#i swear to fucking gods when will these people stop

[gh0stsp1d3r]

pls do rafes revenge part 4🙏🏻🙏🏻

Rafes revenge part 4

part one, part two, part three

WARNINGS: manipulative!rafe, fighting, season 1 Rafe, probably read the first three parts to get it, mentions of sex and virginity.

You hated yourself for it. Not only did you sell your virginity for 2000 bucks to your brothers enemy and were hooking up with him for a month, you were now sleeping in the same bed as him every night, staying in the same house as him.

After your brother kicked you out, you had nowhere to go. You were completely, utterly alone. You were distraught, and the one to pick up the pieces, was of course, Rafe.

The motherfucker had managed to weasel his way into your life, manipulating you and using you all for some pussy and revenge on your brother.

Without even realizing it, after he took your virginity, you felt attached to the man. His plan was working. Because soon, people began to see the both of you pop up in places together, almost as if you were together.

It infuriated your brother, and that’s how you ended up in the situation you were currently in.

You bit back all of the distaste you currently had for the situation, Rafe and the rest of some of his kook friends all hanging out near the beach, drunk off their asses and being loud douchebags, hollering at anyone who passed.

You had your arms crossed over your chest, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to roll your eyes when you heard another shout from Topper.

Rafe glanced down at you with a smirk, sensing your annoyance rather quickly.

“The fucks up with you?” He slurred out, you looking up at him now.

“Nothing.” You lied.

“You’re fuckin’ lying. What’s wrong? This-“ he chuckled, motioning to his friends around him. “This too much for you?”

“Shut up.” You huffed, him laughing loudly at you.

“Wow!” Kelce laughed along with Rafe.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, grabbing your arm roughly, stopping you from walking. He leaned down, the smell of alcohol heavy as he murmured down to you.

“Listen, I- I own you now.” He pointed to himself, “Did you forget whose house you’re at? And I can- like easily post those audios of you. If you want. Do you want that?”

You didn’t reply, but he could see the way your bottom lip trembled.

“I said, do you want that, y/n?” He asked louder this time, you swallowing and shaking your head at him.

“I didn’t think so. So… quit being a bitch, loosen up…” he told you, holding out a beer bottle for you. “Got it?”

You nodded again, taking the beer bottle from his hands, causing the corners of his lips to turn up.

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout, baby.” He wrapped his arms around you with a smile, you downing the beer bottle in your hands to hide the way the tears slid down your face, before wiping them with the back of your hand, plastering on a small fake smile.

It was then that none other than John B who ran into Topper, the both of them bickering with each other, all of the other kooks and pogues gathering around each other.

John B glanced at you when he got shoved, Rafes grip on you tightening, pulling you even closer to his side. He had this cocky smirk on his face, while you stared down at the ground, too embarrassed to even look your brother in his eyes.

He scoffed, all of the other pogues looking at you now. Your friends.

“I swear to god, Rafe-“ John B murmured, walking up to him before Kelce held him back, Rafe laughing in his face.

“Man! It’s like midsummers all over again.” Rafe retorted, before JJ started shouting at Kelce, both of them beginning to fight, tumbling onto the ground.

Your brother and some other kook began to fight, Sarah and Kiara also starting to argue with two of the girls. It was a mess.

You watched with wide eyes, Rafe holding you close as you both backed up. He was chuckling and cheering them on as you watched with fear on your face.

“Best his ass, Kelc!” Rafe whooped, you watching with your eyebrows furrowed.

You let out a gasp when you saw your brother take a particularly hard punch to the face, you hiding your face into Rafe’s side, turning away from it all.

He chuckled at your reaction, letting you hide in his shoulder, letting you rely on him. It was all slowly falling into his hands, he was practically getting it all spoon fed to him.

You all heard the sirens not too far, all of them getting their last push’s and shove’s before they stood up, John B glancing back at you. You looked at him, your eyes pleading with him.

“Don’t come back home, y/n!” He told you, hints of hate in his eyes. Your bottom lip trembled and your eyes began to water at his bitter spoken words. Rafe’s eyebrows raised, this really was too easy.

