#reck/less

[amischiefofmuses]

Do Arlo and Recks hook up? 👀

ASK MY OCS SOME QUESTIONS || ACCEPTING

-- ❝What..? No no- Satan NO. He's my boss, that's a boundary I just won't cross. Shit is complex enough without throwing that into the fuckin' mix.❞ And that's without acknowledging the fact that his boss is an awful bastard, he knows better than to talk shit about someone when it can make its way back to them.

-- ❝I fucking WISH- but he's all about privacy and not mixing work with pleasure. Who'd have thought a succubus would be a prude, ey? Just my luck.❞

[krypticcafe]

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

[squiddy-god]

general hcs for dorm leaders

Re-upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme

Riddle Rosehearts ❤🌹❤

Is slightly more lenient with you then others but will still 100% scolded you if you break the rules

Will be the happiest boy if you make him sweets like tarts. Please cook for him. Please be gentle with him.

Gets all pouty and blushy if you tease him (especially about his height if your taller then him)

Gets super flustered if you h*old h*nds with him

Not big on pda as it’s against school rules but maybe a lil bitty kissy here and there won’t hurt

Floyd teases him endlessly about how cute you two are, his little shrimpy and goldfish together makes the eel twin so happy

Please be gentle with him and let him know that it’s ok to mess up sometimes

He would not hesitate to pop off at someone for talking shit about you. Talk down to his s/o and it’s off with your head

Riddles Jealousy is rooted in both protectiveness and insecurity. Riddle wants to protect you, make you happy so if he sees you with bad influences he gets jealous, but he won’t say anything just get pouty. The other half is with the insecurity that you’d want someone more layed back or who yells less

Is jealous of Floyd, Leona and kalim as they are generally layed back and “more fun”

Azul Ashengrotto 💜🐙💜

Even After you two get together it takes azul a long time to fully trust you, the man has walls and oh boy are they thicc

Once he knows 100% he can trust you, he does almost a complete 180, suddenly azul is kinda dorkyand more open, granted still a little closed off.

DO NOT play monopoly with this man! He will reck your shit. The man will con you into paper debt and his web of hotels that litter the bord

Is confident enough in public to hold your hand and maybe give it a gentlemanly kiss, but on the inside? Azul. Exe has stopped working, please call idia for tech support

Sometimes he needs consoleing, he’s insecure and he wants a relationship were you two can lift each other up

The tweels tease him MERCILESSLY~ oh hoho little baby azul finally got a s/o~

LOVES to just like? Hold you gently? And just like? Be SOfT with you?

If someone talks down to his s/o he’s still calm on the outside but inside? Bubbling rage. He won’t have someone bullying his s/o. It’s leech time.

His jealousy is almost completely rooted in insecurity. He’s done bad things and he’s worried you want someone who Hasn’t, someone who’s a better person and who can make you happier, he will simply sulk about his jealousy

He’s Jealous of Jack, Carter and even a little bit jealous of idia as for the most part they are good people without a shady past

Vil Schoenheit ✨🍎✨

His precious potato, but don’t get him rong, you’re the most stunning lil potato

Spa days! So many spa days with vil, he has to keep both of your skin flawless ✨

Your the only one who gets to see him without makeup on. He trust you to see him in a more vulnerable state

Get ready to watch rom-coms and judge the shit fashion and actions of the main girl every Friday night

Yes you may be a (stunning) potato but God forbid anyone talk down to you. In his eyes you’re 1000x better than the other potatos so how dare someone talk shit about you. A couple rumors later and that persons image is ruined.

He’s 50/50 with pda. On one hand it messed up his makeup if you kiss him and wrinkles his clothes big you hug him, so hell no, but on the other hand he loves to show you off. So maybe some hand holding and just being close to him.

Plans super romantic dates in cute Athstetic cafes and spas

You best fucking believe your outfits match! The amount of planning vil go’s through is honestly super cute.

Do his hair in pretty braids it makes him melt

Vils jealousy is routed in absolute bullshit and emotional Insucutiys. Vil doesn’t get jealous often because how could you ever want to leave someone as beautiful as him so seeing you eye someone is fine as he knows he’s better, but seeing you be friendly with others? Hella jealous. He won’t admit it but he’s afraid you’ll leave him for someone less self centered.

He gets jealous of rook, jade, and hella jealous of idia (witch pisses him off because idia is a emo shut in, but vil doesn’t want another ghost bride Incident) this is because they are less self-centered but still attractive (even idia lmao but he won’t admit it. Ever.)

Malleus Draconia 🖤🐉🖤

Legit thinks you are the cutest thing ajdjsiksd his cute little child of man

You don’t know how his fae heart swoons when you invite him on dates or on little walks to class

If your awake and willing he’ll invite you to come with him on midnight walks

His favorite dates are walks through the forest and cute picnics were you can talk away from prying eyes

He doesn’t see why pda is considered bad, but also doesn’t do much of it, its a human thing he doesn’t understand, He’ll hold your hand and give you head kisses but if he goes to far please tell him. He wants to respect your boundaries

Imagine if you will, going on a midnight stroll with malleus through the woods, the moon is full and lights the woods, after a while, now deep in the woods, you and malleus just stand there and start to sway back and forth.

Eventually your softly dancing and falling sleepy, malleus kisses your head and leads you back to ramshackle, tucks you in, and then gos back to disomnia (might write that)

I pray for the poor bastard who is stupid brave enough to bullying or talk shit about the s/o of malleus draconia. That’ll stop real quick, and oh boy if they decide to physically hurt you? Hahahaha don’t.

He doesn’t get jealous often but when he does it’s out of protectiveness and Insucutiys, he wants to protect you as you are his s/o and a small child of man, he also knows he’s typically a loner and is very intimidating, because of this he fears you’ll leave for someone more extroverted and less intimidating

He’s jealous of kalim, ruggie and ace as they extroverted and easily Aprochable

Leona kingscholar 🧡🦁🧡

Lazy days and mid afternoon naps are his go-to dates

Get ready to have to drag him out of his room so that he can go to class

Will be grumpy with everyone but like is super soft with you

Brags about how he has a s/o, and how they are awesome

When he isn’t sleeping, dates are simple and cute, likes taking you on walks around campus or watching movies with snuggles

He loves to watch you cook so he can 1) eat food 2) walk up behind you and wrap his arms around you

Let’s you put little braids in his hair and likes when you do it while he sleeps

Please let he sleep in your lap, please, he needs it.

Gives not a single fuck about pda. If he’s goona kiss you then other people can fuck off. Will hold your hand if you initiate it

Ok look, generally he doesn’t give a fuck about things like drama and such so if someone talks shit it’s annoying but he doesn’t do much, but, on the occasion that this “drama” Happens to be someone bullying or HURTING his s/o? They best prepare to get punched

His jealousy is rooted in protectiveness and possessiveness. Leona is slightly possessive of you, nothing serious or even close to yandere-ish, more of like “ok but whhhyyyyy can’t you nap with me all day your MY s/O and I’m YOUR bf ” And he also wants to protect you. Get more protective after the bolt thing.

Gets jealous of Jack, and his nephew

Kalim Al-asim 💛☀💛

Your relationship is honestly so wholesome and sweet it gives jamil cavities

Surprisingly, he’s a lot more calm around you! Don’t get me rong he’s still happy go lucky and hyper but he can also be soft and calm-ish

Dates are always spontaneous and super fun! His favorite dates are at amusement parks or party’s!

Will enthusiastically drag you around to play games and have fun around the park!

Soft giggles and morning cuddles are absolutely precious

100% has you as his lock screen with hears ‘n such and it’s adorable because yours is the same but with him

He trusts you so much that he shares alot with you, like if he’s feeling sad or even a little jealous he’ll tell you because he trusts you!

If someone is talking crap then he’ll confront them about being rude but won’t get physical, he’ll be protective and try to console you.

Doesn’t really get jealous much but when he does it’s just him pouting that you arnt spending enough time with him.

