#karen in the house bored

[ikiiky]

WAIT HOLD ON BC I WAS LOOKING UP MINION MEMES TO USE IRONICALLY LIKE A SECOND AGO

[torpublishinggroup]

Though it might be tempting, don’t venture into hedge mazes…no matter what

Be mindful of triggering the wrath of revenge ghosts lest you become a ghost yourself

Beware the dangers of underestimating “docile girls”—it could be a killer mistake

Summoning an ancient evil demon is NEVER a good idea. Seriously. 

Trying to steal someone’s home might cost you your soul. It’s never worth it. 

Understand that haunted houses have feelings too—the problem is sometimes they’re evil.

Tips provided by Terry J. Benton-Walker, editor and contributor of The White Guy Dies First: 13 Scary Stories of Fear and Power.

WHAT IT’S ABOUT

Killer clowns, a hungry hedge maze, and rich kids who got bored. Friendly cannibals, impossible slashers, and the dead who don’t stay dead....

A museum curator who despises “diasporic inaccuracies.” A sweet girl and her diary of happy thoughts. An old house that just wants friends forever....

These stories are filled with ancient terrors and modern villains, but go ahead, go into the basement, step onto the old plantation, and open the magician’s mystery box because this time, the white guy dies first.

Edited by Terry J. Benton-Walker, including stories from bestselling, award-winning, and up-and-coming contributors: Adiba Jaigirdar, Alexis Henderson, Chloe Gong, Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, H. E. Edgmon, Kalynn Bayron, Karen Strong, Kendare Blake, Lamar Giles, Mark Oshiro, Naseem Jamnia, Tiffany D. Jackson, and Terry J. Benton-Walker.

A collection you’ll be dying to talk about…if you survive it.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.

Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.

“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”

Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”

“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.

“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”

“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”

Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”

A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”

“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”

“And get the, get more quiches?”

Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”

“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”

Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”

“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”

“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”

Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”

“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.

“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”

“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”

Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”

Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“

“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”

“Eddie-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”

Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.

But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.

“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”

“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live here?”

“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”

“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”

Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”

“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”

“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”

“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“

“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”

“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.

“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”

“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”

“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”

“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.

“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”

“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”

“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”

“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”

Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”

“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”

“What's it like?”

Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.

“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”

“Buck-”

“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”

Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.

But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”

“And then-”

“And then stay.”

“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.

“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.

“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.

[inkskinned]

they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.

but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.

you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.

you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.

you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.

it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."

in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.

someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.

you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).

you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)

and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this

but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.

you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.

[richlyfe]

Defensive astrology observations 👹

- If they have a Pisces moon make sure their not a addict or alcoholic you can’t save them 🫶🏽 also can’t be alone always in a relationship

- if their planets fall in your 12th house…Run save yourself Sun, moon, Venus, Rising. Be prepared for the ride of your life. Bright side painful lessons for spiritual growth.

- moon and pluto negatively aspecting in synastry can be intense but get really toxic

- Mars in Aries avoid fights you’ll most likely end up with a scar on your face.

- Lilith dominants be careful with your romantic partners because they become obsessed and possessive with you which can be dangerous they might take you out 🪦. Never break up with people in person and never tell people when your leaving just go.

- if your friend is a Gemini Sun Women noticed they are really competitive with women. Low vibration ones crave male attention/ validation and hate when other women around them receive it. Gemini low key incestous.

- Libra Moon people a friend to all a friend to none type.

- Pisces suns use vulnerability and sweetness and their good reputation to reel people in…this is fake weakness Pisces Suns are the experts in emotional manipulation. Will use tears, guilt, gifts etc. Great at making you feel your the only one but always have backups. Pisces sun : Appear weak when they are strong

Random Pisces tend to be the Karen’s black or white very entitled and easily offended.

Neptune in 11th house watch out for your friends most likely to backstab you. Also people might gossip about your drinking so just be careful.

If your lover or friends mother is a Scorpio Sun they groom their kids to go after people with money and power. Scorpio Sun women tend to marry rich and the powerful and teach their kids to do the same. If your successful or have clout and you have a new friend or lover and their mom is a Scorpio Sun make sure their intentions are pure.

Leo moons stop dating Scorpio moons please date a Sag moon or Leo sun someone that makes love fun.

Cancer Sun men lie for fun about any and everything always see if what they say checks out before you trust them. The type to hide an entire family and marriage. Boring texters.

Libra men wear the “good guy mask” to reel people in they are the type to plot against you hiding their true agenda while dating you. Ie: Halle and DDG (libra) lyrics read “might just tweet somethin' just to ruin it. I got a platform, I'm abusin' it. It's a couple things about your job I wanna know” -Famous

Virgo suns if they’re not a boss or where they want to be career wise don’t trust them. They can be really envious and purposely give you bad advice or try to distract you from your goals.

