#one year blog anniversary

[hungermakesmonsters]

One year ago today, I started posting my fics on this blog with this fic and, since then, I've somehow managed to write and post something every week, which is honestly so shocking to me.

According to Ao3 over the last year I've written 290,579 across 4 fics... which probably explains how I managed to break my laptop keyboard.

ANYWAY. I just want to say thank you. It's been a wonderful year and I've really enjoyed sharing these stories. Week after week I've felt motivated to keep writing because of the kind responses I always get. I can't wait to share all the other stories that I have planned over the next year!

Catch Me If You Can

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done , Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : this one is pretty PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing in this chapter is warning worthy, but the story in general is going to turn pretty smutty from chapter 3 onwards and there will be strong language throughout. I’m not going to list all the different ways things get smutty unless I think it’s something that could be considered triggering. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.5k

A/N : this started life as an original piece that I couldn’t finish, so I decided to make a few little changes and turn it into a fanfic. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a tumblr, so sorry if I fuck this up. The story as a whole is going to veer recklessly between cute fluff and some much darker things with themes of obsession, will-they-won’t-they, and running from past trauma. Both Billy and reader are messy AF.

CHAPTER ONE

You checked your phone for what had to be the hundredth time. A measly two minutes had passed but the August heat made it feel longer. You found yourself thinking about how you were going to kill your roommate for making you chauffeur her around in the height of summer, trying to ignore the way the sticky New York heat made your tank top cling to your body beneath your unzipped hoodie.

You’d given up on waiting in the car after the first ten minutes - the AC in the old VW was busted, making it even less comfortable than sitting on the hood of the car under the glaring sun. Still, the parking lot was nicer than some of the places you’d found yourself waiting for your roommate over the years. That was the thing with Tammy; everyone around her lived on her schedule, did what she wanted to do. And you were no exception.

Actually, this whole thing was your idea. A friend, albeit in a very loose sense of the word, had told you that ANVIL were hiring office staff, and you’d passed the message along to Tammy who’d - well, she’d turned her nose up at it at first, she’d even laughed at you. But Tammy needed a job and ANVIL had a reputation for paying well.

So, you agreed to drive her to the interview and even agreed to wait.

Every now and then someone would appear - honestly, it looked like a steady stream of models leaving the building, the sorts that Tammy fit well with - but, for the most part, it was just you, mindlessly scrolling Instagram, trying not to think.

Until you saw him.

He came out the door and just stopped. It looked like he was breathing a sigh of relief at being out of there, and you couldn’t help but smirk a little at that. Poor guy.

Despite the weather he was dressed in a suit, dark hair slicked back, tall and slender. You suddenly felt out of place, like you shouldn’t be there, like you shouldn’t keep watching him, but the longer it went without him noticing you, the harder it was to try and tear away your eyes. He answered his phone as you watched, even without being able to hear a word, you knew he wasn’t happy. When he turned you got your first glimpse of his face and -

Fuck. 

Your eyes dropped back to your phone, knowing that he’d seen you watching him. Fingers swiped across the screen, jumping from Instagram to emails to Facebook, looking for anything to reply to. Your eyes stayed fixed on the phone even as you heard the shuffle of boots on gravel moving towards you, trying to act like you hadn’t been staring at him even as his shadow fell over you.

“Do you make a habit of hanging out in parking lots or are you here to interview?” His voice didn’t sound quite the way you’d imagined - though you weren’t really sure why you’d been imagining his voice to begin with. There was an edge to it, something that sent a shiver up your spine.

“I’m waiting for someone,” you answered, squinting as you looked up and the light seemed to halo around him.

“Friend?” he asked.

“Roommate,” you answered awkwardly before shaking your head, “but, yeah, she’s my friend too.”

You weren’t expecting him to laugh at that, for him to smile the sort of smile that probably had women all across the five boroughs ready to drop their panties. (And that was another thought you weren’t sure you should be having.)

He didn’t move, for a few moments he just looked at you as if he was taking measure, and all you could think about was how there was a bead of sweat rolling down your back. You probably looked completely gross while he was standing there in what looked like a professionally tailored suit that probably cost more than you could make in a year, with not a hair out of place despite the oppressive heat. 

“Does she make you wait around for her a lot?” He asked as if it was the strangest thing he’d ever heard, like he’d never allow anyone to put him in your position.

“She doesn’t drive,” you shrug, “anyway, this is nicer than most of the places she drags me to.”

