#i never even change my remote batteries

[lyzaxoxo]

me omw to take batteries from the drawer for the second time this month for my “remote”

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: F.L.U.D.D. (Flash Liquidizer Ultra Dousing Device)

Debut: Super Mario Sunshine

F.L.U.D.D. was Mario's first ever Platforming Buddy! Unless you count the Lakitu Bros. from 64, but they just operate the camera and don't affect Mario's platforming moveset, so I do not. So really, F.L.U.D.D. is- hold on, I really don't want to write every individual period each time I write its name. I'm just going to leave all the periods at the end of the post and you can put them where they belong yourself, or anywhere else you think is funny. Or you can keep them, I don't mind. Put them on a bagel and tell a friend they're poppy seeds!

FLUDD is a big deal. A landmark for the series in terms of mechanics. Not that these specific mechanics returned, but the concept of a buddy granting Mario some new abilities has become a recurring thing. FLUDD even talks, and is fully voice acted! In a robot voice! Like mine! A cute and silly little robot buddy for Super Mario.

So then... why don't I absolutely LOVE it? I feel like I should! But I'm just not getting that urge to imagine it driving a kart or playing tennis like I do with far less important characters. Does it work so well as a Tool that I have a hard time viewing it as a Character? Let's See!

I think FLUDD's design is honestly kind of perfect. The two massive screws that evoke eyes are really clever, and especially great is that they give it + shaped "pupils"! Aside from that, the nozzle's funnel shape is an extremely funny shape for a mouth, and FLUDD does indeed speak out of there. Excellent head! Though I feel like the excitement fizzles out once you look past the head, because the rest is much more "equipment" than "character". That's fine, this IS a piece of equipment! It just makes it feel less like a character, when I'd like it to have a bit of a balance of both. Maybe if the handles also functioned as little feet that it could walk around on? I don't know. Maybe that would be stupid... but I do love when creature designs are stupid!

FLUDD was made by E. Gadd, but that's all the backstory we get. We never learn why it was just there on the Delfino Airstrip, and that's really weird! The perfect tool to combat the game's main conflict is just there immediately when Mario arrives. It could have been a cool little mystery, but I guess the reality is just that some Pianta ordered it when the Goop Incident happened and got express delivery. Or maybe someone already had it and was just waiting for a calamity like this to happen, to justify the purchase!

I don't need to go over everything FLUDD does, right? I'm not the Super Mario Wiki, it's not my job! I'm here for the Weird. And a weird thing is that FLUDD freaken dies.

During the final boss against Bowser's Hot Tub, FLUDD starts stuttering, as if breaking down. And then in the final cutscene... it Dies! Mario goes to it, it tells him it hopes it was of assistance, and it dies. And Mario is sad, because this was his friend. But then in the very next scene FLUDD is back! Some Toads fixed it and it's fine now. So this ends up having the emotional impact of Mario needing to change the battery on his TV remote.

Even though it's our and Mario's friend, FLUDD is still an object, a product. It's technically not just FLUDD, but A FLUDD, one of many, mass produced. I have to wonder if it actually formed any bond with Mario, or if it was a one-sided friendship. Is it even capable of friendship...?

Whatever the case, the others absolutely consider FLUDD a friend, and well, that's just so sweet. During the credits we get to see some extremely compressed pictures of Mario and friends enjoying their real vacation, and FLUDD is there with them! It's not even on Mario's back anymore, or always WITH Mario, for that matter. Sometimes it's hanging out with Peach and some Toads, sitting there independently. I think it is safe to say FLUDD is a real true friend, and likes to just Hang Out sometimes! Even better, maybe it wasn't originally sentient, but learned how to love over the course of the adventure. Such a wonderful robot thing to do!

As expected, thinking in depth about FLUDD has absolutely endeared me to it. Hooray! It's about time. Well, it's too late for FLUDD to be relevant again, probably. I'm not saying it should be a driver in Mario Kart, but I AM saying there should be a kart based on it, and I'm also saying that this kart should canonically be the FLUDD, now upgraded. This feels like something that should have happened long ago!

This has been a long post, but it is far from all FLUDD has had to discuss! So next time, I will post about FLUDD once more, and its various appearances during the GameCube days and beyond! There is milk involved at some point. Get excited to learn what milk has to do with any of this!

Here are all those periods you were promised! I hope you like them.

....................................................................................................

[randomdragonfires]

in your car, i'm a star (and i'm burnin' through you)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Girlfriend!Reader Oneshot

A/N | Yes, I'm still alive. Please take... whatever this is. I started spitballing and two hours later, this happened. Not my best work, lots of plot holes - but hey, at least I remember how to write lol. This was just to get my inspiration back, somewhat. Now I'll go back into hiding.

WARNINGS | NONE. Just a tinge of angst if you squint and complicated family dynamics. Hurt/Comfort drabble, really.

SUMMARY | She knows him, she loves that she does. But does she know him, truly?

WORD COUNT | 2.6k

Inspired by Love Song, by Lana Del Rey.

She knows him—or at least, she thought she did.

She knows him in the way his lip twitches just so, that subtle gesture standing in for a smile. She knows him from the lazy trails his fingers leave on the fogged-up shower glass, the only trace of his presence after he’s gone. She knows the way he walks—calm, feline, serene; as though he owns the room.

She knows his quiet confidence, the understated arrogance. She notices the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against the table as he studies his laptop, sleeves haphazardly rolled up, veins faintly visible beneath his skin. She recognizes how his face stays controlled, concentrated, yet always seems at peace.

She treasures the small things—the jam jar he loosens for her when he knows he’ll be gone before she wakes; he knows she can’t open it herself. She loves the way she seeks his warmth even in sleep, instinctively curling toward him like a moth to flame.

She notices the thoughtful details—the way he sets her mug next to the kettle before he leaves for work, her favorite tea bag already waiting inside. How he leaves his book open to the page she stopped at, knowing she’ll steal it from his nightstand. How he never forgets to replace the batteries in the remote, even though she wouldn’t notice until they were completely dead.

She loves how he adjusts her seatbelt when she forgets, his fingers brushing hers in a wordless reminder. How he orders her fries because he knows she’ll inevitably steal his no matter what. The way he folds her blanket at the end of the couch, even though he pretends it annoys him when she leaves it there.

Or how he always picks up her jacket when she tosses it carelessly over a chair, hanging it up with a faint shake of his head. How he coils her phone charger neatly, even when she leaves it everywhere, and always makes sure to charge her headphones before long trips because she never remembers.

She loves Aemond for who he is. She sees him, appreciates him, loves him, knows him—

Or at least, she thought she did.

He should never have brought her here.

He’s known for some time now—perhaps too long—that this was a mistake. Things are too easy with her, too peaceful, and he’s grown dangerously accustomed to it. The quiet has become a refuge, and he’s taken it for granted, blind to its fragility until now.

He sees how she’s changed him. How the razor-sharp edge he’s carried for so long has dulled in her presence, as if she’s gently worn him down, one quiet moment at a time. The way his heart still jerks when someone taps his shoulder, but her touch—the warm, steady weight of her palm—grounds him instantly. He loves how the bed feels when she’s in it, her warmth a quiet anchor that tethers him to something real. He loves the little hearts she draws on the shower glass when she’s up before him. Does she know it matters? Something so small, so effortlessly delicate, yet it lingers with him long after she’s gone.

He loves the sight of her sprawled on his couch, lying on her stomach with her calves kicked up, grinning at him like his world is hers to brighten. He loves the mess she leaves behind—her makeup scattered across his vanity, evidence of her presence. The second toothbrush in the holder, now a permanent fixture, though the thought of it being gone fills him with a dread he can’t quite name.

Her touch steadies him. Her voice slows him. Her presence halts the chaos of his world, if only for a brief moment, long enough for him to feel like he’s actually a part of it.

And now, she will leave. She’s seen him for what he truly is—the cracks beneath the surface, the brokenness he’s kept hidden for so long. She will leave.

She won’t be wrong to go. He wouldn’t stay either.

Going back home for Christmas is never something he looks forward to.

There are parts of it he likes, of course. He likes seeing his mother’s face light up when she greets him, the warmth in her smile wrapping around him like a blanket. He likes how Helaena beams at the thought of all her brothers being under the same roof again, her joy so pure and contagious it makes the house feel alive. He enjoys watching Criston ruffle Daeron’s hair as the younger one hunches over his notebook, too focused to care about the disruption. He loves watching Aegon embarrass himself with whatever woman he’s brought along for the season, loud and brash as always. Though he’d never admit it aloud—never—he sees himself in Aegon’s ridiculous gestures now that he has her. Aegon’s clumsy declarations of affection mirror his own, though his are quieter, subtler.

They’re all the same.

They’re all part of the same heart.

He likes who he is here, among the people who love him, who see him as something more than the jagged edges he keeps hidden from the world. He loves them back, fiercely, completely, in a way he rarely allows himself to feel.

This time, he brings her. Watching his mother embrace her with the same warmth she gave him fills him with something he can’t name. It’s as if his mother is returning a silent promise: Protect my son’s heart, and I will protect yours.

Criston’s approving smile lingers just behind them, and somehow, that quiet nod means more to him than any meeting with Viserys ever could. Helaena and Daeron whisk her away to explore the grounds, their easy chatter drawing her into their world effortlessly. Even Aegon, beer in hand, sides up to him with a mumbled, “She seems nice.” It’s as close as Aegon will ever get to openly welcoming someone into the family. In that, the brothers have always been guarded - just in visibly different ways.

He likes this part of Christmas.

But then, his father arrives. And with him, his golden daughter and her brood—a procession that feels more like a parade of veiled insults and subtle power plays.

In that moment, he wishes he’d kept her safe, whisked her away back to their flat, hidden her from the storm brewing on the horizon. Before Luke exposes him for who he truly is.

