#hold your media accountable fuckers

[bakugotrashpanda]

He didn’t mean to. Oh fuck he didn’t mean to. Bakugou could already feel a headache from the impending lecture his PR agent would give him in the morning – if she hadn’t already seen it. 

This is why he didn’t want a stupid social media presence to begin with, but companies willing to work with him dried up when they heard he didn’t have any accounts for them to exploit. So he did it.

Really, this was Kirishima’s fault. If Bakugou had his way, he would’ve been at home watching his favorite documentary to celebrate his 32nd birthday, but instead he was at a bar getting drunk off his ass. With how much Kirishima loaded into him, someone would’ve thought they were celebrating a 21st birthday. Fucker hadn’t even made sure he got inside his apartment okay after dropping him off. Asshole.

And now he has over a thousand messages, not to mention however many people shared it. He’d hear about this in the morning. 

He aimlessly scrolls through them, mostly from people begging for a chance to be on their knees in front of him. The initial thrill of people describing how they could make him feel good wore off quickly, and he was left with an empty nothingness inside him. These people didn’t know him – not really. They just wanted bragging rights. Guess who sucked a Top 5 hero’s dick? Yeah. Great. 

One message stops him though. A simple hit me up from one dynamight_lover69 no less. He smirks at the name. But it’s not the message that stops him, it’s the video they sent next. A banana on a table. 

Bakugou hesitates, but curiosity gets the better of him and he pushes play. He’s met with an airy chuckle.

“Happy birthday, Dynamight.” Your voice enthralls him. “Let me know if you’re… interested.” The camera shifts and he focuses on your soft lips, a hint of a smirk lifting the corner of your mouth. There’s nothing else he can make out about your face.

You hold up the banana and start to peel it – how can you make peeling a banana look so fucking sexy?

It’s what you do next that has his cock standing at attention. The way your lips part and your tongue comes out. He so badly wants to be the banana you’re teasing. Your moans fill his bedroom as you wrap your mouth around the fruit and start moving it in and out. The thought of you doing that to him nearly makes him burst.

Bakugou has to pause the video to collect himself. Maybe he could jack off to it, imagine your mouth around him. He wraps his hand around his cock and knows that no matter what he conjures in his mine, it’s not going to be as good as the real thing.

Fuck it. You only turn 32 once.

OFFICIALDYNAMIGHT: do you live up to your username?

dynamight_lover69: of course

OFFICIALDYNAMIGHT: send me your address

OFFICIALDYNAMIGHT: i’ll be there in ten

Check out the other replies here

[iwonderwh0]

It'd be a completely different media and wouldn't work for a multiple-choice game, but both Hank and Connor would be in such a completely different light if it was Hank-POV narrative.

You as a viewer would also think Connor is fucking annoying and you'd feel like breaking his nose the first time he brings up complaining about you to your superior. Like wow what a fucking capitalist dystopian police state is that where a fucking robot threatens you. And if he spills your drink? You fucking paid for it, and now it threatens that you'll have to pay for him too if you damage it? "Androids are there to serve humans" your ass, as far as you can see it's humans who are serving androids and CyberLife. Regular humans who pay for android's existence with their jobs, taxes and loved ones who prefer androids to them. CyberLife is holding the whole country hostage by their fucking things, and you even heard that some of their robots go crazy and recently one of them took a literal hostage? A kid?? The FUCK, how does things like that even happen?

You wish Cyberlife would be at least held accountable, but well, you lived too long to believe that they ever will. You know it from your own personal experience. Even if CL was made to pay some financial compensations, how can it be ever enough to "compensate" for the loss of someone who is fucking dead now, and what does a fine do to a multibillion dollar corporation? No one gets punished, nothing is done to prevent it in the future. For CyberLife nothing is changed, but for the people they harmed — nothing will ever be the same again.

You get assigned to android cases, as if you give a shit. As if anyone at all gives a shit. As if investigating any of this shit matters, as if it'll lead to some changes or get someone punished for letting it happen. Now you're forced to look at countless examples of this corporation fucking people over without repercussions. You don't even care to open those reports, they just make you feel too angry and hopeless. If after all those examples of harm they can induce androids are still allowed to be produced and owned what's the fucking point of looking into those cases? What is it you're supposed to do about them anyway, lay an egg?

Okay, fuck, you were dragged into looking at them despite your will, and now you are kind of confused what to make of it. You know those fuckers are made to look human, they are even made to laugh and joke to win your sympathy. But still, those androids you see don't really give you an impression of being broken, instead they look...

Maybe that's a stupid idea. And yet it won't leave you alone. It makes you angry because you genuinely don't know if you're just being a gullible fool or you're onto something.

The android that was assigned to you acts like your typical office Joe, the kind of people who even before the invention of androids gave off the impression of not being quite human. The kind that speaks like they've read way too many positive thinking books about success. The kind that describes themselves as "goal oriented" in a casual conversation and suggests colleagues to have a pointless team-building meetings.

You hate those guys even in their human form, so when you first expressed to that plastic Joe a desire to throw a bunch of them in a dumpster you're not entirely sure whether you're talking about just androids or this specific type as a whole.

While all the deviants you see appear to be really human that just happened to be in a bad place at the wrong time and make you feel doubts, the plastic Joe makes you feel fooled again whenever you look at it. Sometimes it does something that fills you with doubts, but then it goes back to rambling on about its task. It gets on your nerves, you wish you could just get a solid evidence of whether or not this thing feels something. You get real drunk and try to provoke it, to see if it'll react to a threat of death like other deviants you saw. It doesn't give you an explicit answer to your dilemma. You're left with your doubts on your own. Maybe this plastic Joe doesn't realise he's anything more than what he claims, or maybe he's perfectly aware and is just fucking with you. Maybe you just imagined a bunch of nonsense. Maybe that plastic Joe isn't like those other feeling androids you saw, and unlike them he's indeed exactly what he claims to be.

He gets killed right in front of your eyes. You can't help but feel bad -- after all, he still looks like a human and you feel like you "knew him" as a person in your life. Granted, one of the most annoying ones you ever met, but to even the most annoying Joes out there you don't actually wish death, even if sometimes you say you do.

You don't get to feel sad for long -- the next day the plastic Joe walks right back as if nothing happened, and ACTS as if nothing happened. It makes your blood boil and your eyes feel hot. It simultaneously makes you feel like a naive fool for ever bothering about it at all and like tearing it up with your own hands again so you wouldn't have to be next to it. Because you know you can't help but feel like it's a living person purely for how human-like it looks and acts, even when you know it's not.

Also it makes you think of how utterly unfair it is that something soulless can be brought back and keep "living" after a fatal accident as if nothing happened while so many actual and much more deserving people can't nor were ever given a chance. Nor ever will be.

It makes you even angrier to see how indifferent it acts to the fact of its own death, while you, a fool, felt like shit about it all this time and STILL feel like shit about it now. If you used to find yourself occasionally liking him before, whatever warm feeling you had are gone now that he's back after something that should have been a final stop. You can't stand looking at it, you wish to get as far away from it as possible, and yet you cannot stand the idea of it seeing it getting "killed" if front of your eyes again because you know that your human gut will twist all the same. But the way he acts, completely deprived of self-preservation instinct, as if at part intentionally trying to torture you, It just makes you hate him more. You try to grab him and stop him from what can potentially end in his destruction whenever you can. Not so much for his sake as for the peace of mind of your own.

The androids are marching on the streets chanting about being alive. They hijack a tv station and send their demands. If Connor didn't give you enough proofs to convince you, this finally does.

The question remains of whether all androids are just as the one you're stuck with. You spend the most time with it so, unintentionally, you project everything it does on all the rest of them. And if the only thing it reminds you of is this terrible nauseating injustice of the world that depresses you so much you already felt like disappearing from existence before you ever met and impunity of all those in power, maybe it's time for you to pull the plug already because there's nothing you want to see or stick around for anymore and only everything you hate that is left. And it will only ever gonna get worse, and you're too tired and helpless to do anything about it. And even if you weren't, perhaps it's just not worth it.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Out of Context Line Snippet Tag!

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet (here)! Not really an out of context line tag but rather using this as a Writing Share Tag for a snippet I really liked to write, but here we go!

Let's go with another excerpt from Scrapyard Boys, shall we? (:

There was the sound of a door slamming, followed by the shuffle of a backpack being dropped and a few unintelligible mumbles, as the lilac-haired young adult trudged into the apartment, turning on the light.

Rhys peeked around the corner of the cramped lobby, "Uh. Hi, Adrien!" He said, a bit louder than he intended to, but that on its own didn't really matter, because as soon as he opened his mouth, the other had scrambled away so fast it looked he'd practically somersaulted back towards the door will a yelp.

Rhys' mouth turned to a thin line, still smiling by the way, as he remained planted in the entrance of the room. Meanwhile, Adrien pressed himself against the farthest corner of the room, grasping at his own shirt like an old woman clutching her peals.

After a moment of awkward, wide-eyed silence, Adrien finally spoke, panting for air, "Ok, firstly-" He looked at Rhys, then at the other twin sitting on his couch like this was just another Tuesday, and brows furrowing as he tried to grasp what was going on, "What. The. Fuck?!!"

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but behind him, Gwyn spoke up first, "Told you that we should've turned on the light." She said, nonchalantly.

The male twin whirled around, "But if we had turned on the light he wouldn't have even walked in! Then all this trip would be for nothing, wouldn't it -" As they began to bicker, the young adult cleared his throat.

"Um. Hold on." He speaks up like an awkward student about to ask the teacher a question, "Lights aside, are none of you going to address the fact that you literally broke into my apartment. On the third floor. And didn't you guys live half a country away, at that old fucker's house? How the fuck did you even find me?"

Rhys spoke up, "That's kind of a long story," He cringed, running a hand through his tousled hair, "And in short: you left the window open so we just made a little ice stair and climbed up to here; no, because Grandma-Dearest pawned us off to a lab where we spent out past three years, and Gwyn" She waved giddily at Adrien after the mention of her name, "- May or may not have found your address after hacking into your social media account." He said it all in one breath.

Adrien blinked once, then twice. On the third time, he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and shouldered past the teen standing in the lobby, "I am far too fucking sober for this shit but a'right." He sighs again, "Whatever."

Noticing that the twins seemed to still be expecting some sort of confirmation, "Yes, that means you can stay." He said, with an exasperated roll of his eyes, lighting a cigarette, "There's pizza on the fridge. I think."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[stardewnoodles]

And I shall lie here, betwixed by love and resolve, unsure which I am loyal to, or if either are even real. Teach me again how to be real.

I had so much fun with this one. Up now on AO3! Or read it below:

I

“You think Pico did it? He- no, you don’t talk! Shut the fuck up! You don’t scare me. Yous don’t know anything. By the time your “calvary” swooped in, he was finished cappin’ off Cass’s ass. Look at the tapes. Shit, look at the look on Pico’s face. He. Did. Not. Do. It. Cassandra did. She and her goons. She came in, spouted anarchist bullshit, and… why would anyone do that? And he’s the reason you even have a witness, period. Rest of us are dead, missin’, or hidin’ in the lockers you’re checkin’ in the school. Of course it sounds like I’m makin’ it up: an alien disguised as a goth shoots up a school, but as I been tellin’ you, I dunno what else to tell you, other than that. The truth. Go look in the gym. Body’s still warm. Pico saved my life and he saved Nene’s and whoever he could. That bastard did more than your entire pig force could in the same fuckin’ situation. You will give him the time alone he deserves. You will not walk to your ‘media buds’ and tell this city that my best friend is a murderer. He ain’t the hero you want, but he is one.”

“Nice little speech, brat. Look, I want to believe you as much as the last guy, but there’s one issue with your story. I don’t blame you for distrusting us-“

“Cut the shit. Don’t give me your fake ass pity.”

“Okay. Okay. The bullets we’re finding in most of the… school children… the fingerprints match the people you say caused this.”

“Oh, so for once you’re doing your job?”

“BUT there’s a small issue with your story. The alien bit makes no sense.”

“Check again, dumbass! It’s there! It’s-“


“There is no body, Darnell. Just a pool of blood dragged out to the playground and a leg. Oh please, don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost, no one could’ve survived that much blood loss.”

“…What?”