You began to sob into Rafe’s chest, your tears soaking his shirt.

He smirked, leaning down, his lips ghosting against the outer shell of your ear as he spoke lowly.

“What do you say we go home, hm?”

I’m tagging some people who wanted to see the next parts/showed interest in some of the other parts. if you want to be put in or removed from the taglist for this, lmk and I will (: !

@theoraekenslover @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321 @theoraekenslover @ilovemensomuchagh

[bloodhoundsandplagues]

Stolen scarves

Ekko x reader

Summary: you've had a long day, and it's nowhere near over- all you want is some warmth from your favourite scarf. But when you find the scarf missing and a cryptic note, you will stop at nothing to retrieve it. ▸Set at an undefined time, no spoilers!!, no use of Y/N, gender neutral reader

Warnings: use of the word fuck, possibly suggestive if you squint and I mean SQUINT !

A/N: mostly wrote this for my best friend who has been a slut in my messages for this man (slash affectionate). enjoy all u other people

It’s been a long day running errands for the Firelights, and you’re pretty damn desperate for a nap. 

However, that won’t be happening for a long time. You still have outrageous amounts of tasks to complete, and you’ve agreed to do multiple favours for friends- one being a trip to the other side of the Undercity, which you are very much not looking forwards to. 

You sigh and run a hand through your hair, stepping into the Firelight sanctuary for a brief moment of peace. Although you are not yet able to lie down and go to sleep, you can still take a moment to relax your muscles (and find your scarf- it’s fucking freezing.) 

You see a small group crowded around a small fire (set up far away enough from the tree to not be any danger to it). You make your way over, waving at a Firelight on a hoverboard redoing the paint on the mural. You take a seat on a bench and stretch your legs out, groaning. God, you hadn’t realised how sore you were until now. You crack your neck, sighing. 

You give yourself a total of five minutes to relax before you’re up again. You head up into your room, located in one of the structures built into the tree. 

When you go in, you find your cupboard doors open. You feel no fear, no worry- no one could ever find this place; and besides, if they did, why would they go for your clothes? 

You rifle through the contents of your wardrobe for a moment, and, with a sinking heart, realise that your scarf is nowhere to be seen. You look again, upturning your clothes multiple times, before you give up, falling back onto your bed and pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Motherfuckin’ shit,” you mutter to yourself. 

Once you have recovered from the absolute horror of your missing scarf, you sit up again- and spot a note on your desk. It’s pinned down by an adorable little owl, carved out of wood you suspect may have come from the suspicious chunk newly missing from your desk. 

You stand and walk over, carefully moving the owl and picking up the note. It takes a moment for you to decipher the monstrously bad handwriting, but when you do, you snort to yourself. 

I BORROWED your scarf 

Will return it soon, promise - 

♡

You shake your head at the note, chuckling incredulously. You could recognise that handwriting anywhere; as if the owl weren’t enough of an indication of who had stolen your scarf. You carefully lift the note and pin it to your wall, amongst a growing collection of similar notes. All signed with the same little heart. You put the owl in a miniature treasure chest, among an assortment of other wooden animals. (If he continues carving chunks out of your desk, you will soon have nothing left). 

You will borrow a scarf from a friend, you tell yourself, still smiling fondly. 

Once you have acquired a replacement scarf (from another Firelight, called Jem), you head out again, ready to carry on with your tasks. It takes a little longer than expected, but when you make it home, exhausted and soggy, your heart lifts. The tree, as always, is lit with golden lights. You can hear children laughing; Scar must be doing his weekly story time. You smile to yourself, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck- you must return it to Jem tomorrow, once you have reacquired your own. 

You make your way up to your room, shivering slightly in your wet clothes. Once the door is locked behind you, you make quick work of getting your clothes off (you discard them in a corner and swear to yourself that you will hang them out to dry later, which you won’t) and changing into something more casual and comfortable. Once you are done, you head outside again, wrapped now in a long black dressing gown coat thing that another Firelight half sewed, half knitted for you using scraps. It is fully dark, the area lit only by the soft gold and green lights scattered around the tree. Almost everyone is inside, in the warm. You are quick to join them, signing contently once you are back in the warmth. You spot Scar, now done with story time, and jog over to him, nudging him in the shoulder. 

