#so i was like god when will i see him again boohoo

[cynicallyneutral]

demon children

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 29

part 1 | part 28 | ao3

“Hey,” Steve sniffles when Eddie gets home.

He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’s been crying since Wayne left for work — the exhausted, intermittent kind that leaves him boneless and craving a nap. From the foyer Eddie’s expression pinches with concern, and Steve can’t help the little bubble of wet laughter he lets out over the sight he must make: swaddled in a blanket, tear streaks down his face, neck flopped over the back of the couch to look toward the door. And he’s surrounded by towels.

The few that Wayne managed to salvage after his temper tantrum are all hung up near the radiator, draped over shelves and the backs of chairs, and the rest are sloshing away in the washing machine. (Wayne started a fresh cycle for him before he left for work; didn’t say a word about Steve boohoo-ing like an injured toddler on the other side of the room, which kind of makes him want to cry again.)

“Welcome to your house,” Steve tries to joke, but his voice cracks, so it comes out sounding more pathetic than funny.

“Uh… hi?” Eddie speaks slowly, moves slowly, cautious as he drops his bag and toes off his sneakers. He comes to stand behind the couch.

Steve blinks up at him with another weak, watery laugh.

“You okay?” Eddie asks. He bows his head to meet Steve’s gaze, eyes sharp with worry, brows drawn down, and Steve smiles just a little when Eddie’s hands reach up to touch him: sweep his hair off his forehead, cradle his face, cup his jaw. He runs his thumbs over Steve’s cheekbones, wiping at the salt tracks, and his rings rest in the hollows, his fingers drumming soothing rhythms as he chews on his next words.

Steve thinks he’s never seen something so lovely. Full lips twisted up in sympathy; secondhand heartbreak in his eyes. His hair falls around them like a curtain, like a cocoon.

He looks beautiful.

Warm.

Safe.

“...Do you wanna fuck around?”

Eddie’s hands flex against his jaw and then go still. So perfectly still, every muscle tensed, face gone horribly, carefully blank.

“Jesus,” Steve cringes at himself. He screws his eyes shut with a groan; lifts a hand to hide his face. “Oh, my god. Dude, I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

Eddie plucks Steve’s hand away. Goes back to holding his face, fingers kneading the tense muscles in Steve’s neck. Steve’s thinking that if he could just go blind right now so he never has to look up and see Eddie’s reaction, that would be so cool.

“Hey,” Eddie coaxes. “Look at me?”

Steve cracks one eye open. “Sorry,” he winces.

“S’okay,” Eddie says. Soft and simple, like it's easy, like he means it. There's a smile in his eyes, a playful quirk to his lips. “More than okay, actually; shit, that’s like, supremely fucking flattering, just, uh…"

Oh, god. Is this the part where he lets Steve down? Tells him he read this all wrong; that he let Robin witness his whole sad wet sexuality crisis for nothing?

"Feel like I missed a couple chapters on the reading assignment here, Steve,” Eddie laughs; a disbelieving little thing, his blunt nails catching on Steve's stubble. “You wanna tell me where that came from?”

“Just…”

Steve lets out a breath. Desperately wants to look away, because it’s embarrassing. What he wants.

Why he wants it.

“Last night, when you…”

"Mm. Surprised you remembered that.” His thumb drifts to the corner of Steve’s lips, traces the dip between his bottom lip and chin like he's remembering it now, too. "You were pretty fucked up."

Steve whimpers under the touch. He wants to part his lips, drop his jaw; invite Eddie to feel, to pet his thumb over his tongue and press down with two thick fingers. See how far they’ll go. Eddie makes a noise, and his hands retreat to higher ground; massaging Steve's temples, scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice is almost painfully tender when he murmurs, “No offense, but, um. You still seem a little fucked up now."

Steve nods mutely, because he can feel a rogue tear sliding sideways to his hairline, and what is there to say? It's true. He is a little fucked up now. (A lot fucked up, in fact. Kinda feels like Eddie's fingers down his throat would fix him, but he doubts Eddie would agree.)

Eddie maneuvers around the side of the couch, comes to crouch in front of Steve with his hands braced on Steve's knees. Looks up at him with wide, earnest eyes; two black moons, gravitational pull. "For the record," he intones, squeezing the meat of Steve's thigh, bringing his hand back down to Steve's kneecap with a mournful hiss of air. "I do want to. Fuck around with you, I mean, just- you know. Probably when you're not crying."

Steve huffs a quiet laugh. "You're not into that?" he jokes.

Eddie's dimple flashes. "Only when I'm the cause of it." Then it disappears again, tone serious and soft. "Do you want to talk about it?"

No. God. Not even a little bit; would honestly prefer to get another plate smashed over his head so he can forget this day ever happened. "My mom left," he croaks. He sounds fucking terrible, voice breaking and full of phlegm.

"Shit," Eddie says.

"Shit," Steve agrees.

Eddie gives him a long look — a Robin look, inquisitive and intense, like he can tear all the answers right out of Steve's head. Pluck them up like stray eyelashes; blow them away for good luck. Steve lets himself stare back, catalogs his features: all the freckles and fine lines, the pores, the vellus hair. There's a chicken pox scar just below one of his eyes, a faint silver pockmark that twists and shines in the dim light.

Eventually, Eddie must find what he's looking for because he claps Steve's knees and stands, rolling his shoulders back and down. "Yeah, sweetheart," he nods, "I got exactly what you need."

—

part 30

tag list in separate reblogs, if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[heyyypuddin]

Withering Petal Chapter 9 (Armando x OC) Bad Boys

Chapter 9

The next morning came around, and Amora got up groggily before getting ready to do her morning routine so she could take Bowser for his sunrise walk. Typically, she took him every morning, but with how crazy things have been, not much has been on its usual routine.

She looked in her closet to find something bright to try and cheer herself up, especially after remembering the events that took place last night almsot feeling the way his hands covered her and caressed her as she sat in his lap crying.

"Ughh, how embarrassing, oversharing, and boohoo crying in the man's lap. Way to go, Amora,” she mumbled, pulling out a bright pink athletic romper and pulling it on. She sat down at her vanity looking at herself and decided to put on a little extra make-up to help battle out the roughness she felt.

She glazed her lip with lip gloss, pulled her hair into a low ponytail, sprayed on some perfume, and was out her room door to head downstairs to prepare Bowser’s walking bag. She reached the living room and started grabbing everything she needed and bent over to put on her shoes.

“Goood morning” She heard a deep drawl.

Coming up quickly spinning around, she grabbed her racing heart, seeing Armando behind her, leaning his left hip on the couch with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants with that troubling smirk on his face.

"Geez, what are you a ninja?’ She asked, trying to calm her racing heart.

It’s not the first time he snuck up on her, and it’s not like he does it deliberately or she thinks, but he's always just... there.

"Nah, just a drug dealer."

She shot him a deadpan look, both of them knowing he's not your average drug dealer.

"Anyways, if you don't mind El Chapo, I need to take Bowser on his walk.”

He gave her a quiet curious look, and when she was about to ask him what he's looking at, he spoke, surprising her again.

“Mind if I come along?”

Her mind went blank at his question, like a computer that hit a buffer, creating an awkward pause—too long of a pause.

“If you do mind, I can just stay in here.”

"No, its fine, you can come; I'm sorry, it just took me by surprise,” she said, avoiding eye contact with him.

She really didn’t mind, but she just feels so embarrassed from last night. After trauma dumping on him. What are they even going to do—just walk in silence together?

That probably wouldn’t be so bad; at least nothing could run out of her mouth that would further embarrass her.

““I’ll go get my shoes”

He stated, quickly turning on his feet and walking away, leaving the distracted woman to her thoughts.

Coming back, he saw she was still in thought, wondering if it had anything to do with last night.

““You good?” He asked her, feeling concerned; he himself didn’t know why; maybe it was because it was the right thing to do.

He saw her eyes come out of her daze, and a small smile pulled her lips, but he could tell it was fake.

“Yeah, let’s go,” and she swung open the door and was out practically running. Again, confused eyes followed her, and he called out her name. She turned back at him with a puzzled look.

““Aren't you going to take Bowser?”

Amora stood there, still like a statue. Static silence filled her brain at the question.

“I can go get him for you...?”

“NO-.....” She yelled out, surprising them both.

“I got it. I will be right back." She spoke slowly, but everything about her was racing fast, her mind, her heart, and now her legs as she flew past him into the house and up the stairs into her room, shutting the door softly behind her, turning around and leaning on it, breathing out.

“Oh god, what am I doing?” she cried out at the shame running through her. She walked over to her vanity, fixing anything on her appearance that she could, trying to distract herself from feeling like a complete idiot.

"Ok, Amora, we were going to go out there, and we are going to be normal, okay? Hes just a regular guy who just happens to be a drug dealer and fugitive who comforted you on your sob story, okay?” She tried to pep talk herself.

“A man who just happens to be very fine and so far so completely different than what I thought—You know what be for real—I got this."