II

It’s a windy summer evening, making it impossible for the lighter to hold a flame for longer than a second. Pico keeps trying to make it last anyway, even as the wind seeps through the fissures in his cupped hand and blows out the light. He nibbles on the cigarette in his mouth, frustration building. The wind practically spits at the bags under his eyes; the sting of rejection by nature hurts as much as people’s do. Too tired, yet not tired enough, to give up. Pico lifts his eyes off the floor. The city doesn’t look like such a dump at night from a high rise balcony. God willing, it’s the perfect place to get shot at while witnessing the light show. The wind would be too harsh to the trajectory of the bullet, they’d need to account for that as he stands there, waiting with open arms. Nothing happens. Pico spits out the cigarette and watches it fall into the dark abyss below. A bad fog is rolling in, so death can’t see him now. His sweater threatens to rip off his body the way the wind is eager to please him, caressing his waist. With Darnell on his way—he texts this, and it could mean anywhere from five minutes to an hour, because that fucker loves to walk home—Pico falls into the restless delusion that this is a message from Darnell. Fate is bullshit. It serves as someone else’s means to an end that a servant of fate blindly follows. On his worst days, he can’t help but see its appeal. Pico blows a kiss to the wind and begs for it to fly off to Darnell. Only fate can be the reason they share this luxurious room. Darnell is a pyro fanatic who happens to be his best friend since childhood. It’s the classic tale of young love. These are one of the days where Pico looks to the city, outstretches his hand, and ponders.

“Darnie,” Pico whispers. “You wouldn’t love me if we weren’t in this together, would you? A freak accident made you step away from college, that’s all, before we met up again. How could you.” The wind howls and laughs at the man deserving of such. “I wonder a lot, uh, you know, if I stole your future from you. You could’ve been the next Oppy, heh. No. No, what am I saying.” Pico rubs his temples, then his eyes, groaning. If his brain is an office, then all the employees have left and the lights are turning off, one by one. “We both know why you’re not with those freaks. Still…” Life could be kinder to his one and only than this. At the cost of stealing the life of another man, Pico lives in a luxury he dreamt of as a kid. The kitchen has a marble-slated counter with a built-in microwave on the side. The refrigerator is behind an ivory wood door and a bronze handle. The bed is a king sized for two, draped with a blue velvet blanket and a thick comforter to make it easier to fall into the clutches of sleep. Each room is a different color. In the main room, the walls are a dark green. In the bedroom, it’s wallpaper of a boat sailing across the ocean, unsure of its destination, but traveling forth all the same. The brown couch is a perfect excuse for a second bed with how soft its fabric and pillows are. That’s not even the best part. The 4K TV hangs on a brick wall that has a gas fireplace built underneath it. The wooden floor is a standard light brown oak series of planks, but the rug in front of the couch is majestic: a handmade rug based off of Pico’s favorite show of all time, Invader Zim. A priceless investment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glances at the many weapons strung along the ground. Two out of the four are in dire need of repair This apartment room is one of many safe houses scattered across Newgrounds, paid for in full by the blood and tears of his kills. Vigilante is too nice of a word. A vigilante is supposed to be a hero in some way, shape, or form. Pico is no symbol of hope; he’s the reason windows have locks and figures in power, lurking in the shadows, have twenty men instead of five by their side. There is no side, usually. It’s the money that counts. He’s a bounty hunter, plain and simple, who rarely refuses an offer. A person who blends in with the crowd seamlessly, able to hook Newgrounds like a fish to bait. Despite this, he is simultaneously the very person they never want to meet in their entire life. It turns his gut into a Fruit Roll-up, but he must admit (oh yes, Pico licks his lips to it), the initial shock, the realization, it never gets old. He has to keep it fresh, or else it’s too boring. Raw human emotion is on the same level of eating strawberries the first day he buys them. They are succulent, ripe, and oh so juicy in a way that sticks with him until the next batch. It’s so fresh it gives his mouth an orgasm as it runs down the corner of his lips. Pico taps a finger against the railing. The taste is slightly different, batch after batch. Similarly, no one person evokes the same response to a topic. How delicious. Sophomore high school literature said that, at least. Pico steps back inside and closes the sliding door. The roar of the wind is forgotten by the soothing crackle of false embers.

A whisper comes from the gas. Pico gets close to the fire, cocking his head at the heat brushing against his face. The allure is still there in the form of the frustrated dance of the flames, anger begging to be unleashed. A faint outcry can be heard the longer Pico stares at the fireplace. Something calling to him with such bitterness, the flames may as well be spitting in his face. There are enough people to count on one hand who he’s heard with such hatred. He cautiously reaches out to it. The fire suddenly bursts with new life and swipes Pico’s right hand away. A hundred microscopic bullets tear through the inside of his flesh. His eyes widen in shock when he looks at his hand. The heat, which was meant to be cool at all times, was hot enough to add another battle scar to the collection in a mere second. Pico licks his dry lips. Hot as hellfire.

“Shit!” An issue with the gas? A warning? What else could it be? Pico shuts it off quickly and kisses the new burn mark on his hand. It’s right next to the other hand he sustained over two years ago when Cassandra… “Everything fucking breaks that I touch!” Pico shouts at himself, pissed off, embarrassed. Static sets in. It’s so loud in his head, blaring like the theater, but he can’t leave, he’s glued to the floor.

A rap at the door echoes inside the room. Pico draws the uzi strapped to his waist, ignoring the sharp pain running up his right hand, then up his arm. The safety flicks off easily. The fire dies down, its noise in his head replaced by the roaring static and the drumming beat of his heart. The average draw time of a lousy shooter is one and a half seconds. A better one, maybe a second. The best, six tenths of a second. Taking into account the fact that this is a safe house and he knows nobody else here, he has to assume they’re good at their craft. He either shoots the moment their gun crosses the safety of the hallway or dies. No, he has no idea who it is, he can’t shoot immediately. A shadow blocks light from crawling under the door. Keys jangle as the intruder figures out which one to use. Pico squints. Any second now, and then the noise will stop. Any second now, and he’ll have to worry about buying 5 gallons of bleach. Any second now—

“God damn it, which one of these damn things is it?!” An irritated voice hisses from the other side of the door, just as the lock turns and the door swings open. The static dissipates. Pico lowers his uzi, clutching at his head. Stupid fucking faggot , he grits his teeth, cursing at himself. Look at you . “Peeks? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or a demon, or some crazy type shit. You good?” Darnell’s wearing his white sweater and jeans today instead of a flaunting hoodie to blend in more with the crowd. He’s been trying new styles lately, this time with a touch of black lipstick he smacks his lips on. His hair has been cut down from a tall flattop to box braids reaching his neck. He got the haircut last week, and it still leaves Pico in awe. He’s gorgeous, divine, raw. “You’re wearing my hoodie again.” Pico clicks the safety on and straps the uzi back to his waist. He takes off his gun belt and tosses it onto the couch.

“Is there a problem with it?” Pico sighs deeply. He tugs at Darnell’s purple and yellow hoodie. It smells like him. It’s soft like him. “Thought you were someone else. You didn’t knock five times, just twice.”

“Oh, I was supposed to- oh shit, I was. I’m sorry man, I totally forgot. '' In his hands, Darnell has two black plastic bags that he grips tightly. They’re lightly covered in rain drops, a sign of the coming storm looming over Newgrounds. Pico looks out the window. Bleak clouds steal the sunlight and use it for their own machinations, absorbing each other like an amoeba. As if on queue, thunder rumbles in the distance. Darnell drops the bags and kneels down to inspect Pico’s hand. Darnell’s face distorts, as if he cannot believe what he’s seeing. He blinks a few times, making sure it isn’t a hallucination engraved on Pico’s hand. Darnell inhales and exhales sharply. “Fail at cookin’ again?” He says with a weak smile.

“No, no the uh… the fireplace.” Pico raises a brow at Darnell, but Darnell doesn’t leave him time to counter with his own question.

“That shouldn’t cause a burn. It ain’t real one in the first place. The gas is only hot enough to keep the cold out of this place. Yeah, that’s hot, but not hot enough to do that.”

“I know, but it did. It lunged at me like it had a bone to pick with me. Really fucking weird. It felt like being bitten. Reminded me of…” A lump gets stuck in Pico’s throat. The word cannot properly form and be uttered, even after all this time. What a coward he was. “You know…”

“She’s, uh,” Darnell pauses, biting his lower lip. He clears his throat. “She’s dead, dude, and last I checked the only person who could maybe revive the dead is busy rearrangin’ your ex’s guts and on our side. I’m sure it’s just a fault with the gas line. I’ll call about it tomorrow.” Darnell squeezes Pico’s hand affectionately before letting go. “Weird burn tat, though.” Part of the training Pico’s father made him endure was the reading of emotions through tonal shifts and a person’s eyes. Slight twitches and awkward shuffles reveal truths that were meant to stay buried. Pico can dig them up, and Darnell, here in the room with him, looks at his hand with fear.

“Huh?” Pico hasn’t been paying attention. Earlier it was too red to make out, but now that it’s settled, he can’t rub out of his eyes what he sees. It’s real. A fiery, distorted, inverted cross. Pico shudders. “Darnie! You don’t find that crazy?! Not at all?! Are you nuts?!” Pico whispers, venom in his tone, afraid of speaking out loud in case the tiny ignition flame that burns day in and day out is listening. Darnell jumps. He rubs his lips with a finger; he does it whenever he’s lost in deep thought, pondering the unknown.

“I’m out there, small time inventor with some fireworks on the side, not a D&D Necromancer. Ain’t nobody but the Dearest fam is, and they’re literal demons. Peeks.” Darnell urges his lover to think about anything else in the known universe. Pico chuckles at Darnell. Small time inventor is one way to describe a pyromaniac. He knows no harm can come to him when said pyromaniac is in the room with him, but he can’t rip his gaze away from the imprint on his hand. Maybe… maybe… maybe? Pico shakes his head. “Well,” Darnell claps his hands together. It brings Pico back to reality. “I did buy some new gloves for your motorcycle ‘cause you whined about it every day to me for the last two weeks. You wanna try them on?” Darnell eases out of the topic while rubbing Pico’s back and sits down with him. He presses the tip of his fingers against the aching muscles in his back. Pico forces down the rising whines of affection.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Pico nods to make his decision clear. Darnell takes the fingerless gloves out of the first bag. They’re purple and the same striking shade as Darnell’s hoodie. It’s a thick material with velcro straps. He puts them on with the help of Darnell, who slowly slides them onto his boyfriend’s hands. As Pico tightens the strap, Darnell rubs a thumb against Pico’s palm. The ginger’s cheeks paint themselves pink.

“Shit’s fire with the hoodie.” Darnell kisses Pico’s glove, looking into Pico’s eyes as if he is royalty. A chill spreads through his veins the moment after Darnell made contact with the glove, taming the wildfire in his hand. The heat travels elsewhere. Pico’s face turns red as a pepper. “I been doin’ the wrong thing, not lettin’ you wear my favorite hoodie more often. You sho seem to love it.”

“Shut up.” Pico says with a wide smile. He balls his hands into a fist. The pain is gone. “Thanks. Really, thanks.” He debates making out with Darnell, exploring the feel of the gloves against Darnell’s hairy chest. He decides against it; now isn’t the time, as much as his body screams at the slightest signs of affection. “What else you get?” Pico turns his attention back to the windows. Thunder booms outside the apartment building. Lightning flickers in the distance—nature’s alarm has been set off. Pico counts the seconds between each strike. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Another clap of thunder. One, two, three, four, five. Thunder rumbles the building and lightning touches down like an SOS, a call to get inside and stay inside. He turns back to Darnell, who’s holding two matching motorcycle helmets. Streaks of black lightning decorate the top, with an explosion of different shades of purple, like fireworks molding into each other, covering the rest. The visor, with its sleek black shade, blocks out UV rays from the sun to make driving easier. Pico notices how easy it is to see the inside of the helmet despite this. Another thing he notices: they are the perfect size for Pico and Darnell, respectively. Finally, the cushioned interior makes it wear for long periods of time without causing the annoying throbbing Pico is used to. It’s meant for Pico, no one else. It’s perfect. The craftsmanship could’ve only been done by one person in the whole world. “Darnie, you made these?” Pico asks, despite knowing the answer. Darnell gives a devilish grin. Pico wipes the grin off his face with a kiss to the lips, leaning over to roughly press against his. Darnell gingerly sets down his helmet before wrapping Pico in a bear hug. Darnell smells of ash and weed; it’s pungent, leaving the ginger dazed. He allows his body to sag into his lover’s arms, who tugs at his hoodie to brush a finger against Pico’s back. Kisses meet the freckles on Pico’s cheeks to form a constellation out of black lipstick. The longer Darnell goes at it, the more it smears, the less Pico can hang onto reality. It’s messy, how they like it, with tongues clashing and lips dragging. Darnell presses back harder. Pico’s eyes roll back. He is afraid to lose his grip, fall endlessly into the abyss, but Darnell’s hand interlocks with his gloved one and keeps him afloat. Their passion drowns out the rolling thunder. Pico opens one eye to look at Darnell. His eyes are fluttering, with sparks exploding inside of them. He’s still grinning. He’s in love, somehow, and Pico wishes he knew why. Darnell runs a finger up Pico’s back, but Pico wants to shy away from Darnell. Stop, stop! His brain shuts off, hurls itself into the void. He wipes saliva off of his mouth.

