#i dunno i jus wanted to do the meme

[catboydiiluc]

stargazing?

[chenyuvale]

baizhluc masterpost :D

this is Everything baizhu x diluc ive created :>

( last one was a collab i did with @leowopard, who did the lineart/sketch and all i did was color :> )

( was asked to tag @thew1tness so here's ur tag :D )

[mochiiwrites]

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.

[captin-azoth]

Manhunt brainrot is real 😂

Top 3 favorite Manhunt characters? (includes both games)

AIIEEE!!! You gotta do me like this!? ISAHOIFH

OK OK ! AAA

Obviously Leo Kasper is 1, goofy lil edgelord..I was gushing about him the other day to my sibling and jus talking about how he has this lil slit? Of sorts on the left side of his head where his hair meets and they were like “say Leo has a slit one more time” basically;;;;

Read me out—I dunno what it is, but I love him and I shouldn’t

I’ll say James Earl Cash as second! Just cause I have so many head canons for him, and I feel like he’s such an interesting character. I have so many thoughts, theories, and just ideas for Cash and I love how the first game just leaves it up for the player to interpret what happens to Cash afterwards. (I especially love how theres a nod to him in Manhunt 2 with him and his son’s having a construction company, it makes me happy)

Third character is so hard, cause I don’t want to say Danny, cause it’s not that I don’t like Danny, it’s more so I don’t want to just choose the playable characters. I think I’ll say Starkweather. (Another one I love making memes outta)

Starkweather is so interesting to me, and with Brian Cox voicing him I think makes it a whole Leo scenario, you shouldn’t like this character, in reality you shouldn’t like any of the characters in Manhunt, but they’re so interesting and filled with personality that you can’t help but love them. The way Starkweather eggs you, eggs Cash on throughout the journey it’s unnerving but you can’t help but laugh in a sense?

Like just some of his lines with the “Butcher them Cash!” “They’re using them as bait Cash-BAIT! I know—I know!” Or even just “You’re gettin’ me all flustered here!” I don’t think I’ve ever been disgusted yet laughed when hearing a line in a game be read like that. Brian Cox really sells Starkweather as a character you should hate but can’t help but to love. I just love his framed portrait’s throughout the estate, smug doofus.

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Texted Love

Henry Cavill x Fem! Reader

Part 6

Central Masterlist | Texted Love

You wanted to say you were used to the flashing lights but in truth, you definitely weren't. Each burst of white blinding your gaze. Your eyes ached tremedously as they strained to continue looking forward, you could feel a massive headache coming in. You really wanted to get out of there as fast as your heels could take you.

Although you had to admit, the attention was divine and intoxicating.

Walking up to red carpeted steps with the help of your dear assistant, who by the way looked absolutely ravishing in his velvet purple suit, you swiftly made your way to the top. Overjoyed at the fat that you had not experience the traumatizing affair that was tripping on the carpet in front of thousands of international cameras. Ugh, the memes they would make.

Just as you were about to head through the main entrance, a familiar voice reached your jeweled ears. Glancing to your right, the faint squeals of Liza Koshy brought a smile to your face as she spoke into her microphone, " Holy cow, it's (Y/n) (L/n)! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Damn look at her dress! Yes queen!" Giggling at her fangirling, you sauntered over to her. Enjoying the glimmers of joy in the young woman's eyes.

"Hello Liza." Your voice smooth like honey.

"Oh my- Hi (Y/n)! How we feeling today?" Her smile was contagious. You shook your head, a tired look on your face.

"Lights are making me dizzy and I'm tired and hungry. What about you my darling dove?" Both her and the cameraman laughed at your honesty.

"I'm doing great thank you for asking. I gotta ask, who are you wearing cause this dress is outta this world." Leaning into her, you were mindful of not "eating the microphone".

"I'm wearing Versace. But not only was the dress designed by them but, of course, the jewelry and purse." You showed her your bracelet, the white diamonds matching the pearliness of your teeth.

"Say (Y/n), I've heard a few things about a certain someone~ Wink wink." You giggled. For some reason, anytime you spoke about him, you seemed to have more energy than ever.

"You mean babyboy Henry?" Liza made a face as she let out a loud 'Ooo'.

"Have ya'll been talking?" Her voice was filled with excitement. You nodded causing the girl to squeal in delight at getting some tea.

"You heard it here folks! The ship has sailed!" You laughed, holding onto your abdomen as your whole body shook with each laugh.

"I wouldn't say its sailed yet. We're just talking. Hell, we haven't even met yet." She made a 'I-don't-believe-you' face, sassily placing her hand on your hip as she put all her body weight to one foot. You chuckled.

"Still, there's already a fandom." Your eyes widened in both horror and pure happiness.

"You jest!" She shook her head, her black locks moving back and forth like silk in the wind.

"I do not jest m'lady."

"Oh god. I don't know whether to be horrified or not...well...hmmm... As long as fanart has yet to exist I guess we're good." The reporter made a face to which made you have a moment of lapsed judgement.

"Bitch what the fuck ya'll work fast." Upon realizing your mistake you gave her a sheepish smile, apologizing for your sailor's mouth. Hopefully they bleeped that out.

The two of you spoke some more despite many interruptions made by your assistant. You genuinely enjoyed the young youtuber's presence, it was warm and bubbly just like her. Unfortunately, all things must come to an end. It was just as you were about to walk away when the she asked," Is there anything you'd like to tell Mr. Cavill at this moment?"

Acquiring a new sense of boldness, you nodded. A wicked smirk coming to sit upon your painted lips.

"Henry I don't even know why you bother, you can't handle this." You teased as you ran your hands down the curves of your body with a lopsided grin. Giving a kiss goodbye to your newfound friend, you walked away from the camera. Finally entering the main building, you were sat down near the stage, beside some other actors you had yet to see on the big screens. Or most likely, they were already on the big screen but you just didn't know considering that you don't really watch TV or movies as much as the regular person.

Opening your bag, you pulled out your phone, pushing back the many Wendy's receipts that were already lazily stuffed in there as an effort to have an alibi in the unlikely case that you get caught committing a crime.

Unlocking the device, a lopsided grin overtook your features the moment you gazed into your notifications bar. An oh so familiar username lighting up through the pixels.

.

...

.

Instagram 7:50pm

(henrycavill): (u/n): Too much to handle? Is that a challenge?

.

...

.

You laughed. Tapping on it, you unlocked the phone allowing for it to take you to the origin of the message.

.

...

.

(U/n): (henrycavill): What? You actually think you can handle me? Dunno bout that mate

.

...

.

He replied fast. 

.

...

.

(henrycavill): (U/n): Oh I know I can handle you. Also nice dress, fits you well ;)

.

...

.

You rolled your eyes, a charming smirk settling upon your lips. You could feel your cheeks flush with heat as blushed rushed into them.

.

...

.

(U/n): (henrycavill): Thank you doll. What are you doing rn?

(henrycavill): (U/n): Just doing some things for the Witcher.

(U/n): (henrycavill): Big oof. Loved the first season, can't wait for more. If we meet you gotta be wearing both the contacts and the hair cuz 👌

(henrycavill): (U/n): hehehe

(henrycavill): (U/n):  What would you do if I did? 😏

.

...

.

You couldn't help but giggle. Catching wandering eyes on your figure, you sent the owner's a little sensual shrug before glancing over to Terry, who stood not so far from you. At the moment, he was ordering some Champagne for the two of you.

He mouthed, Is it him? You puckered your lips, feigning a shy glance to the side before looking back up at the lean male. It seemed that the response was exactly what he wanted for his eyes shined brighter than freaking supernovas. Quickly grabbing both your drinks, he swiftly made his way over to you in long strides.

You proceeded to look back at the screen upon hearing your friend pull out the chair beside you after having put down the drink on the inky black silk tablecloth.

.

...

.

(U/n): (henrycavill): 😜 we’ll find out when we cross that bridge lol 

(henrycavill): (U/n): smh. We will meet. How could I not want to meet my celebrity crush? ;)

.

...

.

Seriously, the audacity of this man. Like hOW COULD HE?

Playing with my emotions and not my puss-

...

(A/N): Sorry this is short.

Taglist:

@peachy-aisha @josiejosie0 @alwayshave-faith @hista-girl @sleepyxcoffee @akropodeti @artsxpe @ju-lehnsherr @jessyballet @snowbellexx @fanfictionaddiction99 @barikawho @thummbelina @amberparker18 @tinawritesstuff​ @doozywoozy​ 

Hope you enjoyed!

