#i dont know if it counts sorry

[creativeusernameheresstuff]

God I love Silver so much,,

Also sorry about if the Diasomnia uniform is wrong i was guessing on a lot of it

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[umblrspectrum]

i think the idea of v finding uzis last name hilarious is a really funny one

[m1d-45]

bloodletting

summary: a budding god needs a place to test their new powers, and childe was always a little too eager to lose a fight... a match made in heaven!

word count: 1.7k

-> warnings : minor AQ spoilers ? just like, general gi plot.. fairly graphic depiction of blood + other injuries (might be classed as body horror???). generally obsessive tendencies (childe <--> you). i cannot stress this enough, reader is 110% a sadist.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

power was not something that came easy. it was fought over, stolen, defended with teeth and claw, tides of blood shed just so one could have power over another. social, physical, financial; no matter the leverage it provided, power was hard won. to give someone power was to admit defeat, a certain death that tartaglia had learned and taught more than his fair share of times. nobody undeserving of power ever held onto it for long; it was an acknowledgement that you were better, that you deserved it, that you’d won. power was a fickle resource that childe would kill to keep, only ever laying down his blade for a precious few.

the tsaritsa, of course. his fellow harbingers, skilled both on and off-field, who themselves could rival the archons. his family, for whom he’d happily give the world.

and naturally, who would be more worthy to hold power than you?

you, not just a god but the, the highest authority across all of teyvat. you bore a hundred names and a thousand monikers, your worship the one thing the world could agree on. granted, nobody could quite agree on how, but that was fine. childe did not need external powers to tell him what to do. he knew, in his deepest heart, that he had gotten it right.

he knew—and, on occasion, flaunted—that he was your favorite. of all the vessels you had chosen, you returned to him time and time again, wishing on his stars until his vision gleamed. his bow shone with power, even his weakest weapon more than enough to push his strength to new heights. part of him wondered what he could do if you’d granted him swords, or a claymore… but that was speculation for another time. didn’t it say something that you had still chosen him at his weakest?

the thought always made him smile. thick in the heat of puppeteered battle, before the sun to after dark, your presence was a constant in his life. at every altar, with every offering, when his hands stung from the rash of leather and his blade was covered in rust, your name a prayer behind blood-soaked teeth. he could not remember a time when his pocket was not weighted with a charm.

his devotion was no secret. he wore your bow with pride, entirely phasing out his other weapons. it didn’t matter that he was technically more controlled with them, for you had chosen this path for him. your word was his guide, a polar star through bitter nights.

he did not doubt when your presence ebbed or flowed. who was he to dictate when or where you spent your attention? no, his faith did not waver. it had no reason to. he waited patiently, going about his regular duties, lingering in snezhnaya for no other reason that he just felt like he had to.

who was he to question to buzzing in the back of his head? who was he to decline when he felt an instinct to leave, to go for a trip far past the city gates? who was he to think himself better than the guiding light that had never led him astray?

for you, he was whatever you needed. and so he went, armed with a thick coat and snowboots, hands shoved deep in the pockets to hide the slight shake. down the main road, an arbitrary turn into an alley and down an abandoned path, into a part of the city he’d never traveled. but a golden thread had tied itself around his heart, pulling without hesitation. he easily hopped over the fence gate, not bothering with hauling it open through the snow. the path beyond was covered in a thick layer of powder, his foot crunching through a foot of it before hitting solid ground. still, he continued.

snezhnayan winters were not warm. they bit and dug into every gap in your clothes, stealing away the precious warmth within. and yet, with his half-done coat and incomplete guard, he was not cold. or, rather, he couldn’t feel it. his hands were pink with frost, stiff at the knuckles, but he couldn’t feel the resistance. his body was not important, not now.

the snow began to thin. it fell from his knees to his shins to his ankles to his toes, until he was face to face with a thick wall of bramble, impossibly overgrown. he was beginning to overheat in his jacket. twin blades made quick work of the wall, and the sight behind it easily dispelled any breath left in his lungs.

the air that washed out of the bubble was thick and heavy, like a humid spring instead of snezhnayan woods. his breath came in short gasps, a shameful wheeze that he hoped was missed beneath the howling snow. he didn’t want you to see him as weak, as someone so easily tired by a short trip to a falling star; he didn’t want you to think of him as anything other than his best.