He jets jealous ace and deuce because they spend a lot of time with you

Idia shroud 💙💀💙

Precious shy goth boy is shy

Will be randomly thinking about you and he just loves you so much he combusts, literally. He’ll be thinking about you and then fwoom suddenly his hair is as red as his cheeks and the room is on fire

At first he’s super, super shy about physical affection and even a hand on his shoulder sets him on fire, After a while he’s still a shy boy and stutters but he’s more comfortable… And a absolute cuddle monster. He wants to have you sit in his lap while he games or programs, or just cuddle you and play on the switch

Dates are 98%in his room, watching cheesey horror movies and anime, if it’s not a cute inside date it’s taking orto to the park because your the only one who can get idia outside, or it’s cute little walks

When he has to go outside and he inevitably starts getting paranoid and panicked you calm him down, not completely but enough to be at least some what ok.

how can he do pda if he’s always inside? Jkjk , if he is outside it’s almost always with you. He’s way to shy so almost no pda, I say almost because he still wants to be close to you as you make him less anxious. He’ll always lock pinkies

You know he’s panicking not only because he shakes slightly and looks terrified, but also because his large hands with completely engulfe yours

You the background of all his PC monitors

Hears people talk shit and the tips of his hair turns red, and if he finds out some one is actively bullying you he’s super angry and kinda blames himself because he knows how it feels (if he also isn’t being bullied) but after that he straight up black mails them/ruins their lives. Gods forbid someone physically hurts you because he almost sets Ignyhide dorm on fire, if he ruind their lives before, oh boy are they goona get it. Might actually straight up almost beat someone to death before sulking and isolating for the next century.

Idia is very insecure and often sullks or gets grumpy when jealous. His jealousy is routed in insecurity. He’s afraid you’ll leave him for literally anything, he’s a naturally dark person and also a antisocial weeb, the shroud family are the long relatives of Hades and cursed with death and sadness to fallow close behind, you know this and he’s afraid you’ll leave him.

Is jealous of Azul (a lot) kalim and Leona (hella lot)

[starwrighter]

A DpxDc prompt because I <3 all of you but am too shy to talk in the discord.

The Subnautica au I promised! (I might make two of them)

Okay, so Danny is around 14 or 15 in this. He is still a halfa but the portal has been temporarily closed for plot reasons. So the portal is closed and Danny has no clue what to do now. Due to the portal being closed Danny's grades have improved exponentially enough that he gets an work offer from Altera (ignore the child labor it's the Giw/Altera's shady business practices fault)

Danny is ecstatic because he's finally getting the opportunity to go to space! He knows if he waits the portal will be reopened and he'll never have a chance like this again so he takes it. In less than a month Danny has been trained and is shipped off to the Aurora. He's heading towards planet 4546b with very little information on the planet itself.

The crash happens and Danny doesn't use his powers to save the ship because something around the atmosphere was preventing full accessing his powers in full. Danny scrambles to the life pods and ends up being the only one in life pod five. The whole life pod scene happens with Danny being knocked out by the panel flying off the wall.

He wakes up with the life pod on fire and quickly uses what he can of his ice powers to put it out not realizing there's a fire extinguisher. Danny exits the life pod and realizes that a lot of people he talked to on the ship not even a day ago were probably dead. Judging by his inability to go ghost, he wouldn't be reuniting with them in the ghost zone any time soon.

He is devastated but goes about exploring and trying to find any other survivors. His hope of finding survivors near the crash zone dies when the ship explodes and starts leaking deadly radiation. Danny of course rushes to try and fix this. It's easier for him to get there because he can stay under water for an inhuman amount of time and has a built up immunity to radiation as a halfa.

Now to the DC part of this. Let's stick with only the batfam existing in this universe. The entire batfam are classified as leviathan's. All of them have two forms with one of said forms being semi humanoid mer like appearance. They are still pretty big in this form, think 7-8ft at the smallest (aka Damian) The other form is something I like to call

Big f-ken fish™

Which is full on terrifying reapers (we'll decide what each of the fam specifically look like later) and a lot of them are chilling in the crash zone when Danny is fixing the Aurora's reactor. Danny has not yet been spotted by the reapers.

Now they're already pissed off because a big arse ship just crashed into their planet and destroyed a great deal of it. They don't exactly know what a space ship is but they do know that the technology is advanced and the only thing remotely close on their planet is from the precursors who were a bunch of pricks.

Before the explosion the fam kept an eye on the weird creatures that crawled out of the metal eggs They watch them almost immediately start dying from predators or Kharaa. They were there when the ship exploded and started leaking radiation and killing the local wild life much to Damian's despair.

So the Fam are pretty pissed off at this point and are circling the ship. They immediately noticed when the ship stops leaking radiation and spot Danny swimming away from the reck quicker than any of the other ones that crawled out of the eggs.

Granted most of the other ones from the eggs immediately died and didn't have faces (the wet suits looked weird and Danny refuses to wear them no matter how much easier they would make things >:(

They start watching him because obviously there's something odd about this thing it looks kinda like a much smaller version of their smaller forms. Danny is getting pretty ticked off that his PDA keeps making false alarms of leviathan's. Duke, and tim are the ones monitoring Danny in the safe shallows. Jason and Dick in the crash zone. Barbra and Stephanie in the kelp forest. Cass and Bruce are patrolling the grassy plateaus.Damian is by himself at the quarantine gun/ sunbeam landing sight.

Danny sets up base near the quarantine gun™ because for some reason even though he's not infected he can't turn the damn thing off. So Damian is the only one currently capable of watching him. Damian has a theory that he 100% sure is correct. As a 1600 year old leviathan he's not a baby he's almost an adult and doesn't remember being a baby. This thing crawled out of an egg and is super tiny so it is obviously a baby and a very smart one at that. While it didn't have the claws, gills, tail, or scales they had it was super fast, could freeze things, had super strong hands despite looking dull and frail, it could take useless scraps and rocks and turn them into complex structures. It was obviously a new type of leviathan the ship carrying eggs. Danny was the smallest of the babies but he was also the strongest, and smartest; surviving long enough to have eyes and hair. This baby was young enough that he still needed to surface for air he needed to be protected.

Danny has no clue he's now being stalked by a group of reapers that decided he was their new baby brother/son

[kookygranger]

Spirit in the Sky

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Steve finds you. You begin to wish he’d left you alone.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au, drink driving, motorcycle crash, ghostrider!steve, smut

Word count: 2.5k

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter Two

3 years ago

He’d had one too many. It was evident in the way it took him three goes to kickstart his bike and peel off from the curb by the bar, helmet on as if that would protect him from lowered inhibitions; delayed reflexes.

Maybe he’d revelled too much in the glory of the jump he’d pulled off earlier in the night during the show. A distance only ever attempted once before, cleared with ease by the newest hotshot on the stunt rider scene. Maybe he should’ve been more wary of the way his heart raced when the crowd roared for him. Maybe he should’ve recognised the danger in his desperate need for approval when the senior member of the team told him that he was one helluva rider and bought him another drink.

These were all things that crossed his mind rapidly when he clipped some debris lying on a back road he was only taking to avoid getting pulled over and lost control of his bike. That part seemed to go on for an eternity before he was thrown in the air. He didn’t remember landing or feeling any pain when he came too. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything and wasn’t even sure that he was conscious.

Especially when his view of the stars was blocked by him.

He was merely a shadow at first. A dark abyss that made less sense the longer you stared, Steve felt his chest expand and deflate rapidly but couldn’t pinpoint the feeling of his heart racing underneath.

When his form finally came into focus, the smile on his face was enough to tell Steve that something wasn’t right. All of a sudden, he was standing in front of the man and in view of the reck that was his bike across the other side of the small intersection. When he looked down at his body there wasn’t a scratch on him. And when he went to take his helmet off, he realised it was crushed on the ground a few feet away.

“That was a nasty one son.”

His voice, although calm, sent a shiver down his spine.

“W-what happened?”

The man only smiled again and Steve realised he didn’t need it explained. That he hadn’t miraculously and impossibly come away from a crash like that unscathed. That he wasn’t as invincible as he so foolishly thought.

“Where am I?”

“You’re at a crossroads son.”

