#i love you devils but take that thing outta here

[hoodienanami]

garageland from the clash's first album would be a perfect song if the guy with the harmonica would just shut the hell up

[oompaloompadidu]

What about Dazai having a fetish for women who have a powerful aura and who are older than him? By the way, the reader is one of these types of women

hiii! I literally LOVED writing this, thanks for the request!

It also took me a while even if it's kinda short but English is not my first language so...

HOPE YOU LIKE IT

UwU you literally read my mind, I too think he has a fetish for women like that~

𝕮𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍✮⋆˙

You work for the Ada since almost seven months. Since you joined the agency, he couldn't stop thinking about you, he watched you when he thought you didn't see him, he admired you from far away. The way you walked, as if every room you walked in was yours, your eyes, those damn eyes of your that looked so tender and yet so cruel at the same time. He would drown in those eyes. He would stare at them for hours without even realizing it. He got to go on missions with you, and the thing he most like is that you're so incredibly different from everyone else he knows. No one would react like you do. No one thinks like you do. He loves going on mission with you, he feels so small when he sees you smiling at the enemies, a smile he would never want to receive, not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 smile of yours. He knows that when he sees it you're most likely going to kick the shit outta them, and he loves it. He loves seeing how strong you are, how you don't care how far you go once you're 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 angry. He sees a small resemblance, between the two of you, even if you never said it (after all, why should you?) he somehow knows you must be or have been in pain too. Like him. He never felt like someone, he never even though he could meet a woman who was even slightly like him. But you were. You were not desperate as he is, he's perfectly aware of that, and somehow the fact that you're not even if you're living the same situation he is only makes him more attracted to you. He saw so many things about you, and he was so convinced a woman as strong as independent as you would never, never ever like him. Why should you like him after all? What could he offer you that you didn't have already? What does he have that you could 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦? Nothing. He spent so many days since you joined the ada about what he could give you to get your attention, but he only came to the conclusion he could never reach your level. After all, you're the devil. You're devil for him. You're dangerous, cruel, beautiful, sweet as an angel could be. So you must be the devil. You'll be the poison he will happily drown himself in, forever.

You two just finished a mission, as always he almost didn't need to do anything. You were a genius, a monster when it came to fighting skills, so 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 he didn't have to do anything.

"I'm cold."

He blink and turns to look at you. He was definitely caught off guard when he heard you saying that you were 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥. Your hands were covered of blood, keeping the documents in a strong grip. Yes, he knows Kunikida and the President won't be happy about how you got the information needed, but he... He loved it. He adored it, you. He realizes he wasn't answering and blink again, shaking his head to go back to reality "ah... take my coat" he puts the light brown coat on your shoulders, watching as it almost touches the ground (it's way too long for you).

"won't you be cold, though?"

And here again. Your voice. Your eyes. You were asking if 𝘩𝘦 was going to be good, you were worried for him... With that sweet voice that he makes him flutter every time, even if he knows it's part of your weapon. "...me? No. No, I'll be fine."

"Dazai-san"

He feels his heart exploding, it may seem weird but you actually never called him by his name "yes?" He answered instantly, probably looking like a pathetic idiot waiting for you to call him

"humanity is overrated."

"...eh?" He looks at you with a dumbfounded expression, totally confused. "What does that even mean?"

"why, don't you get it?"

Again. Why. Why do you have to say such weird thins and think he'll understand. He's not a damn genius as you are. "I don't understand..."

"I see. I was just thinking, that being human is not such a thing to crave"

He blinks. 𝘖𝘩. 𝘖𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘵. "You say so?"

"I do."

He nods "hm. Maybe I can say so too." There are a few minutes of silence, then he turns around to look into your eyes. Ah, if he could swing in those eyes. For him, they seem the universe. So deep, so beautiful, so different every time, so many stars you can admire..

"Y/n."

"yes?"

"... I...."

There are a few moments of silence, then his voice again

"even if you asked the most terrible thing.... I would do anything you wish me to."

He feels his heart dropping when you don't reply and keep a straight face. Did he go to far?... Shouldn't he have said it?...

"I see."

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯? Is it good? Did you accept...?

He freeze when you lean on his shoulder and press your forehead against his. Damn. He feels his heart clenching so hard it could stop to beat, but somehow it was beating stronger than it ever did. He was happy. He was, for the first time in his life, he felt something. Thanks to you. He had experience with women before you, but God knows he never loved any. He could not feel anything at all, for no one, for nothing. Now he wants you to keep making him feel things, as if he was just a child. Because he is, he feels like he child when he's with you, a feeling he never managed to get... As if you were his savior, always, forever, even if he knows he's probably just attracted to a devil. But the Devil is an angel too.

"I love you..."

"I know."

[neonfretra]

does anyone want to discuss hrpf outside of shipping + written fic context . because i think about where what i do sits in relation to it all

for brevity i will be referring to the real person as the player and the fictionalized interpretation of the player as the character

to get things outta the way, i dont think theres very much you can say about real life people before you start crossin into real person fiction (rpf) territory LOL

transformative art is rpf. speculation is rpf. narratives is rpf. the second you start steppin away from a direct relay of the facts as is, we gettin in ficticious waters IMO. its really a neutral thing to me and my ethics begin and end at "dont show people who dont wanna see"

and its real funny to think about how i do art just because it feels like i set up way less barriers compared to people who DO write fic . i see all this talk about making sure you make your stuff login exclusive, about not sharin it to the people involved, disclaimers about how its in fact NOT a reflection of reality that your favorite athlete is mpregnant and YOU are are mfather.

and i just hit post and call it a day LOL

TO BE CLEAR there is definitely layers to it in the sense that i see similar amounts of caution with say ship art or certain degrees of raunch.

shipping in the rpf scene is funny to me in the sense of the tendency to treat shipping as THE exclusive rpf thing. like no i dont think my tomas tatar fanart is 1:1 on the reality front either. for example, nj devils hairline is not that far back and thags the only inaccuracy.

heres the kicker: mmy foot.

most of my doodles tend to evoke a degree of characterization or narrative. yeag maybe its a little less 30k slowburn and a little more fabian zetterlund shot putting a man but. that is fictional, that is a character

im not saying that rpf defines players more than the reality of them does but i do believe it does enforce certain views

in the spaces i hang around ive noticed the narrativization around certain characters being part fueled by the information that is filtered by reporters and part interpretations bounced back and forth by fandom . and when you have eyes on a story, its easy to pick out information solely as it agrees with you

maybe the most prominent narrative ive seen for the sharks has been macklin celebrini having a jock dad -> therefore he got daddy issues, joe thornton houses him -> therefore mentor and father figure joe thornton? where even though i havent seen any direct relay of information from any players (though ivent been looking LOL) a lot of the discussion around it revolves around this common understanding that it just is (the funnier part is arguably that will smith hockey has been doing more for this narrative for patrick marleau BUT NEITHER HERE NOR THERE.)

and its really interesting to note HOW fandom warps or weaves the story by going off common tropes or dynamics to make sense of the public facing parts we do see, which is what i think is magnified through the lens of fanworks but not (necessarily) CREATED by fanworks

which is where i feel my work is part of the. ecosystem??? life cycle??? and then we all return to the dirt and the worms eat us???

how much or how little we define the gap between player and character changes from person to person. i simply do not have that goin on here. devin cooley eats joey daccords hair take it or leave it. annnnd main tag that

other times i feel we wear the divide thin are when there is headcanon that uses facts about the player (ie a lot of ship talk) or when the character becomes the kneejerk understanding of the player (ie liveblogs. very fun way to get a read of a communitys feelings on something because of how immediate the reactions on it are)

the point of this post isnt to shame or interrogate people about participating in rpf, im not looking for those sort of feelings, im fascinated by fandom culture as a twig off the old branch and i would love to hear other perspectives on the same topic (and different communities! i dont have much involvement in fic. which is. a massive hole in my perspective on this probably)

is it possible to cross the line from rpf to plain old original content LOL (the answer is intent i know but. walk with me here its fun to think about)

naturally theres a degree of "original character" to every depiction . you gotta make up some amount of it. theres no clear separation OF rpf and original content because everything is about borrowing. you make characters with inspiration from other things. its near enough universal for someone who deals with characters to have at some point lifted a character directly out of their original context and made them their own.

its not just their face or name or some other physical attribute that makes it rpf id also argue because i have seen people using attributes of real people as "claims" for origubal characters (like a "faceclaim" to say "this is how i imagine my character to look")

on top of that there is fluctuating interest on actually depicting the player, with approaches that i have heard of ranging from "character that shares the quantitative aspects of the player and thats IT" to "character that was made heavily referencing to things the player has said/done"

its interesting when certain players in rpf have a consistent character! which trends to be in teams with a more active rpf oriented fanbase (vs interest mainly in the real life hockey played), comparing the fandom of kraken to the golden knights on tumblr for instance. its also interesting to note that more popular teams just have more rpf centric leans. because there are more people to write rpf. i mean also we are on a fandom centric site and rpf bridges that gap from narrative/character fueled media and sportsball more LOL

(if you like sports from a purely sports oriented angle do you enjoy watching it? genuine question. because at what point is it "i could just be doing this myself" because ive hit that point with other things before LMAO)

i do call the difference being more "fandom" oriented but IDK if thats correctly using the word or just less syllables. and on top of that i cant exactly tell you if its popularity or stand out personality that holds more sway. though then again i guess those two traits arent separate from each other necessarily. or even that those are the only two factors to broad appeal (probably popularity with another player is up there. but im not trying to find a formula for most attractive to make rpf of)

to return to the kraken because that is the most rpf oriented team i follow, i do notice when players portrayed consistently. i can definitely tell you like. one or two character traits about players i do not follow the media of solely from liveblogs and art. complexity of the character varies by a lot, though i do think its interesting to consider the hows and whys.

a trait or interest being highlighted by media (i tend to see this in offical media coverage that gets spread by jokes) -> the character heavily revolves around this feature in jokes or casual reference, with heavy personal interpretation

media pushing a narrative by following a more cohesive timeline or story structure (i usually see this in fanworks. easier to identify the influence of IMO) -> fairly consistent character backstory or , at least in the broad strokes of it

just general agreements about tropes that are appealing with little basis on the player -> this is usually the more relationship focused character interpretation

there isnt usually just one factor (and this isnt an exhaustive list of factors) to one characters history. unless its a super new player on the radar.

its definitely a character that belongs to the fandom! as in the unique character to the unique community! its actually really funny how they evolve. you could probably fingerprint someones influences if you tried hard enough. with how new the kraken is (and the fact the fandom leans more towards being united as one body than any other team ive seen so far) it does get pretty easy to get it down to the post but. do your own treasure search. I wont deprive you!