but you didn’t push him away. you helped him up—his head was buzzing with delusion, he could hardly see, when had he fallen to his knees?—and brushed the snow off his hair, not pushing him away when he leaned into your touch. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could barely collect himself enough to recognize that he needed to get you inside, away from the wilds.

that was power. to so effortlessly take over every thought in his head, to hold his mind in your hands and pull it into your liking, that was the power he adored you for. gods were figureheads of power, a physical incarnation of their dominion. a god of the entire world would only naturally have power to manipulate that world to their liking. how blessed was he, that he could be the first you made yours.

he was with you when you first stepped into zapolyarny palace, looking around at the chandeliers and fine tile. he opened the door for you to her majesty’s throne room, sucking in a sharp breath as you brushed by. he was by your side when the tsaritsa swore you her fealty, delicately placing the gnoses in your hands.

and oh, how he’d fallen to the floor right then and there, dizzy from the wash of power that rolled off you in waves, an ocean that he willingly dove into. the floor was cool beneath his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin as sweat quickly began to bead. he didn’t bother pushing himself up on his hands, teeth sinking deep into his lip again to control his panting breath. copper bloomed over his tongue, filling his mouth and clogging what remained of his senses.

dimly, he was aware that he was being pathetic, that this would surely change your mind about him. he heard your voice, faint through the fog of his mind, your wisdom lost to his own inadequacy. and yet, despite his weakness, every part of him was tuned into you. he knew it was your hand whispering across his shoulders, he knew it was your influence that stole the breath from his lungs. he knew it was you, because it was always you. you were all he could think of, and now you were finally able to leverage your full power over his self.

he’d woken up in a hospital bed. saline dripped into his arm and the lights pierced his eyes, his head full of snow and iced over. and yet, the moment he was cleared for release, he found himself desperate to be back to your side, racing through the tiled halls of the palace and following the urgent burn in his chest. you would have been right to turn him away, to deem him too weak to stay by your side, but you didn’t. you smiled when he lost his breath and laughed when he wavered, brushing off his concern. you invited him with you—his lungs burned with the need for oxygen—as you twirled the gnoses between your fingers, as if they were toys or paperweights rather than objects of divine power.

divine to him. child’s play to you. a courtyard of snow was cleared in an instant, ripples of pyro melting permafrost while keeping the flora beneath intact, a lazy show of power that pulled little more than a slight hum from you in response.

he wasn’t so much a fool as to think he could teach you everything, or even something, about being divine. and yet he clung to your side like a sailor in a storm, watching as you grew familiar with the elements. he watched, stubborn and weak, as you stopped hesitating.

flowers bloomed as you walked by, crumbling to ash with the slightest look. electro jumped from your skin to his, a painful spark that drew his mind from his head, finally seeing your amused eyes instead of just mindlessly staring. you could—should—have just left him behind, but you didn’t. you instead asked for his help, taking his hand in yours and leading him to a quieter hallway of the palace. you didn’t comment on his thundering pulse despite the fact that you could certainly feel it, tracing a finger along the crease of his palm.

“i wonder…”

a claw of geo cut across his skin, a sharp sting that quickly welled with blood. he barely felt it, watching with detached awe as it filled up his hand, sliding over the edge and dripping to the floor. you didn’t show any emotion, just… watching. his heart beat in his hands, a pool collecting on the floor, and still, you just watched. your other hand moved over the surface, barely an inch away, the blood collecting in a bubble beneath it. with a hum, your fist tightened, pain lighting up his arm. a strained grunt slipped between his teeth, hand flinching closed, brushing against the ball of his blood you had pulled from his veins. his hand was stained red, shaking in your grasp, minutes stretched into hours.

all at once, it dropped, forced back into his body as forcefully as it was removed. with a snap, the skin stitched itself shut, and you were again dragging him along like a child did their favorite toy.

you did that a lot. pull him aside and experiment with whatever new reaction you had discovered that month, week, day, hour, watching his reactions with unabashed delight. and he let you. every time, without fail, he eagerly followed, knowing full well he’d end up rigid with lightning or with ice crystals studding his throat. it was worth it, though. you always fixed him up, squeezing his hand with a whispered ‘good job’ that never failed to make him dizzy.

it didn’t matter what you did to him. it never did. even when his mind was hazy with pain and he couldn’t quite stand on his own, he never regretted it. unconsciousness licked at the edges of his vision, burning black stains that lingered even after you stopped, but he never once hesitated.

if you asked him to jump, he’d ask how high. if you felt like holding him underwater, he’d cherish every bruise. to be kept as a toy was still to be kept.