It happens before he even realizes it.

The thread, stretched taut for hours under the weight of veiled insults and sharp-edged jabs, finally snaps. Perhaps it was always inevitable—a breaking point years in the making, woven into the fabric of that night long ago, the night that changed everything.

He hates that she’s part of this charade, this grotesque tradition where both branches of the family pretend they are whole. The sickly-sweet veneer of unity grates at him, and watching her navigate it with grace only makes it worse. She listens to Daemon with a polite smile, nodding at his barbed remarks as though they’re harmless. It churns his stomach, the way she must endure this ugliness with a dignity he doesn’t think he could ever match.

He doesn’t know what Luke says. He doesn’t catch the exact words or the smirk that accompanies them.

It doesn’t matter.

He hears the snigger, feels the sting of the unspoken, and the weight of years-old memories crashes down on him like a wave. The next thing he knows, he’s let go of her hand, the warmth of her touch gone as he rises from his chair.

The room blurs, but his target is clear. Jace is on the ground before he even registers the punch that put him there. Off to the side, he sees Aegon slam Luke into the table, their mother’s expensive centerpiece shattering under the force. Aegon doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t hold back—because once, long ago, he left Aemond to fight alone. The price for that mistake was written across Aemond’s face, a reminder neither of them could ever forget.

For a moment, the room is chaos. The cacophony of shouting and crashing fades into a dull roar as Daemon strides in, yanking them apart with a scowl that could burn through steel. Rhaenyra mutters something about being thankful their father has already gone to bed, sparing him the spectacle. Alicent clutches Criston’s hand tightly—an odd development, one that might have piqued Aemond’s curiosity in any other situation. Criston, ever composed, smirks faintly at the boys he helped raise - finally fighting side by side.

But none of it matters. None of it reaches him.

The loudest noise is the deafening silence of her presence. She stands frozen, her gaze locked on the floor, her hands clenched at her sides. For the first time since he met her a year ago, she refuses to meet his eyes.

Shame curls in his chest, threatening to consume him whole.

Hours later, as the dust settles, his mother pleads with him to stay the night. He shakes his head. He can’t. Staying here feels wrong, like prolonging the damage he’s already caused. He needs her back at the flat, where the world feels small and safe again, where her warmth in his arms drowns out the chaos his family always brings.

If, that is, the fragile peace he’s built isn’t already beyond repair.

When she wakes, his side of the bed is empty. The sheets are cold—he’s been gone for a while.

She pads through the flat, barefoot and quiet, her home now as much as his, even if she’s never said it out loud. The absence of him unsettles her, as does the memory of the man she saw last night. It wasn’t the Aemond she knew. It wasn’t the man she's come to love.

The Aemond she knows is gentle, deliberate. Even last night, after the chaos, he was careful as he tucked her into bed, his hand brushing through her hair with quiet apologies whispered between the spaces of her breath. His voice was soft, steady, soothing—enough to almost make her forget why they’d left Dragonstone earlier than planned.

Almost.

He rarely speaks of the other half of his family, and now, she understands why. Daemon’s sharp tongue had been enough to make her wince in a ten-minute conversation; the indifference his father showed in the face of his nephews' presence was stunning. She can only imagine the weight of years spent enduring that venom.

Perhaps Aemond keeps his silence not out of indifference, but out of necessity—to keep the anger locked away, to remain the man she fell in love with.

She tries calling him, but he doesn’t pick up. The unanswered ring unsettles her more than his absence.

Sighing, she heads to the kitchen. She begins to prepare breakfast, the motions familiar and grounding. Pancakes, eggs, sausages—things he likes. The onions sizzle in one pan while the eggs cook in another, the sounds filling the silence he left behind. She tries calling again, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she chops, but the call goes unanswered once more.

She knows why. He’s ashamed. She’s always suspected there’s more anger in him than he lets her see. She’s wished, in quiet moments, that he’d let her see it—not to judge him, but to show him that it wouldn’t change how much she loves him.

The food is ready long before he returns, so she eats alone, the stillness pressing against her. On the coffee table sits the watch she’d bought for him, still in its elegant box. She hasn’t had the chance to give it to him yet.

After clearing the dishes, she leaves them in the sink, knowing the housemaid will handle them later. She moves to the sofa, hugging her knees to her chest as she waits.

And then, finally, the sound of keys in the door. The soft creak as it opens. Footsteps. He’s home.

And he brought coffee.

She stands as he enters, the sight of him both a relief and a quiet ache. She takes the cups from his hands, her fingers brushing his briefly. He still won’t meet her eyes. Placing the cups on the table, she takes his hand in hers, leading him to the sofa.

When he sits, she moves to straddle him, her knees on either side of him. She holds him close, until she is all he sees, all he feels, all he can think about.

Her lips find his forehead first, soft and lingering, as her arms wrap tightly around his torso. She holds on as though she’s anchoring him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, she maps her way downward, each kiss deliberate, each touch an offering. His eyelids, his cheeks, his nose—she doesn’t stop until she finds his lips.

He smells of sweat, faint and earthy, and she remembers the perfectly placed shoes near the door. He’s been on a run, she realizes.

He’s been running, in more ways than one.

Her kisses shift, deeper now, but still tender. He responds slowly at first, his hands tentative on her hips before they find her back, pulling her closer. For a while, the world shrinks to just them—soft breaths, soft lips, soft touches. The tension in his shoulders begins to melt, his hand slipping up to cradle her neck as if grounding himself in her presence.

When the weight of the moment settles, he leans back, lying down with her beside him. She shifts to rest her head against his chest, her fingers idly tracing patterns over his t-shirt. His arm curls around her, holding her against him, as his lips press to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, tinged with regret.

She lifts her head to look at him, her eyes soft, her voice softer still. “It’s alright. You’re so good to me…”

His expression shifts, something flickering in his steely, forever cautious gaze. She knows there’s more, an explanation forming behind his eyes.

But it can wait.

Right now, all she wants is for him to feel what she does. To know what she’s always known.

He’s home.

Moments pass, and he calms down again. Later, he murmurs.

“You should drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

She laughs, the sound light and easy, as she moves off him to pick up her cup. It’s a holiday drink—spiced, sweet, just how she likes it. He knows her well enough to bring her favorite, even when he’s apologizing for ruining the holidays this year. But as she takes a sip, she realizes all is not lost.

“I got you something,” she says, setting her cup down and reaching for the small box she left on the table.

Wordlessly, he takes it, his fingers brushing hers as he sits up beside her. She cups her coffee again, letting its warmth seep into her palms as she watches him open the gift.

The watch gleams under the soft morning light, the craftsmanship striking. He notices the details immediately, running his thumb over the smooth edge of the dial.

“Valyrian steel,” he says, his tone flat yet certain. It’s not a question—of course, he’d recognize his preferred metal. He always does. That’s who he is: the kind of man with a preferred metal, precise and particular in ways that often amuse her.

“I had it sourced from someone in imports,” she begins, her words spilling quickly, almost bashful. “The permits are hard to procure, and it took months—”

He stops her mid-sentence, pulling her into a hug. It’s sudden and firm, his arms wrapping around her in a way that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

“Don't leave,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice carrying an honesty that makes her chest tighten.

She smiles against his shoulder, her hands resting lightly on his back.

"I'm not going anywhere."

She knows him, and he loves that she does. And it truly is that simple.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair. 

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life. 

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?” 

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?” 

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room. 

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away. 

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth. 

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side. 

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class. 

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed. 

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora. 

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her. 

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.” 

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride. 

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it. 

Now was not the time to slack. 

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior. 

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed. 

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought. 

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date. 

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture. 

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart. 

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.  

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.” 

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over. 

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop. 

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin. 

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?” 

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.” 

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.  

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air. 

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again. 

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills. 

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running. 

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.” 

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette. 

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.” 

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.  

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over. 

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin. 

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology. 

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?” 

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.” 

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.   

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?” 

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.” 

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve. 

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim. 

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens. 

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger. 

It was raw shame. 

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight. 

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[demontonic]

Ethan Landry - Perverted

There will be undoubtedly a part 2 since i realized this was hitting 2000 words and i wasnt about to make you guys wait another three days till i put out the smut so take this background as a starter so i can finish the rest! Also let me know if you want to be on my taglist for part 2

Word Count: 2274

TW: Blood, Knives

Ethan had always been quiet around you, unless you were with the others but even then there was very little interaction. At first you thought he didn’t like you, then you thought maybe I’m too loud for him- but that couldn’t be it. If that were true he wouldn’t like Chad, and he was worse than you. Countless possibilities rushed through your mind every time you saw him and it slowly tumbled into a sick infatuation. You started to take note of who he talked to, especially if it was another girl. Watching even the smallest of mannerisms and remembering what his body language meant. At some point you decided to ask for his social media from Chad, of course he teased you about it immediately making sense of why he caught you staring at the nerd. After that Mindy found out and of course told Tara who told Sam and Quinn, nothing could stay a secret for too long in this dysfunctional family.

The gang decided to help your seemingly innocent crush on the curly haired brunette, however they had no idea what you really thought about him. You had always been one to get too involved with the people you had liked. Sure it was a long running joke that girls had the skills of FBI agents, but combine that with no social life… it’s almost concerning. You had always gotten weird vibes around him, call it intuition but you had never imagined your feelings to be remotely correct. One night you were out late, making a short walk back from the small market on the corner of your street. You decided since the gang went out -and you had zero social battery left- you would simply drink by yourself tonight. You stuffed the plastic bag filled with a few medium sized bottles of vodka and some cheap berry blend juice into the small backpack you had. Going to the small pizza restaurant and picking up the pizza you ordered for when you inevitably got the munchies. It was a short walk back to the apartment, maybe 15-20 minutes at most. Besides, you had done this many times before but what you were about to encounter would change the course of the next month.