“Hey,” you say softly, so as not to startle his daughter, who is snoozing in his lap, “have you seen Ekko?” “Our glorious leader?” Scar shakes his head. “No, I haven’t- but Annie said he was up in his room.” 

You nod and pat Scar on the back, smiling at him. “Thanks,” you murmur. He nods back, also smiling. You and Ekko think you’re so slick, keeping your relationship a secret, but the bounce in your step as you practically sprint towards Ekko’s room says everything he needs to know. 

At first, you plan on not knocking- just barge into his room, tackle him to the ground, steal the scarf back in a sneak attack.  However, as you get closer to the door, and as your heart warms, you decide to go with the peaceful approach. You knock and step back, putting on an official demeanor for anyone who might be passing. You are keeping this relationship a secret, after all. 

The door swings open, and you are greeted with the most beautiful boy of all time, wearing an extremely comfortable looking scarf. Your scarf; you’ll be damned if you don’t get that thing back. 

He steps aside, a silent invitation into his room. You smile at him cheekily as you pass, wrapping your fingers around the scarf. The door clicks shut behind you as you tug him over to you. “That,” you say, swerving out of the way as he tries to kiss you, “is my scarf.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers, grinning and winding his arms around your waist. 

You scoff at him, playfully wounded. As you are opening your mouth to protest, he leans in, managing to kiss you. As always, it is soft; as always, it makes your legs turn to jelly and your stomach do strange little somersaults. You kiss him back, pulling him closer by the scarf still wound around his neck. 

“I want it back,” you whisper, and he laughs (the arrogant bastard), pulling you into a hug. You nuzzle into the soft fabric of the scarf, secretly wishing for his skin instead- you have found that the crook of his neck is a rather delightful place for you to kiss. 

“You smell like a wet dog,” he mumbles into your forehead, following the harsh words with a kiss. 

“Fuck you,” is your eloquent response. “Right now?” You can practically feel his smirk, so cocky, as he peppers kisses over your face. As he does so, you lean into him, carefully unwinding the scarf from around his neck. It’s a slow process (although your partner’s kisses make it bearable) but you finally manage to remove it completely. You hold it triumphantly over your head, aha!ing victoriously. He looks at you, somewhat incredulous, although he is grinning. You are quick to follow, wrapping your arms around his neck again. 

“Thief,” he whispers into your ear. 

“Is it stealing if it’s already mine?” You quip in response, laughing with him. He kisses right below your ear, and you almost melt into him. 

“Also,” you manage to say, although your voice is slightly shaky as he continues to kiss your neck, “you need to stop cutting chunks out of my desk. I need somewhere to write, you know.” 

“You can use mine,” he murmurs. His hands fall to your waist. “I’ll give you a key, come in anytime you want. Don’t even have to knock.” “Ekko,” you say, because you don’t have the words to tell him quite how much this means to you. You can’t really tell if this is his way of inviting you officially into his life, but if it is, God knows you accept. 

“I mean it,” he says. He’s stopped kissing you now, has pulled back to look at you properly. The way he is looking at you- it is somewhat similar to how he looks at the tree, full of love and maybe a little bit of pride. You make a note to tease him about it later. 

“They’ll all know,” are your words. 

“They already do,” he responds with a cheeky smile. You know he’s right. 

“Okay,” you say, softly, your smile widening. “Yeah, okay, I’ll take your key.” 

“Ah-“ his grin widens to, and he steps away from you completely. “There is one condition.”

You quirk an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh yeah? What’s that, owl boy?” 

He snorts at the nickname, mimicking your stance. “I get to keep the scarf.” 

Oh, the sly bastard. You should have known that he had some ulterior motive, some secret plan. 

“I should’ve known,” you whisper, placing the scarf over your heart. “I should’ve known you were going to stab me in the back.” 