Virgo suns learn your body tired of y’all saying y’all stomach hurt.

Leo Suns really fun but can be bad influences. Also can be extremely envious of others success.

[mysteriousauthor448]

What if Class of 09 Flipside was made by a Woman?

I liked Class of 09. I liked it's snappy dialogue, I liked it's social commentary of high school and women's experiences with creepy men and adulthood, I liked how it gave such a compelling main character where you know she's awful yet acknowledge that she has her reasons without justification. I like Class of 09, both the original and re-up. What I don't like though, is Class of 09: The Flipside.

Setting my personal disgust with the feet routes and the 'Palestinian slave trade' comment aside, the writing in Flipside just is completely different from the last 2. Instead of focusing on the biting social commentary of the woman experience, it instead prioritizes shock value with only some form of substance (e.g, jecka seeing nicole's suicide, jeffrey's death, the ending messages apart from the creator) And you know what else sucks? We never actually got to explore Jecka properly of who she is as a character, her relationships with her family, friends, former friends...Sure, we get doses of her life like her dad which does do what the game promised: Change how we saw the Class of 09 story before. We now understand why Jecka was terrified of the cop's yelling, not only because an powerful authority abusing his power but also experienced it before. See, this was the stuff I expected from Flipside. This was what the game should've prioritised in. Instead, it seemed like the creator would rather showcase his fetishes and spite people that don't like him or the game. From that there on, I keep thinking to myself: 'you know, this game would've been better had a woman wrote this.' But can they?

I'm a woman experienced high school before, even tried to fit the class of 09 writing style on my characters in my own personal time. Given how a lot of class of 09 fans are disappointed with the new game and I want to get into writing publically, I figure that I be the one to rewrite Class of 09 The Flipside in hopes of re-capturing the essence of the first two games alongside the game's intentions itself. Even though it's still in development, I've already outlined the routes/endings so far for you all to get a peek:

Route 1/Ending 1 - Invasion of MySpace: The foot route will be replaced by Jecka taking and making videos/pictures in order to make money after being fired from her job. Think of it like a late 2000s or early 2010s version of OnlyFans. This would help remain the social commentaries of men’s creepy behaviour to women alongside how their safety is affected. There’ll be an option of whether to go to the creepy man’s house or go home. If she goes home, she finds Nicole giving her dad a handjob with a dead expression. It ends with Jecka killing herself and implies that Nicole followed her too (not half naked though, just in regular clothes cuz I'm not a freak unlike someone)

Ending 2 - MurderSpace: If Jecka chose to go to the creepy man’s home, she gets murdered and placed like a doll in the man’s basement. 

Route 2/Ending 6 - Breaking the Wounded Heart: Jecka finds herself to work with Karen and Ari at Dominos. Overtime, they start to form a bond and Jecka herself starts to mature and finds Nicole to be unbearable. Jecka finally breaks off her friendship with Nicole and cuts forward to the future where Jecka currently lives a peaceful yet boring life, reflecting on the past with Nicole, wondering if she’s really better off without Nicole because while she’s now in a stable life without the chaos, it's the chaos that entertained her: Nicole entertained her. And now it’s all gone. But in the end, it suggests that things are much better with Nicole gone as it cuts to a phone beeping and Jecka looking down at it with a smile while Ari is by her side. Yes, this is the route where Jeckari is canon. I know this sounds too sweet for Class of 09 but I want it to still match the vibe with it being less shocking but more real in a way. Something too realistically depressing but still mundane. This is what I planned to be the saddest but best outcome of the game. The most real I should say. 

Ending 5 - Was it all worth it?: If Jecka chooses Nicole over her new friends, it ends with her and Nicole being homeless smoking drugs in an abandoned forest with Jecka reflecting on whether or not she made a good choice with Nicole before commenting on needing a Xanax to distract her from the regret and pain. 

Route 3/Ending 3 - Fuck Men!: Jecka gets into a relationship with a presumably kind-hearted gentleman. Nicole tries to warn her but Jecka won’t listen. She then is coerced by the man into doing sexual favours for his economic gain, making her become a sex trafficked victim.

Route 4/Ending 4 - Drunk Drive Delivery: Same route where Ari dies but instead the ending changed to Jecka being arrested for 6 months where the ending monologue would showcase her conflicted in anger and regret. Plus, it plays more to the idea of Jecka ‘dying at 21’ logic with being forced to work: adult party culture: that kind of thing. 

I'd be happy to hear any feedback or/and ideas for this rewrite.

[5five5five5five5five5five]

Grace / the nannies / pogo somehow managing to get Reginald to rent out a children's museum for the evening just once when the kids are like 5-6 (maybe for their birthday). They needed something to get all their energy out.

Five and Viktor in a big plastic fake tree reading books and then going to the fake supermarket, where Luther and Allison are playing house and forced Ben to be their kid. Ben wants to go to the theater where Klaus has put on a one kid retelling of the ugly duckling with no audience.

