#just make your own shit at that point. take what you DID find appealing (the traits of character?) and remove & replace that racist context

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸

Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂

Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.

‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.

Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.

The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;

‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’

Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.

To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.

If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.

Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.

‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.

However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.

He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.

So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.

Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;

‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘

When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.

Damian;

‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’

He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.

He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.

Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.

He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.

However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.

[celestialsequels]

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes ¡! ❞

— synopsis: jimin takes you on a museum date.

— warnings: fluffy, a couple of kisses here and there, jimin and y/n being complete losers for each other.

— w/c: 1.7k

— part 1

a/n: guess who’s back from hiatus. thank you for being so supportive and considerate over the last few weeks as i was gone. this one is for you guys and i hope you guys enjoy it !

•

after being interrogated by yeonjun, you rushed home as fast as you could. every part of you jittered in utter excitement. the evening glow had began to radiate off of you ever so slightly as you thought back to the events that took place earlier—the way her lips felt on yours, the way she gazed into your eyes as if you were the last person on earth.

yeah, you were so done for.

your steps seemed to have their own rhythm as you walked home, all drowned in your thoughts. everything around you seemed so much happier. the people around you felt like they were more in love than ever. the murals painted on the buildings you walked past felt as if they were speaking to you. hell, even nature blushed when you smiled. you finally reached home and entered through the backdoor, since it always seemed to be open. you quickly took your shoes off, almost stumbling onto your cat, flipflop, as you made your way inside. you threw everything onto the ground and headed upstairs to your room to get dressed for your date.

hangers? on the ground. accessories? on the ground. your entire wardrobe? on the goddamn ground.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“jun, nothing looks good on me. i’m starting to think this date was a bust,” you pouted as yeonjun did nothing but laugh at you.

“maybe try that outfit you always say you’ll wear but never actually end up wearing,” he suggested when he sensed you had been silent for too long.

you ushered yourself to your pile of clothing that remained still on the ground for the past hour, simply hoping that something would begin to look appealing. suddenly, an idea popped into your head and you just knew this was going to be the outfit of a lifetime—okay, you were exaggerating, but at this point, it was better than nothing. yeonjun simply stared at you pacing around the room in what seemed like excitement but was, in fact, insanity. he had never seen you so eager yet so anxious about meeting a person; this was definitely something out of the ordinary. it made his heart swell with joy, finally seeing you so happy after so many years.

“you know, y/nnie, i’m really happy to see you all happy and chirpy after so many years. i never thought i’d see the day,” yeonjun spoke softly as you admired yourself in the mirror with a fond smile.

“jun…she truly makes me so happy. my worries seem lighter than a feather when she looks into my eyes. my soul feels lighter when she places her lips on mine. she makes me feel whole. god, i sound like a sap,” you chuckled at your own words as you realized that this girl was all you wanted.

“you are a sap, little shit–”,

before he could let out another word, you threw your half-eaten, almost-rotting pudding cup in his face.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it was nearly seven-thirty, and you only seemed to be getting more and more anxious. you started to ponder at what the future held for the two of you, thinking about nights when you two wouldn’t be able to sleep, so you’d spend it in the kitchen together, or when life might get a bit rough, and you’d find comfort within each others’ arms. the thought of living together made you blush a little harder than you would like to admit. the sudden ring of the door bell jolted you out of your thoughts, practically making you jump in front of the mirror to check if you looked perfect—and that you did, just oh so perfect. yeonjun’s snores seemed to emphasize as you made your way out of the room, not before kicking him in the shin as you ran to the front door.

“You—,”

his words zoned out as your blood rushing through your veins was the only thing you could pay attention to. you propped yourself in front of the door, giving yourself military-grade advice, but who were you kidding? not even a defibrillator could put your heart at ease. you peeked through the peephole of the door to make sure it was jimin. opening the door, and there she was. her hair flew in the crisp evening wind like the finest hazelnut spread. her eyes bore into yours as you finally opened the door after what felt like an eternity. a distinct silence fell between the two of you as your hearts soared with passion. the music playing from your ipod playing in the distance had you wanting to grab her hand and pull her as close to you as possible.

“pack it up, you two, i’ve gotta get in my beauty sleep,” yeonjun spoke up from behind you, scaring you two in the process.

“uh huh, okay,” you eyed him suspiciously since you knew damn well he wasn’t the type to sleep this early but chose not to say anything else.

“take good care of her jimin otherwise…” he threatened playfully while leaning against the wall.

“okay, hobbit,” jimin reached for your hand and pulled you out the door with her before giggling at her own joke.

adorable, you thought.

you two ran before you could hear him yell out anymore curses. soon, you heard the door shut and you two stopped running. Your entire body turned red as you realized you were gripping onto her hand for dear life. the crickets chirped from the nature surrounding you two. a calm yet fervent tension settled between you like an expecting nebula.

“you look so pretty tonight,” she broke the silence, mentally cursing herself for sounding like a loser.

“and you look all mine tonight,” your boldness surprising the two of you as the both of you turned into a giggling mess. of course, you two were losers in love, but you were each others’ losers, and that’s all that mattered.

after about half an hour of walking and flirting, you two finally reached the art museum. solace taking over you two as you floated in your little microcosm full of love. the lights shone down upon the entrance, colors displayed all over like an orchestra. mellow music could be heard from the speakers as you dragged jimin to the progress of love: the meeting. the viridian of the painting speaking directly to you while your eyes traced down the two lovers that sat patiently. jimin didn’t say a word given that you were so invested into the artwork, so she just let you tug her around the entirety of the museum. her eyes outlined your face whenever your eyes filled with sparks of interest at whatever you were looking at. her heartbeat intensified whenever you reached for her hand so she could pay attention to what you were saying.

“jimin, look, it's the lovers by rené magritte. i had to work on it for art class; it was fascinating—”

before you could say more, she eagerly pulled you in by the nape and placed her soft and succulent lips onto yours. all air was knocked out of your lungs as you still hadn’t gotten used to her lips being on yours, moving ever so fervently while her hands remained on your nape, gently playing with your hair. the lights in the museum suddenly dimmed, and the cold temperature of the room hastily became warmer. jimin’s fingers hovered across your arm, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. a few flower petals began to fall all around the room as you slowly pulled out of the kiss only to find jimin cheesing at you.

candles lit up right on time as she put her hand out for you to hold so she could show you exactly what she had in store for you. every part of you was radiated happiness. the entire museum fell into a soothing silence as jimin walked you outside into the garden. the entire garden was decorated with candles, with petals creating a walkway to the picnic she had prepared for you.

“jimin...is this all for me?” you questioned in surprise as you had never been treated so gently.

“pretty girl, everything i do is for you,” she turned a few shades redder when she saw you looking at her with the most admirable gaze. you smiled to yourself, realizing in the moment that this was the love of your life, whether you wanted to admit it or not. out of the blue, a small note sitting on the blanket caught your eye, causing you to curiously go examine it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“hi y/nnie…

i left you a polaroid camera

because i knew you would forget it at home.

go make memories with your future wife

- love jun”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“so, this is why yeonjun told me he was going to sleep early?” you chuckled in disbelief as you recalled back to how they were eyeing each other down earlier.

“mhm, i wasn’t gonna say anything but you know how he is,” jimin responded behind you.

“jiminie, i really want you to know how loved i felt with you tonight. i-i don’t think i’ve ever been treated so softly before. you’re my person and i want you to know that,” you admitted tearfully.

“baby, you’re my person too. i adore you too much to ever treat you wrong. i didn’t think you’d like the date this much, so i was slightly nervous,” she spoke to you, affectionately rubbing her thumb over your cheek.

“you are my favourite date,” you said before pressing your lips onto hers.

the lights of the museum had completely turned off, leaving you two all alone in the garden to make memories. candles swaying along with the zephyr of the night. the flowers serenading with the music that was once playing from your ipod at home.

you two were finally home.

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes…

[delusion-mostly]

Regina George x Reader

Part 1/32 (yeah I know, right?)

Warnings: angst if you squint, name calling, suggestive wording

I wrote this a while ago, if you think I need to add anything else for this one, lmk!

Word count: 1,265

"What the hell are you doing on my ice, George? The hockey team already released the team list, we can't accept anyone else. Either way, we don't like drama."

"Actually, I'm not on the ice," Regina gives you a dirty look, pointing at the fact that she is right outside the ice, not on it, "and ew, this does not sound appealing. You look like a fridge wearing a knockoff dollar-store sports jersey. This also looks a bit rough." she makes a gesture at your outfit, and size.

Well, she was right. The school had a small budget for the women's team, and you tower over her. Your shoulder pads add to the size, you really are built like a fridge at the moment.

"Then what are you here for? To call me another slur?" You take your helmet off and lean your head down on your stick, smirking, "here for a good time?"

Regina fake gags, "Absolutely no. Gross. Quit speaking," she gives another dirty look, "I saw the poster that you needed a manager for the team. I can't play any sports and everything is so fucking lame. I can at least see fights here." She shrugs

"And why do you of all people want to be involved in anything  that doesn't involve pretty pink glitter and being a massive bitch?" Putting emphasis in the 'B' in bitch, you poke Regina with your stick.

"If I didn't have to I wouldn't," she shoves the stick off of her shoulder, "but my therapist is making me. I can't let last year consume me, and I have to be helpful or whatever."

You look at the clock and put your helmet back on then glide across the ground, your skates leaving gashes in the ice. Regina stands by the opening into the rink, dumbfounded that someone had just walked away from her. The clock makes a loud buzzing noise and pucks fly into the net and scatter the ice around it.

"Well, George, you gotta work up the food chain here," you get a smug look on your face, "Practice is over! We don't have to get the pucks tonight. Our lovely new manager Miss Regina George will get it for us. Won't you?" you skate up to the blonde, whose eyes sit wide.

The team leaves to the locker room before leaving the building as Regina nods. She could not believe that someone had actually spoken to her like that. You ask her shoe size, go to the locker room, and come out with a pair of skates. They are blue and gold, and old. Like, really old looking. The blade is sharp but the leather is worn and creased. You intentionally grabbed the oldest pair that would fit her. Queen Bee George wouldn't own the ice like she did the rest of the school. You drop the skates in front of Regina.

"You expect me to know how the hell to put these on?"

"Are you ACTUALLY kidding me right now George?" You don't get an answer, so you sit down in front of Regina, "wow you aren't. I will do this one time, and one time only." You hold up a one on your hand and Regina nods.

You lace the skates while Regina complains about how tight they are, then you describe why they had to be so tight, she finds some way to complain about your reasoning too. You lead her on to the ice, she isn't an awful skater, although she falls once. You teach her how to collect the pucks by scooting the net around the ice, then take her to the locker room.

"I really need to get out of these clothes, but as the captain it's my job to tell you what your jobs are. So I hope you don't mind," You start taking off your jersey, "so basically you will make sure the locker room and ice stays clean. You'll scrape the ice, make sure it's clean and pretty, get our stuff on the bus for away games, basic shit." you peel the outer layers of your gear off.