He laughs at you- downright laughs, as if this isn’t the most earth-shattering thing ever. (You are holding in your own laugh, but he doesn’t need to know that). 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you cry. “Don’t- you dare-“ 

He is still laughing as he steps forwards, wrapping his arms around you once again and pulling you flush against him. You start to laugh, and you put your arms around his neck, tossing your head back. He snatches the scarf from your hands and wraps it around his neck, leaving a long extra part, which he then puts around your neck. Had you not been completely focused on how beautiful he looks, and how happy you are, you would have worried about the possible health hazards of this. He kisses you, drawing you in, pushing you softly towards the bed. You kiss back, cupping his face in your hands, your breath catching in your throat. He turns then, sitting down on the bed. You make quick work of unwinding the scarf again, tossing it to the side as you join him on the bed. You giggle as you both tumble down, so you are lying on top of him, your hair all in his face. You pepper his face with kisses, like he did to you, and he is grinning so widely it makes your chest hurt a little. And then you’re kissing again, his mouth on yours, his hands on your back, pulling you always closer. 

At some point, this stops, and you find yourself lying facing him in the small bed, pressed close to each other. Your forehead is against his, and you are just looking- looking in a way that you were unable to before you two became a thing. Staring without shame, taking in every detail of his face. The traces of white paint still on his face, the way his eyes are half shut as he looks at you with the same attention. His arm is flopped lazily around your waist, toying lightly with the fabric of your shirt. 

“You can keep the scarf,” you whisper to him, and he smiles in a way that makes you immediately bridge the tiny gap between you two and press your mouth to his once again. 

You stay like that for a while, lying so close to each other you may as well be one, whispering to each other and kissing. You feel like a teenager- or at least, what you imagine a Piltie teenager might feel like, with their first ever school crush- with the butterflies in your stomach and the erratic beating of your heart. At some point, he puts his fingers over your pulse and holds them there, breathing in time with your heartbeat. You drift off then, slipping in and out of sleep for the next few hours. 

When you wake, it’s still night. You nudge Ekko, and he groggily opens his eyes, immediately on alert. You smile at him, reassuringly tracing his cheekbone. 

“I should go,” you whisper, although you really really don’t want to. 

He shakes his head at you. “No,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep. 

“Yes,” you murmur. “The walk of shame is my favourite part of being with you,” you add playfully. 

“Stay,” he whispers. His eyes are closing, and you know there’s no arguing. 

You wait, count sixty seconds in your head, before you kiss his forehead, smiling to yourself. “Alright,” you murmur to yourself more than to him, “I’ll stay.” 

[jules-ln]

Didn't know if I should make a post about this because there are people already talking about it but what the hell lmao

Personally; I'm something of an Ace myself (I'm Aegosexual AND Pansexual because I can do whatever I want) so let me tell you, what Christian Linke is doing isn't right

I'm going to stop spinning Viktor in my head like a Rubik's cube for a moment because what in the JK Rowling levels of bullshit is whatever Christian Linke is saying

I'm not so much mad because he's trying to get people to stop shipping JayVik, I'm mad because he's throwing Asexual people under the bus to justify his shit

If Christian Linke wanted to talk about Asexual representation, the right time to do it was when the show was being written so it could be incorporated into Viktor's characterization, you know, maybe not make it a central part of it, but at least acknowledge it in the show. Heck, even a joke would've been good

But that didn't happen, you know why? Because it's something Christian Linke made up during a random interview to get people to stop interpreting Viktor and Jayce as Queer, and that isn't representation, it's just bullshit

And as other people have pointed out, being Asexual doesn't make Viktor any less queer, more than that; I think it's harmful to act as if being Ace negates any queerness Viktor might have when there are still Acephobic people today that don't accept Ace people as part of the queer community

Lastly, I swear this guy meant Aromantic and just mixed up being Aro with being Ace, because he hasn't fucking talked to anyone who identifies as either Aro or Ace ever in his life