Most of the surrounding apartments housed students from Blackmore University, it was afterall a close walk to the college. If your music hadn’t lagged when it did you would’ve missed the noise coming from the dark alley. What a cliche. You and Mindy were horror fanatics and after Woodsboro you knew better than to go into the pitch black void filled with shuffling noises. The cool air that racked against your exposed arms only added to the adrenaline that began to pump through your veins as you finally came to the realization that you had been standing and staring into the alleyway for a minute now. The small pizza box now being set on the top of a dumpster as you paused the music blasting in your eardrums, placing the small earbuds in their case so that you were now fully aware of your surroundings.

You pulled out the butterfly knife you had trained yourself to be moderately skilled with in times like these. The purple handle being grasped tightly in your fist as you crept slowly towards the sound you had yet to find the source of. There was a corner about mid way through, a small light illuminating that portion as you peaked your head around the corner. At first it took your eyes a second to adjust to the sudden change but once you did you realized that the boy you had been truthfully stalking was more than met the eye. He was crouched next to a dumpster, his surprisingly toned torso lightly splatter with specs of blood. Black jeans and doc martens being the only thing on him besides a black wrist watch. However upon squinting you see a blade entirely covered in blood, the crimson liquid falling into a small puddle between his legs. A Ghostface mask hung on the edge of the dumpster, the usually white face having the same crimson adorning it only in the shape of a handprint. You wanted to believe that maybe it was a costume, but you knew he would never do that with the people he associated with. You watched, frozen, as he wiped the blade on his thigh to rid it of blood before shoving it into a backpack. He pulled out a blue polo shirt, slipping it on as he shoved -what you could only assume was the rest of the Ghost face robe- in before placing the mask on top and zipping it closed.

You took a few steps back, going to hide yourself behind the few trash bags that were leaned against the walls next to you. It was too dark for him to notice you, wearing mostly black you blended in with the shadows. He turned the corner, walking out the way you had entered only he paused. Ethan didn’t turn around to face you, not his body or even a slight turn of his head. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest, you felt like he could hear it.

“Stalking someone you don’t even talk to isn’t a good look,” his voice sounded like he was smiling, it held pride and darkness. Your eyes widened as you readied your knife, preparing yourself for the worst case possible. He took a few steps back, stopping right in front of you as he dropped his backpack. A hand grabbed at the wrist that held the small blade, pulling you to your feet as he stared at you with empty eyes.

“Being covered in blood isn’t exactly a good image either,” you scowled as he only looked at you with a smug expression plastered on his annoyingly perfect face. “You’ve had plenty of time to try and gouge my eyes out, kick, scream, grab your knife with your free hand and yet you stare at me- now that’s a bad look Y/N.” Ethan was right, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you snatched your hand from his grip, slicing his palm open in the process. He hissed lowly as he retracted his arm, assessing the wound before licking it. Your mouth gaped open as you stared at the seemingly psychotic man in front of you. “Did you know your saliva can help the healing process for wounds? I’m sure you’re thinking I did that for show but there's a reason behind everything I do. I’m surprised you didn’t find me out sooner, considering you never stop following me, watching me.”

“Yeah well that was before I knew you were a killer, so take that with a grain of salt-“

“So you think it’s justified? Stalking an innocent college boy- or nerd as you love to call me.”

“Innocent isn’t exactly how I’d describe you, but if it helps you sleep at night,” what are you thinking? He’s a serial killer, a COPYCAT of someone who almost killed you. Your conscience was bellowing inside of your head, however here you stood face to face with the guy you’d been drooling over since the start of the year, with full knowledge of his true agenda. “What helps me sleep at night is knowing that someone as sick and perverted as you can be so stupid as to stay here and chit chat with someone who’s quite literally trying to kill your friends.” You scoffed… you scoffed “Real smart revealing your entire plan-“

“How desperate are you? How insane are you to stand here and hold a conversation with me? Or am I just that hot-“

“Shut the fuck up you are so full of yourself I’m surprised you’ve gotten this far-“ Sirens. Police had begun to pull up to the apartment buildings, your heart beat picking up as this scene looked very sketchy. You talking with the killer calmly in the alleyway outside of a crime scene wouldn’t hold up well in court. Ethan groaned as he took off running the opposite side of the alleyway opting out on a long way home rather than the route you were taking. Without even processing what was happening you emerged from the alley, grabbing the pizza box and walking home. You wish you could say it was peaceful but your thoughts were consumed by the interaction… and the rush it gave you.

The next morning

It was a weekend, you woke up around noon, the pizza box being thrown to the floor and your bottles tucked away in the crevice between your bed and nightstand. Your head spun lightly, a slight headache setting in but nothing you couldn’t handle, you were practically a pro at handling hangovers. At first you ran through your morning routine like normal, mind fuzzy and not fully recalling the events from last night. That was until you walked back into your room realizing there was a small gift bag on your nightstand. The gift was black and covered with white ghosts, tied with a red ribbon. “What the fuck,” you muttered under your breath before opening it. The contents poured on to your stand, your knife accompanied by a small piece of paper fell out. You stopped breathing for a moment as reality crashed down on you; he was in your room while you were sleeping. You opened the small note, reading the neat writing in red ink.

you’re stupid enough not to notice that I took your knife? and that was before you were shit faced, you were out pretty cold, you almost looked cute.

p.s. thanks for the free pizza❤️

For a second you let yourself forget everything you just read, reverting back to your sick infatuation with the seemingly quiet nerdy boy. He called me cute. You knew you were twisted when your heart fluttered while reading the note like it was some stupid middle school crush. He called me stupid and broke into my apartment. You crumbled the note up, going to throw it away but you hesitated, why are you second guessing this? You didn’t know, but you flattened it out, folded it, and placed it back into the bag and left it in your nightstand. As for your knife you placed it back into your bag before getting dressed to hang out with your friends, unfortunately they still think you’re head over heels for Ethan. As you emerged from what they referred to as ‘your cave’ Tara and Quinn greeted you.

“Seems like you had fun last night, did you have any company over this time?” Quinn interrogated before sitting down on the white sofa. “You know I never-“

“We heard someone in your room last night, did you finally make progress with Ethan?” Tara, surprisingly not fumbling her words, questioned as she shook you by the shoulders enthusiastically.

“Oh come on guys you don’t seriously think… you heard someone in my room and didn’t say anything?” It finally dawned on you that they heard him, while you were passed out and thought you were fucking, great.

“What if it was ghostface? I could be dead right now!” Tara folded her arms, her mood noticeably more dull, “Did something happen that we should know about? Did you get a call?” Again, you froze, standing there with your mouth gaped open as you looked into the eyes of someone you considered family.

“No I just- come on you guys know I’d never have someone with me. I was probably just drunk and stumbling around my room looking for something.” You rambled before walking into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, still questioning why you hadn’t told her. Yes you had a small obsession with the boy, but it was much more than that now. Your face turned a light shade of red when you read his note, your heart swelled at the thought of him sneaking into your room to return your knife. The sight of him staring down at you in the cold dark alley, you could smell the blood and cologne on his skin from how close-

“Earth to Y/N! Hello Hi sweetie we need to get going, we’re meeting up with the boys for lunch.” Quinn said as she waved her hand in front of your face before walking towards the apartment door where Tara already stood. You quickly grabbed your water and followed the two girls out of the door trying to ignore your internal moral battle.

You waited in the mostly empty quad at a bench, Sam had yet to turn up and Chad had gotten here shortly after Mindy and Anika. Only one you were missing was the person you were sweating bullets about. You sat patiently, quietly, observantly, until your phone dinged. By now the group was over their usual paranoia but when you saw it was from Ethan you swiped it away at first… instantly regretting it.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” a whisper from your right side startled you, causing you to jump forward. By the time you turned around and the group noticed his presence he was standing up right, acting innocent like he didn’t scare the shit out of you.

“Ethan! Took you long enough shit, were you jacking off in the shower?” Chad joked as he slung his arm around the now quiet boy.

“Oh- ew! Grow up, can’t you talk about anything besides your dicks?” Mindy expressed quite passionately before beginning to lead the group to a small restaurant.

Sorry to end it so abruptly i genuinely needed to put this out so i could take my time perfecting the last half so hoped you like it let me know what you would want in part 2 i might take some notes. heres my masterlist if you wanna check that out!

[mj-iza-writer]

Because I got a rude comment from a homophobe. ALSO, because I love writing Whumper and Whumpee relationships where they just bicker back and forth like an old married couple. But Whumper be dammed if anyone messes with Whumpee on their watch, thats their job no one elses..... 😝

Whumper gave up on torturing Whumpee a long time ago. Whumper just doesn't want to get rid of them though. They both just bicker back and forth now. It's a game for both of them now.

Have I written a story like this already... yes. Will I write more like this.... also yes.

Whumpee snuck another package into the cart while Whumper looked over some fruit.

"Put it back, we aren't getting those", Whumper didn't even look.

"Put what back?", Whumpee shrugged as they pretended to look at apples.

"Whatever few items you slid in when you thought I wasn't paying attention", Whumper turned.

"Come on, I'm hungry.... and I want snacks", Whumpee pleaded, "please."

"No", Whumper rolled their eyes.

"I'll do it", Whumpee grinned slightly.

"No, you won't. Please behave", Whumper frowned.

Whumpee only grinned wider, "please master."

"Whumpee, stop it", Whumper shushed, "you know you don't call me that in public."

"I'll get on the ground and crawl to your feet like you used to make me", Whumpee whispered, "I'll beg like I did when you were doing you know what to me."

"You do it, you will never come shopping again", Whumper threatened.

Whumpee looked at the floor, then at Whumper.

Whumper looked around, "fine you can choose two snacks, but that's it."

Whumpee celebrated by throwing their arms up, "yah!"