"So I don't have to drive the zimbabwe or whatever?" Regina asks, relief washing over her as she looks at you.

"No you will not be driving a whole ass country, honey," You look dumbfounded, "The custodial staff or our coach are the only ones who operate the ZAMBONI. And quit looking. I can't tell if you're jealous or you want me." You smirk over at Regina as she quickly rotates her head away from your direction.

You finish changing, she glances over at you one more time while your back muscles flex, pulling a shirt over your head. You throw on a pair of faded jeans and a red flannel. You pull your phone out and hand it to Regina on the contacts page.

"This by no means is asking you to ever speak to me outside of anything hockey related, or even hockey related, actually. Never text me," you smile and take the phone back from Regina, "this is just so I can add you to the team group chat."

Regina is left speechless, she has never ever been disrespected like that.

"You literally just met me, what the fuck is your problem? I will not let my year be ruined by your rude ass." Regina scoffs.

"My problem, Regina, is that my name was in that little book of yours. Right next to the words 'body count higher than points scored' and 'hockey lez'," you sit and stare at Regina, "I do not want to talk to you outside of this sport, and I will talk to you as little as I can here. I appreciate that you are getting better and working on your behavior after last years events, but this does not change the fact that words are mean. It didn't hurt, but I don't make company with assholes."

You walk out to your car, a 2015 Subaru Forester. You don't notice Regina's highly recognizable Jeep in the parking lot, and see her walk out of the building. She keeps walking past the parking lot, sprinkles of rain splattering the ground around her. You are an asshole, but not that big of one. You speed out of the lot and pull up next to Regina, who is walking down the side walk with her hot pink hood over her head, and roll your window down.

"Why are you walking? It's raining and you have a nice Jeep. This is ridiculous George." You shout.

"I still don't trust myself driving alone after the accident in case my back locks up, I like the rain, I'm fine." Regina keeps her head forward.

"Are you sure? As captain it is my obligation to make sure everyone get's home safe."

"Oh my God, you have already said you hate me, would you MOVE ON you fucking lesbo." Regina yells.

"Great choice of words when you are trying to better yourself Regina." You clench your jaw, roll your window up, and speed off.

This was going to be one great year, you can just feel it.

[ficmashup]

Lifelines

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Alright, I think I've decided on eight parts for this. Or at least that's the limit I've set for myself, so it might be less. I like even numbers and ten just seems like too much. I might do little drabbles for G and the team later on, but these eight parts will be the end of the sequential story. Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Vague references to SA and PTSD just to cover my bases, crass language, sickening fluff.

Word Count: 4.5k

Feral Masterlist

It’s been three months since I joined TF141.

“I hate this fucking thing, fucking impossible, fucking piece of shit…” I’m elbow deep in a car engine in a valley, trying to fix the damn thing. Gaz is watching me and looks torn between being afraid of me or amused about the amount of cursing I’m doing. We just finished a mission and are waiting for the others to meet us here so we can drive to the exfil point. If I can get this damn car running, anyway.

“What are you planning to do on leave, G?” Gaz asks and I give him a pointed look. He raises his hands in surrender, smirking but wisely keeping his mouth shut. We’ll be on leave as soon as we get back to base and I might be a little…uneasy about it. I’ve finally settled into a pattern here and returning home to my empty apartment in a city I barely know doesn’t exactly appeal to me. “Hey, G?” Gaz calls again and I take a breath to cuss him out, but swallow every word I’m about to say when he holds up a tiny hard candy.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, my tone changing in an instant.

He grins, pulling the wrapper taut so it unwraps itself. “You’re not the only one who likes sugar, G. You want it?” I nod, pulling out a hand before frowning at seeing it smeared with oil and dirt. “Yeah, don’t think that’s going to work. Open up.” He holds the candy out and I hold out my tongue, humming happily as he slides it off the wrapper and onto my tongue. The flavor fills my mouth and my mood instantly lifts at tasting the sweet treat.

“What are you doing on leave, Gaz? And if you say ‘breaking hearts’, I’ll break your favorite fingers.” I go back to work, my steady hands replacing the part that broke with the replacement we luckily had on hand. My tongue tucks the hard candy into my cheek.

He chuckles. “Nah, I won’t break hearts this time. Some backs, maybe.” Amusement fills his warm brown eyes as I give him a deadpan look and I can only hold it for a second before smiling.

“You’re a menace.” I scold and his own smile grows.

“Haven’t gotten a complaint yet.”

“Yeah? You give out comment cards?”

“Sure do. Each one sprayed with a little cologne to keep their memories fresh.”

I snort. “Let me guess, the average is three stars out of five?” I raise a brow at him before smirking to myself at his outraged expression.

“You’re a cruel woman, G. Always strike for the heart.” He puts his hand over his chest as if I’d mortally wounded him. My head shakes as I finally make the connection I needed and I finally stand up straight, stretching and wiping away the sweat on my brow.

“You’re right, I’m being too charitable. It’s two stars, isn’t it?” His jaw drops and my smile only grows. “Can’t blame me for doubting you, Gaz. You couldn’t figure out where to plug in the hose to the car, how am I to expect you to know where to put anything else?”

“Fuckin’ hell, G. Just cut my balls off and be done with it.” But he’s grinning just like I am. I flick my chin towards the driver’s side as I step off to the side and grab a rag to wipe off some of the grime covering me.

“Try to start her up and see if it works. You do know where the key goes, yeah?” I tease and he gives me the middle finger while I chuckle. He slides into the car and as soon as he turns the key, the car starts. I breathe out a long sigh of relief and nod to him, shutting the hood and slapping it twice to make sure it’s secure. Gaz cuts the car off just as the others arrive and all eyes go to me and the mess that I’ve made of myself. “Car’s fixed.” I tell them the end result and look them over carefully for any injuries.

“Good to know.” Price says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Ten minutes, then we move out.” He spins a finger in the air before moving a bit closer to me and Gaz. “Did you just sit here and look pretty while G did the work, Garrick?” He asks and I hide my smile at the edge of humor in his voice.

Gaz shrugs a shoulder. “It is what I’m best at, Captain.” Price chuckles, shaking his head before looking at me with that little spark in his eyes that I’m growing to love seeing. I roll the candy to my other cheek and Price tracks the movement, smile widening a little.

“Clearly. She looks like she bathed in oil.” Ghost, always the one to be relied upon to be complimentary, says and I swear I see his nose scrunch under his mask.

“You’re welcome to walk back to base.” I respond lightly and wave away Soap’s attempts to wipe the oil off my face with a rag he just spit on.

Ghost steps towards me and I give him an extra thorough once over to make sure he’s not hiding anything. My eyes zero in on a rip on the outside of his left pantleg on his thigh. Red tinges the fabric. “But seriously, clean up before you get in the car or you’ll kill us all with fumes.” He comments gruffly, but with a hint of laughter in his voice.

“What’s that?” I ask immediately, taking Soap’s rag and wetting it with my canteen before wiping my hands as clean as I can get them. Ghost is quick to take a single step back as his mouth opens. “And you think long and hard about the wisdom of lying to me.” I bite at him before he can say a word and he gives me a heavy sigh, but I don’t back down when he stares at me.

“Just a graze.” He grumbles and I point to the ground, telling him to sit. Reluctantly, he sets his gear down before sitting in the dirt.

“Pants down.” I curl my fingers and give him a pointed look as he starts to roll his eyes. He shimmies them down enough for me to see the wound. It is just a graze. Not too deep, but something he should have reported. “Alright. You’re going to sit here and wait while I clean my hands, then you’re going to let me treat this. In return, I will not yell at you for keeping this to yourself.” I offer him a deal and we stare off for another few moments before he sighs again, then nods.

“No promises here.” Price says and gives Ghost a pointed look of his own which Ghost shrugs off. I scrub my hands and arms almost raw before disinfecting myself and walking back over to Ghost who has thankfully stayed put.

“Didn’t see any use in troubling you, G.” He says quietly as I meticulously clean the wound with my candy held between my teeth before it disintegrates. “Would’ve taken care of it when we got back to base.”

“You trying to make me obsolete, Ghost?” I ask softly, glancing at his eyes when he hesitates to answer and seeing the surprise on his half-hidden face behind the mask. “Because this is my job. Which means by definition, this isn’t troubling me, it’s letting me do my fucking job. And Soap came to me last week with a paper cut, so never feel like your injuries are too small for me to treat.”

“It was fucking between my fingers! Hurt like a bitch!” Soap objects from the car while Gaz grins next to him and pats his shoulder in consolation. Price is leaning against the side of the jeep, watching us while slowly smoking one of his favored cigars.

Ghost hums and I can see the thoughts behind his eyes as he thinks on it. “You want me to come see you when I get a papercut?” He asks while I begin wrapping the wound, just to keep it clean while we’re traveling.

“I want you to lean on me.” I respond softly, well aware of what I’m asking of him. “When you’re injured or sick, trust me to do my job and take care of you.” My fingers are ginger as they finish the wrappings, but I stay kneeling next to him as I meet his gaze. He’s silent for a little bit, considering as he usually does, before he nods once.

“I’ll work on it.” The response isn’t out of the ordinary for him and usually means no, but his tone is softer this time. I’ll take it.

I nod and stand while he straightens himself out too. “Good. I’m going to give you a list of how to care for that and you’re going to send me a picture of it every day while we’re on leave.” My gaze turns sharp and this time he doesn’t bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Just come check on it yourself, G. Your flat isn’t far from mine.” He offers and I blink at him while he stands, his hand sliding over the small rip in his pants with a frown. “I’ll take you for tea in that place I told you about.” His gaze lifts to mine and I struggle to hide what the offer means to me, how he’s offered a lifeline that I’ll cling to during leave.

“Deal. But I don’t want to hear a fucking thing about the amount of sugar I put in.”

He groans, but I see his mask twitch with a smile. “Gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

I smirk at him. “More likely to be shot before my heart gives out.” He adjusts his gloves on his hands while shaking his head and we head over to the car with everyone else.

“G, come ‘ere.” Price curls his fingers and I walk over to him as he folds a piece of cloth into a square. “Your face is still covered in muck.” He offers me the damp cloth and I take it with a grateful nod, scrubbing my face quickly before looking back at him for a once over. He chuckles and the sound makes my skin tingle and my stance lax. If I could bottle it, I’m positive the sound would be gold as sunlight.

“I didn’t get it all, did I?”

“Yeah, not quite.”

I huff, folding the cloth before handing it to him. “I’m not going to get all of it because I can’t see. Forget it.”

Price straightens from his spot leaning against the car and takes half a step towards me, eyes on mine to check in as his fingers lift to hold my chin. “I’ve got it. Had to do this to Gaz when he faceplanted in the mud.” He waits as the surprise leaves my eyes and I give him a slight nod before gently using the cloth to clean my face.

“Yeah, I recall you shoving a rag in my face and scrubbing it like trying to get burnt cheese off a pan.” Gaz grumbles and the corner of my mouth twitches at the discontent in his voice, but I’m a little too taken with what Price is doing to focus on anything else. I’ve seen these hands gut a man like a fish with a knife the size of my forearm. Now, they’re gentle and firm as he wipes the cloth over my brow, across my jaw, dabbing at my cheek, then slides it down my nose while my lips twitch as it tickles.

