#is uh. fuckin nonexistent

[solarpunkani]

Laying in bed wishing I was in a field full of milkweed collecting seeds

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut for @this-was-a-terrible-idea; they gave me dealer's choice, so I picked "matchbox pockets". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

IV. Out. He doesn't actually know what's in the IV, so–out. 

He screws his eyes shut tighter and wraps his TTK around the needle; tries to grip it clumsily but carefully, and just . . . just . . . just it's small and delicate and his head feels all foggy and he–and he can't quite–

He wants it out. He needs the wires off and the tubes and needle out and god god god where is he and how'd he get here and why is he here and– 

He can't breathe. Can't concentrate. Can't fucking think. He–he needs to just think, he can't use his TTK if he can't think, he just–he just–

Something touches his face and he flinches and fucking hates himself for flinching even as his eyes snap open and flick around urgently and–and he doesn't know what–he doesn't see what–

Something makes a soft little sound, almost questioning and almost like a purr, and Superboy's eyes catch on something very small, crouched down low in the corner of his peripheral vision. It moves, just a little, and touches him. It's . . . 

“Uh?” is about the best Superboy can manage, and it comes out groggy and dazed, and the small little something straightens up just enough for him to actually see it, and it's . . . a Pocket. He blinks, slow and confused, and . . . it's a Pocket, yeah. 

It's a Pocket of–him, though? Except, like–it’s naked, not wearing his costume or even anything at all, and its coloring looks all pale and washed out and kind of like–he knows he's basically kinda just a shitty xerox of Superman, but he didn't think–that's not what he pictures when he pictures himself. 

. . . is it? 

But there's also–there's nobody else in the room, so whose Pocket even . . . ? 

The Pocket churrs very, very quietly and pats a hand high against his cheekbone. It looks worried and anxious and–and he doesn't . . . 

Is he actually seriously, genuinely pathetic and shallow and hard enough to put up with that he's his own damn soulmate? Is that actually even a thing that’s possible, as a thing? 

. . . . . . he's not, right? He's . . . he's not actually that bad, is . . . 

Oh, he realizes as his vision clears a little more, and he sees the weird tiny little tattoo over the Pocket's heart and realizes their coloring isn't just washed out, it's nonexistent. Like, borderline albino levels of it. Maybe even actual albino levels, though it's hard to tell and the Pocket doesn't have irises to go by, so . . . 

But this isn't actually him, either way. 

“Uh,” Superboy manages again, and swallows roughly. Nobody else is here, still, so . . . so whoever this is . . . “You–mine, little dude?” 

The Pocket churrs again and presses up against the side of his face and kinda–hugs him, kinda, and Superboy feels a weird tight twisting feeling in his gut about it and bites the inside of his cheek. So like . . . that's a yes, right? The little guy’s his? So . . . he has a soulmate, then. Right? Who's apparently another Superman attempt, which is . . . well, he would've figured he'd get a romantic soulmate if he got one, but it . . . kinda makes sense. Kinda. ‘Cuz like, he guesses them both being Superman clones would make them kinda . . . kinda like . . . family, right? 

But he's never even met the guy, whoever he is, so how can he already have a Pocket of him? Like–that's not normal, right? Not for normal soulmate bonds, anyway. Pockets only show up early, like, once in a fuckin’ blue moon. 

. . . maybe he's just gonna meet him really soon. Like–today levels of “soon”, probably. So . . . so he's definitely in a lab right now, yeah, and he doesn't know if it's Cadmus or S.T.A.R. or someplace else entirely, but . . . 

But he's got a soulmate, apparently. Which means he's apparently also, like . . . also got a soul, and all. Because he wouldn't have a soulmate if he didn't, right? Like–that wouldn't be a thing. 

So that's . . . definitely something he's tried not to worry about before.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Discipline

Series masterlist

Part four

Summary: Jake is sent to teach you discipline within the rules of the Omaticaya, from which you are constantly rebelling. Except...he finds unorthodox methods that get you to behave.

Warnings: SMUT!!! Jake is fucking mean, babes, and you know it. A little bit of dacryphilia. Rough sex. Daddy kink bc why not. Face fucking. Jake calls you a bitch, a whore, a slut, etc.etc.etc. Uh, yeah pretty much just treating you like a toy for him to use.

It's been a long night for Jake.

There's a celebration going on in the clan right now, and it's been going on for hours. But to him, it feels like it's been years. Mostly because a) he had planned to take you training tonight and, logically, was looking forward to fucking you stupid again; and b) he'd been watching you all this time and you were with some guy.

No, scratch that, you were flirting with some guy. Your big, dumb doe eyes looking up at the stranger through your thick eyelashes, your plump lips pulled into a coquettish, delicate smile.

Fuck, Jake wanted to grab you and just throw you to the ground and fuck your throat while your eyes stared up at him. He wanted to spank you for looking at someone else like that. He wanted to fuck you so hard until you remembered who you belonged to.

Just the other night, he'd told you you were his. Were you fucking stupid? Fucking deaf? What was wrong with you? Why were you doing this?

The fucking stranger says something to you that makes you laugh. The sound is a soft tinkle to Jake's ears, and it makes his cock unbearably hard.

Jake's pissed at you, nails digging into his palms every time you place a hand on the stranger's arm.

There's a split second where Jake believes that maybe you're...you're actually into this guy. Maybe you like that guy in ways you don't like him. Maybe...maybe he's just losing to this other man. Maybe you just don't want Jake.

He's almost convinced himself of this horrible idea when your eyes suddenly fall to him. Your gaze meets his and it's something in your irises, something that flashes across your face, that lets him know you're doing this on purpose.

Just as quick as your eyes were on him, they're returning to the guy in front of you, laughing over something that he's said.

Jake can feel his anger bubbling within him, sharp and mean, slowly turning into lust.

The stranger leans in towards you, grazing your ear with his mouth, a smug smile drawn on his lips as he whispers something to you. You giggle, obviously pleased, and laugh along.

The man stands, tells you something and walks away, promising to come back.

Jake's not sure how long the man will be gone, so he wastes no time.

He stands from the place he's sitting in and makes his way towards you, tail swishing angrily, ears flat against his head. He reaches you and you glance up to him, those big angel eyes faking an innocence that Jake knows is nonexistent.

He grabs you by the wrist and tugs you up, forcing you to your feet before dragging you down the Hometree, to the thick jungle.

“Jake,” you complain, but offer little resistance as he leads you through the foliage. “Where are we going?”

He doesn't respond. He drags you deep into the forest, until he's sure you two are far enough for the others not to hear, and he pushes you to your knees on the ground.

He grabs your face in one of his hands, his fingers pinching your cheeks. “What're you? Fuckin' deaf?” he growls, leaning down so that his face is inches from yours. “Did you not fucking hear me when I said you were mine?”

You fold your ears back. “I heard you,” you respond, tilting your head up proudly.

“So, what? You just didn't fuckin' care?” he demands, raising an eyebrow. His eyes sharp and full of ire.

“What do you mean?” you ask, coy.

Enraged, Jake demands, “Open your fuckin' mouth, girl.”

You do as asked, eyes staring into his.

And Jake spits in your mouth.

And you mewl.

“Who's fuckin' mouth is this? Who gets to spit in it? Who fucks you?” He pulls you closer as you swallow his spit. “Who do you belong to, whore?”

With your temper a little more tamed, Jake stands up straight and roughly pulls his loincloth off. He stands in front of you, bare, his cock long and hard. The sight makes you salivate.

“You,” you reply, ears folding back in submission. “I belong to you.”

“That's right, you dirty slut,” Jake says, grabbing his cock by the base and slapping his cock against your face. “You fuckin' whore, flirting with some other guy right in front of me. Is it 'cause you wanted this?” he questions. “Hmm? Did you just want me to get angry? Did you just want my attention, slut?” He tsks. “You should have just said so. Now you've got me all angry, and you know what happens when I get angry? I'll use you to get off, and then I'll leave you here crying for my cock.”

“No,” you gasp. “No, please, fuck me.”

Jake chuckles darkly. “No,” he replies. “Just suck my cock, that's all you're getting.”

You whine, “If I'm good, will you fuck me?”

He raises an eyebrow. “If you behave, I might go easy on your throat.”

You open your mouth, big eyes focused on him, and he shoves his cock between your lips. The thick head finds your throat quick enough, and Jake is already thrusting into you as you gag around his dick, struggling to breathe.

Jake grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it as leverage to keep your head in place as he ruts into you. As tears begin forming on the corners of your eyes, Jake chuckles. “What's wrong? Can't handle the concequences of your actions?”

You whine, eyes fluttering shut at the abuse forced upon your throat.

“Then don't do shit you can't make up for, bitch,” he growls out, sharp canines digging into his lower lip as he stares down at you.

You put your hands on his large thighs, attempting to push your head back. Jake is harsh in the way he forces you to take his cock, his hand pushing you until your nose touches his lower abdomen. “Where're you runnin' to?” he mocks, sneering through the obvious pleasure he's getting from your helplessness.

“Jake, please,” you attempt to say, but the sound is muffled, gagged by his thick cock.

Jake grins from above you, an unscratchable sensation rising within him at the sight of you on your knees, so tremendously helpless. Sobbing already, tears on your eyes and down your cheeks, spit dripping on your chin, lips growing swollen. “Fuckin' pathetic,” he groans, throwing his head back as you mewl on his length.

You're choking on his cock, breathing ragged and rough, your throat aching as well as your jaw from the effort. And you love it, you love how cruel he is. You love how he degrades and uses you. Fuck, it makes you wet. You can feel yourself dripping down your thighs and to the soft grass beneath.

Amidst his thick arousal, Jake can smell your slick. Your scent is heavy, and it glazes over his mind, making him feral and ravenous, aching to make you cry and sob and beg. He wants to leave you bruised and aching, wants to see you struggle to walk in the morning, wants to cover you in hickeys and see them glow under the sun's rays. He wants everyone to see you and wonder who left you in such a state, and he wishes everyone could know it was him.

Especially that jerk you were flirting with earlier. Jake would love to see his expression when he sees what Jake's body does to yours.

The idea of parading you around, covered in his marks, for everyone to witness, makes him harder. He fucks your face, relishing in the way his underside drags against your soft tongue. He can feel your spit coat over his balls, his skin hot from the heavy ecstasy your delicate mouth brings.

“Fuck, girl,” he groans. “Y'should misbehave more often. I like fuckin' this little mouth.”

You look up at him, eyes bright from crying, eyelashes wet with tears, the tip of your nose red, lips swollen. The sight sends Jake into a frizzy, making him come down your throat in heavy spurts of sticky load. Hot and thick, it trickles down your throat and a few drops slither out from between your lips, sliding down your chin.