"You little crook, black mailing me", Whumper looked in the cart, "how did you get that much in their."

"I know how to sneak things past you", Whumpee winked, "I used to do it all of the time. It was a survival skill I learned."

"Like when?", Whumper pinched the bridge of their nose.

"Let's leave the past where it belongs", Whumpee grinned.

"Only when it's about you right? You proudly wave what I did like it's one of your pride flags", Whumper pushed the cart out of the way to grab something.

"Exactly", Whumpee grinned as they looked over the snacks they had hid in the cart, "though if you want to know one example, I'm the one who kept changing the station on your radio. Every night when you showered, I would sneak and change it."

"I bought a new radio because of you", Whumper bumped the cart into Whumpee, "let me guess you stole all of the batteries from the remotes to."

Whumpee laughed, "kind of, I helped your friend do it as a joke. They paid me twenty dollars to help them."

"What did you do with twenty dollars?", Whumper turned down another aisle, "you never left the house, I know that's for certain."

"I asked your friend to use it to buy me snacks for my stash", Whumpee smiled, "I held onto it for a while, then you started to starve me, so I gave it to them to get me food."

Whumper shook their head, "not going to lie, I'm kind of impressed."

"Thanks", Whumpee smiled, "I never thought I'd admit any of that, but here we are."

"Well you did what you did to survive", Whumper frowned, "I'm sorry you had to though."

"It's okay. Like I said, the past is past", Whumpee smiled, "I'm glad we can joke about it now."

"Same", Whumper winked.

On their way through the store, Whumpee noticed a pride display.

"Go ahead and look", Whumper grinned and watched Whumpee walk to it before following them.

"I wonder what this flag means", Whumpee held one up, "I've not seen it yet. It looks cool."

Whumper pulled out their phone, "it's for the...."

A group of people came by and glared at Whumpee.

"You know that's a sinner's flag right?", one of them pointed, "repent to the Lord you sinner."

Some others laughed at Whumpee.

Whumper sighed, "let those without sin throw the first stone."

Whumper glared at the group.

"You have no idea what you are talking about and hide behind a book when it's a mockery of who God truly was", Whumper scolded, "do you think God would be agreeing with you, or would They be hugging my friend here who you all just hurt. Now get out of my face before I give you a really big problem."

"You can't talk to us like that", an older person yelled.

"But you can talk to us like how you just did", Whumper grinned, "you are doing God a big disservice."

Whumper watched the group quickly walk away after that.

Whumpee made a sniffling sound.

Whumper looked at them and saw they had turned away to hide their tears.

"I'm sorry Whumpee, I'm sorry that happened", Whumper reached for them, and pulled them close to hug them, "you know they're wrong and closed minded."

Whumpee nodded, "it still hurts."

An employee came up, "I'm sorry for bothering you. I just witnessed what happened and called my manager and security. That group is being removed from the premises and will not be welcomed back. We are LGBQTA+ allies and will not let that slide. If you'll hang out right here, my manager wants to apologize in person."

"Yes that's fine, thankyou so much", Whumper nodded as they rubbed Whumpee's back.

The group shuffled by, all glared at Whumper and the store employee.

"You fucking queers are what's wrong with this country", one of them yelled.

"Your hate is what's wrong with this world", Whumper retorted.

"Whumpee, how about you pick something out in the pride area while we wait", Whumper smiled.

"You mean it?", Whumpee looked up in shock.

"Yes that's fine", Whumper smiled.

The manager came over and apologized for the scene and offered a discount on their items they were purchasing.

Whumper thanked them and the store employee for how the situation was handled.

"It's not a problem, we have to stick together", the manager smiled, "I'm glad they have an ally like you to take care of them."

Whumpee nodded, and grinned at Whumper.

Whumpee cuddled their new item close as they watched out of the window on the way home.

"Thankyou Master, I'm thankful for you speaking up for me", Whumpee smiled at Whumper.

"You're welcome, Whumpee. Let's get home", Whumper smiled.

Hello, MJ here. I want to be clear, I fully support the LGBQTA+ and I am proud to also be part of the community, I love this community so much. I strive to make sure my account is as safe as I know how to make it, and that's not just for LGBQTA+ community but for other communities as well.

I am, in fact, a gay Christian. I disagree with those who say God is against being gay, as it is everywhere in the world.

I received a comment today on YouTube that said that the LGBQTA+ is disgusting and against Biblical principles (it's not, the Bible was rewritten). This is not the first time I've heard this, I wish I had a dollar every time I heard it though.... I'd be rich."

Sorry I'm rambling...... Love is Love.... 🌈🌈🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ .... -MJ

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

[gorgon-goddess-of-chaos]

Movie Night

My need for soft Anti fluff is never ending. Write the fics you wanna read, I guess.

Antisepticeye x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 1134

“Baby, I’m home. I brought dinner!” “YAY!” Anti glitches into the entryway, scooping you up into his arms with a giggle. He holds you tight, kissing your cheeks until you’re laughing along with him. You know he misses you, being a stay-at-home demon, but until you’re able to find a way for him to go out in public safely, it’s what has to happen. At least while you’re at work. But on this particular day, you promised that you’d bring home a treat and the two of you would have a date night. You had grabbed some Chinese food, and a couple things from the local bakery.

He lets you set the food down, even if he refuses to put you down. It’s hard to resist his giggling laughter. You kick your legs as he holds your feet above the ground, squishing his face before meeting his lips in a giggly kiss. 

“I missed ye.” “I know. But I’m all yours tonight. Just like I promised.” Anti looks up at you, chin resting in your chest. He briefly nuzzles in, before putting you down with a kiss to your temple. You go wind down for the evening, changing into something more comfortable back in your shared bedroom. The door to his gaming room is open, the game paused and his chair still spinning from when he glitched to greet you at the door. It’s cute, seeing a physical representation of his excitement to see you. Reminds you a bit of a golden retriever with separation anxiety. 

Walking back out into the kitchen, you find him going through all the containers of Chinese food, separating the food for the two of you out into two piles. He’s also grabbed a package of batteries, already snacking on it. You walk up behind him, playing with his hair before wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. Anti spooks a little, before lighting up again and spinning to reciprocate the hug.

“Mine.” “Yes baby, I’m yours.” He buries his face in your hair, squeezing you tighter. The two of you stay there for a bit, letting him get a hug that he very clearly needed. The coffee maker bubbles behind you, as he rocks you back and forth. It’s quiet, rain hitting the window above the sink, distorting the street lamps outside as the droplets fall down the panes. You lift your head, looking up at him. “Baby? Are you okay?” “Ye… I just… needed ye here. Just fer a minute.” “It’s okay. But how about we go sit on the couch? Better cuddles, eat food, and we can watch our movies.” “Okay. Uhh-”

Anti pauses for a second, before lifting you up into his arms again. His hands are tucked under your thighs, hoisting them up as your legs wrap around his waist, arms around his shoulders. You laugh, holding on tight as he tries to balance bringing everything, including you, into the living room. You turn to see a pile of blankets and pillows, you assume that he set up while you were at work. He dumps you in the pile with a giggle, running away after he sets the food on the coffee table. You sputter, digging yourself out before flipping him off. Anti simply cackles, pouring coffee for the two of you and returning with your mugs. 

“Can we watch a horror movie?” “Sure, baby. Anything you want.” “Yay~”

You hand the remote to him as you get a blanket over your laps. His arm rests over your shoulders, letting you rest your head on his. Food rests in your laps over the blanket, mixing your food around in the container briefly with your chopsticks. Instead of a traditional movie, he selects an in-depth analysis of an analog horror series on YouTube. Several hours long, but it does intrigue you. He dims the lights, a soft orange around the room as he snuggles you closer to him. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t take you out somewhere, Anti. I know you’ve been itching to get out of the house.” “Eh, it’s fine. I more miss ye t’an anyt’in’. T’e ot’er people I don’t really care about.”

“So you’re okay with us just staying in and doing, this?” “T’e only ot’er t’ing I’d wanna do wit’ ye is play a game. But we do t’at all t’e time. Just found a new game t’at we could play t’get’er.”

“Oh! That sounds fun. Maybe tomorrow? I don’t work this weekend.” This is a detail you wanted to surprise him with tomorrow morning, but with how he was acting when you got home, it definitely feels like he needs it now. His smile returns, pleasantly surprised and squeezing you excitedly. His feet kick under the blanket, wrapping you tighter in his arms.

“We can do lots o’ t’ings t’is weekend!”

“Whatever you want. Maybe we can go to a quiet coffee shop, or maybe a pumpkin patch?”

“Ooooooh, pumpkins…”

Something you stick in your back pocket for Sunday, letting tomorrow be for gaming. Your attention goes back to the video essay on the television, settling back in. It’s a little refreshing, enjoying horror with him without worrying about jumpscares. There’s something about the video essay that makes it simultaneously more and less terrifying. Or maybe just terrifying in a different way, wiping away the dust on top of the lore to make you look deeper into the horrifying mess that lays underneath. Anti seems moderately invested, but he’s quite amused at how much you’re getting into it. You pass commentary back and forth between bites, theorizing in your own ways as you both gain new information. 

An hour or two in, you pause, cleaning up your dinner and getting the desserts from the kitchen. He grabs some more batteries as well, and pops some popcorn for you in the microwave. You refill your beverages, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he waits by the microwave. His cheeks blush, looking at you walk by with love in his eyes. When the popcorn is done, he walks back into the living room, hopping over the back of the couch to take his seat by your side again. You kiss him, settling into his arms as he lays you on top of him. His batteries rest on the coffee table as your popcorn sits on the floor, both snacks within easy reach considering your positioning. 

The two of you get sleepy laying on the couch after a couple more hours, nested beneath the blankets and thoroughly supported by the abundance of pillows that Anti brought out. You don’t even make it through the entire video, leaving YouTube autoplay to carry you through the night as you stay curled up together. Luckily, you have the entire weekend ahead of you.