But considering that Viktor line in the game that said "Neither friendship nor love will stop what's necessary Jayce" I think Riot knows what they're doing and they're willing the bait the hell out of all the queers to get more money. I just wish someone at Riot would tell Christian Linke to shut it already

Anyway the author is dead let's find meaning on our own without listening to the voice of "God"

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

A/N: Links are being a pain at the moment. Will fix when they work again! 🫶

We Break

Three days until they were hitting the road again. The shenanigans had begun again. Currently Quinn had all the guys singing karaoke with her while he cooked in the kitchen. He couldn't help but smile at the sound of her and Folio belting out "Call Me Maybe." These were some of his favorite memories. Everyone being silly. More so her and Folio, actually. Sometimes he swore the two of them were meant to be siblings. They both matched each other's energy, always. When one got going the other was never far behind. He was a little jealous of their bond sometimes. Quinn was his best friend. Not his.

Footsteps running toward the kitchen drew his attention and he turned around just in time to see Quinn launch herself onto the island, still singing. Heart in his stomach he watched her dance and sing, ready to catch her if she fell. Always putting herself in precarious positions like this. Always scaring the shit out of him. It was like she was bound and determined to give him a heart attack. Folio joined her and he cursed. The one time he needed him to just not, and he did.

Anxious, he waited for the song to end, though he couldn't help but laugh at the two of them. A whole performance just for them. As much as she scared the shit out of him, he loved her for it. At least it was never dull.

"Alright. Song's over. Get down before you break your fucking neck." He shook his head, offering a hand out to her.

Quinn pouted down at him and those pesky butterflies started flitting around in his stomach. Goddamn it, he loved and hated when she pouted. It was adorable as hell, but he also couldn't resist when she did it.

"Come on. I'm not gonna fall."

"Don't look at me like that." He swallowed, fighting the urge to give in to her.

"Noah," she pleaded. "One more song? Then I'll get down?"

"This is exactly why I call you a terror pixie." He sighed. "Please, Quinn?"

With a roll of her eyes she moved like she was going to hop down, only to sit down right on the edge, directly in front of him and grin that big, shit eating grin of hers. Touchè. The little shit got one up on him.

"How about this? Will you stop being a kill joy now?"

His jaw clenched in frustration as he placed his hands on either side of her, bracing himself. Sometimes he wanted to wipe that smug little grin right off her face. Right now was one of those times. Ever so slowly he leaned in until their noses were practically touching. Watched as she swallowed, eyes widening slightly. Good.

"Why must you test my patience? Hmmm?" His voice was barely loud enough for her to hear.

"And that's my cue to leave the area." Folio hopped off the island, hurrying back to the living room.

"Noah-"

"Nope. You see, Quinn, you seem to have a death wish. And I happen to like you very much alive. So, please, for the love of God, stop trying to break your fucking neck."

Quinn nodded her head quickly, her cheeks turning slightly pink. And as much as he knew he shouldn't. As much as he knew it was a bad idea, he still tipped his head to the side, closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers. He kept it brief as to not draw attention, just long enough to feel her soft lips on his before he pulled back and walked back to the stove.

That was a terrible, horrible idea. Now all he wanted was to say screw the dinner he was now pulling out of the oven and take her upstairs so he could hear her pretty little moans again. Definitely not the best idea. Not with how he had handled it the last time. If he had just listened to her things wouldn't have been so awkward the majority of him being home.

Three days until he left for tour again. Just three days of somewhat normalcy. And with only three days left he was starting to break.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @supersquirrel1996 @mrscevans

[oh-my-wolfstar]

@wolfstarmicrofic

Dec. 1, prompt: party

word count: 369

tw: swearing

Remus Lupin was starting to hate parties. Not because he didn't enjoy them, which he did, but because if he saw one more giggling girl try to hit on his boyfriend he thought he might scream. They hadn't told anyone aside from their close friends about their relationship, as Sirius had been recently disowned and he was understandably wary of adding more scandal to his life. Even though Remus was fine with everyone knowing, he didn't mind; he understood his boyfriend's desire for privacy. No, he was more angry about the girls who were relentlessly hitting on Sirius despite the fact that he was clearly not interested. annoyed with watching from afar, Remus made his way over to Sirius. 