(also its EMBARASSING... what if the people i mention SEE... im SHY...)

harder with an older fandom like the sharks there are so many dead and defunct sources or jokes so widely spread that it gets hard to locate the origin . because dead and defunct sources. though i think its growing a new ring around the fandom tree because of the newer players! so its a thought. to think about how different events influence the size and activity of a fanbase and to ask how different fans from different. eras? of a fanbase interact (or dont).

again i notice this in the sharks fandoms by comparing fans from the playoff contending sharks era (last playoff season was 18-19? start is a little murky but ill toss out that 2012 was the year tomas hertl was drafted because tomas hertl was an era of the sharks LOL a whole 12 years! i know people younger than his professional career and those people are catching up to me in height. humbling!) and fans from when the sharks were very much not playoff contending (quite an amount of the current active fans LOL). not sure if theres much to say without looking stupid. different jokes, notable players, friend groups, feelings towards other teams. all still feel very strongly about general manager mike grier scattering players like dandellion seeds to the wind.

(AGAIN. HOPING NO SHARKS FANS NOTICE THIS. IM SHY)

how many sharks fans havent seen logan couture on ice

again i am saying all this as someone who ACTIVELY participates in this BTW!!! does anyone notice that players i dont know definitely have a flatter "whatever is the funniest thing to say" angle . or that characters of players i know a few things about have like one punchline . or even that certain characters are consistent and not just bound by direct interpretations of one moment (which i do a lot of when im liveblogging) (dont get your hopes up for anything new here, the character usually is "pathetic and a little bit of a bastard")

i keep writing these disclaimers like. if someone disagreed this strongly they would not be reading this far. hi! is anyone still here. is someone still reading.

i have created life and i dont know to kill it.

i talk about one of my depictions of a player as a separate character (that is to say, a SEPARATE character from the character intended to represent the player) and i have NO idea if this is like. an OC? a defamation case in waiting? my spawn? do i have to pay childcare. does anyone know who or what im talking about or has the character been festering in my mind like an infection.

is it just me???

my advice to you: if you dont want somethin to come back dont give it a name.

consider dissecting your personal and the more widespread fandoms take on players and characters! its fun for me but i also just like taking things apart ^_^ i fear i may not be as analytical as this post demands i do a lot of restating information and thats it

[chaotic-mystery]

Don’t mind me 💆‍♀️ just minding my own business 💆‍♀️ thinking about best friends dad joel 💆‍♀️ flipping my skirt up and fucking the attitude out of me 💆‍♀️ making me call him sir instead of Mr. Miller 💆‍♀️ being mean and condescending, slapping me 💆‍♀️ and then unleashing his praise kink on me at the very end 💆‍♀️ calling me his good girl because I took it so good 💆‍♀️

Don’t mind me 💆‍♀️

Goodness I tried to do this justice bby Everyone say thanks to Kait for helping me set the scene WC:1.6k CW: SMUT OBVI 18+, slapping, spitting, sir kink, rough joel, age gap implied (legal ffs), degrading, names (cumslut, whore, slut, bad girl, angel, darlin, yadda yadda) praise kink at the very end, condescending joel. Tell me if I missed anything & if you liked it! <3

Your closet was no stranger to short skirts and your best friends dad wasn't so slick about checking you out when you wore them to his house to hang out with Sarah. Sure, he didn't mind you wearing them to his house for only him to see and admire, to take a mental photo of for later when he was alone in his bed, but he hated the times you'd come get Sarah and go out wearing them. You messed up this time though when you chose the shortest one you owned. It barely stopped below your ass and you can bet Mr.Miller was the first one to notice when you walked by him earlier and he almost broke his neck trying to get a good look.

As you closed the front door and started walking to the garage where the overhead door was open, the music was getting louder that was coming from the radio inside the garage. You rounded the corner to see Mr.Miller installing something new on the front of his truck, a slight glisten to his skin from sweat. As you finger combed your hair and tugged your skirt down, you had to clear your throat to get his attention. "I'm outta here for the night Mr.Miller, thanks for having me over." He gave you a small smile and a nod as he tossed down the wrench he was toying with, "Don't mention it, sugar. Did ya get enough to eat? Know I don't wanna send you home still hungry." The short sleeves on his t-shirt tightened around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you moved into the garage a few steps, tugging down your skirt again. "Yup, thanks again for cookin', you know I love your food." The radio seemed to get quieter but it was just your mind drowning out anything that wasn't this gorgeous mans voice.

"Can I ask you somethin, angel?" Angel. That's been your nickname since he met you when Sarah brought you home from college, there was no meaning behind it other than it came from Halloween when you were an angel and Sarah dressed up as a devil. "Sure, Mr.Miller, what's up?" You moved a box of broken tools sitting on a stool and set it on the floor, trying to keep your knees together at all times so he didn't see your panties. Of course you wanted him to, just "accidentally".

"Why do you wear those little skirts if you constantly fix them so your ass isn't showin'? Y'know if you're uncomfortable you can jus' take it off." His eyes drifted up your legs as they landed on yours, his fingers not fiddling with the bolt he was previously toying with. It felt like someone reached over and stole all the air from your throat, your entire body freezing. He wasn't going to get the best of you though, not in the slightest. "I happen to love this skirt Mr.Miller, thank you very much." You dropped your feet off the foot rest on the stool so your legs dangled and ran your hand down the small pleats of the skirt. He gave a chuckle and shook his finger at you.

"You aren't foolin' anyone pretty lil thing. I know you need the attention so bad, that's why you wear them to my house so you can get me to look when you walk down the hall, naughty girl. You crave that rush of getting your best friends dad to look at your ass when you bend over." Who did he think he was to call you out for your outfit choices? He had no idea what you wanted or needed. You stood up and started going towards him, raising your hand to connect with his face. He caught your wrist mid-air before it touched his cheek, a smirk on his plush lips.

"Don't think you wanna do that, do you angel?" His hand crept up your face and pinched your cheeks together, making your lips pout slightly. Joel pressed a light kiss on them, and licked your bottom lip ever so softly. "Fine, keep it on I don't mind. Turn around and bend over for me, let me see that pretty little pussy before I tear it up." Your core was shaking and you had to contain your excitement so he didn't know you've been wanting this for years.

"O-okay Mr.Miller" you stuttered and leaned against his truck as he pinned your head down, brushing your hair out of his way. "No more of that shit, call me sir, got it?" his tone was kind of colder now but that didn't stop you from getting turned on. "I got it, yes" you whimpered and grinded your ass against his hardening cock through his jeans. "Repeat it." Joel pulled at your hair and lifted you off the truck just enough to have your ear line up with his lips. You winced at the pain of your hair being pulled, "Yes sir" was all you could muster out.

"Would you look at that, the brat does listen." He smacked your ass roughly before he tore off your panties, ripping them like they were nothing. As he got down on his knees and spread you apart, he admired your glistening sweet folds that were very telling of how much he was turning you on. "Yeah I knew you liked that, my little slut. God damn you're so wet for me already, it's a shame I won't get to taste you. Bad girls don't get their pussy ate." Joel gave your pussy a slap and stood up, unbuckling his belt to drop his pants. "Yes sir" you yelped in response and your knees shook a little at the sting of the slap. No one had ever smacked your pussy until then and it was hard to say if you liked it or not.

Your eyes rolled into your skull as he ran the head of his cock between your slick lips, bumping your aching clit roughly. Squirming from how it gives some sort of relief to you, he grunts and presses your head firmer against the hood over the truck. "Stay fucking still, got that?" Joel leaned down and split on your entrance, rubbing it and slipping a finger inside teasing you. He slipped his hard cock inside you and you jolted forward, not realizing how big he was. "No no no, don't run away now. Take this fuckin cock like the whore I know you are, angel."

"Fuck- you're so big sir, please I need more, more" you begged and clenched around his cock, whimpering and grasping at anything you could. Joel grabbed your wrists and pinned them against your back as he started thrusting into you, the squelching coming from your tight hole making him groan in amusement. "Yeah I bet you do need more? Need someone to fuck the attitude outta you, fuckin cumslut? Hm?" He let go of one of your wrists and pulled you against his chest, smacking your cheek just hard enough to get your attention. Your mouth dropped and a smirk formed, a giggle coming from you. "Again, sir please. Hit me again daddy, I fuckin love it." You giggled and were met with another smack on your face as he buried his cock so far inside you, his balls loudly smacking your clit.

"Dirty fuckin' baby. I can tell how wet that gets you, you're soakin my cock every time I smack that goddamn beautiful face, dumb little cumslut." He turned your head towards him and shoved his tongue in your mouth. Joel pulled away and stood up as he grabbed you and pinned your back against the hood, hiking one of your legs up on his shoulder. "Put my fuckin cock back in that little pussy, right now." he demanded and you reached down grabbing him and positioning the head right at your entrance, moaning loudly as it goes back inside you.

The sweat covering you two made you glow under the fluorescent overhead lights, moans cut off with more smacks to your cheeks. "Who does this pussy belong to, angel?" Smack.