Steve quirked his brow, thinking that was an obvious statement before it sunk in. Before it clicked that this man wasn’t here to help him move on peacefully. And just as he thought it the man began to explain that he was willing to offer him a deal.

Now, Steve wasn’t religious by any means, but he was aware enough to know that accepting a deal from the devil wouldn’t ever work out in his favour. That he needed to resist temptation to save his soul.

Soul. The man kept bringing that up. He wanted it. Wanted Steve’s, for whatever reason. And Steve was ready to walk away, whatever that meant because it had to be the right choice. The good choice.

Until he promised him something in exchange that had the rhythm of his heart returning to his chest.

***

The smell of summer rain always put you in a certain mood. Lifted you outside of your life and took you places you’d find in your best dreams. The rare ones.

Today was no different as the petrichor wafted in from the high open windows around the diner, a slight breeze to relieve the steamy heat within. Except your dreams had taken the shape of someone in particular lately. And his hazel eyes and mole-flecked skin were on your mind constantly since your ride around town the other night.

It only slightly takes you by surprise when you find him leaning up against the red brick of the diner, smoking under the small awning by the back door as the rain continues to patter against the pavement. His hair and shoulders are a little damp, his smile small and untameable as you approach him with a garbage bag in hand.

“It’s employees only back here I’m afraid.”

He cocks his head as you stand in front of him, the tip of your shoe rubbing against your calf.

“I’m not allowed to enjoy the view?” It might be sarcasm. The dingy bins that give off an odour on hotter days and the bitumen full of potholes and cracks, not exactly an oasis for employee breaks. But you follow his eyeline to the dense forest across the way and wonder if it makes him feel the same way it does to you when you stare at it every day and think.

You don’t find out. Instead, he takes the trash bag off you and dumps it in one of the big metal bins, rain drops making his t-shirt a little more translucent when he’s standing in front of you again. Only looking away when your back hits the wall and your eyes close on instinct as you feel his breath against your face.

He hadn’t kissed you the other night. Only told you that he’d see you soon, his eyes lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he gently took his helmet from your grasp and put it on himself. He didn’t pull away until you got inside your house safely, too scared to look back and realise that you’d officially gone too far in your daydreaming this time. But then you thought about it, and you couldn’t help the sinking of disappointment in your chest. He hadn’t kissed you.

All the dwelling since then is washed away when his lips find yours.

Unhurried, soft, deep kisses that have you melting against the wall, Steve tightening his grip around your waist when you begin to slide. He smirks at the dazed look on your face when you come up for air, trying to play off the way his heart is racing.

“You free tonight?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his question. Completely uncaring of whether that’s true.

He leans in for another long kiss, then pecks along your jaw.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Seven?” You barely recognise the breathy voice that leaves you.

He kisses you again.

“Seven.”

His confirmation repeats in your head for the rest of your shift. Puzzling one of the other waitresses when she asks you how many cokes you need for table four.

“Seven?”

***

You consider changing, thinking that a dress was an inappropriate choice as you stop in front of Steve’s bike, still running, after you’d bounded down the path from your house before he’d gotten the chance to kill the engine.

But you’re slightly thankful for your improper choice as his hand finds your bare thigh once everything’s tucked into place to protect your modesty. There’s hardly anything between you, Steve, and the bike – and the thought alone sends a thrill through your normally overcautious mind.

He takes you to a secluded spot in the trees, overlooking part of the town. Lights from the houses and businesses on the main street twinkling in front of you.

You don’t notice the bag strapped to the back of his bike until he starts pulling things from it. A blanket, that you pretend not to observe still has the tag on, a couple of sandwiches, two bottles of soda and two plastic containers with a slice of cake in each. One chocolate, one vanilla with fresh fruit on top.

You go to thank him for all the trouble as you sit down and he places everything in between you, but he cuts you off, eyeing all the store-bought items.

“It isn’t much, I know.”

You don’t hesitate to correct him, “It’s perfect, Steve. Thank you.” He looks up at you. “I’m just curious to know if the chocolate cake is for you or me.”

He smiles, “You can have both if you want.”

“Good answer.”

The picnic is devoured quickly in between conversation, and it isn’t long until you’re watching the stars in between fluttering eyelids as Steve kisses your neck. He’s on top of you, still fully clothed and taking things painfully slow as if he’s happy just getting acquainted with your neck. While it’s appreciated – you’re itching to be consumed by him entirely. You guide his hand from your waist, leading it further down until it gets to the hem of your dress. He stops you when you begin to guide him up again, pulling away from your neck to look at you.

“Are you sure?” His voice is hoarse, eyes slightly glazed over but the pinch in his brows tells you his question is genuine. When you nod, followed by a whispered yes when he doesn’t immediately resume, he leans back in to capture your lips, his thumb tickling your inner thigh as his hand travels up.

He’s just about to reach where you’re aching for him most when the sound of car tyres stops you both. By the time headlights reach you, two cars pulling in a bit further down from your spot on the ground, you’re both sitting up.

“Shit.”

Steve whispers and you giggle at the flustered way his hand rakes through his wild hair, “Sorry, I should’ve told you. It’s kind of a popular spot with the locals.”

He shakes his head at himself, smiling at the sound of your laugh. He begins packing the leftover wrappers and bottles away and your heart sinks, thinking it’s all over.

You wrap your arms around your knees when he looks back at you, eyes glinting underneath the newly risen moon.

“You wanna see my place?”

***

The carnival was closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Walking through the dark rides had you sticking close to Steve’s side, the eeriness of a closed fairground causing goosebumps to rise, though they were quickly smoothed by his warmth when his arm wraps around your back.

It was their second week of four in town. The location good for drawing crowds from neighbouring towns.

You try not to think of how quickly a few weeks would pass you both by, instead focussing on Steve’s trailer as he helps you step in.

It was small but warm. A tiny kitchenette across from the door, an even smaller bathroom up the back and a plaid sofa off to the side. You noticed a few books scattered about, a few comics, but some that looked like Greek mythology and maybe even occult—

Steve’s gentle pull on your body had your attention drawing back to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he walks backward to his bed.

“You with me, honey?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

He turns you both around, helping you lay gently on his bed, picking up where you left off earlier. Only this time he doesn’t just focus on your lips or your neck. This time he moves down your chest, mouthing at the exposed skin as his fingers trace lightly up and down your thigh, drawing circles higher and higher up until he finally gets to where you’ve been waiting for him. Drawing a gasp as he wastes no time, finding you completely ready for him, pulling down your underwear and bunching your dress around your stomach. He kisses you there, once, twice, three times before he moves further down and shows you just how much he’s been thinking of this too.

It doesn’t take long for your peak to hit and you're dazed as Steve laps it all up like you’re better than any cake he’s ever tasted, prolonging this feeling of ecstasy until another wave creeps up on you, taking you by surprise.

Steve doesn’t look surprised, just hungry for more when he finds his way back up to you. You’re feverish, scrambling to rid him of his top and working on his belt in quick succession. When his hand engulfs your thigh, you jump at the contact.

“God, you’re hot.” You whisper into his mouth as you share quick kisses.

“Thanks baby, but you should see yourself.”

You giggle, then frown when your hands come into contact with his torso, “No, I mean you’re physically hot. Like really warm. Should we open a window and take a second?”

Steve stills on top of you, you can feel the muscles in his stomach tense, his skin now burning under your hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck.” He hisses and scrambles off you, grabbing his t-shirt from the floor and putting it back on. You sit up as he buckles his belt. “I uh, I just remembered that I have to take care of something.” He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, running his hand through his hair and picking a spot on the floor. You shift your dress down to cover yourself, feeling the cool splash of a moment lost.

“You can stay here if you want. I’ll probably be back by the morning. I can take you home then.”

You’re suddenly aware of your unfamiliar surroundings. A lockless door on a trailer housed in a group of unknown residents and the boy you don’t actually know very well at all leaving.

“I’d rather go home now.” Your voice is small, lost of the breathiness of a few moments ago and Steve still isn’t looking at you. Instead, he looks around for your shoes that came off somewhere in between the door and his bed and hands them to you.

“We need to go like right now though.”

He turns around, barely waiting for you and you feel a stinging in your eyes. “Do you know where my underwear went?”