She took one deep breath in and sprayed a little bit more perfume on her before going out of her room and calling for Bowser. She didn't hear him upstairs, so she went down, continuing to look for him.

Yelling his name, she still didn't hear him until she saw Armando peeking his head through the front door.

“He came out here with me.”.

That’s different. She headed to where he was peeking through, and he opened the door, allowing for her to come out, and sure enough she saw that Bowser was out on the front lawn playing by himself.

“When did he come out here?” Amora asked, puzzled by what was happening.

“When you headed upstairs and was gone for a bit, I called him, and he came out here.”

Another confused look crossed Amora's face as she turned to face the man.

“You’re telling me that... he listened to you?”

He nodded, and she gave a quite hum. Since when did Bowser Event start to like him? When she was first training him, he didn't even answer to her at all.

"Okay, well cool, let me just grab one last thing and we can go." Amora told him before marching inside the house to grab her gun and any last item she needs for his walking kit.

Once she was done, she came out, and Armando was watching her as she put the gun in her pouch.

“Thats just for safety, right?” he asked her, and she looked at him with a small smirk.

“Unless you plan on giving me a reason to use it.”

He gave his own smirk, shaking his head at her, and they both admired each other, only looking away when Bowser gave a bark.

“We should go,” she quietly beamed.

“Yeah” Armando gazed at her, the sun rising brightly behind him. She felt a peaceful warmth fill her as she walked past the man shooting him a full smile.

Armando watched after her, feeling his own sort of peace, especially seeing her beautiful smile that he's starting to adore. He hasn't felt that in a while, but he definitely couldn't help but to stare at her ass swaying in the romper she was wearing; she looked gorgeous in that pink.

“You coming?” He heard her yell from way up ahead, bringing him out of the spell she had him. He knew he was going to enjoy whatever this was very much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About an hour later, the couple came back from their walk. Amora was telling him about different anime’s she would watch or her favorite movies. Armando is listening, taking notes in his head. Sometimes he would share about different places he traveled to with different deals that he did, which brought up talk about different places Amoras always wanted to go to.

“Believe it or not, I’ve always wanted to go to the Netherlands. I’ve seen videos and clips, and they just look so magical and unreal,” she starred out with stars and hope in her eyes.

He took a break from cooking them breakfast and started at her.

““What’s stopping you from going?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her.

She looked up from her sketchpad, that sadness now replacing that hope.

“You know why,” she huffed out and went back to sketching.

Not wanting to push it any further, he left it and continued cooking their food.

“What other places do you want to see?” He has asked, wanting to dissipate the cloud he sees storming behind her eyes.

“Well, I would love to see Japan; see what the hype is all about. You know, get a better feel for my parents. Another place I want to see is actually Ghana and Honduras, OH! I want to visit New York, but, in the wintertime, since I’ve never seen snow and the movies make it seem really special,” she continued, that light rising back in her eyes.

For the rest of the day, they continued spending time with each other, figuring out bits and pieces about one another. It was an odd but warm feeling for them. Never had they really had the chance to create a bonding experience in their upcoming or even really create friends. It was a feeling they both held on to through the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was finally late in the night when Amora came downstairs freshly showered in her pajamas to watch some TV. But she heard the TV already playing something. She quickly rounded the corner to see it was Armando watching Blue Exrcisot... shirtless.

She felt her brain short circuit at the sight of him lying back on the couch, one arm behind his head and his other near his groin, legs spread open even showcasing how big his legs were.

Her mind quickly traveled south of how she could easily fit between his legs on her knees, gripping those big thighs.

“Parece que te gusta mucho lo que estás mirando, Amor.”

She jumped at hearing his voice, feeling a tsunami of embarrassment hit, for what feels like the 20th time that day; unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time she got caught staring at him.

She walked over quickly to the couch, plopping down on the other side, away from him.

""Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting to see you in here,” she mumbled and grabbed her couch blanket to snuggle and watch the show.

It was quiet for all about 5 minutes until Amora broke the silence, curious as to why he was in the living room.

““Why are you in here? Is the TV in your room not working?”

Armando slowly looked at her and raised his eyebrow in question, and it dawned on her that it probably sounds like she didn’t want him in there.

““Not that it’s a problem—I actually don’t mind you in here; it’s just you never are. You can stay,” she wishes her words could’ve just stopped, but her lips kept moving.

“Only if you want to stay, of course, don’t feel like you have to know just because.”

“I just wanted to be in here with you. I hear you watching some pretty interesting stuff, and you said you were going to show me some of your favorites." Armando cut her off, with amusement on his face. She was so adorable when she was nervous; he would’ve let her continue but decided to give her a little bit of mercy.

““Oh. Okay cool” She sanked deeper into the couch, trying to calm her nerves that the half-naked man was bringing her.

“So who's your favorite character in this one?” Armando asked her, wanting to know as much as he could about her. Wanting to get closer to her, it's been enjoyable the time they've been spending together, and he's not afraid to admit that.

“Father Fujimoto” was her serious response, and Armando looked from the TV to her, unsure if he heard her correctly.

“The father? as in the priest?” He questioned.

Amora didn't look to him but kept watching the TV, trying to keep a poker face.

“Mhmm yeah, who’d you think I was going to say?”

“I don't know." He responded back to his regular cool expression, but the gears in his mind were running.

She let out a giggle from her lame joke, but it eased the nerves she was feeling. She felt herself relaxed, realizing she was still so tense from when she first saw him on the couch, but right now it felt as if she was just chilling with a friend.

“I'm just joking, while I do love his character, I'm going to have to go with Rin as my favorite."

She told him, letting out a few more small giggles and looking over at Armando, who was already looking at her.

“If you want, I can put on the movie they have and can explain as we go." He shrugged at her playing cool, but if he could be honest, that idea did seem really enjoyable.

“Cool, you like popcorn?” Again, he shrugged, but Amora didn't mind; she knew he wasn't a man of too many words. She got up from the couch excitedly and looked at him with the brightest smile he's ever seen her have.

“I'm going to make this the best night you ever had,” and before he could make a joke at what she said, she bounded away into the kitchen. He could think of a few ways to make this the greatest night he had, but for now, he's just going to enjoy the movie night that she's planning

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey puddin, sooooo sorry for the long wait on this chapter, I kept scrapping it not satisfied with how I wanted to build those relationship but I decided to leave it be as there will be more chapters for me to work on that, so I know this is a short-ish chapter but i really you hope you enjoy it 💕

[whatevertheweather]

Hi hello. I miss y'all. That is my own fault but it's still true, and I'm writing this on saturday night and feeling maudlin about how wonderful and talented and dear this fandom is and how I never join in anymore, so I'm making my little post okay.

I'm going with Musical Chairs again because it's so far past time for that to be done. And I've said this before, but it is approaching done. And I'm gonna get into that, but it'll all be behind the scenes rambling, so it's below the cut, and for those who don't want to delve that far, here is some freshly written Penny POV.

“Ah,” Shepard smiled, “a good deed wasn’t motive enough on its own?” “Not when it’s for a stupid reason.” “What is your un-stupid reason?” “Un-stupid?” Penny repeated. She turned resolutely to her drink. “Nevermind. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” “Hey now,” Shepard said, ducking into her line of sight. “You struck me as someone who prefers being honest.” It was a job not to smile at that, but Penny put the work in.

Now for the mess.

It's a good mess I think. I have a new section in my miscellany document, tucked in between nine (9) sections of ramblings and cut scenes, and the new section is called "we got it this time boys," and I think it's right. I've written a full draft of the scene that's been holding us all back. It's there in its entirety, it just needs to be edited. And I'm so scared to reread it, because every time I think I got this scene right I come back and it's wrong. Which I've decided to be fine with, because so what!!! So what if I got 36k right and there's 5k that doesn't quite hit the way I want it to!!! The earth will keep spinning!!!

Anyway, "we got it this time boys" is 3 pages of what is technically kind of an outline for 5 pages of story, and every time I read the header it's in the voice of someone from some black-and-white hardboiled detective noir, which brings me the joy that might be the only reason I feel I've gotten it right in the first place. The outline is all written about as cohesively as it starts:

I think maybe, and gosh haven’t I said this a million times, I just need to stop trying to go that way. Stop trying to go any way. Like always “how do I get them to this moment” instead of “what would they do in this situation.” Unfortunately, the latter requires I connect with them on a level I’m not sure I can right now. But I guess let’s try. Actually let’s go for a walk, I can see the sun setting on the top of the house across the way and it’s lovely. Okay nice, it was lovely. Relaxing, refreshing. Saw a stump that looked like a beaver. Saw a cat. Thought of the opening to something I’m never going to write. So anyway,

It also sort of ends with:

Oh shit came up on an obstacle immediately. [Redacted]. This does not actually open the door for Baz to say something that can incite “[Redacted].” Fuck god okay whoops already going completely back on all I’ve decided and thinking maybe we could keep some of the new exchange I’d written, maybe he does reveal the ugh no stop I hate this. Just figure out a transition to bring in [...], what would Baz say to that other than what I’ve written him saying to that which doesn’t work for what I’m trying to do. I guess it could just be, like…he murmurs incorrigible. Or something. With a raised brow, a la baz. Sure let’s do that, however, I’ve laid down to do this and learned I’m actually quite sleepy, so let’s do it another time. Hopefully I don’t come up on another immediate problem and despair. Just remember not to start combining things and rereading things yet, okay. Please.