“Yeah?” he prompted with little more than a raise of his eyebrow.

“Tammy’s an actress - at least, she wants to be. So I end up waiting around while she auditions.”

The look he gave you was surprisingly sympathetic. “Actresses can be hard work.” You didn’t think to ask how he knew that.

“Yeah, I’m just glad she gets to keep her clothes on for this interview,” the words slipped out and you instantly grimaced but if he noticed that, he didn’t let it show. “Not like - I mean, she’s not doing porn or anything. Not that there’s anything wrong with women wanting to -”

You could see him fighting back a laugh the more flustered you got.

“I mean, it’s not the nudity that’s a problem - you should read some of the scripts, they’re just so bad.” You finally managed. “It’s like ‘oh no the serial killer caught me with his knife and now my tits are out’.”

Silence fell again and you watched him glance away, daring to hope that he was done with you. He’d walk away and forget all about you, and you’d spend the rest of the day replaying this moment in your mind, cringing at how ridiculous you are.

“I was going to grab a coffee, your friend is probably going to be another hour or so, so if you want you could always join me?” 

You quickly started coming up with reasons why you couldn’t, why you shouldn’t. But, it was just coffee, it wasn’t like he was asking you to leave the country with him. And, besides, you weren’t sure you could stand the heat much longer.

“There’s a place nearby that does amazing iced coffee,” like he was reading your mind. And that sold it.

“Yeah, sure, that sounds great,” you decided, sliding off the hood of the car in a less than graceful manner.

Once you were standing you could really appreciate the height difference between the two of you; you almost had to tilt your head to look at him. You pushed the thought away, taking a moment to check that your car was locked up, following after him when he started to leave the way.

As you walked, it dawned on you that you still didn’t know his name, so you clumsily introduced yourself.

“Billy,” he responded with a smile, realising that he’d made the same mistake you had, “come on, it’s just across the street.”

You both fell into silence as you left the parking lot, but it wasn’t long before it got to be too much for you in an awkward, uncomfortable sort of way. It struck you that he didn’t look uncomfortable though, in fact you were already pretty certain that he wasn’t the kind of man to get uncomfortable easily. 

“So, do you work at Anvil?” You asked him, wanting to fill the silence but also wanting to know a little bit more about him. You weren’t sure what he found so funny about the question but the smirk he shot you left you feeling like you were missing something obvious and he found your ignorance amusing. You started to fiddle with your sleeves, gaze dropping from his.

“Yeah, I work at Anvil.” And then silence fell again.

When you looked up again you were outside a little coffee shop that was so small and non-descript that you’d completely missed it when you drove by it earlier. He held the door open for you and let you slip inside before following, watching as you breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air from the AC hit. When you moved towards the counter, you realised he was only a step behind, towering over you almost possessively.

The girl behind the counter smiled at him first before bothering to spare you a glance.

“What would you like?” He asked. You quickly realised that he was intending to pay and that just unsettled you further.

“I can get mine,” you were quick to tell him. You didn’t need him paying for you and you’d never been the sort to accept drinks from men you didn’t know, not even coffee. So, you ordered your drink, your favourite iced coffee with syrup, before he ordered his, an americano with an extra shot of espresso. But before you could pay, he reached over and tapped his phone on the reader, flashing you what you could only describe as a darkly mischievous smile.

“You didn’t have to -” you started to tell him.

“I know, but I wanted to,” Billy shrugged, “besides, I owe you for keeping me company.”

The girl behind the counter shot you the sort of look that made you think that she would have been more than happy to keep Billy company herself and that she saw your presence there as an annoyance. You guess that was probably the effect he had on a lot of women.

“Here you go, Billy, just how you like it,” she smiled as put your drinks on the counter, leaning and fluttering her eyelashes at him, completely ignoring you. Billy gave her a muttered thanks and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as you reached for your drink. 

As you turned, Billy placed a hand on your back, leading you towards a table by the window, far enough from the counter that it felt a little more private. You sat on the edge of your seat, eyes nervously wandering towards the door for a second and, when you looked back, you found him watching you. There was a confidence about him that was getting harder and harder to ignore, he was clearly a man who knew what he wanted and exactly how to get it - so, what did he want from you?