Jake is huffing softly, the strength of his orgasm making him weak, and he pulls his softening cock out of your aching mouth.

Jake's hand cups your face and he runs his thumb over your lower lip crudely, watching the way his cum decorates the puffy skin there.

“It's good to know this pretty mouth does more than just talk back,” he hums, grinning.

You allow yourself to lean into his touch. “Jake, please! Please, fuck me!” you whine, big eyes staring up at him. “Please!Need you s'bad!”

Jake pulls away from you. “No,” he replies simply. “I told you what your punishment was. Now bear it.”

“Please!” you insist, leaning closer to him, placing your lips on his thigh, softly kissing your way up, licking over his balls, up the underside of his cock. “Please! I'll be good! So good! Please!”

“No.”

“Please!” you whine, tears of frustration falling from your eyes. “Please! I'll never misbehave again! I swear!”

Jake quirks an eyebrow, intrigued by your desperation. “What're you willing to do on the condition that I fuck you?”

“Anything!” you promise. “Anything as long as you fuck me, sir! Please.”

“I'll make ya a deal, then,” he offers, reaching over his shoulder for his braid. “Swear yourself to me, tie yourself to me in body, and I'll fuck you.”

Your eyes widen slightly. You know what that means, know what that would entail...making tsaheylu with Toruk Macto...becoming truly his...

“Tsaheylu?” you question, voice slightly breathy.

“Tsaheylu,” he confirms. “So I can ensure you won't ever think of another man. You'll be mine, girl. My slut, my whore, my toy to use whenever I damn well please.”

You stare at him for a second before nodding and reaching back for your braid. “Okay,” you respond.

Something swirls within Jake, excited and eager, and he lowers himself to the ground in front of you, kneeling to mirror you.

He holds his queue up for you, the pink tendrils reaching out for you.

You hold your own braid up, eyes nervously glancing up at his.

And this—oh, what this does to him. The sight of your uncertainty, of your fear, of the way you look at him for reassurance...

His cock springs to attention, hard and already dripping precum, as he nears your tendrils with his own.

The moment tsaheylu is made, you purr, feeling Jake take over your body, feeling him as much as you can feel yourself. The arousal is so heavy, too much to bear. Your pupils widen, ears folding back, and your eyes flutter shut.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake groans as the sensation of your desperate desire, painful and incessant. “You poor thing,” he says mockingly, pulling you closer and leading you to lie on your back as he climbs on top of you. “Does it hurt, baby? Does it hurt that I'm not fucking you?”

You, still overwhelmed by the sensation, whine and shudder beneath Jake's large body. “Yes,” you mewl. “Hurts so bad, Daddy.”

Jake's ears perk in curiosity and lustful joy. “What'd you just say?”

You, lost to your arousal, merely repeat, “Hurts, Daddy. Hurts!”

Jake chuckles, a hand trailing down your body, removing your loincloth and running his fingers up your slit. “You want Daddy to help take the pain away, sweet?”

“Please, Daddy,” you reply, nodding eagerly. “Need y'so bad.”

In one thrust, Jake's cock fills you, your gummy walls tight around him, forcing a groan out of him and a moan out of you.

“Better, baby?” he questions through clenched teeth as he begins thrusting into you, his hips crashing against yours, your pleasure coursing through the bond and invading his senses.

“A-a little,” you respond, struggling to match the rolling of your hips to his. “Need more, Daddy. Please!”

Jake's lips fall on your neck, biting the skin there, marking you as his.

“I'll give you more, girl. I'll fuck you dumb, make you more of a whore for me than you already are.” He grunts softly as he pounds you, harsh and mean, each thrust harder than the last.

“There!” you whine when Jake's cock rubs against the spongy spot within you that has you jerking your legs. “There, Daddy!”

Jake grabs one of your legs and wraps it around his waist, allowing himself to fuck you deeper and at the angle you beg him for. His cock is bruising your cervix, forcing you to stretch so much that it's painful. But that pain blurs with the pleasure and they become the same sensation.

Your hands rise to Jake's arms, nails digging into the muscles there at the sudden burst of pleasure. “'s so good,” you whimper. “So good, Daddy.”

“I know it is, baby,” he responds through heavy grunts.

“I-I love it,” you mewl, back arching off the ground, pressing your breasts against his bare chest.

“It's my cock you're taking. Of course you love it.”

Jake's hips are bruising yours, his pace mean and unforgiving. “Come on my cock, girl,” he orders. “I know you're close. I can feel it.”

Indeed, your orgasm is right on the surface, a few thrusts away. “Yes, Daddy. I want to. I do! Fuck, make me come on your cock, Daddy! Please, let me!”

One of Jake's hands wanders to your clit, rubbing circles on it, coaxing your orgasm through your body and then making it crash over you, tearing you in half.

You cry out his name, occasionally allowing the word daddy to escape your lips. Jake drags out your orgasm, stretching it out for longer until his own orgasm reaches him and makes his body shake and tremble above yours.

“Goddamn,” he grunts, hips ceasing their movements, allowing his seed to spill in you, filling your cunt.

You gasp and moan at the sensation, reveling in the feeling of fullness, and Jake slowly pulls out of you.

As he removes his queue from yours, he asks, “Better now?”

You nod, eyes closing as exhaustion takes over you. “Mm, better,” you reply, voice quiet.

Jake chuckles softly as he lies down beside you. For a moment, he just stays there, tracing his fingers over your skin, watching every bruise and mark he left on you, admiring your body.

He admires the simple fact that you're his. Officially and truly his. His to have, his to use, his to fuck. You're his.

He considers staying for a while longer, just letting you sleep, but something inside him is afraid that you'll ever become more than a physical relief for his cock, and he sits up harshly.

“We have to get back,” he tells you curtly, picking your loincloth from where he dropped it and tossing it to you. “Get dressed b'fore anyone comes lookin' f'r us.”

You sit up, body sore in all the right places, but feeling a little cold by Jake's manner. Still, you say nothing as he stands and pulls his loincloth on. You dress yourself and are barely done when Jake is already making his way back to the village, apparently having forgotten you.

He doesn't even look back.

To you, it's because he doesn't care.

He knows it's because he does care. He just refuses to show it.

@who-is-ej @jake-sullys-whore @sweetllamaparadise @erenjaegerwifee @kamcrazy123

[doubledyke]

dissociatED ch. 2

the girls (edd and eddy) are no longer fighting

“Greetings! You’ve reached Eddward. Unfortunately, I’m unable to take your call at the moment. If you will, please leave a brief message with your name, and telephone number, and I’ll return your call as soon at my earliest convenience. Thank you!”

Eddy mocked the nasally voice under his breath after hanging up and tossing the phone onto the foot of his bed. It was bad enough that he would yet again be the one admitting defeat in another of their standoffs. Now he had to wait for a call back just to apologize? Restless with frustration, he hopped off his bed and paced around his bedroom as if to follow his train of thought.

He’s ignoring me. He’s gotta be! His phone’s literally attached to his hip with that tacky ass belt holster. He shuddered to think of the gauche accessory.

Maybe Ed’s sixth sense was wrong and he’d finally fucked it up for real this time. The only logical explanation was that Double Dee had reached his threshold for Eddy’s bullshit once and for all and would never forgive him. One dickish remark too many. And the last one was a doozy.

-

“So you’re not coming?” The breath hitched in Eddy’s throat released as a scoff.

“Eddy, if you'd-”

“Y'know, I only agreed to go cuz you looked like you were gonna fucking cry when I said I didn’t want to. Here I was, willing to embarrass myself for you and you’re gonna flake?” He scowled at the shiny plastic garment bag hanging from the frame of his closet.

Edd rolled his eyes at the guilt trip. He looked down at his notepad where ‘sorry’ was scrawled several times in a hodgepodge of print and cursive.

"Due to a… discrepancy in scheduling, I've had to make a few discommodious adjustments to a-accommodate an important - mandatory, in fact - meeting of the associated student body… Believe you me, if there was a way I could be there, I would.” Edd should have left his sputtering at that, but felt compelled to inject additional awkwardness. “Yessiree. Front row." His teeth scraped his lip while he hoped against hope that his lousy excuse would be accepted with minimal scrutiny.

"You lie like a cheap rug! If you cared so much, you'd find a way to be here."

Edd’s cheeks were burning. Though he considered himself to be fairly skilled in the art of prevarication, he should have known better than to think he’d get one over on Eddy “Spinner of Yarns” McGee.

"Y-You don't understand," he choked. Citing the enervating anxiety he felt about venturing back to Peach Creek sounded like even more of a cop out in his head than the nonexistent meeting. In all truth, the mere thought of taking in its familiar sights, sounds and smells for an entire day worsened his chronic shortness of breath. Not to mention the hours-long trip just to get there. Before he could find the words, a gruff voice interjected.

"Forget it, you're doin' me a favor. Just wish you'd told me before I rented the fuckin' robe." he bluffed, knowing full well his parents weren't going to let him skip commencement after they paid for his cap and gown. "And I don't get why you feel the need to lie. You know you suck at it.”

"Yes well," Edd cleared his throat before making another attempt to explain. "Your and Ed’s educational milestone is important to me, Eddy. Unfortunately, I have other obligations." His unintentionally stony tone prompted a softening of his next words. "I do hope you'll still attend. Earning a high school diploma is quite an achievement for you."

"For me? What the hell’s that s'posed to mean?!"

"I meant nothing by it! Though I'm sure you'd agree, things were a bit touch and go for a while there." Eddy remained silent during his friend's dramatic pause.

His trudge to the educational finish line had indeed been a struggle, which was why he was so hurt by Edd ditching. Their off and on tutoring sessions over the years were the only reason he maintained a solid 2.3 GPA. Apparently that all meant nothing now.

"I’m very proud of you, Eddy."

"Uh-huh. Not proud enough, apparently." The cantankerous little cad couldn't help it. If there was a snide remark to be made, his soul wouldn’t rest until he was the one to make it. "All that belly achin’ you do about your parents - now look at you! You’re acting just like ‘em."

Edd's wide eyes blinked incredulously at such an emotional sucker punch. They’d exchanged their fair share of injurious insults across years of tumultuous friendship, but their tacit agreement not to exploit certain vulnerabilities had never been breached. During even their worst tiffs, he wouldn’t have dreamed of such a low blow from someone who claimed to be his best friend.

Eddy's knee bounced furiously while he waited for a response to his odious words that hung like Ed’s B.O.. It was a shitty thing to say, sure, but what kind of jerk misses their buddy’s graduation? As far as he was concerned, he was the real victim here. So he doubled down.

“You can tell Ed too, cuz I’m not in the mood for the waterworks.”

Rustling was heard on the other line before the call disconnected.