[brooklynislandgirl]

❔ What crime of passion could any mortal or immortal commit that would cause the loss of your affection? From Mischa

It came from the Lost, Lost, Lost Meme Pile || Not Accepting

Though she doesn't really like the Dark, she's learning to live on its periphery of shadows for Mischa's sake. Dim lights. No fire in the hearth. Only meeting him after the sun has well and truly set. It wasn't wholly comfortable at first but she's easing into it. Maybe the wine helps and her fingertips hover on the side of the glass, her head tilted as she contemplates his question. The first thing that comes to mind happens before he even finishes the question is easy and so it’s the first of her litany. “Harmin’ a keiki...a child...for any reason. I swore an’ oat’ t’ nevah do harm but when someone decides to be a monstah, den all bets are off.” She knows predators exist. She knows some people are sick beyond curing. She knows others simply get off on tormenting the weakest and most vulnerable. She sees the permutations of it in her clinic and her ER day in and day out. In her opinion, those people have given up anything they may be entitled to under the banner of humanity. She sees them as true agents of the Wyrm, and the litany of her cousins dictate that they combat the Wyrm wherever It may dwell. She only sees herself as doing right by Gaia when she dirties her hands with them. “Same goes for animals, da elderly. Anyone vulnerable really.” The second item is along the same vein. “Supportin’ shark finin’, doin’ it demself, pretty much anyone involved in it. I know you know about skin changers. You know dey my kin. Or dat I am kinfolk to dem. Eiddah way you slice it, dey family an’ family is sacrosanct. I would be jus’ as unrelentin’ if harm came to my braddah or members of my cabal. My close friends. Family is family, after all.” She took a sip. A long, thoughtful pause. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, eiddah. Make of dat what you wish.” She moistens her lips, taps the glass again. “I dunno if your kine have dis but amongst my kine, some turn...evil. No oddah way t’ describe it. Dey deliberately choose to use mana to do awful kine. Some for pleasure, some in service of unfathomable masters. Dey spread corruption, despair, destruction. Worse, very bad ones...when dey come to an end...are reborn. An’ so deep was dat ruination dat deir soul ...avatar ...eidolon... daemon... wha’ever ya wanna call it... is still so dark, so enthralled to deir worst, dat dey return same as dey died. We call one Nephandus. More dan one are Nephandi. As an entire faction dey are so bad dat we as one will turn aside from our own paradigms of tradition versus tradition....like your clans, if I understand right, even to da point of putting aside da Ascension War...Tradition versus Technocrats, an’ will work togeddah to destroy one.  “Even a rumour of one runnin’ around is enough. An’ now you know more about my kine dan anyone would be comfortable with. If dey wanted to press da matter, dey could go to our leadership an’ claim dat I have conspired wi’ an enemy of Ascension. Which would be a deat’ sentence at best, an’ dere’s worse kine dey could do. Since I’m riskin’ life, limb an’ soul... care to share about your kine? Do you have a litany...a series of laws? Are dere any crimes amongst yours dat are too terrible to stomach?”

[bythieves-a]

can i be whiny im thinking thoughts

do u guys still like me ;_; that such a baby thing to ask LMFAO but i find myself wondering when i get on any of my blogs,,, i know multimuses dont get as much attention anyways so theres that one covered but im just??? baby mode

and im not rly sad or anything just wondering what i can do to get things Rolling again i miss the days of having 20+ active threads and being on a nice lil reply schedule,, idk i just like to write and when i cant im like WAHHH DSJKHGDKJGDS and a lot of things i write just. fizzle out or go away which a lot of the time is Fine bc ppl have their own shit going on but im just ?? and i already struggle w feeling ignored/forgotten in personal life too so im like. screams. FDDSFGDSFG i dont like posting stuff like this i sound whiny LMAO but ive been thinking abt this for. months?

i jus wanna write n be friends and think up cool plots for all our characters and talk n stuff ;__; and im not at All good at reading ppl in conversation like to know when im talkin too much or bein awkward etc u know? idk tumblr rp is tying into issues i already have too much irl and it annoys me bc this is my only hobby n i love doing it LOL 

and this all goes not only for writing/plotting but talking too bc i really do wanna be friends with yall and just chat and actually be buds but im Really bad with conversation and i worry sometimes i seem like im trying to force ppl to talk to me or i seem like Im being forced to talk which im Not im just. bad? sometimes i need a day to reply, sometimes i reply 7 times in a second and feel annoying, sometimes i keysmash and try rly hard to think of words bc i have nothing to say but i wanna keeep talkin KDLFGDKJGS

i dunno my vibe on my blog lately has just been. present? im acknowledged sometimes but i dont feel like theres very much interest ;__; but ofc take all this with a grain of salt bc im 99% sure im on the spectrum and already feel isolated/weird/like nobody actually wants me around and are just being nice yknow? even when i Know thats not the case rip... and i've tried a lot of diff lil experiments too like posting at different times / posting scs when i really Dont want to write even more starters etc ( bc i feel like im Always writing starters all the time i have starter brainrot )

idk lately i just feel like im screaming for interaction LMFAO but im ok im done rambling i've just been sitting on this for probably a year i just feel like da squidward meme watchin spongebob n pat from the window LOL also this is all just generally and not @ anyone bc i Have made rly good friends here ;__;

an update as of 2/22: i am not feeling much better abt any of this, not as far as writing goes, so im going to stress this again even though i’ve said it before: please god softblock me or don’t follow me in the first place if you’re not going to write with me. this counts for all of my blogs, bythieves, undeth, and agarycus. it is so disheartening to reach out for interaction and get nothing back, or post starter calls/memes Several times just to get any outreach. Especially when my posts are liked or interacted with whenever they’re ooc/photo posts/Anything But Interaction Calls. i really did try to tone it down when i originally wrote this post but it truly feels like i’m being blatantly ignored 80% of the time and that’s not a particularly good feeling in a hobby that requires interaction to happen. and i can totally understand not wanting to write with me or any of my characters for any reason, but if thats the case.... dont follow me??? ???????? please

[himbowelsh]

webgott + jane/ chicken pox

a little fall of meme can hardly hurt me now  ( accepting )

AN:  this is almost certainly not what you were hoping for, but do you have ANY IDEA how much i’ve missed this little family??  writing jane??  this is officially part of the single dad web au and i regret nothing

It takes exactly thirty seconds of Googling for Joe to declare Webster banned from the house.

“What?” Webster exclaims, bracing himself against the doorframe as his fiancé blocks his way. “Are you serious? This is my house.”

“Our,” Joe corrects, because this is the hill he’s willing to die on, but not one Webster should. “The day I moved in, it became my house, and I’m temporarily kicking you out.”

“This isn’t funny, Joe. Let me in.”

“Nope,” Joe declares, and moves to slam the door in his face. Webster blocks it, and nearly gets a broken shoulder for the trouble. He’s nothing if not determined, the idiot. Gritting his teeth, Joe moves to shove him out, but Webster takes advantage of his loose stance to push himself further inside.

“My name is on the lease, so you can’t evict me — Joe, seriously, what the hell?” Finally, Webster pushes his way inside; he stands in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips. Webster’s got a Dad Mode, obviously learned through experience, and it’s in full gear now; he looks like he’s about to take away Joe’s X-Box for a week, though the genuine anger on his face speaks for itself. “What are you trying to do?” he demands, taking a step forward. “My kid’s in there, and she’s sick, so what do you mean I can’t be in there with her —“

“She’s got spots, Web,” Joe interjects, voice flat. “They showed up while you were at the store. Her arms are covered in them.”

Webster processes this for a moment, understanding dawning across his face. “Just chicken pox, then? Okay, that’s not so bad.”

Joe snorts, running a hand through his hair to force it back. When Webster raises an eyebrow at him, he just shakes his head. “That alone tells me you ain’t ever had chicken pox. So you’re gonna stay out of this house until Jane’s better, and I’ve deep cleaned everything. Not taking any chances.”

“Joe. Come on.” Webster’s incredulity is clearly toeing the line of frustration, but he doesn’t get it. “It’s just chicken pox.”

“Yeah, for her, because she’s ten.” Joe sweeps a hand towards Jane’s closed bedroom door — brightly decorated with drawings of Pokémon, sea creatures, and cartoon characters. Behind it, the poor kid’s laid up in bed, sheets thrown off because she’s too hot. Her dark curls are a tangled mess, since she couldn’t be bothered to tame them this morning; but they can’t quite hide the bright red rash steadily creeping up her neck. Joe was freaked out for a few minutes, before he recognized it. Once you’ve had chicken pox once, you never really forget those splotches, or the goddamn itch. “For her it’s just a little thing, sure. It’ll be over in a week. But in adults, it’s not so little.”

“Oh, come on —“

“Chicken pox is twenty-five times deadlier in adults.”

That shuts Webster up.

“I — you —“ He fumbles for words for a moment, the gears in his pretty little head apparently jammed up. “Have you —“

“Yeah, Web, I’ve had it before. Gave it to my whole family when I was six.” He rolls his eyes, before they catch on the plastic bag in Webster’s hand. Leaning across the room, he gets just close enough to pluck the bag from him, and immediately starts pawing around inside.

“Whatcha get, whatcha get... Tylenol, good.” He tosses it on the counter. “Children’s vitamins, weird, but okay — seriously, Web?” He holds up a shark plushie with unnervingly large, glittering eyes. 