Baby Diego is either clinging to grace for dear life and not knowing what to do........or has made it his mission to sneak around and throw something at each sibling without getting caught. Five and Viktor are the hardest targets bc they have cooped themselves up in the tree.

Diego also sneaking off because he wants to play in the water zone but the adults told him not to. He comes back sopping wet but very happy. An adult has to get him changed.

Klaus comes out of the theater costume zone dressed to the nines and proclaims himself mayor of hargreeves-ville. No one listens. Five will be the only one to call him mayor for the rest of the evening. But not respect said title.

Luther ends up playing in the"boring" science kid zone for a while well Allison and Ben join Klaus in the theater.

Diego ends up in the tree but he very dangerously climbed up on it. He's stuck. No one notices till Klaus screams, causing everyone to try and get him down.

Five and Viktor end up in the theater. Viktor plays with the instruments well five becomes a butthole director to everyone. Klaus isn't having fun anymore and runs to the supermarket.

Most of them end up in the fake supermarket and have a big group play, assigning jobs and trying to actually get along. It goes as well as u would think. Klaus can't stop beep scanning things and annoying everyone with it. Five ends up enjoying fake arguing like a Karen too much and it genuinely starts to get on Allison's nerves along with the beeping. "I heard a rumor everyone was quiet!!" Then dead silence. Allison feels bad but let's it stay for a few seconds longer before "I heard a rumor that you guys could talk again~" she gives five a weak smile, hoping he doesn't explode. five gives her the biggest scowl and maybe even some tears. I think five HATES being rumored. Ends up running away from the whole thing.

Viktor has a bit too much fun going "should I get this one....ooor this one" it's two of the same toy steaks. He asks five witch one then ben. Both say the left. He gets the right.

Ben is the "manager" and is hating his existence. He ends up enjoying stocking the shelves and ignoring everything around him. Probably took a audio book cassette player from the reading tree and has been blocking everything out. Also him using his tentacles to sort things.

Luther was still in the science zone and bumps into a very upset five. ever the number 1 caring bro , Luther tries his best to comfort him. They end up away from everyone to play in a big fake rocket ship. Viktor eventually joins, holding a shopping bag with his lone toy steak in it.

Diego and Klaus end up doing arts and crafts and get covered in glitter.

They all end the day covered in glitter, wet, probably covered in stickers and marker. They need to be sneaked into the house so hargreeves doesn't see and quick to the baths (the security got it and the nannies and pogo got a ear full later) they were clean as a whistle by the time dinner rolls around.

They never have an outing like that again and barely remember it.

[farfromstrange]

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness. 

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally. 

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by. 

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth. 

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.  

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you. 

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him. 

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave. 

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you. 

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again. 

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself. 

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive. 

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to. 

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure. 

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.  

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you. 

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you. 

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands. 

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts. 

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you. 

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop. 

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper. 

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth. 

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you. 

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart. 

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again. 

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all. 

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start? 

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say. 

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him. 

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.” 

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same. 

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back. 

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x Smartass!reader

Readers is a smartass plain and simple they do not know when to stop running their mouth someone telling them they look stupid? “That's what your mother said when you popped out.” it usually ends up in a fight win or lose reader will never shut the hell up

Magic Kisses

|| poly!plastics x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, jock picks on reader, reader making smartass remarks, regina standing up for reader

|| Summary; during lunch, reader overhears a comment a jock makes about them. They take matters into their own hands, but Regina steps in before things get worse.

Requests closed!

