#this fuckin thing would be my debut

[lady-grace-pens]

Okay I may or may not be gathering ideas for a rewrite of htkag already

[atomicsuperrobot]

Man having read the first chapter of Encore now that it's translated and looking back at the title page of the last chapter I stopped at at Yet Another Failed Start At A Reread Of The Original (it was chapter four this time; p sure I made it farther last time), the difference is pretty startling. Everything looked so jank back then compared to now LMAO

I do wholeheartedly love the improvement tbh. ig it was only natural after 15+ years of drawing the guy.

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[ghost-bxrd]

okay so this is an idea I’ve seen brought up maybe once before, but maybe Jason (before the Bats find out who he is) accidentally lets something slip that makes them realize that he’s literally, like, a child (seventeen, sixteen, I’m not sure how old he is at that point exactly, but either works)

and Bruce “adoption addiction” Wayne promptly looks at this obviously traumatized teenager and decides that he should adopt Red Hood.

I just think Jason would be so confused (maybe a little pissed too)

I’ve touched on that a little bit in What you’re longing for (you claim to abhor)!

I think this trope is wayyy underrated. Like, Jason is still so, so young. Basically a child. Even if he died at sixteen and then spent two years with the league (even if we’re counting the time he spent dead as aging). He’s barely even legal when he returns to Gotham. Or if we’re being generous let’s say he’s nineteen.

Doesn’t matter, he’s barely out of his teens (maybe he’s still IN his teens if you bend the timeline of your fic a little) and he’s experienced horrors that would have most people become utterly unable to function. But Jason? That boy takes his trauma and channels it into anger. Which, not exactly healthy, but well.

Anyway, getting off topic:

YES. Jason is still basically a kid when he debuts as the Red Hood, and you know what else he is? A good boy who’s not gonna touch any alcohol until he’s officially 21.

“But why would he do that? He grew up in Crime Alley! Ain’t nobody got time for age limitations!”

Hear me out! Let’s assume he grew up in a household where his father, Willis Todd, drank quite a lot on the regular in addition to his mom’s addiction. Jason experienced the aftermath of this (perhaps domestic violence?) every time his dad returned from a job/jail and he grew to loathe any and all substances, including alcohol. Knowing Jason and his convictions it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume he’d never touch a single drop of alcohol at all.

So that’s one way he could slip up while taking to his goons (and having the bats overhear) or even straight up talking to one of them where maybe Dick banters a bit and goes “Hey, perhaps you should chill out a bit. Have a drink maybe” and Jason just instinctively goes “Fuck you Dickwing, I’m seventeen/eighteen/nineteen! I’m not allowed to drink!”

And Dick just— bluescreens. And immediately goes to tell Bruce, obviously.

OR

The Bats assume Jason is this old guy (Bruce’s or Drathstroke’s age maybe) and consequently they keep alluding to things that happened way before Jason was ever even born and at first he’s so? Confused??? But eventually it just gets really annoying and eventually he just— snaps.

“How the fuck would I know which Nokia gen hit the market that year? I was born in fuckin’ XXXX, I’m an iPhone kid!”

“Stop referencing the Cold War dipshit, I’m fucking seventeen! I’m glad I remember my own damn birthday!”

“I don’t know, I was like— two back then.”

Bruce, obviously, would take .1 seconds to realize:

“Omg. That’s- that’s a whole child. That’s a whole damn TRAUMATIZED child, killing people and sawing off heads. Omg someone must have hurt him so bad. Don’t worry tho, son, Batman’s got you. You won’t have to hurt anybody ever again. We’re here for you. Would you like the room next to Tim’s or Dick’s?”

Meanwhile Jason: “what the fuck”

[steddieas-shegoes]

wrong date

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'wrong date'

rated t | 890 words | cw: mild language | tags: famous corroded coffin, jeff's dad finally accepts he has a rockstar son

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

It was supposed to be a special show, not even part of the regular tour. A stop in Indianapolis in a small venue, only 250 tickets sold, a shortened set with a new song list just for this crowd. They'd have merch available specific to this show.

It was a bit of an anniversary show, marking the ten year anniversary of their first time playing in Indy, which is the show that led them to signing their first deal.

It wasn't even a real tour date.

But when their merch arrived for it, they went into panic mode.

"How did they mess up the back?" Jeff was yelling through the phone on the bus, something he never did. "We were clear that this would have the art submitted with the date and location of this one show. It can't have the same back as our tour shirt!"

Frankie and Eddie watched Jeff from the couch as Gareth sat on the counter by the fridge. Normally, Jeff was incredibly calm when faced with a problem, especially one that could definitely be fixed. This could be fixed, though it would be cutting it extremely close to the show date.

"No. Fix it. Get them overnighted. I don't care if it costs you more money. Not having the merch we told fans we would is gonna cost a lot more." Jeff hung up, immediately banging his head against the cabinet in front of him. "It's so simple. They fuck up the simplest thing."

"You good?" Gareth dares to ask while Jeff is having a breakdown.

"How many times do I have to fix shit they fuck up? Why do they even get to be in charge of things if they can't handle it?" Jeff continues, ignoring Gareth's question. "We need a better manager."

"You mean like the last guy we had?" Frankie snorted. "Maybe we could call him in prison and ask him for help while he serves time for tax evasion and embezzlement."

"At least he got us the right fucking shirts!" Jeff argued, but quickly deflated. "I just want this to be perfect."

Gareth made eye contact with Eddie and Frankie before hopping off the counter and standing in front of Jeff. He placed a comforting hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"This wouldn't normally bother you this much. What's goin' on?" He asked.

"My dad's gonna be there."

It all made sense now.

Jeff's relationship with his dad had been...rocky. Not always. In fact, as a child, he was incredibly close to him, and they spend countless hours playing together, taking fishing trips, going to concerts.

But when Jeff started taking music more seriously than school, planning for a future on stage instead of in a college dorm, his dad had a lot of things to say, and none of them were positive. It broke Jeff's heart to lose his support, but it got easier to deal with the more successful they became.

When their recent album debuted at number one, Jeff's dad reached out to let him know he was proud of him. He didn't apologize, or even admit he was wrong, but he was trying a little. It was enough for Jeff from a distance.

But apparently it wouldn't be at a distance anymore.

"He's your VIP ticket?" Eddie asked.

Jeff nodded. "Him and my mom. They heard about it and insisted on coming to see what all the fuss is about."

"Who said there's fuss?" Eddie joked. "No fuss here. Just a lot of people who wanna sleep with us or be us."