"Y-Yours sir, all you." you groaned out as you breathed in deeply, grunting as he was hitting your g spot.

"Damn right. Look at you, you wanna cum already and be daddy's cum slut? Tell me that's what you want baby. Tell me you want me to fill this little pussy with my cum." Joel snarled as his thumb went down to your clit and started rubbing roughly with thrusts making your body shake.

Your eyes were squeezed shut from the overwhelming pleasure mixed with Joels filthy mouth, you really had to focus on what you were going to say. "I wanna cum so b-ad for you sir, so fucking bad" your words were spoken between sharp breathes and he was loving every second of it.

"Cum for me baby, you've been so good taking this big cock so well. C'mon cum all over let me see you cover my cock sweet girl." he whimpered and kissed you, holding your face as his fluttered his tongue against yours. You swore you saw the heavens as you released all over him, screaming his name, damn near on the verge of crying. He groaned loudly as he pulled out and came right on your stomach, right under your belly button. His body jolted with every string of warm cum that landed on you, your clit throbbing still with excitement. After Joel finished milking his cock dry, he placed his hands on the hood on either side of your body. His damp curls tickled your face as he kissed your forehead softly, his eyes looking down at the work he did and you both giggled. "That's my good girl."

[intuitively-her]

How would your celebrity crush react upon meeting you?

Pile 1-(Justice, The World, Queen of pentacles, 4 of swords, 3 of cups, 4 of cups, The Devil)

They would feel like meeting you was fate lmao. You look like someone that has money or has a high status. They would want to take you under their wing and teach you some things. Like a mentor. They would love how social you are. You're probably the type of person that can talk and connect with all walks of life easily. You would be very refreshing to be around. You would be such a temptation to them. They would probably try to fly you out places.🤣

Pile 2-(5 of wands, King of cups, 6 of swords rx, 7 of swords rx, The Tower, 10 of cups, 2 of swords, The Empress rx, Judgement)

This person would charm tf outta you. Don Juan kinda energy. They would love how honest you are. They would also feel like you need to see more of the world. Idk why. This person would feel like they could create happiness with you. However, they also feel like you could ruin them in some way. You would have this person stuckkk. They would be a little judgmental, but only bc they wouldn't know how to feel about you. Something about you feels too good to be true.🤭

Pile 3-(Temperance, The Chariot, Death, The Star rx, The Hermit, 3 of pentacles, The High Priestess, Strength)

They would see you as someone that's at peace with their life and themselves. Jhene Aiko kinda energy. They would think that you're very transformational and you hold a lot of knowledge. Someone here could be a student. You know what you want for yourself. This person would think that you're a loner and don't enjoy too much attention. They would see that you're very confident and you hold yourself to a high standard.

*channeled song: what a life by jhene aiko

Pile 4-(8 of wands, Knight of swords, King of swords, Page of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 6 of cups, 8 of swords)

Something about you would be very fast moving. Maybe you're a fast talker lmao. They would be possessive over their time with you. This person would think you're very opinionated and love it. I get the vibe that they may encounter a lot of simple-minded individuals. They would think that you have a lot of good ideas that can lead you to financial success. However, they would also feel that your environment holds you back in some way.

*channeled song: I just died by Amerie

[ramshacklefey]

Maybe it's just an allergic reaction from growing up in a cult, but I cannot help looking at some queers and would-be leftists and seeing the seeds of the exact social framework I grew up in. So, here are some questions to ask yourself about your social circle, online or offline:

Do people around me subscribe to a good-evil dichotomy, and is this dichotomy applied to people? There is no such thing as a "good" or "evil" person. In fact, I encourage everyone to ditch the entire concept of "evil." It's not a useful concept. The kind of thinking that creates good and evil as absolute categories, especially if it is then applied to humans, benefits no one. Learn to accept that morality can be vague in a lot of places, and that a person's actions may be judged right, supererogatory (going beyond moral requirements), less than ideal, wrong, misguided, or morally bankrupt without making any claims about that person's inherent nature.

Do the people around you un-person anyone? This flows out of the previous question, because declaring someone "evil" is usually enough to declare them not a person. And even if you've never consciously put it this way, we all "know" that we don't have the same moral duties to non-persons that we do to persons. There is no action a person can take that removes them from the category of "person." There is no group a person can belong to that removes them from the category of "person." And if the people around you are willing to act as if there were, there is nothing preventing them from doing the same to you.

Do the people around you accept the idea of social contagion? Do they support shunning/exile as punishment? Again, this comes from the idea of evil, but it goes another level down. The claim becomes not just that someone is evil, but that therefore only other evil people would associate with them. This is most apparent during cancel campaigns, when the mob is as happy to turn on the friends, coworkers, and relatives of the target as they are to attack their primary target. But even if someone has genuinely done some fucked up shit, there is nothing they can do that makes them unworthy of friendship. And associating, being friends with, and loving someone who has done wrong in the past doesn't have any moral bearing on you. Communities that act otherwise damage everyone. Fear of being associated with some who has fucked up means that people with maladaptive behavior patterns are cut off from positive relationships with those who could help them. And the threat of ruining lives in this way makes it harder for people to ask for help, whether they are the perpetrator or the victim of bad behavior.

Do the people around you assign moral weight to the media others enjoy? This is a concept straight outta the evangelical handbook. I cannot tell you how many youth group meetings I attended where we talked about the "danger" of Bad Media: it would poison your mind, it would make you drink and smoke, it would make you gay, it would make you have premarital sex. Horror films would make people violent. Angry music would let the devil into your soul. It was all a load of bunk. It remains a load of bunk no matter what it is that you object to, and people who are trying to control what media you have access to are way overstepping their boundaries.

Do the people around you assign moral weight to identity categories? Do they engage in any kind of essentialism? Assigning this sort of weight is just as bad when it's a bunch of leftists saying that All Men Suck as it is when it's a right wing preacher saying that Gays Are Dangerous. Claiming that a person can be more or less virtuous based on their inherent qualities is wrong and dangerous.

Are the people around you as or more worried about appearing virtuous as they are about actually doing the right thing? I was told throughout my childhood to avoid even the appearance of sin. Keeping up a public face of virtuousness and purity was necessary in order to be accepted by the community. This includes things like using the "right" language, enjoying the "right" media, dressing and presenting yourself the "right" way, and many others.

Do the people around you divide the world into categories, defined on a black and white dichotomy of people who are "on your side" and people who are "out to get you"? Yeah, this one is tricky, because if you live under any kind of oppression, there are actually people who want to hurt you and have the structural power to do so. But the vast majority aren't those people. The vast majority of people are just trying to live their own lives, and most are unaware of the problems you're facing. When you're inside a social circle like this, it's easy to get caught up in the mentality that everyone knows what you know, so their actions speak to which "side" they're on. The reality is that most people are indifferent to you, but would object to you being badly treated if they actually understood the situation.

Do the people around you object to nuanced assessments of a situation or morality in general? Is there some kind of "canon" of acceptable beliefs and slogans? Is anything outside of this considered suspect if not outright bad? If your thoughts on mortality and politics can be summed up entirely in tweets and bumper stickers, and people around you get angry at nuance or new ideas, that's a bad sign.

These aren't all of them, and none of these are hard and fast. There are fuzzy edges on all of them. But they are all tactics that enforce social cohesion and Right Behavior at the expense of actual discussion or measured responses to situations. They rely on and grow out of living in a high surveillance culture.

You can push back against them by minding your own business, refusing to engage in surveiling others, and actively opposing judging anyone to be a non-person.

So many of us grew up in and have tried to claw our way out of this kind of social life. Don't just recreate it.

[saltygilmores]

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP6: TAKE THE DEVILED EGGS Original Air Date: Nov 5, 2002

Links to all previous episodes can be found in my Pinned Post.

Pre Opening Credits Filler: Lorelai and Rory are sorting junk mail . Of course I had to google whether or not "Shreiber's" was ever a real catalog. Google results were inconclusive. Lorelai's Poconos shirt is really cute.

Post opening credits sequence: A town meeting.

Miss Patty and Babette are too good for this world.

I love seeing Luke smile. As the entire room rises to exit, Taylor instructs them not to leave and everyone immediately listens. I will never understand how he has this much power or why Luke dutifully attends every one of thse things.

Stefon from SNL voice: This hot new club, Stars Hollow Town Meeting, has everything. Animal cruelty, blind obedience, women who pick up dates at funerals, politicians dunking on neurodivergent loners, protest supression.

(tac·i·turn /ˈtasəˌtərn/ adjective (of a person) reserved or uncommunicative in speech; saying little.)

Pretty rich for Lorelai to be dunking on loners when the guy she's in love with has no friends and her daughter has one friend.

At least the loner must be intelligent. Evidenced by the fact that he doesn't waste his time in town meetings. But seriously...imagine you're this guy minding his own business just trying to buy some books and enact political change with protest so the mayor-type-guy calls everyone in town together to dunk on how weird and creepy and quiet you are behind your back (see also: Jess, who was also a child. And who also has to endure shitty comments about not being talkative enough).

Is Kirk the only neurodivergent person in Stars Hollow who is allowed to be himself?

With our powers combined, we are our the Neurodivergent And/Or Deeply Misunderstood Outcast Super Squad! Kirk! A guy who talks to mailboxes! A quiet guy who likes books! Another quiet guy who likes books! Town Troubador! Rory!

Look who else is way too smart to waste his time at a town meeting. His precious whacking off time is over, Luke is heading home, and he is outta here.

Now, let's say the Gilmore Girls in-show timeline lines up with the air dates of the episodes (which it tends to do much of the time). "Teach Me Tonight" aired April 30th, 2002. This episode aired on November 5th, 2002. 6 months and 6 days prior to this town meeting. Rory's not-even-broken arm has healed. Lorelai, kindly...get the fuck over it and shut up. Lorelai: when did Jess get a car? Luke: None of your god damn beeswax. Luke had no idea Jess had a car.

