#oops this got long lol

[kamabokobun]

Look at these things. Thank you for looking at them

[yasmindifference]

Cheer up prompt #27

An anon and @this-was-a-terrible-idea also requested #27! A popular number apparently lol. I hope you all enjoy! ♡

"--and then Mr. Browsten said that with all the, um, the hullabaloo that it wasn't fair to make us take a test, so he cancelled it."

Tim pauses for breath and Mom hums an encouraging noise. When Dad makes that sound, it means he's not really listening, but he knows Mom's paying attention, even though she hasn't stopped curling her hair. From where he's lying on her bed, he can see her reflection in the vanity mirror, and she's frowning just like he knew she would.

Mom doesn't approve of canceling tests, which means she doesn't approve of Mr. Browsten, because he cancels them all the time.

(Mom says tests are important to know where improvement is necessary. Mr. Browsten doesn't seem to agree.)

"So we watched a documentary instead and it was pretty interesting, it was about puffer fish! Sarah asked what puffer fish have to do with grammar and Mr. Browsten said that learning is its own reward, but I think he just didn't have anything else ready so he took something from Ms. Cappola instead. She's the fifth grade science teacher and I heard her classes watch movies at least twice a week."

Mom tuts, which Tim was expecting, and sets down her curling iron.

"Ridiculous," she mutters. "I don't know why we're paying that school so much in tuition when they can't be bothered to teach you anything. It's a miracle you ever learned to read."

"It's because I'm smart," Tim informs her helpfully, and Mom smiles her special just-for-Tim smile.

"You are," she agrees. "And thank goodness for that. Now, would my smart boy do me a favor?"

Because Tim's smart, he already knows what she's going to ask. He rolls off the bed to his feet. "Curling iron?"

"Yes, please." Mom rolls her chair away from the vanity so he can crawl under it to unplug the curling iron. She plugged it in herself, but that was before she was all dressed up in her expensive dress. "Thank you, Timmy."

"You're welcome," he chirps, crawling back out.

Mom rolls back in front of the vanity, but Tim stays where he is, kneeling next to it so he can watch her put her makeup on. There are a lot of different bottles and brushes and powders involved, but Mom never hesitates. Tim doesn't know how she keeps it all straight.

He likes watching Mom get ready to go out. Sometimes--like tonight--she lets him pick out the jewelry she's gonna wear, and then she chooses her dress and hair and makeup all based on what he picked. Even when the colors don't match, it all fits together like a puzzle...a puzzle she pieces together in seconds after Tim's impulsive choice.

It's really cool.

Tonight, Tim picked pretty, dangly earrings with some kind of red stone (ruby, Mom said when he asked), so Mom picked a black dress. She said it would make the earrings pop, which he didn't get until he saw her wearing it.

Now, he watches her choose lipstick as red as the earrings and asks, "Does the lipstick make the earrings pop, too?"

Mom finishes smoothing it on before she smiles at him. "You tell me."

Tim studies her. The lipstick matches the earrings, but it doesn't draw attention to them the way the plain dress does. He already watched her do her eye stuff, and her eyes look bigger somehow, but they're not colorful like they were when they all went to the opera last week.

"No," he decides. "You went new...neutral?" He waits for her slight nod of confirmation, then continues, encouraged, "You went neutral with your eye stuff and red with your lipstick to make your lips pop."

"Very good," Mom says, smiling. She cups his cheek briefly before turning back to the vanity. "Clever boy."

Tim beams and watches in fascinated silence as she uses some kind of powder. Even though he's staring right at her, he can't tell what the powder actually does. All he knows is that when she's done, her face looks...different. Still pretty, but kinda sharper somehow.

Makeup is like magic, he decides. No matter how many times he watches her get ready, he can never figure it out.

"Can I try?" he asks impulsively.

"Try what?" Mom asks, a little distracted. The cap on one of her bottles is stuck and she's struggling to open it.

"Your makeup!" Tim takes the bottle from her and opens it by using the hem of his shirt to grip it better. Mom can't do that, her dress is all shiny and slippery. "You look pretty, I wanna try."

Mom pauses and then smiles.

"I don't have long before I have to leave," she warns him, "but I don't see why not. Do you want to pick out some lipstick?"

Tim absolutely does. He levers to his feet as, across the room, Dad finally stirs. He's been reading some stuff his assistant from Drake Industries brought by earlier, ignoring them both, but now he says, "Janet" in a weird tone.

"Jack?" Mom asks, even as she directs Tim's attention to the little circles on the bottom of her lipstick tubes that show what color they are. She has a lot of options.

"Janie, really," Dad says. He sounds unhappy, and Tim looks up from comparing two different shades of pink to find him frowning. "You can't mean to let our son--"

He stops mid-sentence and Tim bites back a wince. Dad's in trouble; Tim hasn't seen that look on Mom's face since he told her about his last nanny giving him whiskey to help him sleep when he woke up from bad dreams.

"My son," Mom says very deliberately, "is welcome to express himself however he likes."

Is trying makeup expressing himself? Tim just wants to see if it makes him as pretty as it does Mom.

Either way, that's not a good tone. Tim looks down and concentrates really hard on picking out a lipstick.

"Janet," Dad tries again, weakly. He obviously knows he's in Big Trouble, but for some reason he hasn't apologized yet. Tim tries to psychically tell him to cut his losses and back down, but his telepathy apparently still hasn't kicked in, because Dad says, "It's just that--"

"Do you know what you want to try, sweetheart?" Mom asks, completely ignoring Dad.

Tim looks between his parents, decides to let Dad dig his own grave, and hands Mom the red he settled on.

(If it's the red that most closely resembles the red in Robin's uniform...well, it's not like Mom has any way of knowing that.)

"Excellent choice!" Mom says. She stands up from the vanity and pats her chair. "Take a seat."

Tim does, excited. He's not usually allowed to sit at Mom's vanity.

Lipstick, he learns quickly, feels really weird. He has to sit super still while Mom puts it on him, and it makes his lips feel weirdly heavy, like there's something on them.

Which there is, actually, so...he doesn't know what he was expecting.

Mom hands him a tissue so he can "blot" his lips, just like he's seen her do a million times, and then steps aside so he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"Whoa," Tim says, leaning closer. He makes a few faces, pushing his lips together and out, transfixed by how bright and noticeable they are. It doesn't make him pretty like Mom, but he likes how it looks anyway. "Cool."

Behind him, Dad throws up his hands and leaves the room. He's angry, Tim can tell, but Mom is smiling down at him, so Tim's not worried.

"Do you want to pick eyeshadow next?" she asks.

"Yes, please!"

