#thank you op this is glorious

[ariadne-mouse]

@outquisitor I hope you're pleased with yourself. I know I am.

[daniclaytcn]

.

[lycorogue]

[Image ID:

PNGs of the three cat paw colors used for "booping" during the 2024 April Fools Day event. The orange paw print with brown toe beans is coming from the viewer's left. The black paw with gray toe beans is coming from the top of the post. The white paw with pink toe beans is coming from the viewer's right.

/end ID]

idk if Tumblr will keep the boops going after today, but through the power of discord emoji, you can boop your friends in a server. or idk, paste them in someone's askbox.

[only-luce-the-goose]

The Prank

A/N: my first formula fic!! My requests are open if you have someone you want me to write for!

Arthur Leclerc x Norris Reader

Trope: Dumbasses (best friends to lovers)

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, nothing else really

This is based of something I was on Twitter (I refuse to call it X): person a says “I came up with a good prank”. Person b asks what it is, a says “we should kiss”. B says “I don’t get it”, a says “imagine them walking in to see us kissing and just being like “WHAAAAAT??” B says “oh, that’s hilarious. We totally should”

Synopsis: You and Arthur have been best friends since he saved you from a bully when you were kids. You grew up in the Leclerc household, so they knew you very well. You followed Arthur around the world for his racing career. You guys had been given the nickname "Terrible Two's" for all the pranks you pulled around the paddock. Sometimes you pulled them on each other, sometimes you teamed up and pulled pranks together but there was one prank that really topped off the rest of your pranks.

"Y/N!!!" Arthur shouted from the shower in your shared bedroom. He walked out as you hit record on your phone, filming as he appeared. He had his towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist, his hair was dyed a deep red with remnants of the dye dripping down his chest. "Seriously?" he scolded "I have to go to the Ferrari pit tomorrow and my hair is bright red!" You could see the fury in his eyes as you laughed. "Yeahhhh, you're gonna be matching the cars". He crossed his arms over his muscly chest and scowled "Stop filming me, idiot" you rolled your eyes and chucked "Whatever, moron" you said as you stopped recording. You posted it to your story, with the caption "Ready for @ scuderiaferrari tomorrow!" and tagged him in it.

You heard Arthur's phone buzz from the vanity in the bathroom as he headed back in to dry off. You stood up to pack up a bit from your day, getting as ready as you can for tomorrow. This time he came out in a pair of checkered sleep pants, saw you stand up in front of your suitcase and lunged at you, tackling you into the bed. You shrieked as he started assaulting (tickling) you. "St-st-op Art- arty" giggled out. "You turned me red, then posted it for the whole fucking world to see. You deserve this" After successfully kicking him onto the floor, you noticed your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You swiped accept on the call as you answered "Ah, my favourite Leclerc brother. What can I do for you Charlie?" You heard Arthur shout and "Oi" from the floor, making Charles laugh. "I just needed to see Arthur's hair" he grinned. You flipped the camera around and showed a Shirtless, red-haired Arthur lying on his back on the ground. Charles burst out laughing "good to see the support, brother" he got out in between laughter. "I'll leave you to whatever you're doing, y/n. Thank you so much for Arthur's hair" he chuckled as you said goodbye and he hung up. You leaned over the side of the bed, making eye contact with the boy on the floor "wanna get Charles tomorrow?" you asked him. "The day I say no is the day the world ends" he replies. You laughed as you rolled under your covers, Arthur standing up and getting into the bed next to yours, agreeing to come up with the prank tomorrow.

I was lying awake in bed, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think about was how Arthur came out of the shower earlier, his glorious torso on display, towel so low you could see his v-line. All I wanted to do was go over and kiss him silly, he’s so hot when he’s cranky. My crush on his has lasted years and he has no idea. I couldn’t ever tell him, it would ruin our friendship and I don’t ever want to lose him. If we’re friends forever then so be it. I put my earbuds in and put on a good playlist, drifting off to my favourite song.

I woke up the next morning with a crushing weight on my chest and hair tickling my nose. It wasn’t until I felt the fingers tickling my ribs thats I started wriggling around, trying to get the giant on my body. “Arty what the fuck” I grumbled “I was having a really good sleep you prick”. He chuckled and rolled off me, lying next to me a pulling me body into his. I looked up, nearly bumping his nose with mine. I was really hoping he couldn’t feel how fast my heart was beating. “We have a prank to plan”

After you finished getting ready, you hopping in the car with Arthur and headed towards the paddock, brainstorming pranks in the car. “I came up with a brilliant one” Arthur tells you. “Ooo what is it?” My curiosity peaked. We haven’t been able to think of any good ones for Charles all morning. “We should kiss” he said nonchalantly. If I had a drink I would have choked on it, instead I stuck to internally freaking out while my heart started beating out of my chest. “Umm what? I don’t get it. How is that a good prank?” I stutter.

Arthur laughs “just think about it. He walks into his drivers room to find his younger brother and childhood best friend making out, our hands all over each other. You could sit on my lap and we could really go to town, Charles would walk in and freak out. He might even faint!” It hurt a little to think that Arthur only wanted to kiss me for a pranks, but there ain’t no way I’m passing up and opportunity to kiss my crush, even if it isn’t supposed to mean anything.

“Ohhh I get it, that’s would be fucking hilarious. We just have to time it really well and make sure no one sees us go in there” I add on. Arthur agrees “that’s it then, the perfect prank” I chuckle at his declaration. We pull up the paddock, scan our passes and make our way in, making small talk with people but never straying too far from each other.

We saw Charles doing some media before he needed to go in and change into his fireproofs and race suits. I tapped on Arthur’s and should and pointed at his brother, explaining my thinking. I agreed and we rushed inside the Ferrari garage, making our way to the drivers room. I hung around the front of it, keeping an eye out Charles so we could start making out at the perfect time.

A huge group of people made their way, signalling that Charles was moving closer. You could hear him and Carlos talking about the track as they came closer. I quickly slipped into his drivers room, finding Arthur already sitting on the bench. I walked over to him as he patted his lap, “hang on” I semi whispered. I could hear that Charles and Carlos had stopped walking, they couldn’t have been too far from the doors. Once I could hear Charles getting louder I looked back at Arthur, “you ready Arty?” I asked. He nodded and pulled me into his lap.