Company? Or maybe you were being used to make the barista jealous? No, that didn’t feel right, he’d barely even looked at her, anything between them was obviously one-sided. Maybe you were there to keep her at bay so he could drink his coffee in peace? Though from looking at him you knew he had to be used to women fawning over him, with those dark eyes that looked right through you and the shirt that fit so perfectly you could make out the muscles beneath as he shrugged off his jacket. 

“What?” 

Shit. You realised that you’d been staring at him and your cheeks started to warm. He didn’t look bothered, in fact he was still smiling at you, amused, almost as if he wanted you to look.

“Sorry,” you apologised, dropping your eyes to the table, quickly thinking of a way to move the conversation along, “so how long have you worked for Anvil?”

“Too long,” he answered and, again, there was that little laugh, that little smirk telling you that you were missing something. Billy obviously didn’t want to talk about himself though. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Bike messenger, mostly...” you shrugged awkwardly knowing how guys like him looked down on people like you. You weren’t ashamed of what you did; it paid the rent, put food on the table, you just hated having to defend it to someone like him who probably made money in his sleep. He surprised you by not reacting - there was no look of superiority, no pity, just a nod of his head.

“Mostly?”

“What?”

“You said mostly,” 

“Oh, right, yeah. I do some work as a photographer. Just freelance and a couple of exhibitions,” you shrugged again, “it’s actually how I found out that Anvil were hiring.”

“Really?” It was hard not to notice how intently he was looking at you, like he was hanging on your every word. You started fiddling with your sleeve again.

“Yeah, sometimes I do work for The Bulletin if someone is out sick, and my friend Karen knew Tammy was looking for a job, so -”

“Karen? Frank’s girl?” 

“Yeah,” you’d never met him but Karen had been talking about him a lot since they got together, “we were talking and I guess I let slip that we might have to move to a smaller apartment if Tammy can’t find a job…” 

“High rent?”

You nodded. “Higher than either of us can really afford, but Tammy’s parents pay half and we split the rest.”

“Her parents still pay for her?”

“They’re loaded and I guess they didn’t want her having to live anywhere that might be ‘dangerous’,” you offered, but you knew how it sounded. You and Tammy were both in your thirties , it was strange that they still went out of their way to provide for her, but you didn’t fault them for wanting to look after their child, something that your own parents had never seemed inclined to do. The thought sent you down a rabbit hole and had you falling silent, wondering how he’d look at you if he knew the truth about you.

You took a drink, letting your eyes drift to the window and the street beyond. His eyes stayed firmly on you and you could almost feel him watching you. It made you tense and shift uncomfortably.

“What kind of photography are you into?” 

“Mostly candids, but since I moved to New York, I’ve been really getting into urban stuff and I’ve been playing around with architecture shots.” Billy listened, looking interested in everything you had to say in a way that had you smiling again.

“And you put on exhibitions?”

“Little shows sometimes, yeah.”

“I’d love to see one sometime.” He kept smiling at you, all his focus completely on you, and you found that you didn’t entirely mind it. It was nice talking to someone who seemed to care about what you were actually saying. “Did you study photography in college or -”

“No, I never got to go to college.” It wasn’t until you’d said it that you realised how much it gave away; that college wasn’t your choice, that you’d been stopped from going.

“I never went to college either,” Billy offered, as if he sensed your sudden discomfort. You nodded, eyes dropping to your fingers, tugging at your sleeve again. “Do I make you nervous?” He asked suddenly, pulling your attention back towards him. He was still smiling, still looking at you in a way that made you feel like he was taking you apart in his mind, piece by piece.

“What? No - that’s not -” you stumbled over your words, embarrassed that he’d caught on so easily. You took a second before letting out a sigh. “It’s not you, I just don’t do this a lot.”

“Which part?”

“The whole going for coffee with a random guy I’ve never met before.”

“Is that because guys don’t ask or because you don’t normally say yes?” He asked but didn’t give you time to respond. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I already know the answer.”

An eyebrow raised, unimpressed by the assumption; the situation might have been making you nervous but you weren’t going to take shit from a stranger. “Oh yeah, and how’s that?”

“You’re too attractive for men to ignore.” Billy shrugged and your eyes rolled. Yikes, what a fucking line.

“Maybe I’ve got a boyfriend,” you retorted, “or a girlfriend.”

Billy laughed. “You know that wouldn’t stop most guys, right?”

“Would it have stopped you?” You were pretty sure you knew the answer to that.

“I dunno, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked. “Or a girlfriend?”

“Do you?”

“Have a boyfriend?”

“Or a girlfriend.”