This would be alarming if I hadn't already gotten past this point and written the thing. So I'm going to go into editing it with the mindset that nothing substantial shall change and boohoo to me if I want it to, and once that's done we're pretty much home free.

Now tags.

Gonna dip a toe back into being melancholy and wistful about this fandom k, I really do miss it even though I'm the only one keeping me out. You're all my friends even if that is a surprise for you to hear because we haven't talked in months or maybe ever, but I love each and every one of you x

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy

@bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @noblecorgi @alexalexinii

@rimeswithpurple @ivelovedhimthroughworse @basiltonbutliketheherb @whogaveyoupermission @facewithoutheart

@martsonmars @iamamythologicalcreature @run-for-chamo-miles @thewholelemon

@forabeatofadrum @youarenevertooold @ileadacharmedlife @monbons

[oddballwriter]

Unexpected Addition: And then There were Four

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Part One

Summary: After getting used to Steven and seeing Jake again it turns out your surprise team mission becomes a true mission that is assigned to both of you by your Gods. A hooray for you, Steven, and Jake! A boohoo for Marc. 

Warnings: Marc is still not too fond of reader. Steven's still a simp. Mentions of theft and grave robbing. There's a reference to violence with reader joking that they and Jake can "make someone talk". Reference to Layla and things that happened in show cannon.

Author’s Snip: Wow! A part 2? My first ever part 2? Look at him! He's a ✨writer✨ now! Honestly I can't wait to see where exactly this will go.

Notes: I have no idea what I'm doing I've never made a series before lol. I am both the writer and the audience. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Steven was already so lovely to meet and be around, but nothing beat Jake, your actual boyfriend. Since you and Steven had just met, you weren't on a physical contact level yet. But Jake and you were for sure beyond that as a three years strong couple.

As soon as you opened the door of your place it was clear from the paper boy hat on his head, smirk-like smile, and affectionate gaze that it was Jake at your door. Your face twisted into a smile immediately and embraced him in a hug in the same immediacy, getting a good smell of his muskier cologne as you breathed. Jake didn't waste a second to embrace you in a hug as well.

"Hola, beba." Jake greets as he puts his face in your hair and gives you little kisses on your head. He pulls away when you do and you notice the bouquet of your favorite flowers that he's been holding the whole time. "Para ti." Jake says as he hands them to you. "To make up for surprising you with Marc and Steven instead." he jokes as you take them into your hold.

You walk back into your apartment to find a place to put your new gift, letting Jake in. You move about for a bit, getting a vase and filling it with water, placing it down on the coffee table, arranging the flowers so that they look nice in their new home. It's while you're rearranging them that Jake comes up behind you and snakes his arms around your torso and holds you again.

"I missed you." Jake mutters into your shoulder. "I missed you too, Jake." you respond as you turn your head to kiss whatever part of his head you manage to reach.

Jake raises his head from its spot, showing his usually stoic face displaying more softer emotions and feelings. "I'm sorry about Marc. I know you told Steven that it was okay and that you were expecting it. But I know he scared you a bit." Jake explained. "Maybe he did, a little." you admit. "But he's allowed to feel that way. He's still got things he needs to figure out and get used to. I'm just another thing that got thrown in." you consider to Jake.

"You're not that shocking. He's just got his panties on a twist because you and I became a thing while he and Layla were still technically married. Even though he's the one who sent the divorce papers-" Jake rants before you gently put a hand up to stop him.

"Well, he did that on his own will. Marc's been the one who calls the shots for most of his independent life. He kept tabs on Steven and fought while Steven was put out. Marc's been the one in charge of everything." you mention. "Maybe he's upset because you're someone who he can't really keep under control and does their own thing." you theorize.

"So he's a control freak?" Jake laughs. "I didn't say that" you comment, "I'm trying to say that I'm foreign to him because he didn't get to have a choice and he's used to being the one making the choice." you correct.

"Well, he's going to have to get over that because you're-" Jake says as he suddenly holds onto you tighter and picks you up, "-sticking with around as long as I'm around." he settles himself and you on the couch, continuing to hold you.

"He's outvoted anyways. Steven likes you." Jake remarks.

And Steven liked you, indeed.

Although Steven would deny it because he didn't know how to go about it considering you belonged to Jake. And the last time he went about courting a member of the system's woman, he got punched in the face.

But Steven understood why Jake was in love with you. You were a good fighter and weren't afraid to get your hands dirty with both grime and blood either. You did good at your tasks as an avatar, like Jake, and technically the rest of the system. You were also fun, and charming, and kind, and pretty, and smart, and you smelled nice. So yeah, Steven had feelings or at least an attraction towards you as well.

Marc felt slightly pissed about this since he seemed to be the only one not running head on and blindly into you. He knew you weren't a threat, you were a fellow avatar and there didn't seem to be any issues with both of your bosses. If anything Khonshu and Sekhmet didn't really seem to care as long as you did the jobs they set you out on. And maybe Marc was a little mad at Khonshu for not saying anything about you and Jake when he literally threatened to make Layla his new avatar as a means to get him in line.

But it felt like maybe the damn bird was still messing with him with what he's just demanded.

_____________

"I do not understand how you could be confused, Marc. This is another pursuit of punishing those who are meddling with power beyond themselves." Khonshu remarked.

"No. I get that. But why does she's have to come along?" Marc asked, referring to you.

"You and Sekhmet's avatar came across the first piece of this together. I see no reason in not including the other half of this." the god explains.

"I understand you are not exactly fond of her avatar. But I have seen her work on some occasions and she is skillful in both calculating plans and combat. It will aid you in your mission." Khonshu explains, "It will also help you get out of your head. The three of you in that body can't always rely on each other." is also added.

Marc sighed in defeat.

Marc knew that Khonshu couldn't care less for what Marc wanted as long as he and the system did the job and didn't make an even bigger mess, and Marc was also sure that it was the same for Sekhmet and you. So he didn't have much of a choice other than bite his tongue and go along with it like he always does. And of course the other two are all on board with spending time with you.

So he let Jake and Steven handle all the tracking and research with you. But it turns out that not even that can be spared from being an unofficial date.

"Okay." you say as you throw the manila folder onto the table, and gently setting down a cup of coffee, for you, and tea, for Steven. "I pulled an all nighter last night in order to understand what's going on and what our plan is." you say, "So forgive me if I'm not made up." you joke as you sit down and open up the folder. "Oh, don't say that. You always look nice." Steven gently laughs earning a little smile from you.

"Anyways," you say as you pull out some papers. The first couple are what look like clippings from news articles talking about some desecrated places and stolen objects. "So these places have had some run ins with people stealing their stuff. Right?" you explain before looking up at Steven. He just nods and follows your hands as they move around. "These seem like random places maybe having some disrespectful tourists until," you build up in your voice before pointing at specific parts of the clippings, the dates, "These all happened within a few months! And they all have the same MO!" you exclaim. Steven, again just nods. " "So what?" You might be thinking," you say as you glance at Steven before looking back to the papers.

"That's what I want to know." Marc sarcastically says to himself.

You take out a map with different points highlighted and some crawled words next to them.

You send time explaining the cases for each of the highlighted countries. A piece of the Stonehenges was broken off in the night and no one can find it. Some of the skulls in the French Catacombs are missing. Ivan the Terrible's grave was dug up and his coffin and body were stolen and so is Vlad the Impaler's. Mapping out that a group of weirdos have been going in a clockwise direction in a stealing spree of weird occult and dark history. "For what reason, I don't know." is the words you said when Steven asked why with a sheepish hand raise, like he was a student in a class.

Either way, it was something about them having a path but now they've stopped after you and the boys stopped them mid heist. And that they're most likely trying to figure out a course of action.

"So now what?" Steven asks as he digests everything you've told him. "We wait." you say plainly, "We wait until they either hit their next target or there's a place that gets stolen from and see if it has the same MO." you explain. "Shouldn't be hard. Not many people want spooky paranormal objects." you add.

"And what about the stuff they already stole?" Steven questions. "Well, we can follow them around, snag one of them, and have them spill the beans. We can make them talk." you answer, most likely talking about you and Jake being the one's to handle that.

"But that's for when they start moving again." you clarify. "For now it's just the four of us." You smile as you lean in and boop Steven on the nose.

Steven blushes and looks stunned at the action, making you worry that you've crossed a line and violated his personal space.

"I am so sorry. That was from habit. I do that to Jake sometimes." you apologize before Steven smiles back and laughs showing that he didn't mind one bit.

Great... you're spending more time with them than just having to run a quick errand for your god bosses.

[ravenalla]

Just watched the new helluva episode and..ugh okay opinions under the cut.