I’m silent as he works and I take the time to look over Price’s face. I can see the pores of his skin, the individual hairs of his beard, the way the light hits his eyes and makes them seem a shade lighter. It’s nice…being tended to like this. Price finishes and turns my head back and forth a little while I swallow. “Verdict?” The words are supposed to be teasing, but it comes out a bit breathless.

Price’s eyes meet mine and his thumb slides back and forth over my chin a moment before he nods. “Fit.” He responds quietly before stepping back and we both look away. I’m a bit unsteady within my own mind and I’m happy to load the car when Price calls for it. I’m not sure what just happened, what just passed between him and I, but maybe going on leave isn’t such a bad thing after all. If only to get a little distance.

*     *     *

I’m itchy in the city.

Leave started a few days ago and I’m already irritated with civilian life. London is bustling as always and all the sounds and people have me taking a deep breath every minute just to keep calm. I keep walking, repeating the address in my head before the sign enters my sight and my shoulders lax a fraction. My steps are strong and sure as I make a beeline for the door before stepping in and surveying the shop. People mill about, some sitting down in the small café, and my next deep breath brings the scent of fresh coffee, tea, and pastries into my lungs. The familiarity among the unfamiliar settles me a bit more.

My eyes look towards the tables that are in clear view of the door, both front and back, and my gaze zeros in on a figure sitting at a table with the barest sliver of shadows across it. Naturally, he’d find the one place where there’s a shadow. I walk towards him with purpose and I get the privilege of actually seeing the corner of his mouth lift, rather than the little twitch of his mask. “How’s the wound, Simon?”

He chuckles and I can’t help smiling at getting to see the emotion on his unmasked face. It’s a show of trust that not many earn. “Isn’t that what you’re here to tell me?”

“Figured I’d trust your word while we have a cup. Unless you’d like to take a trip to the back so you can drop your pants?” I dare and he shakes his head, a real smile tugging on his lips.

“Wound’s fine. Barely twinges.” He answers as we settle across from one another at the table. We’re both angled slightly, me towards the back door behind him and him towards the front door behind me. Old habits die hard.

“Alright, tell me which swill is your least favorite and that’ll be the one I’ll get.” I tease, already feeling a little lighter being around a friend. He gives me a look, but silently points out rose tea on the menu. I raise a brow at him and he waves a hand at me, telling me to shut up before I can say anything. We order and I silently judge him for getting black tea, why not just get coffee, then stare down at the milky pink of my tea.

“Won’t bite you.” Simon says amusedly, his voice deep as he drinks his own tea. My fingers perch on either side of the cup as I try a sip. It’s sweet and floral. Not at all the type of drink that I would think Ghost would try, but my lips press together to keep in a wide smile as I realize I like it. “Thoughts?” He says and he already sounds smug.

I sigh, letting myself smile. “I love it.”

He chuckles. “Don’t sound too excited about it, G.”

“Means I have to put up with you being right.”

“Should be used to it. Happens all the time.”

“Some of the time.” I correct, smirking as he doesn’t combat me this time. “What are your plans this leave?” I ask as I take another sip of my sweet tea and Simon shrugs a shoulder while his legs stretch out a bit more under the table.

“No plans. Sit on my ass for a while without being bothered.” He says simply and my head shakes as I tap the pad of my finger against the edge of my cup. He sounds like an old man, but I’d be lying if I said that my plans were any different. But after being out with him today, the image of me sitting alone in my flat feels less peaceful and more…lonely. He quirks a brow at me as I look at him, but he lets me think before voicing my thoughts.

“If that’s your plan, then come out with me today. Sit on your ass tomorrow.” I offer, leaning my elbow on the table as I look over at him. His eyebrows raise and I think I see pleasant surprise flit through his eyes.

He copies my position and leans forward a bit. “Yeah? What are you doing today?”

My smile turns a little sheepish. “Grocery shopping?”

He chuckles, nodding as he finishes his cup of tea. “Alright, G. Let me judge what you fill your pantry with. Bet it’s all sugar.” I finish my cup as well and shoot a longing look at the tea leaves they have for sale. I make a mental note to come back and get a bag of rose tea for myself sometime. We head out and I tug my jacket tighter around me as a cool breeze greets us. It’ll be Winter soon.

“Yeah, and what do you buy? Fuckin oats?” I bat back and this time I get a little bit of a bigger laugh. The sound makes me grin and this time, as we walk through the city and we’re sure to keep within a handsbreadth of one another, I feel steady.

*     *     *

A week passes. Simon and I settle in a routine of meeting every other day either for tea or to go with the other on a meaningless errand. It helps make mundane life feel more…normal. We both relax knowing we have someone else to watch our backs. There’s a week left of leave and when I enter the little tea shop to meet Simon, I’m surprised by another guest.

“Price.” I greet him warmly, a little thrown off at how pleased I am to see him. He takes my hand and shakes it, then pulls me in for a hug. I breathe him in as my free hand slides over his back and my head rests briefly against his hard chest.

“Good to see you.” His arm tightens around me before we pull back and look each other over. He looks good in civilian clothes. I’ve seen him like this before, of course, when we went out to drink with the team. Somehow, this is different. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t seen him in a week. “And I prefer John when we’re on leave, if you don’t mind.” He says and I can’t help smiling softly at the sound of his voice. He coughs a little and I track the sound and pinching of his expression before his expression smooths. We stay close, standing barely half a foot apart while Simon stands opposite me across the table.

“John.” I correct and see the corner of his eyes crinkle at the sound of his first name from my mouth. “It’s good to see you too. I wasn’t expecting you.” My gaze cuts to Simon who smirks as the three of us sit down.

“Didn’t know he was going to be here till an hour ago. Figured I’d surprise you.” Simon says as he settles in his usual place and I in mine, Price sitting beside me on the right. “Besides, Price goes a little stir crazy when the four of us are out of sight for too long. Like leaving kids in the other room and things go a little too quiet.” I grin and Price chuckles.

“Already checked in with Soap to make sure he hasn’t blown anything up and Gaz spared me an hour before he had to run off for a date. You were the next stop.” He tilts his head towards Simon before looking towards me. “Hadn’t quite figured out a way to check in on you without being obvious, so this worked in my favor.”

The corner of my mouth lifts even as Price coughs quietly again. “You could just ask me for coffee and I wouldn’t have thought anything of it.” Not completely true. I would’ve obsessed about the meeting and what it might be about until it happened, but now I know what his intentions are, my answer is true for any future attempts he might make. “Although, am I to take it that you checked in on us last because you trust us to cause the least amount of trouble?” I tease, smirking at Simon with the knowledge that since I was last, that means I cause the least amount of trouble.

He quirks a brow in return as if to say that isn’t saying much. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him. “More about the likelihood and type of trouble caused, but whatever makes you happy.” Price teases back and I lightly kick his shoe under the table for spoiling my fun. A server comes by and drops off three cups in front of us. Warm affection fills me as I pull the mug into my hands and soak in the warmth as I see the familiar pink of my favored rose tea. Simon must have ordered for us.

I peek over at Price’s cup and see a light amber. Surprise flits through me. I’d pegged him for a black tea man like Simon, despite how much I make fun of him for it. “It’s lemon. Only place that brews it right and makes a nice change from the usual.” Price tells me when he sees me looking and lifts the cup towards me. I lean in, steadying the cup with my hand even though he doesn’t let go of it as I take a sip. The slight zing hits my tongue first and my eyes widen a touch before the taste is soothed by a slight earthy bitterness not unlike tobacco.

“Mm. Suits you.” I say with a nod, relaxing back into my chair and offering my cup to him as an exchange before he holds up a hand with a shake of his head.

“Can’t handle that sweet stuff. Figures you’d like it, though.” He says with a slight smile and my heart beats a little funny as he takes a sip of his tea, putting his lips exactly where mine were while holding my gaze over the cup.

I shift in my seat, swallowing before breaking away and glancing at Simon while my skin gets a little hot. “We’re both predictable, then.”

Price makes a soft, disapproving noise that makes my head swing back towards him. “I’d like to think we just know each other.” He tempts a small smile onto my face and I nod once, allowing the amendment. We both look back over to Simon and while his expression is smooth, his eyes are twinkling with…something.

“Technically, Simon ordered so he knows us best. Softie.” I nudge his foot under the table and his gaze drops while he hides his smile behind his cup. The three of us talk for a while and finish our drinks before Simon comes up with a very suspicious reason to leave that I don’t buy for a second.

“Take Price to the shops with you, G.” He suggests as we file out of the tea shop out into the chilly air. My eyes widen at the suggestion and he can’t hide his smirk fast enough. Simon turns to Price while barely hiding a smug grin. “Maybe you can keep her from rottin’ her teeth with sugar.” Price turns to me, laughter in his eyes, but my focus is on Simon.

“You fucking loved that cereal I got, I saw you eating it when you were at my place and I know you have a box in your cabinet. You hide it behind your stupid packages of jerky.” I call him out, pointing at him accusingly. His brows raise.

“At least they have fuckin’ protein. All you’re getting are cavities.”

“Sorry, didn’t know you were actually the medic here.”

Simon opens his mouth, but Price cuts him off with a small pat to his chest. “As productive as this is, I think we all have places to be. Till next time, Simon.” They shake hands while I give Simon a pointed look that he smirks at before we part ways. Price and I walk down the street side by side in the opposite direction. “He’s told me about the trips you two have been making. It’s been good for him.”

I smile, pulling my sweater tighter around myself. “It’s been good for me too. Civilian life never seemed to…fit right after a deployment. Like that was my real life and this was an uncomfortable dream. Merging the two has helped.” Even walking down the street now with Price makes the world seem more concrete under my feet, the noise of people around us less grating, the breeze less chilling.

“That’s good to hear.” Price’s voice rumbles and his eyes are soft as he looks at me. “I wouldn’t mind going with you this time, if you’d have me.” Surprise flits through me, but I can’t keep myself from smiling.

“Of course, I’ll have you. I’d love the company.” People slide by and I automatically slide my hand into the crook of Price’s elbow to keep us close. His hand slides onto mine and I look up at him as he lets out a small huff.

“You’re freezing.” He pulls us aside and shrugs off his coat while my eyes go wide. Gingerly, he wraps his jacket around my shoulders and tugs it snug around me while the warmth leftover from his body sinks into me like an embrace.

“John, it’s too cold for you to go without a coat.” I scold, but my voice lacks any sharpness or heat. All he has on now is an olive long-sleeved shirt that looks very good on him and jeans.

His eyes crinkle at the sides again as his fingers keep tugging lightly on his jacket, making sure it’s secure. “It’s alright, I run hot anyway.” He assures me and I frown slightly, really looking him over while my mind races. His cheeks are a little pink, but not his nose or ears. Flushed then, not from the chilly breeze winding around us.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But only because I run cold and the shop isn’t far from here.” My hand wraps back around his elbow and I notice how hot his skin is, even through the fabric of his shirt.