"Yeah, I guess they wanted to get the experience without going to a regular show."

"We'll have the best show ever, then. Gotta show them how fuckin' cool you are, right?" Frankie said as he pulled Jeff into a hug.

****

Jeff's parents were the first ones backstage after the show, somehow beating Gareth's parents, Wayne, and Frankie's mom by minutes.

He gave his mom a hug, but hesitated before holding a hand out towards his dad.

Everyone watched as his dad looked down at it, then back up at Jeff.

Jeff dropped his hand, and only his closest friends in the world could see the disappointment on his face.

But his dad's arms wrapped around his shoulders, and the entire room breathed a sigh of relief.

"Proud of you, son. I'm glad you didn't listen to me."

"Really?" Jeff asked against his shoulder, voice wet and rough like he was holding back a sob.

"You're a true rock star. Can't say I ever thought it was possible, but seeing you up there, I know that's where you were meant to be."

When Jeff pulled away, he noticed both of his parents were wearing the shirts that had only arrived at the venue the day before.

Everything was correct this time.

When Jeff's dad turned around to say hi to Frankie's mom, Jeff looked at the date on the back.

"You're fuckin' kidding me," he groaned.

"What?" Eddie asked, watching the door for Wayne.

"They got the date wrong!"

Eddie laughed. "I guess our encore technically played on June 20th, so that's gotta be at least a little right."

"We have to fire our manager," Jeff shook his head. "Today. I'll hire someone off the street. Only qualification is knowing what a calendar looks like."

[michibap]

omg your schlatt x hockey girlfriend has me blushing and kicking my feet It did make me think of one thing though. reader definitely plays xbox or ps4 and they probably have one in their dorm so just imagine laye night gaming sessions with schlatt as a reward after finals or midterms I know it was your first post but I loved it and can't wait for more

<3

you are so right, rot dates are key to a healthy relationship

-im thinking its the last night on campus before both of u move home for winter break

-everyone else has already gone home, so you and schlatt move the game console from his room out into the common room, and connect it to the larger tv out there

-trying to play minecraft on the shitty xbox 360 he hadn't packed bc he only really uses it at school, having a better setup at home

-you can literally hear it fighting for its life, struggling to keep up with all of the updates the game's had since the console had it's debut

-basically, it's scuffed

-but it's got a certain charm to it, both of you totally locked in on ur gameplay despite the lagging

-you're manspreading on the beloved, crusty couch in the common room, and schlatt is sat between your legs on the floor, comfortably reclined, using your thighs as armrests as he plays

-you swat at him whenever he suddenly surgess forward to get his face closer to the screen, hissing as he leans on his elbows and they dig into the meat of ur thigh, muscles still tender after a recent tournament

-he's trying to mine and actually play, but you keep chasing him and killing him as soon as he spawns

-he manages to escape you for long enough to make significant progress, gathering supplies as you fuck around, going into caves to try to kill monsters (even though you just keep on getting killed bc you haven't bothered making a sword), occasionally picking flowers and demanding he tell you whether you can train any animals you come across or not

-hears you aww and try to pet a bee but accidentally end up hitting it, screaming and running away as the hive chases you and he just laughs

-but by some sick twist of fate, you somehow survive long enough to find him deep in a cave he was busy mining diamonds in

-notices you go suspiciously quiet and looks down at your part of the split screen, seeing you try to sneak up on his avatar

"Don't you fuckin dare..."

-you only laugh, rushing forward, spamming the punch button, determined to win, despite your odds being against you, with him having a full set of iron tools and armor

-and you with nothing but your fists and a dream

-to even out the playing ground, you shift your hips, quickly moving to lock your thighs around his head, effectively blinding him

-frantically jamming the buttons on your remote to land as many hits as you can while he's incapacitated (none of which do any real damage)

-yelping and releasing him when he turns his head and nips the inside of your thigh

-but before he has the chance to make a recovery, you manage to punch him into a lava pit

-and he watches hopelessly as his character slowly dies in the lava, unable to escape because you're spamming the punch button, keeping him from climbing out

-and instead of stealing his supplies like he thought you would, you waste your last half heart, jumping into the lava after him

-throwing all of his hard work out the goddamn window

-you sit back with a satisfied hum at the sight of the twin 'YOU DIED" screens on the tv

-and he turns around to give you an unimpressed look that you return with a smug grin

-and after a moment of peace he lunges towards, attempting to grab your remote

-you laugh and pull back, struggling

-a scuffle ensues

-you trying to push at his chest with one hand and kicking your feet, other hand trying to hold the remote as far as you can

-he has the upperhand, knowing that you lose most of your motor function when you're giggling this hard

-your foot kicks out again, but this time he manages to grab your ankle and pull you to the floor with him with a small thud

-you startle at the sudden change of elevation, and he uses the chance to drag you closer and hover over you, snatching the remote from your hand before leaning backwards to place it on a nearby side table before turning his attention back to you

-you're a little breathless, leaning back against the frame of the sofa nd looking up at him thru ur stupidly thick lashes, a red glow washing over u from the lava still displayed on screen

-but the sound of both of your characters taking damage over and over again is quickly forgotten when he grabs underneath your thighs and pulls you into his lap

-and he jus has to take a moment to admire you,

-hair unkempt and still wearing the same shirt he gave you yesterday, and it's slipping off your (bruised) shoulder, and you're smiling all pretty down at him and running a hand over his (admittedly) outgrown facial hair

-he lets out a dreamy sigh and leans up, pressing his lips to your own in a gentle kiss

-and smiles into it when he feels one of your arms slither around his shoulders, while your other hand moves to tangle itself in the hair at the base of his skull

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

ty for the request, i hope you enjoyed 🫡

feel free to leave more

[pedge-stuff]

HC: like if u are dating Pedro he is protective af in public. like the man is so sweet and wholesome but i like to think that if you ever get “harassed” in public or someone tried to record you,bother you, say he can do better than you to you or him he will like get sooo mad. He would barely be able to keep it together idk and like say things that would be unimaginable for normal pedro. (idk like just imagining him yelling or being like pissy and talking back to paparazzi or smothing is just whhwiwjwbwjwowiw to me) but its like sweet af, because it shows how much he cares about you. and that u are everything to him and whateverrrrr 🥺

idea ig idk

hm i will be back !!!! 😌 with more hc!! because this man had taken over me heh 😞

-thankful anon again as always still greatful for marked universe, m/gn content and the new fluffy fic that included oscar and the edibles ooohhhh so cute i melted !!!!!