-

Edd froze with his hand gripping the front door knob of his shared apartment. The deadbolt clicked with the turning key, then the door gave way to his weary shoulder. He was still adjusting to the culture shock of seeing how people lived when they didn’t have a pathological need for order. Living with strangers - living with anyone was taking Edd much longer to get used to than expected.

Indignation boiled his insides while he stood eyeing the open floor plan from the doormat. As he stepped inside, he kicked the folded corner of an area rug back, and picked up a couple of throw pillows from the middle of the floor. Loose filler paper spilled from the open pocket of a backpack tossed on the couch. He brought his hands up to his temples to serve as blinders to the squalor as he continued toward the hall.

Being the friendly folks they were, his roommates frequently reminded him that he was in fact allowed to come out of his room. Edd always politely declined, confounded by the concept of relaxing in a room that hadn’t been dusted in recent memory. At this point, it was clear that his colleagues were less than receptive to his sermons on the advantages of sanitization, organization and minimalism. Now he just did his best to ignore the unvacuumed floors, the sinkful of dishes and clutter collecting dust on every flat surface. It was just his luck to be housed with two people whose filth gave Ed a run for his money. A lineup of empty soda cans was swiped off the kitchen table by the messenger bag jutting from Edd’s hip as he zipped by. He startled at the noise, but stuck to his resolution to no longer clean up after capable adults.

The door of his austere refuge opened to cool, purified air, subtly scented with lavender from a reed diffuser. He entered just far enough to close the door and hang his bag and windbreaker from the hook on the back. The mattress protector and sheets crinkled as he plopped onto the twin bed and plucked his hat off for a vigorous massage of his tender scalp. As he folded over and tugged at his double knotted shoelaces, he glanced up and saw the phone he’d left on his desk all day.

He first realized it was missing during mid-morning breakfast with his ESL conversation partner. Mostly unbothered, since incoming phone calls were a rarity these days, it slipped his mind before he even finished his crepes. It wasn’t until early evening that he was reminded of its absence when his steel guitar tutee was ten, then twenty minutes late for their lesson. He attributed the absence to end-of-summer blues, but just in case, he tucked his shoes off to the side and grabbed the little nylon pouch. His heart sank when he flipped the screen up and saw that he’d missed six calls from one of the few numbers he had saved.

"Hello?"

"Eddy? I-I'm so sorry, I… I was in a rush as usual and forgot my cell phone at home this morning. Is everything okay?" While waiting for an answer, he’d been recounting a list of worst case scenarios and going over the most logical reaction for each.

"Aye, Sockhead! Long time no talk?" He cringed at the poor attempt at sounding more composed than he felt. "Uh, how are ya?"

"I’m returning your call. Well, calls.” Edd’s concern quickly gave way to snark once he caught his friend's signature cheeky tone. "How are you?"

"Can't complain. Well I could, but who wants to hear it, amirite?"

Several seconds passed before Edd responded to the hackneyed quip.

"Seems I'm not the only one with a tendency to mirror their parents."

For once, didn't take long for Edd to get to the point. Eddy deflated like a balloon. At least with the elephant acknowledged he could cut the crap.

"Look, I didn't mean what I said, okay?" His voice was a low mumble. "I was just frustrated with the whole… thing. If it's any constellation, my folks made me go anyway."

"Oh yes, I feel quite consoled, Eddy." The corners of his mouth tightened. "I do appreciate the effort it must have taken you to form something adjacent to an apology.”

"Right…" Eddy responded, then waited for the "but".

"After some reflection, however, I realized that there may have been some merit to your callous comment." Edd recrossed his legs and leaned back in his ergonomic office chair. "I told you I'd be there cheering you on when you advanced this next phase of life. And I wasn't.” His ears tingled with imminent lacrimation. “For that, I sincerely apologize."

Eddy was used to his friend's frequent blubbering by now, but his chest still tightened when Edd’s voice cracked. Luckily, befriending a crybaby was great practice for offering comfort in moments like these.

"Hey, c'mon. You're nothin' like those tight asses. Not with the, like, important stuff." He still wasn’t very good at it. “'Sides, I still had Ed! Oh man, you shoulda seen it! He tripped over his own dumb feet twice on his way up to the stage." A hearty laugh cut through the tension. “I hope someone was recording! Fuckin’ idiot.”

"Yes, he told me as much.” Edd sniffled and let out a weak laugh. “In fact, he gave me quite the rundown for most of your past academic year. Including the so-called senior prank you hoped to pull." A sneaking smile accentuated his playful scorn.

"Me? A prank?" Eddy gasped and clutched his proverbial pearls. "It was a good one, huh?"

"Mmm, from what I could gather during his breathless retelling, you hoped to replace each student's photo in the yearbook with your own portrait?" Edd's smirk grew. "Sounds less like a prank and more a manifestation of unchecked narcissism."

"I thought it was funny. If that girlfriend of yours would’ve played along it would've been a scream." Eddy replied flatly. "I swear she used her piddly authority as head of the yearbook club to unfairly target me. What’d I ever do to her?” He gestured wildly alone in his room. “She wouldn't even approve my quote! Instead, she put some mealy-mouthed bullshit about the value of education. You need to get a handle on her.”

Edd momentarily ignored the bulk of the erroneous ravings and gave in to curiosity about what kind of trouble Eddy had been causing in his absence.

"Dare I ask just what vile excerpt you insisted be printed below your definitive school photo? The photo, mind you, that generations of our fellow alumni will undoubtedly come across?" Edd closed his eyes as innumerable offensive possibilities raced through his mind.

"It was gonna be that old Sinatra quote. Y’know, 'The best revenge is massive success.’ But oh no, little miss Steinem said it'd be a cold day in hell before a misogynist was commemorated in her precious book. Hell, I don't even care for the guy, but it's a good quote."

"That's it? Funny, I imagined something far more…blue. Although, she does have a point about the normalization of mid-century machismo. I'd think you of all people would be sympathetic to her cause."

Eddy paused to figure out what Edd meant.

"By the way, Nazz and I separated shortly before your class graduation. I was going to tell you when we last spoke but-"

"Woah, woah, woah, hang on! What’d she write ya a Dear John letter?"

A crackling laugh sent Edd recoiling from the phone’s speaker. Eddy made no effort to downplay his glee at the news he'd been waiting to hear for nearly a year.

"What happened, didja sprout a few chest hairs and scare her off?"

Edd held his matter-of-fact reply until the snickering ceased.

"The hardships of maintaining a long distance relationship proved too much to abide, I'm afraid. I think we had an inkling that our dalliance was doomed to dereliction, but it certainly was fun while it lasted."

"The fuck does that mean? You dumped her?"

"I like to think of it as mutual, Eddy. We came to realize that we were simply two ships passing in the night. Alas, separated by the briny tides of the vast ocean of inconstancy we call life."

"Yeah, she dumped ya. And now I see why, ew!"

"Oh, and I suppose women are just lining up to jump into that unmade bed of yours?" Edd snorted.

"Uh, duh! They’re linin’ the block just for the chance. Had to install a turnstile for chrissake!" He smiled when Edd's scoff morphed into a genuine laugh.

"Why, it’s a wonder you found the time to call me. I’m flattered.”

“Yeah well, even Lothario needs a breather from time to time.” Eddy flipped over on the bed to lay on his stomach. “What about you? How's the single life treatin' ya? You must be bumpin' uglies with a different chick every night, huh?"

Edd rolled his eyes at the notably accusatory tone and accompanying vulgar image.

"Please. If I didn't know any better, I’d think I had unwittingly signed a vow of celibacy along with the lease for my off-campus apartment." Edd stood from his chair and stretched with a drawn out groan, then took the three short steps back to his outgrown bed. "Not that I've had the time, nor energy for such extracurricular activities, given my shortsightedness in arranging my summer schedule."

Relief washed over Eddy.

"What, you mean to tell me you ain't goin' to the keggers at Alpha Beta Soup every weekend?" They both chuckled at the absurd idea.

"Tempting as it may be to attend a gathering of belligerent, red-faced bloviators, where the guest of honor is a barrel of Bud Light - I think I'll pass."

"You gotta make time for yourself or you'll go nuts, Dee. What've you been doing all break then?"

"Well, I just finished my final class of the summer… Oh, and I’ve started tutoring again.” Exhaustion stopped him from elaborating. “Now, I’m waffling.”

"About what?"

"Well, I'd really like to see you and Ed before classes commence in a few weeks. I'm just not sure…"

"Not sure?" Eddy's forehead scrunched. "I'm- er, Ed's practically dysfunctional without ya. More than usual, that is."

"Oh good lord, please tell me he's still employed?" Edd's subconscious foot shaking paused while awaiting an answer.

"Yeah, yeah he's still at the plant." Eddy heard a faint exclamation of relief from his friend. "Him and May are still mushy as ever, yadda yadda yadda. I can tell he's missin’ ya though."

"It's not that I don't want to see you! I'm just once again letting worry cloud my better judgment." Edd looked down at the throbbing, red thumb he'd been mindlessly picking at since before their call started. "I'm not even sure where I'd stay if I did come to visit."

There was a brief silence while Eddy's brain caught up to his friend's words. He'd been stuck on the irony of Edd worrying about Ed's job, when in reality he was the one who'd recently nearly wrecked his car looking for "Help Wanted" signs.

"Well, depending on when you wanna come, my folks are takin' their uh… 'couples' cruise' in like, a week. You could stay at my place."

Edd's face lit up at his friend's offer.

"Oh, Eddy, that would be fantastic! And what convenient timing… How long will they be away?"

"Mom said they're leaving for the airport Tuesday morning, but I'll have to find out when they're comin' back. It's usually like a week."

"Excellent!" Edd squeaked excitedly. "As soon as you find out I'll buy my bus ticket, and-"

"Bus?!" Eddy sat up. "You really think you'd survive a ride on the Freakshow Express? Get real! I'll drive it. Just gimme the address."

"Honestly, Eddy, the bus isn't that bad. I'm of the opinion that having to endure a few eccentrics is a small price to pay for ecologically sustainable transportation."

"I want to come get you." He was a little embarrassed by how intense he suddenly sounded. His heart rate picked up. An eyebrow arched beneath Edd's hat.

"Have you been adhering to your vehicle's maintenance schedule?"

"You can't help yourself, can you?" Eddy laughed and shook his head. "My car's fine. I just got the brake pads replaced, and I think they changed the oil. Might've been the wiper fluid... I dunno. How bout I bring ya the receipt and you can write your analysis on the way back?"

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm not jumping at the opportunity to be stranded on some rural back road with no phone service, and none of the tools required to correct whatever mechanical misfortune undoubtedly befalls us given our seemingly supernatural bad luck. Do you even have a roadside emergency kit? Preferably including road flares?"