Price chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.” His hand automatically slides back over mine as we start walking again. The feeling of his calluses against my skin makes my brain short-circuit and I falter in my inspection of him. I realize with a start that this is the first time we’ve really been alone with no danger of interruption by a mission, a teammate, or anyone else. The thought makes my heart beat funnily again and I start rethinking this.

Maybe being alone with him like this…isn’t a good idea.

Taglist (hello, darlings, thank you for reading as always. <3 If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk!):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes

[channelinglament]

ok but hear me out- self aware niigo??

Sorry for being gone for so long heh ^^;

Tw: mention of drugs, possible ooc, yandere themes, mention of stalking

Paranoia

- Paranoia is thinking and feeling like you are being threatened in some way, even if there is no evidence, or very little evidence, that you are.

Ft. Self-Aware Niigo

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☆

"What is happening?" - A sigh escaped your lips, as you tried restarting your device again. It has been happening several times throughout this months.

After finishing yet another Niigo event, you found out more about Mafuyu's situation. The way her mother treated her infuriated you. And just like everyone in the fandom, you wished Mafumom's death. Of course, you cursed her out in your own kinda way, right infront of the characters. "Who enters their kid's room, finds a synthesizer and treats it as if you saw your kid doing drugs??" a growl escaped your lips. "Seriously, Mafuyu's mom is the worst". And then you closed the app, to cool off.

----

Existentional crisis isn't something that was on girls' list. Hearing voices in your head and guidance during singing and stuff isn't normal after all. Was it insanity perhaps?

They were wary of you

None of them talked about...for a while. They noticed that the...guidance they were receiving from the voice also made their relationships better.(friendship lvl) Why? Perhaps all you really want is to help them. At some point, Vocaloids got then to sit down together in empty sekai and talk about the strange voice. Vocaloids know you, the player.

After hearing out question, asked by Meiko and Luka, they had collectively started loosing their shit.

...all they went through...was just.. a game? Nothing? Just entertainment?

Why were you helping them then?

.

.

And so, certain someone from another group hacked your camera.

.

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Mafuyu honestly didn't know how to feel. Fist clenched, she tried to keep her tears from falling. No, she didn't blame you.

How could she blame you?

After all, all you want is to help them. Yes, this is all. You want nothing in return. They may be game characters, but they could feel your love. Purple-head is sure that others feel the same way.

It's okay, niigo can share. Kinda. But others?

Mafuyu loves watching your expression (and if you talk/sing along then listen to you). She doesn't do much else. Her face softens up, shoulders become less tense as she observes you. Ah, aren't you an angel?

She started working on her vocals more, so your attention would stay on her in every song. She wants your attention and affection. Please give it to her, look only at her, listen only to her

She loves it when you pick clothes for her, she tried to stay away from anything that could damage them or get them stained.

.

.

Our pink-head was so happy certain guy hacked your phone camera and mic!

They could hear your voice, and see your expressions. Ah, the way your eyes lit up when you did helped them (fullcombo/all perfect)! You seem to really like their singing and dancing.

Mizuki will try to make group's visuals even more appealing. Their MVs are already awesome, but Mizuki will try even harder. Better, they should be better. What if MV isn't good enough? No, they don't want you to take your eyes off of them. They must make every second of MV stunning.

Tbh, all of the girls love watching you (other groups too). But compared to others, they do it more often. Much more often. They watch you sleep

Mizuki hummed in content, as you were choosing another outfit for them. Your face is so focused while you observe them, ah, you're just so cute! If they could only pinch your cheeks! Mizuki would love to go to shopping with you and Ena. For now, Mizuki will wear anything you gave them proudly.

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In the middle of the night, an artist was making yet another masterpiece in her dim lit room. Digital and traditional art. A lot of it. There were some scrambles papers and tossed canvases on the ground. But aside from that, room was fully covered in drawings of one particular person. You

You were her muse. Ena couldn't stop drawing you. You're an embodiment of perfection. No one stood close to you. No one

Ena spends days and nights in her room trying to get your face right. Her drawings were good, but not perfect. She couldn't get your face just quite right. Something was...missing. *sigh* if only you were here with her for real, then it would've been so much easier! It's alright. She is content with being to see you (at least for now).

She observes you more than the others. To draw, and to just take in all of your beauty

Similarily to Mizuki, she wore everything you gave her proudly. Maybe even showed off a little. Every dance, every song, she kept thinking about you, about how you would guide her and help her to get better. Your love, your support....

"Is this like drugs?"

"It's better than drugs Akito"

"I know but still-"

.

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....It is her third cup of noodles

Kanade tried to write more songs, thinking about you. She loves your smile. It is already past midnight, and yet, here she sits. Infront of her computer, composing music and writing songs. If her songs make you happy, then she will try to write even more.

Kanade has a savior complex, and wants to make everyone happy. You, being the most important person, deserve the most happiness. If you talk about your troubles, or have a sad expression, Kanade will try to make a song to make you feel better. Relatable song, happy song, you name it. Only you will be able to acces this songs, and no one else. They were written for you after all.

Teenager, eating her now forth cup of noodles, thinks of what kind of melodie should be next. She can't help but think of how comforted you would be by her song. Er..their song. She wants Niigo to be your favorite group.

Tired blue eyes skimming from her computer towards her bed. Girl faintly remembers you mentioning something about taking care of her health. She's tired, she can't remember it fully. Perhaps she needs to take a break. Yeah, she can continue once she wakes up.

Kanade enjoys any time you spend with her and any attention you give her. She likes your outfits, but she feels bad sometimes. I mean, she doesn't come out of her room that often, so you probably shouldn't bother, no? Yet, she is very happy that you decided to give her something this gorgeous. She feels some confidence boost when she is in them.

Kanade watches you during her writing hours. Just seeing your face makes her motivated for a new song.

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You swear it's not paranoia, but you always feel like you are being watched

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

I mean yeah voice actors voices are hot but also like in appearance

Corey Burton is a cutie

You know what, that's valid

You must go on a vision quest to see what the MCU is blind to (and by that I mean go find one (1) weird indie movie youve never heard of and watch the whole thing). Then you will be cleaned of your corporate media sins (/lh)

Oh good, I get to talk about this dumbass show (beloved)

RiD 01 as a whole is a SILLY fuckin show. Like they took the sillygoofy nature of g1 and went "bet," then cranked it 10 times higher. G1 still had its somber moments. Character work. Genuinely threatening and downright cruel villains. RiD 01 has occasional complex characters, but 90% of the time, this show is a fairly low-stakes comedy that's going full camp.

The autobots are dysfunctional and just straight up weird. Three of them are brothers, and it's not a trio anyone would EVER expect. Prowl is a fucking narc. Brawn is here but he's named X-Brawn bc I guess he had to get that Xtreme rebrand for the 2000s. He's also closer to Ironhide than anything, complete with the Texas accent. Their other brother is named Sideburn, he's the bumblebee equivalent as the Designated Kid Appeal Character, but he's also, and I shit you not, a sex pest about red sports cars. Not just bots with sports car alts. Any red sports car. He will drop everything to go chase a sexy red car and he catcalls it the whole time. The TFA constructicons have NOTHING on this guy. He gets so aggressively horny on main his narc-ass cop brother has to arrest him for it.

Optimus is here, and he's got his own family trouble. He has a brother too, and it's fucking Ultra Magnus. Magnus hates his guts because OP got chosen as Autobot leader and he didn't. At one point they find a cache of blank protoforms, Megatron gets to it first, and has one of them scan both himself and Optimus when he comes online, which results in Scourge, my lameass emo boyfriend i was defending through the whole Scourge War. He's literally just, like, Their Kid and he fucking hates his autobot dad so he lives with Megatron instead to try and make him proud of how Evil and Competent he is.

Megatron has like. Too many altmodes. Just too many. One of them sort of kind of counts as a sports car, that is partially red, Sideburn gets horny about it. Finding out it was Megatron did not stop him for asking for a date. Canon bisexual before IDW, even in the English dub.

The main villains serving Megatron are the predacons and they're about as threatening as team rocket and roughly half as competent. One of them is a squirrel voiced by Steve Blum. The second in command is SkyByte and he's so fucking bad at being evil. He writes poetry (which Optimus roasts the shit out of). He takes online personality quizzes and then gets legitimately upset if he doesn't get the results he wants. This was the plot of an entire episode. He has a crush on Megatron and fantasizes about doing a good job for him. He doesn't like scourge because he thinks he's Meg's new favorite. He does circus tricks on command. He has a soft spot for kids and he was so nice to them while actively trying to be evil that he ended up with a fanbase in-universe that followed him around and encouraged him to be a good guy. He is the EPITOME of a skrunkly little loser boyfailure AND he's a shark. What more could you ask for.

This is not even a quarter of the insane shit that happens in this show. It has NO chill, ever. If you want to see pure, unbridled chaos from robots that are usually at least a little more serious and intense, I literally cannot rec it enough. A lot of hot robots too, tbh. The things id do to Midnight Express...

Beeussy

[asteria7fics]

I am absolutely in the mood to read an essay about Kyle's portrayal in fanwork 👀 i could read South Park analysis till the cows come home

Alright alright I’m ready to get into this haha.

A couple of things before I start, everything I’m about to say is just my opinion, yeah? I’m no expert, I just think that the way the fandom treats Kyle in a lot of circumstances is… questionable :)

Oookay, let’s GO!

So believe it or not, I don’t actually read a ton of fanfiction. I don’t really have time these days, and when I do I’m so painfully picky about the way certain characters are portrayed that it’s very hard for me to find fics I really vibe with. That being said, I see a lotta shit on this fine website.

Let’s get the obvious shit out of the way. I do not think Kyle should be the default bottom in ANY ship. If we wanna really get into it, my personal take is that this is a holdover from yaoi/fujoshi culture that is so painfully steeped in heteronormative bullshit of one person needing to be the ‘dominant’ and one needing to be the ‘submissive’ even outside of the context of kink. Essentially, one character has to be the ‘girl’ and one has to be the ‘boy’, even in a homosexual relationship.

I’ve blabbed about this before, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about why I don’t think that Kyle should be the default ‘submissive’ in his relationships.

First of all, Kyle is just not submissive. At all. Or I should say, he isn’t often. I think the only context where he tends to submit is with his mother, and if you really want to sit here and defend your choice based on him having ‘mommy issues’, I guess you can technically say that.

Personally, I see Kyle as being very headstrong and, honestly kinda intense. While this hasn’t always been super consistent in his personality early on in the show’s run, it’s certainly has been now. I mean, he was willing to shoot at his friends’ moms in The End of Obesity because he believed so strongly in what he was doing, and why he was doing it. Kyle’s stubbornness and unwillingness to waver on his morals and values is a driving force for conflict in the show, like, all the fucking time, whether he’s correct (as in, the creators agree with his stance) or not.