I love where your head is at. Veered left with this one, hope it went vaguely where you were hoping. Thank you for the rec! :) Come back anytime. piss yellow range rover (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked.” apparently no one comments on this app anymore but they are my favorite so please drop a line!!

tw: gay slur in the middle. trans character, trans writer.

summary: baby's first homophobia

————————————————————————

You’re surprised it took so long, really. 

A full month after Pedro’s Tonight Show interview goes viral. After his SNL debut, the following week he spends holed up recovering, his begrudging return to LA for Mando press, and your reunion in the LAX Arrivals driveway two weeks later. Four full weeks— long enough that it no longer gripped teeth into the front of your mind. 

Long enough that your guard was down. 

Until, of course, some asshole decided he needed to be tastefully homophobic before his morning cup of coffee. 

You were midway through your LA morning routine: parting with Pedro in the parking lot of the strip mall that housed his personal trainer, and timing your long run around the surrounding area with the duration of his session, such that you were back to pick up a 2-drink mobile order at Starbucks by the time he emerged.

Your very normal, palatable oat latte was balanced atop his stomach-turning 6 black espresso shots, as you watched Pedro round the corner through the window. 

Sweat is beading at his temple, but he is all smiles as he trades you a kiss for his plastic cup.

It still feels like a novelty. Neither of you are usually PDA people, but the sudden lack of secrecy has brought on a second wave of the honeymoon phase. You can just do things like this, now— kiss in Starbucks or hold hands at restaurants or be seen grocery shopping together. You don’t have to take separate Ubers to the same place on date nights. 

The sun is shining, your iced latte was made right, your workout is over. There is a whole day in front of you, and a handsome man beside you. A man who holds the Starbucks door for both you and the woman pushing a stroller inside— but only reaches for your hand after. 

Things are actually really, really good. 

Until you step off the curb: 

“That is not the way. Fuckin’ fags.” 

Crazy how quickly some guy sipping a green goddamn smoothie can ruin your peace. Two guys, actually, snickering to each other as they unlock their car. 

Beside you, Pedro goes incredibly still. He drops your hand. 

“What did you just say?” 

His friend, chewing on his straw, grins as your stomach turns. A shit-eating grin. “At least it’s kinda straight, right? Dude’s got a pussy.” 

They erupt into laughter.  

White noise buzzes in your ear; your cheeks flush. “Come on.” 

You break away, towards the car, but his feet are rooted to the ground. “Pedro. Come on.” 

They are still laughing as they duck behind the tinted windows of a piss yellow Land Rover. Laughing as they close the door. 

Laughing as five and a half shots of espresso splatter across their black-tinted windshield, streaking in brown rivulets down the yellow hood. 

Pedro turns, finally, and stalks quickly across the lot. You have to jog to keep up. Behind you, the assholes are yelling profanities, but you don’t hear a car door open. Cowards. 

The moment he settles into the drivers seat, Pedro pounds a fist on the dashboard. Hard. His fingers curl into a tight grip around the steering wheel, which he clutches like a lifeline as he draws in a handful of ragged breaths. 

You can only watch from the passenger seat. Try and ignore the fact that he won’t look at you as he starts the engine and peels out of the lot. 

The drive to the Hills is dead silent. Even the radio can read the room. 

Silence acts as a breeding ground for your racing thoughts, which multiply like hatching mosquitos. Your ears are still ringing. Buzzing. 

It’s your fault— this is a fact. This was his biggest fear, wasn’t it? The backlash? This didn’t happen before he came out. (Before you forced him to come out, though he swears that wasn’t the case. You’d just finally, maybe begun to believe it, after a month. Or not.)

This happened to you, sure. Less so in New York, or LA. It’s almost funny, that you apparently stumbled across two of the only straight people in LA this morning.  Shitty people live everywhere. 

You’d both disabled the comments section of your instagram for a few days, but by and large, the feedback had been overwhelmingly positive. Until today. It’s different hearing it face-to-face. 

Pedro is halfway into the house before you realize you’re home. Slowly unbuckling, you debate leaving the iced latte in the cupholder; the thought of it turns your stomach. 

As you greet the dogs by the door, a distracted ‘hello,’ you watch him slip out to the condo balcony. He is clutching a pack of Spirits in a clenched fist. 

What are you supposed to do? There is nothing you can do, besides apologize. You pace between the kitchen and living room, chewing on your cuticles, eyes closed. The sweat from your run has now cooled uncomfortably on your skin. An apology won’t be enough, but you don’t have a solution. You can’t take it back. He can’t come un-out. 

The balcony door slides open, and Pedro is still silent as he shuffles to the kitchen. He pours a glass of water— out of habit, you assume. Though you never mind, he always washes the taste of tobacco away, after he smokes. Refuses to kiss you until after he’s cleansed his mouth, lest he leave any trace of stale smoke on your lips. 

Before you can really register, he has crossed into the living room, and pressed his lips to your own. 

He kisses you softly, and then moves to your forehead, eyebrow, temple, along your jaw. Doesn’t go as far as your neck, which he knows you are sensitive to— these kisses are not foreplay. They’re too light, too quiet. Your eyes flutter closed. 

Pedro’s chin hooks over the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders. Your cheek presses against the base of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, before weakly clearing his throat.  “I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“Why are you sorry?” You pick your head up. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry? You… handled that so well, querido. I lost my shit. I have never gotten physical like that before, I don’t know what came over me. I’m not violent. They were just… they can’t say that. It’s not right.” 

It is your turn to reach up, place a kiss on the angle of his jaw. “You are not violent. You did not lose your shit.” 

“It was a perfectly good coffee,” he pouts. 

“We can get another,” you placate, “but I can’t get another you. People are always gonna say shit. It’s kinda nice to have something so good, it makes people mad.” 

Pedro chuckles, weakly. “Yeah. I guess.” 

“If it’s easier to lay off for a bit, though—“ 

“Lay off?” His brow furrows. 

You rub a hand up and down his arm, lightly. “The PDA, doing public stuff, I dunno. I don’t want you to—“ 

“Are you joking?” You are given a look of sheer disbelief. “Jesus, no. Isn’t that what they want? You want them to win?” 

“It’s not a competition, Pedge. I want you to be safe, and comfortable.” 

“Fuck that!” His exclamation is loud enough to startle Edgar, whose collar jingles as he jumps grumpily off the couch. “I love you. We went through too much shit, to not be able to hold your hand outside a fucking Starbucks.” 

Pedro’s hair is a little tousled, cheeks a little flushed. He’s maybe never looked more attractive to you. 