Started; November 12th

Finished; November 12th

~~~

Little thing about you, you never knew when to stop running your mouth. From morning to night you always seemed to have something to say. Usually some smartass remark in business that wasn't your own. Most of the time, your girlfriends found it pretty amusing. When it didn't land you in trouble.

Getting to school felt like such a rush this morning, you didn't realize how late it was until you heard the constant honk of Regina's horn. Clearly more than impatient as she waited for you. As you walked out of the house, she rolled her eyes and looked you up and down. "You look like you just rolled out of bed."

"Gee, thanks. Aren't you just a ray of sunshine this morning?" You huffed, getting into the back with Karen. Gretchen sat front seat next to Regina, feeling a little fidgety after your remark.

"So- so! Uh, sleep well, Y/N?" Gretchen asked, trying to make conversation and avoid looking at the glare Regina sent you. You just smiled sheepishly at the blonde, who rolled her eyes and started the jeep, before turning your attention to Gretchen.

"No, didn't get to sleep until late and then when I was asleep I kept waking up. And overslept past my alarm this morning." You sighed, leaning back against the seats of the jeep as Regina drove the four of you to school. Karen looked at you with a frown, noticing how tired you were. She gets an idea and immediately smiles. Karen cups your cheeks, giving you a kiss. You melted under her touch, lips moving against hers while one leg went over Karen's lap. Moving her closer. The kiss ended and you looked into her eyes. A little confused," what was the kiss for, baby?"

"Magic kisses. They help when you feel sad!" Karen said simply, giving you a pat on the head. You blinked, surprised by her response. Then laughed and smiled, already feeling a little better. Magic kisses, huh?

"Well hey, look at that. It worked." You gave her a kiss on the nose and she giggled.

Getting to school didn't take long; it was only about a five minute drive from your pace. When everyone got out of Regina's jeep, Gretchen skipped over to you. Looking happy as she pecked your lips and wrapped an arm around your waist," I hope your day's better than your night." She smiled at you and you smiled back, giving her ass a little squeeze while you held her close.

"Thanks, Gren." You gave her a proper kiss and she melted against you. It didn't take a lot to get Gretchen swooning. Regina and Karen walked ahead, Karen holding hands with Regina and babbling on about something. While Regina looked incredibly bored with the conversation. Just occasionally nodding her head.

School was boring right up until about lunch time. You sat with your girls, sitting comfortably next to Regina. The four of you making light conversation. Gretchen keeping you all up to date with the latest gossip. You left the table to go get another snack and passed by one of the jocks. Overhearing him say," I don't get why the plastics picked them. Like, they're just stupid. There's nothing special about them."

You glanced at the jock, raising an eyebrow that could only mean to say 'seriously?' and scoffed. Getting his attention. You folded your arms across your chest," I'm sure your mother said the same thing when you popped out." You retorted, a smirk growing on your face. His eyes widened and he looked at you. Both him and his buddy caught off guard for just a moment. Before they recovered.

"Listen here, you little shit-" He started walking towards you. Only for Regina to get in front of him. When you hadn't been paying attention, she walked over the moment she saw you talking with the jock. With the kind of mouth you had, she knew trouble would start. And she was right. Gretchen and Karen watched from the sidelines as the jock stuttered under Regina's glare," uh- Regina- heyyyy-"

"Apologize to them." Was all she said, hands rested on her hips. She just radiated power and dominance. The guys shared a glance, the jock that had spoken swallowed.

"I'm sorry..." He muttered through gritted teeth.

Regina rolled her eyes," not to me, to them." She pointed to you," while you're at it, get on your hands and knees." She smirked.

The jock looked utterly humiliated and humbled as he got down. Resting on both knees, head tilted up to you. The glare in his eyes ever present, showing just how much he hated this." I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you sure look it." You smirked and walked over to Regina, giving her a kiss. Her arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close while you made out with her. The jock, though you couldn't see, looked incredibly jealous. When the kiss parted, Regina looked into your eyes and sighed. Losing the tension in her shoulders. She grabbed your hand and took you back over to their table. Damn, she was hot. Your eyes didn't leave her for the rest of lunch.

[sibylsleaves]

you call me pretty little thing

2.7k | rated E | Five Alarm Fest Day 3 | read on ao3 Buck grins against Eddie’s jaw as Eddie goes completely taut and still on the couch. “Buck,” Eddie breathes after a moment. “Are you wearing—?” Buck nips at Eddie’s slack mouth and says coyly, “Why don’t you see for yourself?” Eddie, it seems, doesn’t need to be told twice. He shoves Buck off his lap, tearing his sweatpants down his hips to reveal the tiny, pink lace panties Buck has on beneath them. in which Buck's seduction plan kind of backfires but no one's complaining

So far, Buck’s plan is going off without a hitch.

It’s a lazy, weekend night with just the two of them at the Diaz house, Chris having gone out with friends to eat his weight in chicken wings and see the new Ghostbusters movie—the kind of teenage outing that’s becoming more and more common these days.

Despite his aversion to LA’s Friday night crowds, Eddie had offered to take Buck out to the Peruvian place he’s been wanting to try, but Buck had demurred.