I bring up his personality in the early run because I do think a lot of the issues I have with his characterization now comes more from early fandom portrayals than anything that’s actually currently supported by the source material. As an example, Kyle being the weakest physically of the main four makes a lot of sense in the context of those early seasons, but it doesn’t really work with his current characterization, if I’m being honest.

This isn’t to say I dislike him being sickly, mind you. I actually think that can be really compelling if Kyle has to grapple with the fact that his physical weakness is at odds with his mental strength.

Hoooowever, I think this has to be done in a really specific way, and this sorta brings me to my next point.

Why are we out here victimizing Kyle so damn much? Like, I get it, bad shit happens to him in the show (don’t talk to me about Humancentipad) but why are we just tormenting Kyle for seemingly no reason? Are we in the middle of a dead dove arms race?

I do think this ties back to this idea of Kyle being a default submissive, and I’ve certainly not always been kind to the kid in my own work but damn you guys are fucking mean to him. What did he ever do to you??

I suppose tormenting characters is sort of… par for the course in any fandom, but man I just don’t see the appeal of it being Kyle that’s getting the brunt of the abuse, especially when he ends up being reduced to a helpless, pathetic little thing. Like at that point just pick a different character, I mean Butters is right there you guys.

I’m not going to act like any one ship leans more or less into these tropes either, I think all sides of the fandom are guilty of disregarding a lot of what makes Kyle’s character compelling in the show. I will, however, take a moment to complain about some of the popular ships that Kyle is in.

Kyman: You know how I feel about these two. A stellar dynamic with so much problematic shit bubbling under the surface. Let’s disregard the inherent discomfort around an open anti-Semite and a Jewish person being together because… I willingly ignore that to ship Yentlman in my main works (rip self read). Even without that bit of their relationship, these two are just too goddamn similar. Both stubborn, both going to extreme lengths to prove the other wrong, OR enabling one another to do some pretty shitty things.

I think Post Covid did it best by showing how they BOTH bring out the worst in one another. While I enjoy these two platonically, I don’t personally enjoy romantic ships that are this toxic.

I’ve also expressed before that I think a fic lives and dies on how Cartman is written, so while this post is about Kyle’s depictions in fan works, I do think we have to consider the way the other half of a pair is written as well.

I got some really lovely tags on that one post I reblogged and word vomited all over that brought up how Cartman, supported by canon, is a severely traumatized individual, and how that can support a more sympathetic view of him (I’m not tagging the person in case they don’t want to be involved in discourse like this but I appreciate your insights and you made a very good point, if you are reading this).

This does, however, bring up a whole other host of issues with their dynamic. If we’re romanticizing the idea that Kyle is some kind of moral savior for Cartman then… man, idk. You guys are gonna have to help me on this one, is that common in the ship? Is Kyle playing therapist with Cartman, and that’s how we’re justifying sanitizing him?

Also, say it with me now, there is no way in sand hell that Kyle would let Cartman top him. I know, I’ve read it, and I can see where the idea is coming from but come on. Kyle is too prideful for that shit. Now if y’all start giving me Kyle topping Cartman and making him fucking beg for that hot Jew sploog then MAYBE I’d be able to get behind this ship.

Style: Oh you thought my preferred ship was safe? Haha no ma’am, because Style shippers are the fucking WORST when it comes to feminizing Kyle.

I respect the Style shippers that came before me with their football star Stan and pissbaby twink Kyle, I really do. However it’s time to move on. I made this point in a previous post (that I know you’ve seen my friend, much love for your support on my hot takes) but for those who didn’t see it, I really believe the thing that separates Kyman shippers from Style shippers is that Kyman shippers tend to treat Kyle like an equal to Cartman, while Style shippers really lean on Kyle being weaker than Stan to make their dynamics work.

What’s really funny to me is that what I think makes Style work in its best iterations is when they are truly treated as equals, because they absolutely should be.

Now I may sound like a hypocrite here because I know I play around with power dynamics in my Styles quite a bit, but I think I make it very clear that even when Kyle is technically bottoming, he is not necessarily submitting.

I also can give credit where credit is due, Kyman shippers do not shy away from how much of an asshole Kyle can be sometimes. Style shippers though? Man, I understand wanting to lean more on Kyle's positive traits (he IS a very empathetic, friendly, driven person that always wants to do the right thing) but he can become 'too good' very quickly when you don't balance those things out with his negative traits.

Kyle is pretentious. Kyle thinks he knows best even when he really doesn't. Kyle is quick to anger and sometimes cares TOO much, to the point of getting carried away and making things worse (rip to Canada).

The only negative trait Style shippers are pretty consistently on board with is him being hotheaded, which is fair! But also? To stay consistent with my current branding, that's like seasoning all of your food with just salt and pepper. Like sure, it adds flavor, but we all know the dish could taste so much better if you sprinkle on a little something more.

K2: I am... Utterly indifferent to this ship. Like, I've seen some cute fanart? But I've never partaken and it doesn't really interest me, sorry gang.

Cryle: Another ship I've never really partaken in, but that makes significantly less sense to me. It's giving crack ship, which is fine? But from what I have consumed a lot of people sort of approach them with all the worst aspects of both Kyman and Style. Craig is not as compelling as Cartman as a foil for Kyle, so when people do lean into the evil Craig headcanon that was common in early fandom, it seems they also lean into the pathetic, victim Kyle tropes that are common in Style works.

I'm sorry if y'all love this ship, I'd never really paid it any mind until recently and while I have read works that included them that I thoroughly enjoyed, I don't think I'll ever root for them to be endgame.

And if your favorite Kyle ship isn't here, sorry to say I don't know enough to speak on them (in fact I shouldn't have even brought up K2 for that reason, but I figured someone would probably mention it since it seems pretty popular).

Look, this is a mess and I am certainly not the authority on characterizing any of these goobers. But you asked, and I hope you enjoyed my silly little opinions. This is in no way meant to be constructive, but if you guys want something more organized and constructive breaking down how I characterize Kyle or any of the kids, you know where to ask!

[fuckmymunson]

I saw this an immediately thought of remus smut prompt 16- “I wont apologize for marking you up, everyone should know your taken”

Brrrr, possessive Remus <3, Brrrrr.

18+, smut! Dom!Remus(kinda), dirty talk!, fingering, possessive (not under)tones, blood? not much or whatever (he just bites too hard), Remus having a big cock cuz I can, mwah.

︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ʚ♡ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Remus wasn't a big fan of hickeys, or scratches, or bitemarks... He actually used to find them petty, or at some point disgusting. He was already used to seeing them all over his body, and for him, those were more than enough.

Remus used to roll his eyes every time Sirius walked in with a proud smirk and a red and purplish necklace on his pale neck, he would proudly show all the scratches on his back and chest, calling them "war scars", James saw it funny and slapped his back with joy. He would ask Sirius to keep his "war scars" to himself, nobody wants to see that shit.

He just never saw the appeal for it.

That is, until he really felt the urge to do it.

It would be easier to blame it on the full moon, and maybe that was the reason behind it all. On those days when he was feeling more... territorial. He knew you weren't intentionally flirting with that guy, you were just being nice like you always were! Just a big, ray of sunshine. But still... he was really close to you, and he reeked of cheap man's cologne... And Remus hated that.

He hated how that scent lingered around you.

And he had to do something about it.

He cornered you in an empty classroom, holding your hips against the wall as he kissed you, rubbing his hard-on against your bare thigh. His hand slid under your skirt, circling your clit and basically shoving his tongue in your throat to shut you.

"Take off your blouse, now" He growled against your lips, in that deep voice that made you clench around nothing.

Your clumsy fingers undid the buttons at record speed, just in time for him to flip you and press you against the cold stone wall. Remus used to fingers to stretch you wide and good for him, already knowing you had a rough time taking his massive cock.

Now, he doesn't exactly know what possessed him, but you were grateful it did. His face was on your neck when he briefly recognized the faint scent of that cologne, and he saw red.

"R—Remus!" You whined, it was the first time he ever did that.

His teeth sank into the curve of your neck, out of the blue. You moaned in both surprise and pleasure, just in time for him to curve his fingers inside you. Remus continued to lick and bite your neck, sucking the supple flesh eagerly. A trail of saliva connected his lips and your shoulder, making him pant heavily.

"I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you are t—taken” He replied, smirking against your skin.

It looked... really good.

His cock twitched inside his trousers at the sight, and it planted the seed inside his little heart. Remus' hands fidgeted with the buckle but soon he was free and ready to split your sweet, wet pussy in half.

His hands grip your thighs harshly, and the so—needed—nail trim was quickly forgotten when his long nails scratched your thighs, leaving swollen, perfect grooves. His hips snapped against yours as you moaned loudly, feeling his cock piercing your pussy and rearranging your fucking stomach.

One of his hands covered your mouth, in case someone walked near. Remus's lips ghosted over your ear shell, chuckling breathlessly at your needy whines. "Let the whole world know who owns you, whore"

And with that, his teeth sank one last time on your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. The pain was too much but it crashed in the middle of your orgasm, magnifying it to the skies. Remus licked the tiny crimson dots on your shoulder, feeling (not so) guilty.

"Sorry, went to harsh" He whispered in your ear, rubbing your sides soothingly.

"Not a problem" You chuckled, panting as well. Turning your head to meet his lips in a sweet kiss.

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter One

Chapter Two: …And Into the Mist

“So, what’s next?” Luke asked, looking to Katherine in the driver’s seat of the stolen Camaro. “Now that I’m officially an accessory?”

“Aw, you’re being modest,” Katherine joked. “Without you, who would’ve been the lookout?”

“You seriously planned that?” he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Of course,” she scoffed, speeding down to the motel.

“But, you didn’t even ask me to come work you,” he pointed out.

“I’ve been doing this a while,” she sighed, pulling into the motel parking lot.

“So you steal cars wherever you go?” he asked, his tone more conversational than accusatory.

“Last one got destroyed in a fight with a griffin, so I needed a new one,” Katherine explained. “I saw the keys locked in this one on the way up here. So, I took the opportunity.”

“You’re very observant,” Luke noticed. “You were never trained?”

“Better; I’ve been on my own since I was twelve.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed, understanding her experiences. “So, are you gonna tell me what this hunt is that we’re supposed to be going on?”

Katherine readied herself for a long conversation as the two of them headed back into the dirty motel room.

“Alright. Lemme ask you this; if you could answer to someone other than the gods, would you?” she crossed her arms.

“What are you saying?” Luke looked up at her as he sat down, bewildered.

“I’m saying… wouldn’t you go for a regime change if you could?” she posed a question.

“Is that even possible?” he asked her.

“Yeah. It is,” she nodded. “You could serve someone who isn’t your father, or Zeus.”

“What makes you think I don’t like my father?” Luke asked cautiously. “Or, Zeus?”

“Well, for one, you’re here,” she pointed out, “And I didn’t even have to take anything off.”

“You’re telling me that was an option?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Look. When you told me you were a child of Hermes, I saw the way you looked, and I filled in the blanks for myself,” Katherine Montalvo stated. “The gods don’t give a shit about us. You went unclaimed, or at least unnoticed. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

There was nothing but a decent pause, as Luke considered what she said.