“Would you be here having coffee with me if I did?” He asked, turning the tables so effortlessly that it made it seem like flirting was an olympic sport and he was a gold medallist.

“Would you have asked me if you did?” You answered back, trying to fight back a smirk of your own at how ridiculous this was becoming.

“Do you always answer innocent questions with more questions?” It was obvious he was enjoying whatever this was, his dark eyes practically shining with excitement as he watched you from the other side of the table.

“You call that an innocent question?” You retorted, letting out a snort of laughter.

Billy let out another laugh, holding up his hands and signalling surrender.

“Maybe you should come work for Anvil, I bet you’re a pro at interrogations.” And that really made you laugh, and the sight of it had his gaze fixing more intently on you and his smile widening. 

“I don’t think I have the necessary qualifications to work somewhere like that,” you shrug, “besides, I like my job.”

“Really?” Usually his question would have pissed you off, but there was something in the way he asked that made it seem like he was genuinely curious to hear your reasons rather than it being some kind of judgement.

“Yeah, I get to see the whole city, there’s no office politics to deal with, and I get to listen to music all day,” you found yourself shrugging again, and his eyes were still fixed on you, like he was fascinated. So, it felt like your turn to ask; “what?”

“Nothing,” he sat back and lifted his mug, taking a long drink, “I think it’s great that you like your job, there’s a lot to be said for enjoying your work.”

“Do you? Enjoy what you do, I mean. With Anvil?” Whatever that was.

“Some days more than others,” he smiled at you.

“And today?” You asked stupidly, before considering the implications and how it might sound.

“Today’s definitely getting better.”

Your eyes dropped to your drink again, teeth running over your bottom lip. He wasn’t talking about you, he couldn’t be talking about you, but some part of you wished he was. But you wouldn’t have known even if he was, you’d never been good with those sorts of things, flirting and separating a little bit of fun from something more. Billy was an enigma to you in the same way that most people were, but there was something about him that made you almost want to break all of your rules, just to see what might happen.

“What do you do for Anvil?”

“These days I mostly deal with the bureaucracy,” and the look on his face told you just what he thought of that.

“So you don’t - I don’t know, go on missions, all Seal Team 6, kicking down doors?”

Billy let slip a laugh that was equal parts amused and offended.

“Seal Team 6?”

“What?” You laughed, awkwardly.

“You know a lot of Anvil are ex-Marine Corps, right? I’m an ex-Marine.”

“Is there a difference?” You knew there was though, honestly, you couldn’t remember exactly what it was, and the look on his face was priceless enough that you didn’t regret asking.

“Okay, wow, you’re really going to make me explain it to you?” You nodded in response. “Okay, it’s -“

Before he could start on whatever lecture he was about to give, your phone started to ring, loudly - loud enough to make you almost jump out of your skin. (You must have knocked the volume while you’d been frantically trying to look like you hadn’t been spying on him earlier.)

“Fuck, it’s Tammy,” you tell him before answering.

Moments later, you’d wish that you hadn’t. She was at the car waiting for her ride home and you were nowhere to be found, which was apparently so inconsiderate of you. You finished the call with a sigh and looked at Billy. 

“Guess her interview didn’t go well,” you took one final drink before pushing back your chair and getting to your feet. “I’ve got to go, if I leave her standing around out there I’ll never hear the end of it, it’s been -“ you stopped as he got to his feet.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“No, that’s fine, really, you don’t have to.”

“I insist.” His tone making it clear that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m sorry, she’s just -“

“You don’t have anything to apologise for.”

When you started towards the door, he was right behind you, again staying close to you. Outside the oppressive heat hit you again and it pissed you off; you’d been having a nice time and Tammy just had to ruin it. Now it was over and you’d never see him again. 

Billy didn’t say anything, even as you picked up the pace. You wanted to get this all over and done with, you wanted to drive Tammy back to the apartment and - you didn’t know. All you knew was that you didn’t want to be around her, you didn't want to have to deal with her bullshit, and you didn’t want to think about the man walking a step behind you. 

You didn’t see him frown at you, you didn’t dare look back because it just felt childish. You’d met him forty minutes ago, he’d probably forget you by the end of the day. 

You rounded the corner, about to cross the street when you felt his fingers around your wrist. All it took was one gentle pull and you were turning back towards him, stumbling into his arms. It felt like a moment pulled from some romcom; you spilled forward into his arms, your hands against his chest. And then you looked up, finding those impossibly dark eyes staring down at you.