"I still have the one you gave me! You act like we're goin' to Canada or something. It's a few hundred miles. I got cables, a spare, a jack, and I'll wear my cut offs in case we need to flag down some meathead to do the grunt work."

Edd's giggling tapered with a sigh.

"In that case, I look forward to seeing you, Eddy."

"I bet you do." He teased, making Edd redden. "Nah, I'm excited to see you too. Maybe we could, uh... get some lunch or somethin' while we're out there." It was a benign suggestion, but heightened excitement made it seem risky.

"I'd like that." Edd's calm voice masked the fact that he was screaming internally. No, he wouldn't read to much into his friend's words. He'd only end up hurt again. Instead, he read his watch. "I hate to cut our conversation short, Eddy, but I've got to start my nighttime routine."

As kids, they'd yap on the phone for hours with no lull until one or both of them fell asleep clutching the receiver. Eddy found himself grinning like an idiot at the not-so-distant memories. After such a long stretch of not speaking, it was difficult to say goodbye.

"Alright, have fun scrubbing your elbows or whatever it is you do."

"You know I will!"

"I'll let you know what my mom says. I'll text you!"

"Sounds great. Good-"

"Don't forget your phone!"

"I'll clip it to my belt tonight."

"'You better."

"Good night, Eddy."

"Night, Dee."

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

as promised... just over 1k of wind and mask mocking warriors's ass. I wrote it all in the middle of the night so apologies if it's a little... eh.

@bllaaaaarrgh @flustered-flux

ao3 link here (i recommend clicking on it even if it’s just to see the title)

"Hmm." The sailor said from behind Link.

"No." He said, not bothering to turn around. "Whatever you're planning, no. Absolutely not."

"We aren't planning anything!" The sailor protested.

"I don't believe you."

"It's true this time." Mask said, jogging up to walk at his side. "The sailor merely noticed something interesting."

"Uh-huh." He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is it where Ravio hid his fire rod?"

"You don't have an ass!" The sailor called.

Link choked, whirling around to face him. "What."

"You don't. Have. An ass." The sailor repeated slowly, a wide grin on his face.

"Nothing there." Mask said sadly. "Truly, a tragedy."

"What the hell, Sailor." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stop making comments about my ass."

"So you don't deny that it's flat?" He asked.

"My ass is not flat. Stop talking about it." He quickened his pace, leaving them behind.

"Sounds like something someone guilty of having a flat ass would say." He heard the sailor say to Mask.

It is wrong to punch children. He reminded himself. Even the really annoying ones.

"Do you need a pillow?" The sailor said, popping up at Link's side from seemingly nowhere.

He shifted away from him warily. "Why would I need a pillow?"

"That chair just looks so uncomfortable." He said in a sympathetic tone. "Surely, since your ass is so flat and provides no cushioning–"

Link stood up, grabbing the sailor by the back of his shirt and dragging him out of the tent.

"My apologies." He said, brushing nonexistent dirt off his clothes and sitting back down at the table. "The sailor is an idiot."

Midna hid a smile behind her hand. "It's no trouble at all, Captain."

Link smiled at Kree, holding his hands over the table. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to see you rece–"

His door flew open, slamming against the wall and probably putting a hole in it, and the sailor and Mask raced into his house, their boots skidding against the floor with a screech that made him wince.

"What are you doing here." He said flatly.

"Oh, this is your house?" The sailor said.

"Yes. Get out."

"Hey, Captain, is that your boyfriend?"

His eye twitched. "Yes. Leave."

"Hey, uh–" The sailor leaned forward on the table.

"Kree." He supplied.

"Sailor, don't you dare." He warned.

"Kree, how do you feel about Captain Link's flat ass?"

"His… flat ass?" Kree asked, watching as Mask retrieved a frog from under his hat and put it in Link's flower vase.

"Yes." He confirmed. "It's really fuckin' flat."

"Concave, even." Mask added.

Din, Farore, Nayru. He prayed. Please give me the strength not to murder these stupid kids.

"Why is there a frog in my flowers?" He finally said, confident he would not commit any acts of violence against children today.

"Mr. Bubbles is an important member of our family." Mask said with a deadpan expression. "Your flowers are not."

"Get out of my house." He said, suddenly very tired. "Go bother Midna or something."

"No." He said cheerfully.

"...Wait, why do you smell like smoke?"

The sailor slammed his hands on the table, fished Mr. Bubbles out of the vase, and opened the door. "Nice to meet you, Kree! Sorry his ass is flat!"

Kree waved after him, an amused look on his face.

"What did you burn down?" Link yelled after them.

The sailor turned, jogging backwards, and gave him a thumbs up. "They were dicks!" He assured him.

(Link was not reassured.)

"Where is it?" Link asked tiredly. He was really not in the mood to chase after the sailor today.

"That's what he said!" The sailor cackled, leaping over a bed and racing out of the tent.

(Unfortunately, it seemed, the gods had other plans for him.)

"My ass is not flat!" He yelled after him, voice cracking.

A few of the other soldiers gave him strange looks, but he ignored them, willing the healer to work faster so he could leave, find his fucking scarf, and take a goddamn nap.

"Friends, family, and frog." The sailor intoned solemnly. "We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Captain Link's ass."

Midna sniffled, pretending to brush away a tear with one hand. She held a confused frog in the other.

(Mr. Bubbles did not seem to be pleased to be there.)

"It may not have actually existed, but that does not mean that our loss is any less tragic." He continued, face twitching minutely in laughter.

Mask stared mournfully down at the two crossed twigs they had shoved into the ground, clutching his hat in his hands tightly in a clear attempt not to laugh.

"What in the name of Hylia are you doing?" Link asked, watching their mock funeral in confusion.

"Holding a funeral for your ass, Captain." Midna said. "I may not have been acquainted with it very well, but it has met with quite a terrible fate."

Mask winced and shoved his hat over the sailor's eyes. "Captain, please. Can't you see we're grieving?"

"You are holding a funeral for my ass."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's so flat it's nonexistent, and we needed to properly express our sadness." He said matter-of-factly.

"I can't believe you're encouraging them." Link said to Midna.

She shrugged, and placed the frog on Mask's head. "I suppose they remind me of my own idiot."

"Are you calling us idiots?" The sailor demanded.

"Of course not. I'm just saying you are a lot like my idiot." She glanced at Link as if to say that she was, in fact, calling them idiots.

(He couldn't help but agree with her.)

"Oh. Cool." The sailor said, turning back to Link's ass's gravestone.

Link sighed, resting his face in his hands. Nayru help him.

Link was not having a good day. First he had been pulled through a portal, landing in a pond, and now he was face to face with a weirdly familiar man who looked very familiar with his own sword.

The man looked him up and down. "Hello, Captain." A smile slowly spread across his face. "I see nothing has changed."

Link stared up at him, trying to remember where the hell they had met, before the words and familiar shit eating grin clicked into place.

"You little fucking brat." He said slowly, hands twitching as he resisted the urge to reach up and strangle Mask. "My ass is not flat!"

[puppeteerparty]

Erhm Enzo uh ACTUALLY erm your Wally x Reader story is really vindictive of erm reader goes to a strange website and wally is ogling them ahyuck nerd emoji 🤓🤓🤓 This is actually a VERY erhm harmful stereotypical plot calling you out on TWITTER.COM!!!1!1!1!1!!1!11!1!11!!!!!!! I cannot tolerate this behavior anymore *snorts and adjusts glasses and suspenders* and you ALSO bully kids on roblox so erhm YEAH!!!!!1!11!1!1!!1!1!1!1!! 🤓🤓🤓 I also slept with your MOTHER!!!!!1!111!!11!

Enzo's a bitch-ass motherfucker. He created an awful ass Wally Darling x Reader Choose Your Owm Adventure story. That's right. He took his fuckin' quilly device out and he wrote a FUCKING stereotypical reader x Wally story , and he said his story was THIS BIG, and I said that's disgusting. So I'm making a callout post on my Twitter.com. Enzo, you got a small dick AND story!!1!111. It's the size of this walnut except WAY smaller. And guess what? Here's what MY *nonexistent* Wally x Reader story looks like. That's right, baby. Great story, no grammatical errors, no plotholes, look at that, it looks like a solid Wally Darling x Reader story. He created Follow The Yellow Brick Road, so guess what, I'm gonna create Dont Follow The Purple Carpet Drive-through!11!!. That's right, this is what you get! My SUPER WALLY X READER STORY! Except I'm not gonna write it on the earth. I'm gonna go higher. I'm writing it on the MOOOON! How do you like that, OBAMA? I WROTE ON THE MOON, YOU IDIOT! You have twenty-three hours before the story D R O P L E T S hit the fucking earth, now get out of my fucking sight before I cancel you on twitter.com too.

(Enzo im sorry please find me funny PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEQSROPEASW- Also I FUCKING DIED WRITING "DONT FOLLOW THE PURPLE CARPET DRIVE-THROUGH" HELP. I MIGHT JUST MAKE THAT HAPPEN NOW.)

I'MMGOINNGOTO THROWUP UP WHAT DID YOUDODLOO)(#@i*&#^%rf#@gbh#@l#@opi#@uh0Op#*@&y Im keeping this with me forever, I just woke up and the absolute shock and katrillion of emotions I went through as I read this is INSANE ALSO PLEASEEE MAKE DON'T FOLLOW THE PURPLE CARPET DRIVE THROUGH REAL, I NEED TO SEE THIS SO BADLY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

[lostnfounder]

[The following is a video transcript recorded on Halloween of an encounter that occurred between Lostfield Reporter Ruth Shirbon and a mysterious figure outside the Showfall Media Lostfield facility.]

[Wind clips against the mic as Ruth cautiously approaches the side of the facility, holding up her phone with one hand to film her surroundings. The video isn’t picking up much other than pitch darkness and a few street lamps off in the distance. The ones around this side of the facility appear to either be turned off or nonexistent, not that they’re able to tell that, either.]

R: [Breathes out.] Jesus Christ, it’s cold out tonight. [Lets out another puff of air.] Just gotta get to this fuckin’ van, and back to Chase. Yeah. Okay. Fuuuck me, I’ve never done this before. This was a bad fucking idea.

[There’s a pause, filled by crickets chirping somewhere nearby and quieter wind ambience as Ruth comes to a brief stop before starting again, quicker this time.]

R: No turning back now, though.

[They finally get up close to the car, which is just barely made out by the camera. It’s a very large white van, Showfall branding almost visible but mostly left up to the imagination.]

R: Okay, creepyass car. Did someone leave you unlocked or am I out of luck? Or, uh. Going to have to set off a car alarm.

[There’s a sound of a car door handle resisting as they tug on the back door handle of the car.]

R: Goddammit. Next best bet is the driver’s. 

[The same sound.]

R: [Almost growl of frustration and apprehension.] Ghhh, okay, fine. The trunk.