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Something about Nico, he will always choose violence (when it comes to Ara) -Danny Words: 2,204 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Sign of the Times' -by Harry Styles

XXXII: *Sobbing* I'm Fine!

Leo is waiting for them at the top of the gangplank, he grins and waves at the group, then his eyes focus on Frank and her. The moment she reaches his side and Leo has to look up to meet her gaze, he flushes to a cherry tone Ara has never seen on his face.

He speaks in a strangled voice. "Ares?"

"Mars. I don't know, I doubt it matters," Ara says, self-conscious about their height difference. "How does it look?"

"You could crash my skull with your thighs," he blurts out.

Hazel gasps, fanning her face scandalized at his comment. "Gods, I hate you," Nico groans, guiding his flustered sister away from them.

Ara hurries past Leo and goes to her cabin to check her reflection, her breath hitches at the sight: she looks exactly like Arachne's tapestry minus the cape and hair. Yesterday she had baby fat around her face, her abs were a soft belly, and now she looks like a high school senior who never misses a workout. Arms toned and longer legs—she barely fits in the mirror, since it was designed for a girl that was 5'3.

"Holy crap," she breathes. Someone knocks on her door, and she finds Nico standing there, waiting to be let in. "I'm tall," she states in shock.

"Congrats. What was the fight about? The one you had with Lily?"

Ara knows this will bring an argument, but if it doesn't happen today, it'll happen at an even worse time. "I told her we couldn't trust you."

Nico visibly tenses. "I'm not surprised."

Ara turns to face him properly. "I had a good reason, you know what I'm talking about."

Nico's eyes darken. "My dad forbade me to talk about it. One of your patrons—your main patron, or did you forget?"

"How can I? Ever since that day, I've been the babysitter of his little prince."

"I told you I wanted no part of your stupid camp, but it was you who promised—"

"You needed a place to live—"

"You expected everyone to act like I don't creep them out."

"Oh, cry me a river," Ara walks past him. "I've got more important things to do than to listen to the same complaints on repeat."

"Crap!" Ara struggles with the damaged oar, she hisses when it scratches her palm. "Leo, I forgot my gloves, can you toss them over?"

Leo seizes her Octopi bag and rummages through its contents. "You didn't grab them? That's basic gear, Ara."

"I don't do basic," she responds.

Leo looks over the railing. "Say what?"

"It's like maths," Ara squints when she looks up. "Unnecessary."

The boy holds onto the handrail as he leans in dramatically. "You think is what?"

"Oh no..." She mumbles and tilts her head. "My scolding senses are tingling..."

Leo scowls. "Get your ass back here—and be careful."

He doesn't reprimand her like, ever, not even tries to, but his job is the one thing he takes seriously, so Ara climbs back on deck and dusts off her hands expecting the berating of the week. 

Leo spots the scrape on her hand and searches for his tool belt. "You almost lost an arm last December and you think being careful is unnecessary?"

"Oh, that was different," Ara watches Leo heal her. "Silly things—"

"Silly?" Leo looks up and his eye twitches. "Fixing the oars and giving Festus an upgrade ain't like changing the batteries of a TV remote, sweetheart. And maths? You need maths!"

She laughs nervously. "You okay?"

"Arae Jackson, that's negligence!" He exclaims. "Is this why they call you Dr Frankenstein back in camp?"

"Oh, you know about that?" She asks unbothered.

"That's it, you're not allowed to work on the repairs."

Her mouth opens in shock. "Leo, you know I'm a good repairperson, don't do this!"

"You heard me," he tries to take the harness off her, muttering grumpily. "Don't do maths, seriously..."

"Hey! Stand back!" Ara keeps him away. Leo is smaller than her now and he was never strong to begin with. "I'll finish the task whether I'm wearing the harness or not!"

"You're not helping yourself!" Nico speaks out of nowhere, both teens looking up to see him at the top mast.

"Stay out of this!" Ara seizes Leo's wrist. "Stop!"

It's kind of cute, seeing him angry over this. Reminds her of Mike a bit, which makes her feel kind of guilty. "Promise you'll be careful in the right way, not yours!"

Ara rolls her eyes. "Can I have my gloves, then?"

"Put them on before you go back," Leo crosses his arms. "I don't understand why Beckendorf made you Cabin Nine's right-hand girl if you ignore safety procedures."

"Beck had the knowledge, I had the spirit," she puts the gloves on with an amused expression. "Anyway... I need insulation stuff—the spongy one? And Industrial glue, and the..." She makes a gesture as if holding something and puffs some air out of her lips. "To fuse the bronze to the hull..."

"Insulation foam, industrial glue, metal welding kit—and bronze-welding rods to reattach the frame to the hull," the boy turns to get the goods.

Ara beams. "And welding goggles."

"'Course," Leo grabs stuff from his toolbox, the rest are from his magic belt. Ara stands there waiting. "Anything else?"

"Your hand in marriage?"

"Dang it, woman! You can't make me forget how irresponsible you are by love-bombing me!" Leo exclaims, handing the tools to her.

Ara puts the goggles on. "Seriously, Cabin Nine kids can tell what I'm talking about after a few tries, but you don't even think about it, that's awesome."

Leo looks away to hide his blush. "Your brain works similarly to mine, that's all. It's why we're attracted to each other in the first place."

It's nice to hear that's what Leo thinks about their situation. "We're soulmates." She says it so matter-of-factly that it makes Leo light up as much as the sun. Ara clears her throat and steps back. "Well, I'm going..."

"Yeah," Leo mumbles, a little smile playing on his face. "I'll be watching, my soon-to-be fiancé."

Above them, Nico groans again, but they both ignore him.

Leo has long forgotten he's supposed to be checking Ara's work while installing Festus's upgrade. Instead, he's just eyeing her, trying not to be obvious, but doing a terrible job.

He can't even hate the fact that she's taller than him by a lot. She's the only demigod that looks god-like in his eyes, Ara's beauty grows with every blessing, no smudge of dirt she gets from her hard work can take it away. When she moves, her body gets framed by the dying sunlight in a way that makes Leo lightheaded.

She's wearing the hair tie he made for her, holding her shiny brown locks in a loose braid, and the way she scrunches up her nose in concentration, the tip of her tongue poking out... The more he looks, the more his heart races. 

She was once out of his league, now she's out of everyone's orbit. She's skillful and experienced, and Leo has a hard time understanding why she would love someone as inconsequential as him.

"You should be careful."

Nico's voice comes to remind him not everything is perfect. Leo jumps out of his skin and swears in Spanish, he glares at the tall boy standing behind him. "Dude, can you not do that?"

Nico doesn't apologize before adding to his comment. "Ara's fool's gold."

Leo frowns. "What?"

Nico glances at the girl, he's angry at her for trying to convince Lily, his only friend, to stop trusting him. Two can play the same game. "She looks good, then you get closer and realize it's all pretend. You call her a doll, right?" He laughs shortly. "That's accurate. Ara likes playing with boys like you."

Leo's fists start to smoke. "Don't you mean boys like us?"

Nico's taken by surprise, a creepy smile forms on his face when he understands what Leo is insinuating. He won't clear up the misunderstanding, Leo has the same arrogant air Ara has when challenged, and is always far more entertaining to watch those kinds of people trip over their feet.

Nico steps closer. "I can get under her skin like no one else. Have you ever asked her why she loathes having me around? You should. She doesn't like to be questioned, so you'll get to see the real Arae."

"She's the General," Leo replies tensely. "You're not supposed to question her, smartass."

Nico's smirk grows. "I see why she likes you." The boy turns to leave. "Ask her."

"I know why she hates you," Leo says confidently, which causes Nico to laugh again.

"No, you don't," he reaches the stairs. "Ask her about the curse."

Ara takes a look at the finished product. "Good as new, right?"

Festus blows out steam and Ara recoils, feeling the air around her get hotter when he does that. She takes off the goggles and dries the sweat off her brow. 

"I'll take that as a yes."

The moon is high above but very thin, so Ara has a bit of trouble finding her way back to the deck, she doesn't notice Leo until she's right under the handrail. The boy's watching in silence with a scowl on his face. 

She jumps over the railing landing on both feet, then dusts off her hands, and nods at Leo. "Hey."

He walks over to the control board. "Hey."

"I'm done," she announces proudly. "I was very safe the whole time."

"Good job," he checks the monitor. "Festus's stable, so are the oars." 

Leo looks at her doing a quick scan. Ara is covered in sweat and grime, her cheeks are flushed... he can't think of any girl who would look better than she does like this, but Nico succeeded in his attempt to plant a seed of doubt, and Leo can't shake off the feeling that Ara has been lying to him about something.

Besides, he once overheard Percy and Ara talking, and her brother mentioned an old crush she used to have on Nico... Leo panicked and sneaked back to his cabin after hearing that, but the words stuck in his brain and he couldn't take them out.

Ara sighs. "I promise to be careful from now on, I'll use a calculator and everything..."

Leo's seen the way she looks at him lately, like it hurts to be near him. At first, he thought it was guilt because she'd decided to leave her camp, but now... What if the love's fading out between them?

"I..." he starts quietly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "How do you feel?"

"Great!" She smiles. "I'd missed it, getting my hands dirty reminded me of home, it made me feel useful."

"You're always useful," he replies. "But you definitely have a natural aptitude for mechanics."

"I was fated to," Ara replies casually. "Thank you for letting me do this."

"You don't have to thank me. You're the General."

"Yeah, well..." she continues, now trying to ignore his weird vibes. "I'll go take a shower before dinner."

Leo blurts out the first thought in his mind. "I didn't know someone could make me this stupid."

