porch, laughing and dreaming about their future. He wasn’t in a church, he wasn’t surrounded by flames, he wasn’t alone. Except he was. He tried to suck in a breath but his lungs rejected the air, sending him into a coughing fit.

When he finally got his breathing more under control he began to look for Johnny, running through the smoke as it stung his eyes and he could feel the heat building all around him. But he needed to find Johnny.

When he finally saw him, he called out his name and watched Johnny turn. It took everything in Ponyboy to not throw up when he saw Johnny. Because the boy looking at him wasn’t the same one he was just with. No, this Johnny was in that same damn hospital gown he’d died in. His neck showed the nasty burns he’d gotten. His cheek still had the fresh cut from the socs. But the worst part was his eyes. Because Johnny was looking at him with dead and unseeing eyes.

Suddenly Pony was sitting upright in his bed, awoken by a loud scream, not even realizing it came from him. He was shaking violently, he had tears streaming down his face and blurring his vision, and his breaths were coming in short and fast. He could distantly hear Soda’s groggy voice, asking him if he was ok, but he couldn’t do anything but aggressively shake his head as he tried to force Johnny’s dead eyes out of his mind and he tried to ignore how he could still feel Johnny’s heavy and unmoving hand in his.

He felt Soda’s arms wrap around him but he could still barely register it. He knew Soda was whispering calming words but he could barely hear over the roaring in his ears. He didn’t know how long he went on like this, he just knew he was getting light headed from the lack of air, and he distantly realized that Soda was taking his arms off him and quickly rushing out of the room. Huh, that was strange, normally he stayed. Maybe he was just scared he’d die from being around Ponyboy, most people around him died sooner rather than later anyway, so it wouldn’t be surprising.

He hadn’t even noticed Soda return until he felt a larger and rougher hand on his shoulder and he watched someone kneel down in front of him. It was strange, this guy didn’t look like Soda. In fact, he almost looked like dad. But dad was gone? Maybe he was here to get Ponyboy, maybe Ponyboy was going too?

“Pony, baby, you gotta breathe, honey”

No, that wasn’t dad’s voice. It sounded kind of like Darrel? Ponyboy felt himself begin to sway, suddenly feeling very dizzy and even shakier than before.

“Soda, if this don’t stop soon we gotta take him to the hospital”

NO. NOT THE HOSPITAL ANYWHERE BUT THE HOSPITAL. That was what Pony’s mind screamed at him as he suddenly snapped his head to look at his oldest brother, immediately having a death grip on his brother’s hand as he shook his head even more intensely. He couldn’t make the words come out to explain just how much he couldn’t go to the hospital. Because the hospital was where Johnny died. It was where that sickeningly pristine white covered every surface. It was where he could still smell that sterile cleaner they used on everything. It was where he couldn’t go without picturing Johnny laying on that damn bed and dying.

“Hey, hey, we don’t gotta go but I need ya to breathe with me, okay?”

Pony tried to blink the remaining tears out of his eyes as he nodded. He felt Darrel move so his hand was over his oldest brother’s chest and he couldn’t feel the gentle rise and fall. He tried to time his with his brother and slowly, he started to breathe normally. He sniffled quietly, before speaking, cringing at the rawness of his voice, “‘m sorry for wakin’ yall and botherin’ ya, I know you got work early”. He felt Darrel’s gaze flicker with hurt before it was immediately replaced with a softness he didn’t even know his oldest brother could have. “You ain’t botherin’ us at all, baby. You just scared us somethin’ awful with how long you were like that”

Pony felt even more confusion fill him when he heard that, because it hadn’t been that long, had it? It felt to him like maybe 20 minutes? He’d had longer fits than that. Upon his confusion, he felt Soda’s eyes land on him, and as he reached out to wrap an arm around his brother, he softly said something that stunned Pony, “honey, you been like this for damn near three hours, I got Darrel after forty minutes, but you just wouldn’t calm down”.

When he looked between his brothers, he finally noticed the fear in both their eyes. They really were scared that they were losing him. Hell, he was scared he was losing himself.

“Do ya- do ya wanna talk about it?” Pony recognized this, it was what Soda did every time, he asked if Pony wanted to talk about his nightmare, about what got him so worked up. Usually it helped him, so he decided to give it a go. “It was Johnny ‘n the fire ‘n getting out ‘n-“ Pony stopped as he felt his breathing pick up pace again. He started curling in on himself until he felt Darrel’s hand on his knee, “hey, you don’t gotta talk about it if you ain’t ready”. Ponyboy nodded, feeling a hot and fresh tear slip down his cheek.