“They were on sale,” is Webster’s only defense. “And Jane loves getting new toys when she’s sick!”

“Amazing you didn’t raise a spoiled brat.” Joe returns to the bag with a snort. Pulling out a pack of mango orange juice — the only thing Jane will drink when she’s sick, apparently — he finally lays out Webster’s haul on the counter. For a moment, he scrutinizes it, lips pursed. “You’re gonna have to go back,” he finally says. “She’ll need calamine, for the itching. You can find it in a bottle, or a little can that sprays... and who can you stay with ‘til this blows over? We could ask Lip, he’s got an extra room, or — could you call Hoob? Dukeman?”

“For god’s sake, Joe,” Webster groans, “I’m not going anywhere, just to leave you to take care of my sick kid!”

That actually bites. Joe goes still, words dying in his throat. His gaze stalls on the counter for a moment, intent, before he rounds on Webster. This is a conversation they’ve had before — many, many times before — and he didn’t think they’d need to have it again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands, voice low instead of harsh. “You really think I mind it? You think when I moved in here with you guys, when I put that ring on my finger, I wasn’t signing up for this?” He pauses for a moment, drinking in the silence, before throwing his hands in the air. “Jesus, Web. Shit. If we’re still on that page —“

“Alright.” Webster, at least, looks appropriately shamefaced. In any other situation, this could easily spiral into an argument — not like they haven’t gone to war over dumber stuff — but now isn’t the time or place. He sighs, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. It just... feels wrong to leave you on your own.”

Jane’s not bad company at the best of times. Actually, Joe likes hanging out with her more than he does with her dad. At least Jane can put up a good fight in any video game — even the ones she’s technically not allowed to play — and she’s got enough stories to fill a library. Half of them, Joe suspects, she’s just making up off the top of her head, but Jane’s got an imagination like a firecracker. Her drawings are always brimming with color and life. When she brings them to her dad or Joe for inspection, she demands constructive criticism, and takes it seriously. Jane’s always busy — if she’s not drawing, she’s reading, and if she’s not reading, she’s writing, and if she’s not writing she’s caught in a very intense make-believe game in the backyard — but somehow she still finds time to spend with the adults.

It’s not like Joe doesn’t like Jane. It’s not like being around her is some burden or anything. Hell, he thinks he even loves her a bit — in a way he never imagined getting to love a kid of his own. He loves Webster, and Jane means the world to Web, so it’s simple as that.

And Web thinks he wouldn’t want to take care of Jane while she’s sick? Jesus.

“You kidding me? We’ll have a great time. Jane’s been trying to get me into Harry Potter, anyway, and you gotta show your kid Star Wars… I don’t trust you with the greats.” His topic shift is clearly a dismissal of the entire argument. Good old Web doesn’t get the hint.

“But you shouldn’t —“

“Fuck’s sake!” Joe exclaims — and if he wasn’t genuinely mad before, he is now. His tone lowers a second later, mindful of Jane in the other room, even if it’s hardly the first time she’s heard the two of them tear at each other. Instead, Joe settles for tossing the plastic bag on the ground, in blatant defiance of Web’s “pick things up” rule, and glaring at him. When Web gapes at him, incredulous, Joe just raises an eyebrow. Whatcha gonna do? Come over here and pick it up? It’s probably got chicken pox on it.

“You,” Joe says in a low voice, “are gonna let me do this for you. I’m gonna look after Janie. You are gonna go to the store and get some calamine, for shit’s sake, and then you’re gonna call up Hoobler and ask if he’s got a spare room. You can get whatever you need from our room, but I want you outta here, Web.”

Webster is silent for a moment, like he has to thoroughly chew his thoughts before saying them. His sigh, when it comes out, shakes a bit. “Joe…”

“Just let me take care of you,” he says again, and sees the exact moment Web breaks.

“What sort of lotion do we need again?”

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

Joe’s encountered Sick Web in the wild before. He’s a drama queen if they ever existed — clingy, listless, and depressive. If he can manipulate you into doing something for him, he will; if he needs to act sicker than he is, he’ll damn well do it. If he gets you sick, he’ll have no remorse. Flu season in their house still feels like a bad dream, one Joe prefers not to revist.

Sick Jane, in comparison, is a dream.

“It’s so nice not to be in bed,” she chirps, sounding downright cheerful as she balances a soup bowl in her lap. Joe keeps an eye on her — not just because she’ll be devastated if she spills on her octopus PJs, but because of the scratching. Jane’s a sneaky scratcher. Joe’s caught her doing it at least twenty times today, and no matter how much he hammers the point home that she won’t get better if she keeps scratching at the things, she doesn’t quite get it. There’s a patch of spots just under her chin that are really giving her trouble, but other than that, she’s holding out well.

“It’s only if you’re up for it, okay? You start feeling tired and it’s back to bed.”

Jane makes a face at him. Joe rolls his eyes and makes a face right back.

“So,” she says, having seized control of the remote. “What do you wanna watch now?”

“I dunno, the amount of movies we’ve watched this week —“

“You want to watch a cartoon? Some of the new Marvel ones are supposed to be good, I haven’t seen them.”

“Meh. We could. Ooh, how about Young Jus—“

He’s cut off by the sound of hammering — not at the door, but at the goddamn window.

Jane yelps as a splash of her soup hits the couch cushions; Joe nearly falls to the floor, scrambling for the first weapon he can find, which happens to be the remote. The curtains are half closed to the cool night, which means anyone outside could see in if they got close enough — and, as Joe approaches the windowpane, he can see a white hand pressed to the glass.

It clicks for Jane first. “Oh my gosh,” she gasps, leaping from the couch. “Daddy!”

Joe has to fight the urge to groan as Webster’s smiling face appears in the window. How many times is this, now — eight? Nine? It’s been almost a week since Web left, but he sure hasn’t let himself be forgotten. Every day, he stops by… either to see Jane and leave gifts, or to see him and leave gifts. Collectively, they’re now three books, two plushies, three video games, three DVDs, and a dozen snacks richer.

At the moment, though, Webster’s not carrying any bags. He doesn’t seem to have shown up with anything — just himself.

It’s also impossible to hear him through the window, but to Jane that doesn’t seem to matter.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says, pressing her hand to the outline of Web’s in the glass. “Are you okay? Are you staying safe? Look at my spots, these ones are starting to get scabs. Joe’s been making soup every night, I’m so tired of it — can you get me a fruit salad? I like the hammerhead you brought over—“

Heaving a soft sigh, Joe steps back, giving the two some space. Knowing Jane, she can go on for a while… and she’s missed her dad. Rather than intrude on the moment, Joe slips out the kitchen door, into the backyard. The night air is sweet, waking him up in all the places exhaustion was starting to weigh on him. He closes his eyes, tilting his head to bask in it. The temptation to light up a cigarette is strong, but he’ll never hear the end of it from Web if he found out, so Joe just sits in the steps, arms braced against his knees as he stares into the night.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, footsteps echo around the side of the house.

“Oh, scarecrow. I think I missed you most of all.”

Joe exhales, deep from his chest. “That why you’ve been coming around every day? Careful, Web. I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got a crush on me.”

“Now, more than ever,” Webster replies, and the sweetness in his voice takes Joe aback.

When Joe looks over, he finds Web standing with his hands in his pockets, silhouetted against the porch light. His expression is open, warm — and his eyes might be glittering a bit too, which, crissakes Web — vulnerable in a way that leaves Joe feeling unmasked.

These are not the sort of feelings Joe knows how to deal with. He shrugs, eager to shake them off.

“Hey, you know, you don’t come back soon and Jane and I might take over this place for ourselves. We’re thinking of putting in a movie theater… indoor swimming pool…” Web is still smiling at him, and it leaves Joe feeling a bit weak. The bravado in his voice slides away, tone gentling. “A few more days, yeah? You saw her. She’s doing great. As soon as those spots scab up, she’s all yours.”

“You’re doing a great job, Joe.” And, because Web can never resist making everything ridiculously sappy, “Thank you.”

Joe shrugs, and has to look away. “Next time you visit, bring a pizza or something, huh?”

“I do have something for you, actually. Jane, uhh — Jane told me to give it to you.”

“Yeah?” Interest piqued, Joe turns back. “What?”

Web isn’t smiling now. He actually looks a little mortified. Sterling himself, he shuffles his feet, clearing his throat. “I — okay, Jane told me, remember, she said I had to —“

“Web.”

At last, Webster cracks. He raises a hand to his lips, and — to Joe’s amazement — blows a massive kiss.

“Thank you,” is all Web says — and he doesn’t get upset, even when Joe almost falls over cackling.

Any time, Web, he thinks, gripping the porch railing for dear life. Any time.

[the-wanted-man]

The Moon & Judgment!

Tarot Card Ask Meme: ♦  

The Moon: Can they find beauty in hurtful situations? Do they push to follow their dreams or do they wait idly by? What paralyzes my muse emotionally?