“Okay?” 

You exhale. “Of course.” 

There is a pause, as the morning settles back around you. The sun is still shining, your workouts are still behind you. Plenty of time in the day to walk to a different Starbucks, for another round of drinks. Maybe you’ll hold hands on the way there. You can, if you want to. 

Pedro tugs on the collar of his white t-shirt. He grimaces. “Can we shower, though? I think I smell like the ocean.” 

You don’t mind. 

[legokingfisher]

Here to collect Riyu headcanons and maybe baby hippo videos

Hello hiii Riyu hcs be upon ye

He’s overly conscious of his surroundings (since he’s pretty big) to the point it affects his relationships with people. If that makes any goddamn sense. Like. He knows his size and strength have the potential to be physically dangerous on complete accident, so the fact he’s thinking about that 24/7 permeates deep into his brain and he ends up wondering if he’s being annoying or rude or attention-hogging during social interactions too. 90% of the time, he’s not— he’s an absolute sweetheart and is considerate as hell. But it causes him to put the wants and needs of others above himself all the time, unfortunately. It also makes him pretty hesitant to ask for help. (“Am I bothering them? Is this a bad time? Shouldn’t I already know this?”) So instead his main coping mechanism is escapism <- just like me for real

He’s been trying to learn to speak Common (…english??) physically/out loud, bc speaking it telepathically is Really Hard and bc he spends so much time amongst Common-speakers who don’t know Dragon (these people being… pretty much anyone outside the monastery) and would like to go out and about without having to always bring someone to translate or having to like… play fuckin charades just to order takeout or w/e.

Out of the other dragons at the monastery, he is most close with Heatwave since they happen to spend so much time together (Heatwave is usually around Wyldfyre, and Riyu/Wyldfyre hangout a lot; Heatwave also basks on the roof, which is something Riyu enjoys too). He sees Heatwave as a sort of older brother or uncle yk?

Aside from Lloyd’s ninja training, Riyu also gets combat training from Zanth, since in some ways it’s easier to learn that from someone who is Also huge and quadrupedal. Plus, Zanth is a pretty seasoned fighter (she traveled/adventured for a long ass time in my mind) so there’s not always overlap between what Zanth and Lloyd can teach him

He loves physical affection!!! He loves it when the others lean on him, sleep near/with him, hug him, etc. Feels nice plus it reassures him that he’s not some Big And Scary Thing to non-dragons. He certainly doesn’t mind when the others ride on his back— they’re pretty light to him.

Once he gets the hang of spinjitsu, his tornado is a bright blue with streaks of dark blue as well as gold

Once he gets the hang of Rising Dragon, it makes his eyes and wings glow the same colors as his spinjitsu, as opposed to him having some larger spectral dragon behind him like the other ninja do when they use Rising Dragon

He is definitely not a picky eater and doesn’t have any sensitivities/texture/smell issues either— bro was literally eating garbage in Cinder’s debut episode in s2p1 he literally doesn’t care

His favorite color is dark green bc it’s the color of his matriarch’s scales :)) he’s also pretty fond of orange, pink, and red bc of Arin, Sora, and Wyldfyre

He has a one-of-a-kind pair of headphones that work with his crazy ass head shape that Sora custom-built for him, and he loves just flying around the mountains near the monastery whilst listening to music

Yes this means he has a tablet to play said music off of. Yes Sora has also made alterations to it so it’s easier for him to use it (i would say phone but it would be way too small for him to comfortably use)

And baby hippo video for u as requested i fucking love that thing:

[vee-crytraps]

Good Luck, Babe! | Ch 1-2 | Ice Cream for Breakfast

{Trigger Warning/Themes Masterlist} This is split into a billion parts because it's long as hell! Read on Ao3 to avoid the headache!

You might not have the freaky little memory that your family of detectives boasted, but you would be out of your mind if you ever let yourself forget that Bruce Wayne owed you one. Exactly one year ago to the day, Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian had abandoned you at Rollerworld, a frown fixed onto your face as you had watched them all peel off in the name of Bat-Family business. The threat hadn’t even ended up being serious. Serious for Gotham, anyway. At the time, you had grateful to have corralled them together- at a roller rink of all places, for the twenty or so minutes that you had them- but you remembered finding it tough to remain in high spirits for the rest of the night. You hadn’t even seen them until the next morning, when Bruce had promised you a day of anything you wanted to make up for the embarrassment of having to carry home the remnants of a too-big-cake on your lap, enduring the stares and snickers of the other people on the train.

You reveled in the way Bruce’s frown deepened as he watched you sitting triumphantly at the head of the table. He fixes you with one of his patented bat-glares before finally giving in. “Fine,” he sighs, defeated. “Ice cream for breakfast.” “From the look on your face, you’d think you’d sentenced him to the electric chair,” Dick laughed, plopping down in his usual seat. He spun a spoon between his fingers like a drummer about to let loose. “C’mon, Bruce. Live a little!” “It won’t be so bad, I was kind enough to make sure to get everyone’s favorites. Even Damian’s god awful mint chocolate chip stuff,” “Mint chocolate chip is the most delicious flavor in the world,” Damian warns, and beside him Tim prays you two won’t get into a whole thing about it. “It’s a perfectly fine treat,” “It’s an abomination is what it is.” Tim laughs. You toss him a set of plastic Mardi-gras beads, which he snatches mid air with his impressive reflexes. “Did you give me these because I agreed with you?” He questioned aloud. “I see you’re being extra insufferable about today, birthday girl.” Jason hums, pulling up his own chair. You elect to ignore him, gesturing for Bruce to join you at your right side. “I even got some low cal, non-dairy vanilla for you. Matcha for Dick, Coffee for Tim, and for Jason-“ “Rocky fuckin’ Road.” Jason finishes with glee, cracking open the pint in front of him. “I’m sold. All hail the birthday princess.” He catches his beads and dons them with pride. “I expect everyone to eat at least one bowl. You are supposed to be making it up to me for ditching my party last year.” You reminded. The whole table erupts into groans. “Oh for the love of- how is it our fault that Scarecrow decided to have his grand re-debut like twenty minutes into your party?” Dick whines, digging into a spoon of matcha flavor. “To be fair, we would have back pretty quickly if you and Jason hadn’t gotten caught up one-upping each other,” Tim shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re all complaining, I’m the real victim here,” You joke, digging into your own ice cream. “Besides, Ace and Titus don’t seem to mind,” With your spoon, you gesture over to the pair of dogs who lap at the pet friendly ice cream seated into their bowls. Both beasts sport tiny paper party hats that had been carefully strapped to their heads. “Ace and Titus are animals, sweetheart.” Bruce cracks a small smile, pushing his ice cream around in his own. “I do not understand why you are making such a huge deal of this,” Damian interjects. “We’ve all had celebrations interrupted by villains." “It was my seventeenth birthday, Damian. The last one I would have before becoming a dumb, annoying and boring adult. No offense. Let me grieve for it, at least.” “It is wayyyy to early for this,” Jason groaned, leaning back in his chair. “And I was kind of looking forward to waffles.” The only people he’d rather be eating with less other than four superheros were probably four other superheros. You all eat together in relative peace, and as you really savor your first spoonful of birthday ice cream with all of the fixings, you can’t help but sigh with pleasure. “Oh my god,” you relax into your chair, savoring the melt of it on your tongue. “Now I know why you never let us keep this in the house. I could eat this for every meal.” “I can hear your teeth rotting from here,” Damian mutters under his breath. He can’t help but be confrontational, even if it is really good ice cream. He makes a face as Dick artfully squirts chocolate syrups into his matcha ice cream, topping it with crushed Oreos and a few gummy worms. “I have witnessed deaths more appealing,” Damian remarks, watching his eldest brother scoop the abomination into his mouth. “I’ve had deaths more appealing.” Jason snorts. “Babies! Whiny little babies, all of you.” You scold, pouting as you loaded your spoon once more.