“Look, I know how it goes. I didn’t know my mother was my mother until I was thirteen. I had to figure out being a demigod on my own,” she frowned. “Even with my father being the asshole he was, she hardly lifted a fucking figure to help me. Look at all the unclaimed, and the shit goes on all over the world; the gods don’t care about us!” she exclaimed.

Luke sat for a moment, listening to her words.

“They don’t care about anyone!” she reasoned. “They’ve never been parents to any of us. They don’t give a shit about us! But imagine if we could get on their level! Imagine if no one could ignore us!”

Luke felt just as broken and downtrodden as she did. He’d known for years, ever since he was a child, that life had been unfair. He’d often wished when he was younger that he could do something about it, and fight for some sort of attention from his father, which was something he’d since given up on.

Not only did he find the prospect of somehow becoming as powerful as the gods to be appealing, but he was also lured by the darkness of Katherine’s eyes. There was something strangely manic about her, a raw sort of energy that he found hypnotic and contagious.

“Listen. I’ve been hearing this… voice. Like how I heard my mother’s, but it wasn’t hers.”

Luke Castellan met her eyes in shock, her words resonating with him.

“Wait. This voice,” he spoke up, “What’s it like?”

“The voice,” Katherine explained, “It’s deep, and… jarring. Like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It… it knows things. And it’s shown me things I could never dream of before.”

“Like, things that could make you more powerful?” Luke questioned. “Things that turned out helpful?”

“You hear him too,” she realized, searching his face in wonder. “Kronos. He speaks to you, too.”

“Kronos?” Luke asked. “The Titan? That’s who it is?”

“Yeah. He calls out to me, Luke. If I’m the one who resurrects him, glory and power are mine.”

“So, he really does speak to you, too!” he concluded. “He wants you to bring him back,” he whispered.

“Luke, we could bring him back,” Katherine scoffed. “Together, we could be the ones who help him rise back to power. Do you know what kind of rewards we’d get for that sort of thing?!”

“So it’s real,” he concluded. “Kronos chose us to be his soldiers.”

“Yeah. He did,” she insisted. “Together, we could bring him back, and be gods in the new world! If we succeed, we don’t have to answer to the gods, we could take their place!”

“That’s what I’ve always wanted,” Luke confided in her. “My whole life, I’ve just been a shadow. Why should my father and the other absentee landlords on Olympus get to stand in the spotlight?”

“Then what’s the issue? Help me find him. There are clues all over! If we listen to the voice, we can find him, and bring him back!”

“Alright. I’ll come with you,” he decided. “When I get back, I’ll tell everyone at camp I was on the quest. What did any of them ever do for me anyways?” he said bitterly.

“That camp is bullshit,” she scoffed. “You think the god of wine cares about demigods? Everyone knows he’s just there on a punishment. I’ve met demigods who’ve left Camp Half-Blood. They’re happier making it on their own.”

“Really?” Luke asked. “Who?”

“I’ve met a few. But I remember meeting Emma Pacheco, and Leo Jordan in Texas.”

“Oh. I remember them,” Luke realized. “She’s a daughter of Athena, and he’s a son of Hephaestus, right?”

“She’s a daughter of Athena, and he’s dead,” Katherine remembered. “He died in a Gorgon attack. I tried to help him, but… I couldn’t. Emma was devastated.”

Luke looked at her sympathetically, realizing that battle scars tended to run deeper.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a low, apologetic tone. “I’ve lost people too.”

“When I was younger, I thought living my life on the road would be easier. I thought I’d never have to know anyone long enough to care, and then, I’d never get hurt.”

Luke thought for a moment, finding that was mostly his experience in the brief amount of time he’d spent on his own as a child.

“But, that wasn’t how it happened?”

“The longer you’re on the road, the more people you meet,” she sighed, “Even if you don’t know them long. Eventually, you see more people die than most people do in a lifetime.”

“I can’t imagine it’s safe leaving the camp for that long,” he reasoned.

“That, and demigods aren’t known to live long anyways,” Katherine stated. “This lifestyle in general, it… it pretty much only ends one way.”

“Then, why do you do it?” he questioned. “Why don’t you, I don’t know… live a normal life?”

“‘Normal’?” she scoffed. “As a demigod?”

“Yeah. I guess we don’t get a whole lot of options,” he agreed understandingly.

“I dropped out of the sixth grade. My dad was an addict. I’m not giving up much by hunting monsters,” she said humorously. “At least this way, I’m helping somebody.”

“I get that,” Luke offered. “I really do.”

“Yeah. We don’t have many options,” Katherine reasoned, “So Kronos is our best bet.”

“So, what’s our first move?” he asked. “Where’s our first stop?”

“In my dreams, I saw the Underworld,” she told him.

“So you’ve had those dreams too?” he questioned.

“Yeah.”

“What else did you see?” he wondered.

“I don’t know. For me, the visions come gradually. I think we need to get on the road,” she thought, “Both of us.”

“You think that’ll work?” Luke asked, frustrated with the vague dreams and voices.

“I’ve never been able to force the voice. I something just has to trigger it,” she rationalized.

“Katherine. This is crazy. I just met you,” Luke thought aloud. “I have no idea how long we’ll be gone. They’ll never believe I’m on the quest. I finished it almost a week ago.”

“I have an idea,” she proposed. “I have a car, I’ll drive you back to New York. You can find a new excuse, and get us some supplies, and we can go off and find Kronos.”

“Yeah, but where?” Luke demanded. “Where do we even start?”

“Well, I wasn’t completely sure, but I was thinking I’d try the Underworld,” Katherine suggested.

“The Underworld? Without a plan?” Luke asked skeptically.

“Despite me carrying you through the woods on my back for two days straight, I think we have a shot,” she frowned.

Luke considered the idea for a moment.

“Alright. I’ll stock up on supplies and weapons at the camp, and then we’ll go to the Underworld. I just don’t know how we’ll get there,” he frowned.

“Easy. There’s an entrance in Central Park,” she informed him.

“There is?” Luke asked.

“Yeah. The Door of Orpheus,” Katherine replied.

“But, don’t you need music to open it?” he recalled.

“Yeah. I can sing,” she nodded.

“Can you?”

“Yeah. I can,” Katherine smiled sarcastically.

Both of them were alerted by a loud, aggressive knock on the door.

“Housekeeping!” a man’s voice shouted.

Luke went to get the door, as Katherine quickly grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t open the door!” she whispered urgently.

“Why not?” he whispered back.

“That’s not housekeeping!”

“What, you think it’s a monster?” Luke said in a low murmur.

“No. It’s not a monster,” she snapped, grabbing her bag from the bed. “Open the door, and then run.”

Katherine quickly tossed the keys at Luke, as he caught them instinctively. He watched her as she reached for something tucked into the back of her belt.

“Get the car going,” she said through her teeth.

“What are you gonna do?” Luke demanded.

“Open the fucking door!” she whispered.

Knowing not to ask any more questions, Luke threw the door open, rushing the man on the other side of the door and shoving him to the ground. Another man followed. Feeling the need to help Katherine, Luke unsheathed his dagger, only to be interrupted by Katherine herself.

“Go! Start the car!” she yelled.

Luke stared in horror as he heard gunshots, looking to see her holding the gun that accompanied them. Thinking fast, he ran to the Camaro less than ten feet away in the parking lot. He jumped into the car, waiting and on edge as he watched.

It didn’t take many more gunshots for him to see Katherine running toward the car, leaving behind two still bodies on the ground behind her. He unlocked the car door as she jumped in, screaming at him to drive.

Luke pealed out of the parking lot in the Camaro, keeping calm as Katherine sat in the seat beside him, pistol cocked in her lap as she cautiously looked out the window.

“What the fuck was that?!” Luke screamed as he drove their getaway car as fast as humanly possible.

“Just drive,” she muttered. “Don’t stop until we’re out of the city.”

“Okay, if I’m gonna be an accessory to a double homicide you committed,” Luke insisted, “I’m gonna at least need the bullet points.”

“Fine, you women are so needy!” Katherine rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say, I killed a guy in St. Louis, and he’s got family.”

“This guy you killed,” Luke said as calmly as he could, “Why did you kill him?”

“That thousand year-old map I have? The one that I use to try and figure out what actually happened to Kronos? How do you think I got it?” she asked impatiently.

“Why?” he asked subsequently.

“Because. Usually, when you steal artifacts that have survived millennia, you tend to run into some complications,” she snapped. “Besides. The guy wasn’t exactly a pillar of society.”

“Why?” Luke inquired curiously. “What happened?”

Katherine sighed, staring down at the gun in her lap before answering.

“I was dating this rich guy. He owned a museum, and that map came into his possession. He didn’t know what it was, because he didn’t speak Ancient Greek, but obviously, I did,” she explained. “I wanted the map, and I wanted out. The end.”

“Wait,” Luke stopped her, “You… You dated a guy who owned a museum?”

“Yeah,” she responded stiffly.

“How—How old was he?” he asked.

“Thirty-six,” she said.

Luke looked at her as he drove, seeing emotion in her eyes for the first time.

“How old were you?” he asked.

She turned to look at him, seeing that he asked knowing she had no comforting answer for him.

“I was young,” she said simply.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he breathed, unable to imagine the extent of her pain.

“You don’t know me,” Katherine told him, pushing him away in a way that wasn’t physical. “You don’t know me at all, okay? You don’t know what I feel, and you don’t know what I’ve had to do to survive.”

“No,” he agreed. “I don’t.”

“Trust me. You don’t need to,” she assured him, still unable to remove the gun from her lap.

Katherine knew that she’d never felt an affinity to anyone. Her father, the only parent she’d ever known, wasn’t much of a parent, and no one she’d met on the road since she left home was reliable. But the scar beneath his right eye told her everything she needed to know.

She knew Luke had been broken down the same way she had, which was also the only reason she’d decided he was the one to recruit on her mission to find the Titan of time, the father of the gods. Katherine knew she needed dependability in Luke, and she knew the only way they could both succeed was as soldiers first and people second.