“Absolutely. There’s...a lesson in every adventure, I’d like t’think so anyways. Life is jus’ as much about them lows, as it is about enjoyin’ th’highs. Hells, I...probably do th’former better. See, there’s always purpose to th’pain. Hurtin’ ain’t ever jus’ fer th’helluvit. It’s meant t’teach ya somethin’. So when I find myself....hurtin’...I look fer th’reason, an’ I try t’take somethin’ out’ve that.” He smiles, dimples framing his cheeks. “Otherwise, what was th’point?” 

“I dunno ‘bout th’rest though. I’m prone t’wait fer it...but I ain’t one t’throw away my shot neither. I’ve never found m’self so paralyzed by any emotion as t’not act. Rather, m’always expressly aware’ve what m’feelin’ an’ can never decide what t’do wit’ it until th’moment’s jus’ on me.” 

In a sense, most of what he’s said is true. Particularly the first bit - Lawrence finds a great deal of peace in making sense of his pain. If he can reason with it, then it’s not just some kind of pointless existence to tragedy. He’s not so naïve as to believe that there isn’t needless tragedy, but for his personal outlooks, he prefers not to victimize himself or his experiences. 

As far as dreams to follow, nothing he longs for is so tangible for him to simply seek out and fulfill however, he is highly likely to do the things he wants at some eventual point. It may not always be right away, but he never feels particularly barred from doing a lot. It’s more so what he feels he’s allowed to have or deserves to have that might keep him from chasing a desire. 

Emotions have never kept him from doing something. He’s quick to confront himself on an emotional front and do that thing he fears, or face a darker aspect about himself. Growth is...intoxicating. The shaping and evolution of one’s self, or of anything at all makes stagnation an utterly foreign concept to him and he actively revolts against it on every level. 

Judgment: How easily do they forgive others? Themselves? How easily do they move forward in life? Are they harsh on themselves with self-criticism? Why?

He took his eyes off the cards. This card was dumb. Tarot was stupid. He needed another drink. 

These are the kinds of questions that make a cowboy uncomfortable! That of course also makes them some of the best ones to ask. 

First question is probably the easiest to answer, but the one he’s likely most reluctant to. He can be exceptionally forgiving, even when he knows its probably in his best interest not to be. He’s not sure why, but despite harboring reservations he’s generally one to give out second, third, forth and fifth chances. There is a limit though, and once that is touched it’s a pretty sharp end with him.

 On a personal level, he tries not to be hard on himself but in general? He’s far more likely to blame himself for some kind of fault in a matter than someone else. Even when it very clearly isn’t his fault. It ties a bit into the last answer, but is more negative in quality.

The criticism he holds for himself can be viewed as exceptionally harsh by others even if he himself doesn’t see it in similar severity. The why isn’t so clear, but I’d say he’s so invested in self-enlightenment and growth, that he’ll burn his own forest just to see it flourish down the line. It’s easier to change one’s self than it is to change other people, so he’ll take on the burden of fault to feel a bit more in control of whatever he thinks is progress. 

[burning-fcols]

-gently plops Alastor in here for the opinion meme- 

- ✩ { @sinfulredemptions​ } ✩

{ ☆ }  ❝  Alastor is... strong.  ❞  Words are quiet, hesitant as if he’s not entirely sure how to form them. Not normally one to be tentative about letting his mouth run rampant when it doesn’t matter, it’s a new look on the spider; one he doesn’t care to show. Rubbing his arm, gaze averts downward to the side, brows knitting slightly,  ❝  He’s powerful... in more ways than one. I dunno exactly how ta put it. He jus’... He’s th’ kinda guy who seems like he could do anythin’ he wanted ta. He’s so put togetha’ an’ composed an’- an’... Fuck, he’s so strong.  ❞

A strength that Angel feels as if he could only HOPE to possess.

Biting his bottom lip, he chews on it lightly before puffing out a breath of air. Alright, enough dwelling.  ❝  Heh, I bet yer expectin' me ta say somethin' predictable like his ass or somethin'...  ❞  He jokes, trying to deflect from his earlier moment of weakness.  ❝  Nah, I like his voice... It's soothin' ta me, wit' or wit'out that fuckin' static shit he has goin' on. He's got one helluva laugh too... Th' kinda laugh that makes ya feel all giddy inside, y'know?  ❞  They probably don't.  ❝  But, if his voice doesn't count as a ‘physical trait’—  ❞  Air quotes accompany the word  ❝  —then I gotta give it ta his smile.  ❞  

Crossing his arms, fingers drum against the slender limb,  ❝  I don't know what his deal is sometimes. When it comes ta how he feels about me... We get along jus' fuckin' peachy, an' talkin' ta him is one of th' betta' parts of my day.  ❞  Of his life.  ❝  But sometimes, I dunno if I'm readin' too much inta' all this? I mean- Al's a complicated guy. Heh, ain't we all? An' he shows how much he cares in li'l ways. Things most people probably wouldn't pick up on.  ❞  Things that Angel appreciates with every fiber of his being. But still-  ❝  But it'd be nice ta hear him actually say it, one of these days... I ain't askin' much. Jus' some confirmation, is all.  ❞  

Just four little words- I care about you. Because Angel sure as Hell cares about HIM. Loves the bastard, actually. For far more than just... ‘entertaining’ company.

Shrugging, a leg lightly rubbing against his other one, gaze raises as he grows impatient with this incessant questioning. This prodding into his personal, semi-confusing, relationship.  ❝  This is gonna sound sappy as shit... but I'd like ta get a good cuddle sesh in wit' Al. For him ta jus'- hold me, at least for a li'l bit...  ❞  Shaking his head and brushing the request off with a scoff, a hand waves dismissively as another rests on his cocked him, all signs of vulnerability— aside from the warmth in his face —slipping away in favor of his usual persona. Because okay- that's enough.  ❝  But that ain't gonna happen, an' heh- it ain't even an issue~  ❞  

❝  Al already gives me WAY more than he needs ta, an' I'm pushin' my luck as is... I don't need him ta touch me.  ❞  Even if it's not in the way most would assume.  ❝  I jus' need his company.  ❞  { ☆ }

[sharpen-jadescythe]

Warcraft Himbos? Take Two

I can make fun of this twice, right?

I really like all of these characters. I mean them no disrespect. That said, I may be wrong but... Once you see it. You can’t un-see it.

Malfurion

I hear he didn't notice Tyrande really, really liked him and not his weird brother at first.

Slept in the emerald dream waaay too long, and forgot he had a woman waiting to become his wife, maybe? Well, a lot of other dangerous things were happening to Malfy while he was out cold, it wasn’t really his fault, and we do love him poor thing, but...

Yeah, still kind of a serious himbo move, there.

“Uh well, I mean you’re really powerful and special Tyrande. You could have pretty much anyone you wanted. Especially my brother who’s always lurking around and has the aesthetic of a hot biker guy in tricked out leather, with a gang of demon hunters following him, to boot. And I think you deserve better so...”

*Tyrande standing right there, ready to strangle him*

“Yeah. We could probably get married today, after thousands of years have whizzed by. I’m awake now anyway.” *shrugs big manly druid shoulders*

Well. Speaking of those shoulders and that lovely SOUL he’s got. I’d probably wait for him, too.

Arthas

Well this one isn't going to be fair at all and maybe I'm just being silly for the most part but... The culling of Stratholme. What... what was that.

Image caption: “Hold up, I got this! Scourge is under my control, babeeee!”

Arthas, "The Scourge is too powerful. We jus... We need to kill ALL the things."

Jaina, "I can't watch you do this." (Because who would. Except maybe Arthas.)

Arthas, *proceeds to fix the Scourge problem a second time, by hanging out with them a lot more*

He looked GREAT in that armor while he was at it, though!

Nathanos

*lots of Worgen die*

Well, she's a bad girl, misunderstood, that's totally my thing. And people say she's evil but...

*a world tree explodes*

I mean, she's hot, so. I still dunno what everyone else's problem is.

Also see: No solid proof we'll be sleeping together any time soon, but I'll still hang around Sylvie after all the things, for that.

Or for the non-shippers: She called me her champion really suggestively, gave me a brand new body, eventhough I didn't ask for one... And we used to flirt and stuff while I was alive. Speaking of, she even spent the night at my house that one time... But she's not into me, how could THAT be??

Nathanos. Come on, Nathanos. I like Sylvanas myself, but I’m OUTSIDE of the game. Boy, go out there into the World of Warcraft, and find someone who treats you (and living things) better! *snap*

Garrosh

See: exhibit EVERYTHING.

The funny thing is, somehow Garrosh charmed Thrall. Which is a dead-solid himbo move as well.

Image caption: Nice crotch shot there too, gotta be real with ya.

“I dunno, you’re kinda... well...”

“Say it, Thrall. Just say it!”

“...Stupid.”

*chest thumps, points over Thralls’ head* “But I still got next warchief, right?”