[sticks-stones-sonic-insanity]

Expression practice

Below is some process yapping! And some explanation!

Having this next to a completely normal sketch felt insane but sometimes u hone in on smth so hard you forget what else is on the page lol.

While I was trying to get a feel for how to draw this expression I was thinking about what actually would bring Sonic to this point and make him this upset. I did a whole analysis of his character in my head and came up with this idea of Sonic, someone often capable and relied on in tense situations(such as the 3rd act of xyz Sonic Game), being forced to take the observer role as someone else takes the sacrifice role for him.

That someone in this case, being Tails.

I was looking at some Frontiers stuff today - cinematically edited playthroughs by AltheBoi to be specific-, and seeing their dialogue in Frontiers reminded me again of how badly I want Tails to get his own chance to save the day alone for once, and what would that look like.

But also.. how would Sonic react?

It's a show of Tails' growth as a character in bravery and skill being able to take on something as challenging and dangerous as Sonic usually would, but is also a painful role-reversal in which Sonic has to watch his brother face impossible odds alone and cannot step in to save him, only able to hope that he will make it back to him alive by the end of the fight.

Sonic has faced off against terrifying enemies and impossible odds in the past, but I think that what would break him harder than any Super Sonic boss fight would be having to see his younger brother take that burden on instead.

[b1mbodoll]

gabi ‘m having thoughts about fairy!leehan. idk much abt fairy traps n things in the forest, jus’ that leehan would do whatever it takes to lure u into his realm so he can keep u forever and ever :( gets obsessed the moment he sees you out on a walk, twitches in his pants when you stray too close to his realm, dribbles pre all over his closed fist when you see the berries he enchanted just for you! he thinks you’re so naive :( anything could happen to you on these little strolls you take, you should be thanking him for always watching over you, protecting you. ur curiosity gets the better of you after passing his berry bush one too many times and u try one after an extensive google search to identity them. leehan grips his base to stop himself cumming seeing that juice staining your lips :( when the berries make you fall asleep, bind you to his realm and make you alllllll his, he carries you home. slicks his fingers up with honey and plays with every hole he can find, hooking his fingers behind the gummy insides of your cheeks, pinching and playing with your soft folds ‘til they slick up with something so sweet he wants to bottle it. gropes painfully hard to satisfy himself with the marks his rough touch leaves, abuses your skin with dark, blotchy bruises and drools all over you. jus’ imagine waking up covered in his spit and cum, all marked up by him :(( it’s all over your cheeks and eyelids, pooling in your belly button and every little divot in your pliant body leehan could find :( your nipples are so sore from his sharp teeth and he’s slobbering over your sensitive clit with his fingers curling experimentally in both holes :((( i don’t even know WHERE this idea came from but it’s haunting me it’s so hot and messy thinking abt being his little pet, having no choice but to let him experiment with your body while you sniffle and blubber about being stuck on his realm! jus’ imagine begging him to tell you how to leave and he looks up at you from between your thighs wide eyed n’ tells you maybe he’ll think about letting you go if you let him stick his cock into ur soft slick mouth and swallow his cum like a good little pet :(

pairings: leehan x f! reader

warnings: fairy! leehan + foodplay (the berry thing got me) + fingering + oral + squirting + somnophilia + monsterfucking (just in case)

💌: i think i’m going to pass out.. this is so delicious ‘m drooling

leehan’s cock throbs as he eyes the berry juice dribbling from your lips and down your chin, it stains your skin and the way your tongue darts out to lick the spillage makes him groan, his wings fluttering slightly behind him as lust clouds his mind.

it isn’t long before the enchantment takes its toll on your body; you grow sleepier, passing out soon after eating a handful of them and that’s when he makes his way over, admiring your beauty before taking advantage of the situation. he strips you of your clothing and it takes everything in him not to fuck into you immediately, it’s almost as if your wet cunt has him in a trance but he snaps out of it, wanting to use your body to play out his fantasies.