He felt guilt roll in his stomach. Guilt for the fire, guilt for scaring his brothers, guilt for everything. But even more than that he felt a hole in his heart, like he was missing part of himself. In a way, maybe he was. He missed him. He missed Johnny more than anything in the world. Maybe he always would. But his brothers understood. They were there for him. And that made him feel just a little closer to ok.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

could you write the gang (not separate), all having a crush on fem reader, like they’re all DROOLING over her and then someone tells her that the whole gang has a crush on her and she’s just like shook

Btw, i love your blog so much😛��🏼

Summary: The Outsiders all crushing on you.

Warnings: none Author's Note: oh to be y/n

It was not an unknown fact that the gang was crushing on you, well maybe to everyone but you. Your personality slotted nicely in with theirs and you were definitely not lacking when it came to looks. They followed you around like lost dogs and each one often tried to hangout with you. However, you were oblivious to this special treatment, just thinking about how kind they were. Even Dallas had let go of some of his bad habits around you since he was too busy watching your every move when you were around.

You and your friend were hanging around the diner when Johnny and Pony walked in sitting across the diner from you. Your friend nudged you and smirked when you saw who she was directing your attention to. “Look, it’s your boyfriends,” She giggled and you rolled your eyes. “They’re not my boyfriends, we’re good friends” You punched her lightheartedly and she just scoffed. “They don’t seem to think so,” Your face twisted in confusion and gestured for her to explain herself. “It’s so obvious that they both have a crush on you. Like, I can literally feel them looking at you.” She whispered and winked at the last part. You looked up and she was right, even if they averted their eyes quickly you still caught them staring. “Oh god, I never noticed.” You put your hands against your cheeks to cool the blush and your friend just looked mildly amused. “That’s not even it.” She said, poking you lightly and you groaned. “The rest of the gang like you too.” You put your hand over your mouth in shock. “What?!” You whisper-shouted and she laughed. “Oh my god you’re so oblivious! Darry took off work to go see you, he never does that! And Two-Bit invites you to take care of his sister to ‘get closer to you’, and Steve and Soda have been getting into competitions about who would win your heart first!” You were open-mouthed in shock but she wasn’t done. “Johnny and Pony have been following you around like moths to a flame, and don’t even get me started on Dallas!” “Dallas too!?” You ran a hand through your hair in exasperation. “Yes! He literally never smokes when he’s around you because he’s totally enraptured by you. You have all of them wrapped around your finger!” She makes a twirling motion with her pointer finger and you groan, dropping your head to the table. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do?!”

[lizzy019]

hi queen can u do something with ponyboy x reader where he has a nightmare and he ends up calling her and asking her to come over and as soon as she gets into the house by the window he gives her a huge hug and they end up cuddling on his bed 👁👅👁

AWW THIS IS SO CUTE! (use of Y/N, pls be aware)

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Ah, he struggled.

Ponyboy was never able to get the picture of Johnny in that fire out of his head. It scared him, really. Especially now so because Johnny was gone. But you always knew how to take away those demons that clawed so viciously at him, you knew how to soothe the burn of the wound that refused to heal.

So when the night creeped up, Soda always had to try and assure Pony that sleep wasn't harmful to him. It was just a matter of accepting what happened to Johnny before the guilt started eating at him.

But tonight wasn't like what Ponyboy thought it'd be.

The flames of the church burned so bright, reds and oranges that threatened to blind his eyes. And you, standing oh so crisp within the fired, burning. Oh God, that scared him awake. With a shiver of his limbs and a panicked jolt of his back, he got up from the dark bedroom and trotted himself to where the telephone would be.

With swift, desperate fingers, he managed to dial your number as he awaited your voice in the other side of the line. He was nervous, worried. What if his dream was real? What if you weren't gonna answer him? What if-

"Who the fuck is this?" Your voice rang drowsily in his ear, and he sighed with relief.

"Y/N! Oh baby, can you come over? Had a nightmare 'bout you... please? I need you."

And over the phone, he heard the softest "be there soon" before the phone went silent and the beeps of an ended call signalled. He was practically heaving air, begging for you to hurry up in his head while he waited around the entrance of his house.

The silence was deafening. Deep, endless, echoing. His heart was pounding and it was the only sound he could properly hear. Until he heard rattling outside after what seemed to be eons. You. It had to be you.

So like lightning, he zoomed over to the door and opened it to see you just at the top step, and poor Pony looked like he just saw the ethereal heavens. You always looked so pretty, so perfect to him. But now? In his time of need? Good God, you looked like an angel on Earth's surface.