“Well, the only other person that leaps straight to mind is Gamon. But I think that’s more because he’s made himself into a catchy meme over the years--”

“You heard ‘im, guys. I GOT NEXT WARCHIEF! PASS ME THE HORDE BAAAALL!”

*Thrall sighs, sloughs off*

Much later, “I, Gamon, will save us!”

Thrall, “Dammit, I knew I shoulda chosen that random Tauren meme over him!!”

Conclusion

I'm either right, or we ALL have a little himbo inside of us. A special little buff part of our hearts that will always jump into action because BIG feelings, and has to be really shamelessly cute while doing it. <3

Any more out there? I’m sure some folks can think of stronger, or should I say... buffer... examples.

[artificialqueens]

Elastic Heart Part 8/10 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: Thanks so much to artificialmeggie for the read-over and feedback on this update!!  And thank you to everyone who’s been reading and commenting. Fanfic takes a village, and the AQ village is everything.

We’re getting close to the finish line, and I hope to have it all done and posted within the next week so that I can stop worrying about canon messing with me. Also, if you want to know the inspiration behind this title and lip sync, check out Brooke Lynn Hytes’ performance of “Elastic Heart” on youtube.  Dear God, do it now.

Brock has this thing about winning. 

It’s a mean thing.

An ugly thing.

And it’s worked for him, for countless pageants, for Miss Continental, for Drag Race (for most of Drag Race, anyway.) He knows it’s connected to anxiety and perfectionism and self-esteem and whatever, knows it’s got something to do with that gasping hole in his chest (below the breastbone, left of the third rib) the one that’s always hungry, the one that can never be full. 

It’s a - whole mood.

It’s why he hasn’t had any real relationships, just short breathless hookups that ended in ignored texts and missed calls.

It’s why the thing with Jose was such a consummate disaster. Because it messed up the plan, the strategic and well-designed flowchart that Brock had for his life and the direction it was going to take.  Jose was not part of that plan.  A crown was.

And Brock had chances to change it, to back out, to cut ties. He had so many chances and after the Snatch Game - he tried. Like an asshole, he tried.  It was safer for them to be separate; Brock wasn’t so confused then.  It was safer when Vanjie wasn’t looking at him with those slanted eyebrows and soft smile, it meant Brock could focus. Could feed that part of himself that told him he wasn’t good enough.  

Told him he wasn’t enough, period.

If they had been talking much at the time he would have told Vanessa: I can’t think when you’re near me and I’m not going to put us both in the bottom two and that look on your face makes me forget what I’m doing here.

But instead he said nothing.

He watches the latest episode at a club in Nashville and performs some Ariana for them when it’s over.  As he leaves the stage, he realizes that his knee is throbbing.  It’s an old dance injury that returns now and then (a ghost to keep him company.)  Brock tries to stay and mingle but the pain is making him pricklier than usual; around 1 am he leaves in full drag and catches a cab home. He changes into his usual t-shirt and sweats, and is taking off his paint in the bathroom (leg stretched out on the toilet, icepack on his knee).

Then the phone rings.

When he sees Jose’s name, he almost doesn’t answer it. 

He’s just not in a place to talk to him right now.  He’s too wound up, and he’s in pain, and he’s worried his heart might give out like his knee if he hears Jose’s voice. 

The phone rings. Rings.

Fuck you, heart, Brock thinks and picks up.

At first there’s silence on the other end.  Then a breath.  Then another.

“Hey mama.”  The sound of the other man’s voice is like a lighthouse. “Weren’t you s’posed to call me or somethin’? I thought we’re gonna plan all this shit, all our statements and - then I get the cold shoulder, what’s goin’ on?”

There’s something a bit more musical than usual about the way Jose’s talking. A rolling rhythm, a slight drag on his vowels.

“You’re drunk,” Brock says, and Jose laughs, a gorgeously painful sound. 

Of course he’s drunk. Why would he call Brock if he wasn’t?

“Nah, girl, just - well maybe.  Back from the club, celebratin’ that my ass still on the show. You know. Everyone’s been talking at me about you, thought I better hit you up.”

“What club?” Brock wipes off his lipstick, turns slowly back to his beige-coloured self. “Where are you?”

“I’m in…” Jose pauses too long. “Shit.  Where’m I? Chicago.  That’s right.  Bitch, I’m from Chicago. Where you at?”

“Home.” 

“Damn. You on the other side of the world.”

Brock snorts, peeling off his lashes.  “A seven hour drive is the other side of the world, eh?”

“Look at you, soundin’ all Canadian.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking aboot.”

Jose laughs again, and the tipsy affection in his voice makes Brock squeeze his eyes shut, as if that will somehow block out the sound.  He doesn’t want to hear it.  It makes him miss Jose like he’d miss a vital organ, his left arm, his tongue.

“So.  So. Why did I - oh yeah, we’re planning. Scheming.  Gonna rob a bank or something.”

“Girl, you are so wasted.” 

“I’d be your getaway driver. You know, Fast and the Furious style.”

“Maybe if the whole drag thing doesn’t work out.” Brock’s smiling stupidly to himself, and he catches that look in the mirror.  It’s the expression he’s only ever seen on the show - the ‘Vanjie smile’, small and hopeless.  Seeing it in real life is a bit terrifying. “You can be Vin Diesel.”

“Shut your lyin’ mouth, ho! If I’m anyone it’s the Rock.” 

“Fine, Jesus. Be the Rock, if that’s your deal-breaker.” Brock leaves the bathroom, only half finished but unable to stand in front of a mirror any longer.  He sits down on his sofa, leg propped out on the coffee table with the ice pack balanced on it.  He smells terrible, like sweat and hairspray.  Christ, he needs a shower. “So. Just a couple more episodes left, and then -”

“Then you burnt it down. Not something I’ma forget.” The laughter in Jose’s voice fades. “How you feelin’ about watching it all?”

“Not great.  I don’t know – how it’s going to look, how they’re going to make it look.” Brock was basically moving on auto-pilot after it was over. There are a lot of pieces missing. “What if I, like, blacked out and did that Celine Dion impression again?”

“I dunno if I’d call what you did an ‘impression.’”

“And the library is open.” Brock winces a bit at the memory, because the reads during that last episode were too affectionate.  He’d been trying to play it cool then, make it clear he was all about the show and not just some sucker for a gorgeous face. But watching the edits, it’s almost like he went too hard in the opposite direction.  No wonder they were both fucked up about it.

“Also bitch, I was there that night. I think I woulda remembered if you went full Celine. Had flashbacks and shit.”

“You might have repressed it. On account of the trauma.”

“Guess we’ll both be in for a surprise then.”

God, Brock hopes not. That whole lip sync against Vanessa still feels unreal.  Some parts are so clear they’re like photographs, and others are like kindergarten drawings.  He knows they’re meant to mean something, but he can’t for the life of him figure out what. 

“So what are you going to say? When it airs.  We’ve got, like, two episodes left.”

“Does it matter?”

It does matter, it matters to Brock so much almost can’t put words to it.  

“Yes.”

“I’ll say… ha, I’ll say I paid you off.  Like boxing and shit. I was betting on the winner and gave you all my meme money to throw it.” Jose’s tone is bright like he’s joking, but there’s something underneath his words that’s a bit sharper. Something that sets Brock’s teeth on edge. “Or maybe I’ll say you’re a damn fool who forgot how to dance.”

“Yeah, you could.”

“Or maybe I’ll say -” Jose suddenly stops talking. Brock hears him rummaging around, hears some sort of movement in the background.  And then there’s silence.

“Hey. You good?” Brock asks after the silence goes on too long.  

He’s only a little concerned that Jose may have passed out, when Jose breathes a quiet laugh in response.

“So good, boo, you got no idea. Just - livin’ my best life. You know, walkin’ backwards.” There’s something tragic in his tone, and then more movement. “Brock -” 

The way he says the name sounds urgent, but then it trails off into nothing. Brock waits for the rest of it.   Waits.  

“Yes?”

“What? Nah, I jus’ like sayin’ your name. Brock.  Brooke. I like ‘em both.” Jose makes an odd choked sound on the other end of the line. “What you doin’ now?”

“Taking off my face. I was working tonight.”

“You get those dollar bills, mama?”

“Of course I did.”

“You got anyone there with you?”  

There’s an intensity in the question that makes Brock hesitate.  

“Anyone as fine as me?” Jose continues, and Brock’s mouth goes a bit dry.  

“No.” He swallows. “Um. Do you?”

“Fuck no. Who’d that be? Ain’t no one -” Jose cuts himself off, and Brock feels something rising inside him, a wave of wanting that started at the first rasp of Jose’s voice on the line.  “That damn lip sync of yours is still all over my pages.”

“Yeah?” ” Brock doesn’t know where this conversation is going, but something feels - too intense.  Too desperate. His heart beats against his chest a bit too hard.

Jose whistles. “Been playing it on repeat just to look at Yvie’s ass.”