Part 3

[cboffshore]

😈 for the ninjago ask game!

It's Nadakhan. I am at once kind of sorry and not at all sorry that he's my hands-down fave, because ZOO WEE MAMA. He's WILD.

I think the big thing is that, on EVERY level possible for a fictional character, he's a boundary breaker, which hit me so hard I haven't been able to shake it since his debut. I know you're in the middle of watching the season so I won't get too spoilery, but here are some of the things I mean:

Is literally introduced as a runaway black sheep rebel who ran away to join the circus, but it wasn't a circus, it was a steampunkish pirate crew THAT HE FOUNDED. (By forcefully fuckin with people's wishes and using his innate talents for what I ASSUME are not what those powers are for!)

Breaks the traditional "nurse a grudge, start a plan, and show up on the battlefield swinging" pattern that most other villains follow. We get to watch Nadakhan form his grudge, start his plan, and CRUMBLE. IN REAL TIME. nobody else is doing it quite like him!

Occupies a weird space on the Villain Success Scale, which you'll get to later, but is VERY unusual given the season structure at the time

MO is literally to break and ignore boundaries - other villains do that, sure, but this is the only time it's ever a trademark/starting point

crew has an ACTIVE ROLE in showing off where his development is. A lot of mooks in this show just exist to add more minifigures to sets, but we get to see a ton of Nadakhan's development THROUGH the secondary characters (in particular Clancee and Flintlocke!!!!) . Again, this isn't absent from the series as a whole, but it's the most intense of all the instances I can recall and it's the first time it's done on this scale.

I could say SO much more, truly, but I'll stop before I get spoilery. As for the redemption thing, I will say that it doesn't happen and I'm on the fence about it. Mostly I would love to know what it would take for him to WANT to change, because as you'll find out, he's a stubborn bastard. (Pro tip: read him as a twisted alternate future version of Jay to make the season scarier and WAY cooler. They're the same character in a different font, tbh.)

In conclusion:

Thanks for the ask!!

[maukiki1-but-cringefail]

i swear to fucking god im not a hater but if i see another fucking badly-made thumbnail boring neurotypical straight guy with lame monotone voice talking over buncha mfb clips video of the worst metal fight beyblade takes ive ever seen with the unfunniest jokes im gonna rearrange the DNA sequence of the closest person to me to that of a Doto greenamyeri nudibranch because i swear to god just shut the fuck up.

how the fuck do you meatheads base how much you like a character over powerscaling and win ratio. would you prefer a wild bear over your own mother because the bear is stronger than her? thats how you fuckin sound like. i gotta rant this shit out because i had enough if i hear another fucking "ryūga da goat🥶🐐" "beyblade really is that serious🤣" "This show is so acoustic😵" "did you know that moses split the sea with a be-" WE FUCKING KNOW THE WHOLE WORLD KNOWS AT THIS POINT. ALSO IF YOU DEADASS USE AUTISM AS AN INSULT LET ALONE USE THE WORD ACOUSTIC OR ARTISTIC FOR IT STAY 7 KILOMETERS AWAY FROM ME AND ALSO DONT WATCH METAL FIGHT BEYBLADE EVERYONE IS GAY AND AUTISTIC YOU KNOW WHY⁉️ which cishet neurotypical out there makin spinning tops fight with neon green or blue whateverthefuck hair half the cast looks like they been hiding in closet before their debut episode.

PRIME example of these bad takes is , because of powerscaling again the hate on masamune ? i thought people hated him because they thought he was annoying (like how i did when i first watched it when i was little) (FOUR YRS OLD) and like id get that as in he talks alot or whatever but people hate him because. fucking. "he has a low win ratio and claims to be the number one blader" BITCH THATS A 15 YR OLD. or like around that age somewhere you get the point. so what if the taco doritos colour palette guy a little confident in himself bitch you hate fun you hate sillyness. people also use him as like a tool to praise kenta? constantly i see takes like "kenta is like masamune if masamune didnt suck" or something as in they both try to rise to the top and get stronger but one of them doesnt talk shit like did you know you can praise a character without putting down the other one motherfucker. another one is "masamune isnt a legendary blader because he talks shit but cant actually back it up" Hey my brother in Allah lets play a little game. which one of the fucking legendary bladers talks big about himself. you have ten seconds. 10...9...8....KING. KING IS RIGHT THERE .

also saw someone say damian shouldve been a legendary blader⁉️⁉️mf that boy was on rearrangement stereoids the effects of that wouldve already worn off by the time of metal fury how does that even WORKK😭😭 he was probably off with 3 big fucking pet dogs to eat custard pudding or sumn idk .Ryūga dickriding has been a thing for for ever but right now for some reason people decided they didnt talk about that guy enough. theres so many videos on him guys there are other characters to talk about i can write a three billion word essay on damian but i dont think i can say anything about ryūga that hasnt been said at this point. also the people who claim hes alive BECAUSE hes alive in the manga is crazy like yall cant see those as two different universes? im not saying wether if i think hes alive or not this isnt about that dont miss the point. i wanted to make text posts about mfb for forever but i was embarrased for god knows why so i just posted my mfb fanart on my main but i cant take it anymore (eatina burger with no honey mustard) must speak this time im afraid

also sorry if this is hard to read im not good at ending sentences where i should punctuation jumpscare. powerscaling mfs will hear u say u like a character like for example tsubasa or sumn and immediately bring up ryūga like shut the fuck up this shit happened on twitter i dont even use twitter i opened the app for 000.1 seconds. you just jelaous ryūga will never serve like did mf also im not a ryūga hater anyways i reached the character limit fuck