Some people are saying this episode is better than the others of season 2. And while visually it’s stunning and not as directly insulting as some of the others, I think this episode is one of the best examples of how these writers don’t understand pacing, comedic timing, or creating a coherent plot. The cuts between locations happen way too fast, some scenes feel like they were written under a minute just to add fluff (like the Moxxie hat fight, Blitz talking with the woman in the waiting room and the entire joke once again just being a character saying curse words or insults multiple times in a sentence, camera crews conveniently being at the hospital to see Stolas hurt for some reason.) Also god Stella. At least when they made her a one-dimensional boring villain she was competent at being one. Now she just looks like a whiny idiot so they could have her brother be there for no reason.

Speaking of which, that was a damn terrible introduction to Andrealphus. Unless your following updates about the show on Twitter, you don’t know who the fuck that is, why he’s here or what his connection to either Stella or Stolas is until now, there’s only been one passing mention she even had a brother before this. He’s just suddenly there with no proper introduction, and then Striker just appears now to kidnap Stolas in front of tons of other people (I guess him trying to kill Stolas with the angelic weapon hidden in the shadows didn’t matter that much after all) and take him back to an underground lair he has for some reason. He also brings up the classist system and Stolas’s bigotry but it doesn’t matter because he hurt the poor uwu prince baby 🙄 I swear it feels like this show is AI generated at this point, or at the very least the writers know that the pretty animation and shipping fuel will keep diehard fans around so they don’t actually have to make anything tightly written and can just do whatever random hodgepodge of scenes and dialogue they like. Which whatever its clear this show is just “the sex joke” show most of the time, but don’t then try to tell me this is some masterclass of writing and character development when the entire climax of Stolas and Blitz’s relationship problems at Ozzie’s was addresses ENTIRELY OFFSCREEN THROUGH TEXT MESSAGES. Even if you ship Stolas and Blitz, how the hell can you accept that? That’s the sloppiest way they could have handled that, I don’t even like this show and I feel disrespected lmao.

And just the way they tried to make us “feel” for their relationship this episode. Why the hell would Blitz be so shocked Stolas could get hurt, you literally fought Striker before because he was two seconds away from killing Stolas instantly otherwise?? You were hired to be his bodyguard in one episode! Like yeah maybe actually seeing it happen is causing the reality of it to sink in for Blitz, but everything we’ve been shown so far INCLUDING IN THIS EPISODE shows how much he does not care that much about Stolas and at best has a mild acceptance of him (at least outside of seeing stars which everybody’s already talked about how weird that entire thing was). I literally have no idea why we are suppose to be rooting for these two to get together at this point. It’s just watching uwu Stolas get hurt over and over again so we can pity the guy and wonder why Blitz wont love him boohoo 🙄 it’s annoying and not fun to watch. Also this might be more of a nitpick, but did anyone else think characters looked weirdly off model a lot in this episode? Like yeah the animation was impressive at some points during the action scenes but during regular dialogue it looked like it was done by a completely different studio than the other episodes, especially with Stella, Andrealphus, Millie, and Moxxie. Not sure what that’s about or if I’m just imagining it.

[saratinz]

Maneater (Chapter 4)

pairing ➩ Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)

series warnings ➩ drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing

chapter warnings ➩ drinking, cursing, slut shaming, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk

synopsis ➩ Y/n fucks up, again.

word count ➩ 1.9k

a/n ➩ this is the first time I have ever written smut

How could he not have told you that he was a virgin? Oh my god, you just fucked a virgin. It was his first time and you wouldn’t have been so rough if you would have known. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Y/n?” Steve interrupts your breakdown.

“I have to go.” He doesn’t stop you as you get dressed and practically run out of his apartment. When you get outside, you almost vomit. How could he do that to you?

After going on a fifteen minute walk heading in no particular direction, you spot your escape, Thor’s frat. You make your way inside, smiling as you hear the comforting sound of horrible pop music and drunken shenanigans. A few minutes and five shots later, you spot Thor and wave him over. He stops talking to his friend and makes his way to you. With very minimal thinking, you grab his neck and push your tongue into his mouth. He gladly reciprocates, and for a single uninterrupted minute, you forget about everything. It’s pure bliss, that is until you hear a familiar voice, Bucky, and feel as he drags you down the frat’s hallway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, James?” You ask, poison laced in your tone. Maybe kissing Thor wasn’t the best way to deal with your uncomfortable emotions, but it was helping goddamnit. He leads you to an empty room, and makes quick work of closing and locking the door.

“No, what the fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/n? You are just so frustrating. You can’t just run away and sabotage something because you’re bored or scared or whatever.”

“He didn’t tell me he was a virgin. He waited until after the sex to tell me that very vital piece of information. I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“God, so you found the best guy on campus and couldn’t handle that he waited for someone he really liked. And for some odd reason it’s you, so you make a scene, doing what you always do.”

“And what’s that, James?”

“You go and whore yourself out.” You gasp out of pure shock. Unfortunately, the degradation goes straight to your core. You sick fuck. Why must the most fucked up insults make you horny? Whatever, you’re still furious.

“Says the biggest whore of them all, are you forgetting what you did to me?”

“Oh boohoo, poor Y/n, still heartbroken after two years of drinking and fucking everyone.” This man has got a real big ego. All you want to do right now is crush it. You want to crush him.

“Oh you really think I have feelings for you. You’re truly self-obsessed, holy shit.”

“No, sweetie, I just know things. I know that you don’t deserve Steve, you are a piece of trash that everybody is fucking tired of.” He starts walking towards you, and he doesn’t stop until your back hits the locked door. His hands rest on the piece of wood, on either side of your head. Are you really getting off on this? “People like us, we deserve the worst. At least I know that though, you’re out here thinking you’re worth something. You’re just a…” You cut him off by putting your lips on his. It takes a couple seconds before he starts to kiss you back. Once he gets going though, he is as rough with his mouth as he was with his words. Without even a simple warning, he sticks his tongue down your throat. After another brief period of bliss, he removes himself from your mouth and pushes up the hem of your dress, revealing your lacy thong. You let out a whimper as he moves his head down to your neck, sucking bruises into your soft skin. 

“Fuck, what are you, 15? Steve’s gonna see these.” 

“Are you really thinking about him, right now.” He asks possessively. “Whatever, let Steve know the real you. The pathetic slut that everyone, except him, sees. I’ll make sure he notices how you walk all funny, make sure he knows someone fucked you better than he ever could. Because whores like you are never satisfied with what the nice guy has to offer. No, you need to be ruined to feel good.” You don’t even bother talking back, knowing the more you fight, the longer it will take to get him inside you. And right now, you need him. “You want me to fuck you nice and hard?” He asks, anxiously waiting for your consent.

“Yes, Bucky.” As soon as you say it, he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you up. You finally reconnected your lips in a passionate fight for control. He wins of course, but you gave it a shot. He moves backwards toward the bed, never disengaging from your swollen lips. When his knees hit the frame, he sits down with you straddling him. His hands land on your hips, grinding you against his clothed erection. He grasps your dress once more, pulling it all the way over your head this time.

“Fuck, forgot about these perfect tits of yours.” You’re a moaning mess as he leans down to suck more hickeys, this time on your chest. “You remember who you belong to, baby?” You don’t plan on playing his game, but he forces out a ‘you , only you’  when he slaps your thigh harshly. “That’s right sweetheart, you can go out and hook up with any random douchebag, but you will always be my perfect little slut.” You are soaked from his filthy words. Finally, he takes his shirt off and allows you to caress his muscles that you missed so dearly. He rips your panties apart forcefully, and lifts you up to turn around and toss you on your back. His hands pull you forward until you’re right at the edge of the bed. You almost die seeing him get on his knees for you. He pushes two fingers inside your starving cunt. You moan loudly as he sets a brutal pace, brushing your g-spot with ease every single time he enters you.

“Fuck you’re dripping. What a fucking whore. Getting this wet from me calling you all sorts of nasty names.” He states, almost impressed with himself for getting you ready so fast. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum on my tongue.” With that, he licks your clit. His mouth brings you to heaven, just like how it used to. He’s giving you the best head of your life, but you’re so needy all you can think about is his cock. 

“Buck, wan’ you inside me,” You whine. He sucks on your clit one last time before he disconnects his tongue and fingers. He stares directly into your eyes as he puts his digits in his mouth and sucks off all of your juices. He looks like an Adonis as he stands above you. In a matter of seconds his joggers and boxers are off, and you’re flipped onto your hands and knees. 

He slides his length along your slit. “I told you to cum on my tongue, didn’t I?” He slaps his hand across your ass. You cry out, mumbling incoherently, waiting to get spanked, used, or anything Bucky wants, because right now, in this moment, you are truly his. Finally, he enters your tight heat. You don’t even realize you’re crying because your pussy is filled to the brim. Once you adjust to his length, the man behind you shows no mercy, pushing in and out of you like his life depends on it. You’re screaming from the penetration, so Bucky grabs your throat. “You don’t want the party to hear your pathetic cries, do you?” You tighten around him. “Oh my god, you do. You want everyone to know you belong to me, that this sweet cunt is getting ruined by the guy you hate, don’t ya?” 