I always found it interesting that Jess was raised in the city his whole life, but knew how to drive. Many (but not all) New Yorkers get around on foot or public transportation and many never even learn to drive at all. But there's just no way Liz was a New Yorker who had a car that Jess could borrow, she wasn't helping him practice, she wasn't paying for lessons with an instructor, and before he arrived in The Hollow the only life he knew was getting around on public transport and walking. We come to learn he knows a bit about car repair as well. And he's only 18. Definitely not saying it's implausible or unbelievable that he knows how to drive. Far from it. Just something to ponder. Jess is scrappy. He finds a way. Lorelai has the absolute fucking audacity to tell Luke "You needs to get a handle on Jess" because he wasn't aware of this car purchase. How about you get a handle on your perfect child before she sleeps with her married ex boyfriend and steals a boat huh. How bout them apples.

OMG OMG.

Narrator: Lorelai Gilmore was in fact, not sorry for equating a 6 month old minor car accident that caused a hairline wrist fracture with 1st degree murder, and she would not butt out now or ever again.

[crowcaws]

Wyll's not boring he just got shafted outta a really good man vs self storyline after killing Karlach where he could've lost his humanity after choosing to believe in a lie or fought a path to redeem himself by his own standards. Wyll has nothing to prove to anyone but himself and the idea of him losing faith in himself because of a passing act of human folly would've been so good but instead we got- "I defied a demon and did the right thing but I'm gonna be upset because I no longer look the the part of the hero but ope that's only one cutscene daddy issues instead" LIKE WYLL you're literally the most stable, sane and sexy person here I need you to grow or regress with the story your too perfect for my gremlin ass Tav. (He's so painfully out of everyones league it hurts like it's actually a problem that he's the only functional adult, like it's a stereotype he's the token support and he deserves a bit more than that )

Hello to you too anon 🤣 I pretty much agree with you, Wyll does have the weakest storyline when you put him next to all the other main six. Someone was going to have to wear that crown.

However I maintain that he's still a funny dude with a lot more pinache than people give him credit for -- and I think there's still a fair bit to his story that gets overlooked or dismissed by the fandom in general, based on what they wished/hoped it would be, instead of appreciating what it actually was.

Wyll's arc is the opposite to most of the other cast like Gale, Astarion, Shadowheart. All of them are faced with changing themselves and growing into different people throughout the story. Wyll's influence is the opposite: He has to fight to maintain who he is, when a very real force of evil is manipulating him into doing things that are unthinkable to him morally. If he kills Karlach, he loses himself. If he doesn't re-sign the contract, he loses his father, and Mizora makes it clear the blame will be on him, and he loses his reputation -- which he relies upon in order for the people of the Sword Coast to recognise and accept his help when he offers it. He could lose his father all over again. Constantly he's pushed into positions where he has to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders, and must maintain his integrity through it without angering Mizora, who will kill him if he steps too far out of line.

All his life he's had to make the tough choices and shoulder the consequences alone and unsung. He saved Baldur's Gate at sixteen years of age and was never allowed to tell anyone, and has been burdened with the devil because of it ever since. He lost his home. And the first thing he tells Tav is that he doesn't regret that for a second. He is the kind of person to take a bullet, and Mizora keeps trying to force him to be the one to pull the trigger.

I, personally, think that's interesting enough and a change of pace from the other three or four character arcs that are more of the "do you want to be nice and friendly, or an ambitious/aggressive/murderous wank?" variety. And to Wyll's credit, his personal quest has a way more to do with the overall plot of the game than Gale's and Astarion's do. (For the record I am absolutely a Gale and Astarion girlie so no hate)

Again, Wyll's still the weakest of the six, but one of them had to be. There are things I love about all of the main character arcs, and things I would change. And Wyll's still leagues ahead of Halsin, whose personal quest feels tacked on to a plot that seemed like it would have happened anyway without his input. I still hope that one day we get some bridging dialogue or updates in future patches that make Wyll's arc a little bit more impactful and cohesive. I would also love if they added a bit more banter/more scenes with Karlach and Wyll becoming friends and bonding.

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

“If not him, then her.”

A/N: Hey! I’ve been getting so many imagine ideas for Carl, literally outta nowhere. But here’s another, and I hope you like this one.

Pairing: Carl x Black!Fem!Reader

No use of Y/N in this one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kid,” Negan said motioning Carl over with his finger, “right here.”

I took in quick, yet rapid breaths, as Carl continued to kneel, glaring at him, swallowing thickly. Hoping he could burn a hole through Negan’s head, with nothing, but his stare.

“Kid..now.” He looked at his me—my tear stained face and my runny nose, looking like a hot mess. Then his father, before putting a hand on his knee, then lifted himself up and off the concrete. “You a southpaw?”

“Am I a what?” Carl asked, with nothing but pure hatred, individually wrapped around every word that he spat at Negan.

“You a lefty?” The Devil had asked. He was practically, a spawn of such. He was merciless, pretending like he cared. But ultimately, you did as he said, or you got the chop. No exceptions. His words, not mine.

“No.”

“Good.” He replied tightly, tying a belt around his left arm. “That hurt?”

“No.” Carl answered, with a slit tilt of his head. I began to notice that the tilt of the head, was something that of a family heirloom. It was passed down from person-to-person. I wouldn’t be surprised if Judith had developed, such an action.

“Should. It’s supposed to.” He said as his eyes with wide, with pure unadulterated excitement. “All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to Daddy. Spread them wings.” He said, tossing Rick’ hat, that now belonged to Carl somewhere on the ground. He pulled Carl down to the ground, but his left arm, before pushing him on the ground so he was cheek-to-cheek with the gravel.

“Simon…you got a pen?” He right-hand man nods, before tossing a marker to him, and he catches it uncapping it with his teeth then bent down. We all watched as he drew a line across his arm. “There you go. Gives you a little leverage.”

“Please..” Rick begged, and he was never one to beg, none of us were, but when someone you love’s life is on the line. It’ll make anyone do anything to keep them safe. And that’s why my eyes, evidently spelt, ‘don’t do this,’ in them.

I liked Carl. Hell, I liked him enough to even say, that I damn near loved him. Both of us too young and too dumb enough to even know what it truly meant to be, in such a thing, known to all the common folk, as love. But neither of us gave up on trying to figure out the meaning for ourselves.

Whenever we had free time, we’d hang out together, climb over the walls of Alexandria, and run free in the forest, before sitting down near a log, reading the comics, Michonne was so kind as to find for the two of us.

When we were done, Carl would stand up first, before lending me a helping hand, pulling me up into a tight hug. He’d always flash me that, one-of-a-kind smile he had, and I always smile back up at him, before pushing him and raced back home.

On days, where Carl was taking care of Judith, I’d always be there sitting next to him, if I didn’t have anything to do, of course. I’d be watching over his shoulder, as he coo’d at his baby sister. Sometimes, I’d be too focused on Judith, to even notice Carl looking at me, with a certain softness, in his face. He only seemed to show it with our family, but mainly with me.

On occasions when I did catch him staring, he’d turn his head, pretending he wasn’t just watching me. I’d smile, and shake my head. “You’re staring again.” I said, with a content sigh. “I was not!” He said, getting all defensive. “And you never were a good liar, Carl.” I said, placing my hand on his cheek, running my fingers through the ends of his long hair.

His hair was always so soft and well kept, even with the sun beating down on him, leaving him drenched in sweaty from that and grimy from the forests we found ourselves traversing everyday. “Never cut this, you hear me?”

“Why? Do you like it?” He said, almost suggestively.

“I absolutely love your hair, and if you cut it I will hurt you.” I responded, more so a promise then it was a threat.

“Wait, hold on a minute. Did you just say you love me?” He replied, with a wriggle of his eyebrows. “I said, I love your hair, don’t get ahead of yourself, Grimes.”

He sighed, almost defeated. “But I do, I’m fact, love you too, Carl.” I mumbled to myself, but it was ultimately meant for him to hear.

I was then forced out my trip down memory lane. And forced onto the ground, by Negan, causing me to wince and groan.

“Well, look who finally decided to join us. Raise and shine, darling. The sun is out, the birds are doing whatever the hell birds do, and I,” He lifts my head up, by my hair, and I lick my bottom lip, tasting something of metal. “Am about to let Lucille pound your skull into the red meat. Now, you don’t want that do you, sweetheart?” I didn’t respond, but I did glance at Carl, and that was answer enough.

And Negan picked up on that instantly.

“Oh. Oh.. We got ourselves a couple of lovebirds. Young love..beautiful ain’t it, fellas?” He asks his men. “Ain’t it just the cutest damn shit you ever seen, Rick?” Rick stays looking at the ground, shaking violently.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. Since Rick here couldn’t do something as ‘simple,’ as cutting off his sons arm. Then maybe he’ll have a better chance at it with yours.” He said, crouching down till he was eye level with me, or as eye level as you can be without having to lay on your stomach.

“How about that?” He asks, and I shake my head, mumbling a ‘please, no,’ to him. “I’m sorry, pumpkin, but this is the way it has to be.” He ties the belt tight around my left arm, and I look at Carl with pleading eyes. And Carl looks at his dad, trying to plead and beg with him, not to do it. But Rick didn’t notice, face still staring down at the concrete, with the occasional sniffle.

“If Rick can’t cut the arm off his own flesh and blood, then he’ll surely be able to do it to you, right? Seems like a simple mathematic equation.” I felt the cold felt-tip sharpie, being grazed along my arm. The weight on my back is lifted as Negan rose and forced Rick to hold the axe, before telling him to do, what he couldn’t do to Carl. Negan waited no longer then a few seconds, for any sign of Rick moving, but the only bit of moving he did was shake his head.