“Peeks? You drawlin’ again? Did I do something wrong?” Pico stares at the floor to try and escape. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He opens it again, this time forcing out the question looming over him like his shadow.

“Why do you love me? What… What the hell is there to love? We’re five months into this and I still can’t… I don’t get it. Fuck, man.” Darnell furrows his brows. He thrusts Pico’s helmet into his chest. “The fu-“

“Get it on. We’re goin’ out.” Darnell ruffles Pico’s hair and stands up, grabbing his coat by the door. He’s quick to move, agitated, hastily foraging the drawer by the door for the motorcycle keys.

“Going out? That storm’s going to wreck through here in, like, ten minutes! It’s gonna be shit!”

“Better bring a raincoat then so ya don’t ruin my hoodie. Trust me.” Darnell is calm, assuring. Pico’s soul flutters, warming his body. Pico does. Pico does with his heart and every drop of blood pumping through it. The worries fade. His heart blossoms.

“Bet.” Where Darnell goes, Pico follows, and so he follows.

III

Nene was quick to flee the graduation party scene and find a wall to lean on and a cigarette to smoke down to a stub. No one had been to class since the massacre, but rules were rules, and a ceremony had to be held for the remaining graduating class. “To safeguard their future endeavors and commemorate their resilience,” the Dean of Students stated in an interview the next day. Pico never showed up. His diploma was mailed to the current house his father lived at, since his mother had passed a year prior. Darnell clutches his heart. He’s ashamed to admit he hoped for this outcome. Nene hears Darnell’s footsteps before he sees her. When he rounds the corner to greet her, her cigarette is ready to melt his eyeball.

“Fuckin’ A, woman!” Nene giggles and goes back to dragging on the cigarette. They stand in silence, watching crows circle the school’s leftover property, as if there’s still blood to be found.

“We’re not going to college.” Nene states it as a fact, not a question, and even though Darnell shrugs, he knows she’s right. “Not like we planned on it in the first place. We’re maniacs, the three of us, destined for greater things.”

“Does that destiny include this shit?” Nene looks away, twirling the cigarette, making the smoke dance for her amusement. The risk of burning herself is alluring.

“I’m just saying. I’ve managed to get to Pico over the phone. He’s thinking about continuing what his father thought about starting after his wartime. Sounds like a hell of a time. I may join in.” Darnell stares at her, dumbfounded. Nene flicks the cigarette into the sewage vent by her feet, blowing ash off her hand. “Bounty Hunting. Does he tell you nothing? You’re supposed to be his BFF: Bro’s Faggot Forever.” Darnell rolls his eyes. “You should laugh or I’ll burn off your hair.”

“Haha.” Darnell retorts in a deadpan voice. He rubs his arm nervously. Being a mercenary sounds exactly as Nene put it, a hell of a time. They’d be able to make a load of money off of it. Even if the massacre didn’t happen, all three are adept in methods of killing. Cutting loose after all of this sounds like the best thing to do. Darnell weighs his options. The real world is a boring repetition of waking up for a job you hate and a life you wish you never had. Most people, on average, only achieve happiness in their 40s, unless they have rich parents. Darnell shakes his head. He takes this, he can skip more than twenty wasted years of his life.

Pico will be kept in his sights.

“I ain’t feelin’ good about this.” Darnell lies. Nene punches him in the arm.

“Mhm, don’t be such a pussy. Hey, didn’t you want to talk to me about something?” She asks while playing with spit in her mouth. A shiver runs up Darnell’s spine. He slowly nods.

“They never found Cassandra’s body, only a body part .” Nene chokes on her spit, doubles over, lungs clawing at her trachea. “I can’t tell Pico this, but you-”

“That bitch! She could still be out there! We gotta get her! We got to grind that bitch to dust! Then burn the dust!”

“Sssshhhh!” Darnell covers Nene’s mouth. She glares at him and licks his hand. He recoils back, wiping the saliva off on his graduation gown. “Fuckin’ gross. There’s no way she’s alive. They say the blood left behind is enough to be fatal.”

“Cops will say anything, Darnell, you should know this.” Nene drops her head. “I get why you want to believe it. What a fucking joke. All the shit Pico did for nothing, then.” Darnell wraps an arm around Nene’s shoulder, pulling her close. She pleads to whatever higher power may exist that they aren’t plotting the worst joke of the 21st century. “If anything happens, he’ll shoot you in the face for not telling him before storming off after her.” Darnell frowns. He’s motionless, but not like a statue. Rather, he acts like pudding.

“If he finds out, I don’t think he’ll recover. Nene, we have to see how this plays out. We have to act clueless. I can’t lose him, too. I miss our third musketeer. I want him to live. I want him to smile again.”

IV

Pico’s beaming smile reveals his missing tooth. It brings life to Darnell, and Darnell has to wipe a tear from his eye after he takes his helmet off. No, it can’t be. Darnell never cries, everyone knows that. Pico parks the motorcycle under the giant tree overlooking Newgrounds. Pico doesn’t pester. Surely, he thinks, it’s one of the many raindrops coming down. They run for cover under a garden dome that is closer to the cliff’s edge. They hop over the CAUTION railing and dash into the old rusty dome. They’re careful not to trample over daisies surrounding the stairs. It was made out of metal and silver, a gift to the first mayor of Newgrounds when the town was founded over a century ago. It’s seen three reconstructions in one hundred years, stripping it of rust and remodeling it to the image the founders intended. Regardless, rust and age return without fail. Another remodeling will soon be planned to hide its age, but it will be unmasked again in the future, and the cycle will repeat itself. Their helmets are placed on the soaked metal bench. The design is so bright, he wonders if it can be seen from Newgrounds. Darnell sits down, catching his breath, shivering at the water sticking to his butt. Pico cups his hands and shouts. Raindrops drip from their clothing like a leaking faucet. The dome gives the impression of a circular waterfall coming down from heaven, minus a small clearing that gives the perfect view of Newgrounds thanks to a protruding metal arrow that points north.

“WOOOO!” It comes back from the city, the trees, the sky, the stars, here on the cliffside. Pico’s pale eyes glow yellow as he stares at Newgrounds from afar. From here, the city is a petite Christmas decoration. Its lights illuminate the darkness in his mind and form twisted shadows in places he’d never think to look. Pine trees swaying in the wind give barely any protection from the downpour, but the taste of their sap reaches the lover’s tongues. The damp ground exposes the earth’s scent to civilization once again. Mud, grass, flowers, pinecones, all work in tandem to bring Pico to a calm state of mind. The rain is too loud to tear his thoughts from Darnell. Darnell, the fire that ignites passion, the only flame he’d reach out and risk holding close. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here!” Pico shouts over the torrential rain.

“Now you have, bozo! Ain’t it cool?!”

“Fuck yes!” Pico twirls around, taking in the sights and smells. He trips on his own foot and falls into Darnell’s arms, who reacts quickly enough to stand up and catch him. The raindrops cannot hide his blush. He brushes the water off of Darnell’s face with his gloves. His cheeks, Pico notes, warm his hands underneath the fabric. The fire in his eyes keeps his body warm.

“You asked why I love ya.” Darnell snakes his arms around Pico’s chest. Pico can barely keep his breathing steady once Darnell locks his hands together, trapping Pico. Each word pouring out of Darnell’s mouth, down to the syllable, rubs on his lips like a kiss. The ruthless bounty hunter crumbles and burns when Darnell plants a kiss on his forehead, which he can feel even after his lips depart. Pico whines, submits himself. He dares not touch it, fearing the black lipstick would then run down his face and ruin such a gift. The rain patters above, muffled by Darnell’s words. “I be seein’ an answer written on your face. Should look in the mirror more and see the man I’m seein’.” Another kiss. The two lingering kisses massage his mind. Pico’s breathing becomes erratic. “You’ve never been, and never will be, Cass’ mutt. She’s not who you are. You’re the one who ran on hellfire and came back swingin’. You’ve grown so much. And her?” Darnell lets out a heavy sigh. He looks away from Pico momentarily, then focuses his gaze back on him to keep him entranced. Receiving any sort of acknowledgement hits Pico where it hurts–the heart. He fights back tears, lips quivering. “Got all the qualities I love, too. Total bitch who never stops for nobody. Tough. Strong. Cute.”

“My father would be disappointed.” Pico mumbles with bright red cheeks. Darnell shakes his head.

“Tsk, tsk. We don’t care what he thinks in this house. I had no idea where to go, or who to trust, and you took my hand anyway like we never stopped seein’ each other. Saved me about as many times as I saved you. Ain’t nobody able to keep up with me but you. That’s besides the point. Look, Pico, you could be none of these things, you could still be that damned nerdy runt with glasses and braces who decided to book it to college, and I’d still sneak into your dorm and count stars on your face.”

“Why?”

“When I say I love you, I mean I love you . Not the bullshit you think you need to be. You .” The knot keeping Pico calm, collected, unwavering, snaps. You–the sharpened word was strong enough to cut deep into his soul. His duel against his pent up emotions has at last ended. Pico lets go of Darnell, slumps down to the ground, fists clenched. He trembles, and it isn’t from the cold. It begins to rain inside the garden dome.

“Me.” Pico chokes on the word as tears fall. Darnell sits back down, this time on the metallic floor, with his legs outstretched. He pats his thigh and softly smiles at Pico, who understands immediately what is being offered, and crawls over like a sick dog and lays his head on Darnell’s lap. “Darnie…”

“It’s all good. No one���s gonna hear you here.” The haunting flames Darnell sought to push back are quenched. Pico twitches in his grasp. His assurance washes over Pico, who curls up and bawls like a child. Not a soul is able to hear his cries over the fury of the rain except his boyfriend.

[saturnaous]

I realize I'm not sure I saw, and I haven't asked: what got you into the FMA kick? Did you watch it for the first time recently, or was it a rewatch? What made you want to watch it? Gimme all the context of your obsession.

OKAY OKAY. so actually what made me BE like "holy shit fma? ohhhhh" was. uuhhhh one, one of my mooties (red-r0ver thank you) like not often posting about it but agreeeing when things about it happened or something. there's a media axis thing somewhere on this website that like was like :"well made art-udder dogshit" on Y and "ok.-I will never be the same again/made me eat glass" and ON THAT. in "wellmade art-neverbe the same/made me eat glass" side of it was Fullmetal alchemist. and like it got agreed with or something idk. anyways that's how it fell on my radar. as a like "hmm I don't know anything about it but I wouldn't be opposed to this. it seems like it'd be enjoyable." and yeah. also I should feel I should mention that in the vauge void of it not quite existing in this time period it conisitantly connected in my head with Doctor Stone for some reason. I've literally only seen doctor stone or whatever through crunchyroll adds when I was wtaching that time I got rencarnated as a slime but it somehow got mixed up with fma. wirse crossed or something. idk.

but what ACTUALLY made me watch it was a video that was talking about Disabilities and Queerness in the Owl House. and DURING that. The person who had made the video brought up FMA and Izumi and was going through scenes of stuff of it. I'm pretty sure they were talking about Izumi with her organ damage and not being able ot have kids(how having disability rep can become related in points of your life), but it was going through some scenes of the show.