“Please, can I cum?” You’re sobbing and so weak you fall to your elbows.

“Yes, sweetheart, go all dumb on my dick.” You let yourself release, the intensity of your orgasm is like nothing you have ever felt before. “That’s right baby, yep, cum on my cock.” He keeps fucking you, the overstimulation delicious and brutal at the same time. “I’m gonna fuck you brainless.” You cry out and turn onto your back when he pulls out. Quickly, you find yourself in the same position as you were with Steve, just half an hour ago. Except this time you’re not in control, Bucky is ruthlessly rutting his hips into yours from below. Your hands find purchase on his chest. 

“Are you gonna let me fill you up?” All you can manage is a pathetic ‘yes’ , he grunts at your response. “Alright doll, I’m so close.” 

“Cum f’me Bucky.” You push him over the edge, and he paints your walls white. You can’t even pull him out of you before you collapse on top of him, heavy breathing apparent as tears start to fill your eyes once again. 

“It’s okay doll, I’m right here.” He holds you tight, not daring to let go and leave you again.

-----------------------------------------------------------

What the fuck did you just do? Your breathing heavy beside the man who took your virginity all those years ago. Suddenly, you feel very sober. “This was a mistake.”

“Want me to walk you home?” 

“Umm, sure.” After a few minutes, the two of you are dressed and ready to go on the most awkward trek that either of you would ever experience. You two walk in complete silence, hoping that saying nothing will say everything to the other. Hoping the quiet will tell the other that this was a one time thing, and it will never ever happen again. You need to clear some things up though.

“Y’know, I don’t think I deserve Steve either, but he likes me. Im not going to keep fucking myself over. I may not be perfect, I may step on a few toes, but at least I try. I’m a decent person, you’re just an asshole. You really got what you deserved with Natasha.” He stays silent. 

After an agonizing five minutes, you finally find yourselves at home. Without a single word, you walk into Steve’s room. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, I really fucked up. Can you please give me another chance?”

“It’s okay, Steve. I overreacted. Just the idea of ruining your first time was something I couldn’t deal with at first.”

“Just so you know, I will never regret what we did. I really like you,” he lowers his voice, “And I really like having sex with you.” You couldn’t be more relieved. Knowing how he feels was exactly what you needed. 

“Steve I have to tell you something.” You are prepared to give him the news of your shameful night with his best friend, but you can’t bring yourself to say it, because you know it will break his heart. “I really like you too.” He envelopes you in his arms, bringing warmth to what has recently felt like a cold, dead heart. You pull back slightly, getting on your tip-toes to give him a peck. You figure the guilt will slowly fade, and you allow yourself to lay beside the man you just withheld the truth from.

Previous chapter / Masterlist / Next chapter

taglist:

@cjand10

[blatantprinterpropaganda]

alright this is just the mad ramble of a brain fresh off of episode 8 but currently what i WANT to see happen in the final four episodes is. kan is working towards revenge and either the mysterious guy she's working with (who is presumably someone from the community of her old neighborhood) actually is a little evil but kan still has good intentions OR (preferably) he only seemed vaguely evil because of the way we were introduced to him now, but it's intentional, because it seems like the show is trying to trick us into taking the rich family's side and sympathizing with them at every turn at the moment. they're getting all this hate, they're such sweet people, they don't know what they're doing wrong. this is true for home, who is generally clueless and doesn't understand where his wealth comes from, but uncle somkid definitely Knows (and... i'm not convinced he's happy home survived? this got lost in the muddle a little but i'm pretty sure that response to the news on the phone was not a yay <3 one), and of course so does the lawyer (mr. big), but we all knew the lawyer was bad news from the start. then there's granddad, who i'm pretty sure is also a bad guy knowingly, but he thinks he's doing it For The Family (and his grandson, etc) so of course he doesn't see himself that way, and this Family Curse he's talking about essentially seems to be "nobody likes us, oh boohoo, we're so misunderstood" when what they seem to have done is flatten a neighborhood where people were living to gentrify it/build some construction project that made the family a lot of money. so now home, who knows his grandfather as this nice loving silly guy with a lot of jokes, is on the task to lift his family's Curse and restore their reputation - but what does that mean? fighting the bad guys, who are the people who had their neighborhood razed to the ground? so. what i WANT is for home-peach-pangpang to work on this task of home's for an episode or two while actively trying to oppose kan, who they think has gone to the dark side, until they realize she is the one fighting the good fight even if she's going into it very hard - and either she makes amends for that itty bitty murder attempt (though i don't think she meant to hit home with that at any point), OR we'll learn it was never her work in the first place and this was another misdirection, which i honestly think makes more sense perhaps. i could fully imagine the next episode giving us another twist that tells us it was uncle somkid behind the accident, because again, we know he's doing bad stuff, he's been too kind and cool, and he didn't seem particularly happy to know home survived - AND he was the one trying to get home to drink alcohol before telling him to get into a car. either way though. parts of this episode seemed dangerously set up to be a plot that goes "these rich people aren't so bad, they don't deserve this hate" but dear god, i hope i'm reading this right and that's not where we're headed, because not only would that make less sense, it would also be unhinged (and very sad) if they went for that note with this series. i think we're good though. i do think we'll probably be okay.

[todomitoukei]

Villain stan, I was already expecting an ending like Naruto's anime. Complete trash just for people that experience the story through fanon more than canon. Still, I feel robbed.

This is an anime about SUPERHEROES! What was the idea of finishing with the complete LoV dead or in jail? It would have costed nothing to put Toga, Spinner and Mr. Compress running amok, ready to avenge Twice, Magne, Shigaraki and Dabi. Marvel and DC never had a problem with having villains running free and getting ready for a next battle. An open ending that re-starts the circle as the hores need their villains.

Because Toga's death was bs, not only for being avoidable, but because the fans basically took the moment Ochake opened up about her grief towards Toga to make a DekuChako moment (Neji's death all over again >:v, the only difference is that this time it wasn't the Mangaka's intention to move a ship, but the fans decided to spit in Toga's death none the less).

And honestly, while every villain stan was "Dabi will live" I was "Gods, I hope he dies, because enything else will be a trash ending" and I WAS RIGHT! AT LEAST GIVE HIM THAT LAST SATISFACTION!

Also, Spinner just staying in jail like WHAT? Spinner was the villain who most respected and was the most loyal to Shigaraki, don't make him just write a book, MAKE HIM LEAD THE NEXT LEAGUE OF VILLAINS!

And of course, Endeavor and Hawks have no consecuences for their actions, everything just forgiven, even by the victims. Honestly, I was always in the posture of LoV as family >>>> Todofam, so I wasn't expecting Dabi's end to be more than a "We did it, we stopped Dabi. Now we are free of the past and move on, even if Dabi honestly can't" and this is one of the few times I hate to be right.

(Sorry for the venting, thank you for putting this space to talk about it.)

No need to apologize <3

You're so right about Toga's death immediately being used for different characters having a moment instead of, you know, focusing on her. I'm not sure if this manga could pass the Bechdel test.

That really is why the ending is so bad - the villains seem to not have left as much of a mark as they should've, the fact that the hero ranking system continues being in place is proof of that. You would think that society at the very least realized that treating heroes like celebrities was problematic, and yet nothing about that part of the system changed.

To be honest, I'm surprised they even let Spinner write and publish his book rather than seeing this as some kind of propaganda or safety risk. Remember how early on in the story when those Stain videos came out? It's surprising then that they let Spinner do this.

An ending that suggests the cycle starts again would've been interesting, but remember, Hori went for a "happy" ending

Hori was clearly in over his head writing a story that he ultimately was incapable of writing. The story had so much potential, yet here we are with a story that eventually decided to have nothing change.

I think the Todofam would be great, but I've always been of the opinion that it could never work with Endvr around, which is clear when you look at the Todofam finale where they are all supposedly eager to talk to Touya, only for none of them to say anything beyond that except for Endvr, who also ultimately says nothing other than how much of a victim he is. Boohoo.

Yeah, we were right. But at what cost...

[meteor752]

Spent a whole week binging rwby because why not

Here are mah thoughts

Very interesting decision of the show to open on literally the best character, like I’ve heard of peaking early but come on

No but fr Roman is actually so special to me

I just finished volume nine and I broke down crying at his and Neo’s final moments

Thing is, I’m a person with daddy issues and my favorite family member is my uncle so like of course Qrow is second favorite guy

We love us a bisexual subby whore

Ozpin is number three so like guess what my favorite ship is

(Side note, My Own Worst Enemy by Elektric Angel is one of the best fics I have ever read and I cannot recommend it enough)

Why the fuck did this show start out with having one of the four main characters be racist?! What a bold choice

I hate Jaune so fucking much. If you like him, cool, but he’s one my most hated fictional characters ever, not just him but like what he represents

Tho it is worse with Neptune, who’s also like why tf are you here bruv

It’s very funny to have a borderline kinda racist character and a literal meme from 2014 be drafted into war

It took me five days to break and create ocs. They’re called Lemon Lime, Azure, Iris, and Koral. Team LAIK. Maybe I’ll talk about them more at some other point

Listen okay I know that animated shows like to have your hero be depressed in a whole arc, but like god Ruby was kinda grating in season 9.