leehan kisses and licks your lips, moaning when the taste of sweet berries fills his mouth. he trails his tongue over your throat, stopping to suck hickeys onto the soft skin and he preens at the marks left behind, claiming you in his own way.

he kisses down your body, taking his time when he reaches your breasts, one of your nipples in his mouth as his fingers twist and pull the other, even palming your tit when he gets overwhelmed at the feeling. he’s never had the opportunity to touch a human like this and he’ll be damned if he doesnt explore every inch of your body.

the fairy grabs one of the fruits and bites into it, allowing for its juices to drip onto your pussy; drool slips from his mouth as well, a mixture of juice and spit making a mess of your hole.

he presses the berry against your folds, pushing and dragging it to spread the sweetness over your pretty cunt, eager to find out how you’d taste. lithe fingers make their way into your empty hole, coated in the wetness and leehan curls them inside of you, manipulating your body however he pleases.

the feeling of your walls clamping down on the digits is enough to drive leehan crazy, pulling them out and bringing them up to his mouth, cleaning his fingers of your arousal and you taste better than he could’ve ever imagined, swiping his tongue from knuckle to fingertip, savoring the flavor.

he grunts in annoyance when his fingers are free of the remnants, spreading your hole before eating you out; his nose bumps your clit as he pushes his face deeper between your thighs, tongue delving between your folds and slurping audibly to collect every bit of your mixed juices as he can.

despite being unconscious, your body reacts on its own; the pleasure causing you to subconsciously tighten your thighs and clench around his tongue. you whine softly as moans escape leehan and the vibrations are felt on your clit, sleepily tossing and turning the closer you get to your orgasm.

leehan thinks there’s absolutely no way he could ever set you free; not after tasting your cunt mixed with the berry. the taste on his fingers is nothing compared to the one straight from the source and his eagerness to make you cum sends you tumbling over the edge, your release painting his pretty face when you squirt for him.

hm, seems like you’d the perfect human pet after all.

[volivolition]

DAY 4: DRAMA - Put on your prettiest face for the masses!

gonna start adding silly captions actually. [POINTS ACCUSINGLY] MELTY FUCK (AFFECTIONATE)!!

[spinostarz]

THE WELL AND THE LIGHTHOUSE PMV/ANIMATIC

very very jean valjean centric because i love him and he deserves the world <3 im not sure if pmv or animatic would apply better to this, but either way, i hope you enjoy it!

[ganondoodle]

i guess in that sense totk really delivered on the botw2 thing

if you see botw2 not as in "direct sequel that builds on the previous one" but as in "this game again but different" (and worse) that is

so much is repeated, or replaced with things functionally the same or worse but with a paintjob, sometimes even just the same thing again (like the luminouas stones and sonanium (zonaite) and the special horses) often times essentially the same thing but worse or without any background or even both (i didnt even like revali, but man having his efforts to create the updraft cheapend by tulin, a waht, 10 year old? doing the same just vertical without even havign to try bc hes jsut that talented tm- not only worse as in its less useful and often annoying with the bad control scheme, but also has basically no background, no struggle, and makes revalis seem kinda stupid)

and in the end, instead of uplifting each other, the games cheapen each other, its not interesting anymore, nothing means anything and there was no intention behind it, any mystery that was intriguing in botw has ceased to have meaning, its either nothing or answered with 'the sonau (zonai) did it actually' which is not jsut boring, but frustrating, and .. sad ... i dont think it will ever not make me sad.

[tsukasalover]

wxs song wishlist!1!1! dont take this too seriously

(i may elaborate on these in the future though. who knows. )

slowmotion - fullgroup. maybe js emunene though idk

ultimate senpai - tsukasa (+ could add emu and miku Im not fully sure about miku but. Please this song means everything to me We need even more pinop songs in game. because i said so)

dream eating monochrome baku - ruikasa. add on 3dmv (Or 2dmv thats fine) and MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!

jitterbug - ruikasa (this might be much less likely. i dont expect them to cover it)

popipo - full group. A 3dmv would be quite beautiful. I can already imagine the look on ruis face

chubyou gekihatsu boy - ruikasa (a 2dmv for this would be funny. i want to see tsukasa do one of the weird ass poses)

positive club vs negative club - nenekasa

ohedo julia night - emurui

this fucked up wonderful world exists for me - i can handle another full group if they cover this 🫡

iya iya iya - emurui ? i wouldnt mind full group or len & rin being in the cover too but i just Really want wxs to cover it. 

nee nee nee - ruinene (still thinking abt this one. id be fine with vs only if it gets added but idk)

death shall not have taken thee - emukasa

isnt it “a” - nenekasa (im reaching and desperate)

role-playing game - FULL GROUP PLEASE!!!! IVE WANTED THIS AND ULTIMATE SENPAI IN GAME FOREVER Im desperate…….

apple dot com - emurui 

baka tsuushin - ruinene

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 34 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

I'm running out of GIFs ahhhhhh!!

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls anyone else please let me know.

We sat in the bar drinking and laughing. All of the nurses were giggling and gossiping over their drinks. 

When we had arrived the rest of the nurses were already waiting for us. They had saved a cute booth in the back for us to all squish into. There were so many of us girls that we practically sat on top of each other, but no one seemed to mind.

I listened to all of their stories, hanging off every word, I missed talking to women. I forgot how much more in depth their tales were, we always got every piece of information we could about the topic, even if it didn’t have anything to do with the plot. Men only had the basics they could tell a story from start to finish, but they didn’t have the fine details. 

The bar was crowded with other army personnel and members of the public. The record playing behind the bar was hard to hear over all the noise. We all had to lean in close, raising our voices to be heard over all the commotion. 

Being a group of women, we were attracting attention. Men would come and go from the table, trying to sidle up to the girl who took their fancy, but there was never enough room for them to squeeze into the booth. So they took to pulling up chairs at the end of the table, basically trapping us in. 

Unfortunately for me our group had been the last one to arrive, so I was stuck on the outer edge of the booth. 

It was fine, I had mastered ignoring them and most of them wanted to talk to the other nurses, which I was thankful for. 

I was almost sitting on top of poor Alice, who was the youngest nurse in the group. Her sweet round face and big doe eyes took in the world with wonder. She had told me this was her first time in a bar and that she had never drunk alcohol before. I watched in amusement as she took her first sips of a wine we had ordered her. 

“Oh god!” She coughed, puckering her face with the sour drink. “It burns.”       

We all giggled, as she blushed shyly.

“To Alice’s first sip!” I cheered, raising my glass, the rest of the nurses laughed and raised their glasses as we all clinked them together.   

“How are you finding it?” I bumped her with my shoulder. 

“The drink?” She asked, making a grimacing face. I laughed loudly at her naivety. 

“No, I can tell by your face the opinion you have about the drink. I meant the pub. Are you liking it?”  

“Yes, it’s very fun!” She replied in a chipper manner. 

“A bit later we should dance.” I suggested, I watched her face light up as she nodded. 

“I love dancing!” She sighed dreamily. 

“Do you love dancing? Or dancing with someone in particular?” I questioned. 

The blonde’s face blushed a deep shade of red as she dipped her head down. 

“Could you tell?”

I laughed again. Alice was so sweet my teeth hurt. 

“Yes, your big love heart eyes gave you away.” I teased. 

“He said he would come tonight, but I haven’t seen him.” I watched her crane her neck over the crowd trying to spot him, but her lip caught between her teeth. 

“I’m sure he’ll come.” I tried to reassure her. 

I spoke to Alice most of the night, it was more difficult to speak to the rest of the girls due to the noise.  

“When did you start working?” I asked, thinking she looked so young. 

“A couple months ago, they were needing more nurses since they were so short, they said they would take anyone. So I applied.” I nodded my head listening to Alice speak. 

“You’re very brave.” I told her, as she sent me a soft grin. 

“No, you’re more brave than I. You work on the front, don’t you?” Alice asked, tilting her head. 

“I did, not anymore. But I do have to tell you the scariest thing was how bad those men smelt.” I grinned as she threw her head back in fits of laughter. 

“What’s happening?” I asked as the rest of the nurses made their way out of the booth. 

“They cleared the dance floor!” Ruth cheered. “Come on!” 

I smiled at Alice and we jumped up from our seats. We followed the rest of the group onto the floor. The men had been quick to action, swooping in and stealing all the nurses away to dance with them. 

“Care to dance.” I extended my hand to Alice, putting on a masculine voice. 

“Why of course, Sir.” She curtseyed while giggling at my silly antics. 

Alice and I danced around the room in hysterics, we ignored the odd glances sent our way from the other patrons who were watching from the outskirts of the floor. 

After a while a man tapped my shoulder and asked to cut in. I looked over to Alice as her eyes became large and blush rose to her cheeks. From the way she bit her lower lip nervously, I could tell it was the person she had spoken about earlier. 

“You be good to her.” I warned, but still handed her over to the tall man.    

I watched like a proud mother, as Alice and her guy swayed together. I enjoyed watching all of the nurses dancing with their men. Their knowledge of the different types of dances amazed me. With each new song they knew the exact dance that went with the tune. After a while of watching I made my way back to the booth, waiting for the girls to finally come back to the table.

“Hey, I know you! You’re Easy company’s medic.” I startled as the random man slumped down into the space next to me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to discreetly scoot away but he had cornered me right into the back wall. 

“I am one of them.” I said hesitantly. The man smelt of booze and slurred as he talked. Each time he spoke he lent agonisingly close, his hot breath wafting over my face.     

“You must be tired.” The drunk man sent me a greasy smile. 

“No, I have other medics who help me.” I informed the man, confused by his comment. I furrowed my brow trying to peek over his shoulder to see I could rally some assistance, or at least distraction. 

“No,” He chuckled, “from being passed around.”

I stilled, turning my head slowly to see if I heard him correctly. He looked at me smugly, my stomach twisted. 

“Excuse me?” My lip curled into a snarl, but the man was too drunk to notice.

“Won’t you let me have a turn?” He smiled at me, his hands wandered down the inside of my thighs. I gripped his wrists, trying to keep him from exploring any further.   

“Fuck off!” I snapped, trying my best to escape the corner he had me tucked into. His back was facing toward the crowd, his whole body was covering mine. I’m sure I couldn’t even be seen from the position we were in. 

“Aw, that's no way for a lady to talk. Come on, everyone else has had a ride.” The man licked his lips, I almost gagged. It was a split second decision, my head clouded by the wines I had drunk, I raised my hand. I knew it was a bad idea but my hand was already wound up behind my head. 

I slapped him across his face, sending him cowering back. 

“I said, fuck off!” I asserted, but my tone didn’t match my actions. My voice shook slightly as I came to terms with what I had done.

He looked at me in disbelief, clutching the cheek I just struck. My handprint left a red welt on his face. 

I knew from the rage that spread across his features, I had fucked up. 

I tried to scramble out the other side of the booth, but the only way to move was to scoot around the bend and then down the length of the rest of the bench. 

Not even two scoots along, he had caught up to me. His arms longer than mine reached my limbs and dragged me back. 

Pinning me to the back corner by my throat, the drunk man loomed over me. His nostrils flared as he glared down at me in disgust. 

“You motherfucker.” He growled lowly in my face. 

“No, but I did fuck your Dad.” I said mockingly. My drunk mind was taking more control than the sober me, who was in the back of my head yelling at me to scream for help. 

The man guffawed in shock. He reeled his arm back ready to strike, just as he was about to swing his wrist was captured by a hand. 

In a split second the man was gone. He was right in front of me, huffing down into my face, then in a blink of an eye he was being dragged out of the booth. 

I sat for a moment in shock, not quite believing my eyes. I darted out of the booth, following behind the man who had my assailant by the scruff of the neck. 

No one stood in the way of the pair as the soldier hauled the man through the crowd. 

“Hey!” I called out after them, as I pushed my way through the onlookers. 

I followed them outside, watching as the soldier threw the man onto the ground. The drunk rolled in the gravel before getting to his feet. Raising his fist in front of his face readying himself for a fight. 

As I looked around I saw that a group had formed around the pair, my brows furrowed as I clocked familiar faces. Bull, Babe, George, it was all Easy men. 

“What the-” I muttered under my breath before my attention was caught again. 

The drunk man lunged forward sloppily, his fist swinging out wildly trying to hit his opponent. The man dodged his attack ducking to the side and moving past the man as he ran forwards. 

He now stood facing me. 

“Donald what the fuck!” I yelled in disbelief. I had no idea how I hadn’t noticed it was him this whole time. 

Don looked over to me as I glared at him. The drunk man darted forward again, but Don wasn’t paying attention, he was too busy looking back at me. 

I watched in horror as the man’s fist collided with Malarley’s face. He stumbled back clutching his cheek, before shaking his head and raising his own fists.  

“No!” I marched forward getting ready to intervene in this stupid fight, but hands caught around my waist holding me back. 

“Let go!” I struggled against the strong arms but their grip held firm. 

“Just let him get in a good few hits, and then I’ll let you go.” Lieb whispered in my ear. 

“No, I don’t need him to fight my battles for me. I was dealing with the situation.” I raised my voice loud so Don could hear me. 

“Right like you were handling it! You were seconds from being hit in the face.” Don chimed in from across the gravel.

“Why do you even care?! You wanted space, remember?” I didn’t care who was listening. I was so angry all I could focus on was Malarkey. 

“We can talk about that later.” Don said while dodging another attack from the man. His fist snapped out from his side, audibly crunching into the man’s nose.  

The drunk man hollered in pain, collapsing into a heap on the floor. Bright red blood poured from his nose as he clutched it screaming out in agony. It was definitely broken. 

Finally Lieb let me go. I stormed out of his arm right towards Don. 

“What is wrong with you?” I shoved his chest, but he didn’t budge as he stared down at me. 

I bent down to the man who was cradling his injured face covered in his own blood. 

“Here let me help.” I offered my assistance. I reached out to move his hands away from his nose so I could see it better. 

“Why are you helping him?” Don scoffed trying to pull me to my feet. 

He was right, I have no idea why I was trying to help this man when not even five minutes ago he was groping my thighs and asking for a turn.

The drunk fended me off, “Like I want your help, you got me into this.” He growled at me as he got to his feet and trudged off. 

I was about to raise my head and have another go at Don, but before I could say anything I was tugged away and steered back into the bar and towards the dance floor. 

George twirled me round, placing his hand in mine and the other on my waist. 

“Wooh, look at you. Even when you’re about to get beaten up, you still look good.” I stared at him in shock for a second before I laughed. 

“What on earth are you doing?” I was baffled by the man as he grinned at me. 

“Come on doll, let me give you a spin.” He twirled me again, disorientating me on purpose to distract me. 

“I don’t know how to dance George!” I protested, trying to leave his arms.

“Oh, of course you do. Don’t lie to me! I literally saw you dance back in Hagenau.”  

“Well I don’t know how to do this dance.” I gestured towards all of the couples who were doing the most elaborate dances with ease. 

A Frank Sinatra song started playing over the record. George took me under my arm resting his hand on my back and holding our other hands together. 

“What dance are we gonna do?” I asked nervously. 

“The foxtrot.” George grinned at me, I gave him a scared look, but he just chuckled at me. 

George patiently taught me the steps. After stepping on his toes multiple times, I finally got the dance. 

We glided around the floor, looking like the other couples I was in awe of moments ago. I was able to actually look at George as we danced, not having to look at my feet anymore or think too hard about what they were doing.

“What’s up with you and Don?” He asked tentatively. 

I sighed, shaking my head. “I don’t know, we had a fight, he said he wanted space and I guess I just spiralled from there.”

“Yeah, I brought you in for a dance cause it looked like you were about to bite each other’s heads off.” George laughed. 

“Thank you, I needed the distraction. Also why are you all here anyway?” They hadn’t said anything about coming out tonight. 

“We might have told Don how beautiful you looked and that if he didn’t come out here after you, you’d probably be swept off your feet by another man.” George replied quickly. 

“Well you were right, someone did sweep me off my feet!” 

“Who?!” George asked, looking around frantically. 

“You, stupid.” I laughed, he sighed in relief, finally getting the joke and chuckling. 

George dipped me down dramatically before bringing me up again. I giggled as he spun me round then pulled me back to him catching me before I smashed into his chest.  

The songs slowed, as the couples around us swayed gently to the music. We stood still, stepping from one foot to the other swaying to the beat. A hand tapped on George’s shoulder as we whispered to each other. We looked over to find Malarkey smiling at us. 

“Mind if I steal her away Luz?” Malarkey asked.

---------------------------------------

Chapter 35

[superbellsubways]

so sad most of you were not here for the zoteposting

[tumbleinthenet]

and i don't blame you if you want to bury me in your memory i'm not the girl i ought to be maybe when you tell your friends you can tell them what you saw in me and not the way i am

(no colorful bits version below)

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??

[thesupernaturalhouse]

Okay, I can't be the only one, who thinks it's kinda ridiculous how people hate Lilith right?

And I think it's even more hypocritical of people to hate Lilith but love Lucifer/Alastor/Adam

Now- I'm not saying you can't dislike a character, no....but we've seen this women ONCE, not counting the story/flashback

And frankly, I don't think she's done anything worthy of, you know, being hated as much as she is

"She took Charlie form lucifer" the fuck she did, im 90% sure that Charlie snuck out of bed and went to find Luci and Lilith(if it was Lilith) jsut went 'no- no. You're supposed to be asleep'

There was no clear context that Charlie was being taken away form Lucifer- not to mention even-

Okay, let's say that they did divorce, which I'm not even sure if they did, and Lilith took Charlie to live with her

She CLEARLY did not keep Charlie AWAY from Luci, we see portraits/pictures of Charlie as a kid young adult, teenager, etc, in her dad's office/home

We even see family portraits with her as a kid and teen/young adult, so the divorce was also probably not until she was already fully grown

Keep in mind, Chalrie is canonically 200 years old, or older, this divorce could've been when she was, like, 180 she probably wasn't a kid when the separated

So even if she was taking Charlie away in that scene, it clearly was not forever and honestly doesn't seem possible with the timeline

"She abandoned charlie" so did....Lucifer??

Like, she mentions him not contacting her for a long time, the one phone call she DOES get from him is about a meeting, not exactly a meaningful conversation

And if he became like this after the 'divorce', then unless lilith divorced him and then left. That probably means Charlie hasn't had a meaningful talk with her dad for longer than 7 years

Or even seen him, I forget if Charlie says that 'this is the first time I'm seeing him in years' or smth

Not to mention Charlie clearly still loves her and views her in a positive light

"Shes in heaven" Okay....we don't know why tho??

I mean, personally, I like to think she's planning war crimes against heaven and is using whatever deal she and Adam had as a cover up

But we don't know the reason, it could be a good one! it could be a shitty one! We don't know!!

We know, like, 4 things about this women and people are already hating her, and I just don't get it

Like why?? What's the reason??

And maybe im overreacting or yall havnt seen the same fans/thing I have

But I've seen people say they hate Lilith but love Lucifer, I've seen people paint her in a bad light to either have a villian/antagonist or to show Adam in a better light, or to victomize/pity Alastor

And I just don't get it, how is she worse then Alastor or Lucifer here?

Which, even if she does own Al's soul, I don't think it'd be a big deal?? Like....Alastor owns souls to, and Lilith isn't abusing her power over him(unlike Al with Husk), I think if she did own his soul, she would've stoped him from suggesting a deal/favor to Charlie

I can't be the only one who thinks like this either right?

i also personally dont want her to be a villian and i also dont want sera to be a villian either; Lute is a good enough villian

Sera ALSO gets hate, which I don't really get. Like this women is trying her best to run heaven by herself and make sure nobody dies under her care

Like this, women clearly has truama/ptsd, just as lucifer does about his falling. And for the exterminations to be fair, if I was told a bunch of rapists and serial killers were coming to my house, I'd grab the gun too!!

Doesn't mean all sinners are like that, I'm sure a lot are in hell for minor crimes, but heaven doesn't know that!

Cut her some slack man, I doubt she's had a nap in 4+ billion years

Also this isn't hate on any of the characters, I absolutely love lucifer, I just think that people needa stop painting lilith and/or sera to be the bad guy

[a-snake-makes-moodboards]

Georgina Orwell x Count Olaf from A Series Of Unfortunate Events moodboard with related inspo

requested by: @free-my-boy-grumbot!! ty for the rq, hope you like it :)

[divider creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more]

(all images were found on Google images)

song to go with it: 'Everybody Wants To Rule The World' by Lorde

Reblogs are appreciated, requests are open!!