Desperately with a sob of your name, he rushed to pull you into just about the tightest hug you've probably ever received from him, your hands coming to lightly rub at his back in nonsensical patterns to ease his worries.

It worked for the most part, but he still sobbed so silently into you that you were sure something was absurdly wrong with him.

"Pony, what's wrong?" You asked benevolently, running your finger over the soft bone of his spine you could feel from underneath the polyester shirt he wore.

He only breathed heavily, melting into you as he slowly finished his sobs. It broke your heart, what had him so worked up?

"I– I thought I lost you like I lost Johnny... I saw you in the fires..." He managed to sputter out, too embarrassed to come out of his hiding within your arms as his fingers dug into your shirt.

The realization hit you instantly, and you were quick to try and reassure him that he was okay. That you were okay.

"You're huggin' me, ain't cha? I'm here, aren't I?" You were so gentle while asking him the questions, trying oh so hard to ease him back into a relatively calm state once again.

And soon enough, Ponyboy was tugging you back inside of his home and dragging you with him to the mattress. Thankfully Sodapop was out with Steve at some party, so you had room to nestle in and use your shared body heat to ease into the springy mattress.

The rest of the night was spent with soft sheepish kisses, loads of cuddles, and some much needed rest.

Ponyboy slept better when he was with you.

[atomicpowered]

So I watched Hazbin. Let the record show that I am not a hater unjustly or unduly. I will put in the effort to fully experience the thing people are dumping on to see if it's legitimate. I went in with as blind a mein as possible given that I am Online and dialed in to various goings on in my swamp. My curiosity finally got the better of me.

I know some of the background of the show and the creator of said show, I have heard rumblings from the edges of my dashes and things passing megafauna-like underneath me. These cries of 'worst fandom ever!!' are pretty overwrought for what, by my eyes, is the pretty standard slew of agitated bees that follows this kind of thing.

Before I get into some thoughts about the show I do know that there was some talk about people not being properly compensated for their work on the newest, hottest, invader zim animated television programme. I have heard various things about what vivziepop (might be spelling this wrong I'm on a fight and bored so I can't check) has done, what fans of this show are capable of blah, blah— I get it. When you've been around the loop of this stuff as long as I have you know what many fandoms and sole operators are capable of. By my metric these examples are all pretty bad. Not the worst but not the best either. Definitely stand out from the other fan based background radiation on websites and in real life.

But I'm gonna talk about only what I've directly seen (the amazon joint and youtube pilot) for both brevity and my sanity.

I sell at conventions for a living, I've done so for years and have also been at that long enough to see swells and ebbs of trends that match up with their digital counterparts. Hazbin is… special. Not often do you see merchants throwing table balance to the winds to have MULTIPLE Hazbin (Helluva thrown in there too they're basically the same thing) monocultures for what they are hawking. I get the drive behind it too, no shade, make your bag, sex sells, but I can't overstate how rare this is! Even during the heyday of Genshin (lessening now) you still had different properties orbiting the cash cow on your display. Nobody just brought one thing and one thing only.

Now, on to what I have to say about the show. I'm sure some of these points have been echoed by a pngtuber with crossed arms but I feel compelled to throw my two bits in.

The show is all together, not good. Not horrific (barring some specific instances), but firmly overwhelmingly mediocre.I watched all of it, including the pilot, and besides occasional drama crossing my dash didn't interact with it much beyond that until now. Now that I have, I am very confident with my pre-watch assertions I made based on spitballing what I saw represented on and off line. I'm good at this kinda thing, you see certain patterns emerge from the data and you can make some accurate generalizations no problem. I frequently withheld a question when I would see groups of 14 year olds in pinstripe suits looking at my prints at weeaboo united or whatever convention I was at that particular weekend. Why are kids watching this show?

I know Why kids are watching the show, Hazbin is made (probably unwittingly) to appeal to kids! This is a neutral statement, I'm not saying it was to entrap kids or anything like that. The kids are a side effect drawn to what Hazbin Is. Not a target.

The appeal comes from a few main points. The characters are all designed like babies' first OCs, they drip little details and playground style power layouts. (My mermaid tail is blue and rainbow and I can shoot lighting and I have a pet sea turtle so obviously it is good or better than your flame covered tail and psychic abilities.) They are all based on a template that is easy to replicate and iterate on with enough play in secondary characteristics to make a bonafide example of some prime Do Not Steal. (Think Sonic, My Little Pony, Homestuck.) This playbook of style is sugar on a kitchen floor to ants.