Blake is kinda rolling with like, one personality trait, but ya know good on her for getting a cool gf

Yang is also the best out of the main four girls

So is Tai, Summer, and Raven’s relationship supposed to be a polycule? That must have been awkward for poor Qrow back in school

Why the fuck is everyone so mad at Ozpin all the time. Like boohoo, daddy didn’t tell you Santa isn’t real, get fucking over yourself Qrow you’re forty three

But fr what is the animosity about. I think Jelloapocalypse summarized it the best in his rwby video

Also did you know the top comment on there is from Technoblade? Check it out, it’s true. No idea he was a rwby fan, but like good for him

Season 6 episode “Alone in the woods” is the best episode by far. I really like when they do more unique stuff with the Grimm, other than just ‘monster’

That being said I’m always a sucker for a space whale

But the line from that episode, “No one was angry or sad or scared. No one was anything. And then, no one was left” is so powerful

Season nine is like fully a fever dream, but it helps with connecting to the main four again, so I like it

Also they need to stop introducing characters we don’t need any more it’s so cluttered

Why the fuck did the tree have Summer’s weapon? What the fuck was she doing there, frolicking in wonderland? Gurl…

I miss Oobleck. He hasn’t been around since like season 4, like what the hell man

What the fuck is Cinder and Emerald’s relationship supposed to be? Are they sisters? Friends? Is Emerald in love with her? Because she seems to be.

Emerald and Mercury are fully siblings tho. Also I love Mercury

Arthur’s monologue to Cinder was one of the best scenes in the show. I loved it, I’m sad he died

The character I relate the most to is little scorpion freak, because honestly dude saaaaaaame

God I want Salem to fuck me

The motivation of the villain being that they’re an immortal being, who wants the world to end because then they can die, is so fucking interesting and I’m surprised I don’t see more of it.

Do you guys think the only reason that Jaune was made leader of team JNPR was because they couldn’t think of a colour with those letters that started with P?

Do you think that’s how they choose all leaders?

How the fuck is Ren supposed to be a version of Mulan? Apart from him being Asian, there’s no correlation. Jesus Christ…

Him and Nora are very t4t tho. Very glad that they established boundaries about their relationship tho, like open communication is all I need

Why is Ambrosius kinda 💅

This isn’t related to rwby but there’s like a bird or smt screaming outside my window and it kinda sounds like a ghost girl and now I’m scared…

I feel like Salem and Ozpin’s relationship is very uncomfortable with Oscar stuck in the middle. Like why did they have to make him fourteen

Pupsicle!!!!

If I had a child in this universe I would absolutely name them something that starts with a vowel. Some of these team names are a fucking stretch, I mean SSSN?!

Another bold move by the creators is having the first few seasons villains be minorities fighting for Justice and equality. Like idk anything about these dudes, but it’s a little yikes

The fact that everyone in this world is an X-men and the show took four seasons to actually explain that is hilarious

Actually the show taking its time to explain anything is hilarious

Like, six seasons in and we find out the villain’s motivations. Hell four seasons in and we find out the villain

The first opening song was easily the best. Like I said, peaked early

The ship names of this fandom are fucking baller dude. Very creative

[katyspersonal]

God, seeing someone from Twitter screech at my friend in all caps calling him gross and telling him to 'get away and never speak to them again' for pointing out clear slandering misinterpretations in Gehrman's character, and then turn around and pull CSA surviving as an excuse was.. something.

Okay I am pretty sure all 10 of you already know that because I overshare obsessively, but I am a CSA survivor too. Like, my whole lifespan from age 8 to age 18 when I could finally escape that hell was spent like.. that. It left me with a lot of impulse problems, especially when 'touchy' subjects are happening, and I can also yell or straight up be cruel to a person when conversation takes a certain turn. Not just at cis men, anyone could have that bad luck

The thing is, I really, really, REALLY don't want to be like that. Trauma doesn't give people a free pass to lash out at and insult those that didn't do anything wrong! Like, yeah. when a traumatised person acts like this, don't pretend to forgive their outburst only to deliberately backstab them at their weakest and throw them to an ableist that is obsessed with kicking them out of the fandom as a harmful monster (looking at you, A and Eugene!).

But at the same time, remember that it is absolutely not okay to take out one's pain on the people around. It should be addressed! I am not immune to feeling personally threatened when someone """defends""" a fictional character that just had the worst luck of resembling my abuser in this or that either. But other people are not in my head. Or in the head of the person that insulted my friend like that. Or in the head of any person with any trauma. I am just baffled by how someone would hurt another person and then bring up the CSA trauma as a shield, just so any questioning of their actions will look extremely insensitive. But also, I wonder whether I am better, after all. I need patience and understanding, not hateful propaganda and dehumanisation Eugene and her goons were pulling, but if I call you awful things and names in my triggered state I am still an asshole, okay? Being traumatised or oppressed is never a free pass to be cruel to men/cis/whites/whatever. Outbursts will unfortunately happen sometimes because healing and growing thicker skin is not a linear process. But the crucial part of healing is to recognise that trauma is a trauma. It is a BAD thing. It makes you see people that didn't mean anything bad inadequately and hurt them in defence of a threat that was not here. That's why you should heal, or if you can't then keep focus to minimise this.

I know that everyone copes with trauma differently (and oppression too), but coping should NOT include hurting others with expectation that saying "boohoo cishet/white/male that never knew SA or oppression cry me a river" will absolve all that. It is just stuff like this that makes me understand not only what I might become like if I lose focus, but also how close I already am to being just as aggressive

[pecanwriter]

Very Uncool Love Story part 3 (MPREG, WG story)

Themes: M/M MPREG romance (low key slow burn) between a fat librarian and a disabled punk musician

Words: 2203

Part: 3/?

Their first date ended up a stroll by the river and a coffee at one of the Pier restaurants. Larry was surprised at how easy it was to talk to this person he only just met, but it really felt almost natural. Almost, because let's be honest, he was still an awkward nerd, but even that didn't seem to pose much of a problem around Oliver.

It was embarrassing to even thing about the way Oliver made him feel; he couldn’t remember if dating always felt like this, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it didn’t.

*

"Hello?" He put the phone on speaker with his elbow, hands completely covered in dish soap.

"Brother! You're cruel, why didn't you call me yesterday?! How was your date? Tell me everything!"

"We walked along the river and talked, and then we went to get coffee at the Pier. That's it, not much else happened…"

"Soo… Did you enjoy it, do you like him? Will you go out again?"

"I really enjoyed it. It was so easy to talk to him, I was surprised…"

"Oh my god, my brother is in love!"

"Stop it, Arianna! I'm not in love! But, I want to spend more time with him."

"How old is he?"

"He's twenty-eight."

"Oh my! Maybe it's not too late for me to dream of becoming an aunt!"

"ARIANNA!"

"What? I'm just saying! I had Jonas when I was thirty-seven, he still has time to pop out a few…"

"I'm hanging up."

"Larry...“

"Goodbye, sister."

*

"Hello?"

"Hey, Larry."

"Oliver!"

Oliver's laugh came out crackling through the receiver.

"Who were you expecting to hear calling from my number?"

"Er…"

Oliver snickered.

"So, listen. I really enjoyed that the other day."

"I'm glad you did! I mean to say, so did I…"

"Great, so listen, I’m kind of… in a band. It's nothing big, just a hobby with my friends. I thought maybe you would like to come to see us practice?"

"A rock band…?"

"Well, duh."

"Do you remember that I'm an uncool librarian?"

"Oh boohoo! I want you to come. And the band… They're my friends, they will not care if you're cool or a librarian, or whatever. Besides, the lead guitarist is an accountant. And the drummer, my brother-in-law, is disabled too. "Cool people" are not really what you imagine them to be, trust me. Or at least not the ones I hang out with."

"An accountant…?"

"Don't tell me accounting is any cooler than Library Sciences."

It was Larry's turn to laugh.

"What?"

"I never met a cool rocker who knew the proper name for Library Sciences."

Oliver was silent for a moment and Larry felt immediately sick with anxiety. What has he done this time?

"Okay, so tomorrow at six, The Hole in Tooting. Call me when you get there!"

Larry stared at his phone in bafflement. What the hell was his life becoming?

*

He looked at himself in the mirror critically. Larry made excessive efforts to not look like a fat, middle-aged librarian. The effect, however, was still a fat, middle-aged librarian, only in more subdued colours. He opted for a turtleneck instead of a collared shirt, even if he felt that it made him look older. On top of that, he wore his least librarian-esque blazer and grey chinos: he didn't have any black ones and even if he did, he felt like it would make him look more like a priest and less like a rocker.

*

The Hole seemed to be exactly what it advertised itself to be, Larry observed, staring at the ragged, old metal doors that were only halfway corroded, with the name of the club smeared on it in a chaotic, yet presumably artistic, hand.