“Let’s just stay in,” he’d said. “I wanna test out that tajin chicken recipe Karen sent me last week. And we can watch the next episode of Physical 100.”

“Jesus,” Eddie replied, playing with the fingers of Buck’s left hand. He was smiling that sweet, smitten smile that Buck’s been the preening recipient of more times than he cant count in the past few months. “Are we officially old and boring like Chris says?”

“Pretty sure we hit that milestone a while ago,” Buck replied, equally embarrassingly smitten. There’s no one else he’d rather be old and boring with than Eddie.

Now, after a recipe trial deemed a triumphant success and half an episode in to Physical 100, Buck’s got Eddie right where he wants him—on the couch, underneath him, while Buck sucks a messy hickey onto the side of his neck.

“Maybe,” Eddie murmurs between deep, sloppy kisses, “we should think about moving this to the bedroom.”

Buck hums in agreement, rolling his hips lazily in Eddie’s lap and cradling Eddie’s face between his hands as he sinks into another deep kiss. Buck’s already discarded his shirt, tossed unceremoniously behind the couch, and Eddie’s hands are busy roaming over the bare expanse of Buck’s chest, over his shoulder blades, down his back. One hand ventures further, dipping under the elastic of Buck’s sweatpants to grab a handful of his ass and—

Freezes there.

(continue on ao3)

[torpublishinggroup]

“Changing the horror game one short story at a time.” —Cosmopolitan on The White Guy Dies First

WHAT IT’S ABOUT

The White Guy Dies First includes thirteen scary stories by all-star contributors and this time, the white guy dies first.

Killer clowns, a hungry hedge maze, and rich kids who got bored. Friendly cannibals, impossible slashers, and the dead who don’t stay dead....

A museum curator who despises “diasporic inaccuracies.” A sweet girl and her diary of happy thoughts. An old house that just wants friends forever....

These stories are filled with ancient terrors and modern villains, but go ahead, go into the basement, step onto the old plantation, and open the magician’s mystery box because this time, the white guy dies first.

Edited by Terry J. Benton-Walker, including stories from bestselling, award-winning, and up-and-coming contributors: Adiba Jaigirdar, Alexis Henderson, Chloe Gong, Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, H. E. Edgmon, Kalynn Bayron, Karen Strong, Kendare Blake, Lamar Giles, Mark Oshiro, Naseem Jamnia, Tiffany D. Jackson, and Terry J. Benton-Walker.

A collection you’ll be dying to talk about…if you survive it.

[nqueso-emergency]

From a writer’s perspective, I just don’t see Buddie happening for the same reason I don’t see Eddie finding a LI that lasts anytime soon. Let me know if you agree.

To me, if the whole main cast is already paired up, it can get boring for the GA. There are so many sls you can do with a couple, much less if you have a main cast made only of couples. Having Buddie would, also, change the 118’s dynamic in a way I don’t think would be good.

Up until now Buck was the one they could play as the attractive bachelor, but I think it got old and the GA wanted him to find happiness and a solid partner for once and finally. I haven’t seen that sentiment towards Eddie (so far). Therefore - find Buck his happiness (Tommy) and have Eddie take on the role of bachelor of the 118.

I’ve been thinking this since the end of the season, but marketing pushing RG has made me think I could be somewhat right

You are right but a little wrong.

With the way Eddie's storyline was left at the end of season 7, it is obvious that the last thing Eddie needs is another LI. He's got issues with his past he will need to address before they even think of giving him a new LI.

You are correct in saying that about the main pairings and the way Buddie would change the dynamics. There are real firefighters and regulation managers on set. Sure, they understand it's television and certain belief must be suspended. However, they are sticklers for the rules.

This could be countered with the Bobby/Athena relationship. Just keep in mind that Athena is a Sargent and Bobby is a Captain so disobeying orders wouldn't be met with as much force as it would for two basic firefighters under the same house.

If Eddie or Buck got hurt, the other one would not be able to take part in helping them. They would be pulled off shift and then the 118 would be down two men.

They would have to separate them and then people would bitch about that too.

They part you're wrong about is Buck being a bachelor is boring to the general audience.

Buck, constantly struggling in relationships, was becoming boring for Oliver. He was dying to have Buck experienced domestic scenes and allowing his character to grow through a mature relationship that wasn't one-sided, like in season 1.

Something I'd like everyone to understand and keep in mind is this:

Yes, this is a procedural on network television. You are not going to get six year slow burns or the characters suddenly saying "fuck it" to protocol. (A secret relationship would be grounds for termination.)

Saying that, Tim and the writers are really drawn to representing their general audience and so far, they have.

Hen and Karen: Hen pursuing college after 40. Karen being a genius yet down to earth person. Lesbians. Cheating. Struggling with having children. Foster system. Adoption.

Maddie and Chim: Domestic violence. Second chance. Chim not thinking he's enough in previous relationships. Medical emergencies. Pregnancy. Therapy. Post-partum depression. New mom fears. Marriage. Miscommunication.

Bobby and Athena: Divorce. Betrayal. Alcoholic. Traumatic pasts. Lost fiancé. Lost family. Accepting love again. Support. Found family. House fire. Co-parenting. Recovery.

Eddie: PTSD. Army medic. Parent to special needs child. Single father. Repressed grief. Straight man unable to connect with woman. Anger issues.