Prompt #27 was experimentation! Well selected! ♡♡

[mingwrites]

Yunho + Watch ⌚ because everytime I see watches I think of how incredibly pretty it'd look on Yunho's big slender hands 😔

babe your thots are valid and i’m here to validate them…

~

you had always noticed your boss’s hands. they were incredibly sexy on their own, not to mention the expensive rings and watches he adorned them with-symbols of his power and wealth. sometimes you would sit at your desk and think about his hands-the way they were so big and capable, the speed with which they moved when he typed, how they would be able to fill you up so easily…

no more fantasizing, not now that you were getting the real thing. mr. jeong had you sat upon his desk, your legs forced far apart as two of his long, slender fingers disappeared within your core. he looked focused, like he was just doing his job, making you unravel to the point of ecstasy in his less-than-humble office. “dirty girl,” his low voice resonated just above a whisper. “i bet this is what you think about all day at your desk, hm?” just then, his fingertips pressed against your sweet spot just right, and the coil inside you snapped.

your pussy spasmed and throbbed as you came hard before your boss. he watched your expression, moans harmonizing with yours as he continued thrusting his fingers into all the right spots. then something caused him to look down, and when you saw the look of surprise, you knew what had happened. the man chuckled, looking back at your face. “do you always squirt or are my fingers just that good?”

as your orgasm began to subside, he removed his fingers and quickly sucked them clean before he let out a disappointed groan. “shit, baby, you ruined my new watch.” you looked at the flashy object, probably worth thousands, and covered your mouth, mortified. it was dripping with your pleasure, thickly coated in the sticky substance along with most of the man’s arm. “don’t worry, doll, this can be fixed,” he assured you. “but i never knew you’d be such a dirty, messy little slut.”

[moeblob]

My son, Right, and @disappearingreappearingink 's daughter, Kinkaide.

[penumbra-mayhem]

And All That Follows (ch. 2)

aka: Put Your Ear Up to My Wall, Mistake My Heart for A Drumbeat

David fights to keep everything quiet, Asher takes on a new role, and Milo finds Tank (for better or worse).

Ch. 1 // Ch. 3 // ao3 // 4.6k words

(TW: death, car accident, grief, implied/referenced self-harm, vomiting, gore/blood, violence)

EDIT: new title (formerly known as The Fall of an Alpha, but i hated that name so i chose a new one)

————————————————

Sept 3. 2017, 11:52 pm

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

David’s phone started vibrating as soon as he pulled away from the morgue. He’d placed it in his backseat—a habit Gabe had instilled in him years ago so he’d never be tempted to text and drive.

He ignored the buzzing, willing the rain battering against his car to drown out the sound. It worked; his phone eventually went silent, and David’s full attention was brought back to the barely visible road he was traversing.

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

Another call. He contemplated pulling over, but Gabe’s voice hummed in his head: Patience. Not everything needs an answer right away. He decided against it. Whoever was calling would realize he wasn’t available and leave a message. 

The call ended.

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

It started again. And again. And again. And again. As soon as a call ended, another began. He could feel them in his skull, like the buzzing was coming from his brain. Like his head was a freshly shaken wasp nest.

The wasps traveled down into his gut, twisting and tightening his intestines. They kept traveling, moving to his extremities. His hands went numb. Then his feet. He couldn’t feel the steering wheel. Or the gas pedal. Or the brakes. His vision began to tunnel.

No. He didn’t have time for this. He had a job to do. He needed to focus. He needed to get back to his apartment safely. He needed to get the key. He needed to go to his dad’s house. He needed to get into his study. He needed to throw up.

David found himself pulled off on the side of the road, doubled over in the rain, emptying his stomach into a bush. How embarrassing, throwing up like a little kid. That’s enough, he thought to himself, get it together. He stood up straight, but the movement was too quick and he found himself doubled over again.

Everything in him burned as it came up. It stung. 

Retreating back to his car, David quickly checked his phone. Missed calls, voice messages, and texts from various pack members flooded his screen. Someone must have found out what happened. None of them seemed urgent—nor from Asher or Milo—so he put his phone on ‘do not disturb’ and returned it to its place in the back seat.

When he sat down behind the wheel, the wasps were gone. David started the car again and continued back home.

————————————————

Asher cradled his phone, rocking gently in an effort to appease his bawling body. He told himself he had until Milo texted with an update. Then he would pull himself together. His abdomen ached as wave after wave of mourning slammed into him.

He mourned for Gabe. The officer had said he’d died at the scene, but had it been instant? Had he suffered? Did he know he was dying? Did he try to move his legs only to realize he was paralyzed from the waist down? The neck down? Did he frantically gasp for breath as his lungs slowly, agonizingly filled with blood? Had he tried desperately to pry his arm from where it was pinned to reach his phone and call his son just one more time?

He mourned for his pack. Gabe was the founder. They’d never been without him. Would they survive? Would they break into dissension? Crumble apart without leadership? Asher had heard of the devastation past packs had gone through following the death of an alpha or a founder. Gabe had been both. And the pack didn’t even know he was gone. David had said he’d tell them tomorrow at the meeting, but was that the best way?

He mourned for David. David, whose family was already so small. Who already struggled to feel and show his emotions. Asher had seen the initial impacts of this loss. Cold. Detached. Devoid. Would David recover? Was this a wound he could ever heal from? Was he in pain? Asher assumed so, but if David was, he hadn’t shown it. Was he putting on a front, a wall he wouldn’t let anyone see behind? Or was he numb? Was that worrying David? Did he feel guilty he wasn’t feeling anything for his dad’s dea—

buzz buzz

Asher jumped at the vibration in his hands. He rose from the floor and stumbled over to the couch, wiping his face with his shirt. Milo had texted:

At Tank’s place, door was left open

Asher’s stomach dropped. His fingers were a messy flurry as he texted back:

shit

txt updts

or call

davids not bakc

He waited for a reply.

————————————————

Milo pulled into the parking lot of Tank’s apartment complex. He’d past the site of Gabe’s crash on the way, scanning for a glimpse of Tank or their bike. Thankfully, he’d found neither.

But he saw Gabe’s car, and that alone almost sent him into a spiral. No wonder Tank had sounded so wrecked; the driver’s side had crumpled like paper.

As he raced through the parking lot, Milo caught a glimpse of Tank’s motorcycle parked in a large puddle to his right. He’d been right; they’d come back here. Thank god.

Once at the entrance to Tank’s building, he pressed the buzzer for their door and waited. Nothing. He pressed it again. When he was met with the same result, he started pressing every button, hoping someone would let him in. Eventually the door unlocked, and he pushed through.

Milo bounded up the stairwell to Tank’s apartment, slipping and catching himself several times on the rain-slick steps. His throat tightened when he turned a corner and spotted their door at the end of the hall, slightly ajar.

As he walked towards it, he texted Asher:

At Tank’s place, door was left open

After a few moments, his phone buzzed with a series of replies:

shit

txt updts

or call

davids not bakc

When he reached their door, Milo pushed it open further and crept into the apartment. The curtains were all drawn and the lights were off, but Milo could slightly make out a series of objects on the floor. He felt around for a switch and flicked on a light.

All the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen were open and empty, silverware and broken dishes littering the floor of Tank’s tiny studio. Milo could practically track Tank’s movements, following the dents along the wall where they had hurled each cup and plate and fork and knife.

Then his eyes landed on blood—a piece of broken glass on the floor, glistening crimson along its sharp edge. Milo trailed the fat red drops to the closed bathroom door. The sight and faint smell of Tank’s blood made his head spin.