[mlm-writer]

Dating Leeteuk as SHINee's maknae headcanons

Pairing: Leeteuk (Super Junior) x Male!SHINee Maknae!Reader (trans-friendly) Rating: General audiences Words: 1085 POV: Second Summary: On how you start dating until you finally make it public. Note: Decided on headcanon format to make it easier on me. Tags: fluff, getting together, idols, mention of SuJu & SHINee, but a bit more SHINee because they are my ult, and some mentions of homophobia

So like you’ve known SuJu since pre-debut and tbh at that age the age gap was just too big for you to get along with them really well

You got to work with them occasionally, but it took a good few years for you to really get close

Because of how well your voices work together, you got paired with Leeteuk for a collab on SM Station and that was so well received, you did a couple more of those over the years 

Really your voices melted together like nutella on hot bread (Author loves this ok it fuckin slaps) 

You did like a super nice love song together, but when you guys were singing together it did not sound anymore like you were singing about a girl, but about each other 

Both of you were not even realising how romantic your eye contact was during the live performances

The songs were so well received, you even had a temporary project with Leeteuk, when Onew was out on military service. That’s when even you two could not deny the chemistry between you two. 

You guys already acted like a couple before you made it official with each other. 

Literally you’re at his place having wine after another day of dance practice, vocal training and photoshoots and you then realise how low the lights are and how your knees are touching on his sofa and how romantic the background music is…

You look up from your glass and see the candlelight flickering in his eyes and all that comes out of your mouth is “wait, this is really romantic” 

And Leeteuk is a little embarrassed, because consciously he did not mean to put you on the spot like this, but he was old enough to realise he put way more effort into ‘just hanging out after work’ than was normal. For his fellow members you would not catch him meticulously picking a good bottle of wine or replacing the candles in the living room or dimming the lights to make the ambiance cosy. There certainly would not be playing some soft jazz in the background. 

And he has no excuse, because the realisation hits him like a train and he just asks you: “do you mind?” 

You don’t even need to ask him if he does, because you understand that look on his face like no one else. You shake your head and just scoot closer to put your head on his shoulder. 

Being idols, and men on top of that, you kept it a secret, but everyone was waiting for it. You knew about the fanfics, but you always thought they were made as a joke and you and Leeteuk were very discreet. 

SuJu defo knew about you two, but they never mentioned it aside from some good-natured teasing about how Leeteuk spent so much time with you, it seemed like you were a married couple

SHINee also knew and they teased you endlessly about all the little things Leeteuk did, in the hopes you would admit Leeteuk did those things because you were together. They just did not want to ask you directly and allow you to come out when you were ready. 

Tbh you did not even realise they knew. Both you and Leeteuk absolutely oblivious to how obvious you guys are. 

It is in the Leeteuk walking across venues tailed by security guards just to say hello to you. It is in the way you have the habit of saying “oh Leeteuk hyung would love this” about food, drinks, furniture, songs, clothes etc. 

When you guys are together you both have heart eyes while giving ‘professional’ compliments

Both your groups find it painful to watch, especially the more uhhh homophobic ones in SuJu (not gonna say who bc y’all will hate me, but if you know you know) 

Then SHINee worked on recording Identity and they are making a lot of comments about it that kind of water down to “hey if SOMEONE in SHINee would have an INTERESTING identity, we would NOT mind that” 

You’re one dense mf so Key takes you aside and has a heart-to-heart with you and a lot of alcohol

Do you remember telling him even the spicy details of your relationship? No. Did it happen? Key won’t shut up about it to you. He is not that much of a dick tho to tell the others. 

You feel really shit about your slip up and the fact that you were now hungover on date night

Leeteuk went all out with finding a remote spot up Mt. Namsan and buying all that was needed for a simple, but romantic dinner with a view of Seoul. The night lights were gorgeous, the city alive. You had gimbap and fried chicken for dinner with some small electric lanterns surrounding the picnic mat under you. Your favourite playlist played over the bluetooth speaker.

Leeteuk showed you a video that Key took while you were drunk off your ass. It was embarrassing to hear yourself proclaim how much you hated not being able to kiss him in public. 

In your words “everytime I see my Teukkie, I wanna squish his cheeks and give him wittle smoochies, but noooooo gotta keep my idol image like I care about that. Aren’t we getting old? When do I stop caring and start marrying?” 

You could die of embarrassment, but then Leeteuk took the ring out.

Next day you’re public, what the company might say be damned

God the backlash was huge, the following weeks full of angry managers, PR people and screaming ‘fans’ outside the SM building. 

You and Leeteuk laid low for a month or so, but you had a comeback to do and SHINee could not delay more. 

In the end it is the support of both SHINee and SuJu members that turn the tide for your career. 

Most idols decide not to comment on your homosexual engagement, but some idols had also been on the shipping train for years and were glad to finally see the inevitable out in the open 

The reactions were overall mixed. Some people are glad to see their ship be real, some are just homophobic. That’s life. The moment things went public, you and Leeteuk were faced with new challenges, but none of those challenges changed you. You and Leeteuk were in love before the two of you were aware of it, and now the world was aware of it, you got to show it too.

[minijenn]

Fuck it time for random assorted UF ideas I had that I think are pretty neat/interesting/fun and I never got aruond to writing:

Mindful Education would have had angst for all four of our MK; Steven still reeling from Jasper, Bismuth, Rose shattering Pink Diamond, etc. Dipper is still going through it from what Bill did to Stepper in RMD, Connie is upset cause she broke that kid's arm i guess, and Mabel is feelin hella awkward bc she would have only recently accidentally revealed how she feels about Steven to him

Tied into that ^^^ we get the lyrics of Here Comes a Though tying in nicely to how each of them are feeling: "Here comes a thought that might alarm you" (Connie), What someone said and how it harmed you (Steven), Something you did that failed to be charming (Mabel), Things that you said are suddenly swarming (Dipper).