Steve stops just before he reaches the door, eyes locking with yours as he looks back, his face falling when he sees the watery shine to them.

“Fuck, sorry.” He rushes back over to you, scrambling around in his crumpled bedsheets, “I’m sorry–I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, locating your underwear which you snap off him when he doesn’t move to hand them to you. You finish dressing quickly, ready to be anywhere but here. Storming out of the trailer with Steve close behind you.

You can feel the ghost of his hand on the small of your back, the heat still radiating off him, before he thinks better of it and lets you walk slightly ahead.

You feel sticky as you reluctantly cling to him while he zips back through town, still taking the corners slowly with you on the back. You’d be concerned he was coming down with a fever if you weren’t so crushed by how the night was ending.

His eyes are trained on the road when you get off the bike. This time he doesn’t wait until you’re inside safely, his lame I’ll see you later muffled while you’re taking his helmet off and he shoots off before you even have the chance to return it to him.

He’s out of sight quickly, turning at the end of the road, but the buzz of his engine is still audible from a couple of streets away.

You stand there until it’s just the crickets left chirping.

When you’re inside, you throw his helmet down the hall, collapsing in a crying heap on the bottom stairs.

Never again will you take a chance on a stranger straight from your fantasies.

Tagging @bettyfrommars ‘cause he’s all yours

[xxtc-96xx]

Your comic is amazing, but I did have a question. Was Pigs surprise and just in general shock/outrage at being attacked, or was her guard down cuz even if her dad is a puppet to an evil shadow monster, it's still her dad? And it's near impossible to connect the idea of him and the idea of getting punched in the face?

And that after he tried to punch her in the face, her eyes go angry anime protagonist red, cuz it finally fully clicks that's not her dad and he needs am ass kicking?

I mean sure he already recked, aunties, grandmews, and cousins shit but damn. Punching your own kid in the face is kinda super personal

it was more or less because he immediately went for her head with no hesitation, perhaps she was hoping part of Da was still in there

[bellaramseysgf]

Home Late (E.M)

Warning(s); Smut 18+ only!, slight dub/noncon,controlling!eddie,spanking,mentions of his rings,praise kink,Eddie covers readers mouth with his hand,brief mention of drugging,insinuated to readers mom being a cougar,one threat of using a paddle.

Pairing(s); Stepdad!Eddie Munson x Afab!Stepdaughter!Reader.

Summary; You come home late and your stepdad take it upon himself to punish you.

A/n; this is the longest Fic I’ve wrote in awhile. It’s also very dear to my heart bc of how much effort I put into it. Please enjoy!!💕

You weren’t one to not follow rules. Whatever your mom said you did. Don’t talk to strangers, don’t eat ice cream for breakfast, make sure you do your chores. It was easy stuff to follow,really that was until he came along.

It was definitely weird seeing your mom date someone less then 5 years older then you. However,she was happy and that was the end of it you assumed. Until this dumbass asked her to marry him and decided to come in and reck your whole life.

He set new rules,changed your garage into some dnd meeting place,wouldn’t let your younger siblings watch tv past 7 and now you had a curfew of 11pm.

It pissed you off how your mom was just okay with it,she just let him come in a rule your world. Now,you were 21 and still living at home.

You still saw yourself as an adult, you work, you help pay for groceries or bills if need be,you were apart of this household. Yet he makes all the rules end of discussion.

You were doing this just to spite him really, just to see that stupid look on his face when he realizes you came home late.

Both Eddie and your mom always went to bed around 11:30, so you coming back at 1am should be just enough time that they’re both sound asleep.

You pushed your key in the lock and turned it as quietly as you could. You stopped to pull your heels off as well so that they wouldn’t clack on the floor.

The house was quiet,no lights on. You made your way to the stairs before a light flicked on and you jumped.

“Just where the hell were you?” You knew before you even turned around it wasn’t your mom who was waiting on you. “None ya.” You stated plainly turning to look at him. “2 hours past curfew, just what were you thinking?” You shrugged “I just lost track of time. I’ll clean something tomorrow to apologize.” “No, I think this needs to be handled a different way.” You raised your brow at him.

Eddie knew you were doing it to upset him, just because it took the man 3 years to finish highschool doesn’t make him stupid. You knew exactly what you were doing.

Eddie beckoned you over with his finger “what” you said annoyed and you walked to meet him in the living room.

You let out a gasp when you were thrown over his legs. “Eddie what the fuck” you were met with his hand pressing over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up. For once.” His open hand bunched your dress up until he saw your cute little cherry printed panties. “You’re so damn annoying.” He said and you gasped when a smack landed on your ass.

You mumbled curses into his hand and started to squirm. “Stay still before I get my paddle” his tone sent delicate shivers through your body. You stopped your squirming and were met with a “good girl” you choked back the whine that wanted to come out at his praise.

“You never want listen.” Smack. “Just so bitchy” smack. “You’re so disrespectful” smack. “You never listen to any rules” smack. “You think you can get away with it?” Smack. “No, you can’t.” Smack. “I’m so tired of your attitude” smack. “Someone needed to remind you of your place.” Smack.

You were in tears. The rings in his fingers leaving defined outlines more then likely. Your ass stung and you wanted to get up and run away before he could realize how wet you’d gotten.

“I bet I know something that’ll help with that attitude.” He said and used his open hand to undo his belt. “If I move my hand you be Fucking quiet.” He demanded and you nodded. He let you up as he worked his pants and boxers off. He wasn’t fully hard but he was almost there, the size of him made your pussy clinch around nothing.

“Panties, give them.” He held out his hand and waited patiently until you handed him the fabric. “You’re gonna sit still until I decide” he informed as he tugged you into his lap. “What..what about my mom?” Youvasked and he chuckled “don’t worry, I made sure she’d stay asleep.” You shivered.

Was he insane? Did he actually drug your mom? Why did that turn you on even more.

Eddie lifted your hips and lined himself up before bottoming out inside you. “Stay still and be a good girl.” He said and you nodded.

After long your eyes got heavy from the nights events. All the dancing you’d done catching up on you’re body,the aches sat in and your eyes became heavy. You let your body slump down into Eddie’s chest.”

“Sleepy?” He asked and you nodded “now you know why I’ve you come home.” He smarted off and you just nodded not having the brain capacity to snap back. “Wanna go to bed?” He asked and you shook your head. “No? Why not?” He asked and you answered with a roll of your hips which wasn’t a good idea, you were met with a slap on your ass afterwords.

“Use your words.” His tone was scolding and you let out a shaky breath “what about this?” You whispered and Eddie chuckled.

“Darling,when did I say I was gonna fuck you?”

[punks-never-die205]

Been thinking about this lately but, which of the Kid pirates do you think has the highest alcohol tolerance? How many shots of whiskey can they do?

I feel like Wire would only get 3-4 shots in before he falls over and starts french kissing the floor.

XD

I think their tolerances are higher than we'd expect. Pirating life does that to you, especially since low-level grog/ale would have less sanitary worries over the long haul than water.

But that's maybe a bit too much logistical realism in our funny pirate anime.

I think 3-4 shots is enough to get everyone chill. A couple people tipsy. 5-6 shots and there's drunk laughter scattering about even though nothing really funny was actually said.

7 shots and maybe Bubblegum is wearing a pretty pink bonnet and getting the other crew members to call him pretty. Because of his bonnet.

8 shots and a good bit of the crew (Mosh, Pomp, UK, Gig, REck, Papas and Compo) are starting a mosh pit, except there's no music and it turns into a game of duck, duck, goose.

9 shots and Heat's drawing his tattoo design on Wire with grease crayons, and Wire's letting him. Quincy is pulling small arms out of her hat and Hip and Hop are just clear headed enough to confirm that all the bullets were removed earlier.

10 shots in and Kid is looking a little regretful, but he's not going to admit it yet, and Moai and Jaguar are out - they keep stopping and starting Row, Row, Row Your Boat and mixing it up with In The Hall of the Mountain King.

11 shots and nothing changes, but a few duck, duck, goose players are asleep.