[Cautiously, they creep around to the back of the car.]

R: Alright, here goes nothing. 

[She tugs on the handle of one of the doors, finding no resistance.]

R: Ohoho! Let’s-

[They swing open the trunk door.]

[The back of the inside of the car is full of boxes, intricately stacked and stapled with a scribbled label on each and every one. The trunk is dimly lit, only the night's light  revealing the contents. Opposed to the majority of boxes, there are some appealingly ripped open, with their contents spilling out onto the floor. Some appear to still be rolling out of their containers.] 

R: [She pauses. Wind rustles against the microphone. She begins to speak to herself again, this time very quietly.] Did… Did I open it hard enough to knock those over…? 

[There's a subtle movement of another box, and the huff of..a living thing. A breathing thing. The area returns to being deathly still.] 

R: [Freezes.] Oh, fuck. 

[There's an extremely quiet sigh (of…relief?), as something begins speaking.]

?: You aren't..with..Showfall?.

R: [Whispering.] Oh, fuck, oh fuck. Uhm. [A little louder.] W-Who are you? [Fumbling with phone.] Ughh- Damn these fucking tremors!! Where is my flash-

?: Don't. Please don't turn on your light. It'll be... too bright. [Their voice seems hoarse, and worn-out.] You sound... familiar? 

R: What the fuck- Who are you? A-Are you with-

?: Kind of? I mean, judging by your reaction, you... aren't? And, that's... a good question. 

R: Jesus fucking- [Takes a gulp of air.] Okay. Okay. Uh. I assume this isn’t your car, then? Thank fuck. I. Uhm. I’m not stealing. At all.

?: NO, no, no, I'm stealing as well. And hiding. Can't, bring more of these fucks inside. Dangerous as it is. 

R: O-Oh. Uhm. [Glances around nervously.] Should I. Uhm. Climb in there too. I don’t like being visible. 

?: Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Someone is, uh, gonna make rounds near here soon so. I'd say get in?

R: Jesus. [With one motion, she hops up into the car and fully shuts the door behind her. The nighttime sounds and wind cut out abruptly, along with the lights on the inside of the trunk.] 

?: Fuck, its dark in here. I have a makeshift torch if you want it on? 

R: Are there windows?

?: No, there shouldn't be, I don't think. Gonna be honest, I'm not too knowledgeable on these vans. Not my facility. [The figure pauses, then resumes.] That sounds fucked, doesn't it.

R: N- No?? I. [Sigh.] I just wanted to grab some sort of evidence and get out of here. What are you doing in here?

?: Running from another PR member, saw the van and thought 'Hey! I could fuck up their plans a bit!'. Want to help my friends, you know? And I can't blame you, this place is creepy as hell.

R: Jesus. That PR team will just not stop coming up. Do you, uh, happen to know anything in here that I could take and reasonably add to a corkboard? Maybe?

?: Nah, they're everywhere dude! But, there is one thing I found that you may like? If you're doing investigations on Showfall and stuff?

R: Huh? Oh, you uh. Kinda gathered that huh.

?: I speak to someone who is! Speaking of which, have to remind them about something.. anyways! Yeah, I did. What're you specifically looking for? There's tons of stuff in here.

R: I don’t know, man. Uhm. Anything small enough for me to book it out of here with? God, I’ve never been this close to the facility, ughh. This is so nervewracking for no reason. Well. Uh. I think there’s a reason, but. Nevermind.

?: There's definitely reasonable ideas for not coming near! Then... the not so reasonable. Either way.

R: [Sighs, reaching over to one of the boxes to look inside.] Alright, creepyass van, what’re you hiding.

?: [The figure moves about, picking up some of the fallen items back into their boxes and lingering over certain items.]

R: [Her voice is quieter.] What’s that? 

?: I don't... know. These aren't from here, and there's no designs for them at the mall. Hm.

R: Can I-?

?: Take a look? Sure, but I should warn you beforehand. Showfall's tech... has some interesting effects. Including attacking.

R: … I would be surprised, but uh. Let’s just say I’ve… encountered. Some of it. Before.

[They gingerly take the device out of the stranger’s hand. It’s a small rectangular object that’s cool to the touch, like metal. It’s slightly too dark for the camera to currently make out any of the details on it, though.]

R: Wait a second, a tape recorder?? I have one of these at home- ugh, and here I thought everything in this van was going to be evil potions and like, sinister tomes and shit. 

? : Why does everyone think Showfall is demons and magick? Is that just a common thing in Lostfield Town? 

R: Everyone?? Pfft. No, I’m, like, literally the only one. Except… Mikayla. Maybe. But she, uh. Actually on second thought I don’t know if she knew about the demons either.

?: Huh. I mean, at least it isn't supporting them? I think there was only one demon "character", and luckily he made it outside. [They sigh quietly (almost longingly?)] 

R: …Sure, man. {"Only one".}

?: ...Did I say something?

R: No, no. Totally. Uh. [She goes back to inspecting the recorder.] I can’t believe they just have a bunch of normalass stuff in here, though. Laaaame. Why did I sneak all the way over here.

?: I wouldn't underestimate the things here, they're enough to do some damage. Just because it isn't staring you in the face, doesn't mean it's nonexistent.

R: [Snort.] Yeah. I’m sure the tape recorder can do a whole lot of damage, man. 

?: You haven't seen what they can do with the masks, dude. It's…messed up, for lack of a better expression. [The figure shifts, moving their arm to their face.]

R: … I’ve seen… enough. [She shifts uncomfortably.] I just don’t know how this- [They shake the tape recorder, and it make a vague rattling sound.] -is gonna end up being all that dangerous. 

?: I don't know, man! All I know is that I'm not willing to risk it again! And neither should you. [They pause, before continuing] I dont mean to pry, but... why are you dressed like a TV character?

R: [They sound slightly annoyed.] Great timing, man. And… because it’s Halloween? I kind of assumed you knew, with whatever’s, like, shining on your face right now. [They quietly hold the camera up slightly higher so it can catch a tiny sliver of light refracting off of the stranger’s face.]

?: Oh. Oh. No, uh, I didn't know that was…it isn't.. it's not important. It won't affect you, I promise. I forgot Halloween was today.

R: Hm. Your loss. [Brief pause.] Okay, sorry, that was mean. But uh. Oh, hey. [She rummages around in her bag for a moment. There’s a sudden sound of crinkling plastic as they produce a small, slightly shiny object and toss it over to the stranger.] Here. Candy. Boom. Happy Halloween, or whatever.

?: [They turn it over in their hands, almost confused?] For... me? Are you sure? I'm not sure if you'd want me to- 

R: No, no, dude, it’s fine. We bought, like, a gazillion for the crazyass trick-or-treating kids. I mean, are you like… allergic to peanuts, or something? 

?: Not that I know of? Honestly, thank you. Seriously. I can't remember the last time I had something sweet. [They seem to hold the candy tightly to them.]

R: Yeah, no issue, man. Anyways. I think I’m gonna- 

[There’s a sudden shout from somewhere outside the car, sounding almost like someone calling out for someone else. The mic on the phone isn’t good enough to pick up any exact words, but the tone is vaguely threatening.]

R: Wh-

?: I thought I'd have more time- [Their voice is lowered to a whisper now.] Look. I need you to stay in here until I say so, if you're the first out... it's not good. At all.

R: [Whispering as well.] What?? Who’s out there?? 

?: It's the guy I mentioned earlier, that PR member. He's the one who put this on me. Please, stay here until it's safe?

R: H- Wha- How do I know when it’s-?

?: I'll yell. Safe is when he's most distracted, you should be able to get out. Take whatever with you, I can probably steal stuff when it's brought inside.

R: I-I- [Heavy breathing.] Fuckin- This probably a bad time, but do I know you from somew-

[There’s another shout from outside, sounding considerably closer this time. Ruth freezes.]

?: You do sound... familiar. Okay. I'm gonna go out there, please keep an ear out until I shout? [The figure is already nearing the car door]

R: [Still hyperventilating.] I. Okay. Okay. Yeah.

?: Okay. Deep breaths. You can do this. [The figure opens the door, the moonlight exposing their appearance, only just out of view of the camera]

{I tried to get a good look at them, I swear.} 

R: Okay. [Deep breath.] Okay.

[The figure hops out of the car and dashes out of the camera's field of vision. There's what sounds like a cackle from the mystery persuer as they, presumably, give chase.]

?: [Further away, outside of the van.] RUTH. RUN! PLEASE!

R: Shiiiit- 

[Suddenly, there’s wind clipping against the mic again for a few moments, the glows of distant streetlamps bouncing along with Ruth’s footsteps before she shoves the phone into her pocket, muffling but not entirely muting the sounds of her heavy bootsteps.]

[There’s about half a minute of this before she finally comes to a stop, practically gulping in air.]

R: Jesus fucking Christ.

[There's a muffled rustling in the bushes, right before-]

C: RUTH-

R: AGH-

C: How did it go? Are you- Ohhh, fuck, you were running, is- is something chasing you? Do I need to run too?? Oh god-

R: Chase. Oh my god. [Brief pause to look over their shoulder.] No. I’m- We’re good.

C: Did- What happened?? You were gone for a really fucking long time.

R: It wasn’t that long. 

C: Yes it- Yes it was!! I thought something- fucking- got you, man.

R: [Quietly.] Oh.

C: Maybe don’t walk right up to the facility??

R: But I was feeling. Uhm. Courageous?

C: {I wish I could describe the Look he gave me here, man.}

R: Ughhh, okay, fine. You’re right. It was a bad idea. But I… oh my fucking god.

C: What. 

R: …I forgot to grab anything.

C: …ARE YOU SER-

R: LISTEN-

[There’s a sound of fabric rustling right before Ruth grabs the phone out of their pocket and ends the recording. End transcript.]

okay so. uhm. ending thoughts. how the fuck did they know my name

[prvtocol]

"hey, wait, where's my fuckin goodbye-kiss,?" Vaas is all grins as he catches her arm just at the estate door, red optics looking her business attire up and down as she prepares to depart for her meeting with Arasaka executives or whoever the fuck. Vaas is acutely aware of Clarence's presence, which is exactly why this unusual goodbye gesture is demanded of her. the asshole can watch. The Los Piratas president pulls Bri in, his lips finding hers and his hands sneaking to grab and squeeze where he knows it will embarrass her and make her security guard uncomfortable. // 🙄 smh vaas!

wonderful random asks ( always accepting ) ✿

Brianne thinks nothing of Vaas lingering near the AV hanger door. He stayed the night and less sleep was had for it, but her routine remains the same — showered, dressed in one of her many similar-looking black work suits and heels, security in tow, and the corp's branded AV waiting for a brief flight to Arasaka Tower for the day’s meetings. An amicable farewell graces the smile curving glossed nude lips, a gentler mirror to the Night City gang president's overwrought grin. A thought goes to mentioning the food in the fridge until his request catches her and her arm off-guard. 