Leo would rather jump into Tartarus than tinker with something that doesn't need fixing... but what if it does? Sometimes a machine doesn't look broken, but it malfunctions anyway. He can't deny that their relationship feels... unbalanced. A creation jumpstarted without all the necessary precautions, and there's a buzzing coming from it that Leo can't identify, but it's making his skin crawl.

Ara is unsure of where this is going. "What's wrong?"

He can't think when her eyes are on him like this, he has this urge to make her smile, and he doesn't know where that comes from. Sure, he loves making people laugh, but with Ara... it almost feels like an obligation.

He struggles to form a proper sentence. "I think you're lying to me."

Ara pales, which is not a good sign. "What?"

"You wanted to jump off the cliff," he continues. "And you tried to leave us when Reyna cornered us at the Fort—"

"Leo—"

"Let me finish," he presses anxiously. "You weren't surprised when Nemesis gave you that weird warning, and you've been acting even weirder since we rescued di Angelo—"

"I—"

"Don't lie to me," he demands. "Your prophecy mentions a curse—The curse of love. Does that mean—"

"This is Nico talking," Ara's eyes darken. "I thought he was ending his shift, but he came to taunt you, didn't he?"

Leo feels like throwing up, but more than that, he feels insulted. "So what if he did?"

"He wants us to get into an argument," Ara steps forward. "Don't let him do this!"

Leo steps back. "Then answer my question."

Unexpectedly, her eyes brim with tears. "I can't."

Some part of him that he's not even aware of triggers, Leo is too distraught to think, his heart is breaking. "You said promises were important to you, but you're not keeping yours."

"There are things that I need to keep under control," she speaks with a trembling voice.

"What things?" He asks bitterly. "Me?"

"Don't say that!" She squeezes the gloves in her hands. "We've failed too many times, Leo. I can't risk it. As your General, I'm telling you to stay out of it."

Leo doesn't like how she says that, her voice weighs like it carries centuries of painful memories, and it sounds like Ara thinks Leo will ruin her plans, and that stings.

"Chiron was right," he says aghast. "Your ambition blinds you. No matter what the outcome is, it's never enough, is it?"

Ara can't stand another second of that conversation, so she abandons it, and Leo doesn't stop her.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

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[peaskikio2]

Ugh… day 3

By far the hardest day.

Day 3 I ended up moving onto the gauntlets I wanted to make because they’re the most detailed thing Im going to bring into this costume. All the supplies had arrived and I was way too excited to get started on designing them.

The vision I had for these gauntlets was something I had never done before with any of my cosplays, I really want to implement some really cool effects into them, ones that reflect Acid Storm and his abilities.

These gauntlets are probably going to be the most detailed thing about my costume, as far as technology goes… and I’ve never had to dabble with anything more than LEDs… and not even in depth…

I’ve only ever bought remote controlled light buttons that I didn’t have to wire or anything because I have no idea how to do any of that! And I also should mention that I’m TERRIBLE at geometry and math which is like… super important when building a 3D object…

That is why this day had me STRUGGLING.

I had to figure out how exactly I wanted to make these gauntlets look because not only are they going to be the casing of a little battery pack for LEDs, but they’re also going to house a fog machine that’s the length of my entire forearm.

Fortunately I had an idea of how I was going to approach it… unfortunately that tactic did not work.

I had to start with just a base outline of my arm and I needed to figure out the measurements I was looking to achieve, that part was easy, I can measure objects no problem… but I have no idea how to translate that measurement into angles and DEFINITELY NOT CIRCLES.

The point here was to make the gauntlets as close to Acid Storm’s forearms as possible, and this is how it started.

I took the measurements of my wrists first, and attempted to translate that into a circle. Thinking I was a genius and that I had all my numbers correct, I cut out the circle on a piece of cardboard first then realized that it was not the size I needed it to be, it was far too huge. 😭

I tried this TWICE and eventually got frustrated and moved to paper cause cardboard was too much of a pain to cut out with an exacto knife just to try and estimate the size of a circle, which was my next tactic after failing on trying to get an actual mathematic measurement of my wrist.

So I just kept cutting holes into paper purely guessing and just made them to fit the size of my wrist in a snug way…

After that the rest was a piece of cake because I just drew out a bunch of squares which are much easier to match sides with to build the frame of the gauntlets.

I then made little tabs on them with duck tape so I could make a paper version of what I was looking for! I then cut through the tabs to get the individual pieces again and then traced them into foam!

I also made a little container for the big centerpiece of the gauntlets, my fog machine! That way it could sit in a compartment comfortably inside the gauntlet.. after I cut those rectangles out of cardboard, I also transferred them to foam.

With all the shapes cut out, and after a lot of time with gluing, I finally got a design I am proud of…! I did have to alter twice because my measurements were a bit off but it fortunately didn’t ruin the project LOL and I could easily add pieces!

With that being done, I cut out the base where my upper forearm will sit and finished the frame… all I have to do now is just add the two side faces! One will be removable for easier access into the gauntlet should I need to change out the fog machine or battery pack!

So here’s the final result!

Thanks for joining me on 3 day!! I still have so much to do… but! I did take a cool picture of the LEDs I plan to put in them! Hopefully you can see the vision I’m going for!

[theotherbuckley]

WIP Wednesday

Okay so I know I said I combined tuesday/wednesday but then everyone tagged me and I ended up writing some of the Buck breakdown part of the Buck running fic and I also changed my blog name sooo despite it being late on a Thursday here is my WIP Wednesday :)

Tagged by: @disasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @wikiangela @eddiediaztho @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05

(p.s theotherluciferr -> theotherbuckley)

It started because the coffee was too hot. The coffee was too hot and that wasn’t really a problem on its own. But then Buck tried blowing on his coffee to cool it down like every other person does. Except the universe was just trying to piss Buck off today so he blew a little too hard and the coffee split over the rim. Once again, not really a problem. He turned the cup around and licked the bit that dribbled down the side except he didn’t manage to get the whole thing so it dribbled again and he licked it again. And he tilted his hand a little too much and spilt some more and—

He doesn’t really know what happened. Just that one second the mug was in his hand and the next it was shattered across the floor.

And then he’s looking at the unwashed mugs sitting in the kitchen sink. Their unbroken form, mocking him. It’s not his fault.

One.

Two.

Three.

Smashed against the wall just like the first.

If someone asked him why, he’d say it felt good. It felt good to keep on breaking everything. He’d say it helped.

It was only logical then, to keep throwing things.

So he stands, in an apartment that’s just too lonely and never quite home, tears streaming from bloodshot eyes into a tongue burnt from coffee he didn’t even get to finish. He spots his reflection on the TV screen. The person staring back is not him. It’s the shell of a broken man whose demons he can no longer out run.

He throws the remote at the TV.

Watches as the screen shatters, the remote breaks apart and the batteries roll along the floor, under the couch that was never really him.

He claws at the couch cushions until his fingers cut in. He tears them apart until he sees more stuffing than couch. And he screams.

And there you have it… the first iteration of some of the Buck breakdown :) enjoy

I'll tag some people but no pressure because it's well into Thursday but if you haven't already shared pls do :) @jeeyuns @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @housewifebuck @crowleywasagryffindor and anyone I may have missed

[threadsun]

Ok, Sydney was robbed of a proper corruption ending so I'm here to write him one

We're actually going to keep the part where his original story "ends" You two make it to the prayer room get high and...fuck? weirdly hump each other while you're crazy stupid high? Who's to say, but that happens, ok? But after a while something just doesn't sit right with Sydney. Sure it felt like you two had sex but he's still a virgin, aside from any bruises you two might have left on each other there's no real way to tell if that all really happened or not. Not to mention how fucking sick of the church he's getting

He's been told all his life that people like you are evil sinners who will never reach haven, but those nights spent with you are haven! You are his haven, why should the church's opinion matter to him anymore? He's found salvation between your thighs and he'd rather die before letting go

He tells you his new plan while you two are in the library, just like last time. He tells you he's done with the church, he's going to revoke his vows tonight with you by his side, and after he does you're going to deflower him, properly this time. No tricks, no incense, no prayer room. Just the two of you fucking till dawn

Now, he could just leave the church quietly but he wants it to be a spectacle. He wants to see the shock and horror on those priests faces when he spits out the name of his god. and he does, oh fuck does he ever. With you by his side Sydney calls for a surprise sermon, making sure everyone in the temple is watching as he grabs you by the collar and makes out with you. No more having to keep his lips to your cheek, no more hiding, no more fear!

He tells them all that he won't be coming back to the temple after today, so he might as well leave them with a bang. He pulls a list from his pocket and reads off every sinful act he's seen within the temple with places, dates, and names. He leaves you two's sins for last, letting you tell them all about your nights spent in the prayer room. The last words Sydney speaks to them are used to clear your name, sure you were to one who temped him but if he hadn't wanted sin in the first place neither of you would be here right now

Everyone is too shocked to even stop you two from leaving, the both of you strutting down to Elk street. You both make your way to the porn shop, inside waits a rose petal trail to a blow up mattress. Sydney says it's the best he could do on such short notice, or he tries to any way, it's hard to make out what he's saying with his tongue down your throat. You to have sex that night, real sober sex, and you finally get to deflower him

After that night Sydney's schedule changes quite a bit. Seeing as he doesn't go to church any more he spends his after school hours at the porn shop everyday. Just because he's no longer a man of faith doesn't mean he's any less of a hard worker. He pours his heart and soul into making new and exciting toys for the lovely little sinners of this town, making sure to give them all a little test drive on you, of course

If you're in any sex work he also asks you for new ideas or needs in the market that haven't been met yet. He takes every cretic and suggestion from you seriously, even the ones you meant as a joke (Something something balloon dildo, that anon still haunts my nightmares) but he makes all of them work great!