12 shots in and Kid is telling Killer how pretty his eyes are, but Killer's still wearing his mask. He's respond, but he actually fell asleep just after the 10th shot and no one noticed.

13 shots in, it's just House and Emma, but House concedes, because in all their years as a crew, no one has out drank Emma, and hardly showing signs of being tipsy as it is.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 14

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: binge drinking

Party time. Excellent!

The deck was full of Kid Pirates well on their way to getting drunk. You waited until you could hear laughing and bickering and shouting before making your appearance. One, because you didn't want to be the first one there, waiting awkwardly, and two, because this type of thing was out of your wheelhouse. Parties, sure, you've enjoyed plenty of parties, but being celebrated and being the center of attention in a dress, no less, was something entirely different. If it was in a different setting, like a crew that was your own, conceivably you wouldn't feel so uncomfortable. You were grateful that the purpose of this was to also celebrate Killer's recovery. Maybe he would overshadow you, he certainly did in stature anyway. 

I swear the first thing I'm gonna do when I get off this ship is buy pants. Sort of a tomboy growing up, you weren't drawn to wearing more feminine things and it felt foreign wearing a dress. You didn't have anything against it, in fact, you felt gorgeous, like a princess even, but pants were way more practical than dresses, especially in this line of work. You couldn't really complain though. You literally asked for this. Maybe I shouldn't have.

"C'mon, Mini." The boar happily trotted out behind you, ready to receive table scraps. You took in the sight on deck: barrels and crates turned into chairs and makeshift tables, along with some real tables and chairs, seemingly reserved for the higher ranked pirates, banners with their Jolly Roger strung up, extra torches, overflowing kegs, and happy, tipsy pirates: some were arm wrestling, some were playing cards, others were telling stories of battles past, a few were somehow already passed out. The men arm wrestling intrigued your competitive side, but you thought better of showing off your strength, if you still had it. Your eyes scanned through the crew until they saw Quincy's unruly, orange mane. Your heeled boot took one step in their direction before your ears perked up, hearing one of the men arm wrestling jab another by saying he couldn't even beat 'that woman'. All the sudden, your foot pivoted on its own.

The heels thunked against the wood of the deck as you walked with purpose towards the group and sat in front of the man who made the jab, throwing your elbow on the barrel-made-table. "Let's see you beat me then." You wiggled your fingers. 

The man scoffed, then grinned and licked his lips. "Fine. If I win then you have to untie the top of your dress." 

You rolled your eyes. "Wow, as if I couldn't guess." There was a pause as you thought. "If I win he gets to walk you around the deck like a dog," you said pointing to the guy who was previously insulted. They stared at you before bursting into fits of howling laughter, barking and making jokes at your challenger's expense. "See you have to be creative or it's not fun." 

The blond man across from you, who you learned, from the jeers of his crewmates, was called Pomp. He put his hand in yours and rested his elbow on the table. His hand eclipsed yours, though not nearly as much as Kid's would. Not that you wanted your hand entwined with Kid's, definitely not. At the signal, your hands pushed against each other, fighting for a dominant hold. Your Y/E/C eyes bored into his. Part of you wished Quincy hadn't covered your scars so much, you weren't intimidating like this. What you didn't know was that you were intimidating like this, in a different way. Pomp's face was bright red with exertion, beads of sweat stated to break out on his brow, the back of his hand reaching ever closer to the table. You could see his mind struggling to understand how you were stronger than he was. "Start barking, bitch." His hand thunked against the table. 

"No way." Pomp was more shocked than mad.

A blue haired man slapped him on the back, "Get on all fours, my friend."

"Fuck you, Reck." 

You started to get up, intending to go sit with the girls, like you originally planned. However, your mind was changed when several of the men scrambled to get in the seat across from you, arguing over who got to try next. And that's how you ended up with: a human footstool, someone's gold tooth, a never-empty beer mug, a knife, a shoulder massage, some fucking pants, and Dive running some kind of betting ring. You were actually having fun. Quincy, Emma, and Dive had come over to see what was going on. At first, you bantered amongst yourselves, then some of the men joined in, and pretty soon you were all laughing together, except Pomp, who was barking, much to everyone's delight. You took a long drink of your beer, about to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, but stopping when you remembered you had lipstick on. It would be quite a sight to have dark lipstick smeared across your face. 

"Where's my beer boy?" You tapped the butt of the mug on the wood. "I'm half-empty," you tsked.

One of the rookies scuttled over to grab it for a refill. "S-sorry, Ma'am." 

Before he could turn, you grabbed his cheek in a pinch, "That's Ca-," you coughed. "That's Doc to you." Maybe I should cool I on the booze. It was easy to fall into your old ways, even easier now that you felt like yourself in this painted-on skin Quincy gave you. You almost slipped up. A heavy hand clapping you on the shoulder made you jump, releasing the boy. You looked up from your seat, expecting to see the Red Menace, instead looking into a blue and white helmet. "Did you want a try? Step right up. Test your strength." You grinned up at him cheekily.

He ignored that. "Captain wants you."

You leaned around him to see Kid's amber eyes staring at you. "When does he not?" You swore you heard Emma cough-whisper "captain-fucker" under her breath, the other girls snickering.

His hand moved down to grip your arm, firmly but gentle, and pulled you up from your seat.

"Fine. Fine. I'm coming." You snatched up your winnings, tucking the knife behind you under your belt and the tooth in the front. And, of course, grabbing your stein. You followed Killer to their table, where Kid, Heat, Wire, and a few others sat. Mini was too busy to follow, her in the background letting pirates see if they could throw apples directly into her mouth from across the ship. Killer went back to where he was sitting, leaving no more remaining seats. You already knew where this was going. Kid smirked and patted his lap. "I'll stand." You moved to stand behind Heat, who you felt the most comfortable with.

The captain scowled at you. "I'm not askin." When you still didn't move, he bribed, "Do ya want yer shit back?"

You begrudgingly moved toward him. "Gun, too." 

"Whatever, doll."

He grabbed your waist and roughly pulled you down to his lap, a huff leaving you as you were brought back had against his firm chest. Your beer spilled over the edge of the mug and over your hand in the jostling movement. You set it down, and much to the chagrin of everyone, flung the dripping excess off your hand in their direction prior to wiping your hand on Kid's pant leg. He made a noise of displeasure. "What? I'm borrowing this," you plucked at the red fabric clinging to your body. "I don't want to spill beer on it."

"You look very nice in that color, Doc." Heat complimented. 

"Thank you, Heat. At least someone on this ship knows how to treat a lady." You smiled in his direction before taking a drink.

The chest under you shook and your eardrums rattled as Kid's booming laugh rang out, "Oh ya put on a dress and a wee bit of makeup and all tha sudden yer a lay-dee," he drew out the last word in a mocking way. 

That...kinda stung. A bubble of anger rose to the surface of your mind. Without fail, Kid had to ruin your good mood. Biting your tongue, you resisted the urge to lay into him. If you went too far in front of his top officers, you would be on his bad side. "What am I then?" You raised your eyebrow and glared at him, fully expecting him to say something crude. 

He slapped a hand down on your leg and squeezed. "A pirate, ya dumbass." 

Killer seemed almost as surprised as you that Kid said something not-mean, though hard to tell through the mask. You scooted his hand towards your knee, though he kept putting it back further up your thigh, so you gave up. They started talking about their plans for when they reached the next island and other things you hardly cared about. Taking the knife out of your belt, you spun it around idly on the table. It had been digging into your back. You kept drinking and chose to use this time to observe the crew. Killer looked like he had the same idea. You couldn't see where exactly his eyes were looking, however his mask was facing you. Your suspicion was all but confirmed when you turned to look directly at him and he looked away. You were about to ask him if he needed something when several plates were set down on the table, each with a different entree. All looked equally heavenly. 