I moved me knees to go on their side of this body, my right hand slide to the back of neck, sliding my hand though his hair and I grabbed a handful of his fluffy hair. My left hand sling around his broad shoulders. His left hand dipped under my shirt to hold my waist, his other hand wound around my neck. He offered me a kind smile as he used the hand around my back to guide me towards his lips.

It started with small pecks, quickly moving to Arthur slipping his tongue into my mouth, exploring while he got the opportunity. Moved myself closer to him, gripping his hair harder which caused him to let out a low moan. I heard the door to the driver room open as I kept making out with my best friend. The hand around my neck moved to ass, moving me to grind on him a bit.

Charles and Carlos stood in the doorway, dumbfounded before Carlos turned to Charles and said “told you they had a thing for each other, cabrõn” and walked off. Charles stared at his friend as he walked off. He looked back at us, still making out as he walked in. He slammed the door shut, making us jump. “What the fuck is going on? Why are you making out? Why are you doing it in my drive room? Oh my god I need to sit down” he rambled.

I got off Arthur as we started cackling, Arthur turned to me and said “told you it was a good prank, he’s absolutely freaking out” I laughed and looked back at Charles. He looked at us like we just old him Santa wasn’t real. “Wait, this is a prank?” He asked as we nodded “I thought I wouldn’t have to listen to Arthur whine about you anymore y/n but this is going to make it so much worse” I was about to ask something when Arthur grabbed my arm and dragged me out.

Once we got outside the garage I stopped Arthur. “Hang on, Arty. Just stop for a second” he stared at the floor. “What did Charles mean when he said you were whining about me?” I asked him. He tried to deflect the question and walk off. I grabbed his hand, turning him to me and lifting his head the make eye contact with me, asking my question again.

Arthur sighed, putting his hands on either side of my face and kissed me. It wasn’t desperate like the previous make out. It was slow and loving. “I don’t really know to say this, now that Charles has outed me, but I’ve liked you for years. The more than best friends kinda like. The reason I came up with that kissing prank was to get the chance to kiss you, even if it is supposed to be to mean nothing.”

Arthur kept rambling, struggling make eye contact. He looked at him, then smashed your lips into his “I like you more than I best friend should too. I have for years” you smile against Arthur’s lips as he kissed you.

[elodieunderglass]

To be fair to Jack Glass, an AI facemorpher app was never going to produce someone with any kind of alternative or queer energy whatsoever. It's just not how they're trained. I mean, that haircut is not a reflection of Elodie + T, that is the haunting spectre of ~60k random white guys whose data they scraped off Facebook to make the model.

Right fine FINE since we feel so strongly about the sheer provocation of poor old guysona Jack Glass let’s HAVE HIM BACK FOR A MOMENT, let’s chew on him SOME MORE, with his PODCASTER FACE APPARENTLY !!!!! Christ!!!!

MmmmmMMM I think , with all the love for humanity in my heart, that no matter how hard we might try to scrungle him, this is just A Good Man. it is A Good Man of a different species to myself. but ecosystems are beautiful and balanced places; full of things that are not my business, natural wonders that don’t need my opinion, and mysteries beyond my power to plumb. WHATEVER, it’s FINE. Am I not the first person to fight for the rights of the Bob? Do I not myself champion that there is no such thing as “looking queer” ? Have I not said before that such beliefs damage our whole community and hurt our people?

Nobly did I stand for the rights of the Bob, but I had not considered that but for a twist of the sliders, I was also capable of being a Bob all along!!

(Also I was kind of doing a bit, since the point of OP’s post was a celebration of trans people who are having a damn good time leaning into their inner Bob, as everyone should.)

However, the lessons that Jack Glass has to teach us are many, and one of them is: if a dark mirror showed you that inside your bi bitch self there was a guy who was, detectably, some sort of straight-looking guy with a DnD podcast and the ability to reverse parallel park as well as opinions on loading the dishwasher: can you be chill? Can you face up to the fact that a different brow line would simply make you appear extremely opinionated about fly fishing? And if not, why? Ultimately I do feel that I can be chill, with room in my heart for my inner Jack, even as I lay facedown on the floor thinking about how i BET he does his own oil changes. and that was the spirit I shared him in. The belief that because there is mundanity in the beautiful queer, there is beauty and indeed queerness in the glorious mundane.

And what came of it? Well, much condolence and sympathy, and many shared stories, and many people saying that while it may be very hard to face up to Jack Glass, what is important is that he looks kind. And that is another beautiful lesson of Jack Glass, which is that no matter who your dark mirror is, they are lovable to someone; whether this is helpful for people transitioning or simply helpful to hear in a psychological way, it is worth saying.

Thank you for this 🤝 and to everyone who, with charity and kindness, told me sincerely that they believed in his latent bi energy 😤 and may his lessons, whatever they are to you, be a blessing to those who need them.

[peggyao3]

Pt. 31 - Pegging

A/N: Wohoooooo, I actually finished kinktober 🥳🥳🥳 and only burned myself out a tiny bit. SUB!FEYD IS BACK for the final belated day and we're going out with a bangggggg (literally)

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, mega sub!Feyd, slight mommy kink, slight praise & degradation kink, anal sex, fucking him until he says it's too much but she keeps going and he likes it, mentions of past dub-con done to FMC by him

WORD COUNT: 740

"My silly boy, do you even remember your own name, hm? Or have I fucked you stupid?"

Feyd-Rautha lets out a pitiful noise and all the glorious muscles of his arched back shiver under her touch when she trails her fingertips up his spine. His bound hands, which rest against the small of his back, try to reach for her, aimless and sluggish and she snickers at the pathetic attempt. Demonstratively, she leans over him, one hand curled around his flank, the other tickling the nape of his neck.

"Hmmppff—" Feyd huffs into the pillow. Triceps and trapezius muscles bulge under his sweat-damp skin when the thick shaft of the phallus strapped to her pelvis sinks into him fully, forcing a delicious shiver through his wrung-out cock.

She is so deep, he could cry.

"Look at me," she demands and her deceptively gentle fingers curl under his neck, searching for his chin in the heap of spit-damp pillows. Like a dog after a bone or a boy after a piece of candy, Feyd-Rautha chases after his darling's hand.

Deviously sweetly, she indulges him when his blotchy face appears in profile, cradling his soft cheek which is still red from the backhand she had given him earlier, when he deserved it. "There's my boy, so pretty."

His pink lips stand apart, shiny with spit, black teeth only made visible by the glossy reflections on them. An hour ago, when they had started and she first had him speared on the artificial cock, those dark eyes had been glinting with impotent rage. Ever since then, she has unraveled him, stroke by stroke, thrust by thrust, and his tight hole had loosened up to her and he had shivered in pleasure as she gave him climax after climax. The bed linen beneath his pelvis is mottled with inky seed.

"You can give me more, baby, wouldn't you like that?" She swipes her thumb along the corner of his wet mouth and cants her pelvis, rocking the thick head of the toy into Feyd-Rautha's prostate.

"Aahh," he moans pitifully and his lids droop. She picks up the pace, short, deep thrusts due to the small range of motion. Feyd's torso is longer and broader than hers and she wants to keep his pretty cheek in a cradle.

"There you go. Mommy's little slut."

"Ahahah—" Moans curl into drowsy giggles; a scrunch of his hairless brows. His glutes flex against her pelvis and his nails bury themselves into the crescents he has already dug into his fleshy palm.

"I did fuck you stupid," she purrs and presses her free palm against his back. "Lower."

Feyd-Rautha obeys, smushing his torso into the sheets with his ass still elevated enough. She folds herself over him, breasts coming flush against his shoulder blades. Resting most of her weight on him, her palm slides around his flank and the hard, twitching planes of his abdomen before cupping his painfully overstimulated cock.

The jerk that runs through his muscles is vicious and she retorts with an equally vicious squeeze of his throbbing cock. Her merciless hand then wanders to his bruised balls, tugging and squishing like he's only a toy. 

"Sto-o-op," Feyd whines and finds his pathetic pleas stifled by a thumb pushed against his tongue. Instinctively, his lips wrap around it and he is almost thankful for it. What sort of man would he be if he couldn't endure the same abuse he had given her over and over?

"You're so sweet," she coos and he is glad that the phallus isn't made of flesh and blood, or else she could have felt the needy clench of his hole.

Each drag of the obscenely thick toy is like a punch into his guts. This is absolutely, definitely too much. But his darling doesn't even think of stopping. Feyd has a feeling she's going to keep him here and cumming on her cock like a bitch in heat until he is bleeding down his balls.

Release creeps up on him in painful waves and the contractions of it have his muscles thrashing under the soft cage of her body and his teeth sinking into her thumb as he screams his lungs out, voice ground into hoarse, grating roars. The next thrust has his knees buckling and his cock is crushed by the weight of his own body. 

Blushing in shame, Feyd feels each pathetic squirt of seed directly against his navel.

A/N: If you would like to read more from me in the future, feel free to check out my ongoing Feyd x scientist!FMC fic Relic or my Masterlist for numerous oneshots ❤️

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst, @gravesdiggergirl

[clothless-sock]

keep at it boys

Will introducing Nico to different cuisines: This is shrimp fried rice

Nico in awe: you’re telling me a shrimp fried this rice??

Percy in the kitchen commanding the shrimps: keep at it boys

[youkaiyume]

Very sad to read about that deleted scene of bee showing op a pic of charlie but it confirms my headcanon that he has indeed been insufferable about her for 7 years so

p.s.: i love your art so much thank you for the glorious content 😭❤

IT'S TRUUUUUEEE I die.

[saint-vagrant]

for the love of god stop with these Rational Thinkers' paragraph + italicised "VOTE!" posts. is anyone moved by this? i've seen "vote for whoever you like, but just vote" VOTE FOR WHOEVER BUT JUST DO IT? BRO! that's somehow more pathetic than demanding that you back biden or else you're too young and too old and too stupid and too academic and ultimately a traitor if you came to a different conclusion and act, to your best ability, in accordance with your ethics.

like yeah you'll do whatever and so will i, i guess. but it's psychically painful to see this totally coincidental influx specifically since october 2023. people calling leftists (well specifically anti-imperialists &/ communists) "russian/chinese/3rd party agents" who are "lying to you to stop you from voting." it's been worded as "your friends are lying to you." that is so cool. it's like 2016 in here. yday i saw "voting isn't about which leader will sign off on your glorious revolution" which is such a snide misunderstanding of... most things, i think? it's giving "proudly launching headfirst down stairwell." more than half the time i check out OP, they're openly a zionist, or end up there by default in the sense of being a bland milquetoast etiquette-obsessed "let people enjoy things" centrist who's so mistrusting of information or pattern recognition that if you possess either you're corrupted by "ideology."

why would it be necessary to lie? what purpose for a big convoluted conspiracy? for whom IS this simplistic, condescending, dispassionate shit anyway??? surely not for the people whose families are burning alive, thanks to the american government who robs and brutalises its own people in order to fund further massacres. because how could you look that person in the face and tell them "no, you don't know fuckall about how things run around here. now is the time for political decorum" ?? there must be such a sense of comfort in the idea that those people are "over there." like i think it's pretty unfortunate that a lot of these posts begin by citing some ~dramatic~ ~babybrained~ "take" committed by disgruntled "western" posters (who are spies) but when i heard the source, or when i go find it, it's by a palestinian or muslim person or just someone from whom it like, kind of makes sense why they feel the way they do! but then it's characterised in such a vague wussy ass way! huh??!!! like it seems very convenient to ignore WHO is organising/mobilising/criticising, WHO is protesting and abstaining, so that these posts come off more sound and reasonable than the leftist sleeper agents who appeal to emotion over sense. and i'm not even telling you not to vote! i'm wondering why it's so impossible to conceive of a reality where a marginalised person or group concludes that the health and safety of their community will be sought and achieved through other means. you really can't imagine that? that's dumb to you?

so i guess i, too, don't care what the hell you do with your precious little life, but it is So Fucked to talk down to people about genocide like it's a petty, inconvenient wedge issue we have to sidestep for the greater good. fwiw voting isn't wholly irrelevant to me, And Also, i understand being against a system means, for many, abstaining from its approved tools and pouring efforts into direct action. this is not a new approach! greater good is sought and achieved mainly and actively on the ground— not from above. moreover, there is no good greater than opposing and ending genocide for fuck's sake! jesus!

[yuurei20]

Hello! I was wondering if you know if there's ever been a name given for the MMORPG Idia and Lilia play together? I tried looking into it, but haven't been able to track down anything on EN that gives a name for it 🤔 Thanks!

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! ^^

I am not sure that the game has been named anywhere as of this post!

Idia says he is "not cut out for co-op multiplayer games," with the game he played with Lilia being an exception. There is a niche, multiplayer "shoot-em-up" game that is mention in Book 7, but it might be different from the MMORPG that we see Muscle Red and Gloomurai discuss so often, and I do not believe that we ever get a name for either of them!

Idia also might play gacha games, but I think the only video game he names outright is the video game adaptation of the anime "Sled Over Heels" (JP: Love Sled)

Idia also mentions playing unnamed dating simulators ("I can map out all the flags and speedrun my way to the end of the route. *sigh* Yikes, that was top-tier cringe even for me."), reading unnamed manga and a "top tier toy collection."

What kind of toys he collects might never be specified, but he lectures Ruggie on figures during Glorious Masquerade ("Well-made figurines aren't just toys. They're works of art.")

As for his other interests, he seems adept at 3D puzzles, a fan of idol group idol group "Precipe Moirai" and of a classic horror B-movie called "Creepy Hollow" (JP: Pumpkin Hollow).

Idia seems to enjoy board games as well and is a member of the board game club, along with Azul. Azul's school uniform vignette is all about Idia trying to get him to play a dice game called "Magical Life" instead of a strategy game ^^

[teddybeartoji]

@aimfor-theheart @kisstoru

pls draw more wolfwood he looks so dreamy and pretty in your artstyle <3 love ur art as a whole btw

sir yes sir. roger that sir. he's the love of my live sir

[sanakimohara]

https://www.tumblr.com/sanakimohara/764854221641236480/need-dad-pics-of-chan-but-not-like-the-funny?source=share

You ask, I deliver

first pic: he's college professor

Secound pic: he's feared wanted Mafia boss

Third pic: he's a police officer

He looks like a dilf in all these pics so here take them 🤗

You’re a life saver, love! *smooches you* I shall add these glorious photos to my collectionnnnnn thank you !

P. S. That last photo and fit he’s in reminds me of a COD skin so much and I still think about writing a little headcannon fic about him being a COD op sometimes just because he looks like he’d fit in there.

The stance? The tactical accessories?!!? The body?!!?! it’s giving Lieutenant Christopher ‘Chan’ Bahng of a special forces unit and I’d fall in line to his every command so quick !! 🖤😭

[mystic-orb88]

ARCANE SEASON 2, ACT 3 SPOILERS:

Stop. Now.

Can I just say Ekko is the most perfect and flawless character ever created and now I wish he and Viktor and Jinx could have all met somehow and done cool science stuff together. But this frame here genuinely makes me so sad. I’m crushed. But also, I like when conflicting circumstances tear characters apart, to me. I like the tragedy. So I’m glad in our Ekko’s universe, they didn’t stay together. It would be so out-of-character for my girl Jinx.

Also I like that it wasn’t just a boring fan-service episode. It proved a point, and we also had Jayce’s fun adventures in Nightmarefuelworld. ANDD THE Z-DRIVE, WOOOOOO!!!!

Jinx was already perfect, but so is Powder.

I’ve always hated romance, whether it was real life, or cinema. But this scene was incredible. I love them so goddamn much. Actually sickens me. They are everything to me.

Him smiling back at her the same way Jinx did after their fight on the Bridge. How dare you, Fortiche??

Jinx’s reflection in place of this world’s Powder’s.

Viktor and Jayce’s fight scene and…. Whatever that ending was, was gayer and more erotic than anything Violyn could fathom. Sorry guys. What the Hell was he doing cupping his face like that, wrapping his legs around him, faces mere centimetres away, all without actually being physically there but also exploding together in the astral plane?? The way he said ‘As partners’?? Likeeee, I ain’t never seen hand-to-hand combat like that. Look at these soulmates. Just as a platonic relationship I love it, and it’s wayyyy gayer than anything else. He chose dying with his space boyfriend over the insanely gorgeous Mel, who also got a fabulous glow up, is undoubtedly the hottest character in the show, ANDDDD has OP Arcane talents. Bravo Jayce, you simultaneously fumbled and won and disintegrated into nothing with your astronomical lab ‘partner’. Singed was right- One does unspeakable acts for love.

We got Viktor in Mel’s eyeshadow before G.T.A.6.. Slay my King. Thank you for your pretty little hallucinations, Jayce.

Alsoo, let us pay respects to this fine Yordle who waited over 100 years for Ekko, sure can sing, and sacrificed himself so that Ekko could get back to his right world.

I’m glad that at least ONE of my favourite characters had a happy ending. Singed wasn’t the most ethical scientist, but he sure is a Hell of a father for doing all that.

Sevika in the Council. She finally beat Silco’s corrupt underground empire and overcame the oppression Vander faced. She finally understood how he felt when she betrayed him, after the Zaunites wouldn’t listen to her, and now she can do something about it. So happy for her. She deserves it. The true leader of Zaun, everyone.

Alsoo, I’m a strong believer in the ‘Jinx is alive theory.

More critically however, I think there were too many needle drops (however good they were), the pacing was pretty rushed compared to Season One which was pure perfection, and I wish we got something more similar to League Viktor, because now Only-Arcane fans will not understand the true meaning of Glorious Evolution. I think Viktor’s character arc was over-simplified and I just feel empty about it. Kinda disappointed. He means so much to me. But damnnnn Jayce got validated as HELLLL. No complaints there. I hate him in League but always liked him in Arcane up till episode 6. Bro was just an idealist. Also their ending was ambiguous did they die together or just remain in the astral plane, forever integrated within the arcane. If Singed could save Orianna, can’t he find their corpses somewhere and save them?? I need cyborg Viktor. I wish we had the adventures of Blitzcrank and his cyborg father. I’m also bothered by that continuity error about Vander’s betrayal and when exactly it takes place. Also don’t like what they did with Silco’s character, in Ekko’s alternate world AND in the original world, because how could he just forgive Vander like that after all the hate he was always full of?? I’m sure there’s an explanation, but they didn’t have enough time to go into it.

This is the actual best show I have ever seen personally. Thanks for the stunning writing, flawless art-style, loveable characters and impeccable queer/disabled/POC representation. No other show has ever moved me so much. I hope Fortiche continues to make more series like this in the future. I love Runeterra and its Lore so much.

[apomaro-mellow]

OP's post

As far as jobs go, this gig wasn't too bad. Eddie wouldn't call him a connoisseur of the fine arts by any measure, but he knew how to appreciate passion that went into every work. He wasn't there to gawk though. He was there to guard. A friend of Wayne's worked the night shift and had gotten Eddie the job during the day.

So he got to patrol a pretty swanky art museum and broaden his horizons. And the pay wasn't half bad either considering how cushy it was.

Like most art museums, the exhibits were divided by era and country of origin. Sometimes whole side rooms dedicated to a single artist. There were mostly paintings and statues housed here, with the occasional odd exhibit like masks or minature figures. There was an annex building across the street that held the collection of modern and post modern art.

Eddie typically preferred the kookier stuff there but he enjoyed being around the classics. Especially the statues. Especially Steve.

In the hall for marble statues, there were many the depicted the human form in all its beauty, but none were as beautiful as the one simply titled 'Steve'. That definitely seemed like an underwhelming name for such a magnificent piece. But in the couple of months he'd been here, Eddie had grown to love the simple name.

Steve was carved in a lounging position and when Eddie first saw him it looked like he was waiting for a lover. There was a cloth carved into him that draped in such a way to only just barely give him modesty, leaving the rest on display. Had it not been stone, it looked like the slightest breeze would expose him. Like most of his peers, Steve's body looked strong and sturdy. And yet the way he was posed and positioned made him look soft.

Eddie didn't notice the first time he looked but after passing through and looking enough (leering, gazing, obsessing) he realized Steve even had a glorious patch of hair on his chest. Now that was rare. All these bare chested figures and very few of them showed any body hair outside the one atop their heads.

And that mane of his. Thanks to policy, Eddie had to keep his own locks in a tight bun under his hat. Steve's hair, thick and luxurious flowed freely. Eddie thought more than once to touch it, sure that despite the marble it was as soft as it seemed.

Another eye catching feature was the scarring on Steve's back. To make something so exquisite and then put the suggestion of violence... Sometimes Eddie wanted to look up the history of Steve's creation.

So greeting Steve became a normal part of his guard route. Even when he technically wasn't supposed to be in that wing, who was gonna stop him?

"Morning gorgeous", he'd greet some mornings as he passed by, coffee in hand.

Sometimes, when the room was mostly clear, he really would just stand and stare, taking it all in. He could look at most of the art for only so long before he lost interest (except for some of the landscapes, some of them were breathtaking and literally took him to a different world) but Steve.... Steve was something he could look at for hours.

And he would've if the crowds didn't come by to get a gander as well. So he did his job, made his rounds, kept people from getting too close to the art and then clocked out around 4.

"Night Stevie", he said on his way out, even though Steve's pedestal was out of his way to the exit.

It was all pretty nice until they switched him to the night shift unexpectedly. Eddie was a night owl by nature, but he preferred to use that time leisurely. That and he was more likely to come across an actual thief at night.

And also museums were kinda creepy at night.

He took a deep breath and leaned on a statue of the goddess Nike.

"Let's make a deal. I do my job, you slice and dice anything that comes through those doors."

As he bargained with the stone goddess, he thought he heard voices down the hall. Must be the other guards. For sure. Besides Eddie, there were like, five other guys doing patrols or watching the cameras. They were all Wayne's age though, so not a lot in common.

Needing a balm for his nerves, he ventured towards Steve's way.

"Heya beautiful. I knew comin' to see you was the right choice." The moon came in through a sky light and made Steve glow. "I'll come back for you Stevie, probably more than once if I have a choice."

Eddie was walking past Steve when he heard a voice reply to him.

"I'm glad you came tonight."

Eddie froze, and carefully turned.

Steve was looking over his shoulder.

"You....you're...."

Steve got up from his lounging position to stretch his arms and back and it sounded like rock grinding gently on rock. Eddie could hear similar sounds all around him. All of the statues were moving. All of them.

Eddie was still frozen solid in place. Almost like he and Steve switched places. Steve was sitting upright on his stand, that cloth still just barely covering him.

"Did you mean all those things you said?", Steve asked.

Eddie didn't know what he meant but he never lied so he just nodded.

Steve curled in on himself, bashful looking and Eddie wanted to wrap him up.

"You really think I'm beautiful?"

Eddie found his voice because if there was one thing he could say right now it was what he thought of Steve.

"Like an angel. Like a vision. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." This time Eddie stepped closer to Steve, still in shock but not afraid. "So, I am in fact totally mesmerized by you and by what's happening, but what the hell is happening?"

Steve held out a hand and Eddie took it without question. It was still cold and the surface was hard like stone but somehow flexible like a real hand.

"I'll explain on the way", he said, stepping down so that he was on his feet. He was about the same height as Eddie.

Eddie had about a million questions. But Steve's voice was as attractive as the rest of him so he could listen all night.

[ereardon]

That Summer Part Nine [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Synopsis: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, violence, alcohol

Chapter summary: Bradley escorts Y/N to the debutante ball. All is going well until an old classmate, still hung up on Y/N, gets drunk and starts trouble.

Wordcount: 3.8K

Series masterlist here; Part Eight here

Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs, his palms slick with sweat, nerves racing. Next to him, your father stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Bradley fought the urge to fiddle with his bowtie, to tug at his too-tight starched cuffs, to shuffle in his shiny new shoes. 

He felt like a fool. He was going to walk in and they’d know within a half second that he was a fraud. An imposter. They’d know he didn’t have a dollar to his name and that his skin was tan from working outdoors not lounging and that he didn’t know which fork to use for a fish course. 

And then you rounded the corner, one hand on the wooden bannister, and every worry Bradley had flew out the window. 

All he knew was that you were the most perfect thing he had ever laid eyes on. That nothing, not a single thing, not a glorious wave or a tender raspberry or his mother’s laugh or a cool sip of water on a hot day had ever for one second been as perfect or as right as you were in that moment. 

You grinned, eyes locked on his, descending the stairs in a swath of satin and pearls, hair pulled back softly into a bun, lips cherry red, fingertips encased in silky gloves, curves perfectly visible while also still hidden beneath the smooth lines of the dress. 

Your father cleared his throat as you stepped onto the last step and Bradley tore his gaze away, trying desperately to calm his heartbeat. 

“Pumpkin,” your father said, stepping forward, pressing his lips to your cheek. “You look great.” 

You smiled and held his hand tightly. “Thanks daddy.” You turned to Bradley and he felt every cell in his body light up. “You look nice, Bradley.” 

Words. He had to say words. But he was starstruck. Finally, he unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Thank you. You look perfect.” 

Your father narrowed his eyes as you beamed, his large, aged hands still holding yours. “Sure you kids don’t need a ride?” 

You shook your head. “No thanks, Daddy. We’ll meet you there.” 

He nodded curtly and you tipped your head toward the door, Bradley following on your heels. You handed him the car keys and he opened the passenger door, helping you into the seat before making his way around, revving the truck to start. 

Bradley pulled the truck out of the driveway, turning out onto the street before holding out his hand over the middle console. You took it and he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your glove. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered softly. 

You blushed. “Thank you.” “I mean it, Birdy. You’re perfect.” 

You leaned back against the chair, gripping Bradley’s hand tight as the two of you sped down the road. 

Past the valet, you sucked in a breath. Bradley’s hand was tight in yours and you dropped it, looking at him. 

“We can’t look too close,” you murmured as two men in uniform opened the double wooden doors, ushering you inside. 

He nodded. You held onto his arm, entering the lobby. 

The club was beautiful. Historical, with giant ceilings and wide wooden panels. The main hallway spread out as far as the eye could see, and it was lined with portraits and stupidly small silk couches that somehow never got stained or even touched. 

A waiter passed by with a tray of drinks and you grabbed a flute of champagne, downing it in a few sips before discarding it on a lacquered side table. Bradley winced. “Birdy,” he murmured. 

“I’m fine,” you said but you were only pretending. If Bradley could only hear the thoughts in your head. Feel the way the blood buzzed in your veins. 

If only he knew how absolutely terrified you were. Because you knew that there was the potential for everything to come crashing down. 

“I have to go upstairs,” you whispered. “Escorts gather by the stage there. We walk down, do the dip, then I grab your arm and you walk me over to our table.” 

“What the fuck is the dip?” he asked. Someone turned their head nearby and glared and you yanked his arm, pulling him down the hall a little faster. 

“Shh,” you whispered. “They’ll hear you.” 

Bradley flushed. He was fucking up already. “Sorry.” 

You looked up at him. “It’s OK,” you said softly. “I just, we have to be good. This has to go well.” You paused. “My parents are going to be here.” 

Of course he knew that. It was part of why he felt like jumping out of his skin. He couldn’t screw this up. The whole summer he had been under the microscope but tonight felt like the final test. 

The two of you were at the end of the hallway. Beyond, it spilled out into a large ballroom with a staircase along the far wall and a dance floor that has been cleared. Bradley swallowed, hard. Each table was round with a large, tall arrangement of white flowers and greenery. Everywhere he turned, fancy men and women were milling around holding stemware. 

You rubbed his arms, turning to him. 

“I love you,” you whispered, so quietly only he could hear. “Remember that.” 

How could he forget? You were the one thing holding Bradley Bradshaw together. You were the only reason he would ever consider being at something like this. You were the only possible reason that he would have to stand in front of hundreds of dressed up society folks wearing an uncomfortable tux and dancing to a slightly offbeat band. 

Bradley nodded and you grinned, skittering up the stairs and around the corner, out of sight. He let out a sigh and looked around. Everywhere he looked, there was another stranger. And even though he was dressed the part, he was convinced that they would be able to see right through him. 

“Hey.” 

Bradley turned. The pinched voice came from a blond guy a few feet away who had his sparkling blue eyes trained on Bradley. Bradley raised his eyebrows. “What’s up?” 

“Are you here with Y/N?” he asked. 

Bradley nodded. “I am.” 

Blue Eyes studied him for a moment. Then recognition flashed over his features. “Oh! You must be the Sullivan’s friend. Here for the summer.” He put an emphasis on friend that Bradley didn’t like. It was clear what he meant: charity case. “I’m Pierce. Pierce Lasseter.” 

Bradley resisted the urge to throat punch this kid. Instead, he held out one tanned hand. “Bradley Bradshaw.” 

Pierce held Bradley’s hand for a moment too long before slipping his smaller hand away. “So, how do you know the Sullivans?” 

“My father used to fly with the Admiral.” 

“And what does he do now?” 

“He’s dead.” 

Pierce stuttered. “Shit, I mean, sorry to hear that.” The silence was deafening. He looked up at the wooden staircase that had been carefully wrapped with tulle. “So you and Y/N?” 

Bradley shook his head. “Like I said, family friends. I’m just staying here for the summer.” 

“Where are you going to school in the fall?” 

Pierce said it like he wanted to bait Bradley while also brag about his plans. Bradley knew that he had to play along. “UVA. You?” 

“Yale.” He said it with a deep-rooted annoyingness that with one word unsettled Bradley’s stomach. 

“Nice. Listen, man, I should go find my table.” 

Pierce narrowed his eyes but nodded. “Nice meeting you, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley nodded, dipping his head low and making his way out toward the rest of the room. He spotted your parents almost immediately. Your father wore a tux, similar to Bradley’s, and your mother had on a pale pink ensemble that he thought would have fit someone just a little bit younger. 

A bartender passed by and took notice of him. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. 

Bradley looked up. “Yes, God, please.” 

The bartender nodded sympathetically. “I get it.” He sized up Bradley silently. “First time?” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“I’ve just been doing this a while,” he said. “Gets easier to read people.” 

“Yeah.” Bradley tapped his foot, anxiously waiting for the night to end. “Does it ever get better?” he asked. 

“No,” the bartender replied. “Those girls turn into those women,” he added. “It’s just a vicious cycle. Never stops. Unless you leave Texas.” And then he was gone, heading for the bar to make Bradley a drink. 

Bradley looked up at the empty stairs wrapped in tulle. You were leaving Texas in just a few weeks. Maybe he really could go with you. Maybe there was a chance it could all work out. 

Maybe, just maybe, his mother had been right. Maybe you were the one thing that would change what Bradley had already thought was written into his history. Perhaps you were the one thing that would change it all. 

***

The other girls were nervous. You could tell as you stood in a line at the top of the stairs. There was anxiety ricocheting off them and bouncing around the light blue wallpapered walls and white wainscoting. 

You rocked back and forth in your heels, smoothing the silk of your dress beneath your gloved fingers. 

“I love your dress.” The girl behind you smiled. “I’m Leah.” 

“Y/N.” You smiled back. “Thank you.” 

“It’s so chic,” Leah added. “My mother chose mine.” She toyed with the bulky skirt and sighed. 

“Well I like it,” you said and Leah lit up. “It’s giving Princess Diaries.” 

“Thank you.” Leah paused. “Who’s your date?” 

“Oh, um, he’s a family friend. He’s not from around here. What about you?” 

“Pierce Lasseter.” 

You stifled a groan. This poor girl. 

But she seemed to sense your shift in attitude because she added, “I know. But he’s a family friend, too. And I waited too long, all the good ones were snapped up.” 

“I get that.” 

“Your date. What’s he like?” 

How could you distill Bradley in a few words? A sentence? A speech? How could you take someone who had managed, in a manner of months, to mean everything and reduce him down to a series of nouns and adjectives? 

He was everything you thought would never come along. He was nothing you ever expected. He was quiet and shy and introspective and hurt. He was sparkling and intelligent and emotional and caring. 

And above all, he loved you. 

You were lost in thought. Leah smirked. “That good, huh?” 

Your lips quirked up in a smile. “He’s the best person I know.” 

“You’re lucky,” she murmured. “Pierce smells like gas station food.” 

You stifled a laugh as the woman at the front of the group started to bark instructions. Below, you could hear the music beginning to swell, filling the room. 

Your heart was racing in your chest but you weren’t sure why. 

Downstairs, in the main ballroom, Bradley sank into his seat as the lights dimmed and a spotlight appeared on the stairs. 

“Bradley.” Your mother’s whisper was tense. 

He whipped around. 

“You have to gather there,” she practically spat, pointing one jewel-laden finger toward a gaggle of other guys in tuxes, including Pierce. “And escort Y/N after she makes her debut down the stairs and does the dip.” 

“What’s the dip?” he asked again. 

She shook her head. “Go!” 

Bradley scurried around the edge of the darkened room, toward the hoard of other escorts. “Debutante?” A woman with a pinched face and a beak-like nose eyed him suspiciously. 

“Y/N Sullivan,” he said. 

She nodded, grabbing his arm and dragging him to second to last place in line. “Stand here. She’s ninth.” 

Bradley wasn’t sure why but his heart was in his throat. The room dimmed even darker than it had and the music softened. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am very excited to be with you tonight at the centennial anniversary of our beloved Artillery Ball. This year’s debs are an esteemed group of young women. So without further ado, let’s welcome our debs!” 

The lights swung to the top of the stairs and the first girl appeared at the top, all big blonde hair, wide eyes, a puffy dress that looked ready to swallow her whole. She floated down the stairs, fingertips tight on the bannister. Bradley had a fleeting moment where he was afraid this girl would tumble down the stairs in her literal cupcake of a dress but she made it all the way to the base platform. 

He thought that was it. But then she curved around the base of the stairs, stepping gently off the platform and out onto the main dance floor. Bradley watched with rapt attention as the girl began to stretch her hands out long on either side of her body, hinging at the waist, sinking so low she came almost into a crouching position only a few inches off of the floor, her head bowing down toward the shiny ground. It seemed an improbability that she hadn’t toppled over. 

She righted herself gently and smiled, and the crowd erupted in clapping as her escort stepped into the spotlight, collecting her in the light and walking her over to an edge of the dance floor. 

“And that,” the guy behind him whispered, “is the fucking dip.” 

The other guys nodded in agreement. Bradley watched with fascination as the other girls followed in the same footsteps, floating down the stairs, curving around to the middle of the stage to do the dip before being met by their escort. 

Finally, the guy in front of Bradley stepped forward into the spotlight. Bradley inched forward, his eyes trained at the top of the stairs, heart threatening to burst out of his chest. 

And then you appeared next to the wooden banister. Even though there was music, Bradley couldn’t hear a thing. It was simply a dull buzzing in his ears as he watched you step forward, one slender hand on the banister, white glove trailing over the wood as you reached out your first foot, making your way onto the staircase. 

You gazed out into the audience before turning and finding Bradley on the sidelines. Your smile grew and your eyes were locked on his as you made our way down the stairs. The other girls had floated. Or so he thought. But you were light as air. 

It was just the two of you. It didn’t matter how crowded the room was or how hot the lights were or the fact that Bradley truly believed his bow tie was on a murder mission for his jugular. The only thing that mattered in that moment were your eyes on Bradley’s, the soft smile dancing over his lips, the way that even from ten feet away you could read his mind. 

Finally, your feet hit the hard platform at the bottom of the stairs and you tore your eyes from Bradley. In the crowd, you spotted your parents. The lights circling the stage were bright, almost blinding, and you made your way out into the middle and sucked in a deep breath. 

Carefully, under the silky a-line of your dress, you crossed one leg over the other, thrusting your arms out to the side for balance, sinking down low until one knee hit the floor, the other stacking over it softly as you bowed your head. When you pulled your face up, you caught your father’s eye. He grinned, hands clapping furiously. You smiled, pulling yourself upright. Bradley was right there to take your arm, helping you to stand, and you turned to him with a grin. He led you silently to the edge of the stage, his eyes never leaving yours, your fingertips warm on his arm. 

As soon as the two of you were shrouded once again in darkness, the final deb making her way down the stairs, Bradley whispered into your ear. “That was insane.” 

You giggled. “I know.” 

A few couples down, Pierce glared at the two of you as Leah watched the final couple with rapt attention. 

“Here we go,” you murmured as the couples filed back onto the stage, hand in hand. 

You and Bradley glided around the dance floor. Apparently two weeks of practice in the tower room had been sufficient because before you knew it, the song was over. 

Bradley’s eyes never left yours. Not as you swayed in his arms, not when you drifted apart, only to quickly come back together like magnets clawing their way back no matter what. He only had eyes for you. 

Pierce watched with heated annoyance. 

He watched as you and Bradley laughed together, heading back to your table. He watched as the two of you spent the evening in close conversation, leaning close. He couldn’t see your hand on Bradley’s thigh beneath the table, but he had an idea. 

He watched you, and he drank. He went straight for the bar, ordering rum and cokes and gin and tonics and in the end straight glasses of bourbon until his eyes blurred. Leah swatted his arm as he nearly tipped over in his seat. “Pierce! Jesus. Are you drunk?” 

“Shut up and eat your cake,” he slurred, digging a spoon into the vanilla sheet cake that had just been served. 

Later, once the plates had been cleared and coffee had been served, couples and groups filed back onto the dance floor. You held out a hand and Bradley accepted it with a grimace, a small smile peeking out as you led him toward the dance floor. His hand on your waist was warm and it grounded you. You stepped closer, snaking one hand up onto his neck. “Thanks for coming,” you whispered. 

Bradley softened. “I’d do anything for you.”

Pierce spun Leah in circles, never taking his eyes off of you and Bradley. “Ow!” she complained as he whipped her once again, his eyes settling on the two of you. “Pierce, what’s going on?” 

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, dropping her waist and walking away. Leah crossed her arms over her chest and watched as Pierce moved steadily toward you, putting one hand on Bradley’s shoulder until the two of you turned in confusion. “Can I step in?” he slurred. 

Bradley’s eyes darkened. You took in Pierce’s intoxicated state. You knew him well enough – he was volatile, in the worst kinds of ways. You nodded, eyes trained on Bradley. “Of course.” 

He reluctantly dropped your waist and Pierce stepped in, clammy hands clumsily finding your waist, his breath hot on your ear as he tugged you in close. “So are you fucking him?” 

You leaned back, aghast, face pale. “What? No, of course not.” 

“I see the way you two look at each other,” he hissed but it came out louder than expected. A few couples around you turned. You looked over at Bradley who had started dancing with Leah, but whose eyes remained narrowed in your direction. “His fucking hands all over you.” 

“Your hands are all over me,” you spat back quietly, “and we’re not fucking.” 

“Yeah, why is that, Y/N?” he asked. “Because you’re too busy falling in love with the fucking help?” 

“He’s not the help,” you hissed. “You’re drunk. Let’s get you some water.” 

Pierce’s hands tightened on your waist. “Never heard you deny it, Y/N,” he whispered and his voice was sour, menacing. You looked up in fear. 

“You need to stop,” you whispered. “Go back to dancing with Leah. She’s nice.” 

“She’s not you. No one is you.” His fingers were digging through the silk of your dress into your waist. You thought you might bruise. His eyes were locked on yours, mouth ajar, practically foaming. “You’re such a tease, Y/N,” he muttered. “You want me, too. You can admit it. You’re just using him to make me jealous, right?” 

“Let me go,” you begged, trying to step backward but Pierce’s grip tightened and you rocked side to side in your heels, trying to find your balance as he pulled you nearer. 

“Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” he whispered into your ear. You closed your eyes, willing it all to end. You couldn’t make a scene. Even though all you wanted to do was shove him away. 

“Pierce, please.” 

“Let go of her.” 

Your eyes snapped open. Bradley had split from Leah and stood only a foot away, his presence hulking compared to Pierce. 

“I said, let go.” 

People were starting to stare. Pierce looked up and laughed. “Fuck off, Bradshaw. It’s one dance. Besides.” He looked between the two of you. “You’re just friends, right? Not like I’m dancing with your girlfriend.” 

Bradley’s hands balled into fists at his side. You begged him with your eyes. Please. 

And then Pierce laughed. His hand dipped low, grazing the top of your ass. “Missing out, though,” he whispered. “Bet she’s tight.” 

Bradley took a step forward, his face only inches from Pierce. You watched terror seize the smaller man for a second. “Hands off of her,” Bradley whispered menacingly. 

Pierce grinned but it was manic. Wild. “Make me.” 

The air felt frozen. You hadn’t even realized how much of a fuss it was all making, when your entire intention was to keep things low key, not to draw attention. Your mother was going to be furious. She was going to bite your head off. 

You tried to push yourself out of Pierce’s grip but he was strong. Panic started to rise in your throat. 

“Pierce,” Leah pleaded. “Let her go. She obviously doesn’t want to be with you.” 

You felt hot. Like you were upside down on a jungle gym and all the blood had rushed to your head. 

“Pierce,” you whispered, “please. Let’s go outside and talk.” 

“I’ve wanted you for two years,” he said, “and now this guy comes along and you don’t care about anyone else. What does he have that I don’t have? Not money, obviously.” 

“You’re confused,” you whispered. “Please, let’s get a drink and talk.” 

He shook his head. “Not until you tell me why you’d want some fucking kid from the streets over me.” 

You looked at Bradley. Pleading. He stepped closer and put one hand on Pierce’s shoulder. “Let her go, man.” 

Pierce whipped around so quickly you almost didn’t see. His hand shot out to brush Bradley off of him and in the process he clipped your cheek, sending you flying to the left. You grunted, stumbling to the ground, a chorus of gasps filling the dance floor. 

As Pierce stood in horror above you, Leah falling to your side instantly, Bradley grabbed him by his lapels. “You’re going to pay for that.” 

Tag list (or turn on notifications for my library page @ereardon):

@double-j @topguncultleader @hangmandruigandmav @blue-aconite @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @seresinhangmanjake @babyminghao @crthurston @shanimallina87

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @wkndwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @xoxabs88xox @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @teacupsandtopgun

@rosewritesitout @atarmychick007 @khaylin27 @wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @teacupsandtopgun @sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46 @louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation @fudge13 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @abaker74 @evans-dejong

@eli2447 @ducks118 @cherrycola27 @leigh70 @hotellnights

@babyminghao @taytaylala12 @bradshawseresinbabe @theweekndhistorybook @mandylove1000

[pluckyredhead]

i just went on a deep dive through your ao3 acc after getting into damian/jon exactly 5 hours ago. and oh my god. firstly, your writing is fucking glorious—particularly, “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?”. christ that fic was a TRIP. second— TWO THOUSAND TWELVE?? YOU’VE BEEN ON THE ARCHIVE SINCE 2012???? and then of course i was like, surely op isn’t still active on anything. but no. ur last tumblr post: TODAY. i’m just reeling how is this possible.?? 144 fics??? TWELVE YEARS??? THE SAME FANDOM(S) FOR TWELVE YEARS??? you deserve monetary compensation.

ps. annie pfp is fire.

Thank you so much!

Lol I've been posting fic on the internet since 2001 and I've been in DC fandom since 2002-ish. I am very loyal (and old)!