Mindful Education would have also featured appearences from every one of the MK fusions, including Stonipbel's debut! (Ok I'm done talking about Mindful Education now I promise)

The chapter Time Tangled would have essentially been a UF take on the old GF Timestuck AU. So Steven, Dipper, and Mabel would have accidentally wound up 30 years in the past, split up, with Mabel ending up with Stan back then as he's on his way to Gravity Falls, Dipper with Ford in the midst of his peak paranoia, and Steven with Rose during her peak Immense Concern About Ford. Angst ensues.

Weirdmageddon, if I were to write it now, would have a lot going on in it. Yellow and a bunch of Homeworld Gems were gonna roll in along with Bill and hiis Henchmaniacs and it was basically gonna be chaos all around.

After wandering alone as in canon during the apocalypse, Dipper would have eventually ran into Lapis, because of course; he was gonna kind of have a fear driven breakdown bc he has no idea where the hell Mabel or Steven or anyone else is and he's terrified for their lives and Lapis would have comforted him with an original lullaby bc she's his Mom we all already know this

You better believe, after meeting Gideon and hearing about all the trouble he'd caused Dipper earlier that summer, Lapis would have T posed on that 10 year old so agressively imo

She would have also joined Dipper, Soos, and Wendy in venturing into Mabel's bubble, as would have Pearl who would have joined the group at some point; one of the original things inside of the bubble would have been a fake version of Steven who's head over heels for Mabel, finally returning her affections; Pearl would have been the one to talk Mabel down from that, with the two of them sharing solidarity over being in love with someone they knew they couldn't end up having

Some of the more secondary and minor characters would have had a chance to shine thanks to Amethyst, who gathered up a group of them (consisting of Pacifica, Robbie, Lars, Sadie, Greg, maybe a few others?) and escorted them to the safety of the bunker; there, they would have found McGucket, who's been hiding out from the shitstorm outside

In the bunker, they'd all split up, and Pacifica would have found "Dipper" (the shapeshifter) frozen in one of the cryogenic pods so of course she sets him free and "he" tricks her in a gambit to escape the bunker; Amethyst sees through its ruse and fuckin obliterates that thing all over again good for her

Steven would have been captured by Yellow's forces around the same time Ford was captured by Bill (Dipper watches this happen and is unable to stop it hahaha oh no); Garnet and Connie would have teamed up to save him and Peridot would have joined them, essentially pretending to defect back to Homeworld to slip in closer to find Steven

My original plan was for Steven to actually be poofed and meet Rose inside his Gem but now that we know that's not how it works, I would have just had Connie rescue him and all of the MK and Gems regroup at the shack I suppose

There would have been a musical chapter during Weirdmageddon ala Mr. Greg. That's right, a whole chapter of original songs written by me. Fucking suffer.

My original plan was for the Gem temple to be destroyed during Weirdmageddon, thus unleashing all of the bubbled Gems inside of it, including Bismuth and Jasper (who would have somehow wound up uncorrupted idk how)

We would have gotten a lot of fusions showing up again during the big climax battle, with Stonipbel taking center stage in a fight against Yellow Diamond (set to a dramatic dueling duet); this fight would have ened with Yellow being poofed and her forces grabbing her gem and fleeing back to Homeworld

Bill would have split Stonipbel up and nearly killed all four of them until Stan pulls the same trick he does in canon and turns the tables on that fucking triangle, "killing" him (not really cause he returns in UF2 but shhhh)

You'd best believe Amethyst would have had a fucking meltdown when she finds out Stan's memories are gone and he has no idea who she is; it would probs also strike a strong cord with Steven and Dipper, reminding them of the time when Stepper went through something pretty damn similar

I would have dedicated more time to Stan getting his memories back, mostly fluffy, sweet moments building into it

With the temple destroyed and so many corrupted Gems on the lose, Steven and the Gems made plans to leave Gravity Falls to round them all up. With the warp pad also broken, they would have all gone with Greg in his van. That's basically what they'd be doing in the span of time between UF and UF2.

The epilogue would have leaned heavily into MK fluff and bonding, the four of them promising to return to Gravity Falls next summer, I would have absolutely cried while writing it.

Along with Steven, Connie, and the Gems, Lapis and Peridot would def be at the bus stop to see Dipper and Mabel off; there would be just... so many tears all around esp between the MK god

I would have included two scenes in the epilogue, one hinting at Bill retuning in UF2 and one of Yellow reforming on her ship and coming up with her Human Biowepons Operation which would eventually lead into UF2's Stonemason arc

And that's all I got maybe I'll do these for UF2 and UFF as well idk

[adelaidedrubman]

and then there was wednesday

i went and got tagged on this day of wednes by beloveds @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano to wip, thank you my beloveds!

bitches will be like “i’ll never actually write america’s sweetheart it’s a joke au” then be like “anyways here’s 600 words of america’s sweetheart, the definitive wildfire ending.” have some jestiny attempting to make her directorial debut, warnings for drug and alcohol use and me being annoyingly meta. and jestiny publicist pov

“Sure,” the actress chimed, twirling a strand of short red hair around her finger. “I heard it in Sunday school.”  “Then perhaps you could fuckin’ explain to me, Olivia,” Jestiny said, pausing to draw a deep breath in through flared nostrils, “Why I would be turning on the water works before he cut my hair?”  Olivia furrowed her brow. “Um, because you were afraid? You had to be. You were being chased through the woods by a crazy cult leader brandishing a knife.”  Jestiny’s eyes widened. Andrea pinched the bridge of her nose in anticipation. 