After several rounds of plates, including dessert, and drinks, everyone was full to the point of being uncomfortable. Except Mini, who was lapping up all the spilled beer, and you, who was staring down the last bite of chocolate cake on Killer's plate. Kid had shifted you from one leg to the other when his leg fell asleep, and you were now closer to Killer. He cleared his throat, "Do you... want the rest?" It took you a second to stumble through your inebriated fog before you realized he was talking to you. You nodded. He looked for a utensil to pick it up with, and when he failed he shrugged and picked it up with his hand. He held it out to put into your hand. Without a second thought, you leaned over, holding onto Kid's neck, and ate it straight from his fingers, licking them off and leaving a ring of lipstick around them as you came back up with a popping sound, giggling. The accidental innuendo was not lost on him, as red spread down his neck from underneath his helmet. 

Kid tucked his head next to you on the side opposite Killer and spoke lowly into your ear, "Careful, Rotten. I'm not ready ta share ya yet." 

"Fuck off. I just wanted cake." You chugged the rest of the beer in your mug, not caring that some dripped down the corner of your mouth, and turned around on his lap to face him. "And I'll fuck whoever I want." You grabbed either side of his vest and pulled him towards you, sloppily making out with him, tongues twisting, both tasting like beer, lipstick colors slowly blending together, unconsciously grinding against his thigh.

Kid pulled away. "Yer even more fun drunk." He took in your lust-filled eyes, now noticing that you replaced the log-pose he had taken. Some memory fluttered in the back of his mind when he took in your face like this. It was smothered by the filthy thoughts racing in his mind. It wouldn't be the first time he fucked someone in plain view.

Something you hadn't taken into consideration was that you hadn't had a drink in years. Your tolerance was that of a teenager sneaking booze from their parent's liquor cabinet. You would pass out soon, you could feel it, but first you felt your stomach flop. Oh no. You pushed Kid away as he went to kiss you again and covered your mouth, fighting wobbly legs to get off Kid and get to the banister.

Kid was about to protest you pushing him. Then he saw how green you looked. He pushed you off him and turned you in the right direction. 

You made it to the railing in time to hurl over the side of the ship, having the wherewithal to move your hair out of the way. Your full body weight leaned on the railing as you puked up everything you ate in the reverse order. You cursed yourself for being this stupid. You don't know how many times you threw up before a warm hand rested on your back, patting it gently, while another one gathered your hair away from your face.

"Let it all out, darlin." It reminded Killer of his younger days with Kid. "It's okay." He was very familiar with the drunk-friend-babysitter role. He felt guilty for his part in helping get you wasted, constantly getting someone to fill your glass. He and Kid thought if you were drunk, maybe you would let some identifying information slip. 

You grabbed around for his shirt so he couldn't leave you. "Killer, don't let me fall in." You hiccuped. "I can't swim."

Maybe it paid off after all,  he thought.

Next

[hoppingonjim]

heyyy saw your requests are open and i loooove love love the way you write March!! maybe perhaps wanted to request smthn involving thigh riding (you mentioned smthn about it in the thing you wrote about what kinks he would have and it has been on the brain since i read it) perhaps with some brat taming vibes 😳😳

i need him in ways that are deeply concerning

note: i'm so sorry for the delay with this! i really didn't know how to focus on the thigh riding and brat taming but i hope you enjoy! thank you so much &lt;3 cw: thigh riding. dom!holland. brat taming hints. holland shuts the reader up. sub!reader. afab!reader. degrading/mocking.

"no, no don't whine like a fucking baby, you did this to yourself."

brown and orange fill the background screen while he makes you rut against his slightly muscular thigh. the detective tenses himself, to only add to your pleasure. the muscles straining against your sopping folds.

he's got his finger nails digging into your shoulders as if to hold you down. discipline through half moons.

the man can’t help but smirk at you, “fucking pathetic, you humping my fucking leg. fuck.” and even if he indulges in mockery he can’t help but ghost his fingers up the supple flesh.

red lace dangles around your ankle as you quicken your own process. desperation coursing through you and forcing your movements to dig deeper. the coarseness of his leg is brazed against your slickness, small uh’s flee from your lips in unkempt strings.

one of his hands roames to your thigh, collecting back before landing a gentle blow. delighting in the way your skin reacts, bubbling almost. but nothing comes close to the way he just smirks at the sound of your whines. unable to sew words together.

it’s a predatorial gaze that sets itself on you. through heavy lidded irises you can tell. teeth sink into his bottom lip, heavy concentration on how he can reck you further.

both hands desert your hips, one grasping your thigh and the other combing through your messy tresses of hair. embracing disheveledness. if you aren’t a wreck by the end of this then he feels he didn’t try hard enough. in desperation to feel any sort of release you pick up the pace, growing chaotic with very rock against his meaty thigh, "holland- oh gosh.. i'm sorry sir, sorry for what i said earlier-"

two fingers move down onto your lips, thumb and pointer, trapping your words mid sentence back into the corridors of your mouth, "cum on my fucking leg you damn brat, show me how desperate you are." a pause follows his words to accentuate the way he snakes a hand around your messy moving body to land another blow- this time on your ass. the mustache man delights in the way you perk up at the slap, a yelp flying off your tongue with briefly bulged eyes.

it only propels you to move harder against him. though the man is lazy while you ride his thigh, his hands grow bored and find the back of his neck to be less laborious to touch. leaning back, he smirked, eyeing you intently. suddenly he decides bobbing his leg up and down will get you going faster. it's hard for him to resist you and not touch you, especially when you look so perfect on his thigh. begging your body for a release. he's got his leg bouncing at a rate that rattles your body.

your own hands dig into his upper thigh as you ride out the coaster he presents to you. the one that abuses your clit once you tilt yourself a little more forward, dig yourself a little more into his skin to have him feel all of you. mewls fill the room as the hand behind his neck needs to tug on your hair in one long tail. a harsh tug.

"fucking cum you whore, cum for me baby. mr march can't give you his cock till you show him how sorry and needy you are. c'mon, i know you're desperate enough. just cum."

and with every sentence there's a degrading chuckle to match his desired tone. he smears his laughter on your body while his eyes soak up the way you moan. and just to accelerate your need a little further he brings a hand down to mildly slap your clit. anticipating the way you'd momentarily shriek and adoring every minute of it.

a sea of moans drowns the room, a panacea crashing down on you. you ride the high through and out, enjoying every moment of it as you coat the surface of holland's thigh. and he thinks it's beautiful. his eyes feast - embodying a state of poverty with the way they intensified on the miraculous sight.

the hand he used to tug harshly on your locks moves to your cheek where he cradles the steaming skin, "princess needs my cock now, huh? are you a good girl? think you proved yourself?"

and all you can do is nod. quivering legs the only evidence you need.

[analogwriting]

The Other Side of Paradise

Chapter 12: Show Pony

Killer x gn!reader word count: 1.3k a/n: SURPRISE THERE'S TWO! since the holidays are coming up, i'm going to be out of town so idk when the next chapter will be up, so i gave y'all a twofer tags: @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth, @h0n3y-l3m0n05 first

After vacation and without school, you were able to actually focus on forming your band. You had all just been practicing on your own for the most part while you finished up school, so that once you practiced together, it would be just chaos.

You had been working on songwriting too. You had a lot to say and a lot to get out, so it came pretty easy. Hop actually helped you compose a lot of it, surprisingly Dive was good at it too.

The four of you worked fantastically together and it wasn’t long before you had a solid set and a few songs perfected. It took all summer, which in the grand scheme of things, isn’t a long time. Hop found a work-from-home job as did Bubblegum, Dive kept her job, just moved to full time, and you started to work on the band full time. 

After perfecting your sound and abilities, you really began to lock in.

Bubblegum, Papas, and Reck actually came over to help convert part of the garage into a recording booth so that you could record the songs and start posting them.

Emma helped out with flyers and a website. She had a graphic design degree, which helped a lot in creating eye-catching logos and such. She created the band logo, some basic merch for whenever you guys would get to that point. 

You even recruited your friend Quincey. She was a couple years older than you and had graduated a while ago, now a successful fashion designer. When you finally revealed your grand plan to the friend group at the graduation party, she was more than willing and ready to help design costumes and such for your sets. 

She had taken your concepts and initial ideas for costumes and made them even more beautiful and wonderful than you could’ve ever imagined. She created several, too. She had grown bored and dull at her job, at a creative art block, but this seemed to help her get through that. She was designing things left and right and now you guys were set for a good long while.