"No, I'm sorry." Sirius was saying, presumably in response to the blond ravenclaw girl he was talking to asking him out. (The sixth one that night, Remus was counting)

"Please?" She batted her eyelashes obscenely

"No, I'm not interested." Sirius snapped, the previously concealed frustration in his voice now evident.

"but why not? You're not seeing anyone," she whined. Sirius opened his mouth to respond but she apparently wasn't done, "I know you're single, but you don't have to be." Remus was about to step in when Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to face the party.

"for fucks sake, ALL RIGHT, LISTEN UP."  Sirius shouted. "please stop asking me out, I'm taken." Sirius laced his hand with Remus's and held them up. The room fell silent for a second, the James wolf whistled and Lily began to clap. Slowly, the rest of the party joined in and the party resumed. Later, when the party had ended, Remus pulled Sirius aside. 

"Are you ok?" he asked Sirius. Sirius blinked at him.

"Of course, why?"

"I just wanted to make sure that girl didn't make you feel like you had to come out. Or me, god if I did anything to make you feel-" Sirius cut him off

"It wasn't her, or you mooney, I swear. I told people because I wanted to. I have for a while, she just gave me a good reason to shout about my amazing boyfriend." Sirius grinned. Remus just smiled and then kissed his boyfriend.

[rjalker]

We as a society will never get past bigotry if marginalized people insist upon taking every criticism of their bigotry as an attack on their identity.

No, it is not transmisogynistic to call out intersexism because the bigot happens to be a trans woman.

No, it is not ableist to call out racism because the bigot happens to be autistic.

No, it is not misogynistic to call out ableism because the bigot happens to be a woman.

No, it is not [insert bigotry] to call out bigotry just because the bigot happens to be [insert identity].

And if you act like it is you're literally just announcing to everyone that you've been waiting for your chance to be a bigot without consequences.

Being Queer does not give you the right to be a bigot. Being disabled does not give you the right to be a bigot. Being literally any oppressed identity does not give you the right to be a bigot.

You literally do not get to pretend that being a bigot is an inherent part of being a minority.

You do not get to pretend that anyone who criticizes the bigotry of someone who happens to be a minority is the one who's really being a bigot.

You literally do not have the right to harass other minorities and then play the victim when you get called out for it. Learn what the fucking paradox of intolerance is and then get some basic morals.

[lazylittledragon]

i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD

[ibeewashere]

I genuinely cannot describe how deeply DEVASTATED I am about riz being the only one who can take stress tokens for the others. Yes fig is a protector and will fight endlessly for her friends and I love that about her but there is something about the way riz loves his friends. It’s a more subtle kind of love, but just as relentless and passionate and he will take any burden for the people he cares about and bear the weight of it on his shoulders so they don’t have to deal with it without any hesitation. I am ILL.

[bedforddanes75]

do you have any fanfiction recs??

I DO!!!!!! im honoured that someone's thought of Me to ask for recs omg... anyway theyll be under the cut because making long posts without a cut makes me feel mean

okay im assuming u mean gatty cos. its Me so sorry if u didnt 😞 smut is marked with * btw!!! (also before i start i'm sorry to everyone i tag i Hate tagging it's really scary.) SO. in no specific order. let's go

love me to death* by...somebody who i do not know the tumblr of (sorry) is amazing. i'd also recommend everything else by this person, too, because all of it is beautiful.

all the king's horses by the wonderful @allylikethecat is one of my all time faves, it just makes me want to scream and cry and yell and jump up and down. in a very, very good way!! (also, it has horses, so.)