BASICALLY. I've seen Alphonse around very vaugely. I knew that he existed to an extent. I knew he was a lot of armor or a robot or something. But I had no clue where he was from and who he was. but he existed in a vague void of "cool character design that I want to kiss SO BAD" but nothing else really. did not know jack about him. not even his name. So I saw HIM in the scenes they were playing and I basically went

so. knowing me. an absolute sucker for armor and robots and things of that sort.(stares at ultrakill longingly). I went into a gc with my friends(it's called monster fucker faggot central btw. mffc. it's great) and I. WAIT I can actually get my exact words hold on. FUCK my screenshots are broken on my computer hold on. I will remedy this.

LIVE SPENXER REACTION.anyways. that's how my friend told me before his account got hacked that fullmetal alchemist is supposed ot be like thr greatest anime of all time. and then he told me to watch brotherhood and I DID and then I became OBSESSED and then I read the manga and now I'm watching 03. from literally the first 5 minutes I became obsessed with Alphonse. Alphonse. . . save me alphonse elric. . . alphonse elric saveme. . . anyways. yeah. I also have uerhmmmmm liveblogs somewhere skewed abount my servers and stuff of when I first watched it and when I read the manga. there's actually an image of me bawling my eyes out when I finished bh that my friend saved bc it's his favorite photo of me ever. teehee.

[teethpaste]

Sometimes you have sex with a person you shouldn’t, just to do it. Because of the lust or how badly you crave the feeling of being wanted. Because there’s a tiny voice screaming in the back of your head that THIS time will be different (when there’s zero proof to validate that thought). But it’s an important reminder that lust and like are different. Every time I do this I’m able to convince my swamp skull of a brain that MAYBE, just MAYBE it will be different. And it never is. I say out loud ohhhh I knew this would happen. That we’d text and talk like crazy for a few weeks to build it up. We’d have sex and then you’d leave again, vanish into thin air because having my body is another game to you.

Convincing me to let you in again - you’ll say all the things I want to hear. The things you know make my walls crumble. That even when you say you miss ME… we’re not thinking of missing the same things. Or maybe we are. But I miss when you slip from holding the small of my back to holding my hand when we’re walking around in public or when you rest your head on my shoulder for a cigarette on the stoop or even when I gently slip off your glasses for you when you fall asleep piss drunk on the couch. You miss slapping me in the face and choking me while having sex with me until you cum. We aren’t the same and I wish we were. Why can’t you want both? My delusional ass just rationalizes it in my head like “ohhhhhh he’s avoidant I’m sure he does miss you, he just doesn’t know how to express it”. But no. You do know how to express it up until you get what you came for. You’re a taker. And you took something again. And I’ll get over it, because it’s important to learn these kinds of lessons the hard way. And I let you do it. But damn.

The grossest part is I’m not even offended he used my body for sex I’m like oh god is it bc he saw me naked AGAIN and realized he’s not attracted to me??? Body dysmorphia is truly a mother fucker lol.

Even writing that out I find myself second guessing “was it worth it to let the love bomber back in. Cut him out. Then back in again to the point where you stepped over all your own boundaries, fucked him when you made accountability statements with friends and across social media platforms, and now you’re in the same position as before”. And at some level yeah it was. We had a fun evening and at some level it’s worth it to exist in fantasy land where I imagine us in a relationship. Because he’s the only person that has matched my level of weird/banter since I broke up with my last bf almost 2 years ago. But I also hate the fucking guilty gross feeling after when you realize that someone just wants to fuck you not love you and their words don’t match their actions. Even worse when it feels like they’re incapable of loving .. not just you, but anyone. Oh well. Back to the drawing board!

Also the funny thing is like, he told me he would disappoint me. And I told him I knew he would, but I wouldn’t be mad this time. And it’s true that I’m not mad. Old me would send a text now to be like SEE this is why I told you to leave me alone, because you come back in and you take and then you leave. But I knew he was going to do that. And he knows that I know that. Deep down I knew it would be the same. And I let him anyway. And that doesn’t need a conversation between the two of us to clarify. But I still find myself dipping my toe into a bit of delusion thinking “because I’m not gonna say anything this time, that will almost hurt him more”. And maybe it will. Or maybe it won’t. It probably won’t. If it ain’t the consequences of my own actions.

[g-on-ef]

Rant part 3

Army twitter really thinks that just because they have been around since 2013~2018 have college degrees that they are somehow above everyone else and are immune to propaganda.

Are there armys on that app that I genuinely love and respect ??? Yes.

Are there armys on that app that have shown they are a bunch of hypocritical sheep that think they're better than everyone else just cause they went to school and been with BTS longer than others ??? Abso fucking lutly

Since this whole t**nnie rumor I'm noticing how easily fooled these people are and how quick common sense is to leave them so long as it fits their narrative.

Bitches on that app will preach about trust the members don't trust the media and respect their privacy and these past days have proven point on how hypocritical these fuckers are.

Like yall mean to tell me that Taehyung, the person who values privacy above all else, Taehyung the one who thanked armys for not bothering him in Hawaii,

Taehyung who has mentioned time and time again that he doesn't want to lose his morals and principles who's always been open and honest about things would just casually stroll the street of Paris and allow himself to get caught with his partner ???

The same man who's managed to keep his family away from the spotlight will suddenly allow the paparazzi to catch him casually strolling with his partner ??? !!!

Its just so funny how no one was able to capture a huge celebrity like Tae on camera when he landed in France and yet some random paparazzi was able to. A paparazzi who mind you tagged the wrong accounts ???

Like you mean to tell me a "professional" journalist tagged not one but two wrong accounts ??? !!! And the fact that everyone is saying they got permission from their security to take pics but from afar ... like why ??? Why is it okay to take pics so long as it's from afar but in the past they've been attacked and taken their phones when they tried to take pics ??? Also how convenient that they got a "clear" photo of Tae but not a single one of Jennie and all we got is a video from an odd angle where her face isn't even shown.

Again let's go ahead and say they are dating why would either Tae or J*nnie need to be vague about it ??? Again Tae is a very vocal person and is not afraid to speak his mind.

Need I remind everyone how he was quick to shut those rumors down about the girl who he was supposedly dating ??? And before yall get on me on oh well he hasnt shut these down, let me also add the reason why he shut it down is cause the media got a hold of it.

Also isn't it odd that Dispatch and other news/gossip outlets haven't spread this shit ??? You would think that wit these two "dating" there would be news everywhere and yet it's always funny how whenever these two are "spotted" it's always outside of Korea.

Hell even when they were spotted Big Hit issued a statement that they were gonna sue the guy who was making edits of the situation cause it was fake.

So they can hide in Korea {which remind you is very small} but can't hide anywhere else ???

Also I'm bringing this up Tae is a very private person why would he or hell even J*nnie at that matter subject their partners to the hate their Fandom will give them ??? Blonks have attacked ridicule and done irreparable harm to Tae and armys are always retaliating why would they put their partners through that when said Fandumbs can't act normal ???

Like do armys not listen to a word these men say ??? They always preach about wanting privacy so why would they subject their partner to a Fandom where yall can't act normal whenever they fit your little hetero narrative ???

No seriously I can show yall screenshots of them being hypocrites when it comes to them being around women but if you bring up them being with the same sex it's all don't label them we don't know their sexuality you don't know if he likes men.

Just say you're homophobic and leave. It's better than yall having to harassing queer people whenever they make their art queer related.

Another thing I find it funny how these fuckers

Are so quick to attack taekook shippers and call them delusional and say the ship isn't real but are quick to believe this.

Like you mean to tell me it's impossible for them to be single, it's possible for tae to be dating J*nnie but it's delusional and a lie for Tae and JK to be dating each other even though there's a ton of proof that'll state other wise.

It's also funny how again yall preach about privacy but won't shut up about it cause for some reason yall need to constantly talk about it

A blurry video surface oh its him let's spread it talk about and have his name drag through the mud 😀 never mind we should just ignore it and not give it any more attention than it needs to cause at the end of the day it's his name that'll get dragged.

I can go on and on about how dumb these fuckers are and how they are making a situation into a bigger mess than it already is but every time I go to that app I'm reminded that 99.9% of the times there's no reason to do so cause yall already made up your minds especially when it fits yall heteronorm narrative.

And please don't get me started on the cosplayer bullshit -_-

Anyways this was a rant that went longer than it needed to so have a good day/evening/afternoon my Tumblr friends.

[jaythelay]

Could absolutely be honest and harder about it. But we're not gonna revolt and hold people accountable, and the US isn't going to flip on Israel during this moment. All she chose to do here is more than Biden ever, but it's not enough.

Regardless, at the least I can say it's more than expected and more than anyone else would do. Still, hold the fuckers accountable, she's working with what she's got and could absolutely do more.

I honestly believe she'll be better to Palestine than Biden, at a minimum, that's something to consider for some.

I don't like anyone calling it a """war""" as that would involve a country vs country in some manner. This is a country genociding another country, using terrorists it created and have created more of as an excuse to continue doing what it has the past 60 years of oppression.

"has the right to defend itself" isn't what any singular person is discussing and is a tactic to dodge reality and lie to people. Actually fuck off? Fuck off.

It can't get more binary than this, let's just be honest. It's a genocide. But for a politician, yeah, sure, whatever dude. I'm sure the fact only 10 dems voted for a ceasefire and called it a genocide is the real "binary" issue here. Can't blame her if that's what she's insinuating.

But Biden absolutely would never, ever, be any better or potentially change directions for the better. Kamala might. That's absolutely the best the anti-genocide crowd will be able to get this election.

You're either Third Party or Kamala, and let's be honest, you can't blame either for it, not everyone is gonna be as enlightened and informed as another, not everyone will have the same reasons and certainly not everyone will be accepting genocide if they vote dem.

Ya'll gotta understand there's billions of people and the "shit on what mindsets I don't like" mentality doesn't have to extend to people who aren't republican. Almost nobody has a good reason for anything, it's all vibes. The world doesn't work binarily and humanity is less stubborn and more logical in their own brain's way, not yours. If ya want anti-genocide, ya better start showing people the reality more so they can come to their own conclusions. Right or wrong.

Sticking to Tumblr and bitching ain't enough. Ya'll're quiet everywhere but Tumblr. Everyday I scroll there's a new atrocity. Start spreading that to every social media because the reality is the opposite narrative is everywhere else.

Ya have to spread. Literally Everyone On Tumblr Knows.

Not enough on Reddit, facdbook, instagram, etc, know shit but what people scared to say the truth have been saying. And I can't stress enough how bad it is to link this hellsite on other platforms or reccomend people make an account and explore here. It won't happen no matter how much you prefer this site. I'd sooner ask someone to download wpd and watch some videos there than tumblr.

Don't be mad at dem politicians for listening to what is the unfortunate majority comprised of hate, ignorance, and virtue signallers, in such a scary election for absolutely everyone. Ya'll gotta make the voter informed and demanding of more. And me being the only one initially going around with a 3 reply length copy paste for reddit was only doing so much. None of ya'll tried to spread. I did. It only did so much. Enough of us and it may do something more, but we'll never fuckin know at this rate.

Again, it comes down to: Make the messaging a Valentine's Day card so it's easily spread and easily sourced, and then spam that shit wherever you can. Sticking to tumblr and bitching in these massive text posts is genuinely pathetic.

Do Something. If ya don't, vote Third Party or Kamala. Just don't not vote, we have a chance at a third party, any percentage up from last election is a win. Vote Third Party if you aren't voting for kamala. Don't let people say it's a waste, most people don't vote, no election has been decided by the popular vote. Your vote won't make a difference in a sea, but it will in a pond. We just need enough rain.

Kamala Harris about her conversation with Netanyahu

“Israel has a right to defend itself and how it does so matters. What has happened in Gaza over the past nine months is devastating.”

vowed "not to be silent" about suffering in Gaza

said “it is time for this war to end and end in a way where Israel is secure, all the hostages are released, the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza ends, and the Palestinian people can exercise their right to freedom, dignity and self-determination.”

she is pushing for ceasefire deal

“It is important for the American people to remember, the war in Gaza is not a binary issue.”

“Let us all condemn terrorism and violence. Let us all do what we can to prevent the suffering of innocent civilians. And let us condemn antisemitism, islamophobia and hate of any kind. And let us work to unite our country."

link to article with video of her speech

[botanicalcanopus]

hit me with a big shot

assign aspects to the big 12/13 of the olympians

LONG LIST AHEAD!