-

Chapter Three

[yaoihellsmile]

I think we should marry

Hmmm I don't knoooooooooowwwww. Currently I believe I have enough clout and aesthetic appeal to not need an additional stat boost guy on my right, but that may change depending on whether I receive enough attention and praise from masked fuck (heavy breathing) this next solstice's annual Amaterasu challenge tipp-ex inhaling competition, so just in case the slot may open soon here are the requirements you need to meet in order to date me:

Cannot be shorter than 4'11

Cannot be taller than 6'1

Cannot have bigger boobs than me

Cannot be from Kamasaki only fucked up evil people come from there

Has to have extensive knowledge of warrior cats and/or minecraft creepypasta lore

Cannot have the bedrock version of minecraft. It's fine if you don't have minecraft on ur pc at all I'm just not dating bedrock users

Cannot have red hair that's my thing

Has to have a driving license

Must recognize attachment to the earth is the root of all suffering

Cannot have more disorders than me

Cannot have a political stance or other such opinions. I need a blank slate to freely influence in the direction of neoliberalism

Cannot have dated a man before me. Man Residue™ is a real thing that affects the relationships of all people who deal with men romantically

Cannot own a dog or god forbid force me to interact with it I hate those yapping shits

Cannot have people they love equally or more than me. That is not to say I will love you either as I am entirely incapable of getting attached to impure beings. It's just something you gotta take into account you know. Also don't bring your family over I do not care

Cannot be younger than 30. 20-somethings fucking scare me

Must be ok with snufftape movie night. If that's something that's just irresistably attractive to you, then I'll just say I got all Traces of Death movies at my place.... All five of them... And that's not mentioning the entire rest of the "business" folder......... Wanna find ou

Must be helplessly obsessed with The Cube

Expanding from point 16. Cannot be bothered by extreme violence and torture. I'm not dating a loser. However there are limits you CANNOT be an actual sadist that's scary only I can be one

Cannot have strong opinions on meatbun flavors. Just eat what I fucking give you jesus christ

Cannot be affiliated with, related to, or otherwise carrying any leftover residue from any one of them d*t*ct//ves

Cannot have recollection of any events in particular that transpired during the first 2 years of my rule

Must be fine with me bringing my hitman bestie boytoy along to our dates

Cannot be one of them omegas

Cannot have positive opinions on Seth must be fine with me trying to drown him via the sinks in the Progressive Amaterasu Headquarters Gender Neutral Bathroom every day

Cannot be a criminal CANNOT have ever shoplifted or did graffiti on a bridge or pirated a movie in their entire life (and if they did they have to SERVE THEIR FUCKING SENTENCE) you make me SICK you mock everything I work for

Cannot have any headmates with neutral to negative opinions on me that makes me feel threatened

Do not vent to me I don't give a fuck

Cannot have discovered the origin of malice on their own yet

I have nothing there is nothing left I will never find it there is nothing I have nothing. The albatross rots. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked. My life is fucked

Must be fine with only being like 3rd place at my hierarchy

CANNOT touch my fucking things without permission. Do not open the funny drawer. Do not open the funny drawer. Do not. Do. Not.

Needs to share my life ruining fear of teenagers

Must always wash their hands after touching that masked freak upstairs. Some of you are fucking disgusting

If you check off all these you can apply with fax machine to an adress you feel is right

To be added to later

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #36

36. FINLAND Windows95Man - "No Rules!" 19th place

Decade ranking: 143/153 [Above Nadir, below Let3]

Okay so, I promised in Saturday's post that I would try to be positive, but I may already have to rescind on that promise lol. (the "lol" is for punctuation because I definitely did not laugh.) "No rules!" stinks and has very few redeeming qualities. 🙂 Natalia was right, she WAS robbed by a Nudist Demon!

For real, does anyone over the age of twenty-five enjoy this dumpster fire? If so, fukk meee. LOVE YOURSELVES.

As I noted in my UMK review back in Feb:

I have difficulty buying into this hyperactive ball of bad taste. “Fuck The System” always feels like the go-to message of individuals that fail to fit into social structures that aren’t fully of their own shaping. For an entry that’s all “live as you like, there’s no rules!” in its messaging, these two look like they conform to just about every styling and behavioural rule associated with Zoomer culture: A total disregard for general aesthetics over a dumbed-down drone of a beat because everything is ironic and nothing is to be taken seriously.  It is a depressing take on life. Yeah sure, a bit of camp levity is welcome in this loathesome world, but any happy song that weaponizes irony like this one trends towards encouraging irresponsibility, cynicism and nihilism. Some things DO matter in life, you know? You need to afford your bills and groceries, charge your social batteries, cultivate your friendships, or else you’ll wind up living alone in a van, down by the river. But if the latter life appeals to you, then this is the entry for you, I guess. For me though; this contest is already has one Joost Klein. Let’s not add a second one from Finland.

Funny how I nailed that even before knowing the full extent of it. I ofc vastly underestimated how bad the live would be, and as soon as I'd seen it my scepsis immediately supernova'd into intense HATRED. If ONLY "Paskana" hadn't been weak as piss. Yes, the cringe in "No Rules!" is deliberate, obviously, I have a sense of humour. Having a sense of humour is why I hate it? How much "deliberated cringe" can one tolerate before concluding "nope, this is r o t t e n." Does it start with

THE BAD GUNTER IMPRESSION?

or

THE DONALD DUCKING?

or

CALLING HIMSELF" A QUEEN"?

or

screaming "SEE ME SLAYYYY" :proceeds to not slay: ?

It definitely ends in whatever this shot is supposed to be.

Humour is subjective sure enough, and Windowsninetycringeman's jokes fall flatter than a pancake á moi. Why is everything denim? Why is this THIRTY-NINE YEAR OLD MAN still engaging in toilet humour and internet speak? Grow the f up? The art lies in the execution and Finland showed neither. I do NOT like Europapa much, but having Finland and not Netherlands in the final vibes wrong on so many levels. Europapa at least had a clear plan and delivered its nonsense in contained, piecemeal doses? It was COMPETENT in what it attempted to be (A Televote Winner), not a lazy amalgation of simple-minded drunk jokes strung together over a Planet of The Bass megamix as some sort of a Hail Mary. Joost and Teemu represent the Expectations/Reality divide of Zoomer Nonsense and it was darksided that only the latter got to compete for points. But on top of that, Teemu was generally just full of shit? Hooray, an Old Millennial engaging in Zoomer Cringe who lets an actual zoomer do all the vocal heavy lifting, without giving him a single featuring credit. Yay! It's a painfully accurate depiction of what being a zoomer is like, but not an intentional one.

Also remember when Teemu said he would "try to discreetly approach the other contestants to find ways to show support for Palestine" (remember that this contest was supposed to be 'not political'?) Hm yes discreet. So discreet he declared his intentions to interviewers so that everyone would know it was HIS idea. "Discreet", human please. And the result of all that talk was...

(lol I'm SO making it sound like I care about what political standpoints any of these acts took, and I don't. But I do call out a fraud when I spot one.)

Yeah well thanks for trying, but I'd rather you hadn't. A statement you can apply to my feelings of the entry overall. Okay, we've reached full circle, time to move on to our designated palate cleanser because THIS page is a safe zone for people of good taste.

The universe where YLE overrules the results and sends THEM to ESC is the one where we head to Helsinki twice in a row.

THE RANKING

[temperamentalaquarius]

any thoughts on batman: black mirror? i really enjoyed it (as a non-batfamily fan) but i'm wondering if there is a difference of opinion with people who are actually acquainted with the context behind black mirror, i guess. which parts did you find the strongest + which parts did you find the weakest?

anyways, im a huge fan of your comics-posting (which is both, in the best way, entertaining and insightful). have a great day!

Ahhh thank u!! I'm glad I'm not the only one having fun 😁!!!

Thank you so much for sending this, I loved the dick!bats era and I liked The Black Mirror!!

I thought it was a decent Dick story, and I loved that it had Babs and Tim as the supporting cast. It was good to see them back(mostly) in their 90s early 2000s element.

I thought that the A plot was better than the serial killer B plot-; it had a lot of personal connection for Dick without being about the Graysons and orcas(which are some of the most vicious and borderline cruel predators that terrify me to my core and it was really cool to see them get some use)- even if I didn't find the ending super satisfying.

I thought James was interesting, and his story was more linear but the addition of the Joker into the situation was kind of just...messy and not entirely necessary? It kind of killed it for me. Idk I might just have Joker fatigue. I did like the coloring and a good portion of the art better in that part of the story, tho. I thought the mood they set was really cool and a little scary.

My high points were all (unsurprisingly) character based:

I loved the way Tim saving Dick from his own shit here

Kinda paralleled this scene in NW 96

But more mature. Watching them go from Dick mentoring Tim to them having a much more balanced relationship where Tim can fully have Dick's back has always been super satisfying and seeing it making a come back after their little fallout was cool

I also like the attention paid to the differences in Bruce and Dick's philosophy (specifically here:

) and the difficulty that Batman presents Dick because of it. Part of the appeal of Dick being Batman is the reluctance and the chunk of flesh it takes out of him and I think this story really got the tone of that right. He's making mistakes that he wouldn't normally, he's not sleeping; you can really tell that everything is getting to him. He feels like the walls are closing in on him with no way out (sometimes literally) and it makes the whole story kind of..weary? It's as much man vs man as it is man vs self. Love that many of the action sequences in the book happen in enclosed places that have an unstoppable deadly force converging on him with no way out and how that emphasizes the theme

OH and my absolute favorite analogy for the mindset that dick operates w/ is in this book

And how that works with his parents rules for survival

There's like... a debate on whether Dick plans or if he acts on instinct and I like the way that this breaks it down to: yes, he's planning from the start and if it seems like he isn't it's because that's what he wants you to think- but he understands that leaving space to bob and weave is a part of that process. Ultimate planner that is liable to start behaving erratically as fuck at any moment is such a fun look

Favorite fight was probably the horror forward snap at the auction, with honorarable mentions going to Dick v.s the compactor, Dick v.s. the orca, and of course Dick v.s. The bends

Worst was by far this one:

There is no way he should've been able to waltz into Babs' hideout without her knowing I'm so sorry it's just not realistic, like, that's Barbara Gordon???

[modelbus]

hi! this is my first time requesting so i’m sorry if this is confusing — but i was wondering if i could request a (romantic) dream x female or gn reader and dream ‘catches’ the reader wearing his knit cat hat and dream just melts and becomes really fluffy and cuddly <3

His knit cat hat is adorable and I want one

Pairing: CC!Dream x Gn!Reader

His Hat

Really, you don't even think about it until it's too late. His hat was there, you were going outside into the cold, and you just grabbed it. By the time you realize what hat it was, you're already outside. And it's just so goddamn cozy.

So, you keep it on. Just for the quick trip to the store then back. It wasn't like he'd ever find out, right? And besides, if he did catch you wearing his hat, he'd probably just tell you to get your own. Maybe ban you from taking his stuff again, but nothing extreme. As you slip off your shoes in the entryway you completely forget that you're wearing his hat. It's one of those cozy hats, light on your head. It's also slightly too big, but that just adds to the appeal.

You head into the kitchen, depositing the microwave popcorn you bought into a cabinet. Movie night was serious business and you had been tasked with snack duty for this one. Among your haul were peanut M&M's, sour gummy worms, and skittles. Only the best candies for your movie nights.

"What'd you get?" Dream asks, making you jump. You hadn't even heard him approach!

"Snacks for movie night." You answer, turning around to find him in the doorway.

He's looking slightly above you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion before realizing you forgot to take off his hat. Shit. You knew he wouldn't be mad but getting banned from taking his clothes wasn't on your agenda for the day.

"You're wearing my cat hat." He points out.

"Sorry." You laugh nervously, taking it off and setting it on the counter. Your hair’s probably a mess because of it. "It was the first hat I grabbed."