He called Oliver.

"Hey, it's Larry, I'm here."

"You came! I didn't think you would, you sounded honestly terrified on the phone yesterday."

"You invited me, of course I came…."

"You're the cutest, Larry! Someone will get you in a minute."

"Someone?" He asked, feeling instant anxiety at the prospect of interacting with someone new.

Larry viciously fidgeted with his sleeves as the rusty door whined itself open. A slim man in his mid-thirties with a mop of light brown curls and eyes to match smiled at him with a smile that made him look ten years younger.

"Larry, I presume?" He clipped in an accent similar to Oliver’s.

"Y-yes, hello."

"Come on in then, yeah?"

Larry followed the brown mop inside as it bounced.

"So you and Oliver shaggin'?"

Larry sputtered.

"No! I mean… We're just… we went on a date but I'd never…"

"Easy, I'm just fucking with ya" the man snickered, he looked at Larry over his shoulder as they kept going down the dingy stairs. "You're a proper big lad aren't ye?"

"Uh…"

"I mean, you're tall, man! How does Oliver reach you? He's a bean."

Larry let out a surprised snort of laughter. A bean? He'd have to remember that one.

"Aaron, what are you doing to my guest?” Larry felt himself perk up at the clear sound of Oliver’s voice. “Hey.” Oliver said with a smile, reaching a hand out.

Larry took it as if to shake it but Oliver used that to pull himself close and hug Larry. Aaron was right, Larry thought, Oliver was really tiny. Larry shyly returned the hug, resting his chin on top of Oliver’s head just for a moment. “Well, well, did you dress up for me?” Oliver asked after he backed away to arms-length. Larry was about to be embarrassed upon the realisation Oliver just pressed himself against his flabby body until something else caught his attention. “Are you okay? You look tired…” He said before thinking. Oliver’s face had a greyish tint to it and there were heavy dark circles under his eyes that didn’t appear to be make-up. “You’re such a sweetheart, Larry! See how he worries about me?” Oliver said to Aaron.

Larry couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t reply to the question.

“Come, let me introduce you to the band!” Oliver said, pulling Larry’s hand. The basement they were in was rather spacious and the bare concrete walls were covered in intricate graffiti. There was an area with round old wooden tables and a bar. In the furthest corner of the room stood an elevated stage. Larry could see three people busy with setting up their instruments, two men and a woman. He mentally scolded himself, because for some reason he didn’t expect a woman in a rock band.

“Hey, guys!” Oliver waved, dragging Larry behind him. “Come meet Larry!”

The woman jumped off the stage, heading towards them. The dark-haired man did too and then waited, helping the last man get off the stage and hand him his crutch. Larry looked at the band that gathered before him. There was the dark-haired man, his long hair hanging around his face, his long sleeves rolled up to reveal heavy tattoos. He looked at Larry with a small smirk that made Larry instantly aware he was being analyzed. Not in a mischievous way, more like… Studied and filed for further examination. The other man was very classically handsome, with a mane of golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was leaning heavily on a crutch and smiled at Larry when their eyes met. The woman was… Larry blinked. The woman looked exactly like Oliver would if he was a woman, only with a slightly darker complexion; the skin was more pinkish in tint and the hair was platinum gold rather than white. Just like Oliver, she was attractive but with sharp, severe edges that could be considered too sharp to be classically beautiful.

“You’re… Oliver’s sister?” He asked, locking gazes with pale blue eyes, also darker than Oliver’s.

“Well, well, Oliver told us you were smart!” She snickered but it quickly turned into a smile “Hey, I’m Ester, nice to meet you.” “Larry, it’s a pleasure.” They shook. “This here is my big oaf of a husband, Matti.” She gestured to the handsome blonde man who flashed Larry a cheeky smile. “And this is Kian.” “Pleasure.” Kian said, his brown eyes flashing with a smile “I’m the famed guitarist-accountant.” “Famed where?” Ester quipped. “Nice to meet you all." Larry said. "I'm excited to hear your band."

Oliver laughed, hugging Larry's arm through which his own was still entangled.

"See? He even lies adorably!"

Kian and Matti exchanged looks and Larry wondered what that was about.

"We're just playing covers, it's not much,” Oliver said, suddenly looking a bit bashful.

“I’m sure it’s great,” Larry said, not being able to stop himself from squeezing Oliver’s arm.

“Well, let’s get to it then, shall we?” Kian asked, slapping Matti’s back.

“Grab a seat at the bar, I’m sure Aaron will pour you something nice.” Oliver’s face contorted a bit and Larry felt suddenly really upset when he realised that Oliver wanted to wink, but he didn’t have enough control over his injured eye to actually succeed.

He watched Kian lift Oliver effortlessly to the stage and Larry felt irrationally jealous.

For some reason, Larry was shocked to see Oliver grab the microphone. Revealing his deeply seated sexism, he thought the sister would be the singer, but she grabbed the bass guitar instead. He didn’t have time to sufficiently prepare mentally before they started.

Oliver started singing and it was nice, surprisingly subdued and calm for a rock song, but it was nice.

But then, he really sang.

With his full voice. His clear, cold-as-ice tenor and Larry was simply shocked. Oliver had talent, there was no doubt about it. Larry was sure the rest of the band was great too, he couldn’t really tell. And neither did he really care, there was something on that stage he cared much more for than the instruments.

Larry remembered that they only played covers, but he wouldn’t be able to tell if he wasn’t told so. Oliver was so… Vibrant. That was what was so mesmerising about him, Larry realised. It seemed like everything had its saturation turned down to minus twenty while Oliver operated on at least plus thirty. When he sang, he really sang, as if he understood the song better than the author himself did. It made Larry yearn for something. Made him feel desperate to be this passionate about anything…

“So, did you like it?” Oliver asked, when an undetermined amount of time later he was sitting next to Larry at the bar. Larry found himself thrown into such deep melancholy by Oliver’s voice that he failed to notice when they stopped playing.

“Oliver…” Larry started, but realised he had no idea how to finish.

“What?” Oliver’s eyes widened comically. “That bad?”

“No! God, no! You’re… You’re a really good singer, Oliver. I really… I really liked it. A lot. I would love to come to an actual concert.”

“You don’t have to lie, I’ll still like you even if you hate my band.”

“I’m serious, Oli.” Possessed by the onslaught of emotions he just experience Larry grabbed Oliver’s small hand and clutched it tightly. “You’re fantastic.”

Oliver didn’t say anything, simply smiled at him and covered Larry’s hand with his free one.

“Thank you for coming, Larry, it means a lot to me.”

There was a moment of stillness when they just looked at each other and Larry could’ve sworn Oliver started to lean in, before Aaron clonked two drinks in front of them very, very loudly.

“Fuck you, Aaron!” Oli hollered throwing a beer coaster at the barman. “Let’s get out of here, I need some fresh air.”

“I think the air here might be fresher than above ground.” Larry noted, but nevertheless slid off his stool and helped Oliver get down, handing him his crutch and receiving a beautiful smile in return.

“They’re terrible for you.” Larry said, looking as Oliver pulled a cigarette from this pocket once they were back on the street. “We all have to die of something.” “You will have smokers breath.” Oliver cocked an eyebrow. He stood still for a moment, finally putting the cigarette away and reaching to bring a very surprised Larry closer. He grabbed his shoulders and almost forcefully dragged him down. Before Larry even had time to think, their lips met. He was enveloped in a cloud of fresh citrusy perfume and skinny leather-clad arms and with soft, warm lips pressed to his. He very shyly, very hesitantly, wrapped his arms around Oliver's tiny waist, bringing him closer and deepening the kiss.

They finally parted and Larry felt like he was about to pass out, but instead, he burst out laughing.

"What's funny?" Oliver said, defensively.

"Lipstick." Larry choked out, looking at Oliver's slightly more punk Joker impression. He fished out tissues from the depths of his pockets, wiping his own face and then gently holding Oliver's chin in one hand while cleaning his face with the other.

"Damn. I might need to change my lipstick." Oliver grimaced.

“Does that mean you’re going to kiss me again?” “It is included in my five-year plan, yes.” Oliver answered, completely deadpan.

Larry laughed again as they walked towards the Tube station, hands gently entangled.