Okay so lots of stuff list the main 11 with either Hestia or Dionysus as #12, I'll do them & include Hades cause it feels incomplete without him. So it'll go: Deity: Aspect-Reasons

Zeus: Rage/Breath- First I gave Zeus the Rage aspect due to his love of smiting shit at the slightest inconvenience or boredom, but Rage also deals with lies/false truths and delusions and my gosh did this dude constantly lie to HIS WIFE on countless accounts but also his love of tricking people for laughs and/or sex. Breath is due to his relation to wind and storms, as well as Breath heroic aspects/his kids having heroic aspects.

Hera: Blood- Hera only gets one in my mind, as she is always paired with Blood in my head. Her pettiness and messy relationships aside, her main responsibilities being related to marriage or overseeing Olympian matters often makes her a matronly lead. That and her whole deal is the relations between people, married or not.

Poseidon: Void/Breath- Fish boy here gets a fun combo of Void or Breath. Void is due to the ocean being less explored than space, and it being practically endless if you're in the middle of it. Plus, things we don't think about usually go to the ocean, either as illegal dumping or just as processes we forget about. Breath is like Zeus, with children having heroic legacies and being closely related to wind and air .

Demeter: Life/Doom- Demeter is pretty easy. She's the seasons and growth. Plants and growth and all that jazz are obvious Life traits. Doom is the other aspect related to her due to everything eventually dies and part of her lore is her leaving the surface to visit her daughter so everything dies for winter.

Apollo: Hope/Light/Space/Time- The man, the myth, the absolute fucking legend here. 4 fucking aspects can be given to this fucker without thinking. So Hope goes more abstract here, and kinda holds a place with Light and Space. Light being literal here but also the inspiration for the art and media that comes with it. It can also be the metaphorical Light at the end of the tunnel, giving you Hope to keep going. Time can be used due to the use of the sun to determine and tell what Time it is and tell when your day is over. Time is also the more masculine leaning aspect between Time and Space, which wouldn't you know it, he's the male twin.

Artemis: Space/Time/Heart/Void- The female twin, however, has the aspect of Space due to her high fem energy. The sun is seen as warm, the moon is associated with cold, water, and ice which is both a physical and metaphorical form of Space. Space is also cyclical and the moon has phases. Like the sun, there are lunar calendars, and can be used to keep track. Water is also something that slowly erodes most things, bringing Time's destructive element. Now the moon is also used to represent the aspect of emotions and the inner self, which is represented by Heart. It can also be associated with Void due to the moon only getting half the attention the sun does and a planet can have multiple moons but the system usually only has one star.

Ares: Doom/Rage/Blood- Okay so Ares is war and willpower. Surprise that he is literally the aspects seen during war. Doom is kinda obvi with the literal death and result of conquest. Rage can be literal here but also the grandeur of who is "right" and who's "wrong" can be skewed due to multiple reasons. Blood is once again obvi but Blood relates to interpersonal relationships, bonds, and leadership.

Athena: Mind/Light- Shocker, Athena is a Mind/Light player, who would have guessed. Mind is obvious due to her whole deal with knowledge, but she is also deity of wartime planning and schematics. Which fighting involves odds and luck, so the knowledge and luck combo lends itself to her possible Light aspect.

Hephaestus: Time/Void- It takes time to forge something and Time being associated with heat and lava, Hephaestus really doesn't have much going on in the Time aspect. Though he is known to bide his Time and set traps. Mainly here due to canon. Void is due to him being outcast by Zeus and Hera from Olympus and being forgotten about when compared to his siblings.

Aphrodite: Heart- Heart is an obvi sign of love and beauty, but also deals again with the inner self and how we see and present ourselves. Not much to the imagination here, as she is the deity of beauty and associated with love and lust.

Hermes: Breath/Mind- Hermes is a messenger who flies about on the winds with his winged sandals. All this windy, bird-related iconography is pretty Breath coded and his messages are known to appear at times of crises like heroes do to declare something from the deities who will impact mortals lives. Due to his godhood also being over commerce, trade, and their workers he is also labeled as a deity of logistics, obvi Mind related in these terms. -#12 is tied between Hestia and Dionysus-

Hestia: Hope/Life/Heart- Hestia is the deity of home and hearth. She is typically associated with the warm feelings of comfort and knowing you are home, which is a feeling I associate with Hope. I also would put Life as a possibility due to home being the place where Life flourishes and growth is seen best (either marks/damage from kids, adding extra rooms to grow your house/growing family, or literal gardens). Heart is a bit more abstract here, but you tend to decorate your house with aspects of yourself and there is the saying "home is where the heart is"

Dionysus: Heart/Rage- All that inner self stuff I've stated in all the other Heart deities. Rage is his main one due to his abilities of madness, drunken state, and all the delusions and lies that can come about from it. Pretty obvi choices here. -Bonus-

Hades: Doom/Void- I cannot be more obvious here. Literal death and obscurity here. Poor dude.

[cryptvokeeper]

“stop holding the writing of the dream smp to professional standards challenge” challenge failed im gonna be spicy now

because when they do something good, it’s all gushing and essays about how twitch streams are the best medium ever and the storytelling is revolutionary and way better than anything on tv, you guys.

But when that medium has limitations that lead to issues that are legitimate and worthy of critique it’s all suddenly pearl clutching and ohhh it’s just a small independent project, you can’t expect it to be perfect, they worked really hard on it, you guys.

I can agree that you cannot judge the smp on the same standards when it comes to things like budget or visuals or scale because those are things that actually can be limited by the fact that you are an independent project. But writing is literally the fucking equalizer here. You could be writing a story on looseleaf and passing it out on a street corner and it could still be better than a fully produced television show as long as the writing is GOOD. and if the writing isn't good, your audience has a right to critique it. Not the right to be an asshole, but the right to express what they find lacking. Because that's how writing improves. 

Furthermore, its not as if people are just taking the story too seriously and overanalyzing a purely silly low-stakes story. If that were the case then this would be a completely different discussion. Yes, the story is comedic and has a lot of levity as the people involved are first and foremost comedians. But the people who made the smp’s story also chose to tackle topics of political intrigue, mental illness, trauma, revenge and hatred, strained family relationships, and cycles of violence. If they didn't want to be taken seriously, they shouldn't have taken them seriously in the story. You dont get to explicitly add mature themes into your story and then backtrack and say its all just a fun joke when people try to hold your story to its own standard.

When people criticize the dream smp, they are not ‘holding it to unreasonable standards’ they are holding it to the exact standards the smp itself has set.

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

I can be your mirror - Daniel Ricciardo smut!

You feel insecure when you see his ex's instagram and Daniel decides to show you why you don't need to be

Warnings: smut! unprotected sex, low self esteem, etc

You were just chilling in the hotel bed, scrolling through your phone while Daniel finished taking a shower. It was Thursday night in Hungary, and media day was relatively calm (all eyes were still on Max and Lewis, after the whole Silverstone incident).

Your relationship was still new, you guys had just went public a couple months ago, and you liked that you were still discovering things about each other everyday, like how he prefers his eggs in the morning or that small scar under your chin he just noticed yesterday. Yet, some things weren't as fun to find out, like what his exes looked like.

A few fan accounts had started following you, including some F1 WAGs accounts, and you followed some of them back - you wanted to the updated, after all (or at least that's what you told yourself). The thing is, comparisons were inevitable to you - no matter how much you tried to be reasonable, low self esteem was always an issue to you. When a WAGs account posted about Daniel's ex hanging around in the paddock today and how cute her outfit was, you quickly found yourself clicking on the tag and stalking her ig. Perfect. Fucking perfect. You just have to set your own heartbreak up, don’t you? If at least you could let life do that, but no, you had to go and fall for the guy with the instagram models as his exes. You smiled ironically to yourself.

"Did you see Max shutting down that reporter on the press conference today?" Daniel said walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his torso and another drying his hair. You quickly locked your phone and looked up, startled like a kid caught with their hands on the cookie jar.

"Hum?" you asked him.

“What were you looking at?” he grinned you, throwing himself on the bed and sitting by your side.

“Nothing” you answered quickly, looking away.

“Don’t be like that. Tell me” he asked again, nudging you with his head.

“It’s nothing Dan, just silly old instagram”

“You wanna know one of the things I love most about you?” He asked before continuing. “You don’t really have filters. And even when you try to hide what you’re thinking, your face and body gives you away” He said. “That’s why you’re so perfect, you’re genuine” he touched your nose with his. “Let’s be honest with each other. Tell me what’s going on in there” Then he tried to lighten the mood saying "Can't be shirtless pictures of me that got you smirking, cause here I am in the flesh for you" you rolled your eyes but smiled at him.

“I’m laughing at myself” You said and he just looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, more and more, and it’s just like me”

“What you’re talking about?”

“Please don’t say it’s stupid” you said before continuing. “You’re like, a rock star… fast cars, VIP, supermodels… these stuff are routine for you, you have the most interesting life. And you could have any girl. And your exes are like movie stars, fucking supermodels, and I'm not sure how much longer till you realize that and just, you know” you said gesturing to yourself and waving your fingers in front of your throat like who says 'abort mission'.

"I should know better, I really should and this might be nothing, but the deeper we get in this, the harder it's to wrap my own head around it and it’s so stupid, but how can anyone compete with that?” You weren’t making any sense, you knew and he was looking at you with his eyebrows raised and lips pressed, like he was holding a smile. “I’m rambling, forget I said anything it's so stupid” You said hiding your face behind your hand.

“I thought you said it wasn’t stupid” He said opening up a smirk and you opened your fingers to look at him. He pulled your hand down. “But you’re right, it is fucking stupid, because there’s no competing with you. I don’t care if I have to repeat that a thousand times for you to believe me, I mean…you had to have a flaw, huh?” You turned your head to the side. “This insecurity of yours, that you’re not good enough, it’s just the most crazy thing ever. Because I feel exactly the same. I’m the one that’s not good enough for you. You’re so smart, and good and you actually do good in the world. I’m just the lucky bastard that got picked to drive in circles around the world”

��You know that’s bullshit” You said.

“I’m serious. This whole stuff, fame, whatever… doesn’t mean anything. It’s just not real. I’m glad I realized that when I did” you were watching him intently. “Racing, challenging myself, working with the team, you... what we have, those are the stuff that are real to me, what really matters".

"Okay" you nodded agreeing.

"If you must to know, the reason why I didn’t work out with anybody else, it’s because we were never more than fuck buddies. Those girls are great fun, but they're more worried about showing than being, you know? And I’m not really interested in talking about them because it doesn’t mean anything, but I’ll tell you anything you ask me” You were dying to ask him more, to know every little details and to learn from their mistakes, but you knew you’d become obsessed with comparing yourself to them and didn’t he just tell you he wasn’t interest in anything about it?

“Sorry” you said quietly.

“What for?”

“Being a nag. Killing the mood” he smiled.

“Don’t-” “you-” “dare-” He kissed your face in between every word. “apologizing-” “for-” “your-” “feelings” he pulled away and looked at you. “Specially not to me. I meant it, let’s be honest, huh?” you nodded smiling back at him. “And if I’m ever a dick, please tell me before screw things up. This is not nothing, okay?”

“Okay”

“And I’m flattered you think I could have any girl” he said grinning. “I mean, I AM pretty hot, but-”

“Shut up. You know I’m right”

“Maybe any girl who cares about that stuff, and my amazing six pack” he says laughing and kissing you.

“And hard butts” you replied laughing and reaching to squeeze his, playfully.

“And hard butts” he agreed, rolling so he was on top of you.

“Those girls are usually the hottest”

“Do you honestly don’t have a mirror at home?” he said pulling away slightly from you. “It’s okay baby” he said in your ear, lifting your shirt over your head, then nibbling at your earlobe, making you moan. “I can be your mirror” he said in a low voice, taking your hands over your head and pinning them with his own.

Then he used his knees to push your legs apart. You were following his face, trying to kiss his mouth but he was holding you down, his lips barely touching your skin now, him hovering over your neck, your collarbone, your exposed breasts. You were squirming now, trying to get some release. He just wouldn’t let you have any yet.

“You have the most amazing skin” he begin saying. “So soft” he looked up to you, you had your eyes closed now. “The most amazing boobs. Fucking perfect tits, so round… and these perking nipples, so hard when you’re turned on” his lips touched your breasts lightly, barely.