The characters all say and do stuff with no deeper implication or subtlety, conflicts are raised and finished in minutes if not at least by the end of the episode. They have large gestures, big emotions, little depth, and huge expressions. They are stage acting, and the flat compositions in the storyboarding and directing reflect that. They are tell and almost never show. They walk on the screen and go I'M SAD or I'M MAD with no real subtle work. Yes there's sex, drugs, and alcohol, but, like. Conceptually you easily have characters acting like they're in saturday morning cartoons.

The overacting is great when you're sakuga brained like I am but it is so all the time and in your face that it just ends up feeling like those twitter videos of 60fps interpolated anime openings. (God I fucking hate those things.) Every character is moving and talking and wiggling around so much that it's like parents trying to catch the attention of a crying baby with hastily jingled keys. Even the swearing and the depictions of the more devious acts are so… juvenile. Everything feels like a combination of boys talking in hushed giggles at the back of the bus and what you scribbled in the back of your history notes among the drawings of the best realistic eye you could put out at the time. Like I highly doubt any of the audience knows what 'bolivian marching powder' is or does. And I don't think its main writer does either? Like one of the characters is in high profile porn, like at least make his vice a designer drug? It's like when kids speculate on what it would be like to be white girl wasted with barely trying a sip of Mom's vodka out of the cabinet.

So you got the combo of these character designs which mirror every tumblr sexyman since the bronze age and a very paint by numbers barbie house of characters. Of COURSE it bags kids like fortnight und cola. But like, why are people in charge just letting this rock? Is more my question. Who is letting Timmy get at a new glossary of stuff to yell at his substitute teacher? Don't answer, this is rhetorical. I'm all for letting kids self select but I kinda worry about this one and what it's doing to the teens. I'm sure someone more willing to explore that has said smarter stuff than me. But what I can see is you have the volatile type of person (kid or not) who is attracted to what I just listed grappling with badly handled (fumbled most of the time, let's be honest) adult stuff. This is the recipe in how you get a fandom that acts like this one acts.

My next thoughts concern Concepts and Themes. The ones here of heaven and hell are just kinda skated over as set dressing. In fact everything in the show is more like the plato's allegory of shit to stand on. It's basic on basic. Hell being an alright bunch and heaven being snooty know it alls has been done, demons that are niceys has been done, even interpersonal relationships set with a backdrop of a home for wayward characters has been done. Like again color by numbers isn't BAD! Just because these things have all been done doesn't mean you can't learn from and uplift your own idea with what came before. In fact, when you're having trouble making something a quote always comes to mind.

Wholesale ripping a chunk out of red letter media here: "Now I need to explain that I don’t think that all movies," ((Shows for my use case)) "-should be the same, or conform to the same kind of structure, but it works well in certain kinda movies. So unless you’re the Coen Brothers, David Lynch, Paul Thomas Anderson, Stanley Kubrick, Alfred Hitchcock, Lars Von Trier, David Cronenberg, Gus Van Sant, Quentin Tarantino, John Waters, Wes Anderson, Sam Peckinpah, Terry Gilliam, Martin Scorsese, Werner Herzog, or Jim Jarmusch, you really shouldn’t stray away too far from this kind of formula."

It's clear that this show has its roots in musicals. (Not just in the presence of musical interludes, the talky bits too.) Musicals often are color by numbers stories that expertly perform these fundamentals. They are a perfectly cooked egg. Simple, but a test. If you can't do the basics you cannot be expected to deliver on anything more complicated! It's also obvious that Hazbin's nest was lined with disney musicals specifically. I have my qualms about disney, especially the disney of today, but that's not for right now. Disney by and large knows how to color in said book to the point that it's a formula, and if you can't study this formula to excel at the formulaic you kinda deserve the crit.

You have rules and lore set by your world and you don't follow through with anything, your plots all revolve around introducing the coolest character yet or making your favorites even cooler but not like. Actually. Exemplifying what the hell is going on. I know people here are going to counter that they didn't have time it was only a handful of episodes with no knowledge if they were gonna get more, but so much of the show is donated to bad dialogue that goes nowhere, points and facts that the audience knows that are reiterated half a dozen times for no reason. They had TONS of time.

While I'm on the subject of dialogue, the dialogue is one of the things that is not mediocre but straight up bad. I already listed why above but to cite a specific example of something I haven't touched on, dear god you cannot lampshade your own bad writing by having the characters calling it bad. It is Marvel style spandex is stupid and comics are silly am I right guys 'jokes'. This 'joke' happens at least three different times in vitro and it made me audibly groan every time.