“Bitch.” Brock grins, even though he’s starting to feel all blurry around the edges. “I knew it.”

“But damn, girl, you were fine as hell. I remember thinkin’ - watching you dance -”

Heat rises to Brock’s face.  Jose is drunk, there’s no way he would be saying any of this otherwise.

“- like how the fuck did she somehow - how did she end up -”

There is a feeling like electricity running over Brock’s skin and under it.  Through his bones, his veins. He can’t say anything in reply.

“ - with me? Like I get to to look at her, and fucking - kiss her -”

“Jose -”

“Wish I could see you now.  Miss your stupid face, your fucking hands.  I miss your mouth -”

“Jesus,” Brock gasps.  This is not how he thought this was going to go. “I miss you too.”

“Don’t - you don’t gotta talk none, just let me okay? Just let me.” Jose’s breathing is heavy, and there’s another sound like rustling fabric. “Gotta take my shirt off.”

“Jesus,” Brock says again, sweat breaking out over his neck, his chest.  This can’t actually be happening.  He hasn’t had anything but water and energy drinks tonight, he’s not - prepared. He’s entirely too sober.  He’s going to do something stupid, say something -

“You think about me?” Jose continues, voice rough. “You want me?”

What could it hurt to be honest? For fucking once, Brock. “Fuck yes. All the -”

“I think about you, about riding you.  Bet you would fuck like you dance, hey? So damn pretty.  Are you touching yourself?”

Brock wants to but he isn’t, doesn’t know the rules here. He’s hard in his sweatpants, and his free hand has started to travel down his abdomen, trace the fine hairs below his bellybutton.

“I am,” Jose gasps, “Brock, baby - please -”

“Oh my god.” Brock closes his eyes, imagining Jose on some shitty hotel bed, shirt off, pants undone. It’s like he’s there, right in front of him, almost close enough to touch. Brock can smell his sweat, smell his cologne, wants to drag his tongue up the crease between his hip and his thigh. His hand slips beneath his waistband and he - his body wants this, but the rest of him feels -

“Get off for me, baby,” Jose’s voice breaks. “I wanna hear what you sound like, wanna hear you -”

Brock strokes himself, feeling a bit like he’s having an out-of-body experience. He’s never done this before - sent the odd pic, but never - nothing like this. His body feels overheated, every inch of his skin is sensitive. Goosebumps are rising all over his shoulders, and his cock is so wet, like he’s already there, seconds away.  He can only hear Jose’s rasping breaths on the other line, a rhythm that’s rising. Brock wishes he could see him. Touch him.  

“If you were here - fuck,” Jose moans into the phone, “I’d let you do anything you wanted, let you -”

Brock’s hand is speeding up, his hips making tiny thrusting movements into his fist.  He drops his head back against the couch, lets Jose’s voice wrap him up in rough silk.

“ - touch me all over.  Those big hands of yours, I been thinking about them. Want your fingers in my mouth.”

“Jose -”

“I wish you were touchin’ me right now, wish it was your hand. I’m so close just - oh fuck, fuck I’m -”

Brock recognizes the sounds that follow. Recognizes them from that one night in the hotel room during Drag Race, his mouth between Jose’s legs, his hands everywhere and lit up from the inside like all his bones were matches. 

He can see Jose’s back arching from behind his closed eyes and it’s too sweet, too much. Brock’s voice breaks as a strangled, foreign sound forces its way out of his chest. He can still taste Jose in his mouth, and the memory brings everything to a crescendo.  Suddenly Brock is coming in his hand, and he doesn’t know how it happened so fast but it’s been so long and Jose’s voice and his laugh and oh Christ, oh my God, oh - 

He trembles as he strokes himself through it, breathing like he’s just run a marathon. There is silence on the other line and Brock drops his head, doesn’t move. 

He tries to catch his breath, sticky and uncomfortable and boneless with longing. His knee throbs and he realizes that at some point the ice pack slid onto the floor. 

This was not what he envisioned when he thought about his first time getting off with Jose. (But what had he envisioned? Rose petals and champagne? Had there been an ending anywhere in sight or was it just about the show and the rest of the timeline was blank? Had he thought about it, or had it just been a fucking dream?)

Brock’s almost afraid to say anything, break the silence.  What does this mean for them - anything at all?  After everything that’s happened, is there a reason to think this matters? Or is it just something that Jose does on the daily when he’s buzzed and lonely?

“Jose?”

There is no answer.  Brock can hear slow breathing, just barely, on the other line. 

“Have you fallen the fuck asleep?” he says, a bit louder. Nothing.

Unbelievable. Brock would laugh if he wasn’t afraid he’d start crying. He says Jose’s name a couple more times, only to get mumbling in response (and a frankly adorable snore but don’t let anyone know he said that.) 

Jesus Christ.  He feels like an idiot. He feels - feels - 

(“Now the real reason I keep kissing you,” Brooke’s heart is beating like a kickdrum in her chest, be cool, be cool for once, “is to get you to shut the fuck up.”

Vanessa’s smile in response is something to write songs about. It’s shy and proud and embarrassed and everything that always seems to smack Brooke in the face, knock her to the ground. 

“I’ll take that.” Vanjie tilts her head and Brooke forgets all the reasons that she wanted to slow things down, forgets how to count money and block out her eyebrows, forgets the name of her first grade teacher and the smell of her hometown. Forgets why she’s even in this competition, and that - that’s a huge fucking problem.)

“Night, boo,” Brock says to the universe, before he hangs up. He finishes taking off his face, and gets in the shower, and tries not to think about it. Tries not to think about the water running over his skin the way he wishes Jose’s fingers would. Tries not to remember anything about tonight, lets his mind go blank and blissful. Lets his body take over, go through the motions of drying itself off, and dressing itself up, and swooning into bed.

The text he’s expecting comes the next morning (well, morning for drag queens so around noon.)

“Sorry bout last night i was white girl wasted”

“Brock im so so sorry shit im stupid”

“next time i call you late don’t answer :(”

Brock doesn’t text back. 

* * *

And the music plays.

“Oh why can I not conquer love?”

Brooke moves the way she’s born to, feeling each beat of the song in the bones of her hips.  She’s a fucking performer, this is what she does. She tries to focus on making eye contact with Ru, with Michelle, tries to command the stage and dare them not to want her. She glances over to see Vanjie more than matching her, hitting each beat of the music with a punch. 

Brooke looks away before she can get distracted, crossing the stage and posing where the lights hit her just right. She spins, she stretches, she waits for the moment to make her move.

“And I might have thought you’d be the one..”

Brooke glances over at Vanjie again. Girl has dropped to her knees and is crawling across the floor, back arched like a cat. Her skin shines, perpetually glittery, and Brooke can remember the taste of her tongue, the sweet pressure of her mouth.

And then Vanessa rises to her knees, tilts her head toward the stage lights. Brooke’s about to look away (FOCUS) but before she can - 

- she sees a tear runs down Vanessa’s face. 

Just one.  

Black with mascara. Delicate as a line of calligraphy. 

Brooke snaps her head forward.  She doesn’t - she can’t - she won’t think about that right now, she’s not hear to think about that. She’s a drag queen and this is a fucking competition and she came here to win it.

She listens to the music, and it swells, it swells.  Sia’s voice crescendoes and Brooke takes a breath, prepares to slide into the splits and then -

(Once upon a time, in a small Canadian town, there was a boy who wanted to be a dancer.  

He was late to start but he worked harder than the other students, practiced longer.  This boy had a dance teacher, and even though he worked harder and practiced longer, his teacher did not like him. She only saw his flaws, and saw them often.  She was constantly finding something to criticize - the height of his jumps, the strength of his arms.  And though the years passed and the boy learned to dance and dance well, his teacher did not change. She was never satisfied.

When the boy left the small Canadian town at last, at long last, he asked his teacher why.  She waited for a moment before she replied. 

“You dance with your head. Your head is in control of your performance. Technically you have the skills, but a truly great dancer must listen to their body.  Listen to their heart.”

The boy left the small Canadian town, and kept dancing.  And he listened to his head, and he built walls made of brick and stone, and he never looked back.)

Brooke takes a breath, prepares to slide into the splits and then -

She doesn’t move.

NO 

It’s not even a decision, it’s just a moment and the moment is gone. And it’s - fine, Brooke’s a dancer, she can turn it the fuck out, it’s not too late. She can - she’ll just - Brooke spins into the music, prepares to fall flat into a death drop in time with the beat and then.  

And then she doesn’t.

NO NO 

Her body is not moving.  Her movements are stopping (there was a tear on Vanessa’s face, it was black like ink.) 

DON’T DON’T YOU’RE THROWING IT WHAT THE FUCK ARE 

Brooke can’t get enough air, sees fireworks across her vision. It’s not too late, she just has to - move, she has to -

But she doesn’t. She slowly comes to a stop on stage. Why isn’t she moving? What is happening? She can’t even look at the judges, can’t meet their eyes. She clenches her hands into fists, the possibility of winning this moving farther and farther, waves carrying it beyond her reach. 

“You won’t see me fall apart.”

And then all of sudden, Vanjie realizes what’s going on.  Out of the corner of her eye, Brooke sees Vanjie stiffen. It’s like a stutter in her heartbeat, and Brooke can’t help but turn to look at her. She sees Vanessa’s wide, dark eyes, sees her give a horrified little shake of her head, ‘no’.  

Vanjie doesn’t stop dancing, though, and Brooke stands in one place, staring at her, trying to breathe. Vanessa finishes the song with her signature twisty death drop, arching off the floor with her hand out-stretched (“That’s a star, right?”) as Sia half-whispers half-sings the last line.

“I’ve got an elastic heart.”

When it ends, Brooke is shaking.  

Her hands are trembling so much she has to hold them behind her back so nobody notices and calls for a medic. There are applause from the judges but Vanessa is not smiling.  A smudged tear-track still lingers on her cheek.  

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WHAT DID YOU

“Vanessa Vanjie Mateo,” Ru says, not even taking a moment to think it over. “Shantay you stay.”

Brooke hears cheering from Silky and A’Keria, and she nods.  The sounds seem to be coming from somewhere far away, another room.

Vanjie releases a shaky breath, whispers, “Thank you so much” (barely audible, voice breaking) and then is suddenly crossing the stage and in Brooke’s arms. Brooke can’t speak, can’t understand what’s happening, can only hold Vanessa like the world is ending, breathe in the smell of her skin like it might be the last time she gets to. 

She doesn’t know what to say.  She doesn’t know how to let her go.

“Brooke -” Vanjie is shaking like a leaf, pulse racing.

“You -” Brooke searches for words but they scatter like ashes. So she says the only thing she can remember.  “- you want a ring or some shit?” 

Vanjie pulls back, eyes flooding with tears. 

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.” Ru’s voice makes them split apart and the absence of Vanjie in her arms is like a broken bone. 

Brooke tries to get it together. Tries to remember who she was before this whole mess started.  She’s Brooke Lynn Hytes, she was Miss fucking Continental, damn it, she had a plan -

She doesn’t remember how she gets offstage. Ru says something in parting, and she smiles and plays the grateful queen, and as she passes the girls Yvie grabs her, hisses “What the fuck did you -” but it’s all like moving underwater. Somehow Brooke’s back in the werkroom.  Somehow Brooke’s staring shell-shocked into the camera, holding the statuette in her hand.

“Brooke,” a producer keeps repeating, “Brooke, do you need a minute? Are you ready? Brooke, are you okay? Can someone get her some water?”

She blinks, stupidly. 

“I’m - in love with him,” she says to herself.

As soon as she says it, it’s like a bomb going off.  There’s a ringing in her ears, and her mouth tastes like honey and thorns. How can this be possible? The werkroom looks the same, Brooke’s hands and arms are the same shape, but that doesn’t make sense. The whole world should be a different colour if Brooke is in love. There should be fish swimming through the walls. 

Everything should be changed in the wake of this earthquake.

“Oh my god.” Brooke looks at the camera with wide, horrified eyes. “I love him.”

That’s when she remembers she’s on television.

[keptmanners]

FILL IN THE QUESTIONS/STATEMENT AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE

TAG 10 PEOPLE TO DO THIS MEME, (REPOST, DON’T REBLOG)

TAGGED BY: no one

TAGGING: anyone who wants to do this

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?   Ruby Buchanan

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? Ruby Buchanan

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT? It’s what my parents liked.

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?  That’s funny.

5. HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS?  I guess. Dunno if I’d call them ‘powers’ though.

6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE/GARY STU. ... What...?

7. WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR? Blue

8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR? Copper red

9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? Yes, next question.

10. OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS? I had two collies -- Lassie 'n Charlie -- an' two horses Cookies 'n Cream. My parents owned a ranch if that tells you anythin’. Nowadays I jus’ have Rosie.

11. THAT’S COOL I GUESS, NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.   A person with no manners.

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING? I’ve always loved gardenin’. Used t’ like huntin’ with my ol’ man ‘n horseback ridin’. An’ I guess it’s not really a hobby or an activity, but I like takin’ care ‘a people, too.

13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? Yes.

14. EVER… KILLED ANYONE BEFORE? Do walkers count?

15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? 'Cordin’ t’ some ‘a the kids aroun’ here I’mma ‘Tasmanian Devil’.”

16. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. I dunno... I guess I’m too bossy, hotheaded, an’ stubborn. I let li’l things bother me too much sometimes, an' I know I’m too emotional fer my own good, but I can’t help it.

17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL? I used t’ look up to Ms. Martin... And Marlon... But now... I dunno...

18. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? I guess I haven’t...really given it much thought. I jus’ know that I like who I like.

19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? Not anymore.

20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY? I... I really wish that were still a possibility.

21. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS? Very doubtful.

22. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? Lotsa things to be afraid of out there...

23. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? At this point, it’s really whatever fits.

24. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? 'Course I do...

25. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF? What kind of question is this?

26. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS) Used t’ be somewhere between middle ‘n low, I think. Nowadays it’s definitely ‘low’.

27. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? A handful.

28. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? I’d really love t’ have some right about now...

29. FAVORITE DRINK? Sweet iced tea, but hot chocolate is a close second!

30. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE? The greenhouse.

31. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? ... That’s personal!

32. WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY? Inappropriate question!

33. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? I’d rather not go swimming at all, but... I do like the beach...

34. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? Well... features wise... I’ve always loved dark hair an' eyes... And someone who’s taller than me, though, that’s not really hard t’ be. As far as personality goes... Someone’s who’s smart an' respectful an' jus'...makes me happy. I jus’ want t’ be with someone who I can talk to about anythin’ an’ who listens an’ who’ll love me an’ make me feel loved.

35. ANY FETISHES? Gross.

36. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE? Why do you keep on askin’ inappropriate stuff?

37. CAMPING OR INDOORS? I’ve always loved campin’!

38. ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END? Well... I was wonderin’ when it was gonna...

[demonslayvr]

“Goodbye”

meme | selectively accepting /  dante’s died  ;  send  “  goodbye  “  for a final letter / recording that he left behind

                >> 🔥 SHE’D RECEIVED THE RECORDING A COUPLE WEEKS AFTER THE CONFIRMATION.    the devil hadn’t simply jumped into hell like the last time  ;   he’d been found off the beaten path,  worse for wear and not in any stage of healing.  he was dead.  dead and gone with no earthly hope of getting him back.  his form hadn’t become like his twins had way back when   ;   which brought a state of confusion.  a semblance of hope but it wasn’t to lead to anything.  hope turned to despair when personal effects had been found in dante’s safe and a series of cassettes had been found.

he had known he was to die.  how he knew he didn’t explain but he knew.  he had been running for so long now but it was time.  not much he could do.  estelle’s cassette had been partially damaged,  as were the others but   . .  it still worked with bits missing. 

               ❝        ———    thanks fer being there for me when i needed someone t’ drink with.   t’ talk ‘bout my shit 'n mess over the years.  yer dad gave me a lot,  helped me more than he could ever realize 'n its been th’ same for you.   ya gave yer time ‘n money when i asked fer th’ strongest shit y’had.  i tried t’ pay y’back sometimes but y’know.  y’didn’ always want it from me,  y’offered ‘n did just as much as yer pops did t’ try ‘n keep me outta trouble.  it didn’ always work out but y’know.  y’tried.          ❞  he snorts,  tone sounding   TIRED   and at the end of its rope as he cleared his throat.  he’d been up for nights on end on the end of the life he had led,  having gone to get drinks almost every night  –  passing out on the counter of her bartop.  

               ❝          this is goodbye ‘n y’know how shit i am at these.  i shouldn’ have t’ do this but i dunno.  things happen.  surprises bury in ‘n make things shit.  i don’t wanna leave without wordin’ this but.  y’ain’t bad y’know.  i know yer scared’ve yerself ‘cuz of yer blood.  ‘n  . .  ‘n y’shouldn’ be   ——  this life ain’t long enough t’ be scared of yerself.  trust me.  jus’ live s’more,  do what ya’ve always wanted t’ do.  be careful fer sure but ya’ve got this,  est.   ‘m sorry i couldn’ be ‘round t’ help ya more.          ❞

[enchantment1385]

OC Interview Meme

I was tagged by the gorgorgus @heraldofwho , the great @dickeybbqpit and the wonderful @dinah-myles  Thank you, you darling people! 

1. What is your name? I will answer to, Commander smexy, Captain awesome, “Oi!”, or begrudgingly  Hero of Ferelden... I bet if i’d made Alistair king he’d have given me a better bloody name... 

2. What is your real name? Jereth Amell... I have a middle name too... But the blight will take me before I tell you what it is.