“Alright, well it seems you’re stiff with fear, ain’t ya?” He said, kneeling down, now eye level with Rick. “Let me help you with that,” He grabs his arm tight. “And you should be thankful. I’m never helping your sorry ass again.” He forces Rick hand into the air.

“Dad, please..”

Rick probably heard, but chose not to listen and mouths ‘I’m sorry,’ to me before bringing it down so fast, you can hear it wisp through the air. “No!” Carl cried out, only to be kicked in the ribs. He held onto his side, then let out a cough.

I closed my eyes waiting for the sharp blade of the axe, to come in contact with my arm, to which it never did.

“You answer to me.” I opened my eyes, and looked up to see Negan, holding Ricks hand that held the axe. “You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?” Rick nods his head in response, but Negan didn’t like that, and calmly requested a verbal response.

I didn’t hear anything, he was saying to our group due to the pounding of my heart, beating in my ears like a drum.

“Welcome to a brand-new beginning, you sorry shits! I’m gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then,” He walks away throwing the axe in the air, haphazardly, not that he cared. “Ta-ta.”

None of us moved not one muscle, Carl and I moved to sit up, but that was the only form of movement we made as the Saviors dispersed. Leaving us much less than we were before. Broken and afraid.

We watched as Maggie stood up and walked over to Glenn’s body. Rick tried to tell her to sit down, but she refused and told us to get ready to fight, The Saviors.

“Hey, come on.” A gentle voice called to me, with a hand on my shoulder. I continued to sit, on the ground feet to my chest. “Is Maggie coming?” I asked, feeling one bead of tear fell down my face. “She’ll meet us back at Alexandria. Come on, let’s go.” He said, gently grabbing me by my underarm, helping me stand.

Once I was fully standing, I turned and hug Carl so tight, I almost knocked him to the ground. “Carl?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never been so scared in my life, Carl.” I mumbled into the crook of his neck, and he rubs my back, trying to comfort me.

“I know,” He rests his chin on my head, looking over at Rick, who had been glancing over at this whole encounter. Normally Carl, was like Daryl in a way. You do so much as to threaten them or hurt my family, I’ll end you. But with Negan having a literal army, and Daryl as leverage over us, it was hard to not be frighten into doing exactly, as he says. “Me too.”

[axl-rose-lover-1987]

“Long Night”

Duff Mckagan x reader

Year:1991

Fluff

You jumped out of the cab grabbing your backstage pass when a security guard stopped you. “Do you know the band ma’am?” He asked sternly. “Yes I’m Duffs girlfriend” you said smiling and showing your pass. The man’s face tensed up when you said Duffs name that couldn’t be good you thought. “Alright come with me.” He said. The man lead you inside and backstage to where you could hear a very angry crowd chanting boo and some other rude things about the band. Shit you thought what did Axl do this time. Speak of the devil Axl came walking past with his security team he looked pissed. Like real pissed not normal Axl pissed like he was about to punch anyone who looked at him wrong right now. You decided not to ask him what was going on in fear of having your face punched in. You saw Slash running up behind and decided to ask him instead. “Slash what the hell is going on why is Axl pissed where’s Duff?” You asked Slash. “Long story…” Slash said somewhat outta breath. “Basically we came on late crowd was super rowdy Axl yelled at them then they started throwing shit at us and Duff got hit in the head” “DUFF WHAT” you interrupted now worried about your boyfriend. “He’s fine y/n it was just a bottle but now he can’t play so the show is over and the crowd is pissed and so is Axl.” Slash said. “Ok well where’s Duff?” You said not really caring about anything but him in this moment. “He’s down the hall the paramedics are looking at him” Slash said. “Ok thanks.” You said already starting to jog down the hallway to him. You found the room down the hall Duff was in and sure enough there he was sitting on a couch holding an ice pack on his head while a paramedic was shining a flashlight in his eyes. “Duff babe are you ok” you said running up and hugging him and then placing yourself right next to him on the couch. “Never been better sweetheart” Duff said in a very sarcastic tone. “He doesn’t have a concussion” the paramedic said. You let out a sigh of relief. “He just needs to rest and I assume you’ll be with him tonight so make sure he’s not around super bright lights and take him to the ER if he throws up but other than that he’s fine and I’ll leave you two alone.” The paramedic said getting up to leave to room. “I’m so sorry Duff I got here late and there was traffic and then Slash told me what happened and I was so worried-“ “Babe look at me” Duff said lifting up your chin so you were looking him in the eyes “I’m fine really and all that matters is your here now” Duff said kissing your forehead. You relaxed a little more with that now. You two sat silent for a few mins. Then you stood up and walked away from him and held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up Mckagan.” You said half joking half serious. “ Y/n you can’t be serious” Duff said rolling his eyes and laughing. “I’m serious” you said smiling. “Three” Duff said. “There happy?” Then you walked up to Duff and sat right in his lap “Do you know where you are Duff?” “The jungle y/n” Duff said in a sarcastic tone “cmon babe the guy said I didn’t have a concussion you can relax” Duff said laughing at you. “ I know i know I just love you so much babe” you said kissing him. “ I love you too baby” Duff said. “C’mon” you said standing up. “Let’s go home and rest” you said grabbing Duffs hands and leading him out the door. “Awe i wanted to go home and make out” Duff said in a whiny voice. “ Not tonight blondie ” you said giggling at him. It was going to be a long night trying to get Duff to actually rest but you knew you would still love every moment with him.

[silversodas]

There Is A Song That Vox and Val Remind Me Of

Lose Control by Teddy Swims.

So starting with Val’s temper tantrum and what Velvette said about waiting for Vox to calm him down. I thought that was…odd, especially for a grown ass man. When he gets to the suit where Val is fuming is where the song part comes in

“Feels like the walls are all closing in, and the Devils knocking at my door”

The Red smoke is the social poison that Val carried around in life that manifested itself as a literal poison in death. He is sitting and stewing in his own poison and wants relief given by Vox

“Outta my mind, how many times, did I tell you I am no good at being alone? Yea It’s taken a toll on me, trying my best to keep from tearing the skin off my bones”

FUCKING FINALLY!!

I thought that was just to show how dramatic of a bitch Val was (and he is) but think it’s to show he suffers from his own bullshit, his own poison, and Vox is what gives him relief

“I am falling apart right in front of you can’t you see!!”

Val was more or less trapped in his own bullshit cloud and making it everyone else’s problem, and it’s only when he vents it to Vox that he is starting to noticeably get better. And honestly I feel pretty bad for Vox here, because we kinda know now that they are dating, and Val is venting about some other fucking dude that he obsesses over. I mean I totally get why he doesn’t seem to like Angel now. (Even though Val is the one at fault) What’s interesting though is he doesn’t enable Val like a lot of piss babies like Val go to their S.Os for

(I borrowed some of these images from a video called Vox being a mood and that’s why only some images have texts on them)

I love that Vox’s old time tv voice sounds more distorted and demonic the angrier he gets, he could be as creepy as Alastor if he wanted to be

“I lose control when your not next to me”

What do you think chasing whores around town will do for our image?

Uh..fuck it up?

RIGHT!!

Feels like you could have come to that conclusion yourself there Val. I mean yeah maybe he is just stupid, but it feels like Vox is 100% of Val’s impulse control, he keeps Val from losing control, not only that, he seems to help Val think more clearly and without so much poisonous emotion

I really wanted to shoot someone

Well, let me send up the lowest earners this month

At this point Val sounds completely snapped out of it, and doesn’t sound angry anymore. And Vox, while he doesn’t enable Val, he does coddle him and that’s not any better, if anything it just encourages Val to act like this when something is wrong and Vox will come and fix it.

It seems that Vox has not set boundaries with Val that he can’t act like that to get his attention and that if he needs him when he is distressed then he needs to talk to him, not kill employees and destroy work property. And because he coddles Val’s behavior it keeps happening and Vox resents him for it

And to make things worse, Val does the opposite for Vox, he spreads his poison and encourages Vox’s impulses and bad emotions

(Seriously! I looooovvvee how creepy his tv voice can sound, hmm maybe it’s just another way he and Alastor are alike. Also his voice actor did such a good job with the delivery of this line! It’s so unsettling)

You can see the poison taking effect when it’s coming out of the side of his mouth

Teddy Swims said he wrote the song based off of toxic relationships and how addictive they can sometimes be. And I need to see more of their relationship, but I definitely think that’s the case with these two

[wastingstarlight]

💀🧼 drabble for the lovely @empresscirque and their prompt: "ghost playing guitar and soap liking it" 

pairing: john "soap" mactavish/simon "ghost" riley rating: T length: ~1k CWs: brief canon-typical violence A/N: ft! price/gaz mention for funsies, light angst, & a dash of hand kink bc of who i am as a person. thanks for the prompt and hope you enjoy! 💜

Soap is right fucking knackered.

The op had gone to shite as soon as the last two men guarding the garage pressed a silent alarm before Soap could dispatch them, summoning a small army of backup that had not been in the intel brief. 

It takes all his years of training, Ghost on his six, and sheer bloody luck to make it out in one piece. To top it off, since the place is now crawling with hostiles, exfil has been pushed back; they have to bunk in a safe house until things settle.

Soap barely fights the urge to groan as Laswell relays that charming detail to them. All he wants is a hot shower, a cold glass of water, and eight blissfully uninterrupted hours of shut-eye in a bed he knows he won’t get shot in. 

Well, as long as Price doesn’t figure out that Soap’s been the one deliberately shrinking his shirts, that is. What can Soap say; the man needs to get laid. He’s seen the way Gaz has been gawking at the captain, the way Price sneaks his own looks when he thinks no one’s watching, and Soap is more than happy to be their fairy fuckmother or whatever. He just wants someone to be getting some, is all. 