Billy looked at you like he was trying to decide something, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. The, less than a second later, he was kissing you, pulling your body against his. And you let him. Later you’d tell yourself that it was shock but, in that moment, you wanted him to kiss you for no other reason than he was nice; you’d had fun getting coffee with him. It took you a moment to return to your senses, to use the hands on his chest to gently push him away.

“Billy —”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. I’ve been thinking about doing that for the last thirty minutes.” He grinned. “Go to dinner with me.” You couldn’t tell if he meant it as a question or a command, but it definitely sounded more like the latter. Maybe he was just that used to women doing what he wanted them to do.

“I think you’re supposed to ask that before kissing someone,” was all you could think to say with a nervous laugh.

“Well, now I’ve asked…” And a second later, his lips were on yours again, tongue running against the seam of your lips, desperately wanting to deepen the kiss, and you let him. For a few sweet moments, you gave yourself over to him - to a random stranger you’d known for all of forty minutes.

Finally, you pushed him again, taking a step back, out of his arms and back to reality.

“I can’t,” is what you told him once you’d managed to find your voice again.

“Can’t or won’t?” He dared to try and take a step closer, forcing you to take another step back.

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?” Honestly not sure you even wanted an answer from him.

“So I can figure out how to change your mind.” He explained, like he thought it would really be that simple

“You can’t.” But that just made him laugh.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.” And there was something dangerous in that; you didn’t know what he was capable of. “And I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

“I told you; I don’t do this.”

“This can be whatever you want it to be. I’m very adaptable.” He reached for you again, fingers brushing your cheek before you managed to pull away.

He looked ready to say something else, like he had some line on the tip of his tongue that he was sure would convince you, his lips even parted ready, but nothing came out. You weren’t sure why until a moment later.

“Oh my god, there you are! Do you know how long I’ve been standing around waiting for you?”

Tammy. You didn’t know whether to be glad of the interruption or pissed at the tone she was taking with you.

“Sorry,” Billy stepped around you, towards Tammy, “I distracted her.”

“That’s -“ and then the impossible happened. Tammy actually fell silent. You decided that it must just be the effect that Billy tended to have on women.

“I’m Billy,” he offered out his hand and Tammy was quick to take it, no doubt falling for his charms already. And Billy, well, obviously he’d managed to get over whatever momentary insanity he’d been suffering from when he kissed you and had moved onto the next victim.

Only that wasn’t exactly what happened.

“Oh, I know who you are, Mr Russo. I’m Tammy.”

“Wait… what?” If anyone heard you, neither bothered to respond. How did Tammy know who he was?

“I hear you’ve just been interviewing to come work for me,”

For him. Not with him.

Your stomach dropped, remembering something Karen had said about a Russo, about how Frank called him a pretty boy and Karen thought he was a bit of a womaniser. He kept talking to Tammy but you barely caught a word, too stuck on everything that had happened and how you’d let it. 

“Come on, Tammy,” finally, you snapped out of it and started to walk, “if you want a ride home we need to go now.” 

You didn’t even wait for an answer, you just let her say her goodbyes to Billy.

“Let me know when you’re free to go for that dinner,” Billy called after you, You chose not to answer, some part of you hoping that Tammy wasn’t going to follow because you knew what would come next.

Fumbling for your keys, you had them in hand before you got back to your car, not daring to look behind you. What had just happened? Your lips still tingled from his kiss, you could still taste him, could still feel his hand on your hip. And some part of you was inexplicably still annoyed that the moment was over.

Tammy followed behind you, calling after, barely making it into the passenger seat before you started the car.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed and you steeled yourself for the oncoming argument, “you are the best friend ever.” 

There was no sarcasm, no anger - she was actually smiling at you. What the hell did she think you’d done?

“What?” Throwing the car into reverse and trying to ignore the fact that Billy was there, watching you as he made his way back towards the office building, his office building. There was something unknowable in his dark gaze as it followed you and, again, you found yourself thinking about how you had no idea what he was capable of.

“Flirting with Billy-fucking-Russo to get me a job at Anvil.”