“Tank?” he called out.

A smear of blood glinted on the door handle. He gave two soft knocks. “Tank, please,” he tried again, “I know you’re in there.”

A wretched voice answered from the other side of the door, “Go away.”

He ignored them and tried the handle, grimacing at the slick feeling of fresh blood on his hand. Luckily, they’d left it unlocked.

Pushing the door open, Milo peered inside the dark bathroom. Tank was a huddled mass in the corner of their shower, head buried in their arms.

“I said go away, Miles!” they shouted, raising their head just enough to glare at him over their arms, eyes glinting with fury.

Milo flinched but didn’t leave. Crouching down, he spoke in as calm of a tone as he could muster, “Where’re you hurt, Tank?”

“Get. Out.”

“I’m not gonna do that,” Milo replied, “Can I turn on the light?”

“No,” they snapped.

“Okay." Milo took out his phone and turned on his flashlight instead. He tried to ignore the trail of blood leading to Tank as he opened up their mirror cabinet, then the one under their sink.

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking for your first aid kit.”

“I don’t have a first aid kit,” they sneered.

Milo shined his light at Tank, who shrunk against it, burying their head again in their arms. They were soaking wet from the rain and shaking terribly. He cast the light away from them.

“Just leave!” they moaned.

“No. You’re injured, and since you have nothing to treat it with, I’m taking you back to Ash and David’s,” he retorted.

A snarl gurgled up from deep in Tank’s chest as Milo approached.

“You can growl at me all you want, I don’t give a damn.”

The snarl grew louder the closer he got. But once he kneeled down in front of them, it began to change, breaking up and losing its bite.

“I know,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes as Tank began to cry, “I know, Tank.”

He placed a tentative hand on their arm. They trembled under his touch, but didn’t pull away. 

“Just come with me, please. You don’t have to talk about it. You can be as angry as you want. I don’t care. I just want to make sure you’re safe,” Milo said as he set his phone down, flashlight to the floor.

“I-I am,” they lied, their sobs warping their words. 

“You’re bleeding from somewhere, I saw the blood in the kitchen and in here. So no, you’re not,” Milo countered. 

“…it’s n-n-not b-bad,” Tank lied again. 

“Can I see?”

Tank hesitated, then raised their head. Milo couldn’t make much out. He flipped his phone around, so the light pointed up at the ceiling.

He choked down a gasp at the sight of Tank’s face. The gash just under their left eye was deep, blood still pumping out slowly, drenching their cheek and dripping down their neck. It was in their hair, on their clothes, on their hands.

“Not that bad, my ass,” Milo muttered, “Tank, this needs a healer.”

“No. No healers,” they choked out, tears leaving trails in their blood.

Milo knew accepting any sort of medical help was difficult for Tank. They never talked about it, but he assumed there was some sort of trauma or pride or fear stopping them. He was trying to be understanding, he really was, but it was all too much. It was late, he was spent, Tank was bleeding, and Gabe was dead.

“Fine,” Milo spat, “You either go back to Ash and David’s and let me sew it up, cause it’s going to need stitches, or I stay here and call a damn healer. Your fucking choice.”

That shut them up. Their sobs subsided and they glared with all the fury left in their trembling body before muttering, “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

————————————————

At the sound of the front door opening, Asher sprang up and raced to the hall. "Tank?"

David stood in the doorway, rainwater dripping like tears from his lashes. He looked as stoic as before, but now a sickly tinge covered his features. 

"David," Asher breathed, "Was it...was it him?"

"Yes," he muttered, walking inside and shutting the door, "What happened?"

"What d'you mean?"

"You thought I was Tank." David stopped in front of him. 

"I just uh...hoped..."

“What happened?” David repeated, his voice low and tense. He didn’t have the time nor energy for hesitation. His stare bored into Asher, demanding an answer.

"T-Tank saw Gabe's car," Asher spluttered. David's eyes widened. "They called Milo when they saw it. He had to tell them what happened, he—we couldn’t lie to them. Milo went to their place. He texted me when he got there but he hasn’t updated since.”

Of course. Of course they couldn’t have just waited to tell anyone until David got back. Or until tomorrow, like he told them. David pulled out his phone, turning off ‘do not disturb’. There were more missed calls and texts, but none from Milo or Tank. He pulled up Milo’s contact and called him. 

“Hello?” Milo’s voice oozed with trepidation. 

David’s was dry and sharp. “Is Tank ok?”

“…yes. We’re heading to my car now, we’ll meet you back at your place.”

“Are they hurt?”

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

David started getting another call. He ignored it. 

“Um…” David could tell Milo was choosing his words carefully, but for David’s sake or Tank’s he didn’t know. “Yes, but it’ll be ok.”

David gripped his phone tighter, but kept his rising worry out of his tone. He needed to stay level, anything less would just be detrimental to everyone’s safety.

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

“Take them to a healer.”

David heard Asher mutter ‘fuck’ behind him. There was a long pause on Milo’s end, filled only with the sound of rain and Milo’s breathing as he walked. 

“Milo.”

Finally, he replied, “We’ll be at your place soon.” And with that, Milo hung up.

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

The buzzing in David’s head started again, echoing those from his phone. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket as he stormed past a bewildered Asher and into his bedroom. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

“David? David, what did Milo say? Is Tank ok?” Asher called out as he followed, making the wasps in David’s head angrier. He watched David tear through the drawers of his desk, searching for what, Asher didn’t know. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

Asher called his name several more times before David seemed to hear him. He whipped his head around.

“Is Tank hurt?”

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

“Yes,” David replied before continuing his search, “But Milo says it’s fine, so I’m hoping it’s not too bad. They won’t go to a healer, no surprise there, so they’re coming back here.”

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz… 

“Who is calling you?”

David finally found what he was looking for; he pulled out the key and clipped it onto his key ring. “The pack. Someone must have found out. Maybe the wreck was on the news or someone saw it like Tank did. They’ve been calling since I left the morgue.”

David pushed past Asher again and started heading towards the front door. He fought back the wasps in his head. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz… 

“Are you going to answer?” Asher asked as he followed. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

“No.”

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

“Why not?”

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

He opened the front door. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow,” buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz… “At the pack meeting.”

“David they can’t wait that long,” buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz… “They already know. Or they’ve at least heard rumors. You need to talk to them.”

“Well, I don’t have the time!” buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz… “I’ve got to get to my dad’s house and figure all this shit out,” David growled. The wasps were winning; he was starting to lose focus. He turned to leave. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

“Then let me do it.”

David paused. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

“What?” he asked over his shoulder. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

Asher’s voice took on an edge David had never heard from him before, “Let me go with you and answer the calls,” buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…“I’ll still be near, so you can get to your phone if you need to. But this way, you won’t be distracted, and the pack won’t be left in the dark all night.”

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

David wanted to say no. Having Asher near right now felt like a liability. But he was right. buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…The pack already knew, and keeping them in the dark was only going to incite panic. That and David needed the buzzing to stop, both from his phone and his head. 

buzz buzz buzz…buzz buzz buzz…

David unlocked his phone and handed it to Asher. 