“Chin up, Sergeant,” Ghost—speak of the fuckin' devil—deadpans as he sets the course towards the coordinates Laswell had provided. “Least I’m not pullin’ a bullet outta your arm this time.”

“There’s still time,” Soap grumbles. “Think we’d get exfilled faster if ye were?”

Ghost snorts. “Not with the way our luck’s been goin’ tonight, Johnny. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

///

The safe house is standard; utterly ordinary, out-of-the-way, lightly stocked with food and gear. Working electric too, so Soap helps himself to a glass of cold water. That’s one thing off his checklist, anyway, and he’s already eyeing the washroom where a shower beckons. Maybe the night won’t be all bad.

“Go ahead,” Ghost says, like he’s reading Soap’s mind. “I’ll check the supplies, figure out something to eat.”

“Have I told ye how much I love ye lately, Lt?” Soap breathes, hardly thinking before the words are out and he’s brushing past Ghost and into the washroom. 

Soap stands under the blissfully hot water with his eyes closed and pretends he’s in a swanky spa in Glasgow instead of The-Middle-of-Fucking-Nowhere, Russia. It works, almost, but his grumbling stomach reminds him he has other things to tend to.

He switches the shower off with a sigh and towels off before tugging his base-layers back on. He especially hates this part—having to return to dirty clothes—but at least they’re quick-dry

Soap opens the door to the washroom, halfway to feeling like a person again, and then he hears it.

He thinks it’s the radio at first, on some weird Russian instrumental channel, but as he draws closer, he picks out little pauses, little imperfect scratches of fingers on strings, and he realizes right before he sees it that it’s not the radio; it’s Ghost.

Soap is not ready for the sight or what it does to him.

A single lamp casts the scene in gold and banishes the shadows to the corners of the sitting room. Ghost is down to his balaclava, t-shirt, and tactical trousers, cross-legged on the ground, a worn acoustic guitar in his lap. He watches his fret hand as he plays, his movements a bit slow but smooth, careful, practiced. Soap doesn’t know the song but he doesn’t really care; his eyes are fixed on Ghost’s hands. 

Big, scarred, powerful hands that Soap has seen slit throats, crush windpipes, disassemble and reassemble sidearms in under thirty seconds. Hands that are just as much a part of Ghost’s kit as his throwing knives. And Soap can’t stop watching those hands as they dance nimbly across frets, strum a precise rhythm that leaves Soap breathless for a reason he’s not allowed to let himself think about.

It’s over too soon.

“Ah didnae ken ye played, sir,” Soap murmurs, scrambling to fill the sudden silence before his traitorous thoughts do.

Ghost shrugs and ducks his head. He plucks a few more notes in a half-melody. “Dad taught me. ‘S been…a while since I’ve practiced,” he replies, voice rough, and Soap knows better than to push. 

There’s something desperately close to vulnerability in the air as Soap kneels in front of Ghost. Ghost’s eyes, honey-gold in the low light, track him the entire time, and curse that fucking mask because Soap would kill a thousand men to see Ghost’s face right now, to touch—

Soap swallows the want with practiced ease and fixes a smile to his face. “Y’know any other songs, Lt.? Closest I’ve been to a proper concert in ages.”

Ghost rolls his eyes but plucks out a few more notes before starting a new song in earnest. 

And the moment passes, like all these moments pass, because Ghost is Ghost and Soap is an expert at dealing with wanting things he’ll never have.

Soap tugs his knees to his chest, leans back against the sofa, closes his eyes, and lets the raspy acoustics wash over him.

He doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until he’s being woken up by Ghost pressing a mug of steaming soup into his hands.

“Eat this and get to bed,” Ghost says. Any vulnerability is gone, replaced by the Lieutenant’s gruff commands. “Long day tomorrow and I need you sharp.”

Soap knows the drill.

“Yes, sir,” he replies, stifling a yawn, and accepting the soup gratefully.

Soap’s sleep is as fitful and light as it always is in the field. 

But he dreams of music.

[evilwickedme]

Do you have any good Tim recs? Specifically ones that maintain his canon personality 👀

honestly this is very vague to me but I'm assuming you're mainly looking to avoid the fics that woobify him or flatten him into a coffee fueled anxiety machine. if that's what you're looking for, I gotchu

ship fics

Girl what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament? is about timber's first date!! so cute, occurs immediately after the whole torture cult thing

Practice Makes Perfect - I know for a fact I've rec'd this one before in an ask maybe a few weeks ago?? this is a fic where tim and ace!bart practice kissing. ends in jaime/bart (I'm sure they have a ship name I just don't know it) and timkon but the timpulse content is actually a really good exploration of their characters imho

friendship as another word for love - this is tagged as minor timber but I'll still put it here. actually this might not be exactly what you're looking for cause my bookmark describes it as "red robin!tim is chaotic af", but honestly I think that's just a description of actual canon

Teenagers Scare The Living Shit Outta Me - okay this might be a crack fic HOWEVER you cannot convince me that everyone around the core four doesn't think there's something hinky going on there. also again not technically a ship fic but I'm still putting it here

Gonna Be A Better One (A Thousand Miles To Your Door) occurs during the time period where Tim quit being Robin (and y'know Steph became Robin instead, but the fic doesn't really deal with that). In this au Kon says fuck that and insists on staying in contact with Tim. great timkon and feels very true to both of them!

time flies by is very emotional for me. I described this in my bookmark as "post n52/rebirth, Tim misses Kon like a phantom limb". that's a good description honestly. I've reread this so many goddamn times actually

batfam fics

Obedience - I'm not the only one obsessed with Ella Enchated AUs, right? right??? anyway this fic is actually so concerned with what is and isn't typical behavior for Tim and also is one of my favorite type of AUs so it's near and dear to me

Exit Strategy breaks my heart - although tbf a lot of these fics do, I definitely read a lot of hurt/comfort. anyway this one is about Tim taking Damian's derision to heart and deciding to leave. The Tim & Damian stuff here is just chef's kiss

The Study of Birds - Tim & Damian bond over birding

Our Common Grave - this is not the only au I've bookmarked focusing on the time Damian cut Tim's line, but the others aren't as focused on Tim, imho, more on the consequences for Damian (or lack thereof, depending on the fic). It's not that I don't like those, I love them even, but obviously they don't fit on a Tim fic rec list. Anyway some quality Tim & Jason stuff here. Ironically even though it's probably my fav batfam dynamic I wouldn't put most of the Tim & Jason stuff I've bookmarked on here, a lot of it is woobified content. not all of it, but a lot of it.

finally, one of my favorites - break. in this au Tim never really joins the batfam and only bruce and alfred ever know his identity. and then he just... stops being a hero. hopeful ending. really good in general, another common reread for me.

hope you enjoyed and let me know if you want any more fic recs!!!

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 6: The Devil Takes Care of His Own

Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

Warnings: language, I think this chapter is pretty tame?

Word count: 2,255ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being a sounding board for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being a cheerleader, and allowing me to screech at her about things that have happened during the writing process. Seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y’all! 💛

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! 💛🤓

Stella pulled up to the ranch. When she had gotten a text from Rip last night to come in today by noon, she had wanted to die. Breathing out loudly, she shut the car off and prepared herself for the potential heartbreak that was about to happen. She looked to her left and realized she had parked next to Kayce’s truck. ‘Shit. What’s he doing here?’

She immediately felt her chest tighten. What if John had lied to get him here to back him into a corner and to help make sure she would stay in line when he fired her and kicked her out?

“Fuuuuck,” she drug the syllable out quietly. She shook her head. ‘No. There’s no way Kayce would let that happen.’ Sliding her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, she hopped out of the SUV.

Glancing around, Stella could see a lot of activity for the day in full swing. It looked like they were separating steer prospects they didn’t want to keep. She didn’t see Kayce, but she did spot her brother. She smiled affectionately seeing him doing the work he loved to do. When her eyes landed farther to the right, she saw Tate leaning on the fence watching with childlike wonder.

She wandered over to the little boy. “Hey bud!”

“Oh hey Aunt Stell! Isn’t this cool?”

“Yeah it sure is. I love watching them.” She smiled. She whispered conspiratorially to him. “It’s even more fun to do it though.”

Tate looked at her with wide eyes. “You’ve done this before??”

She smiled. “Yessir I have. Plenty of times. With my brother and your dad, and your grandpa.”

“Woaahhh! That’s awesome! I wanna do it too!” Her best friend’s son practically started to levitate with excitement.

“Well you’ve gotta be just a little bit bigger for that, bud.” She chuckled. “Speaking of your dad, do you know where he went?”

“I think he went to talk to grandpa.”

Stella sighed. “Okay I’m gonna go find them. Stay on this fence and not the inside one, alright?” She ruffled his hair gingerly and he giggled. Stella knew Tate knew better, but she couldn’t help herself to give the warning anyhow.

Stella circled around and gave everything a passing glance. It was almost like an out of body stream of consciousness. Her eyes stopped as they landed on the two men in question looking in her direction. She was sure she turned seven different shades of pale. Stretching her neck from side to side, she walked toward them. Little did Stella know, they watched her from the moment she pulled in.

“Is this my judge and jury pair?” It was spiteful of her to say that. She cringed and started again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like that.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Kayce asked, surprised at her rough greeting. Stella’s eyes darted to John, whose face was stoic, but his eyebrows raised slightly. He hadn’t told Kayce.

She tried to smooth past her slip. “Nothin’. Y’all just seemed like you were ready to make big decisions for everyone’s day. So the judge,” she motioned at John, “and the jury.” She finished pointing to Kayce. “I’m also just in rare form today apparently.”

Kayce decided to ignore that and looked at his dad. “How’s that stallion treatin’ ya?”

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving.” John snorted and looked around.

Stella laughed quietly. “He’s definitely giving everyone a run for their money. And I’m almost outta money.”

“Kayce, let me borrow Stella for a second.”