His favorite toys to test are vibes because to get a good idea of how long their battery life lasts and how good the vibrations are he makes sure to wear them all day, he even measures their orgasms per minute, he's very through. He loves the ones with remote controls the most because then he can give them to you to fiddle with during class

I haven't played too much of the game so if there's any questions I left unanswered feel free to let me know and I'll make an addendum. Also yes, I've been trapped in your walls for sometime now. Let me out, please? I'll give you forehead kisses, and uh...cookies?

👀 OH I LOVE THAT!!! Sydney deserves to make out with you in front of the entire church and then leave for good >:3c And him putting all that work ethic into the store and testing toys and !!!!! it's all so good!!!!

Enticing me with forehead kisses and cookies.... you drive a hard bargain, but okay. You're allowed out of the walls :3c

[gealach-in-a-misty-world]

In a country where mages have all the power and healers supposedly only exist to support them, Clematis—a talented healer—is despised for her past attempts to defy the mageocracy. In her early thirties, she’s already on year seven of a life sentence for treason. But when the most powerful mage in the nation suddenly loses all her magic, the government wants unconventional Clematis to help get it back. The mage is a tall, distant woman called Wist, and Clematis knows her all too well. They used to be classmates. Best friends. Perhaps more. Wist is also the person who reported Clematis for leaking state secrets. She’s the reason Clematis spent the last seven years in prison. Clematis wants revenge for her betrayal, but she wants freedom even more. She’s got thirty days to recover Wist’s magic: miss the deadline, and she’ll be shunted back to prison for the rest of her life. Yet attempting to resurrect Wist’s lost magic will force her to face the real reason why Wist betrayed her—and to face her unresolved, unspoken feelings for the mage who stabbed her in the back and walked away.

"I never forgot the sound of you calling for me. Not for a second."

Hiyodori's The Lowest Healer and the Highest Mage is a sci-fi/fantasy hybrid that combines a compelling protagonist and sole POV character with a surprising plot that keeps you on your toes as it slowly unveils the background of the characters and their history. Clematis and Wist navigate the consequences of an old betrayal that put them at odds with each other, while trying to solve a problem that might prove to be fatal for their world.

Clematis is a delight, caustic and angry and incredibly competent. Her old friend Wist is remote and mysterious and she has secrets which will change everything Clematis thinks she knows. Their relationship, in the present and the snippets of the past, is a compelling one, and so is the way they learn to trust each other again. The supporting cast does its job, with two very fleshed-out and interesting characters in the form of a friend Clematis made more recently, and a Healer that Wist trusts to treat her.

The snippets of world-building paint a vivid picture, albeit a fragmented one, that I hope to see explored more in the other books of the series. The contrast and politics of the usage and abuse of magic, with Healers as glorified batteries for Mages that, at least in the nation where the characters live, have no system in place to check their treatment of Healers, makes for an interesting conflict.

The Lowest Healer and the Highest Mage is a captivating novella.

✨ 4 stars

[You can find more of my reviews about queer speculative fiction on my blog MISTY WORLD]

[chibrary]

today in chontent: july 30th

source: motorsport.com & twitter series: 2014, karting

In 2014, Jules wrote a series of columns for Motorsport.com following his quest within F1:

"Starting today, Jules Bianchi will guide the readers of JA on F1 on a unique journey of discovery of Formula 1, as seen through the eyes of one of the best young driving talents on the world motorsport scene. Jules has been a driver with the Marussia F1 Team for a year and a half, fulfilling one of his boyhood dreams, to drive at the pinnacle of the sport. He has another dream to fulfill, one with a red tone to it; to drive for the famous Scuderia Ferrari. Since 2009 Jules has been part of the Ferrari Driver Academy and a few weeks ago he was called in to an official test at Silverstone for the Maranello team."

His first article was posted in July 2014, titled "Voyage to the centre of Formula 1":

Jules Bianchi writes: “Realizing your dreams is one of the most beautiful things that can happen to a person and I am happy to have fulfilled the biggest dream, which is to drive in F1. I have been dreaming of it since I was a kid but only when I started racing single seaters did I realize that my hopes could become a reality. If you had told me this would happen, when I was 13 years old, I would not have believed you.

But I’ve done it and I’m half way through my second season in the top category and I want to try to take all of you behind the scenes and show you my life and my journey, to show you what it means to be part of this special world, which seems so remote and unattainable.

Let's start by saying that to race in Formula 1 is something that gives me a lot of excitement: this is the first word that comes to mind. The second is professionalism: if you want to excel you have to be professional in every little detail and that is true for us drivers as much as for all those who work in the various roles. It 's something that I realized immediately; right from the first time I was able to see up close how Ferrari operates. Even at Marussia, although the scale of the operation is certainly different from the Scuderia, the level of professionalism is really high.

Ours is a very tough sport, where if you do not always give 100%, whatever the circumstances, you risk falling behind straight away. This means that you always need the utmost concentration, both when working on the track and when you are free from specific commitments, because you can never back off. This is why ' if I have to choose a third word to associate with Formula 1 I would say tiredness: not only physical - to drive these cars is not exactly a breeze and to do this job you have to work a lot on athletic training, even during the race weekend - but, more important, mental tiredness.

I never get bored by the routine; it 's true that the Grand Prix weekend is a bit like a theatre show, which you repeat in exactly he same format every time, in nineteen different venues. But I don’t mind this repetition at all.

The two-week summer break comes at just the right time. We’ve been on the go, travelling the world, pretty much since the end of January, when I started driving in the winter tests. But now we can kick back a little and try to recharge the batteries for the second half of the season.

In the last few races I could really see our guys in the pit garages beginning to feel fatigued and I too cannot wait to get a rest. I'm not planning anything special, not even to celebrate my 25th birthday on August 3; a few days at home in Geneva with the family and then a little sunshine with friends at the beach somewhere, but not to some far distant place with more time zone changes - I’ve had plenty of that already and more lies in wait for me from late August to late November.

When I have some free time I like to play sports with my friends. I always try to organize a small competition, either karts or playing squash or football: this is what I will be up to before restarting the engines at Spa, where we’ll race in the Belgian Grand Prix.

Of course I have some time now to think about what has happened in this first part of the season because it is not that you can completely clear Formula 1 out of your head, even on vacation.

I'm happy with how things have gone so far: we have made a big step forward compared to last year and you can begin to see the results. The points finish in Monte Carlo, with ninth place was definitely the best moment and it was important to be able to get into Q2 twice (the second part of qualifying for the top 16 cars) in Silverstone and a few days ago at the Hungaroring: it means that we are approaching the core group even though the distance is still quite wide.

The worst day? That’s an easy one - Sunday in Montreal where I was unable to complete even the first lap, boy what a shame ..

Another beautiful moment was the Silverstone test with Ferrari. Putting on those scarlet overalls with the Prancing Horse on the chest is always an unbelievable feeling, as is climbing into the cockpit. I’ve done it before but the emotion is very powerful, very beautiful.

For me Ferrari is like a second family and to drive full time with that Prancing Horse remains my goal, my ultimate dream.

Will I ever get to realize that dream? I don’t know. But given that I have fulfilled my first goal of driving in F1, why not aspire to fulfilling the even bigger dream?

Until next time..

Jules

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

july 4, 2021 7:30 p.m. adam's house

[wyatt] i'm gonna ask again...

[grant] alright, well, let me put it this way. what i didn’t like was very, very specific to me. it was a me thing and you are totally different than me. we are different people and the time period won’t even remotely be the same for us, so things will have changed. so, the experience i had isn’t going to be the one you would have. it’s not worth talking about because it just doesn’t matter.

[wyatt] boo, that’s not an answer.

[grant] okay, yeah, i hated it. still, i would absolutely, like, with every fiber in my being and all of my heart encourage you to go play college hockey if you’re interested. and yes, at the school i went to, if you’re interested in that school in the future. it’s so far off from now that you shouldn’t worry about it but you know what your dreams are and you should follow them. don’t ever listen to anyone else. do what you want. you know yourself best.

[grant] the only thing i'd say–and this goes for literally everything in life–is that if you do something and think it’s going to be amazing and you find out it’s not, trust yourself enough to leave and change paths. don’t stay with something if you’re not having a good, healthy, or safe time.

[grant] now i'm really going to get off my soapbox. i'm not here to lecture you. boring! gross! i'm supposed to be the fun uncle.

[wyatt] safe? did you get arrested or something? my friend at school has a big brother in college and he's in jail for selling cocaine.

[ezra] HAHAHAHA!

[grant] uhh–

[grant] i don’t know what to say but, uhh, i have never been arrested.

[wyatt] so, you didn't get arrested like papa?

[grant] you know about uncle paddy going to jail?

[ezra] he has his mugshots in his car!

[grant] oh, i forgot about that.

[wyatt] wait, why did you call him–

[grant] uncle paddy?

[wyatt] he’s your dad.

[grant] oh, no, buddy, i'm about to destroy your whole worldview…

[ezra] hey, the dragon is here! geez, the head chopping thing took soooooo long.

[grant] yay, alduin time! RIP to the others, though.

[grant] but, um, buddy, he’s not my dad. and your dad isn’t my brother.

[wyatt] liar!

[grant] i didn’t know you didn’t know!

[wyatt] how’s he not your dad? you wear glasses like him! and you laugh like him!

[ezra] wait, what?

[grant] i guess you’re confused because he calls me his son? and, well, your dad and his siblings and i call each other by, like, sibling-y terminology.

[grant] my mom is your grandfather and aunt bridget’s older sister.

[ezra] no! great-grandma aoife and great-grandpa joseph don’t have another–

[grant] no, no, they do.

[ezra] you're lying! liar liar pants on fire!

[grant] i am telling the honest truth! and i'm sorry to surprise! i really thought you knew.

[ezra] well, uh, you can still be uncle grant because you’re cool. you fly planes and do cool stuff like that, and you’re nice and funny and good at video games.