"Don't be sorry." He immediately says, crossing the kitchen to you. "You look good in it."

Your cheeks immediately flush as he grabs the hat and situates it on your head. He's overly careful not to push it into your eyes or mess up your hair, bringing a sort of sweetness to the moment. His eyes are soft, focused on you.

"There." He hums, satisfied with him himself. “You should keep it on.”

“I should?” You ask, very confused. You thought Dream would be a little upset you stole his hat.

“Yeah. I told you it looks good on you. I like seeing you in my hat.”

He ducks his head to kiss you, hands briefly ghosting over your waist before he pulls away again. You smile at him before turning back to organizing the snacks. His arms loop around you, head settling atop yours for a moment as he watches.

"What?" You ask. He's being more touchy than usual; something has to be going on.

Dream pulls away, making you turn back to him. He doesn’t go far though, entwining his hand in yours and gently tugging you into the living room. The snacks are left abandoned as you follow him.

“Come watch football with me.” He insists.

"You'll have to explain all the rules and flags to me again." You warn him, but don't try and resist.

The second you're both on the couch he's pulling you closer to him so he can wrap an arm around your shoulders while you curl into him. You recognize one of the football teams as the Oklahoma Sooners, the one he likes. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, staring at the screen.

"They have to make it ten yards or else the ball goes to the other team." Dream quietly explains.

It's probably the fifth time you've heard him explain this exact thing, but you just keep forgetting. Football is confusing, and it's hard to pay attention when you're cuddling with him. Dream is always a welcome distraction from anything.

"You're being awfully touchy." You point out, moving to run your hand through his hair to tame the unruly curls. They're adorable but always a mess. “Not that I mind.”

He grins at you. "What can I say? You look really good in my hat."

"Maybe I'll buy one then."

Dream immediately frowns and shakes his head before his expression shifts more into a pout. The quick emotion change makes you laugh. Sometimes he can be a little dramatic, but you love him.

"You look good in my hat." He repeats, emphasizing his words.

"So I can only wear your cat hat?"

"Exactly."

Who could've thought that stealing his hat, accident or not, would've been the second-best thing you ever did? Second only to dating him in the first place, of course.

Dream kisses you again, making you practically melt into him. Now that you've found his secret weakness, you're definitely going to be using it. The great Dream, felled by you wearing his knit cat hat.

"You missed a touchdown." You mumble against his lips, teasing.

He doesn't even look back at the TV. "Better than missing a second of you."

Goddamn.

[chronurgy]

13, 6 and 8 for your durgetash!

What's your personal favourite flavour that you find yourself gravitating towards? Not necessarily what sort of stuff you publish or smth, but what you personally consume like a starving man in a desert and rotate in your brain? The kinky shit, the domestics, the gore and horror attached to them, star crossed lovers vibes?

Ooo. Ooo that's hard. I think it's a combo of the gore and the horror and the terror and the want and the love and the sense of almost, almost hanging over the whole thing. Like one of those short stories that strings out this beautiful web of what can or might be and then sets it all on fire and leaves you wondering. There should be something there, whether it's love or need or obsession, but there needs to be something under all the layers. It should all be very disquieting.

What's the most wholesome hc you have for them? Something they did, a particular approach at bonding, just them being disgustingly soft once? Some good old hand in hand vivisection?

For Vesper and Gortash it's that they both genuinely like one another. They're startlingly well suited, they talk about each other's interests, they work on projects together. They push each other to greater heights. It's just that that isn't great for the rest of the world lol (and there's a fair argument that it isn't good for them either, though I think both of them are well beyond that point anyway)

How does each of them view death and dying? Does Gortash hold a similar approach to Durge or is Durges view on death a bit warped, to put it lightly?

I think Gortash sees his death as failure (both of bane and of his own ambitions). If he dies then he is nothing, has nothing (just like his parents said). I don't think he gives much thought to the meaning of death for other people. Death is useful, death is a tool, but he has no real sentiment towards it, it's just another state people might enter.

Vesper sees death as a boring inevitably for other people. Those people will die, either naturally, unnaturally, or as part of the plan. That's all there is to it, no need to fuss about it. I don't think they ever really think much about their own death beyond the one at their own hand at the end of the world. They don't really believe anyone else to be capable of killing them. I think they might see that final death as..... Respite, almost? It would be finished, the world dead at their hand. They succeeded, there are no more demands to be made upon them and perhaps they might be left alone to their studies (they know it almost certainly wouldn't work out like that). But that's all complicated by Gortash's existence because he shows them the world doesn't have to be a string of dull days with little to differentiate them, it can be something thrilling. And that makes that final death seem less appealing, less a respite and more an end to... well.... being alive, the whole world spread out before them for the taking.

[nevarroes]

i can’t really speak for other people but whenever i think of ur art or see ur art on my tl i can only think of cas. like, i don’t think of u as ‘oh that one bg3 gortash x oc artist!’ to me ur the creator of casim! like i eat up every crumb of lore u offer of his SRSLY. i have truly never ever seen art like urs, what got me hooked to ur stuff in the first place was that portrait u did of cas with the bloody bhaal handprint, & Then i stumbled across the stuff with gortash. n listen, gortash is one of my favorites in the game, but (at least for me & imo) when u create an entirely new character & ship them with a canon one, that canon character kinda becomes ur own in a way. like the gortash you draw with cas is very in character, dont get me wrong, but at the same time he’s a little different from the game, & i like both gortash within gortcas And bg3 gortash. like i said, can’t really speak for anyone else, but ur art is so incredibly unique, and when i see it or think about it, i just think of you as an artist, not some rando bg3 fanartist i follow. ur art means a lot more than that to me, & probably a lot of ur other followers

which i dont understand the people that are like ‘i didnt know cas was ur oc i thought he was in the game’ because i have NEVERRRR seen that commented on anyone else’s ocs. ever 😭 cas is 100% gorgeous, and fits well into the realm of bg3, but no shit??? thats kinda the point??? like what was truly expected when commenting that

anyway. yeah, ur art is beautiful, & even if i am just one person telling u that ur art means way more to me than some random bg3 fanart that i could find anywhere, i hope it makes u feel a tiny bit better all the same <3

thank you so much too for taking the time to tell me this, I‘m honestly a little overwhelmed (not negatively!) since I really didn‘t expect people to like or let alone be attached to Cas or Gortcas this way, it means so much to me tbh🥺

I‘ve also realized honestly that I kinda glossed over the art aspect in the whole thing until I read your message? I suppose because I‘ve never really considered my art to be super unique style-wise or anything so I more or less just see it as a way to try and show something about the characters and attempt to tell a story. It‘s not that I hate my art it‘s more that it didn‘t occur to me that my art or style might play a part in it too, if that makes sense? Anyways yapping sorry, I just wanted to say thank you so much and I‘m glad that my art and stuff appeals to you this much💜💜

[turvi]

The Love of My Dreams - 6

Series Masterlist

Her heart was beating faster as the familiar building came into view. It looked similar to all the buildings in the street. Y/n never paid attention to the company's name. She never bothered. Colin was closed off about things, and he only cared about his accomplishments and nothing else. Only hearing the next big client's name and nothing about what made them so special.

Y/n tried to look at the building's name through her car's window, not realising a familiar tall and lanky man crossing the street. Her eyes luckily drifted towards the road, and she immediately hit the breaks her car's bumper touching Remus' leg.

She apologetically looked into his wide eyes. His hands trembled along with his lunch bag in his right hand. Y/n immediately got out of her car. "I am so sorry. I was not looking, and I know that sounds illegal...."

Remus didn't hear shit. He was lost. Her eyes, her voice. She was standing right in front of him and yet so far away. She looked so beautiful right now. He wondered if Colin told her how beautiful she is and if he told her how sweet her smile is. He never saw her smile like this in his dreams, and that was unfair because it was more beautiful than any sunrise he could see.

He was brought back to reality when he felt her warm touch on his arm. Remus felt a shiver run down his spine. "Uh..yeah I am fine don't worry...it's alright."

"Let me park my car. It's blocking the road."

Remus had no business staying there waiting for her. But he did. He watched her get out of her car. The tiffin in her hand looked more appealing and bright than his overused brown lunch bag.

"I never caught your name." Remus was surprised with his own confidence. Where did this confidence go when he needed the most?

"Y/n L/n." With a contagious smile, she introduced herself as she extended her hand.

"I'm Remus Lupin. I didn't get to thank you for helping with my panic attack." he didn't shake her hand, too busy enjoying the feeling of her soft hand against his scarred hand. Both wait for the other to pull away their hand, holding it a bit longer for being strangers. It takes a lot of strength in Remus not to trace the back of Y/n's hand with his thumb or to feel her pulse just below her palm.

A distant honking interrupted them, leading them to instantly pull their hands away. Remus cleared his throat and led Y/n awkwardly towards the entrance as if she had not been there several times before. But she let him lead her anyways.

The elevator's hum filled in the silence between them. Y/n wanted to smile, but she didn't know why. She felt her heartbeat and wondered if he could hear her heart beating so loudly.

Her eyes traced the veins on the same hand she had held just a few minutes ago. Her fingers twitched and ached to hold his hand again. Y/n felt his gaze on her. She looked up to find him looking at her not in judgement but in curiosity.

Y/n pointed towards his brown lunch bag. "You might wanna buy a lunch box the bags get ruined easily, especially a brown bag like this."

Remus shrugged. "There is barely any food in there. Why bother?" He ruefully chuckled. He missed home cooked meals. He knew how to cook, but the workload doesn't let him experiment or cook a proper meal. "And the workload is gonna increase once Colin and his team leave for a conference in Cambridge."

Y/n frowned. "Wait, Cambridge? Colin didn't tell me about any conference."

"It's tomorrow. Quite important."

The elevator dinged, and both realised it took a bit longer today for them to reach the floor. Remus was about to open the door to the office when Y/n stopped him.

"Hey...uh..I can make meals for you."

Remus looked at her in confusion. He was thankful for this offer. But he couldn't accept it for uncountable reasons. Even Y/n was surprised, but looking at Remus and the dark circles under his eyes, this was the least she could do for him.

"I can't bother you. Honestly, I am fine. I am still settling in. I can't trouble you."

"You won't be troubling me. I have to bring Colin's lunch anyways, so I will bring yours too. Until you settle down?"

Remus' heart sang at her kindness. But then he remembered. "Wouldn't Colin mind?"

"He won't notice, and even if he does, he owes me for making me drive here just for his lunch."

She chuckled, and Remus' hand twitched, wanting to trace her lips. He placed a hand on his chest and shook his head as he felt his heart flutter at that thought. "I can't thank you enough for helping me." He said with a fond smile and thought he would meet her tomorrow.

"Well, give me 30 mins, and I'll bring your lunch. Everything is ready. I just need to reheat it."

Before Remus could argue, Y/n ran towards the lift only to run back towards him and hand him Colin's lunch. "Almost forgot." He chuckled at her antics. He felt...warm and happy.

A/N: REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @milivanili99 @fieldofsecretss @moon-witchs-world