The younger Dutton stopped shifting on his feet. He passed a look between his dad and his best friend, confused. “Sure. Don’t need my permission.”

John waved his hand for Stella to follow him. Kayce caught the sight of her wiping her hands on her legs. Why was she nervous to talk to his dad, of all people? This is the girl that told his dad to ‘go fuck himself and get off his high horse, it’s not just about you’ when she defended him back when she was 18. He reached out to grab her arm, but his fingertips barely brushed it. She fixed him with a look that made him stop any form of question.

When the eldest Dutton and Stella walked around the corner, she let out a heavy sigh. She leaned her shoulder on the wall while she placed her hands in her back pockets.

“Well, let’s have it, sir.” She tried to brace herself for the hit.

John pinned her to her spot with a look of warning. “I heard your conversation with Rip last night.”

“And I meant every word.” She answered confidently. “If you think I’d have loose lips, you really don’t know me like I thought you might have.”

Kayce had snuck up behind them. “What the hell are you accusing her of?”

Stella threw her hands up and let them slap back on her thighs. She hadn’t planned on telling Kayce, but he inserted himself into the problem.“Well, now is as good a time as any. I overheard a conversation, and decided to sneak out instead of making my presence known. Your dad saw me leave, and then I lied to him about it because I didn’t know he saw me.”

“So you’re questioning her integrity?”

“No, son, that already happened. I’m telling her she’s allowed to stay. My men trust her. My son,” he paused to look directly at Kayce, “trusts her. I’ve never had any issues. So I’m letting it slide. Once. I think she’s learned her lesson. But Stella?”

She looked at him wide eyed. “Yessir?”

“Lie to my face again?” She understood the hidden meaning of the slippery slope. “Now, I’m going to go see my grandson.”

“Stella, c’mon.” Kayce left her no room for argument. The way he turned and walked off told her he was definitely pissed. She rolled her eyes and fixed her glasses. “Come on.” She heard Kayce press.

Stella picked up her pace to catch him. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Jeez.”

Kayce whipped around at her when they got to the tack room. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!”

She placed a hand on the middle of his chest to keep him out of her face, “woah woah woah there, cowboy. I didn’t keep anything from you,” then removed it just as fast. “You were dealing with a lot. It’s not your responsibility to mend my busted fences.”

“But he’s my dad, and he should fuckin’ know better. Especially when it comes to you.”

“Those kinds of things get forgotten. Especially when it wasn’t happening to his family, Kayce. Of course he remembers yours.” Both sets of eyes glazed over for a minute, recollecting the memory.

“I could have reminded him. I could’ve made your life so much easier.”

“Yeah, but how will I learn anything if you’re fixing things for me all the time?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You won’t always be there to save me. Also, just because I’m your best friend, doesn’t mean I should get preferential treatment either. I’m still an employee here, ya know.”

Stella went to lean against the work table against the back wall. She leaned back on her hands and gazed at Kayce. “You know, this is the same exact conversation you helped me have with my brother when I turned 18. I’m not doing it twice.” She scoffed out a humorless chuckle. “Everything is fine, Kace. Next time I’ll announce myself to the conversation with bells and confetti.”

“That’s not funny, and you know it. This could have been bad.” He scoffed back at her, but still came to lean next to her. Touching shoulders like always.

“Rip wouldn’t have let it get there.” Stella defended.

Kayce had a sudden realization. “Wait, is that why you thought I was here? To help kick you out? Do you really think I would have let that happen?!”

She sighed harshly. “No Kayce. I don’t. I do, however, think your dad would have lied to get you here and back you into a corner. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“Also wait a minute, Rip?! I could stop the problem at the starting gate.” Kayce ignored the accusation about his father. He knew she was right.

She joked. “So now we’re derby runners? I thought we were cowboys.”

“Stella…” He let her name fall off in a warning.

She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. It’s not funny. If I saw things start to really go sideways, I would have come to you. I promise.” Stella fixed her glasses while she played with the bottom of her T-shirt. It was time to change the subject. “So how are you? How’s Monica?”

“I’m alright. Day by day, you know. Monica…? She’s holding on, but I can’t talk to her.”

Her face scrunched up. “Since when can’t you talk to her? I would expect that to happen between us before it happened with you two.”

“There’s something I did that can’t be forgiven.”

“Kayce… I highly doubt there is anything you could do, that she wouldn’t forgive you for.”

“Not this.”

“So what is it?”

“I can’t tell you either.” He looked down. Defeated. Stella observed him for a minute. He looked lost. Scared almost. The look reminded her of that day they snuck out and got trapped by a brown bear and she threw herself in front of Kayce right as Rip came galloping up to save them.

“Well, I know when you’re ready, you’ll tell me. But you’ve gotta talk to your wife, Kayce. You can’t leave her in the dark. It probably hurts her that you’re avoiding her.”

“You think I don’t know that? I just, can’t break her heart like this.” Stella reached over and patted his back between his shoulders.

“Whatever it is, cowboy, we’ll get through it. I’ll be here to help as long as you want me to be.”

Kayce pulled out his phone to check the time. His dad and son had been gone for quite some time.

“I gotta go get a horse. I need to find Tate.”

Stella practically jogged to keep up with Kayce. He was headed Rip’s way. Ryan and Colby walked in the opposite direction towards the friend pair. They were headed to dinner. Ryan could be heard calling Fred a dipshit. She let out a hearty laugh because it was the god's honest truth. As they got closer, they could hear Rip talking to Lloyd. He told him to give Fred his wages and send him on his way. ‘Oo shit.’ Her eyebrows raised. Jimmy limped by them.

She shouted at Jimmy. “What the hell happened to you?!” She stopped following Kayce to talk to Jimmy. In her peripheral vision, she saw Kayce stop and glance back at her and Jimmy to watch the interaction. Stella reached out to examine the bloody lip Jimmy acquired and the nice goose egg on his forehead. Kayce exhaled loudly, and Stella was all but sure there was an eyeroll and clenched jaw attached to it, but he continued moving.

Jimmy side eyed the youngest Dutton. “Uh, it’s nothing. You go catch up with Kayce.”

Rip yelled at Stella as he and Kayce went into the barn. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ clean ‘im up! Let everybody see!”

“I’m at least gonna give you some Tylenol. Rip can suck my ass if he gets pissy about me going to the bunkhouse for that. C’mon.” She pulled Jimmy along to the bunkhouse.

As Stella searched for the Tylenol, the air was tense between them. She could feel he wanted to ask her something.

“Go ahead and ask Jimmy. I’m mostly an open book.” She nosed around in the top cabinet.

“Oh it’s nothing.”

She looked at him disapprovingly above her lenses. “Yeah and I’m Miss America.”

“Okay so I’m probably wrong, but is there something going on between you and Kayce?”

If she would have had water in her mouth, it would have been spat across the room. “What?!”

Jimmy fidgeted around. “Well you guys are really close and I’ve seen how you look at him.”

Stella found the bottle in the back of the cabinet. She turned to face Jimmy with as much seriousness as she could muster and a deadpan face. “For the love of god, don’t repeat that thought to anyone else. I’ll be dead in 24 hours. Whether from embarrassment, or Monica murdering me herself, I don’t know.” She snapped the cabinet shut. “No, there's nothing going on between me and a married man. He’s just my best friend. Always has been, always will be.”

“Oh yeah definitely. I just maybe thought —,”

“— Well you thought wrong.” Stella interrupted, and roughly shoved the bottle at Jimmy. “Here’s your Tylenol. Keep those thoughts to yourself. Clear?”

“Crystal.” Jimmy watched as Stella stomped off. He heard the telltale jingle of her keys and the front door slam.

Stella stormed past the picnic tables where everyone had gathered. Ryan and Colby called out to her as she stalked by, only to be ignored and left perplexed. Even Rip and Lloyd shared a look.

By the time she made it to her SUV, she reached a boiling point. She huffed and puffed while blindly searching for the unlock button. Hopping in, she jammed the key into the ignition. Stella was ready to go home and get away from this cursed place for the night.

She felt like a child with how she reacted. If anything, her reaction made her seem guiltier than she was.

[foxcantswim]

Barbie x Harley Quinn // Lucky I Love Ya

First Barbie x Harley fic out there??? I am now BEGGING for more. I am also begging for requests for these two. I'm on my knees at this point.

Harley breaks Barbie out of jail. Afterall, she would do anything for her girlfriend.

TW: Mention of catcalling, blood, language

Barbie had been arrested… again… She had been catcalled one too many times and she had simply lost her patience, a punch and a kick there had landed her in yet another cell.

Harley grabbed hold of Barbie's wrist and pulled her closer, "Watch your back!" she shouted before pointing a gun at a cop who had appeared behind Barbie.

Taking a deep breath, Barbie closed her eyes and awaited the gunshot. She flinched. Harley had always been on the extreme side. She had even offered Barbie a gun a few days ago, which she obviously declined.

An arm wrapped around Barbie's waist, "You sure are lucky I like you enough to bust you outta here, puddin'."

A shy smile appeared on Barbie's face, "You know I appreciate it. But you don't have to keep…" she dared to take a look behind her towards the body on the floor, "Keep doing things like this," her voice became quiet.

The concept of death was always something Barbie had a problem with. And Harley didn't exactly help with that.

"Anything for my doll," Harley licked her lips, leaning in close, "One day you'll use a gun and you'll see just how exciting this shit can be." Barbie took a step back, narrowly avoiding Harley's kiss. Harley stuck out her tongue, Barbie couldn't help but smile.

Barbie was grateful for Harley. She had run into her when she was robbing a bank… Of course she was. A stray bullet had flew past her head, missing her by mere inches. Harley was about to make sure the next bullet hit its mark, but then she realised something. It was almost as if she was looking into a mirror…

Harley was determined to look after this mysterious woman from that day on.

It had been a few months since the two first met now.