[grant] aww, i still make the cut? i'm still good enough to be an uncle?

[wyatt] of course! but if you become less funner than uncle alex, then you’re gonna get fired from the uncle job.

[grant] at least i know the terms of the contract!

[grant] but damn, you don’t like alex?

[wyatt] he’s kind of annoying. and he and lilly have a crusty white dog. i'm scared of crusty white dogs. they look evil. they’re gonna eat my limbs in my sleep.

[grant] that’s very oddly specific.

[ezra] i'm scared of sporks.

[grant] sporks?

[ezra] and i don’t like ladders.

[grant] okay, but sporks?

[ezra] it’s a fork but uglier and stupider.

[grant] you know what? valid. you’re not wrong.

[wyatt] i hate clowns, too!

[grant] also valid.

[wyatt] you aren’t scared of anything?

[grant] lithium-ion battery fires.

[wyatt] what?

[ezra] that’s a lot of big words.

[grant] yeah, lithium-ion battery fires, especially on a plane, and people being mean to me. germs, too. can’t forget germs.

[wyatt] if i sneeze into an open hand, would it make you cry?

[grant] yeah, a little bit.

[grant] don’t make me summon the crusty white dogs.

[ezra] summon! summon! summon!

[dokidokitsuna]

I love the gone au so much!! If I may ask though- since we’ve seen Gooey, what happens to Kirby, Meta, and Dedede? (And also, where’s Galacta Knight in all of this? Is he Morpho’s body/host or is he still trapped?)

Oho, somebody finally asked~

Back in the beginning, I actually considered keeping one of these guys around for the Master Crown to take its anger out on. Like, I feel like that's the only purpose they might serve in its present-day story; to give it a moment like "ugh, everything's going wrong and I feel bad about myself...oh look; it's one of those 'heroes' from before who's supposed to be dead! Maybe if I go over and red-mist them it'll cheer me up~"

^Which was a fun thought, admittedly. ^^ But it'd be a little mean, even for me, and later on I came up with the more unique concept of having Gooey be the 'torch-bearer' for that whole character set, and I liked that better. Verdict: Dream Land's heroes are all long dead.

Dedede, MK: Brutally murdered; possibly tortured beforehand. I think the MC would notice the power hierarchy between these two and Kirby pretty early on, and decide to use the easier opponents' suffering to wear down the tougher opponent. ...Of course, I think trying something like this with Kirby would backfire pretty hard. ^^; Nevertheless, we know who came out the winner in the end, so...

Bandana Dee: I'm throwing him in as an honorable mention because he's technically one of the four protagonists, and I wanted to make it clear that no (relatively...) horrific fate befell Bestest Boy in particular. ◡_◡ I've decided that the other three bought time for him to escape the final fight before things got really bad, and he just ended up in the normal soul-draining mind-prison with all the other minor characters.

Kirby: ...I'm not entirely sure. He's definitely not alive anymore...but is he actually dead...? I feel like...it would make sense for the Master Crown to turn him into something. ^^ Like a sort of magic energy source, or 'appliance', for lack of a better word. Although he was defeated, the special Kirb-power that he holds continues to flow from his remains, like a dead body that never stops bleeding... Of course this begs the question, what would the MC do with this strange unlimited power source? Something disrespectful, I think. ^^; Like it'd shove it in the back of its evil dimension wizard closet and only bring it out when one of its evil dimension wizard remotes runs out of battery power; something like that. XD

Although, deep down, maybe in the far reaches of its subconscious where Magolor's old feelings reside, I think it would want to keep 'Unknown Kirby Remnant' around as a memento. Because I've always felt that Kirb and Mago have a special friendship, which I'm sure must transcend time and space. ❤

Galacta Knight: Because RtDL predates the point where Morpho absorbed him, anything could have happened. Maybe the Master Crown's victory created a butterfly effect (heh) that completely changed GK's fate...

...My suggestion is that he ended up in Star Dream's custody. ^^ I mean, SD's already able to summon him in Robobot, so it feels right to me. Maybe during its expanded conquest it gained the necessary skills to contain him successfully this time around, and even to use him as a research subject. Picture this: Mecha-lacta Knight! Or...Giga-lacta Knight? Whatever; you get it~

[the-fiction-witch]

Remote

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Smut

Concept Remote Controls

Smut Masturbating / vibrators / screaming / non consent ? un controlled? I guess

I yawned as I laid on y/n's sofa, it wasn't the most comfortable of places but I made do. I had to be out of my house for the next few weeks but I wasn't too angry. At least the landlord is finally going to actually deal with the rats coming in from next door. But it meant I packed my stuff and had to be out for three weeks. My original plan was to just stay in my old room at my mum's but they're getting building work done. Then my second plan was to stay at a hotel but because of some stupid thing going on I couldn't find a hotel for miles. So I gave up and was sleeping on y/n's sofa in her little apartment but I didn't complain for no reason too. It's better than being out in my car I guess. 

I heard her bedroom door open and she slowly shuffled out "hey sleepy"

"Hello Thomas" she yawns with a sniffle or two as she poured herself a tea in her little slippers and her nightie her hair up in a bun it was clear just from her face she was still sick. 

"Ohh no you're still sick?"

"Umm humm" she nods coming over so I moved my legs off the sofa to give her a little space 

"Shouldn't you, you know. Go to the doctor?" I suggest

"You go to the doctor" she pouts between sips 

"Fine I only suggested"

"I think I'm just going to have a bath and a little nap. You can entertain yourself right?"

"Course you rest up don't worry about me" I told her 

She smiled and headed off back to her room so I grabbed her switch controller and just played video games for a while, but I gave up after a while rubbing my eyes as I glanced around for something else to do in her little apartment, I wasn't really hungry yet so no point going to the kitchen so I just sat up and glanced at the table and the pile of small remote controls I grabbed the first and it didn't say what it was for so I clicked it immediately I heard a whirr and I glanced to the side seeing I had started the Cd part of her hifi system so I quickly shut it off. 

"Okay. Music remote. So what are you then?" I pondered grabbing the next remote giving it a click and immediately the lamp changed colour "oohh lamp remote. Okay so what is your function little thing?" I asked grabbing the next remote and giving it a click seeing the dvd player draw come out "ah dvd player. Cool. What about?" I asked grabbing the next one but nothing notable happened so I pressed again but nothing "come back to the red remote, what about you?" I asked grabbing the next one and I saw the sky box light up "ah! Sky remote good good now I need to find the TV remote I can watch TV" I grabbed the next remote but that changed a different lamps colour "damn it y/n how many of these do you need" I sighed grabbing the next one and the TV came oh "wooo! Success," I smiled grabbing the remote so I could find something to watch after a while I settled on an old top gear and I glanced back a the little red remote giving it another click but still nothing "what do you do?" I pondered moving of all around the room often clicking trying to see if it did anything at all but it never seemed to do anything I gave it a bit and even checked or had batteries in and gave it another once ado the small apartment and as I clicked it I heard something. a very suggestive sound. From her bedroom door. 

"Uuhhhh!" 

For a moment I was convinced it was my imagination but I didn't move an inch still pointing the remote in the direction of her bedroom door and clicking it again

"Uuuuuuuhhh!" 

"Oooh… that's what you do little remote?" I smirked before clicking it up as high as it would go so much so I could hear it vibrating in her room 

"Ahhhhhhh uuuuuuuhhh!" She squealed 

I hit my lip hard leaning my head on the sofa just listening to her though the door "uuuuuuuhhh uuughhhh!" She screamed her bed creaking where she must have been arching her back in pleasure

"Fuck it-" I groaned pulling back my blanket and pushing down my shorts immediately taking a grip of my half hard erection stroking softly listening to her cute little squeals I smirked a little looking at the remote and the power I had in my hand and I dropped it all the way down to almost nothing listening to her little whines 

"Uuuhhh-" 

I waited a little still stroking myself before turning it up halfway 

"Uuughhhh!" She squealed excitedly

"Fuck- you bad bad little girl" I growled my strokes now becoming far more intense jerking myself off just listening to her I let her get loud before dropping it down to almost nothing again listening to her cute little whines before turning it up again, I kept doing it for a good four minutes just edging her everytime she got close but I was doing it to myself too slow down whenever I turned hers down too leaving me as desperate for my own as I'm sure she was for hers I turned it all the way uuaa high as it would go hearing the sound of it vibrating in her room as my hand worked on its own 

"Uuughhhh uhhhh uuuuuuuhhh!" She squealed

I could tell she was close and so was I so I forced my hand off myself and turned it off completely bitting on the remote a little as I did my hips bucking so desperate to cum and hearing her adorable frustrated like whines but I couldn't take it anymore I pulled my shorts up and went to her bedroom door forcing it open seeing her laid in her bed wrapped up in the cotton covers she had clearly been sleeping so peacefully having her little nap before we started our game and now she was on her back sweaty with her legs open showing where she had the matching red toy both inside her and on her clit kept in by her little cotton panties 

"Hi" I smirked leaning on her door frame 

"Hi" she blushed hard trying to hide herself a little but she was far too desperate to move but she quickly saw the remote in my hand "ah I was wondering where that was" 

"You knew exactly where it was" I smirked 

"I couldn't be sure" she blushed

"Liar" I smirked crawling into her bed with her "say it" I cooed kissing her sweet neck 

"What?" She blushed hard wrapping her legs around me as she did letting me grind Against her hard 

"Say you want me baby." I growled in her ear 

"Not want" she smirked snatching the remote from my hand "need" she whispered seductively turning it on high and given I was grinding on her I felt the harsh vibration too watching her head roll back as she squealed

"Ughhhhhhh you bad bad little girl" I growled forcing the remote out her hand turning it off before ripping her panties off and pulling the toy out throwing it to the floor immediately slipping inside her 

"Ahhhhhh! Thomas!" -