Buck: Abandonment issues. Needs companship. Looking for happiness. Jealousy. Young. Sex addict. Rule breaker. Realized he was bisexual at 32.

Tommy: Came out late in life. Mysterious. Kind. Sarcastic. Defense mechanisms. Was forced to play a part of something he hates for most of his life. Army pilot.

It's important that the audience can see themselves in the characters they love.

[marveloustimestwo]

Hi cutie pie! Congratulations on your 700 followers! 🥳

Can I request Strength and The Magician with Steve Rogers and Peter Parker, separately?

Strength - How outwardly passionate is this yandere around their darling?

Steve keeps a lot of his worse qualities pretty contained. He really only ever wants you to see him as someone you're safe with, someone who's good and kind and worthy of falling in love with. While he is undoubtedly obsessed with you, you'll rarely see the bad parts it brings out of him.

For the most part, to you, he'll be a normal, loving partner. The only thing that could've been an indicator was that he moved a bit fast. He would've known you a few months before asking you out, and then within the span of a few more months, he was telling you he loved you and asking you to move in with him. You might just write it off as him being from a different time, and while that might be partially true, Steve knew that he loved you before he even asked you out.

The Magician - How would this yandere use their abilities/status on their darling?

Steve has no issue using his powers and status as Captain America to his advantage, at least when it comes to his darling. For the most part, it is a last resort. He wants to make you fall in love with him the old-fashioned way; he wants you to be willing in this relationship. In a way, he views you as his retirement, as someone to spend the rest of his already long life with. When you are willing, he'll only use his status as a way to get a nice house in the country where you two won't be bothered ever again.

If you're ever a bit hesitant, he might use a bit of guilt-tripping. He'll slip his past into conversation, talking about his time in the war, what he's lost and given, and how jarring it's been in an entirely new time. Even further, if you're really not cooperating, he'll still get that house in the country, but you'll end up as a prisoner there instead. Who will question the virtuous Captain America for having been apart of your kidnapping?

Strength - How outwardly passionate is this yandere around their darling?

Peter is absolutely not the type to hide how he feels for his darling. He can certainly try, but he will not fool anyone. Peter already wears his heart on his sleeve, so when he becomes as obsessed as he is with you, you'll know it. Trying to hide it is not in the cards for him. Even if you hated him, he'd still believe showing how much he loves you will make you love him back eventually.

So in the early stages, it'll be easy to notice how he stares at you with hearts in his eyes, how he hangs on every word you say, and how invested he seems to be in your life and interests. If you're in a relationship with him, you won't go an hour without Peter telling you he loves you. You may have called him clingy as a friend but as a partner, he has a hard time not being around you. At the very least, he's happy just being in the same room as you doing separate things.

The Magician - How would this yandere use their abilities/status on their darling?

For the most part, Peter doesn't ever use his powers or influence in any truly devious way, at least not intentionally. There will be times when he tries to impress you with his smarts. In an attempt to spend time with you, he'll offer to study with you in any classes you struggle with. He'll also show off his enhanced agility and strength when he knows you're looking.

Later on, however, there could be times when Peter will take advantage of certain things. If you're in danger or your relationship with him is crumbling, he'll use his relationship with Tony to find a place for you. A place that has Karen to watch over you when he's not there, good locks, and enough entertainment to keep you from getting bored. If you're fighting against him, Peter will also use his webs to keep you still for a while. They don't hurt, and by the time they dissolve, you'll have had plenty of time to think or talk things out. There are even a few smaller things that he might do unintentionally, such as coming home with bruises and other wounds or having nightmares that can easily have a person with high empathy weaken over.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

I keep thinking about every fic that you wrote with Tomura being just ANormalDude™ and just the idea of him having a normal job and being behind a counter selling things is so funny to me

Idk it's just something that I can't picture him do, like him being The Co-worker, the one that everybody at work talks about, the one that every new member is warned about the first days, the one always bored that seems one step away from killing a client

But he's also the most reliable person on the job, the one that everybody seeks out if they need an answer or some help and he's just good, like when he isn't there the staff suffers it lol

Sorry for my ramblings, it's a slow shift and I'm so bored

Lol normal Just A Guy!Tomura being a manager at a department store or something, and he is always vaguely off-putting, but people love it when they get to call their manger because Tomura will put the fear of God in the rowdy customers while being cool as a cucumber.

Dabi is the problematic new hire who should have probably already been fired for mouthing off and taking too many smoke breaks, but he hasn't been so far, and he's not gonna question that