His what? Her wide stare is quizzical, her body going rigid as the firm grasp reels her into his muscular form. Resistance per usual is nonexistent. She can’t really say no to him. A roaming hand of his snakes around her narrow waist as his mouth ungently finds hers willingly parted even if her mind tells her "no, not now, not in front of Turay." Likewise, a palm rests rather than resists against his chest, fingertips idle atop the necklace of his plastic shark tooth pendant and the hem of his red tank top as she subsides to his needs. It's the unexpected squeeze of her backside that breaks the connection and brings a gasp-like “oh!” with it. Her tight pencil skirt is grasped and sliding up her bare thighs, threatening to reveal her plain beige knickers underneath. Breath is stolen and her dignity might be too. 

The source of the woman's embarrassment of this carnal display stands silent, clad in a black armor-weaved suit, his defined arms already crossed. Turay was quick to cast his sight aside with a roll of his eyes, allotting this mismatched pairing their privacy but more so withdrawing any visceral annoyance from the ganger’s view. His charge, a distinguished Arsaaka director willingly going to bed with one of NC’s most wanted and her extortionist who parades around her estate like he owns it (and in some ways he does), is a mockery to his job’s objective. This unusual display is another prime moment to shove it in his face. 

Kiss is broken and the prim and proper corpo is a flustered mess of a woman left to stare at the grin returning to Vaas' glossed smudged lips. Stepping back from his hold commences a needed straightening of the folds of her work dress and push of the stray hairs behind her ears. Besotted confusion mars a face with cheeks turned a tinge of red.

“Right then.” So stammers the awkward affirmation of her delayed departure, wide eyes blinking. What has gotten into him? “Oh uh, and feel free to eat those leftovers in the fridge if you like,” follows a woozily stated reminder of the Chinese takeaway ordered and shared last evening.

Sight neglects to make contact with her security chief, an unmovable (and undoubtedly disgruntled) column in her periphery. Instead, she marches straight through the hanger door for what will be another awkward and silent AV ride to the tower. The same every morning after Vaas visits and decides to make a show of his authority over her and her estate (and by extension her security). Turay is set to follow but not before lobbing the smug ganger a stare, ice cold and with enough disdain to linger in the model home's perfect surroundings long after.

[justabunchofdragons]

[Video Description: a TikTok by @oldJackOutOutOut looking at and talking to the camera.

They say "Wildest thing to me as a Canadian spending time in the US is that- are the manners. They don't exist here. (listing on their fingers) Please, thank you, you're welcome? Nonexistent. When they order food, (laughs) they say 'Let me get a-', 'I'll have a-' 'I'll take a-' 'I'll take a number 3'. (gestures angrily at the camera) May I please, doesn't exist here. 'Can I please get-?' No. 'I'll take a number 3, please'? That doesn't even, like fucking... are you fucking... Dude and the 'You're welcomes'? They don't say you're welcome. I'm talking to the cashier, I'll say thank you. They'll go 'uh huh' (makes a punching motion towards the camera) 'Uh huh'? Fuck you, dude. (mimicking themselves) 'Thank you so much, have a good day.' (mimicking the cashier) 'Uh huh' (makes a sound of frustration) Fuck you. 'I'll take a... I'll take a number 3.' Fuckin... oh I'm- (video cuts off) /End Desc.]

[chewwypepsicola]

ASKING YOU ABOUT YOUR AVA/AVM HEADCANONS!! I'D LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT THEM

I AM ABOUT TO GO CRAZY IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT...

okay lets start with just my hollowhead hcs brace yourselves i wrote a lot

SECOND/ORANGE: Second isn't actually all that fond of being called TSC he prefers to just be refered to as Orange since that way he feels less like the odd one out of the color gang, he already has enough w his big ass head! So he def prefers that name over his actual name, think of it like a nickname ! Another one, he has no idea of what he is capable of. LIKE. in AvA 5 showdown he gets his shit rocked and then unlocks his inheret hollowhead OP powers right? here's the thing, what if, while all of that was happening, he's completely unconscious and going on auto pilot? Not only does he pass out again and then wake up confused and in disbelief at seeing his friends alive but he is also very confused as to why Chosen bowed to him! He has no clue that it was *HIM* who saved the day and defeated Dark !! RAAHH !! That why we never see him use his powers again (at least fully, or conscious lol) Cause in ep 16 note block battle he had just woken up and in his half-sleep state he went there just to shut his friends up and go back to bed, in my heart of hearts the fuckin uh energy wave he produced wasnt even a conscious action!! And speaking of his sleeping habits, i think its pretty interesting to see him sleeping so much, i either think it has relation to his powers (even if showdown came after we started to see him sleeping constantly) just for the lols. Another one is that he's just narcoleptic haha

CHOSEN/TCO: Fucked up little guy he's poprtrayed as cool and level headed and serious by the fandom but all i can think of is back to him first being given his name and deciding to instantly break stuff and cause trouble, he is a menace!! I hc that he is angry a lot of the time, he's just a silent-rage type of guy, easily irritable and impatient, probably sarcastic and to-the-point when he talks I think he also sleeps a lot, like Second, but in his case he's just depressed el o el, he is also haunted by memories of his time being used by Alan/Creator as an AdBlocker cause that sure had to leave sequels, so he is depressed and thus sleeps a lot but then has terrible nightmares about being a prisoner and thus doesnt sleep but then gets tired and has to sleep a lot and then its just a terrible terrible cycle- He has decided to move on and "forgive" Creator but he still needs to go to therapy tbh One more for him is that he is both very caring to Orange and very scared of him. HEAR ME OUT, Chosen knows what this kid is capable of, he knows that Second doesnt know, and decides to keep it that way for both of their sakes. STILL, even if he is very intimidated by what his little brother can do he still cares for him and looks after him the way he wishes he would have been looked after, even if Orange already has a loving support system in the color gang Chosen tends to go out of his way to check on him, i think that Chosen yearning for family is fucked up and in character since he was the first one to get severly punished by their Creator and even if Orange doesnt need a loving caring family (he already has one) he's gonna give it to him godddammit !! (for both of them)

DARK/TDL: MY BABYGIRL oh god ohhh god Okay so to start off, middle-child syndrome. Lots of insecurities and issues with identity and finding out who he is and what is his purpose. Simple one: i think the bracelets he made to enhance his powers are now imposible to take off and got broken so badly that his powers are now nonexistent (or at least suuuperrr weak) cause of them malfuctioning. His insecurities come from being literally the weakest of the HollowHeads, imagine being one out of three inherently superpowerful (and probably inmortal!) beings in the world and then not even coming close to defeat either of them on your own. FUCKED UP! And we know he is aware of this cause he makes all of this technology to enhance his strength and be able to stand on the same ground as Chosen. He only won his second fight w Chosen cause of his gadgets and his bots. And even with those he got easily defeated by Second. In showdown, if we become a little bit crazy, you can interpret his desperation to kill Second as Fear. The moment he thinks Second is down he goes and tries to get his plan into motion cause who fuckin knows what might happen next . And, as he feared. Orange beats him up and all that he worked for is gone in seconds! And im not saying that him making all of those bots and killing innocent sticks cause they were in his way is okay DEF NOT but i think i can see where it comes from Here come in play his issues with identity, since being given a name he was going to be Chosen antithesis, the one to defeat him and forever be enemies, but he lost, and instead of finding doom at the hands of Chosen or at the hands of the Creator, he finds companionship and a brother in Chosen, both of them break out of what they were supposed to be and run away after causing a mess. Again mentioning how Chosen is the more destructive/chaotic one, i think that Dark held onto that and decided alright! this is me now! Just like him! Destructive. He makes that his entire personality and goal since he doesnt actually have any other. He was given a mission which was to destroy Chosen, he failed, and then he got a new mission, destroy Alan's PC, and then he, didnt have anything, just chosen, so he kept on destroying stuff, thats what they both did! And then, against his given interpretation of being a destroyer. he created something, he made viruses and bots yes, but he MADE them, he made himself something to be stronger, he had a plan that he was genuelly excited to show Chosen, like, "Look! I can get us revenge on the Creator, for what he did to you! For what he did to us!" ITS JUST SO. BITTERSWEET TO ME,, that when he thinks hes doing something by his own free will he's meet with rejection and told to stop, so thats why he sticks to it, he goes thru with his plan and decides hes not going to follow orders around anymore, this is what he is this is what he wants, he wants revenge, he wants to make the person that hurt him HURT. its so.... OUGH And then of course it doesnt work as he wanted. he loses yet another battle and is left alone to put himself back together, it makes me so so so sad to think about him badly injured and having to pick himself up and just. move on. In my perfect world after Showdown Chosen goes to look for Dark and they slowly but surely start to rebuild their relationship again.

ALRIGHT thats all i got now MAN i really have a lot of thoughts on this HJDASFHJSDHJF THANK YOU FOR ASKING DEAR ANON U MEAN THE WORLD TO ME, HAVE TINY DARK DOODLE <3 hes showing u the blueprints for his next project

[morsartis]

The Bets Are On

You didn't always get dragged along on tours with Marvus, preferring to stay away from the sheer chaos of the limelight. It wasn't that you hated it but you certainly weren't a big fan of having Marvus within reach and yet still not being able to see him. The packed schedule that came with his tours were a drag and you weren't even bound by them. But Ourani and Revell had both asked you to be there, it was important that Marvus and his band were seen in a positive light while on an Earth bound tour. A surprising side effect of the current alliance between the two was the fact bands were allowed to perform on both planets for the first time. It was an opportunity that no one in the entertainment industry could pass up on- not even Marvus. Which was why you were there- they were trying to involve as many humans as possible as a show of good faith. Revell had been the most excited about it as the band's human sensitivity trainer. The fact he wasn't even human in the first place was both amusing and a glaring sign of Alternia's many problems. It'd be insulting if Revell wasn't so serious about his job, often consulting as many humans as he possibly could over the most minute detail and advocating for an actual human to do the training instead of himself. Unfortunately his hands were tied on that front.

Lost in your own thoughts you nearly fell off the chair you were sitting in when Ourani slammed the door to the break room open looking frazzled. His usually slightly wrinkled but tidy clothes were a wreck- tie askew and shirt buttoned wrong with his hair sticking up at odd angles. He looked like he'd survived a mob. "Thaaaat's it! I caaaan't do this aaaanymore! Maaaarvus is driving me to drink!" He shrieked the second the door swung closed behind him. You winced slightly and gave him a sympathetic smile.

"How I've laaaasted this long is aaaa daaaamn mystery!" He continued tossing his clipboard onto the table. You could only imagine what he'd been having to deal with.