the big light by @betweenthings2 is for real godsent, and i would die to be able to write like this!!!!! (but if u do then tw for speak of s/a!! keep urself safe!) it's beautiful and sad and sad and sad and wonderful. again, i'd recommend everything else by them, too!!! (also loads of crisps because it got updated like three seconds ago, and i Love It)

in the search for it, inside of you* by @arainesque is so beautifully sad, and the best thing ever. it's so soft and wonderful and lovely and aaaaaahhh!!! the way she wrote their dynamic makes my heart ACHE. obsessed always :(((((<3

how little i really know (about the things that matter)* OH MY GOD. farm boy george. literally almost entirely what inspired deus like it's AMAZING. beautiful and i love it so much

roadkill, again, by @betweenthings2 because she's genuinely amazing and deserves nine hundred thousand billion kudos on every single fic <3 (tw for restrictive (i think) EDs btw!!) i think if i read this while not in a good mood i would explode and die. it's amazing

into my spiral patterns you (my love) by @lookedlikethebins which is in progress rn is HWHSKJSJSJ. beautiful. obsessed with how they've written george in this one <3

okay im Very sorry to everyone who i tagged here i genuinely hate tagging people so much it makes me SICK but i kinda felt bad speaking about fics and Not tagging people. LORD. someone give me a tumblr etiquette class

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[triglycercule]

What do you think the types of drunk would the murder trio be? Im pretty sure ask dusttale already answered this question about dust but i have to ask the mtt expert

see now askdusttale DID answer the question. but they didn't ANSWER the question when asked what dust is like drunk. they just said that dust is the type to drink himself blackout drunk. so that mean i have total freedom on deciding what the mtt are like drunk hehehe (rubs hands together in a villanous way that you would imagine nightmare doing or something idk)

i already have an absolutely hilarious idea for horror and it might just because i'm on the guilt section of his character analysis but i could TOTALLY imagine him being an emotional drunk. like he CRIES. horror sans man known for being incredibly guarded and private with what he feels bawling his eye out. he gets mad he gets sad he does not get happy because horror doesn't have the right to be happy. he is too upset over the fact that he fucking DOOMED all of horrortale because of his selfishness and nothing can stop him from being incredibly vocal about that fact so much so that killer had to tape his mouth shut because he wouldn't stop crying so loud. and then he just silently cries until he passes out from exhaustion. the alcohol has an incredibly strong effect on him because i dont think he would drink regularly plus he definitely hasnt drinken anything in those 7 years of starvation. it hits like a fucking plane crashing into him. or like getting his eye taken out again. either one!

another funny idea i had for killer would be like the alcohol affecting him but he SWEARS that he's still sober. he is very confused when he starts stumbling because wtf he doesnt FEEL drunk??? why is he bumping into walls and tables HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND FUCKING STUPID???? the alcohol is definitely effecting him but he swears he swears he doesn't feel drunk. hes not drunk its just the damn body doing this stupid bullshit!!!! he's still very aware of what's going on and is basically the same as sober but just like. he's wiggly he's wobbly and oh shit he just fell head face first into a tv whoops. he'd also have a high tolerance because just because. he can drink without feeling like shit until he just blacks out mid conversation with someone because his body couldn't take the toll of all the beer or whatever. hilarious idea triglycercule thank you triglycercule i know

dust in the context that we already know that he drinks AND he can fight against the human while like partially drunk.... i feel it would be kinda like a giggly drunk situation. except dust doesn't laugh at anything that's funny he only laughs when someone gets hurt or something. SADISTIC giggly drunk. because i can already imagine a half drunk dust laughing his ass off after killing the human and its a beautiful sight to me.

anyways imagine how it goes when you pair this sadistic giggly drunk with another that wont stop going through the 5 stages of grief and another that keeps on fucking falling over for no reason in his eyes. dream blunt rotation but the blunt is a bottle of vodka. i can already imagine it in my head and its fucking HILARIOUS. horror going on about how he caused the deaths of others and manipulated and tricked papyrus while killer is just trying his best to keep his eyes open because for some reason they won't stop trying to close. he is surprisingly getting frustated. dust has long since lost his voice laughing at this and he's just silent wheezing at everything. also phantom papyrus is only making the laughter worse because he keeps on making rude comments towards horror and killer and only he can hear him and its guffaw inducing. mtt amazing friend group you dont get shit like this anywhere else