PART ONE

PART TWO

[yassalghul]

ok so life rant under the cut

ok so ok sO

life in shanghai is fine

i mean i get paid very well and the cost of living is very low

school holidays are mad long so i get huge breaks through the year

but i work long hours in term time and it's very overwhelming sometimes, especially when i'm a week away from it starting up again after the summer holidays, and i know i shouldn't complain bc i got a promotion that i basically begged my boss for but i'm terrified of the new year starting and me having the new responsibility

but also life in shanghai is so annoying because the city is so big that it takes FOREVER to get anywhere and we live far away from the metro so if you don't get a taxi (traffic) then you have to walk 15 minutes, grab a hire bike, cycle 15 minutes, THEN get to the metro where it's at least 40 minutes into town

and when you're in town there are SOME museums and nice things to do but most of the stuff that's accessible to foreigners (slash popular) is clubs, bars, live music (but not the good stuff unless you're into dance music or whatever) or eating out. and like those things are fine but not the things i like to do. and the climbing gyms here suck and the board game cafes are forever away and there's other fun stuff but it's just hard to even get started with it

and then this summer was supposed to be great but we had a month in england with husband's family and it was nice but SO STRESSFUL oh my god and we were both just kinda counting down the days til we got some holiday time to ourselves and it feels like this whole summer has been wasted and i'm going back to work and he is studying uni but from a distance so again we're going back to him being home alone and me working long hours and i know we're here for the money and to save for a house and sometimes it's great but other times i just worry that it's not sustainable for another two years

and when we were home i only got to see my friends twice?!?! and i was so excited about the whole holiday, we both were, and it ended up just sucking and it all just feels like such a waste

and i want to move back home like england home and i can't bc like what will we do where will we live

and if i finish the job i'm doing right now, what other jobs are there? where will we live? like what WHAT jobs can i do that arenm't the one i already do, i have made myself into a niche job person and screwed myself over because now i can't really do any other jobs and i have NO experience of jobs outside of working in education anyway

and i kNOW the grass is greener on the other side and i know things will probably be better soon but it's not better now and that just SUCKS

and like all of this is such first world problems and i know this

like oh boohoo my next holiday is to nz and my work pays for our flights

but like we're going to nz so we can have christmas with family and actually i'd rather just have christmas with husband somewhere nice just us bc we couldn't do this summer together but i'm always stressed that i'll disappoint my family and this is an example of it and i hate this i hate it

[onewomancitadel]

After two years of arguing on my silly little Tumblr blog, when one volume manages to vindicate everything I said about one of my favourite characters and the consequence of his narrative actions, the major thematic thrust of the show (when naysayers said otherwise), as well as prove at least two of my theories that had major character and story consequences (Raven was involved in Summer's disappearance and knew about it/the brother gods are not the original-original gods), you have to imagine the sort of position I'm in now emotionally. It's a very strange one.

I had people arguing with me for ages about most of this - that V8 was bad and the show was actually cynical and mean and fairytales aren't real, that nothing was ever going to eventuate with Jaune [insert whatever method of him being written out of the story here], that the Penny issue was not in any way analogous to Pyrrha, that any speculation surrounding the possibility of Knightfall should just be dismissed (and probably to boot the story will be cruel about Cinder).

I'm not trying to say 'boohoo, I was right and you were wronggggg' because I don't think it's about being right or wrong, contrary to the average notification-hungry user's belief. It is actually purely about emotional investment and the way my assertions were treated - and hey, arguing can be fun, so it's not like this is some saintly endeavour. But it is really really interesting that the position I was in (and am in) was and is treated as fundamentally absurd. On some level, I've always reserved doubt myself.

I'm the first cynic. I'm the first person to call my own theories into doubt. So to be in this position once again, that I found myself at the end of V8 - that oh shit, we are actually really fucking doing it - is very, very weird. It's not like I have definite 'Knightfall is canon' on the brain - that's one of my chief concerns here, obviously, lol - but what is really interesting is that the pieces to get there related to Jaune's (and Cinder's) character have been set up. Exactly the same way as they did with Penny. Because my first reaction to him killing Penny? It was, Oh holy fuck we are really doing Knightfall. That is pretty much the only way you can make Knightfall plausibly work, and how they played the Penny problem this volume would indicate whether they were doing what I thought they were doing.

I don't think my position has really changed - every succeeding volume raises my eyebrow and makes me take the narrative more seriously, but I'm not one to ever say this will definitely happen. I try to reason based on the text and my instinct and my, you know, pure enjoyment. I think Knightfall (and the ideas related to Jaune and Cinder, and separate to them, Ruby and Ozlem et al.) embodies the most interesting and playful ideas about R/WBY. But I'm not an I-told-you-so type, and that's not what I want this post to turn into. I just think it's funny, and joyful. It does feel rewarding to be the person that everybody said was being too optimistic about Jaune's character, or whathaveyou, to be... vindicated.

That is why storytelling matters, to me. That is why narrative twists and narrative events which you can predict aren't inherently disappointing. It is absurd that people act like the best stories are ones you could never possibly see coming to the point that they alter storytelling logic and break their own narrative. That's silly, and I hope modern writing is moving past that cynical hiccough. But on the other hand - if you take a text seriously and think about it really hard, even when you know what's coming, it doesn't lessen the fun - the thrill is in the execution.

The thrill is also in being the person a lot of people said was crazy.

[bugbeingautistic]

1 - Blender

2 - I ALWAYS struggle when drawing something facing forward

3 - minecraft, fnaf, pokemon

4 - mephone4’s god damn hair that i struggle to draw constantly . if i knew how to draw it YOU BET YOUR ASS that i’d pump out mephone art constantly

5 - 95% of the art i make is posted

6 - hous3’s artwork……

7 - water color

8 - Underground Legends; first attempt of making an object show

9 - i try to keep it formal unless its just doodles .

10 - formal shirt collars

11 - Classical music

12 - upper body

13 - uhhh popular fnaf artists that end up on my pinterest homepage

14 - motifs ?? im going to assume . theme of art . So i’ll just say SATURATED COLORS whenever i get the chance to add them . I’m trying to understand how HOUS3 does their color schemes and shading to help me with MY colors and shading

15 - usually on my bed , on my drawing tablet my dad got me a year ago

16 - getting my tablet set up . its why i get so upset when i JUST get done with drawing , and someone says “hey can you draw ___” IT MAKES ME SO MAD because that means i have to get my drawing tablet out AGAIN

17 - I do not eat nor drink whilst drawing ! If I am drawing , i am fully concentrated on that and ONLY that . i tried eating tacos while drawing but i ended up drawing for so long i couldnt eat the other taco and i got boohoo sad sad :(

18 - my crappy paintbrush

19 - i dont really draw those !! but i LOVE drawing mepad’s shoulders where they end and I get to draw the projectors that allow him to have holographic hands !! thinking about calling them hand enablers to save time .

20 - HANDS

21 - Mellohi’s art 💙💙🤟🤟

22 - does straightening posture count

23 - I am an overlay mode extrordanaire

24 - yeah actually :]

25 - nothing yet i dont think 🧍🏼🧍🏼

26 - ohhh . my old art teacher ALWAYS misinterpretted my artworks . ALWAYS . he’s an old guy and hes just trying to relate with the artwork because he obviously liked it - so i cant be mad

27 - I dont warm up i just draw really

28 - art exhibition (upcoming) woohoo ! hurrah . yippee . 🫡🫡🫡🧐🧐

29 - paintings - i have no clue WHY . it just doesnt spark me

30 - my final four art :[[ i really did work hard on that - and im glad it got attention !! but i keep seeing it get glossed over so easily on tumblr - it has 30 somethin likes , last time i checked

Weirdly Specific Artist Ask Game

Didn't see a lot of artist ask games, wanted to make a silly one.

(I wrote this while sick out of my mind last year and it's been collecting dust in my drafts, I might as well let it run free) 1. Art programs you have but don't use

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

3. What ideas come from when you were little

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

9. What are your file name conventions

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

12. Easiest part of body to draw

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

14. Any favorite motifs

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth)

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any

23. Do you use different layer modes

24. Do your references include stock images

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with

28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines)

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

[milhouseinyoursoul]

sometimes bad bitches have to call the hotline, sob uncontrollably to a nice lady about their dead family and crippling drug addiction, pick themselves up & keep slaying.

god im rlly not slaying. ok i am physically ngl i look pretty sexy lately but i literally fetishize my illness lmao.... but in every other aspect there is no slaying to be seen, this is a disgusting flop era .

i hope when i see my therapist again next week she sends me to rehab or inpatient, like genuinely. because i will not sign myself up, it doesn't seem like it's on my dad's radar at all, and i cannot tell him how much i am a danger to myself. i dont know how else im gonna get better.

if left unattended i may not cut myself or directly attempt suicide like i used to, but i drink n chainsmoke cigarettes n smoke weed, fent and meth simultaneously and starve/dehydrate myself and not sleep or shower or speak to anyone for weeks on end and sit there and wish i was dead very badly.

i have nobody to blame for how awful i feel but myself at this point. like boohoo ur mom abused u and killed herself and ur brother killed himself too fuckign figure it out and go to college and get a job and be NORMAL, why tf do u have to do all this.

somebody said "treat yourself like somebody you're responsible for." and that fucked me up bc i partake in every form of self abuse imaginable that people can't directly see, excessively and on a daily basis.

literally the only way out is forced accountability, i am not gonna dig myself out of this "gradually" or with "baby steps" bc aside from all the Horrors i am running from i'm already just a hedonistic piece of shit with no motivation, so i have to be honest w myself and admit i need somebody else (the fucking mental hospital) to be responsible for me for a bit so i can pick up where they left off in taking care of myself once i get out. there's no shame in admitting i need help if it keeps me from being dead.