And then he runs into Shigaraki at some party that he got called to so he could bring party favors, ending up walking into a play party instead of a house party or something, and cue him seeing Shigaraki domming the fuck out of someone, but he doesn't let them touch and doesn't end up getting off before he spots Dabi and goes to pull him aside and warns him that drug testing is coming up.

Dabi doesn't really give a shit about that when he can see the outline of the other's massive dick in his leather pants and says that he'll suck his dick if he doesn't fire him for this.

To which Tomura says that he can't just not fire him because he wants to fuck him-- because he's already not firing him because he wants to fuck him.

Surprised Pikachu!Dabi still ends up getting fucked 6 ways to Sunday, but he does still get fired when he fails his drug test. Dabi is a little pissy about that, but Tomura offers him a new job as his sugar baby, which is how Dabi finds out that Tomura is from rich mob family and his job is more or less a hobby and half of the 'karens' who come into the store are hit men getting their orders in code.

Absurdity continues to ensue

[fetchen]

more fetchen headcanons ^___^ bcuz i’m bored

(could be dating or pre-dating. frankly it works either way.)

•◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡•

-karen absolutely loves physical touch . this is semi canon but physical touch is her love language

-yk what else is her love language? biting. karen is a biter through and through . it took a while for gretchen to get used to it but now she thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world

-karen is so gentle with her bites tho . it never hurts gretchen and she absolutely adores it because it means karen genuinely really likes her

-karen loves the most random parts of gretchen’s body . her shoulders and her eyebrows come to mind

-if gretchen’s wearing a tank top, trust her shoulders will be covered in faint lipstick marks by the end of the day

-karen sometimes struggles to focus in class because she’s wondering what gretchen’s doing

-gretchen buys literally anything and everything that reminds her of karen . she later gives her those things as gifts

-karen always sends gretchen songs that remind her of her. this results in gretchen listening to the same song on repeat for days on end

-sometimes karen gets distracted while doing her homework and draws little stick figure versions of her and gretchen in the margins getting up to various shenanigans

-karen lowkey thinks gretchen is the hottest person she’s ever met but like she couldn’t explain how even if she tried

-gretchen sometimes pulls karen in by her belt loops if she needs her attention

-karen loves gretchen’s singing voice . she sometimes asks gretch to sing her random songs when she’s over at her place

-they share food and drinks to the point where neither even have to ask . like if karen gets a snack after school, the first thing she’ll do is offer gretchen a bite before even taking a bite herself

-karen remembers literally everything that’s ever happened as long as she’s known gretchen . despite this, she does not remember off the top of her head how long she and gretchen have been friends

-half of gretchen’s closet is just clothes karen’s left at her house . gretchen sometimes wears karen’s clothes absentmindedly

-that said, gretchen starts dressing very differently during senior year. karen is very attracted to this change. (i’m just a futch gretchen liker)

-between eighth grade and freshman year, karen and gretchen got matching promise rings. after regina commented negatively on them, one continued to wear hers longer than the other.

sorry for leaving you with fangst (fetchen angst) at the end .

[baelabong]

“I’m better”

Pairing: plastic!Karen Shetty x plastic!fem!reader

Warnings: Pining, kissing, jealous!Karen, flirty!reader, mentions of s3x, s3x jokes, crude language

—————————————————————————————————————

In the bustling cafeteria of North Shore High School, Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners occupied their usual spot, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Y/N and Regina George. Karen, tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the table, couldn't hide her impatience.

“It’s been five minutes ”, the curly haired girl sighed as she looked across the bustling cafeteria

“Mama, it’s fine. I’m sure she just got held back in class and can’t text you back”, Gretchen said as she patted Karen’s head

Gretchen, always attuned to Karen's whims, nodded sympathetically.

“Not but she’s also been taking up all of y/n’s attention lately. Ugh!”, Karen complained

Before Karen could delve deeper into her complaint, the cafeteria doors swung open, revealing Y/N and Regina strolling in arm in arm, their laughter filling the air. Karen's eyes widened, and she exchanged an exasperated glance with Gretchen. She sat on the edge of her seat and was ready for whatever excuse y/n was gonna say as to why she wasn’t replying.

Y/N and Regina approached the table, their infectious energy preceding them.

"Hey, losers. What’s the gossip also, we’re hanging at my house afterward”, the blonde girl spoke with authority

Karen, trying to mask her annoyance, put on her ditzy persona.

“Oh, you know just waiting for the two of you like always”

Y/N smirked knowingly, sensing the undercurrents in Karen's tone.

The girl wore straight cut jeans that made her look taller than she was, but even then Regina and Karen stood tall when next to the girl, and an off shoulder-cropped top that could pass off as a baby’s t-shirt due to how much it revealed her stomach and shoulders.

“Sorry, got caught up in Regina's thrilling story of how some girl named Janis had an obsession with her.", y/n sat down

Regina laughed, oblivious to Karen's internal struggle.

As the conversation turned to the mundane details of their day, Karen couldn't resist peppering the discussion with subtle jabs, her jealousy veiled by her bubbly demeanor.

"Oh, Y/N, did you get my text? I sent, like, five emojis in a row. So cute, right?"

Y/N, playing along, chuckled.

“Sorry, Karen, got lost in Regina's rant on how she saw Jason working at Taco Bell. You know how it is."

Karen's attempts to hide her jealousy were betrayed by the narrowing of her eyes, but she quickly covered it with a forced giggle.

Gretchen, sensing the tension, attempted to steer the conversation into safer territory.

“Anyway, class was, like, so boring today. Mr. Duvall went on and on about quadratic equations."

Regina rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Ugh, like, who cares about math? I'd rather discuss something important, like which shade of lipstick looks best on me."

Karen, unable to resist a snide remark, interjected.

“Well, speaking of shades, Y/N, I noticed you were wearing a really bold color today. Trying to make a statement?"

Y/N, catching on to Karen's game, raised an eyebrow.

“Just trying to keep things interesting, Karen. Isn't that what you love about me?"

———————————————————————

The next day, Y/N decided to play a lighthearted prank to get Karen to speak up more. She carefully chose her outfit that took her an hour of indecisive choices.

She decided on a skirt that SHOULD have been a dress code violation to the school but isn’t, with nothing but a bra under her cropped cardigan that if she moved too much, anyone would be scared for the button to pop.

Y/n texted Gretchen to pick her up today because she refused to get her license with the excuse that she wanted to stay as a passenger princess (for karen 🗣️🗣️)

Y/N entered the school confidently, ready to see the reaction it would elicit from both Karen and Regina George.

As Y/N strolled through the hallways, the two couldn't help but notice the lingering gazes from their peers. The whispers and nudges followed them like a shadow, heightening the dramatic tension.

Y/n spotted Karen at her pink locker that she glammed up the first day of school. Karen was re-applying her lipgloss as she looked at her reflection in the mirror hung up in her locker. The sound of y/n’s heeled boots clacked and Y/N's eyes met Karen's, a playful challenge embedded within the gaze. Karen, a mixture of surprise and amusement, couldn't help but turn away from the girl, focusing on just applying her lipgloss to avoid looking at the girl.

However, before y/n reached Karen, Regina appeared strutting to the shorter girl, feigning casual conversation while secretly sizing up the outfit.

"Well, well, Y/N. Trying to make a statement today, are we?"

Y/N, playing along with the charade, grinned mischievously.

"Just thought I'd shake things up a bit, Regina. Keep life interesting."

Regina smirked, sensing an opportunity to stir the pot.

"Interesting, indeed. I wonder what Karen thinks about your fashion statement."

Meanwhile, Karen observed the exchange that happened just a meter away from her, an amused glint in her eyes. She approached the scene, pretending nonchalance.

"What's going on here? Am I missing the latest fashion trends?"

Y/N shot Karen a sly look, reveling in the game they were playing.

"Oh please, you look like you want to fuck me.", y/n joked and Regina laughed with

Karen chuckled, her gaze lingering on Y/N with a mix of admiration and desire.

“Well, you certainly know how to keep things exciting. Let me try your top on sometime."

“Maybe, take me out for a drive later and we’ll see”

As Regina and Gretchen sensed the tension they both left, leaving the two girls to figure themselves out.

As school came to an end, Karen pulled up her Pink Porche at the front of the school where Y/N waited while ok her phone.

The girl rolled her windows down and told her to get in.

As Y/N entered, she buckled herself in as Karen started driving.

The pair talked about school that day and they shared laughs and giggles.

At one point, Y/N wanted to pull the curly haired girls strings again. The girl pulled out her purse and took out her lipgloss. She looked into the mirror and carefully re-applied it as she said,

“Oh my God Karen. Earlier at lunch I got held back right and so I missed out on lunch but when I went to find you guys, Regina had already got me my food. Isn’t she just the sweetest”, Y/N said practically drooling over Regina’s actions.

The car came to a halt and Y/N turned to Karen with a sad expression on her face.

Her usually bright persona disappeared and y/n realised.

“What do you like about her anyway. She hasn’t even fucked you like I have and you treat me like we’re just friends”, Karen said with tears welling in her eyes.

Y/n’s expression softened and turned her body to the girl.

“Oh, Kary, I don’t like Regina like I like you-“

“Then be mine”, The girl huffed out

The latter softly grabbed Karen’s cheek as they both leaned close. Karen’s hand found their way to Y/n’s waist, carefully tracing circles on her exposed skin.

Y/n could feel the girls breath on her face as she closed the gap between them two. Their lips moved in sync and Karen leaned forward, making Y/N go back into her own seat, trapping the girl with one hand on the wheel and the other on the girl.

Y/N pulled back quickly as she quickly realised and said,

“Alright that’s enough, I just re-applied my gloss”, she huffed out pouting as a joke.

Karen giggled at the girl as the latter applied gloss on again.

“Woman, are you serious. I just-“, Karen said wide eyed

Y/N leaned in once again and harshly grabbed the girls face, leaving Karen in shock of the girls sudden bold action. Y/n pulled away and fixed up her top as if she didn’t just silence the girl.

“That was one of my life goals, to be kissed by you”

Karen giggled as she reignited the engine and Y/n turned her head to the window pretending she didn’t hear the other.

—————————————————————————————————————

AU: Good lawd

Thank you @candytounge0218 for the idea 🩶🩶