CHAPTER TWO

-

END NOTES : if you made it this far, thanks for sticking around. Like I said, this is something that started out as an original piece and I was struggling to find the energy to finish it. I’ll be trying to release a new chapter at least once a week, though the second part will probably be up in a few days time because the first two chapters are really just to help set things up, and I know that’s not what people are interested in. I already have the first five chapters pretty much written, they just need some editing before going in the queue and, in total, I have around 20 chapters planned. I’ll be working on this through NaNoWriMo too, so how much I get done might change the posting schedule a little.

Likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, though this fic will be posted regardless of engagement because I just need to get this story out of my head once and for all.

Anyway thanks for stopping by, I hope you have a wonderful day wherever you are!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At the start of this project all I wanted was to 'learn how to draw' using comics as a medium and the MDZS audio drama as inspiration.

I've come *very* far from making simple, 3 panel black and white comics, and I truly do intend to go even further. Thank you to everyone who cheered me on throughout 2023, it has been an incredible year in so many ways I never could have imagined. I look forwards to drawing throughout 2024 B*)

[burning-academia-if]

if you're still doing prompts, can i req lars + yearning?

I somehow finally made it to the end LOL

Lars + Yearning!

"You always look at me like that." You jump from where you sit across from him at the table. Lars doesn't raise his head to look at you, and you're not sure how he sensed your gaze. He had never failed to.

You pause, before trying denial, "I'm not sure what you mean...?"

He sighs, finally lifting his head up to look at you, "Like I'm not right in front of you."

"I don't think that. Especially with how...strong of a personality you have." You try not to grimace as attempt to explain yourself. It isn't like that. You know that he's here, and that he wants to be here, but sometimes you're trapped in the rough beginning the two of you had. You know the boundaries are different now, but you find yourself hesitating on testing the waters and just how its all changed.

Lars narrows his eyes, and smiles like a wolf, "I'm aware, but you act like it. You're scared to ask for what you want."

"I don't want anything from you. Not really."

"'Not really' isn't 'no.' Name one thing you want from, right now."

You swallow, pinned under the weight of the glint in his eyes. All thoughts scatter, and you struggle to find an answer. All the hesitation has built up a wall, and you're not sure how to get through it. What do you want from Lars? The fact he's here at all feels overwhelming enough. You're not sure how to ask for more, when he already has given you the gift of staying.

"I'm not sure?" You try not to fiddle with your fingers. "I mean, that's so sudden. If I asked you what you wanted from me right now--"

"A kiss." You blink owlishly as his grin turns into the devil. "See? It's easy to say if you just let yourself."

Despite the bold claim, he doesn't move towards you, "You say that, but you're not moving towards me."

"Because you don't want that, right? You said you don't want anything from me." His gaze drops again, returning back to work but you know what he's doing. It's a trick you've grown used to at this point. The way he gets under your skin, trying to make you admit everything you hide under the surface. Too shy or nervous or scared or ashamed to say.

You hate this about him, but only because it works, "...I don't know, I meant that. It's so strange to say, but it's like I yearn for you even though you're right here. I feel like I don't have the right to ask for anything, still. I don't know how to ask for anything."

"Life's too short to live like that. Take what you want. You have my permission to take whatever you want from me."

It's not as easy as he says, but you try to commit this to memory. You repeat it over and over to yourself as you reach out and pull him towards you. He gives so much more easily than you'd expect from him, perhaps for your sake, and you press your lips to his.

His warmth, his heartbeat under your hands, his hand ghosting across your waist, are all reminders. He's here because he wants to be. You don't have to keep yourself small, and you don't need to worship someone just because they want to be in your life.

You pull away, and your head falls against his shoulder. You take a shuddering breath, and Lars lets you cry as the realization hits you. He doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night.

[darkfictionjude]

Oh shit I completely forgot that today marks the day when I first launched the game post and the blog essentially 😭

So happy birthday to me, to WE WRETCHED CREATURES and to all of you, those old and new

I wanted to tag some readers who have been here since forever at least to my memory and who I am fond of:

@selflesshart

@ixpv

@lupele1

@blueastheatlantic

@captainbobcat

@elegantunknownphantom

@ryusie

And to those who have nicknames who I don’t know the real blogs of ♥️

Here have a cake

[capn-twitchery]

grace's birthday is in 10 days wtf do i draw for it. help. open to suggestions i am crowdfunding his birthday plan

[bonetrousledbones]

Can you tell us your the reasons for why you like Papyrus? (I’m sure you’ve did this before xd, but I always enjoyed rambles about Papyrus. Hope you’re well!)