UK and Gig, both being film majors, helped you guys create a couple of music videos as well. You shot everything around the town and at the house, so there wasn’t too much production cost.

You tried to pay your friends for the efforts, but they wouldn’t take your money. They were more than happy to help. After all, this affected all of them and they said it was payback for taking care of them all those years that you let them crash and whatnot at the house. Lots of ‘this is what friends are for’ and such.

It became everyone’s passion project, so you made sure to work as hard as you could to make sure everyone’s work paid off.

You talked to venues, setting up small gigs here and there in surrounding towns. Once you had a website, some social media profiles, and all that for the band, you began to pick up traction.

--

Another year passed and you took off. You went viral on the internet for a couple of your songs and agencies began to reach out to sign you. News stations and podcasts began to interview you to learn more about your little group. You didn’t do too many interviews, wanting to keep that mysterious side of you. You didn’t want too much out there on that aspect, you just wanted your music and vibes out there.

You turned down countless agencies. You were waiting for one in particular. You were waiting on DQE. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to hold out, though you were doing just fine on your own. Your degree came in handy, you were able to manage your own band pretty well, but having an agency to help with production costs and just everything overall would definitely help.

It would be less on everyone’s shoulders. And your friends that helped out in the beginning weren’t able to help out as much, which was fine. They had lives, after all. 

They were all extremely supportive, coming to shows when they could, hyping you up on their socials. Some of them were still in and out of the house. Though, since the four of you were always travelling, you started locking the house up when you left - so all of your friends now had keys to the house.

All of your efforts would pay off. After a show in a sold out venue, someone approached you after the show. “Hey, is there a manager that I can speak to?” You looked up from behind your mask - you didn’t go anywhere without it. Plenty of people tried to take it off of you, interviewers tried to heckle you, but nothing worked. You refused to let people see you - all of you did this. Not a single one of you were seen without your masks, which also helped in general. You could just continue your other aspects of your life without trouble.

Bubblegum had even adjusted the masks and fitted them just right so that they were almost impossible for people to rip off as well. He was dedicated to the cause.

You straightened up from putting your guitar into your case. “That would be me.”

The man looked at you, confused. He was a very tall man. Blond and had a surprisingly kind aura to him despite the intimidating look he was trying to put on. “You also manage the band?” he said.

You nodded, putting a hand on your hip. “Yep. Gotta put that degree to use somehow.” You shrugged.

His eyebrows raised and he nodded, clearly impressed that you were able to juggle that. “Impressive.”

You nodded, looking at him for a moment. “So…is there something I can help you with?”

“Oh, yes.” He shuffled in his jacket for a moment, looking for something. “My agency has taken notice of you and have been watching you for a while…now where is that darned thing,” he mumbled, sliding off his jacket.

You watched him with an amused expression, not that he could see it. He shook his jacket, only to drop it and somehow simultaneously trip over it, immediately tumbling to the ground. Luckily, you had cleared off most of the stuff on stage, so nothing went down with him.

You raced over to him, helping him up. He accepted it, letting you help him stand. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit on the clumsy side.” 

“Clearly.”

He noticed something on the ground. “Ah, there it is.” He bent over to pick it up, smacking his head on the only mic stand that was still on stage. “Ah, fuck.” He was lucky it was off. 

He rubbed his head as he held out his card. “Sorry about that. Anyway, we’ve taken a notice to you and would like to sign you guys. Though, why haven’t you been signed yet? I would imagine people have been scrambling to get you guys under their label.”

You shrugged. “Waiting for the right label. No one had enticing enough perks, so we’ve just been staying independent,” you said, taking his card from him.

“Though,” you said, a grin spreading across your face under your mask. “I’m sure you guys might have what I’m looking for.”

The man blinked in confusion. “Hm?” 

You didn’t pay him any mind as you stared at his card. Finally, after a year and a half of hard work, it was finally paying off.

DONQUIXOTE ENTERTAINMENT.

DONQUIXOTE CORAZON. SENIOR MANAGER. 

(555)761-0715

[revenant-coining]

Reckmistakelinaic

[pt: Reckmistakelinaic /end pt]

[ids: 2 rectangular flags with 6 equally-sized horizontal lines with a thick line in the middle. colors in this order from top to bottom: blue, purple, light purple, white, light purple, purple, blue. in the center of the first flag is blue text that reads: “I'm a reckless mistake”. /end ids]

Reckmistakelinaic; a gender connected to the lyrics: “I'm a reckless mistake” from the song “Polaroid” by Imagine Dragons.

etymology; reck(less), mistake, linaic

for cam!

tagging; @radiomogai, @thecoffeecrew404

[id: a rosy-pink line divider. /end id]

[matan4il]

hay just wanted to say I know things are stressful trust me I know ( I have a friend who lives with her family in Ukraine) I know life seams impossibly hard right now but keep going you will survive one day the world will see that Israel was In the right and hamas was in the wrong just keep on going until then

Awwww, Nonnie! Thank you so much for the kind words! They mean a lot!

Amen to this, hopefully one day the world will indeed be able to look back on this with more moral clarity than some are capable of right now. A bit like how I would like to believe there's less Holocaust denial today in Germany, than in 1945, when Germans were required by the allies to go through "de-Nazification" (meaning, register that they came to a cinema theater and watched footage of the horrors from the Nazi concentration camps), but many would register, walk into the cinema theater, and then sit with their backs to the screen the entire time the footage was shown. Today, I believe most Germans would not deny the Holocaust, and I personally know several who take a really strong stance against antisemitism.

That said, I also came across at least one anti-Israel German woman, who kept talking about the "mystification of the Holocaust," and how the Holocaust doesn't deserve the special recognition it has gotten, at the same time as trying to claim that what Israel is doing is a second Holocaust. I got the sense that she has an issue with facing Germany's past, and (to paraphrase the words of Israeli psychiatrist Zvi Recks), she will never forgive the Jews for the Holocaust. So, if she has to vilify the Jewish state to falsely minimize the crime of the Holocaust, and turn the Jews from victims to villains, she'll just have to do that...

I do believe that she's a minority in her country, and that in the same way, eventually people will look back at the most successful normalization of antisemitism since the Holocaust, with the same kind of denouncement, as we today look at the Nazis' antisemitic de-humanization of Jews, which preceded and enabled the Holocaust.

Thank you again for the kindness, and I hope that you, your friend, and her family, are all well, and will continue to be so! Sending much love and support! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[bottle-of-harpoons]

Hey gamers, wanna see some cringe? *starts showing you my Mary Sue self insert*

I made this back when my hair was blue oof.

This is Mono. She's from the burning gates of hell AKA England AKA Galar.

Basic run down of her backstory.

She is from Chirchester. Both her and her childhood friend/rival, Gunner, struggled to get sponsorships to start the League challenge.

After sometime, they were eventually sponsored by Mono's uncle who ran a small business. But to Gunner and Mono, it felt like they were sponsored as a favour rather than because they were recognised as strong trainers.

They were completely overshadowed by the other trainers in the gym challenge. No matter how many gym badges they got or how many battles they won, they weren't seen as 'marketable' by the media.

Gunner believed it was because they saw her as weak and began to train harder. Soon her rivalry with Mono became toxic. They were pushing each other too hard and Gunner started taking her aggression out on Mono.

It got worse when Gunner and Mono were battling and Gunner continued to attack after Mono was defeated. She kept chanting about how Mono needed to get stronger and she was making her look bad as her rival.

Gunner ended up damaging Claus's leg and knocking out Mono in the process. They were saved when Sam (Mono's cinderace) was able to get them to the nearest pokemon center.

Mono was too scared to talk about what happened. She was so used to being ignored by the media, she believed they wouldn't listen.

During her journey, Gunner learns more about the darkest day and how a captured eternatus is kept at Marco Cosmos. She breaks into the facility during Mono's match and summons eternatus.

Mono helps some trainers take down eternatus and stop the darkest day. Gunner is arrested, however she is released as, due to eternatus going on a rampage, there isn't any clear records of how this all happened. Gunner was able to claim they were 'controlled by eternatus' and because there was nothing proving otherwise, she was let off with a lenient punishment.