————————————————

“Hey, can you see who just texted me?” Milo asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. 

Tank wiped their hands as well as they could on their jeans before picking up Milo’s phone. 

goin w david 2 gabes

key undr mat

b back l8r

“It’s Ash,” they reported, “He’s going to Gabe’s place with David? He said the key is under the mat and they’ll be back later.”

“Why’re they—nevermind. Can you text him back and let him know we’re almost to his place and also ask if David has a suturing kit? Password’s 0209.”

Almost to ur place, u got a suture kit?

tank???

The one and only, how’d u know?

u txt dif

y do u hav milos phone

He’s driving

oh rite

r u ok

Im fine, suture kit?

david says in bthrm

Gotcha

y do u need it

Dont worry bout it

————————————————

“…yeah Kelsey, it’s true…I know…we don’t know that yet…yes, tomorrow morning at 11…okay…hey, you text me if you need anything…okay…okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, try and get some rest…I will…bye K.” 

Asher ended the call and trotted after David, who was already unlocking Gabe’s front door. He rubbed his eyes in the brief moment of silence before David’s phone started buzzing again. 

“Hey, Mika…yeah, it was a car crash…”

David was stuck in the doorway. The foyer loomed before him, both nauseatingly familiar and eerily alien. His childhood home was now as much a husk as his father was. It made the wasps in David’s stomach writhe. 

Asher was staring at him, David could feel it. So, he took a step inside. Then another. And another. It almost felt like trespassing. 

There was a David who used to live here. Who at seven years old had learned the virtue of honesty when he admitted to breaking the kitchen window. Whose first loose tooth was yanked out by a string attached to the front door. Who used to visit every week after he moved out. Who mended the roof and repainted the baseboards. Who spent countless hours listening to his father’s stories by the fireplace.  

That was not this David, the David treading across the floorboards like a thief. 

He reached his father’s study and unlocked it with the key he’d retrieved earlier. Asher ended his call and said, “I’ll be in the living room. Let me know if you need anything.”

David nodded and walked into the study, closing the door behind him. 

It smelled like him: rosemary, leather, and something distinctly Gabe. The scent should’ve been comforting, but it just stirred the wasps up, making him lightheaded as they whirled.

David switched on the desk lamp. Everything was just as he remembered:

Books lined the walls, organized alphabetically by last name. Stacks of paper sat neatly on the outskirts of the desk’s surface, leaving the middle open for work. A lumpy mug David had made in high school held a collection of pens and pencils. 

David walked around the desk. Three picture frames adorned the polished oak. The first held a pack photo from the previous year’s Solstice. The second held a candid of David’s mother, sticking her tongue out at the camera as she ran through a yard sprinkler. The third held a picture of Gabe and David on their most recent camping trip, their faces wild and beaming. 

On the back of Gabe’s chair hung his jacket. David felt the black leather—soft with use and dedicated upkeep. 

The wasps were stinging his eyes; David pressed his fingers into them, seeing sparks as he crushed the bugs behind his eyelids. He collapsed into the seat and focused on his breathing, forcing the wasps in his chest to move in an orderly fashion. Not here. Not yet. He had a job to do. 

David opened the largest drawer of the desk and began to gather what he needed. 

————————————————

"Shit, Tank, this looks really bad.”

Milo sat back on his heels; the cold of the tile seeped through his pants and into his skin. Tank stayed still in their position on the bathroom floor as Milo leaned in again, holding the needle tight in his hand.

After a moment, he leaned back again, exclaiming, "Fuck, I don't know how to sew stitches! I mean, my mom taught me to sew but skin is so fucking different than fabric. It moves and bleeds and-and, for fuck's sake, it's your face, can we please get a healer?"

Tank scowled but didn't reply, biting the inside of their cheek to keep from snapping.

"Alright, fine. Okay. But I'm gonna have to go slow. I don't know what I'm doing and, again, this is your face," Milo warned them.

"Just let me do it, then," Tank muttered. 

He dismissed the offer, "No, you've got your shaky hand."

"I can use the other."

"No, cause that's not your dominant hand. You've got to do this with your dominant hand, and that's your shaky hand. You're gonna scar real bad if you—”

"I don't care about scars."

"You'll care about this one."

"I have other scars on my face, I really don't care."

"You'll care about this one."

Tank looked away, the weight of the night and how they got there in the first place pulling them back down into silence. Seeing he’d won, for now, Milo breathed deep and tilted Tank’s head up slightly with one hand. He held the needle close to their cheek, whispering, "Okay. I'm gonna start."

Tank winced as the needle pierced their skin, and Milo almost called the whole thing off. But he kept going, and they quickly stopped wincing.

Milo was laser focused, doing his best to keep the stitches small and tidy. But when he was about halfway done, a tear rolled down into the gash, stirring Milo from his concentrated state. He used a gentle thumb to brush away the tears on Tank's cheeks.

"I'm not crying cause it hurts," Tank whispered, "It doesn't hurt."

"I know," Milo murmured, "...almost done."

Despite the circumstances, a sort of morbid satisfaction stirred in Milo at the sight of the bloody rift closing under his hand. It felt good, felt right, to be pulling something back together when everything was falling apart. 

When he finished the last stitch, Milo placed a large bandaid over the gash. Tank stared down at their hands while Milo put away the suturing kit. 

As he began scrubbing the dried blood off his hands in the sink, Tank explained:

“I didn’t mean to do this, you know.”

Milo stayed quiet, giving Tank the space to talk more if they wanted. But the silence just made them feel more pressured to defend themself.

“Well, I did mean to throw that glass, I just, I didn’t mean for it to throw itself back at me,” they clarified.”

“Okay,” Milo said. His tone came out of his mouth light, but fell heavy on Tank’s ears. 

“I wasn’t trying to draw attention to myself,” Tank asserted, their anxiety rising.

“Okay,” Milo repeated. The discussion didn’t need to go any further. He didn’t even know why it was happening in the first place. 

Tank blinked tears from their eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t purposely pull everyone’s attention from Gabe.”

Milo turned around and leaned against the sink, trying to defuse them, “I believe you, Tank. I know you. You would’ve let yourself bleed out in that shower before ever coming to me or anyone else for help. Especially tonight.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Of course it’s a bad thing, Tank!” Milo threw his hands up, gripping tightly onto his braids.

“How is that a bad thing?!?”

“Because you can’t—I just—ugh, I can’t have this conversation right now. I need…I don’t know what I need, but it’s not any more of this,” Milo shot. 

Tank’s face twitched from the blow. They staggered to their feet. “Fine. Then I’ll leave.”

“What? Tank, no—”

“You stitched me up. Thanks. Now I’m leaving.” They threw open the bathroom door. 

Milo followed them down the hall, grumbling, “Tank, you don’t even have a ride.”

“I’ll walk.”

He rolled his eyes. They were being ridiculous.  “That’ll take you forever, especially in this weather.”

Tank whipped around, hissing, “I don’t give a fuck. You don’t need me here, you said it yourself.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Well it sure did fucking sound like it.”

They stormed towards the door, but Milo slipped in front of them and blocked their path. 

“I just meant I don’t need to talk about that anymore!” he exclaimed, gesturing to Tank’s cheek, “We can talk about Gabe. We can talk about how we feel. We can talk about the future and the pack and what this all means going forward. Or we could not talk at all! But I don’t want to talk about shit that’s already happened. I don’t want to talk about shit that didn’t even happen in the first place. That’s not productive.”

“I don’t care about being productive,” they spat. 

“But you care about David, right? If you won’t stay for yourself or for me, stay for him.”

“He’s not even here.”

“But he’ll be back. And you know how he gets; he’s going to need us.”

“He doesn’t need me.”

“Yes, he does,” he groaned. 

Milo’s phone began to vibrate. 

Tank cried out, “No, he doesn’t! He doesn’t need my mess on top of everything else going on.”

As Milo dug his phone out of his pocket, Tank shoved past him and raced out the front door. 

Milo’s heart stuttered at the name on his screen. He rushed to the open door, yelling into the storm, “Tank, stop! Tank, please come back! Tank!”

Tears welling in his eyes, he leaned his weight against the door frame and answered the call. 

“Mom?….yeah, it’s true. Gabe’s dead.”

Wails erupted through his phone, scraping Milo hollow. 

————————————————

David found everything in under ten minutes—unsurprisingly, given how organized Gabe was and how pressed David was to leave. 

When he’d gathered the last of what he needed, he locked the study and walked into the living room. Asher was pacing, on another call of what seemed an endless barrage. He glanced at David and was summoned by a jerk of the latter’s head. 

The two left the house and drove back home, Asher answering calls and texts the whole way back. When they reentered their apartment, they heard Milo’s voice trickling down the hallway:

“Yeah, I know…no, but I’m sure we’ll find out more tomorrow…Oh, David and Ash are back. I’m gonna talk to them and then head over…no the rain has died down, I’ll be fine…yeah…okay, I will, I promise…okay, see you soon…I love you too, ma.”

He looked up at David and Asher. 

“Is Tank okay?” Asher asked. 

“Huh?” Milo replied in a daze. 

“They had to get stitches?”

“Oh right…um, yeah they fell on their way to their apartment after they saw the crash. The rain made their stairwell slippery and they busted their face open. But I stitched them up, best I could,” Milo lied. 

Asher nodded before getting another call. He answered, walking away into the kitchen. 

“Where are they now?” David asked, clutching a  handful of manila folders, a briefcase, and a familiar jacket. 

“They uh,” Milo looked away, “They left.”

The buzzing picked back up in David’s head. “Left?”

“…we got into a fight.”

David breathed out slowly, muttering under his breath, “Tank.”

“No, no, it’s my fault! I was distracted, I wasn’t careful with my words, I wasn’t listening to them. They left, I don’t know where, and I was gonna chase after them but then my mom called and…” Milo wiped the back of his hand across his face. 

The sight of Milo’s tear-streaked cheeks turned the hum in David’s head into a cacophony. 

“I think I’m gonna stay at hers tonight,” Milo croaked as he gathered his things, “She’s really upset.”

“Of course,” David replied, internally cursing that he couldn’t bring himself to say more. 

“I um, I’ll be at the meeting tomorrow. I’ll text Ash for the details,” Milo babbled. He stopped by the front door. “David. If you need anything, you text me. Or call me. You hear?”

“I hear,” David lied, the buzzing in his head drowning everything out.

[impossiblefeat]

Long post of Espio's dialogue in the Mario & Sonic at the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games:

[esperastra]

random avalance gifs [12|∞]

[year2000electronics]

And of course Super Paper Mario and 4. Convince me to give this game another try perhaps :]

4. …why you should choose to check out the world of this story and choose three gifs that should underline my point.

NOTE: i will be forgoing the GIF part and using pictures instead because every single GIF search result has been clogged up with mouth-breathers on the internet who have been arguing over whether SPM is good or bad and have been doing it in GIF form for years. don't believe me? search "super paper mario" on discord's gif search. you'll see it. you always see it.

oh jesus. see the thing about liking super paper mario is that there's a lot of SPM fans out there who really like the game but can't really connect a very important dot as to Why they like the game. (HINT: THEY PLAYED IT WHEN THEY WERE YOUNG AND ARE NOSTALGIC FOR IT SO THE FLAWS IT HAS IS WAY LESS FOR THEM, AND BY PROXY, ME.) IM self aware. i will never be able to hate the game, but i am incredibly aware that the gameplay can be fairly lacking sometimes. if the story doesnt already grip you, it probably wont ever be worth it to go through the gameplay. thats my bit. thats my piece.

(but then youll have people who see how SPM defenders dont like to critique it when it deserves to be critiqued and start going after stuff like "oh the story isnt even that good"? MAN WHY DID YOU BRING THE STORY INTO THIS.)

but i digress. the life of a paper mario fan is a long and hard one.

POINT THE FIRST. MARIO'S "EXPERIMENTAL" ERA.

you can argue that ttyd also fits this bill, and i think it does, but this is about SPM so im focusing on that. if the mario series has never really Gripped you or you havent really been a lifelong fan, i always think the gamecube-wii era of mario has been one of its more interesting moments. the switch renaissance has allowed a breath of creativity to come back into mario, and mario's allowed to be Weird again, but gamecube-wii mario is weird in a really SCUFFED way and i love it. the gamecube's flagship mario game was a LUIGI game where he cant even jump. super paper mario came out before mario galaxy or NSMBwii. that was our mario rep on the wii for a while. mario games get a little crazy, a little weird here. and so what you get is a more melancholic story about the end of all worlds, and exploring what it really means to be a hero, and the closest many games will get to acknowledging that the mario characters can have emotions that arent Perfect. its just such a fascinating era for such a perfectly-marketable franchise and i adore it. it's a testament to what mario can Be, for me. Mario Is Weird. say it with me now!

POINT THE SECOND. GOODBYE TO A WORLD.

i just really like the theme of All Worlds Coming To An End. usually in these sort of things, it's "save the world so the world doesnt end!" but in this game, it really feels like "the world is ending and you have to fight even to have a chance to succeed". it colours the tone of the game in such a fantastic way. many songs in the OST have a ticking clock in them. the inescapable void is even in the hub world. it's like the majora's mask of paper mario. many people talk this up but the fact that in chapter 6, you're beholden to the traditions of a silly king who REFUSES to believe the world is ending even when HIS ENTIRE SKY IS PURPLE, and youre trying so hard to beat this 100-man duel faster and faster, only for the world to end and then youre forced to go back into the chapter and see this GRAVEYARD. it makes it so much more tangible. THIS is what will happen if you fail. and this overhanging melancholy paints the themes of love so much stronger. it's not just a love story, it's a love story in adversity. love conquers all, but what is the "all" in question? well, this. bleakness. sometimes the bleakness is part of the love. sometimes you make a sacrifice in the name of love, and nobody likes it, but you know it must be. the whole game is actually a love story between bleck and tippi and it just grips me so. it's such a multi-faceted depiction of love and loss that it feels so much more real to me, that love isn't always the Magical Solution. love is a sword, a shield, a prayer, a wish, a curse, a blessing, an order, an act of cowardice, an act of bravery, a sacrifice.

(you see what i mean? i can literally only be talking like this because i grew up with this stupid ass game)

POINT THE THIRD. FUCK ALL THAT THOUGH LET'S TALK ABOUT THE BLECK MINIONS.

so, the whole kind of crux of this game is that it's a love story between bleck, the main antagonist, and tippi, your companion, right. if you can't flesh both of them out you're in a bad way. obviously for tippi, she's hanging around you all the time, and you get to hear her journey play out throughout the entire game. BUT WHAT OF BLECK? HE'S HIDING IN HIS CASTLE! how are we supposed to know more about him and learn his story if he is IN HIS CASTLE? well that's why after every chapter, there's this interlude where we CHECK UP ON THE BAD GUYS.

i blame this game entirely for my love of villains. this gang of baddies has so much quirks and personality that i find it hard NOT to love them. they're not just gormless minions of the count- each shows their own personality in their relationship with him. mimi has a puppy-love crush on him, o'chunks has a sort of warrior's bond with him, nastasia pledges herself to him and almost uses the minions she controls as a conduit for her dedication to him, dimentio is like a cat in a bird store, and mr l clearly isnt supposed to be here but i dont think he knows that. the minions bicker amongst themselves but clearly have a bond of cameraderie because it all feels like teasing of people who've known each other for a long time.

you fight each minion at least twice, and even though the lackluster gameplay kinda comes in full force again, you get to see so much PERSONALITY in these guys. mimi is super-bratty but seems to know most people would see her as a monster so leans into it, dimentio is playful and jovial while also having his own motives, o'chunks is bold and brash but asks you to finish him off the second time he fails, mr. l is cocky to a fault and reeks of insecurity. i just love having these guys we can always check up on. it's like lord crump but MOOOOORE.

and through a combo of you inferring things about these people and some of the Deeper Lore (flopside bar stories), you kinda come to learn that these minions were kinda manipulated by bleck when they were at their lowest. mimi is a failed creation of SOMETHING. o'chunks' men all died because there was a traitor in his midst. nastasia was saved from a cage by bleck. and the more you learn about bleck the more you see that he is a man grieving the woman he loved, apathetically trying to end all worlds so the pain would end. he lies to the minion, he says he aims to make perfect new worlds, and they believe him, and they love him, because he saved them.

this sort of birth of a relationship through bleck's pain and manipulation comes through by the end, as the love the minions have for bleck is a KEY part of the final act. and idk it's a bunch of deeply-hurting misfits binding together and accidentally finding love in a world they found loveless. i think thats really cool. i think THEYRE really cool. such an awesome cast of villains.

but yknow. again. this is my childhood game. the special feeling i have for it can't really just be put into words. it's my diamond in the rough and nothing can really change that. it's Home.

[catcze]

Pinterest pose event : MYDEI + LYS

@bladism [ ✨ ]

The prince and his loyal guard omfg 🫣 !! Ok when I tell u I had a VISIONNNN when I saw your ask !!! Waghdjd I had so much fun with this one because your dynamic doesn’t strike me as the kind that is, like, outwardly super lovey-dovey yk ?? But more like the kind of lovers who are more lowkey and prefer to show ur affections in ways that are unique to you two (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

For you two, I think that you both really push each other lots !! Push each others’ buttons ? Push each other to be better versions of yourselves ? lol yes ! But ! There’s also a lot of push and pull to your relationship, lots of competing against each other ( in a way that’s almost flirting LOL ) and you keep each other on your toes ! But I adore how you two are also just fine with beating around each other and being yourselves 🫣 Also ! in ur ask you mentioned the sparring going hard and that stuck with me LOL ٩( 'ω' )و I feel like when you two spar, its actually as beautiful as it is impressive? Like, it’s clear that you’re both evenly matched in power, but also the way you two move, striking, dodging, swinging and predicting each other’s movements almost feels like you’re dancing with each other…. ヾ(๑╹◡╹)ﾉ"

[archie-the-menace]

I went to draw a full body of Rattman and ended up with this. I have a version with Chell’s ponytail too but liked this one better.

In case you can’t read it, the text bubble says “Wow, you both look like total shit.”

[coffeesleep-ooc]

Essay on heartbreak points

Just thinking of LBH pining over SQQ along the novel before he finally gets the man

Pre-abyss LBH wants SQQ, but the thing i see in him is not just wanting him, carnally sexually or otherwise, he wants SQQ’s attention and approval bc he admires him, its as simple as that. Og goods already had his admiration just bc he was a great cultivator, he was elegant and beautiful and worked hard af, it was like…if a polished stone like jade was used to hurt rather than be the soft, warm and flawless concept of beauty - that chinese media usually uses -. But then the cold showed a soft inner core! Yes! Our dear transmigrator took over and confused the hell out of t he poor LBH that still struggled to excuse SJ’s behavior. Then though, SY took care of him with love and with smiles, using mdoern sensibilities to measure things like care and affection…and I think that some of those discrepancies between a hellish setting and a soft oblivious SY must have been quite jarring to LBH. He sees someone that believes in inherent good and is passionate and silly, knowledgeable and kind, and can’t help but want to be close! He admires him so much!!

Still pre-abyss, not only LBH admires the heck out of SY, he is also his shizun, and i don’t forget about his teacher kink but im talking about the dynamics of it instead of anything sexual. LBH knows and firmly believes that his position is way below that of SQQ’s, he is protected and cared for, but he longs to protect and care for as well right? Because he has seen that SQQ is powerful but not above everything, because he is knowledgeable but not all-seeing, because he may be taken advantage of by someone crafty that doesn’t deserve his kindness. LBH pretends to fall and be weak and helpless when it’s convenient for him, but he knows he has to take every advantage he can bc he needs to be strong enough to protect SQQ, because the world has shown him that there are many dangers and that someone not of a peak lord’s status isn’t worth to marry (idk how much about this airplane would have put into his work, but lets remember that ancient chinese marriages were a very foemal and important thing that involved status and wealth, not just love). Let’s remember our bun has also been a street rat and probably saw many things at one point or another! We can only speculate and write fics about that last point, but the street is not a good place to be, especially in a PIDW setting. Also, bc he wasn’t strong enough, quick enough, bc his family had no power or money his mother died, it’s as hurtful and as plain as that for him, even if he knows (does he though?) that it’s not his fault.

Onwards to the abyss! It’s shit. That’s what it is. Shizun who he admires, respects and loves above everything, who told him that nobody was intolerable for the heavens went against every fucking shit he said and coldly forced LBH into the abyss. What the actual fuck SQQ (affectionate), you gave him so many issues fr. I can only imagine how confused the poor LBH must have felt when his Shizun yet again changed tune like this in a way he can’t fully explain this time, even more so, he could try, but it wouldn’t change the fact that LBH is currently in the worst place ever because the person he loves with his whole heart threw him there (and possibly wanted him to stay down there? to become one of its creatures? To die? He has no idea???). LBH has strived to be good, to be worthy in his teacher’s eyes since he entered the sect and he has just gotten proof that he isn’t and will never be even though he had the hope of getting there despite everything. It’s just filled with heartbreak and i think that the system only deducted SQQ’s current total points bc he literally had to die to be deducted any more and LBH can’t have him dead and the system knows that extremely well! It also gave SQQ a scenario push remember? And that was only for LBH’s benefit istg, SQQ had no idea.

and talking about death! Funny thing isn’t it? It’s ridiculous that SQQ dies so many times (srsly bro, wtf - again affectionate) but I believe that the first was the most traumatic for LBH. SQQ doesn’t sneer at him like a disgusting mucus but instead is afraid of him! LBH worked hard to just see SQQ again, to reunite the courage to talk to him and ask him if he regretted what he did, to show him he was a good person and that he had power now, that he could impress him and protect him (he has lost a lot of his own self-esteem base and i do believe that’s part of where heartbreak points come from) the person whom he values the opinion of the most -the only one even- thinks him a beast and an unredeemable demon…and when he tries to peove himself not that, the only thing SQQ does is run away from him, to decide to be silent and refuse even LBH’s (biased) kindness. He wouldn’t even take LBH’s robe! Imagine that you love someone and that someone hates your guts and refuses to even acknowledge that they hurt you, oh, and all this while an evil sword is fighting to take advantage of your negative feelings. Post-abyss is also shit, just a bit better bc LBH has the illusion of control, he thinks he can still control the situation and is slowly losing hope of shizun understanding him. But the illusion shatters when SQQ self-detonates to save him. The one he supposedly hates. LBH is probably just eternally confused in sv now that i think about it lmao *pats consolingly*

post death 1 (actually 2 for SY): LBH thought he knew shizun, then he realized he couldn’t explain everything shizun did. Then he tried to ask, not even for a full explanation, just to know if shizun really did hate him (bc LBH truly doesn’t care at that point what SQQ does or what SQQ’s reasons and actions were as long as he still loves him, smhw he is so…) and got instead a blow up in his face, coupled with other ppl’s accounts of SQQ mourning him like he was actually truly dead, missing him and finally he sees SQQ sacrificing himself for him. This surely must be enough fpr LBH right? Well…not really, SQQ could have been sacrificing himself to protect the ppl around him - LQG is there and we all know that LBH is mildly sus of him at this point, it will get worse later when LQG is the one coming by every fucking day to retrieve SQQ’s corpse so mhm…its possible LBH thought they had something (not necessarily romantic) at some point, or that LQG and the other ppl were important enough to sacrifice his life for. Not only that, but shizun was not rejoicing when he came back, he never said anything. He killed himself in everyone’s pov -but SQH’s-without explanation, in the most tragic and confusing way of all, saying he would repay LBH…lets also remember that repaying someone can mean completely cutting ties and leaving with a clean slate. And the only actual thing he did was show LBH he didn’t have actual control over the situation and that it was possible to be completely powerful and still lose the ones you love and care about. Idk (or don’t remember haha…) the moment LBH started building the bamboo house in the demonic realm, but it says a lot about what he wants and what he dreams about, the most probable things he is feeling at this point is desperation and melancholy, nostalgia. He longs for the days where he was secure in the knowledge of Shizun’s affection for him, no matter what kind of affection it was, but at the same time is bittersweet because he knows that shizun will never love him foe who he is and that drives him mad with heartbreak that is just building up over time. He will also feel incredibly guilty over SQQ repaying him with his life, because all he ever wanted was basic communication but Shen ‘i am so emotionally repressed i can’t even tell what I’m actually feeling’ Qingqiu obviously thought he was being hunted for revenge. So rip LBH, he wanted an explanation or just a simple ‘i regret it’ but what he gets is confusion, a corpse he has to reanimate asap, and incredible guilt + more damage to his self esteem

Then SQQ comes back and doesn’t even try to search fpr him? And everything becomes a huge mess quite quickly. But. Luo Binghe watches his shizun go back to his martial family and interact with them in a way that he doesn’t interact with LBH anymore. LBH gets his face rubbed with the fact that what he strongly wishes for (going back) is impossible because he made the mistake of being born. Which, would demoralize the strongest of us honestly. And uta been so long since i read sv that I don’t remember much, but im sure that LBH can’t even think that SQQ does care for him, the trauma and insecurity, the abandonment issues have grown so big that they are like a bull in a china shop, ready to shatter everything in short range. Its only when SQQ gives his life (LBH does not know this but he is aware that SQQ would not have used papapa to save the world with just everyone) and gives him something he kept for so long - and that LBH himself thinks is precious despite being worthless - that he understands a bit that shozun may not hate him so much. I’m surprised that heartbreak points weren’t so used or that we didn’t get reminded of them through the story, because it would have given us an inkling of how LBH was feeling, but also spoilers and SQQ’s obliviousness, i imagine that at the end of sv they would have been lower than what they were (in truth) at the IAC but not completely gone

finally, i think that heartbreak points could be used to gauge how traumatized poor LBH was at eaxh point in time, but also to measure the state of his self esteem and the level of hope he had according to the way SQQ acted along the novel. I think that the points were all gone at some point (i eont remember anymore -cries- ) but i fullly believe that post canon Binghe still has heartbreak points and a whole lot of issuws that start to slowly disappear as thwir relationahip progresses. The only thing is that LBH still ties his own worth to SQQ’s opinion of him, and he will have heartbreak points again if he misunderstands SQQ st any point (unlikely but still).

Anyways…

THIS POOR BABY BREAKS MY HEART! He was terrible but he was also very human and truly, he deserves good.

Sorry about the rambling essay! :D

[evolmyheart]

🌀Disoriented and confused - @sylus-hds-7213

Upset Muse Meme

Another deal. Another meeting. Another moment surrounded by shady characters who clearly had it out for Sylus—and by extension, her. You’d think by now Amaryllis would be used to this: their malicious stares, the watchful eyes, the fingers itching to pull the trigger. And she was, mostly. But still, that flicker of unease crept in, betraying itself in the light tapping of her foot under the table.

Relax, Sweetie. You're going to burn a hole through the floor at this rate.

A soft whisper, followed by a gentle hand on her thigh, stopped the tapping. She glanced at the hand, eyes lifting to meet Sylus's gaze. His signature smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He was right. She needed to relax. It was just another typical deal, and if things went south, she'd have his back—like always. She placed her hand over his, squeezing it lightly as both of them focused on the deal at hand.

The meeting seemed to be winding down, everything going smoothly. But then, something shifted. The air grew heavy with murderous intent, the tension so thick it felt as if it could snap with the slightest movement. And then... BANG!

A deafening crack shattered the stillness, followed by a blinding flash. Everything went white. Her ears rang, the noise slicing through her mind like a blade. The room spun around her, disorienting and dizzying. She tried to stand, but the floor felt like it was tilting, throwing her off balance. She stumbled forward, lost in the chaos. Shouts and frantic voices mingled with the ringing in her ears, only making everything worse. And worst of all—she couldn't find Sylus. He had been right beside her. Where did he go?

Amaryllis pushed through the mayhem, desperately fighting her way through the confusion. Her hand brushed the wall, and she used it to guide her toward the exit, struggling to regain her bearings.

She reached the door, her fingers wrapping around the handle, but before she could turn it, a strong grip caught her wrist. Instinct kicked in. Amaryllis spun on her heel, her free hand already drawing her pistol, but she froze the instant she saw who had grabbed her.

Whoa there, Kitten. It's me.

The familiar voice, smooth and calm, cut through the chaos. Sylus. She lowered the gun slowly, relief flooding her chest.

"You know better than to just grab me like that," she huffed, holstering her pistol—almost missing it completely. Amaryllis shook her head; she still wasn’t fully recovered. The hand that had gripped her wrist now steadied her by the elbow.

"Sorry... I'm just a little off," she lied. It was more than that. Somewhere in the chaos, she had been injured, blood trickling down her leg. No wonder the dizziness refused to fade.

[mystical-salamander]

rules — shuffle your “on repeat playlist” and list the first ten songs, then tag ten people

Thanks for the tag @friendly-jester !!

New Genesis – Ado

Mortal Reminder – Pentakill

The Whole "Being Dead Thing" – Beetlejuice Original Broadway Cast Recording

That Beautiful Sound – Beetlejuice Original Broadway Cast Recording

Prologue: Invisible – Beetlejuice Original Broadway Cast Recording

Rell, The Iron Maiden – League of Legends

Money – Mystery Skulls

Dead Mom – Beetlejuice Original Broadway Cast Recording

Backlight– Ado

A Pizza the Action - The Stupendium

No pressure tagging: @digital-gargoyle @thatonegreyghost @astudyinpanda @astralalmighty @foxxxtransformer123 @seth-shitposts @never-ending-fanfic @ahsoka-its-all-of-us and anyone else who wants to play

[hiphopcherrrypop]

55! My lucky number

lalalalala i like u!

this one uhmmmm.. halloween even tho it's december josuyasu 👍

except i realized too late that i was thinking of lovey dovey mv LOL.. but whatever they can be roly poly too i guess

[megantronusprime]

y'all ever think about the 10 years engie spent as a roughneck in the oilpatch? because I do.

Like, do you think he was trying to break away from the family legacy of becoming a mercenary? that maybe that boy in the picture, trying his father's goggles wanted nothing more than to be an engineer just like his daddy - even had a natural knack for it too, said his dad, just like him and his father before him - and was too young to see clearly the toll it took on him and his family? do you think that, as he got older, he would begin to recognize the extremes his father and grandfather went to for their work, obsessing over it, even experimenting on their own bodies. do you think he came across his mother crying at the kitchen table late one night, unable to recognize the loving man she married who now never came home and obsessed over his work, and decided right then and there that he wasn't going to be that man to his family? that he was going to forge his own path - be his own man, and break free from the Conagher family curse?

so, maybe, at the age of 18, he began working as a roughneck in the oilfields of west Texas. It was hard manual labour, long days spent on drilling rigs with the Texas sun beating down on him, but it was good money, and though some of his coworkers were rough most of them were good enough guys and he along with most of 'em. and hey, sometimes maybe there were even on-the-spot practical problems to be solved - issues with the drill that in a fast-paced environment like that couldn't wait for a proper tech to come around and solve? and in those moments, engie would step in and fix the issue quickly, working without hesitation, like it was second nature to him. And maybe his coworkers would always remark upon his natural aptitude? ("you're in the wrong line of work, Dell.") Maybe he would shrug it off, say it weren't nothin' - just hung around his father a lot growin' up and learned a thing or two - but deep inside, he hoped for more of those opportunities to fix things, and maybe those little moments of on-the-spot fixes were the very things he looked forward to most. And maybe, even as he gained a reputation for being a mr. fix-it amongst his coworkers, given odd things outside of work to tinker on, it wasn't enough. maybe slowly, over the years, with each thing he worked on, the flames of his intellectual curiosity were stoked more and more, until eventually, he went back home and visited his mom, during his week off. And, late one night, against his better judgement, he went into his father's workshop - untouched, everything covered in a layer of dust (he hadn't been home in years). he knew he shouldn't. He could feel the gnawing at him, the voice demanding him to give in to his intellectual curiosity and follow in his father's footsteps getting louder. He had been trying to fight it, but he finally reached his breaking point and went into his father's blueprints. that was what tipped him over the edge. He spent the whole night, locked away in his father's workshop, poring over each design, his mind racing with ideas of how he could make it better. He couldn't stand it anymore, he needed more. When the sun came back up again, Dell informed his mother that after 10 years, he was quitting his job and enrolling for university. and although he was certain that he would not become the same man his father and grandfather was, as sure as he would be an engineer, but do it differently and not succumb to the family curse. And although his mother smiled, ever gentle and encouraging of her son, coffee mug in hand, there was a sadness in her eyes. Because she knew that Dell always had the same tenacity and obsessive intellectual curiosity his father has. And if Dell was going to do this, there was no moderation. He was going to fling himself into it completely, lose sleep, lose focus of everything else. And she was right.

...

OR maybe he always knew he was going to be an engineer and was like, "well, I'm going to do a whole lot of schooling, so what's the best way to save up for tuition? oh yeah! work in the oilfield for a few years :)" lol

[bergoop]

The fact that Shane said that people who touch/fondle their hair a lot most likely have a hair pulling kink when THIS MAN IS ALWAYS RUNNING HIS HANDS THROUGH HIS HAIR??! Shane?? The call is coming from inside the house, I’m afraid.

Hi Anon!

OK so... did he know he was telling on himself so bad? Because you're right! Shane plays with his own hair more than anybody else I can think of. Even when he's not playing with it, sometimes the video will be edited/cut to a different time and its been messed up, so you KNOW he's been doing it off-camera.

i think he's proud of his hair! and to be fair, it IS very nice hair. it looks soft and smooth and i'd like to touch it and tug it, too who said that

anyway back to the call coming from inside the house. i think he doesn't know. it seems kind of like an unconscious action, so he probably thinks he doesn't do it too much, when in reality, he's touching it all the time!

im not saying shane has a hair pulling kink... but im not NOT saying it. (disclaimer: we like to have fun here! this is not too serious. and now, i will get weirder.)

I'd also like to talk briefly about... his forcefulness.

He was NOT gentle with it in prev post and that's not the only example!

Take a look at this bit from a 2020 BFU video:

sir what are you doing that is a straight up TUG.

this might be my imagination, but he gets an interesting expression after he pulls it - like he was really enjoying it.

and i'd like to say that's where he was like, oh, i should probably stop pulling my hair on camera because it feels a little too good. except… he goes in AGAIN right after!

He really can't keep his hands off!

He seems to enjoy/be used to pulling it HARD. and if prev post is any indication… he's quick to have other people pull on it too :3c

OK thanks for coming to my Hair Pull TED talk. love you bye