oh it is 100% his whole loneliness thing. growing up i was a chronic friend group hopper all the way from kindergarten to 8th grade and then by high school that didn't work anymore so i just kinda didn't have any genuine friends for basically that entire 4 years. so hyperfixating so hard on a character who's basically completely centered around that struggle helped me feel a bit less hopeless about it. the funny thing is i think pre-undertale papyrus actually had more friends than i did back then but like its the little things

that's why this fic that i'm gonna plug again hit me so hard tbh. shit sucks when you're trying so so hard to be friendly and engage in other people and then you get to a point where you have to realize they're not at all interested in returning the favor, even if they're not overtly rude about it or anything, they just don't care to get to know you any deeper than surface level convenience and it gets real hard to not let yourself get angsty about it lmao

i do think that while sometimes i wish i hadn't been given such free internet access as a kid i'm still really lucky that i was able to be exposed to undertale when i was. it's such a unapologetically hopeful game that i'm sure it absolutely impacted the way that i think about things today in terms of optimism and the ability to turn bad situations around, and papyrus plays a huuuge part of that entire message. if it weren't for him, i'm honestly not sure if i would've had the drive to keep trying to connect with other people even when it didn't work for so long.

so tl;dr thank you funny little skeleton man for constantly reminding me that making friends is still possible even when your demeanor is frankly weird as fuck. sometimes you just gotta keep truckin until you find your people even if it takes a while

[faunina]

happy TWO YEAR anniversary to everyone who attended the destiel wedding!

and happy valentines day to the rest of you guys <3 click the image for a surprise!

if you’ve ever seen that one post (i’ll link it in the replies) about the parallels between the rodeo scene in 12x11 and the movie “urban cowboy” and it entirely broke your brain, then this post is for you. and also i’m kissing you on the mouth

[ID. Digital art of Dean Winchester done in black and white. He’s is laid back on top of an electric bull. One hand rests on his hip while the other hovers in mid-air, fingers slightly curled, and he seems to be looking at it. When clicked, the transparency shows Castiel standing behind him. Castiel is holding Dean’s hand to his lips, while his other hand supports the back of Dean’s head. Castiel has a visible halo and wings that he has curled protectively around Dean. End ID.]

[yeehawkpierce]

It’s been a year since that months old interview with Mike Farrell caused mass mental illness in the fandom <3 truly a historic moment for us

[raineandsky]

#85

The door slams. Footsteps tramp up the corridor. The villain’s gaze snaps up from the crochet in their lap.

The hero appears in the doorway. Their eyes lock for a long moment.

“Hey,” is all the hero says. The villain hums in return as they continue across the living room to the minifridge, tucked away in the corner, to grab a snack. Alcohol’s proven off limits with haphazard schedules like theirs—snacks are a decent enough substitute.

The hero flops on the sofa next to the villain wielding a bag of celery sticks. “Weren’t you meant to be out, like, an hour ago?”

The villain’s gaze is already back on the yarn in their hands. “Yeah, but I didn’t wanna go until the film finished.”

The hero’s attention turns to the tv screen in front of them. They’ve seen this film before. They’re not even an hour in. “Won’t [Supervillain] be mad if you’re late?”

“Well, timetables aren’t very evil.” The villain laughs shortly. “So no.”

The hero hums at that. “You’re really willing to be two hours late?”

“Why?” The villain squints at them from over the slowly lengthening jumper between their crochet hooks. “You got a girl waiting for you in your room?”

The hero scoffs dramatically. “I don’t even like girls, you moron.”

They dip into their bag of celery mindlessly, crunching on a stick for a moment before holding the bag out to their nemesis. Said nemesis looks entirely offended at the offer.

“Jesus, ew, no,” they snap, their tone playfully harsh. “You can just say if you want me to leave.”

“Oh, sorry.” The hero leaps to their feet, waving their celery stick at the villain like a priest might wield a cross. “Begone, demon!”

The villain shrieks in believable horror, scrambling away from the hero. “God, no! Not the celery!”

The hero laughs brightly. “Go to work!”

The villain makes some strangled noise of dread, clutching dramatically at their chest. “Fine, fine! I’ll go!” They practically leap for the front door, grabbing for their coat on the way. The hero mercilessly follows them into the hallway. It’s moments like these the hero remembers what a damn good actor the villain can be when they feel like it.

The front door gets flung open. The villain makes a show of fumbling for the doorway before turning back to the hero with a grin. “See you out there in a few hours?”