Mono was too scared to come forward about Gunners pattern of shitty behaviour. She couldn't take the guilt and paranoia and she ended up running away from Galar. She's traveling around different regions but for now, she's staying in Kitikami.

She's slowly working up the courage to go back home but she chickens out every time.

Some fun facts

She's a dark and fire type specialist but also works with ground types.

Her outfit is based on Piers because she's primarily a dark type user.

Because she's a dark type specialist, she's nocturnal.

Theivul and Cinderace are her comfort mons and she takes them with her to every region (even if they aren't aloud)

Zamazenta is also a comfort mon for her (sort of like Kieran and Ogerpon but less obsessive) however, she doesn't believe she's worthy enough to capture zamazenta.

She worked for the subway bosses for a bit, as a night staff announcer.

She was originally an announcer during the day time but she kept swearing into the mic and they moved her to night shift to stop her from scarring the children.

Her pupils glow red from dynamax energy. All galarians can do this.

Her first pokemon was a growlithe names Sam who was the family pet. She wanted him to be her starter on her journey but Sam died of a heart condition before they could go. She instead named her starter (a scorbunny) after him.

Her Galar team consisted of Sam (cinderace), Blue (corviknight), Claus (theivul), Rocky (obstagoon), Harpoon (boltund) and Jake (noivern). She switches them around with other pokemon when traveling different regions.

She's a reck. She's constantly anxious and is quick to run away from her problems.

She needs therapy.

Please ignore any spelling errors. I'm not very smart.

[nuranalknowsall]

Me, a Chinese Canadian ranking the EA members of the losh in no particular order

disclaimer: i like to assess characters based on potential in order to cope with the shit that occurs in canon. This means, this entire thing is mostly how i would write them rather then a critique on how they are written in canon.

1. harmonia li: lol harmonia li seems like those rich, hard core chinese classical members of the benevolent chinese society while also having a love-hate relationship the local diasporic china town for being 'unclean' and unauthentic enough. What i'm trying to say, is harmonia li is a v textbook of what a chinese person is supposed to be, and uhhhh distant in terms of relatability... Paul levitz probs did some shallow research regarding her 'previously studying w/ confucian,' (which I hc she had to cross dress for that shit, knowing that confucian is sexist af). I think she does have potential as an immortal, and as a time traveller, to be a random easter egg. I would also like her to be a potential avenue to explore 31st century china. Like, china is old af. Another millenium to us, is nothing.

2. dragon mage: uhhh he is annoying im sorry... the western perception of chinese dragons , much less designs of chinese dragon themed characters, was/still is so crass and ugly. That being said, I do want more magical systems based upon traditional chinese knowledge, and I think harmonia li and dragon mage would be great for that. do we get that tho? no. Are we going to get that any time soon? probably not.

3. threeboot shrinking violet: i have such mixed feelings about shrinking violet? like fuck yea her opening scene is so fucking funny and badass, and the concept of her being a team meme and her own teammates not really knowing if she's even real, is hilarious, but like... the concept of an asian girl who can shrink is not very ground breaking and by not v groundbreaking i mean... what is up with white ppl's fetish of asian girls having shrinking powers and being small? like do yall not like us taking up space? does it make you uncomfortable? Also, the whole worldbuilding aspect, of her (asian-coded) people worshipping brainiac 5, a white coded character, because he introduced them to uhhhhh taking up less space... how do i say this? racially charged? is it racially charged? am i overanalyzing this? probably. do i care that im overanalyzing this? no. that being said, on the 0.000000000000000001% chance threeboot!shrinking violet makes a comeback, i would totally want an pulpy action stand alone issue ft her exploring the microscopic world all by herself.

4. bendis boot cosmic boy: finally some fucking food... oh wait did the monkey paw just move? damnit. look, i get that it's a new reboot, hence new stuff, but i think we can all agree that bendis did not do much research, much less, put in much thought, about what makes cosmic boy cosmic boy. the fact that he's a wrestler of metal animals instead of a prodigy at magnoball kinda says a lot about how bendis's understanding of the entire losh was super shallow. ie) bendisboot cosmic boy being a stand-alone wrestler and being used to the spotlight instead of a prodigy team player and how that affects his leadership skills, and potential to recognize his teammates skills and delegate their weaknesses while excelling individually... im screaming... i'm mourning. Where are my representation for asian team athletes? we exist you know?

5. karate kid: Ok. I read karate kid's first appearence by jim shooter, and the fact that the entire legion suspected him of being the spy/traitor despite the fact that he is just a prodigy at martial arts, and thus will have some physical limitations in committing the crimes that occurred making him highly unlikely to be the spy, just recks of microagression to me. i'm sorry i had to get that off my chest. I do think it's v important for karate kid to be an interracial child, bc i do think we need more mixed race characters esp for stories set in the 31st century... there does have the potential for karate kid to have nuance, like for example, there could be an arc where he was raised by his white mother, while estranged from his asian father, and his only connection to his culture was through martial arts. IDK i just feel like karate kid's heritage has gone unaddressed despite having a lot of potential. Hell, fricking chameleon boy has more arcs addressing his durla side, then karate kid's mix heritage. (if you're mixed asian btw, feel free to chime in, and talk about anything missed regarding karate kid, bc i feel like mixed asian ppl's voices are often lost and go unspoken).

6. golden lantern: I was told he was supposed to be filipino-coded or something? idk i'm still a little confused about his powers tbh, but i am all for a asian character who's power is being happy while not being treated like luk duk dong aka a racist joke. The fact that he's blind makes him more interesting to me, because afaik, being a lantern character is v visual based, and i would like some rep in the future about how the 31st treats ppl who possess different senses.

7. reboot!nightwind: you should have been a hijabi girlie... like i do like how you looked like a EA girl, but you should have kept your hijab /hj (she doesn't actually don a hijab in canon, but she may as well i mean have you seen her previous designs?)

8. dragonwing: aside from the whole, wow western designs of chinese dragon themed characters suck, why is she so pale? she looks like 31st century ronald McDonald the clown cause she's so pale w/her red hair.. i will not lie tho, her clothes are p cool. I'm just a little confused about her powers tho? she's got like??? super spit??? what? good for her ig? idk man... why not just call her spitfire at this point?

9. chemical kid: i could not care less about this character. you cannot make me care about him.

conclusion: if you're a quantity vs quality person, you could probs call me spoiled bc of the number of chinese members of the losh, compared to every other EA nation. But quality of the chinese characters is... not good. anyways, if you're non-asian and you have questions about whatever, feel free to ask. if you are asian, and you have different opinions then me, that's expected, we aren't a monolith contrary to what the west believes; feel free to vocalize your opinions here too.

[doodle17]

So, that post about Lobotomy Family!Cal being terrified of his son being taken away from him and going through what he did as a kid gave me an idea.

Cal having a two mental versions of Raz - One is Raz-as-he-is, Raz his sweet and playful kid that he loves dearly.

The other is a representation of what Cal fears would happen to Raz - alone, scared, confused, clearly went through the same thing as his adoptive dad. This version might also double as a Nightmare, both in the Pn1 enemy version(though I don't think he would attack), and appearing in Cal's nightmares (often the ending for dreams involving his excuses for parents meeting their technical grandchild)

Cal obviously would love Raz no matter what, but it's clear that Cal is scared of the possibility that his boy could have his life recked because other people are afraid of psychics.

Also, as Raz gets older, and Cal gets more information that tells him that the world has moved on from lobotomies and suppressing psychic powers, Worst-Case Raz gets less and less presence in his mind (Worst-Case Raz never goes away completely, Cal worries about his kid just like any other parent, and he *is* extremely traumatized by his childhood) and Cal makes sure to give Raz both the support and space to grow.

... and also various doohickeys for Raz to use against psiphobes just in case.

Hnnnghhh I had to make myself sad

Anyways, omg just imagining Cal cradling his kid in his arms being so terrified just thinking about THAT happening to him makes my heart hurt (and I love it)

GRAAAAH it's SO GOOD

But to lighten the mood here's Raz with a gift from Cal to protect himself from psiphobes