3. Do you know why you were called that?  Not a bloody clue. 

4. Are you single or taken? I’m banging the divine. He says while doing finger guns.

5. Have any abilities or powers? You have HEARD of me, right? I killed a dragon! And not just any old dragon, a mind controlling, blight infested, BIG bastard! Makers shiny arse, I was sore after that fight... Sodding thing fell on me when I poked it with the sword!

6. Stop being a Mary Sue If that’s code for ‘awesome’, that’s just plain impossible I’m afraid. 

7. What’s your eye colour? He goes cross eyed trying to look at his own eyes. Well, they were blue, but this many years after my genlock cocktail, they’re a bit grey... But I’m gonna fix that! ... I think...

8. How about your hair colour? Are you saying I’m going grey?! Cause... That’s just some dead stuff that didn’t wash out last time... 

9. Have you any family members? Got mum and dad, but I haven’t seen them in years though. Bastard templars swooped me off to the circle when I was a kid, see?  Oh! And apparently the bloke who became Kirkwall’s champion is my cousin!  Ha! Small bloody world, huh? I bet the chanty are shitting their small clothes over 2 mages saving their ass--- Oohhh.... Jus .... Just scratch out that last bit...

10. Oh? What about pets? Unfortunately, we lost Barkspawn a few years back. Gotta say that was a bad day. We all ended up getting trashed at the keep and playing fetch while we cried. It was surprisingly soothing. Good news is I recently got, Gen. Blightballs! He’s a good boy. 

11. That’s 🆒 I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like. Spiders, morrigan, the blight, morrigan, caves, morrigan, the cold, too much heat, The fucking deeproads, morrigan, making decisions, walking, hills, bastard trees that don’t do poetry, most Templars, spells backfiring, stepping in dog shit, annnnnd cauliflower. He takes a sip of drink.  To be fair, morrigan ain’t all bad... She’s just a very special type of psycho. 

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?   Uuuuuhhhhhhh.... He looks totally confused and scratches his chin. You know what they don’t tell you when you join the wardens, apart from EVERYTHING?  No one ever mentions how becoming a warden will destroy life’s simple pleasures, like sleep for instance. I used to like a good kip, but now, not so bloody much. Imagine the most bloody weird cheese induced dream you’ve ever had and magnify that shit by infinity and you’re close to an average night.  Food is still good, so I guess eating? And playing with Blightballs, of course. 

13. Ever hurt anyone before? Can I count myself? Because if so, definitely. Regularly even. 

14. Ever… killed anyone before? Oh, probably. I don’t really pay much too much attention in fights if I’m honest.  I find if I don’t even know my own tactics, no enemy can find a weakness when they fight me either.

15. What kind of animal are you? A mabari! I’m strong, proud, cute, and I occasionally piss up against a wall. 

16. Name your worst habits. Personally, I’d say none, Nate doesn’t like it when I name my belly button lint , especially at dinner, but he can be a real bloody killjoy at times. 

17. Do you look up to anyone at all? Sten? I had to look up to him. He was a right big bugger. And Shale too. 

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual? I like to bury my head in breasts... So straight, i guess... But if men had boobs, I could be swayed... possibly. *nods*

19. Do you go to school? They shoved me in the circle who... Tried to teach us some stuff?

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day? I got a kid...Apparently... Morrigan buggered off through a mirror. Sigh. Then all of a sudden in MY fault for going missing! I’m not missing! I know exactly where I am!

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls? Hero. Of. Ferelden, dude. What do you think?  Of course, I haven’t let any of that go to my head... I was already handsome and charming. 

22. What are you most 😨 of? Pfftt. Blight spiders? Ghost wizards? Ghost spider wizards of blight? 

23. What do you usually wear? The same bloody thing I’ve been wearing for a decade now. So bored of mages armour. I suggested something a bit more fancy, but they others didn’t go for it. I guess I do love the shiny griffon though. I’ve named mine. 

24. Do you 💛 someone?  Yup.

25. When was the last time you wet yourself? What day is it today?

26. Well, it’s not over yet! Why do the good things in life never go on and on like this... *drags hands down his face.* 

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class) I’m chaos class. Yeahhh. Take that. *folds arms and looks smug*

28. How many friends do you have? I dunno... I never counted them? Was... Was that required?

29. What are your thoughts on pie? Fuck - Yes. More pie! Pie for everyone! Hero of pie day! 

30. Favourite drink? Whatever that stuff that Anders and Oghren cooked up a few years back. We called it - The kick in the tit.  .... We were all still suffering the after images of the ‘mother’ and her many, MANY nipples. The name seemed fitting. 

31. What’s your favourite place? In a tavern, with ann ale in hand, in front of a fire, with my head shoved between a pair of boobs. 

32. Are you interested in someone? Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t listening. I was still back at the tavern...

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy? Huge and girthy of course! I’m a living legend. 

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean? None. I jumped the out the window a few times in the tower to avoid the pissed off Templars who I’d spent a week winding up, so I’m done swimming in sodding lakes for one lifetime!  And have you seen the ocean? Do you have ANY idea about what crazy shit live in there? Cause 10 years ago I’d have put money on the fact Big ass dragon didn’t live underground. But I’d have been wrong, and then I would have lost 20 silver to my fellow warden. ... What was the question, again?

35. What’s your type? When I was single? The ones who said yes.

36. Any fetishes? The thing with the pirate wench and Leliana was pretty much it. *happy sigh* It’s good to be me. 

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive? I do whatever Leliana wants, because I’m scared I won’t wake up the next morning otherwise. 

38. Camping or indoors? Indoors.  When I’m done on this trip I’m burning every sodding tent I ever see. I am DONE sleeping on the floor. 

39. Are you wanting the interview to end? Yes, I’ve eaten the free biscuits you gave me and I need a piss. Sorry - pee. 

40. Now it’s over! Great... Which way to the latrine? 

Tagging: @keeperscompanionsdai @dreadhobo @goldfishfiasco @sassylavellen @gugle1980 @fade-footprints @tessa1972 @john-cousland @ielmoe @inquisitorsmabari @long-liv-prairies

[strawberista]

⚅ — @lollipopsandgunshots​ asked: — ⚅

⚅ — 📰 {your choice on muse!} — ⚅

Muse Answers Questions Meme

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

⚀ What is their name?:

“Uzuki Yashiro and Koki Kariya,” he hummed. “Quite the pair, those two.”

⚁ Relationship with them?:

He shrugged, “Not mucha one, yet. I keep an eye on ‘em as Producer and for report purposes, but when it comes to personal relations, I haven’t really had much of a chance to get to know ‘em yet. Still gettin’ things off the ground. Though, I admit that they do seem to trust me a little better than the average Joe, Yashiro especially. The secret I keep for her is of the utmost importance.”

⚂ What do you view them as? (family,friend,other):

”I’d like to think of ‘em as my friends. How far that goes I guess we’ll hafta see. But I like ‘em a lot. Those two have really proven their metal over the years, and they both got real interestin’ music. Let’s see if I can get ‘em to call me their friend later down the road an’ I’ll update ya then.”

⚃ Do you feel attracted to them in any way?:

”Aesthetically speaking, their both handsome folks. And they look good together. I don’t think I could ever be attracted to them any other way than that, though. Nor would I want to, since I know they’re, uh, occupied with each other, y’know. Not my place.”

⚄ What’s one thing you’d like to do with them?:

He chuckled, “Oh, I dunno. Most’a what I’d like to see is just between them. Maybe attend their wedding~” A laugh, more hearty this time. “But hey, you can’t rush that sorta thing. On a more personal level, maybe jus’ go out an’ have a nice lunch. Really get a chance to get to know ‘em and establish a real friendship. I don’t think that much is askin’ too much.”

⚅ Tell us one memory you have with them.:

”Honestly? The only real memory I have of ‘em is our first meeting, officially. Gettin’ in the way of ‘em tryin’ to scam poor Phones. I’d say I was annoyed that they were tryin’ to break the rules, but in all honestly I was kinda impressed. I thought it was pretty gutsy of miss Yashiro to pull a stunt like that. And anyway, it worked to my advantage. Gave me a pretty organic way to introduce Neku an’ Miss Shiki to the concept of teamwork and the fusion pin. So, honestly, it’s a pretty good memory.”

⚅⚀ Anything you’d like to ask them or state to them? If so, say it now, please!:

He narrowed his eyes in thought, “Well, they both need different things. I’d tell Yashiro to put more faith in her partner and let ‘im help her more often. Even though it’s pretty clear that she’s come a long way, I think there are still some important parts of her that she’s keepin’ to herself. And as dangerous as our secret is, I feel like he should be allowed to know, to be allowed to be there for ‘er. As for him, I would tell ‘im not to worry so much. It sounds like a strange message for that one, but the concerns he holds regarding her are gonna drive ‘im crazy if he lets ‘em. He needs to let himself live a little and take the moment for ‘imself. Well, I don’t know that they’d be open to that kind’f advice right now, though. Like I said, they don’t trust me quite as much as I’d like ‘em to.”