"What did he do this time?"

"Whaaaat did he do this time? This time? Its less whaaaat he’s done aaaand more whaaaat he’s going to do! He purposely faaaailed every single humaaaan sensitivity course he waaaas instructed to taaaake! Do you haaaave aaaany ideaaaa how haaaard it waaaas to even get him to those courses? Its like trying to herd feraaaal purr-beaaaasts!” He all but wailed sinking down into the chair opposite from you. It creaked under his weight- built more for humans than adult trolls- and you feared it might collapse under the poor rust blood. The last thing he needed to happen when he was already this close to a break down.

“I know I talk a lot of shit about Marvus but he can’t be that bad.”

Those were clearly the wrong words to say to Marvus’ top personal assistant as Ourani looked at you with an expression bordering on murderous and manic.

“Oh, you think so huh? You think you caaaan haaaandle being Maaaarvus’ Personaaaal Aaaasistaaaant? You think you can do better thaaaan I caaaan? Fine! Why don’t you do my job todaaaay then? He’s got aaaa full schedule aaaand haaaas aaaalreaaaady shown signs of trying to blow it aaaall off!”

“Uh-,”

“Even better ideaaaa! We’ll maaaake aaaa bet out of it. If you caaaan get Maaaarvus to staaaay on traaaack I’ll paaaay some of thaaaat debt you owe to Gorjek.”

“Wh-,”

“Aaaand if you lose? I’ll finaaaally quit!” He was grinning wildly now, eyes bright with glee at the thought of quitting.

“How about if I win you just schedule Marvus a little down time?” You offered instead. Trying to hopefully keep him from losing it further.

“Fine.” He replied looking slightly less like he might jump over the table and throttle you or the next person to walk into the break room. With a more steadying breath Ourani extended his hand to shake on the bet and you gladly took it. Anything to keep him from going full American Psycho on everyone there. You both nearly lept out of your skins when his phone went off to let him know his short break was over. "How about that bet starts now and you go home to get some actual sleep?" You offered, Ourani nodded vigorously to that already shoving his clipboard into your hands. He couldn't seem to get out of there fast enough it seemed. You hoped he'd get some actual rest, the poor guy was one of the most overworked people on the job. Glancing down at the clipboard you winced. Ourani really wasn’t kidding when he said Marvus had a full schedule, looks like you could kiss any other plans you had today goodbye. Straightening out your clothes you went to go find Marvus- wherever he could have gotten. Most likely he wouldn’t be trying to hide from you. He’d be expecting Ourani to be the one trying to hunt him down.

You’d been wandering for five minutes when you finally found him. He was actually where he was supposed to be- chatting with his bandmates who immediately perked up to see you.

“Oh shit! Look who it is.”

“Hey guys, mind if I steal Marvus away for a second?” You asked cheerfully. His bandmates had a soft spot for you and it was easy to get them to agree. Their soft spot would make this bet a little easier to win, hopefully.

“Whatchu need babes?” Marvus asked once the two of you had gotten far enough away. You smiled up at him warmly. "Well, first off-," You grabbed the sides of his purple jacket to pull him down closer to your height, "I'd like a kiss." "Shit babe, all you had ta do was ask." He grinned leaning into you. His arm carefully wrapped around your waist as he tilted your chin up to get better access. You huffed a small laugh as he gave your lip a small nip before kissing you. Letting your eyes close for a brief moment to fully enjoy the kiss you cupped his jaw with your hands before regretfully having to pull back- Marvus attempting to follow you. "Secondly," You murmured interrupted by another brief kiss, "You have a meeting in two minutes." "What." You grinned at his flat off guard tone. Not being able to help yourself as you giggled. "I have your entire schedule for the day." "No."

"Mm, yes."

"Babe-,"

"You also have a meeting with Revell to talk about those courses you flunked out of."

"How-,"

"Ourani went home for the day, I'm gonna be your PA so he can actually get some sleep."

"Oh?"

"Don't get any ideas." You interrupted already knowing where his mind was going, "I'm going to make sure you get through your entire schedule whether you like it or not."

"C'mon, just give me an hour." "I might consider it-," He grinned, "After we get through your schedule."

Marvus pouted.

“Work Marvus. Focus on work.”

“Aww, but you be lookin’ so cute when you take charge.”

“And you’ll be a lot more appealing when you actually do your job.”

“Damn.” He muttered under his breath already standing back up to his full height. “Alright baby, guess we cans go to this meeting.”

It looked, at least for the moment, you might actually win this bet.

Then again, you had yet to get him to go to his meeting with Revell. For some reason those two couldn’t stand each other- you’d zoned out briefly during one of his rants only catching something vague about their ancestors that only confused you more. Revell was actually a kind troll though his threshold for what he dubbed ‘highblood nonsense’ was practically nonexistent. He seemed rather fascinated by human culture, often asking you questions on things he didn’t quite understand- some of his questions not even you could answer with any degree of accuracy. But, Marvus and him were known for their fights. Not even in the pitch leaning way either. You had yet to witness their fights but Ourani had talked about them looking pale and shaky- considering the fact that he’d been witness to the usual Alternian concert slaughter fests that happened with Marvus you had to admit you were afraid to see what could shake him like that. If Marvus' PR team was surprised to see him actually at the meeting they didn't say, though they seemed happy to see you with him. Taking your seat next to Marvus you glanced down at the schedule again. He had this meeting, his meeting with Revel, an autograph signing, and then a meeting with a lesser known human band you hadn't even heard of. Knowing Marvus all of these would be a few hours each.

“You bein’ awfully quiet over there.” Marvus murmured to you while his PR team bickered. You glanced up from the clipboard you’d been staring a hole through to give him a flat look. Better to not put him on edge.

“Just trying to figure out how to get you from point A to point B.”

“C’mon baby I ain’t that bad.”

“Ourani would beg to differ.”

“Then he can fuckin’ beg.”

You smacked his arm earning a small chuckle as he turned back to the meeting.

This was going to be a very long day.

[iknowyuu]

Um...uh for your requests section could you possibly do Bakugo x Chubby Reader who faints because she's dehydrated on a very hot summer day and he has to carry her? Then when she wakes up she says that he could have hurt himself carrying her.

If not, that's totally OK I just wanted to contribute to your ask for requests.

---

STAY HYDRATED!

Bakugou Katsuki x Chubby! Reader Headcannons

In which a chubby! reader faints from dehydration on a hot summer day, and Bakugou has to carry her.

WARNINGS: NONE YO

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HIII YES I TOTALLY CAN 🙏🏾 ENJOY!!! 💙

---

LISTEN OKAY IT'S HARD TO GET BAKUGOU TO STOP BEING PRODUCTIVE

mans goes to bed at 20:00? LIKE?

HE'S LITERALLY AN OLD MAN

so when you FIIIIINALLY got him to agree to going out shopping with you and the bakusquad.. man

life was so fine

the mall you both went to was kind of an outdoor mall, the stores were all set up like normal, but it was more open.

so, basically the one class 1-A went to that one time LOL

you all split up, deciding to meet back at the food court in an hour

you and bakugou just so happened to be put together

BUT IT WASN'T A DATE 🙅🏿‍♀️🙅🏿‍♀️

YEAH... IT TOTALLY WASN'T 😏

that being said,

dude it was SO hot

it was like... 38°c 😐 WHO SAID IT COULD BE THIS HOT

you and bakugou were walking around with bags, bakugou mostly complaining about having to hold yours when in reality he didn't mind

he would never admit it though LOL

he noticed you were getting a little sluggish

you're usually a very upbeat person, and he does recall you telling him that you do NOT like the heat

"hey, bakugou.. can we- can we take a break?"

his eyes are dead set on yours when you turn back to him and ask him that question.

he doesn't even have control of the words of affirmation that come out of his mouth, he's just concerned for you BUT LIKE ALWAYS he's not gonna admit

you both find a bench and begin walking towards it, but before you reach it, you start to sway, and eventually you begin leaning backwards, eyes closing and signalling unconscious-ness.

bakugou's first instinct is to drop the few bags he's holding and catch you before you even have the chance to hit the ground

a few people turn his way BUT HE IMMEDIATELY SCARES THEM OFF

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT, SHITHEADS?" they scatter HAHAHA

he looks back down at you and frowns, opting to carry you bridal style, picking up the bags with the hand securing your legs.

as he's walking out of the mall, anyone who dares even LOOK in y'all direction gets a DEATH GLARE that literally sends shivers down their spines

they'll have nightmares of him tonight FO SHO'

by the time you come to, you're in mina's car in the parking lot with the air conditioning facing towards you, she's looking at you from the front seat very worriedly

kirishima and kaminari are in the car next to you

bakugou is sitting in the seat next to you with his head resting on his hand, scrolling through his phone

you blink a few times and mina gasps, signalling to everyone that you're awake!!

"yo..what..?...what even happened??"

"YOU'RE ALIVE!!"

kirishima rolls his window up.

"you fainted, that's what." bakugou turns his head towards you, "are you dumb, or something? why didn't you bring water if you knew it was gonna be hot?"

he's speaking softer than usual, but not like a SOFT soft. just more so than he usually does

you apologize as mina hands you a water bottle and you drink some to quench your thirst, "how did i get here?"

"BAKUGOU CARRIED YOU," kirishima yells from his car, "SUPER MANLY, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF!"

"SHUT IT, SHITTYHAIR!!"

you frown, "but.. you could've hurt yourself carrying me,"

"YEAH? AND YOU HURT YOURSELF NOT DRINKING WATER. IS ME CARRYING YOU REALLY YOUR FIRST CONCERN??"

"AWWW BAKUGOUUU YOU CARE ABOUT HER 🥺"

"SHUT THE HELL UP RACCOON EYES!! WHY DON'T MIND YOUR FUCKIN' BUSINESS?? HUH?"

you smile at bakugou as mina starts up her car, and when he turns back to you he doesn't hold your gaze for long before he turns away, a tiny, almost nonexistent blush on his cheeks.

all's well that ends well!!

---

13/09/2021 — unedited

[autoplaysdigimon]

So, let’s talk comics again.

Previously, I showed off the transition between seasons 1 and 2, and how it cut off about three quarters of 01 content. 

(Also, since that cover was scanned, it has come apart from the rest of the book, and now I have two halves of cover for this comic. Alas.)

The comic series for 02 must have been handled by different people, because it’s ever so slightly different to the anime. But, uh, the quality is about the same as before.

This is a cute detail to include, even if the scene that this is from didn’t appear in the comic. You can see that it’s the actual photo that was taken, with everyone staring at the egg! How nice.

TK, Kari and, weirdly, Izzy are missing from this. I’d chalk it up to all three of them showing up in this story, but Tai does too, so who fuckin knows.

This is their first appearance, no scene of TK and Davis or anything. Of note is that Kari doesn’t insult Davis, maybe he’s less of a douche in this version. Also: “football”, not soccer. Different markets, I suppose, but I know that we call it soccer here in New Zealand, so????

“YOUR BROTHER IS AWESOME AND I WANNA BE HIM”

Davis Motomiya: Disaster Bi.

Oooo, an almost swear? “Oh my God” seems a bit risky for a kid’s comic.

This art style is adorable! Much better than the 01 version, even though they appear in the SAME COMIC.

BELIEVEABLE DIALOGUE. Although hey, there’s a “damn” there! They must have had their big boy pants on for this translation or something?

I really like “UH OH” as a sound effect.

(...ignore that spot above Kari’s dialogue there, it doesn’t seem to be on the actual comic so it must have been a scanning oopsie.)

Here’s these guys’ introduction! Why is Cody there? Who knows!

Also I was wrong, this mention of Izzy is his only “appearance” in this one, so why didn’t he get to be in the age-up panel up there? How rude.

(He appears in the next one, so they weren’t going for any “ooo what does IZZY look like!” suspense kinda thing. They were just bullying the poor kid.)

Hey look, a panel from the show! I don’t think that one actually shows up in this episode, though, weirdly.

Yolei why are you reading someone else’s email? Rude.

The dialogue immediately before this is Kari saying “Not all of us can go!” and then this happens, immediately proving her wrong. This version of the story just utterly blitzes through the plot points, doesn’t it? No hesitation, just action. It kinda takes the charm out of it a bit?

Not entirely,

but a little bit.

Now, I say that, and then I have to present to you my absolute favourite panel from this mess.

...I

I’m so glad I took a break between the last comic and this, in retrospect, because it means that I got to have the last avatar up for a while before I changed it to this. IT’S TOO PERFECT I LOVE IT

The egg is just on a fucking path, I guess. Why not?!

...

Well, that’s another strong contender.

Davis inherently understanding this all notwithstanding, this sequence never fails to crack me up. What was your thought process here, Davis? Why the sassy? Why did fear not happen? Who are you???

Now, you may have noticed some sequence breaking here - by this point in the episode, we should have our little blue friend by now. This is the biggest difference between the two versions.

In the anime, they discuss the egg a bit, try to lift it, and Davis succeeds. Veemon is born, they throw around some introductions, and then Monochromon shows up and ruins their day. 

In this version...

...this happens, somehow.

I don’t understand

THERE HE IS I LOVE HIM

...and then his birthday is IMMEDIATELY RUINED.

HOW IS THIS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER

I just... I don’t know what to say that could add to this situation. This is the funniest damn thing to ever happen and there’s nothing that I can say that could make it funnier. Between every expression that Davis makes, the fact that they forget that they’re in mortal peril because a little blue man appeared, poor Veemon’s triumphant debut being interrupted and losing all of his momentum, the fact that you can hear the nonexistant music grind to a halt for this one moment, and the fact that even the Digimon Emperor and Monochromon are given pause... fucking hell this is my favourite moment.

“im 12 seconds old and what is this”

dshgkjhdjl Veemon you absolute fuckup. Never change.

There’s a minor plot hole in the dub, where Davis shouts “Digi-Armour Energise” without knowing that phrase, the second episode confirming that they have to shout that and Davis didn’t just make it up. In the original version, Veemon tells him to shout it, but his line was changed for the dub. Interestingly enough:

It’s preserved in this version! Along with the basics of the line that they changed it to in the dub! Weird. Were they going off the original script, or was there someone on the writing team who noticed that?

The fight goes slightly differently, but the basics are the same.

This panel is cool as fuck, tho.

You know what? I am ready for a new adventure. Let’s do it.

(Does Davis have a tear in his eye there? CUTE)

[nellynee]

Trollstopia Blindblogging: episode 9a:  Glitter Rush

This episode wasn’t actively harmful like that one Cloud guy episode. But given how contradictory in tone towards lore it was from minute one it was just kinda painful to watch. I mean it was funny and cute in a mindless way, but frustrating from a lore perspective. I give it a 2/5 and will leave it on “perfectly ok”

Wait how they be out of Glitter? The only indication of where glitter comes from for us is the Glitter Trolls. So I’ve always built around the idea that Glitter is a biological byproduct of Trolls. and thus in theory the only bottleneck comes from potential production speed...

“Uh oh that doesn’t sound good at all” Everyone gives Lownote a disbelieving look (note I’ve place Funk firmly in the lowest tier of Glitter producers, beat out only by Techno in that their own production is nearly nonexistent having been traded mostly for biolumincence. And that Glitter tends to be a luxury reserved for upper class performers and more a want than need, so I LOVED that) 

Glitter pits?

See this is what I mean. Is glitter a biological byproduct or a natural resource? You can’t have it both ways. I feel like I’m gonna hate this from a world building perspective. 

This is OBSENCE

Trick or treat???? TROLLS HAVE HALOWEEN?

Like someone in headquarters is not paying attention to this script. The holiday shorts are specifically crafted to be as ambiguous on time of year and denomination with vague holiday handwavy cheer for vibes without pinning that kind of stuff in universe and then HOLOWEEN. I am.... two, two minutes in and I’m already wincing hard at the crumbling jenga tower of worldbuilding this episode is trying to take a sledghammer to. I might have to throw the whole thing out in my brain after we are done

Fuckin SYNTH

I was so excited for like 2 seconds because I thought they were going to try some Techno specific glow alternative to glitter but the joke was just that Synth is a himbo and you know I’m good with that.

Taking a second to appreciate how TINY those birds have to be. Like fingernail sized. 

HOLLY TO THE RESCUE! god I love her. She’s a jacked up, Cracked up Poppy.

Poppy’s little celebratory clap at Holly’s “Go big or go huge” is so cute

The TNP (tri-nitro-partypopper-een) pun is cute but

I hate the Glitter lore. I mean I can work around it. I’ve already got a few ideas (The Troll based glitter and the ground based glitter might be totally different things that are hard to differentiate by sight alone and act very similar, Glitter can be Troll based and they are basically using the Troll corpse equivalent of crude oil and Holly’s science isn’t right....) But the face that multiple someones looked at this and didn’t get an inkling of how messy this looks combined with the Glitter Troll lore is worrying

Ok but the TNP just making a whole ass mine with the sign and tracks pre built is pretty funny

Are they in Lonesome Flats or Country Corral? I’m assuming Country Corral, and that they are using the pools as indicators of where to mine because deposits in any mineral are all about location but it would be nice to know if they needed to go all the way back to Country territory or not

ok other kinds of trolls so assuming Country Corral

Is their hair glowing or is that an animation error? I mean we know the Pop Trolls can make their hair glow from mimicking fire from the first movie but this is important

Smidge’s “OHMYGOD” when the divining rod pulled her away absolutly shook me that’s so funny

(the divining rod irked me a little though. Country is getting piled on with stereotypes as jokes as apposed to lore and it’s starting to feel a little icky. There’s inspiration and then there “how many south jokes can we fit in this tribe?”

Fools glitter - it don’t stick to you’re skin for three days like it outa

As noted above, This is more indicative of crude oil. Which makes sense because South. But also insinuates that dug up glitter is indeed Troll corpses

I really appreciate Megan Hilty’s ability to keep a southern twang and try to Country up what is clearly a Pop song

Pfffft ok the loop-de-loop making the magma catch up with them is funny

Just thinking about the movies, and how magma/lava is already an established thing with it’s own look and texture that definitely wasn’t glitter

On a different note Poppy you aren’t allowed to examine you’re faults without addressing them it’s still appreciated though

That made no sense. Was that supposed to be water? It looked like more glitter, but they were out? and water doesn’t act like that.... I’m gonna assume it was water and leave it alone

The bull horns return tho!!!!

I figured they’d leave the hot magma rock alone until it cooled and process that logically but I’ll take a TNT joke

[ri-ahhh]

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

[bitter-sweet-coffee]

believing in nonexistent things isn't culture stop glorifying it

awe, anon! you don't seem to exist because you don't wanna make yourself known, but i'll glorify you anyways because i'm getting a bit tired of the femboy jesus lecture i'm in right now (the bit gets old)

so like, in order to define something as nonexistent, you have to be omniscient— if you know everything then you know what isn't real and can claim it doesn't exist.

to further illustrate this, let's say i ask someone how many prongs are on a fork. most would say four. if i told someone who has never set a table or used a fork in their life but know the vague concept of forks (and that they have four prongs) that there are three-prong forks, they'll claim they don't exist (never seen it, not educated enough on the topic, incapable of claiming something exists or not since they don't know cutlery)

see what i mean? humans aren't omniscient, so making bold claims that something doesn't exist requires total understanding of the universe (you can't logic your way to a conclusion on where spirits exist or not because logic is human-generated and thus just as susceptible to the limitations of our perspective)

this... is where faith comes from! religions, spiritualities, cults, atheists, scientists, philosophers, etc... we're all just trying to find a way to explain the unexplainable. "proving" something is self-admittedly impossible, which is why we keep collecting data and evidence and keep generating conversations and denominations and more questions while changing the scope of our biased limited lenses into something greater and more encompassing of our universe as it expands and all of this is so incredible!!! humans LOVE learning!!!

i think it's quite beautiful that at the root of each person there's a natural curiosity. we say or do things to see what happens and how people react. we make art and study visuals to see the effects it makes. we analyze media and attempt to rationalize universes outside of our own because maybe we can't explain how OUR world works, but figuring out the nuances of sonic retcons and how they fit together MIGHT be doable, so we talk about our blorbos on this gay fuckin site and ultimately create twin worlds and aus and crossovers and expand our fandom-conversational universe akin to our own reality.

even as i write this, i'm genuinely curious about you anon. not just who you are, but what your backstory is, what forms your beliefs, why you're so passionate about this topic, and how come you don't want to be known? if there's nothing shameful or falsified in your submission, i think you should take pride in it and not hide behind an undetectable barrier or burner account.

you mentioned the glorification of the nonexistent, which begs the question: what do you think exists? there must be an objective correct answer that can FINALLY relieve humanity of the itch it needs to scratch with universals. tell us!!! i'm not being sarcastic, i want to see if you can provide a clear-cut, non-debatable model of reality so that this discussion that many people (including myself) are a part of can finally rest. and also to put a few of my shitty ex-philosophy profs out of a job because they're cunts and i want them out of the field 🥴

TLDR: make yourself known and join the discussion! i never claimed to be omniscient so my ideas are thoughts or prompts for further conversation are just another voice, and yet you've picked up the torch to illuminate the truth and provide us all with some catharsis. speak on, anon! but uh, turn anon off i want to actually engage with you on a personal level because these types of conversation staters are fascinating to me :")