“Your hair always smells so good, it’s the perfect frame for your perfect face” He went up again and kissed your lips, biting them lightly and dragging them out. “I love your lips, I love how plumped they are. I’m kind of jealous actually” he chuckled and you opened your eyes rolling them. “And those eyes. Fuck, I know it’s the first thing anyone notices about you, isn’t it? Are you sick of it by now? So big and green. I love seeing them rolling back when you come” he brought one hand down, pulling your pijama pants down and holding both of your hands up with only one of his. “I’m getting there in a minute” he said grabbing your pussy. “I just want to tell you about your ass first” he said sliding his hand through your hips until he reached your ass, grabbing it then releasing to give it a slap. You let out a yelp. “You in the mood for a little rough love?” he slapped you again and you smiled through your moan, this is so hot. And the best part of it was that no one else knew this side of his, just you. It's petty yeah, but you decided to indulge yourself in that thought.

“I love your ass, I swear I was trying to be respectful today, but you were such a tease, on those little shorts, made me hard as soon as you walked in the paddock” he went down to suck your left boob in his mouth and you were so sensitive you couldn’t help but moan, loudly. “Yeah baby, let me hear you. Let everyone hear you” He said releasing your boob and nibbling at it. “I saw how the guys were staring at your ass today. Fuckers, couldn’t help themselves. Let them stare…as long as they know who you belong to” he said leaning down to suck on your other boob. “Tell me who you belong to” his voice was so low.

“Uh…you” You were a moaning mess.

“Huh?”

“You, Daniel! I’m yours”

“That’s right”

“Please” you begged.

“What is it? What you what baby?” he whispered against your skin.

“Touch me, please”

“But I am touching you baby” he said and you heard the smirk in his voice. “Oh, I see what you mean… you want me to touch your pussy?”

“Yeah” you nodded. At the same time this was torture, it felt so, so good.

“This fucking perfect cunt of yours” he said sliding two fingers through your lips and opening them to spread you to him, you were soaking wet and pulsating, clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at this” He said almost to himself, licking his lips. Then he slid his fingers in, curling them up, making a ‘come here’ motion. He dipped his head down, kissing the inside of your leg, then right over your clit, taking it in between his lips and sucking. You moaned loudly. “Oh sorry baby… you wanted it rough, huh?” he sucked your clit harder, then bit on it lightly. You could scream at how much pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck! Oh my god Dan” He started to tease you with another finger meanwhile.

“Think you can take another one?” his words sending vibrations against you and making you forget how to form words. “I know you can, you take me so well. Such a good girl for me” he inserted another finger and started to pump them in and out of you faster. “So fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around me. That’s my favorite place you know? Buried deep inside your cunt” that was it, you came, hard. Arching your back and hips, Daniel releasing your hands to push you down and hold you there while you came and he kept sucking and licking and biting your clit. You couldn’t take anymore, you pushed him away, pulling his hair.

“Can’t-” You tried to say. “Dan”

“Yes, you can. Come here” He said pulling away and lifting you, dragging you out of the bed and into the bathroom, the rest of your clothes and his towel getting lost in the way. He pushed you against the sink, pulling your face up, making you look at yourself on the mirror. He was pressing against you from behind, his cock leaking in between your legs. “I want you to see what I see” he said staring at you through the mirror. “Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever forget how fucking perfect you are” and with that he slammed inside you. “Fucking-” he had one hand on your hair and the other around you, between your folders, massaging your clit. “Fucking heaven, taking me so good”

“Ah Dan” You screamed. He started to fuck you hard and fast, pushing you against the sink. You lifted your head and looked at the mirror, it was the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen. Daniel was dripping sweat, thrusting with perfect precision. His eyes were locked on yours and you knew he was as close as you. The thought of how deep the connection between you were at that moment made you clench again and he lost it, giving you one final thrust and a guttural groan. You came again, shaking more than ever, the feeling too much this time. “I can’t-” You tried to say again. “Too much-” Squeezing him over and over, so he pulled out, still spilling, making a mess over your legs and on the bathroom floor. He was still holding you though.

“I’m right here baby. Right here” He whispered on you ear from behind. You both were riding out your orgasms, rocking slightly, your body leaned on the sink, pressing your boobs against it, and he leaning over you, breathing hard.

After you both calmed down, you tried to move but his weight was too much. You let out a weak laugh and he moved. “Sorry” he said kissing your back. When you got up, you turned to him and kissed him lightly.

“You are-” You said against his lips “amazing”. And kissed him again, lovinly. “Thank you. You make me feel so good, Daniel. Let me take care of you now”

Daniel's POV

This woman is trying to kill me. “Baby I don’t think I have it in me-” “Not like that” she smiled. “I meant with a bath” she said gesturing to the bathtub.

“Yes, please” I said already opening the tap and letting the water run. She went back to the room and returned with a water bottle, taking a sip before passing it to me. I took it from her hand and almost finished it, before giving it back to her.

“Do they have any bubbles? Bath salts?” she asked.

“Hum…I don’t think so, baby” I answered looking around on the sink.

“That’s fine” she smiled, getting in the tub and motioning for me to sit in between her legs. Her hair was up in a knot, but some of it was clinging to her neck due to the sweat. She was so beautiful, I can’t believe she wants me.

“You don’t want me to stay behind you?” she shook her head smiling and I did as she asked, leaning on her. The tap was still running, filling the tub with hot water, while we two of us just soaked in there, relaxing. “This is nice,” I said while she ran her hands through my hair. When the tub was full enough, she turned off the water and applied some body wash on my skin, running her hand over my back and shoulders, it felt so good, so comfortable, like I didn’t have a worry in the world. Then I washed her legs around me, kissing her feet and calves and making her giggle. She kept massaging my shoulders. We stayed there for good while, half an hour? More or less? There’s nothing else in the world other than this bathroom anyway, so who cares?

“Can we stay here forever?” She asked me after a while, kissing behind my neck. I just hummed in response. “Actually, scratch that. I’m getting hungry. And thirsty”

“The limitations of the human body” I said jokingly but got out of the tub after a few minutes. If m’lady wants to eat, I’m getting her food. I dried myself, wrapping a towel around me and holding hers open for her to step out of the tub.

We went back to the room, she picked her clothes from the floor and put them away in her travel bag back inside the closet. I watched as she got a fresh pair of underwear and a clean bra, while I put on boxers and sweatpants. She wore some leggings that hugged her ass perfectly, what a view. I noticed her going through her bag, probably looking for a shirt but I just wanted her to wear some clothing of mine, so I took the hoodie I was going to wear and passed it to her. She smiled and accepted it, it looked oversized on her and covered her ass, but maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t need anyone thirsting over what’s mine, I don’t care how much of a prick that makes me sound.

"Do you wanna order or go out to eat?" I asked her.

"Let's just go downstairs, to the restaurant?"

"Yeah, that's fine" I say and peck her lips.

I put on a sweatshirt, and hold the door open for her. We walk out and the temperature was a bit colder out here in the hallway (or maybe it was just too hot inside the room), so I just take her hand and intertwine our fingers, passing my arms around her and holding her closer. I just love that I can do that whenever I want.

And I plan on doing that for the rest of my life.

[the-lady-writes-what]

The “opinion” in question was quite literally one of you going off on a post that had nothing to do with either of you or your interests. It was a post about an Indian book where the female main character likes to date literal monsters. That’s it. It was a book about a woman who dates monsters. Nothing wrong with that, right. The “opinion” stated by “realasslesbisan”, and I’m paraphrasing, “blah, blah, I hate all men. Blah, blah, I hate penis. Look at me, I hate penises and anything to do with men. I’m such a lesbian. Blah blah.” She commented that on a post completely unprompted. Had she been a normal person and scrolled away, nobody would bother her in the comment section. I will say, violence and death threats are never okay. I sincerely wish that those who typed those things grew up and hold themselves accountable for what they wrote. I am sorry that those were written.

That being said, let’s not pretend realasslesbian was not equally problematic. First, entering a space that was clearly not in your interests and inserting yourself into a conversation where it was not wanted, especially when the comment added nothing to the convo. The commentary was self-centered and detracted the attention away from the post innocent bystanders wanted to enjoy. Second, OP and her friend, realasslesbian, are under the impression that the only people who liked that post, commented on it, or replied to them, were all cis and straight. I’m lesbian and I can pretty much guarantee that this post reached a wide audience in the monster fucker comm, which is anything but straight. It’s rude, presumptuous, and hurtful to assume everyone who disagrees with you is straight. Third, realasslesbian partook In bullying too. Not only did she not take accountability for stepping where she clearly had no interest in holding any civil convo with the other commenters in the post, but she called trans women “men in dresses” and heterosexual people as “breeders”. I’m not one to say that heterosexual is a slur, but referring to straight people as breeders is pretty fucking disgusting, humiliating, and dehumanizing. If you’re really a feminist, you should know better. Fourth, this whole train wreck was merely a show. I think these two enjoy irritating and bullying people on purpose for fun. They then get to use the screen shots of people wishing them death as evidence that they’re the ones being bullied, even though they started it and probably anticipated the inevitable effect their “opinions” have on some people. Complaining that your “opinion” triggered people is really baffling. It’s 2023 and a great deal of people truly don’t care that you’re gay. Being a lesbian is a valid expression and no one is triggered by the fact that you don’t like dick. What people are nettled about is when a stranger enters the chat, says something unprompted and unrelated to the topic at hand, and purposely riles people up to get a reaction out of them. Saying you don’t like men and penises, call trans women men in dresses, and bully other people is not an “opinion.” It’s just being an unapologetic person who will not only take no accountability for their actions or words, but revel in it.

Of course, I don't think realasslesbian actually is brave enough to back up her words. Someone either reported her or she deleted her own comments. They no longer exist. Especially the comment she left to me which she called into question about my sexuality.

What you left out was the invalidating insinuation that i'm not actually a lesbian. She was not dog piled on, she was getting what she asked for, reactions. If I went to an ultra conservative post anywhere on social media and something to set off the right-wing extremists, i should expect people to get rude and reactionary comments.

How dare you make yourself out to be the victim when you stepped into the arena with the "i don't like penises. look at me, i hate penises. pay attention to me!" on a post about a monster-lover book just to get a rise out of people. Nobody lost their mind that you stated that you hate men, they reacted to how rude, transphobic, and how much of bully you were. It had nothing to do with you being a lesbian.

There's no such thing as a "heterosexual supporter." It's just a sexuality. Nobody should force you to be straight, but it's counterproductive and hypocritical of you to demonize heterosexual people. Criticize and rebel against, sure. But you're cannot force people to be gay just because you don't like men. Be the best fucking lesbian, but how you get some empathy and don't assume everyone in that comment section was straight and male. I checked, they were not. You don't get to partner with your friend to claim that everyone was "losing their minds" over your "opinion." nor were they dog piling on you. I am truly sorry about the threats of death and/or violence. Those were absolutely unnecessary. However, what we're NOT going to do is be the Mean Girls of lesbians and gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, and bully other people who just wanted to enjoy some monster-lover content, myself included. You don't often see this kind of content from different parts of the world, but now I have to look at this post with bitter sweetness because you ruined it with your cringey behavior. You don't get to bully, name call, invalidate other people's experience, and act like you discovered lesbianism and kissed goddamn Sappho on the mouth. This is absolutely disgusting behavior, and you're BRAGGING about it. Do you really get your rocks off to bullying people and riling people up who were just trying to have a good time minding their own goddamn business? Girlie, get new hobbies. This is not it

Your shitty blog reeks of whiteness,no doubt you're a white female.you stupid Karens always say the dumbest, whitest shit.you and realasslesbian are mayo queens lmao kill yourself

This will probably come as a shock to you, but many gold star lesbians aren't white. But from the oblivious self-congratulatory stupidity that you sauntered on in here with I'm guessing you're a male. So sorry about that bro, I'd say get better but I don't think they found a cure for the XY chromosome yet lmao

In conclusion why bother coming on anon for this @firealfia I know that XY chromosome makes it hard to string a coherent thought together but you were as clockable in this post as you likely are irl

[geminixevans-stan]

Underroos!!

Characters: Avengers Team & Publicist!Reader

Summary: Come enjoy some weird and funny moments of the life of PR agent for the Avengers

Warnings: None

It was quiet.... Too quiet. The Avengers were having a few problems. By problems, they were a bit divided. You didn’t think anything of it because it wasn’t your place to even ask. Just as long as they didn’t do anything stupid in public or social media, you were good.