“Of course.” The hero shoves the last of the celery into their mouth in a show of peace. “Go wreck something so I can come beat your ass about it.”

“That’ll be the day. Pause the movie for me.” And with that the villain disappears out the door and across the little corridor outside.

The apartment sinks into comfortable silence as the hero shuffles back to the living room to turn the tv off. Then it’s to their bedroom, already shedding their jacket at the door.

The man lounging on their bed graces them with a slight frown. “Your roommate sounds exactly like [Villain].”

“It’s a curse. Everyone says that.” The hero ditches their shoes next. “Now, let’s make the most of the next couple hours, huh?”

The man smirks at that, clearly satisfied with the answer. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

[theartofmetal]

281. Tales from the Thousand Lakes - Amorphis (Melodic Death Metal, 1994)

Art by Sylvain Bellemare

The lyrics originate from a translation of the "Kalevala" - a 19th-century work of epic poetry compiled by Elias Lönnrot from Karelian and Finnish oral folklore and mythology.

The Kalevala is regarded as the national epic of Karelia and Finland and is one of the most significant works of Finnish literature

[lactose-tolarant]

neatly partitioned meat and cheese appeal to me on an aesthetic level ok mfer

[jigencaps]

[one-winged-dreams]

@flatstarcarcosa and I talking about the ~semantics~ of Eden's conception just made me think about how when she was born she was a very normal sized child and I was like "Thank GOD she didn't take after your 6'8" brick wall genetics" only for me to turn around one day when she's 15 and she's already 5'11"

And then she's 6'2" by the time she graduates high school.

And I just turn to Angeal like "Well THAT could have SUCKED"

Now we just have to worry about the potential round two-

[burning-academia-if]

Lars + Flustered, please and thank you :)!

Happy one year anniversary to people trying to figure out how to fluster Lars!!!!!

Lars + Flustered

            “You’re not going to get him to blush, let alone be flustered. You might as well give up now.” Had been Nevio’s advice when you’d finally broken down and asked him. The impenetrable wall that was Lars Angel was one you couldn’t even begin to climb.

            It wasn’t just that you wanted to get him flustered, but you thought if you could achieve that, maybe he’d be willing to show just a little more of his emotions around you. The flicker of emotions he showed were so mild and so calculated. Still, if even the members of the Student Wardens had either scoffed or wished you luck, you weren’t sure how you were going to manage this feat.

            You’d tried everything you could think of. Surprises, sweet words, heated words, physical touch, gifts, everything. He’d caught on quickly, and while you’d expected him to tell you to knock it off at first, he’d only given his usual sharp smile.

            “Keep trying.”

            The challenge in those words had made you keep going. Lars had yet to break, and you’d long since lost count of your attempts.

            You flopped on the couch in his dorm, staring up at the ceiling. With a long suffering sigh, you said, “I give up.”

            “On?” Lars didn’t even look up from his laptop. He lounged next to you, feet propped up on the coffee table, his hair faintly messy and glasses low on his nose.

            Another heavy sigh escapes you. Of course, you’ve never actually said your end goal was to fluster him. Even if it was obvious to him what you were doing, saying it out loud would have ruined the intention behind it. The whole affair had been an open secret.

            Lars reaches out and lightly brushes a knuckle against the top of your head, “I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

            “This isn’t something you’d be willing to help with.”

            He finally lifts his head, places the laptop atop the table, and turns his full attention to you, “I’m willing to help you with anything if it’ll make you stop mopping.”

            “I need a list of all your weaknesses pronto—”

            “Try again.”

            As he turns away you let out a groan, “How many times have I tried, only to end in failure and for my beloved to scorn me—”

            “You’re acting like a child.”

            “—whatever can one do in such a state?” You reach up for him, fingers trailing against his face.

            There’s not a hint of amusement in his expression, “You’ll figure it out. You have a whole lifetime to figure it out.”

            “A whole—?” He returns back to his work before you can process the implications. You sit upright, suddenly feeling a wave of heat rush through your body. An entirely unfair experience consider this is what you’ve spent ages trying to get him to feel. “Hey, I’m going to need you to explain that statement, sir.”

            He doesn’t. And he doesn’t for the rest of the night despite your pestering.

[silvermoon424]

Just came to the humorous and somewhat horrifying realization that I've been running this very Tumblr blog for almost half of my fucking life lmao

[pondslime]

current location now that my fixation on this goofy movie is ramping up again: