#literally my best fucking friend ram?? he can do whatever he wants forever.

[marklikely]

someone asking "how can people love ram" what you don't understand could fill volumes

[frankiekatt]

Wowy hii, saw that you're writing for slasher, so here I am!

Can I plz have some hcs about any slashers with s/o, but their s/o is a literal gremlin, like they're not serious at all, always joking and annoying people around, but sometimes might be quite soft and quiet.

Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️

This was fun to write lmao

Warnings: Sexual harassment, NSFW, murder, blood, canabilism

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Stu Macher, Michal Myers

Slashers With An S/O That Never Takes Anything Seriously:

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas is a little overwhelmed by your personality at first.

He’s a quiet and reserved man who’s never had any kind of friends, so goofiness and jokes can make him feel uneasy at first.

But!! He gets used to everything very quickly!!!

Thomas loves everything about you and he finds you to be incredibly charming.

He can get a little anxious when he sees you annoying Hoyt because he doesn’t want his uncle to do anything bad to you in irritation/retaliation.

Your jokes are always a stress reliever for him, since he spends most of his days in a dark basement, surrounded by blood and gore. Your humor just shines a little bit of light on his day, and he loves you for that!

While Luda Mae and Hoyt might not like the fact that you never take anything seriously, Thomas finds it relieving. At the beginning of your relationship, Thomas was terrified of losing you because he thought you would be terrified of all screams, murder, and cannabilism, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that you didn’t pay much mind to it.

Thomas’ family mostly saw you as a clown, but Thomas could only ever look at you as the brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced his life.

After all, he was the only one that saw your softer side.

Your soft and quiet side mostly shone through during the evening. Something about the sunset and cicada chirping calmed your heart.

You would often take Thomas by the hand and lead him outside to sit on the front porch with you, so the two of you could cuddle and watch the sunset together.

Thomas was always so used to your voice, because you loved to talk about anything and everything, so your temporary quiet nature was new, yet comforting.

During these moments, there didn’t need to be any talking between the two of you. You deep emotional bond allowed you both to communicate through actions.

You would lay your head on Thomas shoulder, stroking his chest, and Thomas would wrap his big arms around your smaller frame, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head.

This was Thomas’ way of saying, “I love you, you’re the best thing in my life,” and your way of saying “I could never live without you.”

Bo Sinclair:

:|

You’re gonna annoy the fuck out of this boy

Sometimes you both wonder how the two of you even got together, but the nights you and Bo spent pleasuring each other, going round after round, reminded you both how. (Your both just sexy okay its that simple)

Bo was a serious guy, so he was a little miffed that he was always the one having to take the lead in everything since you just couldn’t stop making a joke out of everything.

Sometimes you would actually make him really irritated due to your tendency to irk people endlessly, so he would have to step away to cool off and blow off some steam.

Sometimes he would yell at you in anger, which always made him feel like shit after, so he tended to stalk off to his shop to calm down before speaking to you.

You would have to go see him a couple hours later to wrap your arms around him from behind and shyly apologize to him.

He favored these moments the most.

Your voice quieter than usual, focusing on just him, touching him gently.

He would always accept your apologies, of course, and would let you know by kissing your lips softly.

Bo liked to take advantage of your softer side by lifting you up by your waist and setting you on the hood of whatever car he had been working on and kissing down your neck.

As revenge, Bo liked to draw out his teasing as long as possible. Kissing down your neck, chest, stomach, massaging your pussy through your skirt, palming your breast roughly.

It gets to a point where you just have to tell him, “Bo, I need you to fuck me.”

And he would oblige.

He would take you right then and there, on the hood of the car.

The metal beneath you was always shockingly cold, making you shiver against Bo’s chest.

“You cold, Darlin,” Bo would ask teasingly as he pulled your panties off. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up.”

He would spend hours licking your pretty pink pussy if he could. He licks and sucks and kisses your most intimate part until you're shaking and crying above him, begging him to fuck you sensless.

After he’s satisfied with your helplessness, he’ll lean back up and ram himself inside of you. There have been many nights where he has taken you gently and slowly in his garage, holding your hand with every thrust, kissing your sweet lips to quiet your whimpers, but tonight was different. There was a primal need shared between you two. Bo wanted to let his frustrations on through loving you, and you wanted to be taken hard and fast.

When the two of you are done, you lounge around inside the car to catch your breath, holding hands. Everything seems so perfect.

Until-

“Hey, Bo? What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?”

“.....”

“I want you inside me! Eh ha ha..”

:////

Lester Sinclair:

!!!!!

You like constantly joking and never taking things seriously? He does too!!

Lester would find you absolutely hilarious. Every joke you cracked would have him doubling over in laughter. Which would make you double over in laughter. Which would make Lester laugh harder, because now you both have the giggles and both of your laughs are just too infectious.

Everytime the two of you would go to Ambrose to visit his brothers, you guys would annoy the hell out of Bo and Vincent. Bo just wants to be left alone to work in his shop but instead he’s stuck listening to you tell a 40 minutes story about how you burnt dinner last night.

And Vincent just wants to be left alone to paint and sculpt but instead he’s here listening to Lester crack jokes that are a.) not funny and b.) don’t make any sense. -_-

Your and Lester’s trailer is always filled with so much love and laughter and the two of you could not be any happier.

You both have your own soft and quiet moments that hit at random times.

Sometimes it happens when the two of you are play fighting in the living room, howling with laughter. You both fall to the floor, wrestling and giggling until the both of you run out of breath and just gaze at each other as you lay on the carpet.

“You look so cute,” he giggles.

“No, YOU look so cute!”

“W-well!!! I love you!!”

“Uhm...well...I love you MORE.”

And it just turns into an argument about who adores the other more.

Billy Lenz (1974):

The perfect couple.

Literally.

The two of you are always joking around, cackling and goofing about every little thing.

Billy has finally found his soulmate and he could not be happier.

He two of you prank the sorority girls together, making sex sounds in unison to sound even more vulgar.

Everytime you crack a joke, you get worried Billy is joking because of how hard he’s laughing.

“Umm Billy you okay? It wasn’t even that funny.”

“HA haha...piggy makes me laugh...Billy loves your jokes.”

Needless to say, your relationship is filled with smiles, laughter, and praise.

Billy will tell you you’re the funniest person he’s ever met and he wants to keep you forever.

You tell Billy you love how much he laughs at your antics and that you can’t live without him.

It’s impossible to annoy Billy. It’s just not feasible.

Any time you try, he’ll just giggle and pat your head, telling you you’re his ‘favorite piggy ever.’

He LOVES when you annoy the sorority girls thoug!

Hearing you moan and squeal and speak so sexily vulgarly to Barb and Jess makes Billy so proud. And horny.

Almost all of your sexual encounters are filled with complete silliness.

Sometimes, however, the joking and cackling subside. The two of you will just be chilling, nothing else to do, and you just feel the need to profess your love for your boyfriend.

“I love you so much Billy.”

Billy will look startled at your sudden outburst, before he breaks out in a huge grin, launching across the room to tackle you into a hug.

“Billy loves you too! Billy loves you more than anything!!!”

Now the rest of your day will be spent in Billy’s arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Stu Macher:

Match made in Heaven!

Stu loves to joke around.

He hardly ever takes anything seriously.

He annoys everyone.

And once he meets you? It's love at first sight.

The two of you are always in detention because you guys just cannot shut up in class. You are always disrupting something.

But you know what that means!

Detention dates <3

As long as the two of you together, Stu couldn't care less about where he was.

He and Billy appreciate your habit of not taking anything seriously because once the murders start occuring, you don't think too much about it, never asking questions or arousing suspicion around your boyfriend and his bestie.

When Billy had told Stu his plan to kill Sydney, and asked him if he was going to kill you as well, Stu’s heart sank.

He remembers when he was dating Tatum, just a few months ago, before he broke up with her for you, he had no qualms about killing her,

But you?

He loved you. You were his other half. The one person who understood him, who accepted him. He could never hurt you.

“Nah dude. I’m leaving her out of this.”

That night, he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.

“Stu! (where the hell have you been loca) What’re you doing here?”

The sparkling smile you flash at him and the love swimming in your big, beautiful eyes makes him feel even guitler.

He feels bad that you’re dating a serial killer. He thinks you deserve better, but he would never let you go.

“Hey babe! I just missed you!”

You rushed over to him, dressed in kitty cat pajamas, and hugged him tight. He had only snuck through your bedroom window a couple of times before, and they had all been planned. Seeing him in your room as a surprise made your heart burst with happiness.

Stu led you to your bed and pulled you up onto his chest to cuddle you. It was late, and the both of you were tired. Stu just wanted to lay with you in silence, appreciating your presence.

You didn’t feel like releasing your usual high energy at the moment. Right now, you just wanted to fall asleep on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Michael Myers:

Girl

Michael does not appreciate your antics.

Annoying him is easy, but you would never know that.

He keeps his emotions very private, so when he is annoyed he’ll just stalk away from you.

He does not think you’re funny :(

He does enjoy your quiet moments. He likes to come home when your energy is low.

He’s usually covered in blood when this happens, so you clean him up without cracking a joke which he appreciates.

You’ll turn on a movie for the both of you, and Michael lets you cuddle up with him.

He does like you, he just doesn’t want you to know that...

[moldisgoodforyou]

lost time (chapter one)

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

a/n: while this features rafe, he is almost completely non-canon in this series! also welcome to my new series - I hope you enjoy 😌

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of sex

wordcount: 1.5k

MASTERLIST

______________

“You’re not seriously taking that.” 

Sophie Flint stopped dead in her tracks at the low, slightly amused voice that echoed down the hall. She had the Delta Tau Delta fraternity composite tucked precariously under her arm, which was definitely not fair game, but she had a mission to complete. 

She wasn’t exactly sure why it was a thing for sorority girls to steal things from frat houses. T-shirts, baseball caps, a fraternity composite if you were feeling particularly bold. But in a fun competition her friends on her dorm floor had concocted at the beginning of freshman year, she and her friends had made it their personal mission to collect at least one item from every fraternity, all 27 at Ohio State University. It was the start of her junior year and she hadn’t taken anything but a couple shack shirts so far (and was immediately told that was cheating), but a little pressure from her friends, a Delt party and a handful of White Claws made it the optimal time to act. Go big or go home, right?  

She turned, slowly and put on her flirtiest smile - and dropped the look the second she saw who it was. “Cameron.” Sophie acknowledged him with a mere nod, then started walking straight past him. 

Rafe snagged the edge of the composite immediately, tugging her backward. “Flint. Did you not hear me?” 

She rolled her eyes, keeping a firm grip on the composite. “Heard you loud and clear. Just not listening. I need this.” 

“What could you possibly need a fraternity composite for?” He questioned with raised eyebrows. 

“That’s for me to know and you to not find out.” She told him with a smug expression, curling her fingers tighter around the heavy frame. 

Rafe debated his options. He could let the girl go with a definitely stolen composite that would be kind of a hassle to replace, and let one of the pledges manning the door deal with it. Or he could argue more and watch the way her eyes grew bright and hear her little huff when she disagreed and - nah, it wasn’t worth it. 

He dropped his hand from the frame and lifted it in surrender, his other hand gripped loosely around a red solo cup. “I’m too drunk for this.” (He wasn’t.) “As long as you promise you won’t steal anything else.” 

She smirked. “I don’t make promises.” With that, she was on her way with the prearranged route - down the fire escape by the back hallway on the third floor, where her roommates waited not-so-patiently in the parking lot. 

___________

Rafe and Sophie had known each other since high school back in the Outer Banks, and they had never - ever - gotten along. He had gone to St. Andrew’s all-boys private school while she went to the sister school at Greenville Academy. Both grades were relatively small and students went to each other’s sporting events, combined for the yearly school play, and most importantly - threw parties together, often. The parties were always extravagant, alcohol flowing at some rich kid’s house with an excess of unsupervised teenagers milling around. 

If you asked either one of them where the mutual contempt started, they wouldn’t be able to pinpoint a specific moment. Sophie liked arguing (and instigating) just for fun while Rafe liked proving his arrogance. It was almost a guarantee at every high school party that at a certain point in the night, you could find them at each other’s throats, arguing over the dumbest thing possible. There was a point that it had evolved from coincidental arguments to seeking each other out to start a debate - no one else could go head to head with them quite like each other could - but they’d never willingly admit that.

___________

It had only taken them two weeks for their first argument in college. She strolled up to the makeshift bar in the sticky, dimly lit basement of Delta Tau Delta, way too confident for a freshman, and tapped on the pledge’s shoulder by the jungle juice to request a drink. Rafe Cameron turned around, wearing his backward baseball cap and signature smirk, and his face quickly morphed into shock. 

“Sophie? What the fuck are you doing here?” 

She crossed her arms, somehow already pissed off. They stuck to last names only, he knew that. That was their one unspoken rule they kept when talking - or rather, fighting - back home. “Please tell me you’re visiting a friend here, Cameron.” 

He grinned and spread his arms wide. “Welcome to my home.” 

“Dear god.” She elbowed him aside, serving herself a drink from the Gatorade cooler. “Of course you had to follow me here.” 

He gaped, mouth hanging open in shock. “Follow - follow you?! You’re high if you think I would willingly follow you anywhere, Flint.” 

“I applied to Ohio State, early decision, forever ago. You had to have known. It was my top school and top scholarship.” She shot back, trying her best to hide a grimace as she took a long sip from the sugary-sweet drink, laced with an ungodly amount of alcohol. 

He didn’t miss the subtle brag. “I don’t keep tabs on you. Why didn’t you go to Clemson or something nearby? You know, like everyone else?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Because, dumbass, I look horrific in orange and purple.” She proclaimed like it was an obvious statement. “And I wanted to get the fuck out of the Carolinas.” 

He grinned, completely unfazed by her insult,and lifted his cup to tap hers. “Cheers to that.” 

“Whatever. I don’t want to see you on campus again.” She turned sharply on her heel, leaving with the last word - or so she thought. 

“See you around, Soph!” He called out after her, way too smug for her liking. Typically, he would follow her and antagonize her some more, but as a pledge he was assigned to man the jungle juice for the night. He stayed put, only out of obligation - making a silent promise to himself to check up on her another time. 

___________

She ran into Rafe again one week after the composite incident. Literally. 

In her defense, it was pouring rain. She was just trying to be a good friend and drop her roommate Allie off for class, now that Sophie finally had her own car in junior year, but she was running late as always and in a rush. Sophie swerved around the corner of the business school parking lot just as a big black Range Rover was backing up, and gasped when she heard the tell-tale crunch of metal on metal. Allie winced, clutching her backpack in her lap. “Um…” 

“Just go.” Sophie sighed, knowing she had only two minutes to make it to class on time. Allie muttered a quick apology and dashed out of the car as Sophie dropped her head to the steering wheel with a loud “fuck!” She reached over and grabbed her insurance card from the glove box, then got out of the car, ready to grovel. 

Rafe slammed his door as he got out to inspect the damage. It wasn’t much, more like a quick bump and a paint scratch than anything, but he was already in a mood and this didn’t help. 

“Oh, fuck no.” Sophie cursed lowly to herself as she saw Rafe hunched over by their bumpers. “Great driving, Cameron.” She called out, arms crossed. 

He straightened up, walking over to her with an incredulous look. “Uh uh. This is your fucking fault, Flint. Just give me your insurance card and we’ll call it good.” 

She rolled her eyes and pushed a now-wet strand of hair out of her face. “Except you crashed into me. Ever look in the parking lot before backing up?” 

He scoffed, gesturing her over to look at the cars and waited til she reluctantly followed. “There’s an indent of your front plate in my rear bumper. And there’s about twenty students that probably saw it, want to call in a character witness?” 

“I’m not a bad driver.” She huffed. “That’s clearly your fault.” She was lying, of course - anyone with two working eyes could see she had rammed into him. And with anyone else, she’d be extremely apologetic, even patient. But Rafe Cameron irked her to no end. 

“Yeah, the time you merged your brother’s car into someone else on the highway our sophomore year of high school shows you’re an excellent driver.” He retorted, then started toward her car, opening the door. “Where’s your card?” 

“Hey!” Sophie grabbed his arm, pulling him back. She fished the insurance card out of her pocket and begrudgingly handed it over. “Chill out, it’s right here.” He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the front and the back, then handed it back. He then paused, eyeing her over. She shifted under his intense gaze. “What, Rafe, it’s raining. Hurry up so we can both leave.” 

“I thought you weren’t in the business school. Why are you even here?” 

“I’m not. I’m dropping off a friend.” 

He reached out and swiped a thumb under her eye, and she silently cursed herself for the way she fucking shuddered, like she was desperate or something. He smirked. “Your mascara’s running. Probably ought to fix it.” 

With that, he turned back to his car - enjoying her rare moment of silence. 

[littlefreya]

Bad Reputation

Synopsis: Henry and his girl can’t get enough from one another. They keep finding themselves in rather sticky and lusty situations while other actors are present around them. 🤭

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, exhibition kink, public display of affection, dirty language, slight fingering, daddy kink.

A/N: This is by request made for thigh riding! I see this as a slight sequel to  Putting up a Show and Good Girl just because in my mind they are the same couple. Many thanks again to the marvellous @agniavateira​ for doing the beta! Masterlist is here.

Let me know if you want to be added/removed! Thank you for reading as always :)

PR fucking nightmare - that’s what our managers call us. 

They thought it would go away after our first year of dating. But the sad truth is, Henry just loves to touch, and I’m a hot-blooded woman who loves to fuck shit up. Three years in being married and the line is so goddamn blurry by now; I am never quite certain which one of us initiates it, nor do I even care. 

I see my bear sitting sprawled across the red leather sofas, legs spread open as he can never keep them shut. I know I’m terribly biased but that black tuxedo suit sure as hell looks great on his strong figure, especially with the crooked bowtie and the beard he’s been growing for his new movie role. 

And as if the bad boy vibes and big dick energy he sends everywhere wasn’t enough, the half-empty Grey Goose bottle on the round golden table next to him and the slight sweat that covers his forehead is a red flag that we are definitely getting into trouble tonight. 

Bring it on. 

Armie is sitting right next to him, telling him about some scheme by the gesture he is making with his hands. But I can tell Henry has other things on his mind. I can feel his eyes looking at me even when I am standing far away. Our gazes meet, he offers me a mischievous smile, showing off the large dimples of his cheeks. This is what I call a wet, slippery invention. 

I blush and look away. I mean, I have Rebecca Ferguson holding my forearms. That woman makes me want to invite her into our bedroom, but Henry doesn’t like sharing, not even with women. It doesn’t matter how much I’d pout and beg, he likes me all to himself, and he loves it when others can see that I am his. 

It’s always his hand between my thighs, riding up higher, thumb tickling at my clit teasingly. We sat through an entire acceptance speech with him working me hard. If anyone looks closely at that video on Youtube, you can see the exact moment when he hits the spot.

Sorry, Leo, I wasn’t smiling because you won. 

This is us being subtle. Hotels and parties, however, are a different story. We already had a manager quit on us because we made sure the entire floor hears what we are doing through the night. 

Rebecca kisses me on the cheek, the gorgeous Swedish redhead is already tipsy, and I’ve had my second glass of wine. She’s in a red satin dress, her impressive breasts showing through her cleavage. I also spot a few freckles on her chest. It makes me pout and look at Henry, who shakes his head in refusal. 

“Where is your hubby anyway?” she asks playfully, and I point in the direction of where he is sitting. Armie is just getting up, leaving Henry alone. He pours himself some more vodka, fills the glass with ice and then takes a sip with a lustful gaze. That’s probably my cue to keep him company and take that glass away.  

That video when he told everyone to get naked will forever be online. He also has a tendency to start making impressions of others when he is flustered, and I can’t contain my laughter when that happens.

“He’s too drunk to get up.” I sigh, shaking my head while he makes playful, sad faces at me. I shrug and take my phone out my purse, seeing two text messages from him.

Henry: “Where are you, babygirl?” Henry: “I want to squeeze that ass.” 

I text him back “Armie’s? Go for it. Can we have Rebecca, pleaaaaase?” 

He reads my reply, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in complete refusal. 

“Not. sharing. you. Do you want me to spank you in front of all these people?” 

Rebecca is oddly enough very touchy-feely, her hand sliding down my forearms while she speaks about how wonderful Henry is, and how fun it was to work with him on MI6.

“He’s not like all the other ones, he is an actual friend,” she explains to me, her beautiful green eyes lighting up. 

“I know, that’s how he got me, pretended to be my friend for years.” I chuckle, remembering the times we were still just friends. If you look at videos of us from interviews and photos from events from the time we worked together, you’d think we’ve been dating already. He always touched me subtly, his eyes staring at me intently when I speak. And of course, no one cracks him up the way I do.

But Henry waited 5 years for both of us to be single at the same time to “kidnap” me during a walk with our dogs at the forest, where I’d literally be unable to run away. He did that so he can tell me he’s been in love and growing in love with me ever since we met.

I smile at the sweet memory. I held my tears when that word left his lips.

“I’ll come to say hello later, I’m starving,” she says and rubs her belly gently. I nod and lean forward to kiss her, deliberately kissing her soft, red-painted lips for Henry to see. Us girls, we really don’t mind.

As I turn to face him, he is already frowning. He’s not amused by my vexing behaviour. I give him my best angelic posture, batting my lashes and holding my hands together while my head is tilted to the side. In that pale blue and silver dress, I might look like some saint right now, but my darling knows I’ve come from south to heaven.

I make my way to him, walking slowly, a smile both in my eyes and between my cheeks. I can feel the fire burning in my chest, the sight of him is dashing, those thick thighs ever so inviting. He spreads his legs even wider, the bulge in his groin made only for me. He has his pinky finger pressed between his teeth while checking me out.

My body heeds his calling, I’m tingling wet. 

I stand in front of him, my cheeks warm as if this is a first hook up of some sort. Henry rises his beautiful blues to stare straight into my eyes. The beaming lights in the hall make his sweaty skin glow in neon pink and gold, his eyes flashing bright as the different colours dance across his face.

“How many of those have you had?” I ask, gesturing at the glass, noticing the half-empty bottle. I hope not too much, I expect to be rammed tonight when we return to the hotel. 

He shrugs, putting the glass away without bothering to finish it. He is British, and boy, he can drink a lot. He is not as half as flustered as a different guy would be, but yes, he is certainly quite drunk. Enough to give me that look of his-one eyebrow rising up-while his eyes drink in my dress, cleavage, ass, and that slit that runs from my legs to my thighs.

My friends asked me if Henry is an ass or tits man, to which my answer was “he is ‘all of me’ man.” 

“Gotta love women's liberation.” He speaks in a deep, low voice, gesturing at my provocative dress. 

“Come to daddy.” He demands, holding out his hand for me to come and sit on his thigh. To which I am more than happy to comply.

I spread my legs, moving to straddle his muscular thigh. There is a burning sensation at my core as my pelvis meets his taut muscle. My body always reacts to his touch. Henry’s hands immediately take my face, thumbs stroking at my cheeks.

“Why do you tease me, beautiful?” he murmurs, his fierce gaze tracing my face, always taken by me, memorizing every freckle and flaw as if it’s the first time we ever sit so close. God, he makes me feel so beautiful even in my ugliest of ugly days.

I lean forward to get even closer, my ass riding up his leg and my hands reach out to tug at his white buttoned shirt. “Oh, Henry-Bear, it’s. So. much. fun.”

Someone sits right next to us on the big red sofa, saying a friendly hello. We answer at the same time, without breaking eye contact. We never bother looking who is the actor, producer, or whatever who moved to bug us. Too lost in our own little mist of admiration. Henry’s fingers descend from my face to my neck, fingers skirting down my neck sensually. 

“You know what I love about these ceremonies and parties?” he asks as he leans closer to whisper in my ear and then places a wet, lingering kiss on my shoulder. His chin pushes the straps of my dress away, letting it fall on my forearm as if by accident. I let it glide, shivering as the coarse hair of his beard marks my flesh.

“I get to show you off while you’re wearing these outrageous dresses and everyone knows I am taking you home to fuck you until sunrise.”

I chuckle lustfully, my tongue pressed between my teeth. “Last time we didn’t even make it home remember?” I hum gently, feeling his rough touch on my breasts. The tip of his thumbs circles my nipples, teasing them to harden through the thin fabric of my dress. I wouldn’t give a fuck if Henry had me topless right now and sink his fangs in my tits for everyone to see. But he is far too selfish, I was made for his eyes and his eyes only.

He settles for a “chaste” show, laying a kiss beneath my chin and then pressing his face at my cleavage, inhaling the scent of my body lotion before nibbling at my breast through my dress. His breath smells like vodka-sweet and spicy at once.

“I remember, Cumberbatch saw the whole thing,” he answers, his hands holding my ribs, slightly guiding me to move my body on top of his thigh in ghostlike movements. I am searing hot, my mound feels as if it’s seconds from catching fire. I am certain he can feel it, his blue eyes now hazy and dreamlike as they watch the pink tint that runs through my neck to my cheeks. 

“Fuck me, daddy, I am so horny!”

My whisper comes out as half a cry, weak and desperate. My body is a void, it suffers without his touch, it aches when we’re disjointed. I hope we’ll never stop feeling this way toward one another. 

“Ride me, babygirl.” he urges me, raising his thigh up higher, so I’ll slide down closer. The friction makes me lose sight for a moment. My vision blurs as I throb wet and hot onto him. Good thing his trousers are black, otherwise, everyone would be able to detect the wetness I am leaving on his pants. 

I can’t reject his decree, my body needs him. 

“You like it when they watch, don’t you?” he asks me with a slightly slurred voice. His hands glide down to squeeze my ass, assisting me in dancing on the rock-hard muscle of his leg. I am grinding slow and rough, shifting my weight forward, my right hand reaching his other thigh, clawing at him with growing pleasure.

Everyone is looking at us, I am sure, some embarrassed and perhaps even appalled. How puritan of you Hollywood. These people formed their own religion and hidden sex clubs. But I am convinced many enjoy this facade and discreetly salute us, some probably holding out their cameras.  

I roll my hips up and clench my inner thighs, whimpering as my body begins to tremble.  

It doesn’t matter who is staring while I ride him so passionately, seeking my pleasure with urgency while Henry’s hands support me, saddling my hips and pulling me toward him. We don’t see anyone else. We’re locked into one another, the way we always did, just like when Henry had a girlfriend, when we were “just friends” when I dated that asshole. We’d walk into a room, and it was just me and him, hearts and chest bursting with love.

Every moment we couldn’t have one another was stolen from us, we now fight to own it back.  

“I’d sit you on my face in front of everyone, but I think Gretchen would kill us.” Henry half whispers against my throat and then licks up my neck as I lift my chin to the ceiling with gaping lips. He has his hand between my legs, drawing at my centre and sneaking between the slit of my dress to finish the job. 

“Fuck!” he teases my clit, his middle finger travelling at my seams. My entire existence shudders. The bass of the music blasts through my chest, my eardrums throb, and my eyes see all the colours of the neon at once as my cunt implodes with orgasmic bliss. Henry steals my gasp into his mouth, his hand pressing my cheeks, crushing my mouth with hunger. 

Who could ever hate us for our expression of true love?

I gasp feverishly, holding onto him as if I’m about to fall. Henry’s lips are on my temple and then my cheek. Pressing against me and not moving away. He envelops me in his big arms, a clear statement to all our viewers that I am his and he is mine.  We both move our heads to see who's been sitting next to us this entire time.

Alec Baldwin and Jake Gyllenhaal. They pretend not to stare, at least Alec does. Jake gives us a wide, knowing smile. Everyone else has also been staring as I hear the whispers and gasps. 

“Really? They did that again!?”

We bump our foreheads together and snicker with delight. Like we ever gave a fuck about being caught. It’s not the first time, won’t be the last. We just can’t get our hands off of each other. 

“Better call Gretchen now.” I tell Henry, hanging my arm around his thick neck. 

“Before or after I fuck you in one of the back rooms here?”

[ladyfeldspar]

By the power vested in me by my RNG, I give you...

6x09: Free Hat (aka the reason I broke the second disc of Season 6)

This is hella long, sorry not sorry.

Some days I think season 6 is my favorite season.

Tweek standing behind the other three at the SP sign will never cease to make me happy. <3

I hate ET because I think he's a creepyass little alien and I don't appreciate seeing him first thing in this episode. 😂

Okay but I love when Kyle's saying, "...to make ET more PC," he's doing little air quotes with his one hand, like:

Stan: "That's gay." Back when saying things like that was only mildly offensive and wouldn't cause riots.

I've never seen Saving Private Ryan, and I know that it's said that it can be really triggering for people who have actually been to war and everything and I don't want to diminish that in any way, but whatever I paused on here looks like some kind of nether realm squid ghost monster and it's amazing.

I love the progression of their expressions here: angry, unimpressed, concerned, and "why is this happening?!"

And they're all so excited for Star Wars, that's the cutest fricking thing! I would love to see Tweek and Craig watching Star Wars together, just try and tell me that wouldn't be adorable!

ALL OF THEM ARE SO MAD! I fucking love when Tweek gets the little angry eyebrows.

I will never ever not want to hug him whenever I see Tweek shiver like crazy while the other kids just stand perfectly still.

The message in this episode is actually so good though. "Movies are art and art shouldn't be messed with!"

"Yeah we could form a club that takes food stamps from poor people and then we could sell them back to the government for a profit!" Tweek’s face here is priceless.

Poor Tweek. There's kind of a pattern in these episodes where multiple times he tries to stand up for himself or walk away from the main kids, but Cartman bullies him into staying and it just breaks my heart. As opposed to Craig in the Pandemics who's just like, "Fuck this." And as much as I adore all of the S6 Tweek episodes, I'm really glad he didn't stay hanging out with them for any longer and that he went back to the group of guys that are actually his friends. <3

"I'm not, I'm not a team player!" 😭 That being said, I could listen to Tweek talk all day.

"You have to offer fabulous prizes if you want people to show up to your stupid crap!" is just the S6 version of, "More people will come if they think we'll have punch and pie!" 😂

Stan: "Tweek, you go make fifty hats." Look, okay, I don't hate Stan, all right, but what the hell dude, go make your own hats! Why would you give the anxious kid a big responsibility like that!? At least have Kyle help him or something. Like you say you need to get the gymnasium ready which means what, make a banner and set up some chairs? And you're telling me you couldn't have split up the making of the hats? Jesus Christ.

(Yeah, okay, I know, chill out, they're 8.)

I posted this on my Tumblr before, so I'm not going to do it again, but that TINY LITTLE SHRIEK THAT TWEEK DOES after his dad says his name. I just. Literally. Die. Of cuteness. Every single time. It's my favorite Tweek shriek of the entire show, hands down.

On another note, his bedroom is so empty in this episode compared to in Tweek x Craig! I wonder what changed between here and then.

Tweek being able to calm himself down with some meditation is honestly so cute. And look at his happy place! I would love to have this on a shirt or a bag or just like as a piece of art hanging on my wall or something.

Cartman's giant face showing up there. 😂 I remember the first time I saw this episode that actually startled me so much.

"I was up, all night, making hats! I only slept for an hour- and then I DREAMT about making hats! But I only made fifteen!" - This has been one of my favorite lines since forever. I make it my status on things a lot and then everyone asks me why I was making hats all night. 😂

I love Stan's expression here.

"I don't have nearly 1000 hats!" "They're gonna kick your ass, Tweek!" 😡😡😡

Look at this shot! It really looks like Stan is the only one remotely concerned about Tweek's well-being here.

We get so much of Tweek yanking on his hair in this episode. </3

How am I less than five minutes into this and I have talked this much?

The townspeople are literally so stupid. Good job, Skeeter.

Stan makes good speeches when he wants to. Although, you know, you shouldn't make promises without fully knowing what you're doing.

Only Tweek would think going on a TV show is terrible news. (Just kidding. I agree with you, Tweek.)

I've never understood the "1-2-3, dibs!! "Knee!" thing. Like I know what dibs is, but where I come from knees were never involved.

Typical Cartman. I feel so bad for Tweek, but I love when he looks down to see "Advocate of Toddler Murder" underneath him. Cartoon logic is the best logic.

There's also a lot of good Tweek shrieks here too.

"It's easy!?" "Yes... It is easy."

"We believe that films have to be taken away from people like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas because they're insane." The way Kyle matter-of-factly delivers this line kills me every time.

They honestly made SS and GL look so creepy. 😂

I like that Cartman's voice kind of cracks when he's like, "That's Steven Spielberg and George Lucas!"

Someone just let Tweek go home, please!

"Uh, we thought we were speaking for the children." "Yeah, we're children."

"I'm not a Jew!" 😂 Thank you, George Lucas.

Okay, full disclosure, when I first saw this I hadn't seen Raiders of the Lost Ark and I didn't get the big deal. 😂 But I do now!!!

"He...killed 23 babies in self-defense?" "Hat was attacked maliciously and unprovoked by a gang of babies in West Town Park. When that many babies get together they can be like pirahna!" 😂 I say this all the time.

Skeeter. 😂 Honestly, you are no help at ALL.

Second time this episode Tweek tries to say no and walk away.

"People aren't that into you, Tweek. They find you kind of annoying." This is so meta because I remember people complaining all the time that Tweek was a one-note character and that he had nothing really to add to the show and I just want to say SUCK IT TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE BECAUSE LOOK HOW LOVED TWEEK IS NOW. Everyone who was on board the Tweek train from the very beginning say, "Cupcakes!" 😂<3

These kids, man. I love that it’s so easy for them to just get into all these places.

"Get it, Tweek!" "Huh-uh!" I love the way Tweek says no. But, I mean, AGAIN, he tries to say no and Cartman bullies him. I don't think he ever really wanted to be in their group in the first place. I think they picked him arbitrarily in Professor Chaos because they saw him as weaker than them, and then Cartman just didn't let him quit.

The little debate about melting his icy heart with a cool island song is also something I quote often. AND THEIR LITTLE OUTFITS! I love that Tweek's is green and pink! I don't know what the hell is going on with the sleeves on everyone else's though.

"Those rams can do to us what they will, Mr. Lucas." 😂

Oh, George Lucas. You were so close to being a hero.

Stan: "Fuck you Steven Spielberg!" I've watched this censored so many times that hearing it uncensored is so fricking satisfying.

RUN TWEEK RUN!!!

The walkie talkies are such a nice touch. 😂

"The one with the cocaine problem escaped, Mein Director."

Mannn, I miss when they used to throw live action "commercials" into the episodes like this. This also is from the time where I was like hella attracted to Trey Parker so seeing his face is always welcome. 😂

"We always meant to have Imperial Walkers and giant Dewback lizards in the background, but simply couldn’t afford it."

Oh my God, I'm always so proud of Tweek for talking to this huge crowd of people and trying to get them to help him! His little talking through his teeth, like, "We are not talking about Hat right now, okay?!" He's trying so hard!

"Oh God, I'm gonna have to do this myself! Oh, God!" just breaks my heart! YOU CAN DO IT, TWEEK! 13 seasons from now you'll have someone who helps you believe in yourself, just hang on!

Tweek with the bazooka, oh my gosh, always makes me so happy. I can't tell you how much I wanted him to just blow them all the fuck up the first time I saw this.

"All I want are my friends. Except for Cartman, you can keep him." YEAH, TWEEK!

I hate that Steven Asshole Spielberg manages to talk enough crap to make Tweek hesitate. He was so close! I wonder how he would have felt if he actually did it though, Maybe it's better he didn't? It might have made his anxiety worse if he actually blew people up now that I think about it.

"In the tropical isles with the coconut trees, the air is fresh and the people are free, but here in the mountains there's no freedom like that, there's a man in prison and his name is Hat!" This gets stuck in my head so often.

It makes it so much better having actually seen Raiders, especially for this part. I honestly thought the melting faces was just a South Park thing but nope.

I also really love what they look like turned away with their eyes closed too. <3

Like what even is going on in this scene. 😂

Oh my God, okay, and I know that Hat is a terrible person and I want to clarify just in case, I do not think killing babies is funny, but just the way that baby crawls up the person's arm to avoid getting passed to Hat is always so so funny to me and I can never explain why.

Tweek being the only one to be appropriately horrified by the fact that Hat is being given a baby.

"Sometimes the things we do don't matter right now. Sometimes they matter later. We have to care more about later sometimes, you know? I think that's what separates us from the Steven Spielbergs and George Lucases of the world." This is still so relevant.

The ending of this episode is also so much better after actually seeing Raiders. 😂

And we close off with a 9/11 joke. Perfection, Matt and Trey, thank you & goodnight.

[master-sass-blast]

Salt of the Earth

Well. Hello. Welcome to my salt.

So, this is a fic that definitely fits into the series and everything, but it is also a direct byproduct of my salt at Netflix cancelling “The Punisher.”

It’ll make sense once you read the fic.

Rated T for: Multiple injuries, car accident (singular), kidnapping, mentions of child abuse, and just angst in general.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader (and kinda sorta Frank Castle x Karen Page; it’s not outright stated, but it’s very strongly implied that they like each other).

Song lyrics are from “Zombie” by Bad Wolves; bible verse is Matt. 5:13.

@marvel-is-perfection

“It’s the same o-ld thing/ in 2018/ In your head/ in your head/ they are dying…”

You sing along with the music blaring through the store speakers under your breath as you glare at the stack of sketchbooks sitting on the shelf in front of you. You’re at an art store in the small town area Piotr likes going to for outings –the very same place the two of you had your first date, in fact—and you’re trying to pick out a good birthday gift for your dearly beloved boyfriend.

 Because Piotr is, without a doubt, the world’s most fantastic boyfriend, and you are not about to be shown up by your own partner.

 You know, not to mention the fact that you want to get him something good. Something he’ll like.

 So, first step. Art store. Always a good place to start, considering that Piotr is an artist and loves getting any art related gifts.

 And, bonus! You can get there legally, without Piotr’s help, because you have a driver’s license! One hundred percent legally obtained! Go you!

 The money in your bank account that will be used to buy the gift/gifts isn’t legally obtained, because it’s a mix of funds from Wade and your uncle, but the cashier isn’t going to know that and you know Piotr isn’t going to berate you for it because he understands that your situation’s a little –a lot—fucked up to begin with.

 Anyway. Back to the point

 You’ve made it to the art store. You are currently in the art store. You are exactly where you need to be –which, if it wasn’t clear, is the art store.

 Unfortunately, there are no steps after “get to the art store” because you have no idea what you’re doing.

 Yes, you do art; you’re not on Piotr’s level, but you hold your own –and, dare you say it, but you’re improving!

 But Piotr’s always handled the ‘supply buying,’ as it were, and now that you’re staring down what seems like thousands of options, you’re completely lost at sea.

 Okay, you tell yourself. Think. What does he need replaced?

 Pens. He’s always burning through pens –and erasers, come to think of it—with how regularly he uses them.

 You smile to yourself as you dart over to the proper aisle. I’m gonna own the fuck out of this.

Once you get your footing, you nail the shopping session. You’re gonna have to hide the receipt from Piotr because you definitely went a little nuts, but he deserves and you have more than enough money so why not?

You hum happily along to the pop song of the moment as you drive back to the mansion, gifts safely tucked in the shotgun seat of your car. You’re flying down the highway –not literally, in the sense that you can actually fly or the sense that you’d be speeding—and—

 There’s not a single other car in sight.

 And that’s… a little weird. It’s early afternoon on a weekend. You’d think you’d see more travelers on the road.

 Before you have too much time to overthink it, a massive black SUV comes up on your tail out of nowhere.

 You yelp and lay on the horn when it rams into your bumper. “What the fuck, asshole?” You wrench the wheel, trying to stay on the road, and press the gas pedal down harder.

 The SUV keeps pace with you, barely keeping off your back bumper as it tails you down the empty road.

 You honk again and shift into the other lane before slowing down.

 The SUV simply speeds ahead –and spins so that it’s sitting across both lanes of the highway, right in your path.

 You shriek as you stomp on the brakes, but it’s too little, too late.

 Your car slams into the side of the SUV, and everything goes dark.

The first thing you register is pain. So much of it, everywhere. Your head feels like it’s been put in a vice until it cracked, and your ribs ache with every breath you take.

The second thing you register is that you’re laying on your side in some sort of cramped, stuffy compartment. You can’t sit up, can’t really even move without bumping into a barrier of some sort.

 The third thing you register is that whatever you’re in is moving.

 Oh, dear sweet Cthulhu have mercy, I’m in the trunk of a car. You groan as you check your pockets for your phone and swear when you come up empty handed. “Shit! Okay, taillight. Find one of the taillights.”

It takes forever, between the pain you’re in and the cramped quarters, but you manage to find one of the taillights. You rip the carpet covering it away, then use your powers to punch it out.

You’re in a city, which is better then being on some backroad in the middle of the woods. City means people, which means phones, which means you’ve got a shot at calling someone and getting back to the X-Mansion. You suck in the fresh night air –you’ve been out for a while, which isn’t good—and try to formulate some sort of a plan. Maybe they’ll hit a light soon, and then I can break the hood open and get out—

The sound of tires screeching fills the air, followed by a heavy burst of gunfire.

You suck air through your teeth –part in surprise, part in pain—as the car comes to an abrupt stop.

“The fuck was that?” one of your abductor’s voices shouts from the cabin of the car, muffled but extremely pissed off.

You know about as much as they do, it would seem, and while you’re not fond of getting out of the car while there’s active gunfire, you know you’re not gonna get a better chance.

You slam the hood of the car open, sending it flying into the air, and bolt for the nearest alley before your kidnappers can react. You barely make it two feet into the shadows before you collapse against a wall, head spinning with blinding pain. Fuck. I think some of my ribs are broken. You pant and gasp through the waves of agony, trying to keep from vomiting.

“Where’d she go?”

“She won’t have gotten far. Find her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuckfuckuckfuck—

You grit your teeth and fly up to the nearest roof top. You do actually vomit –and almost pass out in it—once your feet hit the flat, paved surface. You collapse to your knees, arms shaking, and groan as you force yourself to your feet. Push through it. Come on. You need to find a way to call Piotr.

You manage to run across the roof top, away from the sounds of your kidnappers’ voices, tears stinging your eyes at every jolt your body takes. You round a corner, hoping to find some sort of door inside—

You run into a black clad figure –literally, full body contact and everything—and scream as the two of you go down together. Adrenaline surges through your system, and you lash out at the person wildly.

“Woah –woah! Hey!”

You stop with a gasp when you see Frank Castle’s face –a little bruised and bloody, but not too much worse for wear considering his line of work—staring down at you. You groan and go limp. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“The fuck happened to you?” he grunts as he scans your various injuries.

“Car crash. Kidnapped.” You wince. “You know, the usual.” You flinch when you hear the voices of your abductors shouting –they’re getting closer—and shoot Frank a desperate look. “I need help. Please. I lost my phone, I can’t call anyone for help—”

He pulls you to your feet and hooks one of your arms over his shoulders so he can support some of your weight. “I’ve got a van in an alley nearby. Let’s go.”

You do your best to keep pace with him and look over your shoulder jerkily when you hear more gunfire. “The fuck is that?”

“I made some friends,” he grunts as he guides you across the dark rooftop. “Left.”

“Sure sounds like it.” Gunfire pierces the air again –closer, you’re both being closed in on—and you shift your arm so that it’s around his waist and squeeze him against you as much as you can. “Which way’s the alley?”

“West, two blocks –Christ!”

If you were feeling better, you’d smirk at Frank’s exclamation when you launch the two of you into the air. As it is, you grimace and focus on not crashing into anything or dropping your only ticket out of here –here being Hell’s Kitchen, apparently.

You manage to find said alley and van –both of which could be charitably described as ‘creepy looking.’ You and Frank tumble to the cracked pavement, and then you’re retching against the dirty asphalt like a cat trying to hock up the biggest hairball of its life.

Frank gets you up on your feet an into the passenger side of the van in a matter of seconds. He mumbles an apology as he buckles you in, then gets into the driver’s side equally as fast and starts the engine.

“I’m gonna apologize in advance,” you gasp. “In case I throw up in your van.”

Frank makes the grunt equivalent of a shrug as he peels out of the alleyway. “Not the worst thing it’s seen.” 

He stops behind a massive apartment building about fifteen minutes later, cutting the engine as he unbuckles himself and opens the door. 

“What’re we doing?” you mumble. Now that you’re sitting down and not actively working on getting away from your kidnappers, exhaustion’s setting in. Fast.

“Can’t use my car to get’cha where you need to go,” Frank explains as he unbuckles you and half-drags, half-scoops you out of your seat. “We’ll need to borrow a ride. That, and you need some first aid for your head faster than you need a ride home.”

You frown as you touch your head, then blink when your hand comes away red and sticky. “Oh. Party.”

Frank chuckles as helps you stagger towards the fire escape. “Always is.”

“Wait, you’re gonna make me fucking climb all that?”

“Guy like me can’t exactly use the front door.”

“How high up are we going?”

“Floor fourteen.”

You give him a flat look. “I hate you.”

He chuckles again. “That how you thank all your rescuers?”

“It is if they make me climb up fourteen floors after going through a car accident.”

“Suppose that’s fair.”

You wince as you hook your arm around his waist again. “You’re gonna have to count; I need to focus on not dropping us.”

You manage to get up to the correct floor without dropping Frank once. He does, though, have to practically drag you to the right window. You whimper as he sets you down and taps on the glass pane.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hang in there.”

You can hear movement inside the apartment, and then the window opens.

A slim woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and wide blue eyes gives the two of you a horrified look. “Frank –what the fuck?”

He jerks his head at you. “She needs help.”

You stick out your hand –it’s not like you’ve got any better options. “I’m Y/N.”

Karen shakes your hand before backing away from the window so Frank can lift you inside. “I’m Karen Page. Let me grab my first aid kit.”

“I’ve got it,” Frank says as he shuts the window. “She needs a phone to call her boyfriend.”

“I lost mine in the car crash.”

It says something about Karen that she doesn’t even blink at your comment. Instead, she digs her phone out of her purse, unlocks it, and hands it you. “Here.”

“Sorry if I bleed on it,” you mumble as you dial Piotr’s number –you mentally thank your uncle for making you memorize phone numbers from an early age on—and try to avoid smearing Karen’s phone with blood as you lift the speaker end to your ear.

“It’s fine.” Karen nods in the direction that Frank went. “I guarantee you he’s done worse.”

The phone rings a few times before Piotr picks up. “Ya sluchu vas.”

You start crying; after the day you’ve had, hearing his voice is the best damn thing in the world. “Piotr?”

His reaction is immediate, relief so evident in his voice you can practically see the expression on his face. “Y/N, where are you? I have been trying to reach you all day—”

“I got in a car crash; some chickenshits tried to run me off the road, and then they threw me in the trunk of a car, and—”

“What? Slow down. Wait, are you safe? Where are you?”

You groan as Frank and Karen help you sit on her couch, then laugh when you realize how fucking ridiculous the story you’re about to tell is gonna sound. “Yeah. You’re not gonna believe who I ran into.”

Frank takes over the phone once you’ve recapped everything for Piotr and reassured your darling boyfriend that, yes, you’re as okay as you can be and you’re in a safe place; he works out the details of how you’re getting back to the mansion while Karen works on getting you relatively cleaned and patched up. 

And Karen, to her credit, doesn’t seem all that alarmed by your –or Frank’s, for that matter—injuries. Concerned, yes, and maybe a little strained, but not scared.

She smiles weakly when you remark as much. “Yeah, well, you can’t really let all this freak you out to much if you associate with him.” She nods at Frank again.

“I didn’t think the Punisher had associates,” you mumble as she applies another bandage to what seemed to be a nasty cut on your forehead, if Frank’s and Karen’s reactions were anything to go by.

She huffs out a laugh at that. “I didn’t either, until I realized that I was one of them.”

“Yeah… yeah. No, we’ll get ‘er to you. Probably safer that way… nah, I’m sure. We’ll finish getting ‘er stable, and then I’ll drive her out. See you in a bit, Rasputin.”

You peer up at Frank as he ends the call and hands the phone back to Karen. “How’re we getting out of here?”

“I’ll drive you back once you’re patched up.”

Karen snorts and gives him an incredulous look. “I don’t remember saying you could ‘borrow’ my car. Again.”

“I’ve got a ride—”

“What, your murder van?”

You giggle; it’s an apt description, really.

The corner of Frank’s mouth turns up –and holy shit the Punisher is actually smiling. “What’s wrong with it? It’s got four wheels, it drives, it brakes, it steers. What more do you want?”

“Upholstery that doesn’t have bloodstains on them?”

“Aw, c’mon. It adds character.”

And, even with your probable concussion, you can tell that Frank and Karen are flirting. Hardcore flirting, even.

And that’s… interesting. You knew that Karen had to be someone that Frank trusted to even go to her in the first place, but you hadn’t banked on him liking her, too.

“Frank, you won’t be in Hell’s Kitchen. If you drive Y/N to the X-Mansion in your murder van, people are going to call the police. We’ll take my car.”

“‘We?’”

Karen shoots him a defiant look. “You aren’t ‘borrowing’ my car again, Frank.” She moves out of the way so he can take over your ‘patching up’ and disappear somewhere out of your field of vision.

Frank crouches in front of the couch, still grinning as he rifles through Karen’s first aid kit. He pauses for a minute –and you recognize the look on his face as the ‘I’m about to be a little shit’ expression, which you’ve learned to identify from spending so much time with Wade—then says “Technically, I didn’t borrow it the first time.”

“Not helping your argument, Castle.”

You bite back a smirk as Frank huffs out something that, on another person, might be a chuckle. Very interesting.

Once Frank declares that you’re unlikely to bleed on the interior of Karen’s car, she and Frank help you down to the parking garage of her apartment building. Frank crawls into the back with you –to make sure you don’t fall asleep, given your probable concussion and whatnot—while Karen gets into the driver’s seat and turns the car on. 

You wince as you try to sit in a way that doesn’t hurt, then give up on it and settle for letting your head rest against the car door. 

You’re tired. Now that you’re not running for your life or in the warm glow of Karen’s apartment, all you can process –feel—is your exhaustion. You haven’t eaten since breakfast, you’re uncomfortable, and every single tiny move you make hurts.

You are, however, wearing one of Frank’s hoodies; Karen had produced it from somewhere in her apartment –add that to the list of interesting details about whatever dynamic Frank Castle and Karen Page have going on—and wrapped you in it to hide the worst of your injuries from any passersby. It’s ridiculously soft, funnily enough, and is only adding to the exhaustion weighing down on you. You nestle yourself in as much as you can to the back seat of Karen’s car and make to close your eyes.

“Hey. Hey, hey! Do not fall asleep right now!” Frank grabs your hand and squeezes hard enough to be uncomfortable. “Keep your eyes open, you hear me?”

“Fuck you, I’m tired,” you whine. You open your eyes anyway.

“How’d you end up running into Frank?” Karen asks from the front seat as she carefully navigates out of Hell’s Kitchen. “You said something about crashing your car?”

“I didn’t crash my car,” you grouse. “Some assholes pulled out in front of me on a highway and stopped.”

“And no one called the police? Or an ambulance?”

“I’m pretty sure it was all planned ahead of time. The highway was dead empty just before it happened.”

The car goes silent for a moment, and then Karen says in a voice that’s just a little too steady “I knew working with the X-Men could be dangerous, but I didn’t think things were that crazy.”

“I don’t think it had anything to do with them,” you admit. “I’m not really an X-Man, either.”

“But you live at the mansion. And you’re a mutant.”

“I am, but being at the mansion is more for my own safety,” you say with a bitter laugh. “I, uh, grew up in an anti-mutant home. Left once I figured out there was a place that would accept me.”

“You think it had something to do with your parents?” Frank asks.

“I mean, they’ve sent bounty hunters after me before,” you grumble. “It’s not like it’d be the first time.”

Frank tenses next to you. “Who are you parents, ‘xactly?”

You don’t have to guess about why he’s suddenly so uptight. This is the man that spends his life gunning down gangs and crime families and other scums of the Earth; if you were him, you’d be worried about what sort of shit the person you randomly helped save might drag into your life—

Or the life of someone like Karen Page.

If there’s really something going on there, you muse, he’s gonna be protective of her. “They’re no one. Just a couple of assholes who didn’t want their kid when she was growing up, but now that’s she gone they’ve figured out they don’t want anyone else having her either, much less for her to have a life where she’s happy.” Tears start stinging your eyes, and then they’re trickling down your cheeks as you start crying. “They used to lock me in my room –my dad would beat with a belt when I had trouble controlling my mutation—” You choke back a sob, then pain racks through your body from the movement jarring your ribs.

There’s the click of a seatbelt unbuckling, and then Frank’s sliding over so he’s next to you, holding your shoulders steady so you don’t jerk yourself around unnecessarily. “Hey, hey. Deep breaths. Easy.”

“I can’t ‘breathe deep,’ asshole,” you say with a choked laugh. “Ow.”

“Is abuse really all that common towards mutants?” Karen asks from the front seat. “Not that I don’t believe you or believe it happens, it’s just… disheartening to think about.”

“Unfortunately, it is,” you say as Frank slides back to his seat and buckles himself in; you’ve calmed down again, which means you don’t need to be restrained. “There’s obviously the good families, but we’re kind of scum to society. Freakish abominations.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with you,” Karen insists. “You’re just people.”

You let out a dark laugh. “Tell that to the founders of Harmony.”

Frank’s eyes are on you again. “What?”

“An anti-mutant settlement about an hour from Xavier’s. They actively kill any mutants they can get their hands on; they’ve got a compound out in the middle of the woods where they do it.” You go quiet for a moment. “They would’ve killed Piotr, if we hadn’t rescued him.”

“I didn’t realize things were that bad,” Karen says softly after a moment. “How are people even getting away with that shit?”

“How do people get away with committing atrocities anywhere? They think they have a right to hurt people, and others agree with them. Unfortunately for us, the ‘others’ who agree with them happen to be the people in power.”

The car goes silent again, and something tells you that the wheels in Karen’s head are turning. You don’t know her that well –don’t know her at all, really—but something tells you that the woman that Frank Castle is –seemingly—interested in isn’t the type to roll over all that easy.

Then, Karen clears her throat. “Who’s Piotr?”

You smile softly. “He’s my boyfriend. He’s the one I called at your apartment. I was actually out getting him some presents for his birthday today.”

“That’s sweet. What were you getting him?”

“Art supplies. He’s an artist, so I like to help keep him stocked up.” You blink owlishly when you realize that the bags with everything you’d bought are probably still in the wreckage formerly known as you car. “I’m gonna have to rerun that errand. Right after I get a new ride.”

“It’ll all work out,” Karen reassures you. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Uh…” You try to figure it out, even going as far as to count it out on your fingers—

“She’s concussed, Karen. Maybe don’t make her do math,” Frank says with a chuckle.

“It’s been longer than a year,” you add. “Definitely longer than a year.” You think for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. “Y’know, I never thought I’d find anyone. I grew up thinking I was unlovable.”

“Anyone can be loved,” Karen says.

If it were any other situation, you’d write it off as a supportive statement.

But Karen’s voice is just a little too pointed, a little too intentional, and Frank suddenly gets very interested in staring at his shoes.

Probable concussion or not, you know you’re not seeing things. But, there’s nothing you can do or say now that won’t make things awkward, so you tuck it all away for later, for when you can dish it all out to Ellie, Wade, and Yukio to get their opinions on it all –which, to be clear, you’ll only do because you know they’d never blab about it.

But yeah, later. Right now, all you want to do is get back home to Piotr.

Karen keeps you talking for the rest of the ride, asking questions about Piotr and your new life at Xavier’s until she pulls up the gravel drive of Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters.

The front door opens before Karen even puts the car into park and then Piotr’s sprinting out towards you, followed by a couple of healers.

Frank gets out and directs him to the side where you’re sat—

And then the door’s opening, and Piotr’s there next to you, and you’re both crying.

A couple that cries together, stays together. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

Frank helps Piotr unbuckle and get you out of the car, and then you’re being made to lay down on a stretcher by one very blue, very furry Dr. Hank McCoy.

“Hey, doc,” you manage. “How bad do I look?” 

“I’ve seen worse,” he says with a small smile. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

You can breathe without your ribs hurting.

It’s the small things in life, really.

Lucky for you, aside from the fractured ribs –and the concussion; you did, in fact, have a concussion—there weren’t any other major injuries. The healers fix you up, Hank checks you over, and then you’re being discharged with a meager amount of painkillers to help with the stiffness and soreness that’ll linger for the next few days.

It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been so much worse.

Piotr sticks by your side for all of it; he holds your hand, lets you squeeze his when you need to, and offers encouragement when he can.

Hank leaves so Piotr can help you get dressed in clean clothes, and you start crying as soon as the door closes.

Piotr’s by your side in an instant –not that he had wandered far from it in the first place. “Moya lyubov’, what is it? What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You mash your face against his shoulder and sob. “I’m sorry –I’m sorry that I didn’t call, and that I worried you, and that—”

He’s quick to shush you, gentle and loving as he rubs soothing circles on your back with his hands. “Nyet, nyet, nyet. This was not your fault, myshka.” He kisses the top of your head. “Let’s get you dressed, and then let’s get you food. Da?”

You sniff loudly and nod. “Yeah, okay.”

He kisses each of your eyelids. “What sounds good?”

“I want a burger. With fries.”

He chuckles and kisses the bridge of your nose. “Khorosho.”

“A lot of fries. Like, a metric ton of fries.”

He laughs again and helps you start changing out of your shirt. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Karen and Frank, surprisingly enough, are still around when Piotr walks you over to the main side of the Institute. Karen’s talking to Professor Xavier while taking notes in a little notebook, while Frank just generally looks uncomfortable and seems to be set on finding the best places to stand that’ll draw the least amount of attention to him. 

He also looks a lot better, too, which means the healers must’ve gotten a hold of him.

Good.

Karen looks shocked when she sees you. “Oh, wow. I didn’t think you’d be walking at all.”

“I’ve always bounced back quick,” you say with a shrug. “But having healers that can literally make your wounds close themselves by touching you doesn’t hurt things either.”

She nods. “Yeah, I bet they don’t.”

Frank rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifts in a grin anyway.

You manage to make eye contact with him –no small feat, since he seems hellbent on memorizing the grain of the wood flooring—and nod in greeting. “Thanks for helping me out.”

He nods back. “Any time.”

“You guys alright? You need anything to eat?” You point in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m gonna have a burger—”

“Actually, we should probably head out,” Karen says. “I’ve got work tomorrow, and I still have an article that I need to wrap up before morning hits.”

The relief on Frank’s face at being given an out is palpable, so you drop it. “Alright. It was nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me bleed on your couch.”

Karen laughs and nods. “No problem. It’s definitely not the worst thing that couch has ever seen. Hopefully, if we run into each other again, it’ll be under better circumstances with less blood involved.”

“We can always hope.” As you watch them leave, an old memory flashes into your mind’s eye:

“You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men.”

Normally, any memories from your childhood are liable to send you reeling –especially any that connect to the countless times you were dragged into your town’s church and told, over and over, how you were a perversion of God’s creation.

But now, instead of panicking, you can’t help but regard Frank and Karen in quiet contemplation as they walk out the front door of Xavier’s; the two people that, without really knowing you or having any investment in your wellbeing past the general goodwill that decent humans possessed, had spent the past couple of hours helping you get to safety.

After a life of being beaten down –specifically by non-mutants—it’s an interesting turnabout.

You smile to yourself, just a little, as you watch Frank open the door for Karen and usher her out into the night. Salt of the earth indeed.

You wind up on the couch, nestled against Piotr’s side, happily munching on your burger while the two of you watch old Mythbusters reruns. 

(You did, in fact, get a small mountain of fries –and decent servings of fruit and vegetables, because Piotr made your plate for you.)

“How are you feeling?” he asks, voice soft as he kisses the top of your head.

“Sore. Tired. Hungry.” You set your burger down. “I’m gonna need a new phone. I lost mine in the crash.”

He rubs a hand up and down your back. “We’ll get it figured out.”

“I’m gonna need a new car, too. And to replace everything in my purse.”

He wraps his arms around you as you start shaking and presses his lips against your shoulder. “Breathe, myshka. Everything will be taken care of.”

Your lower lip trembles and you squeeze your eyes shut. “I had presents for your birthday picked out and everything. I lost those, too.”

He kisses your temple, then your forehead. “I would rather have you than presents.”

“Yeah, I get it, I just—” You sniffle and rub your hands over your face. “I’m just upset about it. I get it’s not even that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but I still just—”

He gently settles you in his lap when you start crying and rocks you back and forth. “It is okay to be upset. You had upsetting day.”

“I was just really happy with what I picked out, and now I’m not gonna be able to leave the mansion again until we figure out who went after me and why, and I really just want to be able to buy you a birthday gift, dammit.”

“I am very flattered, myshka, but trust me when I say it does not matter to me. I will not be hurt if you cannot get me gifts.”

“I know, but it matters to me.”

He goes quiet at that, opting to just hold you and rock you back and forth while you cry.

It’s been a shit day. Your car was totaled, you were kidnapped after being forced into an accident, you had to spend over an hour in the medical bay at the mansion to get your ribs patched up, and now you’re down a phone, an ID and debit card, a car, and your gifts for Piotr.

You know that you’re lucky. That things could be much, much worse. That if you hadn’t run into Frank on that rooftop, you’d probably be in the trunk of another car right now.

You’re alive, you’re healed, and you’re back with Piotr. You’ve got a lot to be grateful for.

And, in the morning, you will be grateful for it.

But it’s been a shit day, and right now all you want to do is cry over the fact that you can’t buy your boyfriend a damn replacement birthday present.

So that’s what you do. You’ve earned it.

Crying’s healthy, anyway.

[demicorpse]

My qualms with the Animorphs ending. (Spoilers, duh)

So. Around a week ago I finished all 54 of the core Animorphs books, and like many, I was pretty disappointed by the ending. I’d even go as far as to say I was angry about it. Not angry enough to write a rant tweet at the main author, but angry enough to rant about it on a tumblr post where 10 people might see it and agree with me. I’m going to list some of the main issues regarding the last few books, as well as the final book itself. Let’s take it from the top.

The Auxiliary Animorphs.

On paper? This doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Writing in a bunch of handicapped kids and giving them cool powers, while also slowly developing them and not focusing on just their disabilities? Sounds great! Only Applegate didn’t exactly understand what that meant. The Aux. Animorphs are introduced in book 50, The Ultimate, and after a big battle, they’re almost immediately moved to the sidelines. They’re mentioned in passing as ‘James and his group’ when they’re needed to provide a distraction or maybe fight some kind of battle, but other than that, and maybe some characterization of the kids in book 50, we don’t learn a whole lot about ‘James and his group’. I get it. Balancing so many new faces is hard, especially when your series in ending in 4 books, but maybe you could’ve... I don’t know... lessened the scope of the group? Or maybe you could’ve introduced them earlier, so that we can, at the very least, gain a glimpse towards what they’re like? We know so much about the main Animorphs, but when it comes down to the Aux. Animorphs, all I remember is that James wanted Pedro, his best friend forever, to get a morph of his own (which never really developed into anything? Or maybe Applegate forgot to explicitly state he’s part of the group, but, whatever.), and that in the end, they all die namelessly. Again, as part of a distraction tactic. A bunch of handicapped kids who were told the world is being taken over by aliens are introduced, and all they do is die at the end. No mention of them whatsoever in the ending book, after the war was ended. Not even a single page regarding how brave they were, to just trust the Animorphs despite how crazy they sound, and fight by their side, even LOSE one of their own before they all die a book later.

It’s stupid. The Aux. Animorphs could’ve been so much cooler had Applegate wasn’t so deeply invested in her ‘these books tell a war story!’ thing. They had potential to be memorable, and yet, I don’t even remember the names of the main kids that were intro’d in their book. Just James. By the way, James was a way better leader than Jake by the end. Actually, let’s talk about Jake.

Jake’s character was brutally murdered and replaced with an evil clone. So was Rachel’s.

Reading the last few books was, honestly, a festival of awkward and head-shaking moments for me. You mean to tell me that this is where Jake breaks? Jake, the leader of the Animorphs, the one who’s kept the alive, the one who’s brought them together when they thought they wouldn’t be able to make it, Jake, Marco’s best friend, Cassie’s boyfriend, Rachel’s cousin, JAKE, breaks at the end and sacrifices everything. His cousin? A sacrifice. The Aux. Animorphs and one of the only military officials willing to listen to him and his men? A sacrifice. 

I can’t put it into words how disappointed I am over both Jake and Rachel. Jake turned into a monster. He turned into someone he vowed he never would turn into. Remember when he said, like, two books before the end: “Defeat the Yeerks. Don’t become them.” What the hell happened to that when you flushed down 17 thousand Yeerks into space and let them freeze to death? 

Don’t get me started on his hatred towards Cassie by the end (which is 100% totally fixed when she has a mental breakdown don’t worry guys ahahaha fuck I fucked up their relationship and now I can’t really fix it well enough ok they hugged and they’re ok now). Like, I get it. I get it, Jake. You lost the morphing cube and Tom because Cassie thought she’d do something good. But is he seriously daft enough to just disregard any reasoning for what she did and go around acting like a child who got his toy taken away? Isn’t he the one that’s supposed to move on from things quickly? Just... Jake isn’t the same character by the end, but it’s not even a fluid change. It’s so drastic that when you’re reading it, it’s like a completely different character was introduced into the Animorphs with no explanation whatsoever. Yeah, war changes people, but Marco stayed the same. Tobias, more or less, stayed the same. Ax changed, but that was after the war, and it was for the better. Cassie stayed the same. 

Jake should’ve been written better. Because if he was, he wouldn’t have gotten so many people killed, including himself right at the end. 

And, oh God, Rachel... what have they done to you? Rachel went from someone who likes the thrill of the fight (admittedly, maybe a little too much) and is capable of making smart decisions, to someone who’s willing to drive over a military general even though he’s simply asking her to stop (in a truck full of EXPLOSIVES no less), as well attempt to hit Cassie in anger (good thing Tobias is her moral compass) after she confesses that she let Tom go on purpose. Hey, while we’re at it, let’s talk about her death.

Rachel’s death is stupid.

Let’s get one thing out of the way: Rachel is my favourite character in Animorphs, second close being Ax. I’m obviously upset about her death, so I’m sorry if I sound a little biased. 

Rachel’s death is plain dumb and stupid and shouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened had Applegate not convinced herself that all of her character deserve to suffer and die by the end, leaving a hopeless pit in my stomach after I closed the .PDF to the final book. You’re telling me that one of the most fierce human warriors I’ve read about in my entire life just gives up at the end. She spits out Tom’s body, demorphs, and that’s it. She gives up. Doesn’t even attempt to go down fighting. She just says some cliche line to Tobias and dies. I will give Applegate credit for creating one of the best post-death scenes I’ve ever read (”You mattered.” is so good), but that doesn’t redeem her death in my eyes. She’s killed off because Applegate claims Animorphs is a ‘war story’. A war story in which kids turn into animals, alien slugs crawl into people’s ears and control them, time travel happens on more than one occasion, and Ax is Tobias’ uncle. Sure. War story. Since it’s a war story, there’s no hope for any of the characters. But I’ll get to that at the end.

Anyway, Rachel shouldn’t have died. No amount of convincing will have me think otherwise. I don’t care how reckless she was described as, she’s not reckless enough to go on a suicide mission and die to make the reader feel upset. Plus, if Jake was SO hellbent on winning, why couldn’t he have sent James up there to deal with Tom? It’s not like he cared about the fates of the Aux. Animorphs by that point, so why not have one less trauma on your head and send in someone you see as disposable? At least let Jake retain some of his intelligence, Applegate.

Oh, yeah, the ending.

The ending is hopeless, and if you thought your characters’ struggles will pay off, fuck you.

“Ram the Blade Ship”, Jake says with Rachel’s smile, and seconds later, he and his friends die in a horrible explosion in space, limbs either blown apart or frozen. Oh, and Ax has been assimilated into some omnipotent entity that comes quite literally out of nowhere, so it’s safe to say that he’s classified as ‘dead’. The only one left on Earth is Cassie, who has to live with the fact that she’s the last Animorph left alive. Thinking about it, it’s pretty funny that the only one who lives in the end is Cassie, who always advocated for a more peaceful approach, if possible. Great irony, Applegate. 10/10.

Anyway, this whole thing stinks. Applegate claims the ending is up to interpretation (I think, from what I’ve read in her epilogue it certainly seems that way), but I think it’s bullshit. She claims there’s no happy endings in war. That’s bullshit. I can’t express how... just bullshit the ending is.

These kids who have fought for 3 years, these kids who have shed blood, sweat, and multiple tears across 54 books and several spin-offs, these kids who went through so much and where a ‘win’ barely counted as that, these kids get... nothing. No one is happy. Even Marco, who was relatively happy with his post-war life is dragged into Jake’s suicide mission, only to die alongside him, because poor Jake couldn’t get over the fact that he didn’t think of a better plan to save both his cousin and his brother.

No, thinking on it, they DO get something! They get death and an ‘open’ ending, which is just as open as Chick-fil-A on a Sunday. When you make a reader constantly read through HEAPS of books about how depressed these kids are, about their struggles and their failures and how they never really win anything, they mostly react to their enemies’ movements, it just makes the reader feel hopeless. And so by the end, when you just kill off everyone but a single character that knew better, the reader feels sad, and angry, and upset. And maybe Applegate wanted to go for that. 

Conclusion. Jesus Christ, Applegate.

The job of a writer is to string words together well enough to make people feel an emotion, whether negative or positive. And admittedly, she achieved that. But in my opinion, I’d rather close Animorphs knowing that these kids know at least some form of peace. That Jake rescues his brother and he can live out his life alongside him. That Rachel survives and that she can attend high-end fashion shows. That Tobias and his mother (who isn’t mentioned at all at the end, by the way? Guess she wasn’t important enough to the plot!) make up all the time they’ve lost when Tobias didn’t know she actually cared about him. That Marco does his thing, being a comedian, in peace, and visits Jake and his friends whenever he wants to. That Cassie pursues her own career and yeah, maybe she’s not together with Jake anymore, but at the very least, they’re happy to see one another. That Ax avenges his brother by killing Visser Three/One, and becomes a War Hero in his world, as well as a very good War Prince, and that he doesn’t forget to visit his second home.

Whether you liked the ending or not, this is the kind of ending I was hoping for. Something to ease me at the end. Something that would make me feel good after reading so much about the lives of 4 human kids, a half-bird half-boy, and an alien. But no. I get despair. I get death and I get sadness and I get an empty feeling in my heart that will always remain so as long as I remember Animorphs. Because no matter how much I’ll try and rewrite the ending, it’ll always stick with me, this one thought: Everybody dies and no one is happy. 

Animorphs has war, but it’s not a war story. Animorphs has tactics, strategy, guerilla warfare, espionage, but it’s not a war story. And even if I’m wrong, even if it is a war story, why can’t the characters be happy? Why can’t the characters get the one bit of compensation for their struggles?

Maybe I’m just too much of an optimist, and none of this matters. Maybe I should get used to bad endings, because let’s face it, this isn’t a good ending, or even a neutral one. This is as bad as it gets. Maybe I should suck it up and grow some thick skin.

But God damn, the ending to Animorphs sucked. 

[cerealmonster15]

yo fam i read ur grifnut/rvbnut tags,,like just make a post, i want to reblog this

OOH u mean my tags on this post yea? i’ll just make it THIS POST 8))) i was just gonna screencap all them juicy tags but since rvbnut [best term ever thank u for that] is otp, i will retype for better readability + i thought of some extra things to throw in, so here we go:

as mentioned already, there’s donut’s super secret diary where donut describes"gazing silently into each other’s visors” and feeling a connection, as well has having sat in grif’s lap”. i very much believe donut had a crush on grif at some point

there’s some PSA or something that for the life of me I can’t remember the name of, and it might just be a dvd extra cause I found it on youtube not through the rvb channel, where the reds are getting on motorcycles to go somewhere and grif has to share w/donut, and hes Very Hesitant and i dont remember what exactly donut was saying but it was Very Suggestive how he was telling grif to get behind him and hold on tight or w/e, and when grif didnt wanna get on it with him he was like “whats wrong ;(?? dont be shy~”

ive pulled out my book now and donut describes the play they put on for tucker as being about “the band of handsome male survivors braving the elements together” so, donut thinks he + the other BGC members are handsome

“The first thing the doctor did when we got him back over to our base was pin Sarge against the wall with the Warthog. I always thought if anyone was going to ram Sarge up to the wall, it would be me, seeing as how I’ve been angling for a promotion lately” -another entry in donut’s diary. i honest to god have no idea how this could be taken as an innuendo, bc it straight up sounds like donut wants to fuck his way to the top

also in the book, simmons’ self insert fanfiction “Hero In Maroon” has… a special scene with “Donut the Enchanter,” who is “spreading his temptation magic through scandalous dancing.” This is SIMMONS writing this, and simmons has himself say “Tell me what you know about Sarge, else I will have to run you through with my long sword” and, sure, he has donut speak in innuendos and reply to that line with “I like where this is gong. Maybe I’ll keep you here… FOREVER!” but like, simmons literally wrote himself throwing an innuendo to donut. then you have the next few lines “DONUT USES OFFICER HOT PANTS HANDCUFF ATTACK” “”Oh no!” Simmons exclaims. A bed appears behind him. His hands are cuffed to it.” And while the next line is just donut laughing and saying “Now you must watch my rendition of the musical CATS” so while donut wasnt gonna do anything creepy, this really sounds like simmons writing a self insert fic that includes a provocative donut flirting with him while talking about musicals…. simmons dont repress ur crush on donut

^not to mention the officer hot pants comes from donut having dressed up and jumped out of a cake for sarge’s birthday……..

at the finale scene of s13, donut says “I love you, too, Lopez”

Donut lived offscreen with Doc in valhalla, and then was dropped back off there to continue living in valhalla with doc (and lopez’s head) (i could talk for 60 years about them but anyone who’s followed me long enough has heard it all before and i’m tryin to keep the points b r i e f lol)

church has said “I like donut. He’s pretty harmless, man. I-I don’t think he’d hurt a fly.” and upon finding out donut got crushed by a spaceship, he paused his snarking to say “Oh, wait, the pink guy? Oh, I actually liked him!” to which grif replies “Seriously, what’s with all these feelings for donut?” 

tucker, thinking donut was a girl bc pink armor, asked donut if he “wanted to date one of us” and then called donut a “tease” when he said he wasn’t a girl

donut polished tucker’s codpiece 3 times when he and caboose were helping tucker get the black gunk off his armor, saying something along the lines of “a 3-coat waxing is just my way of saying I Care :)”

epsilon!tucker, while not canon to actual tucker, is implied to have jacked off to donut bc he thought he was a girl 

seems to be implied that tucker and donut were both assigned to the same desert location when everyone got split up, and donut passed out from thirst/exhaustion trying to get tucker’s distress call to the others

in The Best Red vs Blue DVD Ever of All Time, there’s a scene where tucker and donut are introducing “best couple.” Donut goes on about romance, while tucker says couple doesn’t necessarily mean romance, and  that “you[donut] think everything is romance! last week you called it romance when i accidentally took a bite of your sandwich” “was it really an accident tucker? was it?” “YES!” “time will tell” “ugh, whatever-” dudes, donut totally had a crush on tucker at least once

i dont have a good source but i remember seeing in a post a while back that there was a scrapped plotline that was gonna be a love triangle between donut, a “confused caboose”, and an unknown third party

i’m willing to bet the confused caboose bit is because caboose seems to have thought (and maybe still does? who knows) that donut was a girl, likely because of the armor. in caboose’s mind, donut’s a girl who says things like “I love caboose, and yet, I’m still afraid of him, he’s so scary :)” [cause he seems to think of himself as intimidating to the red team lol], and then in Head Canon, caboose!donut says something like “i like [something] almost as i like to paint my nails and not talk to boys. i would never talk to boys, especially not caboose for some reason!” which… is hard to make sense of tbh lol, but since everyone in caboose’s mind is how caboose perceives them, it maybe seems like caboose doesnt get as much of donut’s attention as he’d like?? lmfao, it sounds like “not caboose for some reason” means caboose doesn’t really understand either. 

donut tearily said to caboose way back in KITBFF: “ Mister Caboose, I just want you to know that even though we are on different teams, and we may never see each other again, whatever happens out there today, I’ll always remember the moments we shared together. You are now, and forever will be… my friend.” very emotional if i do say so myself

there’s this reconstruction deleted scene where i guess donut had gotten transferred to doing special agent stuff w/wash’s division or something (wash calls him Special Agent Donut so, i guess lol). Wash speaks in donut innuendos the whole time he’s talkin about donut [”He’s a back door expert” “if there’s an unsecured rear entrance, he’s your man” “legend has it he can get through even the tightest cracks-” lmfao and they address each other by name, so i like to think they’ve worked together and donut’s… mannerisms… have been Rubbing Off on wash ;p

^also in that deleted scene caboose goes “DONUT! :D” when donut appears and talks, so he’s clearly excited to see him!!!!!!!!! 

ahem. point being: the bgc needs to embrace the donut love and i firmly believe that if someone didnt have a crush on donut, donut had a crush on one of them at some point in time

[she-toadmask]

So the post I literally just reblogged I didn’t feel like rambling in the tags and making a mess for anyone looking for something else

(Fuck I went on forever under the cut this goes everywhere fast)

Before Sword and Shield came out, during their hype season, I had this really silly fic idea where 3 girls that were kind of versions of myself and also kind of not (like one of them was going to be Asian at one point which...I have no idea why it just was what I was planning, if I did it now they would be all as white as my indoor ass) would just suddenly be in Pokemon and it kind of went between being Galar and not being Galar

The youngest was kind of mostly an Ash expy, just really quick to do things and really energetic and excited; the oldest was just this very serious girl who was very strategic and stern and did not agree with the middle; the middle was just kind of...not exactly my depression but just way less into all of this and was kind of just following because she didn’t have anything else to do.

I thought of it again recently and thought about how their battle styles would be different if they were doing the gym circuit, though how the middle got in and what her starter would be (kind of thinking she would end up with a Blipbug somehow and I had another Pokemon in mind but I don’t remember what it was) because the young one would get Grookey because energy and loud, Hop would have Scorbunny because fire type like Leon, and the oldest would have Sobble and I eventually decided the other day when I was thinking about the idea again that it was because she had done copious amounts of research and decided that Inteleon had a battle style close to what she wanted to do. The young one would just go head-on into battles like Ash does because young and dumb, she would just be super enthusiastic and a little performative, and she would get team members just the way most people do, just encountering a Pokemon (or sometimes getting a fun interaction with energy n shit) and now they’re part of the team. The oldest would be super strategic and, instead of just ramming into the problem with the most force she could like the younger, would look at more detailed strategies. Less ‘spam your strongest move and then also do the anime style shit’ and more ‘strategic planning based on the species’ strengths and the opponent’s style and team’. She would look for strong Pokemon and have what she wants in mind before catching. The middle just...I haven’t really gotten her thing down yet? I know she just kind of catches Pokemon who seem to vibe with her on an emotional level (hence Blipbug, starts small and nervous and then ends up pretty dang cool, I think another was a female Kirlia who wanted to evolve into Gallade but couldn’t so she gave the Kirlia a necklace with an Everstone and helped Kirlia train to fight like a Gallade and there’s a bit of a theme with self-acceptance and growth but idk) and she more just kind of goes with the flow in battle and tries to just get the vibes n stuff. She’s the least likely to dynamax of the three, though if I were to watch the recent anime I might get a different idea. The story would be from the middle’s perspective (probably third but still focusing on her) just because she’s not as enthusiastic about all this as the others are and is just going along because it feels like that’s what she’s supposed to do. None of them really nickname their Pokemon probably, but the middle probably has unofficial nicknames like calling her Kirlia ‘kid’ a lot of the time, but that isn’t really a thing so much as I thought it would make sense.

I don’t know most of the stuff other than at the beginning the youngest rushes off to meet Leon and get her starter and the oldest is not too long after, but she doesn’t bother to wake the middle one up so the middle one doesn’t get a trio starter, hence the likely Blipbug partner. The youngest apologizes but is too excited to really talk too much, the oldest is just rude like ‘well you should have gotten up then.’ Also in the mines, the oldest and youngest split off to explore or look for Pokemon, but the middle just wants to get through and rest so she encounters Bede. There has to be an encounter later on when Kirlia should have long evolved if she was going to, and Bede is kind of mocking about it and the middle just wipes his team with Kirlia because that’s just a dick move. Also middle at some point when they hear that Bede beat Hop in a battle and just ruined his self-esteem, the youngest challenges him to a battle, the oldest probably is acting as ref, and it’s the middle one who goes to find Hop and check on him and stuff. If I were to actually write it, there would probably be some really good talk about living up to expectations and stuff and it doesn’t fix everything but it makes Hop feel less like he’s a disgrace to his brother.

There would also probably be more plot ish stuff? Like Rose actually doing bad shit? And I can tell you that the fact that the region is so linear can totally be spun as a control thing and I can pull back in that pre-release (and sometimes still in some content I’m certain) theory of Rose rigging matches so Leon would go undefeated. Otherwise we just get the gang calling him out on his bullshit with the 1000 years away, but both is good.

In the same vein of Pokemon fanfic but totally unrelated, I had some idea about a human from our world dropping into the Pokemon world and the thought about durability. Like in the anime we regularly see Team Rocket getting yeeted with the twinkle and they’re right as rain next we see them, and the number of times Ash has gotten shocked or burnt or whatever is absurd, so Pokemon world humans have to be way more durable than we are. I just had the thought that the human dropping in would realize that everyone is way more durable than they were and just try to avoid battles and stuff as much as they could because their body just can’t take the beatings that some trainers take. And like they would have to try and figure out how to dodge the fact that they’re always so distant from Pokemon when they aren’t calm and stuff. A tackle that might just take the breath out of a Pokemon world human could break one of their ribs. It was just a weird idea I had once.

Pokemon isekai again, I was thinking at one point that if I were to go into Pokemon I probably wouldn’t want to be a trainer or a professor, like I had these ideas of what I might do instead that was still really positive and involved Pokemon. The more wishful one was me being basically a crazy cat lady except with Eevee and the kids in the town would get them as starters. Aside from the Eevee themselves I would have a Flareon, an Espeon, an Umbreon, and probably a Leafeon. Flareon and Leafeon being the parents of most of the Eevee, and Espeon and Umbreon being accidental friendship evolutions before I started giving all the Eevee Everstone collars to prevent more accidents. The other was also kinda wishful but more feasible probably and was just like me being a berry farmer. (I just found my notes so I can give the Pokemon I wanted: Eevee because it’s my favorite Pokemon and it’s small and cute, a Tropius because neck fruit and also can reach berries and help harvest, a Flareon to cook berries apparently, and a Squirtle to help water and harvest.) Super wishful stuff and it still resonates, despite the fact that I’m even less active now than I was when I first thought of this stuff. I just want to have a nice peaceful life with nice Pokemon and be able to just be calm and happy. Yeah some evil team might try to destroy the world or something, but more often than not, someone comes along and helps out.

Unrelatedly my friend said the other day when we were talking that if we were to move in together in an apartment because we’re best friends and it’s cheaper to live together (also it wouldn’t be dating because even if she does turn out to be bi her girl type is buff girls and I am a twig) that she would cook and I would bake and just the idea of us living together and having stable jobs and having a cat if they were allowed and just...it sounds so nice and so many things if I think realistically like my current mental health struggles and the US being a dumpster fire and the pandemic and the US being fucking insane it just feels like it couldn’t happen and it’s just

(IT GETS REALLY BAD BELOW HERE JUST A WARNING SERIOUSLY ITS REALLY BAD)

I want to be happy but it feels like I can’t do that and I have so much shit piled up that I have to do and my medicine isn’t doing what it did at first so I guess my body got used to it like how people can get caffeine tolerance but ive had it less than a month so idk am i just fucking up that much it just fucking sucks i just wish i could stop having to worry and just live in a hole with my safe corners of the internet and my video games and a couple people online to talk to so i dont get too too lonely and just im not doing well and college is bad because my depresso is being super bad now and tonight i feel like im wasting my parents’ money because im just not doing what i need to do to exist as a student and it just feels like too much and i dont want to do any of it anymore