I am not a musical person nor am I musically trained but many of the songs are lyrically poor, abruptly plonked into the narrative, unfitting compositionally or, uh, poorly sung.The cast of VAs is insane, (looking at you David) and also often badly vocally directed. They are trying their best with the script but I'm more talking about how they are mixed. I found it hard to understand what was being said much of the time due to technical failures. Guys like Keith David can phone in a performance and Sell it to me better than some of the other actors putting their foot into it and that juxtaposition is also a form of whiplash that the show excels in. Vaggie is probably the worst offender for not being able to pick up the slack in this regard.

The characters being over and somehow under done lies also in their designs and the style that the show wants. I could talk for days about how much I dislike the sticks with a bunch of junk hanging off of them type of look. Nightmare to animate, no good character variation. I didn't even know what some characters were supposed to BE or represent. Alistor is a deer? Charlie is a faun of some sort? Where? Huh?

Too much red!!!! Too much!!!!! Red backgrounds, red characters, everything is a MESS, this is one of the things that actually gets me mad. There are no values! Everything fades into visual noise, which when you pair it with the animation constantly gesticulating at you and everything being bolted on with spirit halloween leftovers makes a leaf and stick tornado. (Nitpicky as well but pick a line weight and color and stick with it.) When blue or yellow came on screen I would audibly shout in excitement.

Multiple characters have tophats. Stop.

I'm not going to go into what I would do to fix the plot or design documents, I know it's been done to death.

God, where was I, I think I'll just finish this off with thoughts about the characters and then open the floor to comments or questions. I don't mean to make this a proper essay.

Charlie: I really dislike her, she's a weak character that has the IM TELLING HOW IM FEELING AND HOW YOU, THE VIEWER, IS SUPPOSED TO FEEL disease bad. Her design is one of the worst. I don't root for her much! Which is bad because she's the main character and I'm at least supposed to feel for her?

The snake guy: He had an arc. He's probably the most endearing.

Angel dust: the pathos they tried with his story beats is ruined by whipping back and forth between irreverent and WAY too heavy handed. People cried? What? Also the pig showing up for its two appearances to sell irl plushies was bad. His back and forth with other characters is hard to watch, and his capitulation to be better both feels forced and confusing. I don't think they know what to do with him. Why is porn bad in hell.

Husk: hi keith david. Bad design so fucking busy. They scaled him back from the pilot and I still flinch thinking about those tie downs. Why is alcoholism bad in hell.

Tv guy: better episode time than most of the other characters to the point where I suspect multiple writers to have been put in the time out chair

Nifty: Gir redux but with none of the heart

Vaggie: they were going for a wholesome lesbian relationship or toxic codependency and managed to do neither well. She has the weakest vocal performance, the name thing is bad, I thought she was supposed to be based off an owl or bird of prey but apparently not?

Mimzy: why are you even here

Lucifer: design so bad he falls into the background when he should stand out THE MOST. No episode, saying you're depressed and estranged from your daughter isn't an emotive beat you have to Show that by doing things.

There's so much I could say about carmella, the overlords, the other V's, adam, heaven in general, the over-designed incidentals, the exorcists, but I'm TIRED.

Alistor.

Man. This fucking guy.

His ethos is one of the worst in that hes just dripping in conflicting ideas from toe to head. He's based off voodoo? He's the 'coolest' one?!?!? He's word salad. Eldritch, forest, radio, dapper, fox like, the teeth, the staff, the vocal filter, he's a deer????! cannibal chaotic neutral shadow manipulator play pretty. He takes valuable screen time from everyone to blow keyframes and my time in being the 'coolest' most bad ass for real bro made in a lab to clinch a demographic annoyance.

Where do you go when you die in hell? If you died in heaven do you go back there? Nobody tried to crack getting into heaven before? Expediting a culling six months when you do it every year isn't as punitive as it comes off, where are the steaks? Why does charlie care so much about hell? Where are 'her people'? Why does charlie know that heaven wants to quell an uprising? Why don't angels know they can be hurt? Why does Vaggie not know? Why aren't people in hell doing like. Actual for real bad things most of time? You have a whole town of cannibals, something that's pretty rare, but barely anyone on any kind of watch list. Why is Lucifer estranged when he's clearly just awkward and it gets better almost immediately? Why does charlie not know anything about her country despite living there?

Auhhhhgh okay I'm done, I'm done. Like I'm frustrated okay!!!