"You want to take me to where?"

"BarbieLand!" Barbie exclaimed with a huge grin on her face.

BarbieLand was something she had brought up a few times, Harley was still confused at the possibility of a whole other world which was run by women and… very pink?

"This again?" she groaned, "You really think someone like me would be able to function somewhere like that? You know I love ya, doll, but I ain't goin' anywhere near that place," Harley said as she sat down on the sofa, leaning back.

"Erm… Gloria probably wouldn't like it if you got…" Barbie nodded towards Harley's blood covered clothes, "That on her furniture."

Speaking of Gloria. She almost fainted from a panic attack upon seeing TWO Barbies. It had taken a few weeks for her to get used to it.

"Isn't this kind of weird…?" she had asked.

"I'm literally friends with a walking shark and a woman who can control plants. Nothin' is weird to me."

Harley giggled up at Barbie, "Me n Gloria are like this," she crossed her fingers, "She won't mind."

"I won't mind what?"

"Speak of the devil," Harley smirked before kicking her feet up on the coffee table.

"Hi, sorry I'm late I had a-" Gloria froze in her tracks, "Get up! Now!" she shouted, instantly moving to grab Harley's hand to pull her up, "What the hell happened?"

"Nothin'!" Harley smiled as innocently as she could.

Gloria released her hand, "Really?" she tried to control her breathing at the sight of blood staining her couch.

"Some assholes were gettin' all up in my doll's business. I only did what was right and broke her out of jail."

"Jail?! Again?!" Gloria's eyes darted towards Barbie who was shifting back and forth on her feet.

"She was stickin' up for herself," Harley argued, "Men can be assholes."

Gloria sighed deeply, "That doesn't mean you can go around killing people! For one thing, you are dragging evidence here!" Despite not wanting to be anywhere near the blood, she ran to the kitchen to grab some rubber gloves in preparation of a thorough cleanup. This hadn't been the first time Harley had shown up covered in blood. Of course Gloria had called the cops the first handful of times, but each and every time Harley would somehow escape and show up once again.

"She was only trying to help," Barbie muttered as Gloria made her way back towards the couch with multiple different cleaning products in hand.

Harley laughed and walked up behind Barbie, wrapping her aways around her waist, "Ya see… Even puddin' knows I'm only doing what's right."

Gloria had found it incredibly narcissistic when Harley had announced that she was in a relationship with Barbie a few weeks ago. But then again, that was totally a Harley thing to do.

"I never said it was right," Barbie gasped.

"You wound me, babe!" Harley pouted as she rested her chin on Barbie's shoulder.

"You need to leave. Both of you. I need to disinfect the whole house." Gloria loved Barbie, regardless of her choices. And if Harley made her happy, then who was she to judge? If Gloria was being honest, she was glad that Harley was there to look after Barbie in the outside world. She was still learning about how to be human, afterall. She just hoped that Barbie was learning how to be a good person.

Harley planted a kiss on Barbie's cheek before moving away, "But where would we go? You can't kick us out like this," Harley wiped her eyes, trying her hardest to produce tears.

Barbie's frown soon turned into a huge smile, "We can go to BarbieLand!"

Before Harley could protest, Gloria interrupted, "Yes. That is a great idea. The police won't look for you there."

Harley was quickly on knees in front of Gloria, "Don't let her take me there!" she clasped her hands together and begged, "What if I don't make it back alive?!"

"You are always so dramatic," Gloria shook her head before looking over at Barbie, "Go on. Take all the time you need."

Barbie giggled with joy before pulling Harley up from the ground, "We're going to have so much fun, Harley!" she placed a kiss on her cheek, which melted the latter's heart.

It was becoming increasingly hard for Harley to deny whatever Barbie wanted. It was rare for Barbie to show affection, so a simple kiss on the cheek was usually her undoing.

"Okay! You've convinced me, doll!" Harley linked their arms together before dragging her towards the door, "Good luck with the blood!" she laughed towards Gloria.

"Ha ha……" Gloria rolled her eyes. Just before thy were about to leave the house, Gloria gasped, "Harley! Clean yourself up before you leave!"

"Booooo! You're no fun," she replied. Barbie had to forcefully drag Harley up the stairs towards the bathroom.

Harley clicked the lock as soon as they were in. It was barely even five seconds before Barbie found herself pushed against the sink.

"Nope!" Barbie put a hand up as Harley leaned in, "I refuse to kiss you when you are covered in… that."

"Dollfaaaace, you're killin' me!" Harley rolled her eyes, but she did indeed move Barbie out of the way in order to reach the sink. She had never scrubbed her face faster, water and soap splashed over the sides haphazardly.

"There we go!" Harley cheered before turning towards Barbie once more, instantly claiming her lips with her own. Barbie automatically smiled into the kiss.

"Much better," Barbie said when she pulled away.

"Love ya, babe," Harley moved a stray hair out of Barbie's face before going back in for seconds. The kiss soon deepened, it was always hard for Harley not to escalate things.

A loud bang could soon be heard coming from the front door.

"Ma'am, we're looking for Harley Quinn… Again."

"Fuckin' cops," Harley groaned as she buried her face into a panting Barbie's neck.

"L-Language," Barbie shivered under her grasp.

"I think it's about time we jump this place, puddin'," she pressed a soft kiss to the underside of her jaw before reluctantly pulling away.

The pair made their way to the room next door, Barbie always made sure to keep a spare change of clothes in a bag for Harley.

"Do I really need to change?" she groaned.

"Yes! You can't go out looking like that!" Blood still clearly stained her clothes.

"Lucky I love ya," Harley rolled her eyes before grabbing the bag.

Barbie clapped her hands together in excitement as she watched Harley change, "We're finally going to BarbieLand!" she shouted.

"Shh!" Harley hushed her.

Once Harley was finally changed, she ran towards the window and flung it open. She reached out to hold Barbie's hand before the pair jumped.

Harley was not looking forward to the trip to BarbieLand. She had no idea what was in store for her… But if it made Barbie happy, then so be it. The smile on her girlfriend's face as they skated alongside the beach was worth it.

[surveillance-0011]

I recently got to the HOTD fandom and I saw @hollybluberry's and others devil concept and I had a question which is

what are your headcanons on @hollybluberry's and the other devil concepts people made?

ah oops sorry im getting to this late!!

i don't really have too many head canons for other people's devil concepts,, but off the top of my head

@hollybluberry devil:

friendly but takes no shit

spends a lot of time preening their wings.

Enjoys the sun (odd since many creatures who are more nocturnal) but also fond of clear nights and looking at stars

Points out constellations and the like while stargazing. Holds up Tower to the sky and points to Ophiuchus and is like "look it's you!!" It's like holding up a cat to the Sphinx

Has tried to point out Lacerta to Heirophant with even less success.

gets upset/disappointed seeing the other bosses fight (ive always headcanoned that all together the bosses usually don't get along too well with only the handful of factions/little groups getting along... better??) and often has to break things up. I assume they'd listen to her.

As Blu mentioned Magician and Hangedman have seen her angry and consequentially they're a Bit Scared. Magician isn't visibly frightened but treats them with a lot of respect and is uncharacteristically agreeable+polite with them. Hangedman has started to avoid her, on the other hand, immediately stopping what he's doing if he looks over to see her looking peeved. He's like. actually fucking terrified of her and he's not someone who really gets scared all that much. So it's a bit strange and he won't elaborate on why he's so scared of them.

Most creatures are intimidated by her but none are actively hostile towards her. Some of the bosses don't always approve but it's hard to stay mad at her because she's much more gentle/lax and levelheaded relative to the others.

Likes sweet snacks with fruit.

hates thornheart and pities curien/wheel of fate, though she's not gentle with him either. WOF isn't intimidated by her at all though, though whether or not he's seen her angry or not is hard to say.

Moon, on the other hand, thinks all the eyes are cute. I mean, moon's self preservation skills are dogshit and he's biased since he's got three eyes, but hey.

Assuming that a boss fight with her, knowing how she'd let them win, would maybe have a phase where she fights out of fear or being hijacked by Thornheart?

Generally full of whimsy and curiosity for the world around them and wishes to see more of the world, and how it was before humanity fell.

@pixelcoin devil:

aggro towards most humans. Cool with creatures and other lab grown undead etc as long as they don't show aggression first

Still, anyone who could prove their worth may be shown mercy...

Kind and polite to their few closest allies

also annoyed by any fights between the bosses. much more... assertive in their ways of breaking up any discourse (read:mauling)

they get injured in the antics just as frequently though, so it balances stuff out.

a little silly. we stay silly

finds zeal and other smaller creatures cute, much to their chagrin. Especially zeal's chagrin, but he does appreciate being seen as endearing and doted upon rather than treated like some pest.

Wasn't like that at first, though. There was not a good first impression. Devil still calls him out on his bullshit now too, but he's forgiven a bit easier than most.

Also i am sure zeal is getting the (metaphorically speaking here hopefully) Webkinz Milk Plush Treatment. to be loved is to be changed.

Kuarl is not amused by this.

Strength kind of is.

Belligerent and high energy. Also a bitch to deal with when they get mad. much more violent than Blu's Devil, I assume.

A total powerhouse, often unaware of their full strength. Many an accidental energy beam shot through a wall....

Their eyes get stuck outta their head a lot. Magician is skeeved out to hell and back every time this happens but tries (and fails) not to show it as Devil often goes to him for help

Devil is a sort of tentative leader? They're treated as one of the big men on campus, yknow, but I think with their youth they may have some power struggles or find themself pushed around by the more domineering ones like Emperor or Moon.

Goatlike mannerisms but only really eats meat.

Hangedman isn't as put off by this one...for... don't know actually. Then again this Devil is more like the baby of the curien-thornheart-goldman fucked up family of all time so?? idk??

i think both the devils would manage to kind of sort of get along. hopefully. i would like them to :3c