[rabbiteclair]

a while back my mom discovered that the owner of the company was stealing basically all of the money that he was supposed to submit for things like 'taxes' and 'health insurance' and 'court-mandated payments' for the employees, listing them on the pay stubs but then pocketing the money to help keep the company afloat

she then made sure that everybody in the company knew, submitted her resignation effective immediately, and spent about the next week calling government offices to report every crime, regulatory violation, and breach of employment contract that she could think of. and now it looks like the series of investigations that she kicked off might be the thing that finally destroys this man's company.

sometimes I'm proud of her

[memento-morri-writes]

This is far from my best work, but it's 1:30am, and I needed to get this down before I slept or lost my mind. So here, take a snippet of Rook seeing Zara again for the first time in 3 years.

Trying, and failing, to keep his voice from shaking, [Rook] said “Hello, Captain.” Mouth still open in surprise, [Zara] replied “Well, hello yourself.” The reality of what she was seeing seemed to hit her as she rounded the desk. “Rook, is that really you?” He nodded. “It’s me.” Zara ran towards him, stopping just short of touching him, and said “What did she do to you?” Rook’s heart stuttered and he had to brush his fingers together to confirm Sigmar’s ring was still in place. Could she possibly see through its illusion? But then he remembered what Lanny had said. She knew where you were. His throat clenched and he choked out “Two years.” A wave of grief swept across Zara’s face as she said “I’m so, so sorry.” Rook shook his head vigorously. “It’s not your fault.” Zara ignored him. “It is my fault. I failed you. As your captain, it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, and I failed you.” Rook wanted to say something, to reassure her, but she pushed on. “She sent me letters, told me all the terrible things she was doing to you. I… I let you down.” Those words hit Rook with the force of a dozen cannonballs. Lanny had said that Zara knew Wolf had him, but knowing that Zara had been aware of what Wolf was doing to him… somehow that was more painful than any wound Wolf had ever inflicted. He barely managed to force his next words out around the lump in his throat. “Where were you?” And why didn’t you come? “She said she’d kill you if I came to get you. Or if I hired anyone to get you. You’re standing here because I stopped sailing.” 

(honorary one-time tag for @space-writes bc I remember you enjoyed my other bits about Rook and Zara.)

[knowlesian]

gonna snap one day and run through the halls of media critique screaming A PLOTHOLE IS NOT WHEN THERE IS AN EASILY EXTRAPOLATED AND OBVIOUS ANSWER TO A QUESTION THAT THE WRITERS DID NOT THINK EVEN NEEDED TO BE EXPLAINED OUT LOUD BECAUSE THEY EXPECTED YOU TO USE YOUR BRAIN JUST A L I T T L E

[kuromibatwings]

serial character thief is coming to tumblr because of "haters"

if you see this character named ""strawberry"" report the account and let me know, they're a ripoff of my main fursona crush

he's currently on the site as @darlinqq-senpaii but that's subject to change, he's probably going to make a brand new account to hide again

further information, including a beware from someone else who had their characters stolen: https://toyhou.se/~forums/5867.service-reviews/511300.puppyybotheft-lgbtqphobic-abelist-racist-more?page=1

https://toyhou.se/~bulletins/1739199.beware-traumabunnie-kuromiibatwings

i don't like posting about him because it fuels his serial victim mentality, but i refuse to let this weirdo continue using my old handles and ripping off my characters while pretending he's the one being persecuted.

[possibly-eli]

once again posting a reminder (very gently, when you consider how fucking frustrated i am) that i am anti-kff! there are otherkin terms that people can use and, instead of educating themselves on this, they actively CHOOSE to belittle and bully otherkin folks, all while being a teensy tiny little bit ableist in how they go about it. its not a "erm these people are just minding their business and they're ALSO kin anyway" NO they are NOT. they are, by very fucking definition, either 'hearted or 'link (IF their connection is genuine ANYWAYS). that is NOT. KIN. and its kinda fucking telling if you think a community whose entire existence hinges on deliberate ignorance and harassment of a group is equal to the group theyre harassing and bastardising the terms and experiences of