The silence was too good to be true as you did your hourly sweep of everyone’s accounts and what you saw caused a panic unlike any other.

Are they… fighting?! WHAT THE HELL!!

Not to mention there was a spider-looking guy holding Steve’s shield. What the hell were these fuckers fighting about?!

Your first act was to call Tony, walking into your office you bellow out, “FRIDAY! Call Tony Stark Now!”

“Calling Mr. Stark,” you wait patiently until you hear heaving breathing and loud banging fill the room.

“A little busy here Mother Theresa, shit! Not cool Clint!,” you hear some whooshing, placing your hands flat on the desk.

You roll your eyes at the sudden commotion not having time for this bullshit, “You wanna tell me why a SPIDER has Steve’s shield and tweeting about it?! Not to make matters worse, you’re cheering him on?!”

Tony snickers a bit, shooting another blast, “Oh yeah that’s Peter, smart kid. Hey, listen! Fix that and I’ll send over his accounts too. Now if you don’t mind, Steve needs his ass kicked. See ya tonight,” the line goes dead and you pinch the bridge of your nose. These fuckers were going to be the death of you.

Hearing the notification ping with all of Peter’s information, you get to work with deleting the tweet, scrubbing Tony and Steve’s accounts of replies. You literally had the CEO of Twitter on speed dial at this point. You gave your usual “strip the photos or get sued” speech and hung up, drafting yet another statement to post on the Avenger’s and Peter’s accounts.

When you signed up for this job, you thought you knew what you were getting yourself into. But with them, you had no idea at all. They were shaping up to be a challenging bunch and you couldn’t even think what else they would do.

In your heavy brooding of making them squeaky clean again, you hear the sound of FRIDAY in your ear, “Call coming from Steve Rogers,” you quickly straighten up hearing at the notification.

“Steve…” You could hear his breathing as if he were running.

“Hi Ma’am! Sorry about earlier. Tony brought a kid and… things got crazy,” hearing a grunt a the sound of a punch being thrown, “Tony! Back off!” These fuckers were still going at it. You threw your head back wanting the strongest drink ever.

In curious fashion, you wanted to know just what the hell they were fighting about. “Steve! Just why are you all fighting again?!” Like didn’t he and Tony settle their differences already?

“Bucky made… a joke,” he sighed, taking a flip and drop-kicking T’challa in the chest.

Fucking Bucky!! He’s been a damn pain to get to act right. You groaned hanging your head down, “What kind of joke?”

“It’s nothing ma’am”

“Steve…” you warned.

“It’s… He asked Tony how much money would it take to kill his parents. Tony said how much…. The answer was one buck. Now we’re here.

You slap your hand to your forehead, clenching your eyes shut, “Goddammit Bucky!!!”

“Language…” he said sternly enough that almost made you squeak a bit. You had a job to still.

Standing up out of your seat, you cut him off before he can say anything else, “Don’t you language me, Steve!! At this point, Bucky needs his ass beat! Let him and Tony spar it out and bring all your asses home after!”

“But ma’am…”

“No! Call it! Because if I see another photo on social media, everyone will have phone privileges taken for a week! Hope to it Cap!”

“Y-yes Ma’am,” you weren’t able to see the flush in his cheeks but you knew that he heard you loud and clear. The line clicked and you slumped in your chair, grabbing the nearest wine bottle out of the cooler, take a wine glass from the left drawer.

Night had come faster than you thought, your eyes scanning every single account for the last time. The rumble of the familiar quinjet had made its landing and you were so not ready for whatever was coming your way.

What you saw was surprising enough as all of the Avengers came in with bright smiles and laughing their asses off.

Okay… maybe they were able to settle things like normal adults.

Looking at all of them walking around to go to their respected rooms, you hear the door open. Swinging your chair around you see a kid, no older than fifteen enter your room. Peter… You straighten up looking at the timid boy, clearly shaking under your glare.

He opened his mouth, his stuttering coming out a little, “H-Hi ma’am! I’m Peter. I just want to say that I’m sorry for earlier. Ya know for the pic. Won’t happen again I promise,” he stammers while clutching on to his mask. The kid was adorable, you’ll give him that.

You take another sip of the newly poured wine in your glass, “Listen kid, you’re new. I’ll give you a pass. Do it again and that phone is mine. Got it?”

He gave a loud whine, “Oh come on! That’s not fa-”

Cutting him off cause you didn’t want to hear it, “Mine. Understood?” you say asking for clarification.

Peter slumps his shoulders, hanging his head, “Yes, ma’am. Won’t happen again. It was nice meeting you! I have to go now or my Aunt May will freak,” he says while dashing out of the door.

Leave it to Tony to bring a kid to a fight…

He also passed by your office, giving a dopey smile before heading up to his room.

“I need a vacation…”

Stay tuned for more PR Chronicles

TagList: @sidepartskinnyjeans

[holy-guacamoly]

Hi! Saw the headcannon thing and wanted to play! I’m okay with both nsfw and sfw.

My favorite character of all time is Levi 💕

Pronouns are she/they

Hobbies are reading, walking along the beach for beach glass, baking (or cooking in general), and riding my bike. (I love exercise, I’d go insane without it. I ride my bike 30 miles on my day off), I’m also learning Japanese in my spare time, also taking naps lol. Oh and I like tea!

Interests are anime (obviously), I like watching other people play videos games, I also love horror movies

My personality:

Quiet

Observant

Antisocial

Introverted

I tend to want to do things myself and not want help even though I’m tiny and struggle to reach or lift things

I’m a bit shy and awkward tbh

Thanks it! Thanks ahead of time lol 💕💕💕

Hi, lovely! Thanks for your request! <3 You ride your bike for 30 miles?! You are such a badass! Also, it's so cool that you are into horror movies! No scratch that, you seem like a cool person in general! ♥ Let's start with the obvious things. You and Levi love tea. That's enough to make this man develop a crush on you. No one ever appreciates the fine art of tea brewing as much as Levi. No one except you. Our captain doesn't even need to tell you how he likes his tea because you just know. It fills his stomach with butterflies. <3 ♥ Hear me out, Levi is actually terrified of horror movies. And he simply won't admit it. I mean this man has seen it all, so why would he be afraid of some fictional ghosts and ghouls? Right? He is constantly fidgeting in his seat, drawing nervous circles on your thigh as you watch some classics. I feel like he covers his ears because the audios make him so nervous. "You okay?" you whisper as you noticed Levi's slightly sweaty hand. "Why would I be, brat? This is just some stupid movie." A soft smile paints your lips as you watch your boyfriend's hectic eye movements. Without another word you get up and turn the TV off. "Hey, what the fuck. You wanted to watch that!" Levi exclaims, but his relief clearly shows. "I don't feel like watching it anymore. I've seen it a 100 times." Levi's gaze softens as he realizes what you are doing. You can see right through him and to his surprise, he doesn't mind one bit. ♥ Your first kiss was on the beach. I know it's cheesy but hear me out. Levi used to be the hook-up-kinda-guy and never developed feelings for anyone. But meeting you, hit this poor man like a truck and he desperately wanted to make things right. But how is this romance thing working? What do you show people that you are actually in love with them? Levi downloaded all kinds of social media to get inspired on how to confess his feelings. Your old man finally came across a TikTok Account (Yes he downloaded TikTok. He's that desperate) that talked about different date ideas. The deserted-beach-one seemed like the best option for your antisocial asses. lol "Is this okay?" Levi asks, nervously placing his hands on your waist. You nod, a slight blush painting your cheeks. "I just wanted this to be perfect. I know I am not exactly a romantic guy, but I heard people like this, so..." Your love is about to ramble about more nonsense but you shut him by crushing your lips onto his. "You talk to much, Ackerman." ♥ The both of you love to just enjoy each other's presence without much talking. It seems like you have a telepathic connection and a certain look is enough to hold a whole conversation. ♥ This stern fucker loves to hold your hands all the time! He always plays with your fingers and gently kisses your knuckles. When the two of you are cuddling Levi loves to bury his face in your hair. Something about your scent makes him all soft. ♥ Levi often lifts you up when you struggle to reach something on higher shelves. He isn't the biggest either but "teamwork makes the dream work" and as you balance on his shoulders, you seem like a normal-sized person lol. ♥ Levi defends you whenever you get shy or awkward. He instantly senses if something makes you uncomfortable and doesn't hesitate to take the lead. Afraid of making a doctor's appointment? Your man's gotcha. Uncomfortable with a big crowd? Levi shields you and pushes everyone away. NSFW ♥ Levi loves when you do Japanese dirty talk. There is just something about how it sounds that makes his spine tingly and his dick hard. ♥ Heichou isn't a man of big words but will get so emotional during sex. Drops a lot of L-Bombs and praises you to the max. Sometimes cries a little and needs a lot of aftercare. ♥ Definitely does this with your hands! He is very scared of losing you and holding you by your pulse, feeling your heartbeat makes him calm. "Promise me that you'll stay with me forever," he whispers, panting as he thrusts deeply into you. Your bodies are entangled in each other as you bathe in pure ecstasy. "Promise me that this will never end." As this plea falls off Levi's tongue he can't help but come undone, painting your walls white. ♥ Levi loves when you ride him, so he can scan every expression that washes over your face. Your pleasure is everything to him and he always makes you finish first.

In conclusion: You turned Captain Levi Ackerman into a softie. He finally has a reason to fight for.

[grittyreadsfic]

hello my friends, one singular person asked for this weeks ago so i’m here with my most unhinged rec list yet: tk and nolan.

now, this one was hard to reign in, so i really didn’t. this pairing had maybe 230 fics in the tag when i first started reading hockey fic, and it’s now over 900, and i’ve read far too many of them, and that makes it so hard to parse it down. so i just...didn't!

so with that said, please enjoy so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers

i told myself that i couldn’t rec an author’s entire body of work but then i remembered this is my blog and i do what i want, so i did some consolidating. here’s a list of the quintessential authors for this pairing, you can start at any of their profiles and pick any of their fics at random, and it’ll be one of the best ones for the pairing, hands down.

therainbowsedge: i’d start with the summer camp fic, or the sex toys one, as both beautifully capture the true idiots to lovers nature of this pairing, but just top tier writing all around

manybumblebees: the wedding fic is so tender and port stanley is a classic, but literally pick any single fic and you’ll have a perfect tknp fic. i’m not kidding

jamesvanriemsdick: their tknp fics in their series are some of the hidden gems of this pairing (the tk heartbeat fic makes me LOSE it) but the delaware fic or the seattle fic…..there’s really something for every mood

catchascatchcan: start with era of gods because i could write literal essays on how it’s some of the best fantasy worldbuilding i’ve ever read, but then just read everything else on their account, including non tknp fics. you won’t regret it

hackysack: ao3 user hackysack has written one of two timeloop fics that i absolutely adore, and i thought about just calling that one out in particular, but all of their work deserves the attention

canary: nothing to prove was the first tknp fic i ever read and i was immediately hooked. all of their fics are a good starting place for the pairing, and just really give you a feeling for the pairing

and now, for the fic recs!

to be, despite it all by smudgedfreckles

summary: or, nolan patrick’s gender thesis, by travis konecny.

why i love it: there’s not a lot ofo nonbinary characters in media, even in fic, but this fic’s treatment of nolan and their path to figuring out their gender just feels so real and made me feel so seen. tk’s characterization is also just top notch, and it’s just a super sweet story about two people who love each other

last ones standing by makeit_takeit

summary: If you’re committed to finding your future spouse, reads the last line of the ad, and are ready to look at yourself and your love life in a whole new way, apply now.

At the bottom of the ad there’s a link, and Travis finds his finger hovering over the screen, lip still caught between his teeth.

“I mean,” he says very reasonably, speaking out loud to his empty apartment like some sort of possibly-crazy person, “just applying doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just fill it out, and see what happens. It’s not like I’m really gonna get picked to be on TV, come on.”

He snorts out loud, just to show his apartment he hasn’t lost his grip on reality or anything; he fully understands how ludicrous that would be.

Then he clicks the link anyway, because yolo or whatever.

why i love it: what part of a married at first sight fic doesn’t make you want to immediately dive right in? the concept is fun, the execution is absolutely flawless, and it captures their dynamic so well while letting it develop naturally

motivation by connectknee

summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.

why i love it: the thing i love about this pairing is that tk is loud and in your face, and nolan’s more reserved, a little quieter, a little harder to read. this fic does a really great job of exploring how tk could feel like maybe he’s just a bit too much and is one of my favorites in terms of miscommunication

a tenderness grows by rusesdeguerre

summary: Nolan wouldn’t say that landing a job as the Philadelphia Flyers’ psychotic and probably clinically insane mascot was a childhood dream of his. Maybe tangentially: playing pond hockey in –30°C weather and pretending to be Sidney Crosby is practically a rite of passage when you grow up in Manitoba. That, and experiencing the distinct displeasure that is thousands of mosquitoes sucking your blood out when your father drags you on a father-son camping trip into the backwoods of the northern Canadian Prairies.

why i love it: this was the first fic i recced on this blog, and i stand by that decision. a fic where nolan is not only not a hockey player, but is in fact the person in the gritty suit? absolutely perfect, and so charming from start to finish

meet me at my window by springsteen

summary: Travis has lived in Philadelphia for a few years now, long enough to know there isn’t a major city in America where superheroes don’t destroy an entire city block trying to save humanity or whatever. He can deal with all the super-shit, but Travis did not sign up for getting woken up from a deep sleep because some fucker’s trying to break in through his window.

(5 times the super-villain known as "The Cat" breaks into Travis's apartment, plus 1 time Travis invites him in.)

why i love it: there’s a lot of things to love here, but the concept is just absolutely one of my all time favorite aus ever. it’s fun and charming and the perfect glimpse into a world where heroes and villains exist, and what it’s like just to be a run of the mill kind of guy existing in it. tk and nolan’s back and forth in this make it so engaging, and it’s such a top tier fic

body’s in trouble by cloudsandpassingevents

summary: “Oh, sorry,” someone says. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”

Nolan freezes, then turns around very slowly. When he looks up, Nicklas fucking Backstrom is standing behind him in a hoodie and baggy sweats, holding the biggest bag of Swedish Fish Nolan’s ever seen in his life in one hand.

“Uh,” Nolan says around the pop tart between his teeth. “Yeah.”

What the fuck, his brain helpfully supplies.

why i love it: from nolan’s inner voice, to the way the author explores all the dynamics within the team, to the way they write the unexpected but actually, it kind of makes sense friendship between nolan and backstrom, is just absolutely fantastic. there’s a lot of moments that circle back and build on each other in a way that really just makes it super compelling

rhizomatic foundations by lighthousetowers

summary: Twenty days after he moves in with Kevin Hayes, twenty days – three months, five months, depending on how you look at it – after not talking to TK, TK shows up at the front door with a plant the size of a basketball in his hands.

TK grins. "Patty, meet Reginald." He lifts up the plant. "Reggie, meet Patty. He's going to be your new - caretaker."

"What the fuck," says Nolan, not moving a single muscle.

Or: That Nolan can hear the plant talk might as well just happen.

why i love it: this is probably my favorite magical realism fic just about ever. it’s fun and charming and a little weird, but in the best possible way. there’s such a wonderful narrative in it, and lighthousetowers always has such beautiful writing, and it really shines in this one. the dialogue and nolan’s characterization are also part of what set it apart for me as one of the best tknp fics

in the dark of any town by mengetpegged

summary: If the voice has an accent at all, it’s a flat prairie Canadian, with none of G’s French-Canadian softness at the edges. But mostly, the accent is just ‘pissed off,’ which TK believes is a default setting for ghosts.

“Who are you?” TK asks, and he doesn’t like how strained his voice sounds, doesn’t like the tinge of anxiety tinting the rise of his question. He tries to regulate his breaths—in through his nose, hold, out through his mouth—but it feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen, which makes him panic even more.

“Someone with a fucking migraine, dickhead,” the voice says. “So keep the lights off and shut the hell up.”

(or: Nolan Patrick, Hotel X Ghost)

why i love it: i’m usually not super into ghost fics, both the spooky kind and the nonspooky kind, but this one is a rare exception. it’s charming and fun and tender and it’s got some of, in my opinion, the best characterization of tk and nolan in any fic. the way the author writes their dynamic and their dialogue is just unmatched

lets_make_this_moment_a_crime.mp3 by honeydripping

summary: Travis meets Nolan at a Midtown show in 2002 when he punches Nolan in the face. He can’t help it, “Like A Movie” just goes off.

But he does feel guilty about it.

or

TK and Patty work at a bakery together. They go to punk shows to pass the time.

why i love it: idk if anyone asked for an early 2000s emo/punk/alt au but wow! i sure am glad it exists! really the vibes of this fic, as silly as that sounds, are absolutely unmatched. i love the structure with the music, the development of their relationship, and just everything about how the author wrote the setting (there’s this whole thing with tattoos in it that makes me feel absolutely insane)

you’re ripped at every edge by you’re a masterpiece by conformityissuicide

summary: “Ugh, look, this yoga teacher has it out for me, man. And I can’t go back there without at least having some of the basics down. I’ve got to win this battle.”

“Yoga isn’t really something you win at,” Hartsy starts.

Travis cuts him off, “You can win at anything if you try hard enough.”

+++

OR that time Nolan's a grumpy yoga teacher and Travis realizes he wants to bone him and prove him wrong about Travis' non-existent yoga abilities.

why i love it: listen, if you want tknp, at least one of them has to be an idiot, and this tk absolutely captures the obliviousness i love to see in him in fic. it’s such a great characterization of them both and such a great concept (and even better execution)

you form a terror pack (and i’m aware of that) by dalmatienne

summary: “Can I help you?” TK snarks, both eyebrows hiked up in a way that has earned her many elbow checks to the ribs.

The chick looks down her nose, long thick eyelashes fluttering. Red-bitten lips part to blow a florid pink bubble and TK can smell the chemical sweetness when it pops.

“Yeah,” she says in this monotonous voice that seems almost at odds with her bubble gum and neon skates. She jams her stopper into TK’s thigh again, literally inches away from where it’d really hurt. “Tie ‘em.”

why i love it: to be honest, i generally don’t read rule 63 within hrpf, but this one is just absolutely knocks it out of the park. the concept (i fuckin’ love roller derby), the characterization of nolan, the pacing, the rituals, the tone of the entire fic, it’s just all around a perfect read from start to finish

thrills and grills by bitter_leaf

summary: Travis can’t even begin to wonder what he did in a previous life to incur the wrath of this fucking cook. Travis thinks he’s a nice person, doesn’t conduct himself in any way that could be considered particularly dickish, and unless this guy has some sort of issue with hockey bros or people from the boonies, he’s not sure how he started shit without even knowing.

__

Patty has a vendetta. Travis just wants to eat his eggs in peace.

why i love it: honestly this is the enemies to lovers fic i’ve been waiting for. i remember seeing the reddit post when it first went viral and thinking it would make such a great fic premise, so stumbling across this one was just so wonderful. super engaging and fun and so hilarious to read!

nothing but room for you by fightingfuries

summary: When his agent tells him he’s going to be traded to the Devils, Nolan isn't sure how he feels about it. Might be easier if he was going somewhere farther away, like California or fucking Florida. Somewhere sun-soaked and foreign. Someplace so different from Philadelphia that he can forget he ever played for the Flyers, forget everything that happened there.

Or Nolan fucks up, gets traded, gets his shit together and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

why i love it: i cannot stress to you how much i love trade fics, and this one is one of my absolute favorites. the trade to the devils-so close to philly, still, but there’s more to distance than physical miles-was such an excellent choice and the split timeline adds so much to the narrative, and the emotions are real and messy and complicated in the best way

a couple of runaways (i’m glad you stayed) by overturnedgoal

summary: The person in the video he’s watching is super annoying. Some obnoxious holier than thou granola type who keeps talking about their environmental impact as if they aren’t driving a gas guzzler around, but the basic idea of living in a van, driving around wherever, camping all the time, just going hiking and swimming and seeing the whole country? It sounds pretty dope, honestly.

why i love it: i like to watch tours and conversions of vans/buses into tiny homes as a self soothing method, and this fic has the same impact that watching those do. it’s such a fun concept, and it’s so fuckin’ soft, and the dialouge between tk and nolan is just *chef’s kiss*

all candor and style in the crook of your smile by p3trichor

summary: It’s a photo of Nolan on his knees with someones’ fingers in his mouth, lips slick with spit. Travis flicks by it almost too fast and he’s only got seconds to decide if he wants to screenshot it, if he wants to just give up the ghost right then and there. Except Travis’s phone freezes momentarily and then the group refreshes, sidcros87, Bert59 and 14 others took a screenshot!

It’s gone before Travis even has time to process it and he already wasted his replay of the day on a stupid video of a stupid fish that Hayes caught.

Can you send me that screenshot Travis texts Bertuzzi before he can overthink it, his dick already stirring in his sweats. Tuzzi sends back the cry-laughing emoji and then the screenshot before Travis can be too annoyed at him.

Or, Nolan is being weird about Travis's break-up and TK is maybe not straight.

why i love it: i genuinely don’t think i have words for the amount i love this fic. it took me forever to actually read, but it’s absolutely one of my favorite fics, and it’s an absolutely riot to read. carter’s meddling and the presence of tyler bertuzzi both make it extra fun, in my humble opinion

[deathbyotpin123]

I'm tired

I probably shouldn't be writing this. Idk, I need to rant into the void or some shit. Past 5 years, have been utter shit. And every time I feel like "this is the moment I get to slow down and relax" another shitty thing happens and I'm back in the survival mode.

(There's like... a lot of swearing below the cut. I'm sorry. I'm tired.)

I honestly thought, after getting diagnosed with the thyroid issues recently, and after all I went through in the past 5 years, that maybe I can rest now and just draw my comic in peace. Go to work. Get my shitty paycheck from my asshole boss... But no.

My boss has to go and start this whole talk about how he might transfer us to be freelancers. Then two days later, he starts this talk how he might pay us by some kind of provision. Then in the end goes "well actually, you know we're not gonna do any of that, I'm just going to start holding people accountable for their work quality and following deadlines". Which? My dude, bravo, took you years to figure out it's how every god damn fucking company is supposed to work. But whatever. The thing is, now I'm worried sick I might need to find another job. I'm not mentally equipped for another job. I don't want another job. But the asshole owes me 2 paychecks. 2 fucking paychecks. And I did my job on time. I completed all of my tasks. He owes only 1 paycheck to the other fuckers who got us into this mess. Fuck you very much, you fucking asshole.

I don't want a new job where I gotta go and be all smiles and fun times. I just want peace. I want to draw shit and get paid for that. Only I don't know how to even try to reach people to sell my art to. Social media is turning into a steaming pile of shit where I guess I bored my followers to death. I get barely any comments. I get barely any prompts. Like, I'm standing there on IG, waiving free art at people and not one person wants it. Am I to expect they would pay for it?

I'm tired of trying to promote my comic. I was hoping to stop trying to promote shit and just relax for a month. But thanks to my fucking boss, that's not a fucking option. No, I gotta go to Tapas forum with 3794234798 fucking topics that are all "just updated? post here!" or "sub 4 sub". Fuck your sub for sub. How the fuck is a sub 4 sub supposed to help me when you're not gonna fucking read it?

How?

(And I'm not even gonna go into the whole thing of how fucking tired I am that I can't draw NSFW stuff anywhere. God forbid we show a boob or a bare ass online...)

I am barely hanging on at this point.

I don't know how the fuck I haven't lost my mind completely. Like, hey, at least the therapy for the thyroid is keeping the panic attacks away for now, I guess.

But honestly?

I want to burn everything. Close all social media accounts. And just... disappear. Just fucking disappear from all of that draining, mother fucking bullshit. Because people no longer know how to interact with each other. Because I get fucking memes from my best friend. The bitch is taking 20 pills for her health every day and I didn't even know that because all she does is send me memes.

That's what 19 fucking years of friendship has come down to. Every 3 days we send each other a meme. Twice a year we might hang out. Ooooh.

Other friends? "I don't know her." One moved away. Another constantly works. Third one got a kid. Forth one pulls out a planner when you ask him to meet with us... A planner. Sir, you don't even have a job.

I saw a person from a different fucking continent more times last year, during fucking COVID, than I saw my friends.

What is my life even anymore at this point?