“It’s not about fear, it’s about vulnerability,” Jestiny ground out, jabbing a finger of her coffee cup-clasping hand towards the actress and causing the pungent drink that was definitely not coffee to slosh loudly inside. “That is the scary part — not the knife. The hair cutting is an act of intimacy,” she said pointedly. She waved her free hand as if conducting a symphony as she continued, “It’s the culmination of a careful dance, all about the subtle struggle of who’s leading. There should be build-up to it!” She pulled out an Altoid tin and shook out a few white tablets that were definitely not breath mints to chew on. “It’s supposed to be predictable, but still devastating! It’s a tragedy!”  She glared down at Olivia. “And it’s a tale of hubris. The protagonist is arrogant before the downfall, not scared and crying.”  Henry rose begrudgingly from his director’s chair. “That’s in your memoir?” “That’s in the Bible.”  “Your memoir is like the Bible, to me,” Flynn chimed in, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping a copy of Urges from God by Jestiny Rook pulled seemingly from thin air. Andrea almost pitied him, to not foresee he’d be dumped the moment he shaved for the premiere party like all the others had.  “You want me to play it more smug, then?” Olivia asked, flipping through the pages of the script, as if the method to Jestiny’s madness would be buried somewhere amongst stage directions.  “Fuck no!” Jestiny cried. “I have to be relatable and likeable. Someone the audience wants to root for to come out on top, not see crash and burn!” She threw back her cup, gulping down the last of its contents. “I’m not smug, that doesn’t sell. I’m a plucky and bold underdog. I’m cheerful. I’m compassionate. I’m humble. I’m…” She restlessly drummed her fingers against the cardboard of her empty cup. “I’m America’s fucking sweetheart!” Jestiny paused as the words rang against the walls, eyes scanning with a familiar frantic jitter along the blank faces of the crew as she crushed the empty coffee cup in her hand.  “But, like —” she fidgeted with the ends of hair that fell just above her collarbones. “In a way that respects the fuckin’ integrity of the greater symbolism, and all.” Olivia sighed. “Does that mean I’m supposed to cry before or after the haircut thing?” “You’re a fuckin’ hack, Olivia. Pun once again intended.” “Should I be crying?” Flynn asked, looking up from the book cradled in his arms. “What is my motivation in this scene — in the Biblical sense?”  “Are none of you fucking getting this?!”  “Wait,” Henry mumbled, peering over Flynn’s shoulders. “Was he saying he’s Delilah?”  A low growl sounded in the pit of Jestiny’s throat, a final warning.  “They —” She clenched her jaw so forcefully that Andrea could see dimples sink into her cheeks despite the thin line her lips scrunched into, a hard knot of muscle popping its hinges as she tilted her head down and to the side. She drew in a deep breath as her hand clenched into a fist, releasing it as a ragged exhale as she splayed the fingers straight with a back and forth jostle of her arm. “They should have never let a man direct this movie,” she said with finality as she stormed off set.  Andrea sighed, turning to the side and picking up the fruit plate she���d been grazing on just in time to save it as Jestiny flipped over the craft services table. 

tags out to my sweethearts @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @just-another-wasteland-merc @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @simplegenius042 @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @nuclearstorms @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @shallow-gravy @roofgeese + opt in HERE to be tagged for writing wip shit!

[bikinikillarchives]

Kathleen Hanna featured on the track "Heartbeat" on Mike Watt's 1995 debut album, “Ball-Hog or Tugboat?". Starts at 2:19.

"Hello! Mr. Watt. This is Kathleen Hanna returning your phone call, 'bout 3:45, on Monday, and it's about that fuckin' record that you asked me to do something for. And I guess I'm responding to that now 'cuz I have a few minutes and I just wanted to tell you...uh, I have a friend who was raped by, fucked by, whatever you fuckin' wanna call it by a guy on your record, gonna be on your record; he's a big rockstar! Yeah, when he was 27 and she was 13 he was a big rockstar too. And uh, I don't know if the phrase, "power imbalance" means anything to you. But uh, I'm just not so sure I wanna be included in your little white rock boy fuckin' hall of shame here, you know? And I'm just like, "do I wanna be sandwiched in between some of these guys that are just doing the whole, like, big-white-baby-with-an-ego-problem thing?" I mean, [sigh] get over it! It's so boring. It's like, a lot of these guys should just fuckin' quit music and become lifeguards at like Wild Waves or some shit, so they can just like get their fucking, you know, anger management thing going, they can just get their power trips out on the kids, they can just do the whole thing. Maybe they'd be actually saving someone's life; "hey! Don't run by the pool. No cutoffs." You know? That's what I hear when I hear some of this, you know, music by a lot of these fuckin' guys, you know? And I mean, I guess what I'm saying is, "I'm just too cool. To be on your fuckin' record." You know? It's like, I really don't wanna perpetuate or be included in a thing where it's just a bunch of like, I don't know, just like this new- the music coming out by guys right now in the sort of like rock world or alternative rock world or used-to-be-punk world or whatever. It's like the whole, "I'm a straight, white, middle class, male, rockstar guy, but I'm so fuckin' oppressed. I'm a loser baby why don't you kill me." [Sigh] Yawn. Like super fuckin' yawn. So yeah, I guess what I'm saying is: No. No. No. No, I'm not interested. No, I don't wanna be on your fuckin' record. No. But, um. Mr. Watt. Dude. Babe. Sir. Uh, you need to get me my fuckin' Annie soundtrack back like soon 'cuz you've had it forever and I know you haven't even fuckin' listened to it yet. So just like, gimme a call and tell me when that's going to happen. And, um. I'll talk to you then. Bye."

info from Addict.com under cut.

ATN: How about "Heartbeat" [the answering-machine message from Hanna on Mike Watt's 1995 album, Ball-Hog Or Tugboat?, during which Hanna says she's declining to appear on the record because an alleged rapist is also on it]?

KH: Yeah, that's different.

ATN: Now he called you up and asked you to do the actual song that your message is tacked onto?

KH: He didn't ask me to do a song. He didn't even ask me to do anything. I forced my way onto that record. OK, I'm going to tell you the truth. You caught me in an honest mood, 'cause usually I lie. That's really bad. I'm probably going to hang up the phone and have a total seizure, a panic attack. I'll be going, "Oh my God, I told the truth to someone." I met Mike Watt, I don't even remember where. And he was telling me about his album. And I said, "It sounds like there's only one woman on this whole record, and there's, like, 300 guys." I was like, "What's the problem?" And he was like, "Do you wanna do it?" He didn't even know me. I don't even know if he knew I was in a band. And I said, "Yeah." Then I walked away, and I was visiting New York City and staying in a friend's apartment. I just spent an hour thinking about what I would want to do. The whole idea was that I didn't want to be on the record, and I kind-of said I wanted to be on the record to be annoying. And then I was like, "Uh-oh, I kind-of said I would do this." I don't think he gave a shit whether I did it or not. He just was like, "Whatever, you can do it." He's a pretty nice guy, a pretty funny guy, a pretty smart guy. Then I was like, what do I wanna do? And I was like, Oh my God, do I really want to be on a record with fuckin' Henry Rollins at this stage of the game? I mean, I love Black Flag, but c'mon. And I was like, this is really weird company to be keeping. I was like, "I don't want be on it, but I do want to be on it," so I decided to record that ambivalence. The way I figured I could do that was to record me rejecting being on the record. So it's this whole thing of recording my absence. Or recording the absence of resistance. That was my idea, to have a record of absence on the record. It also made it an interesting thing because of the idea of authorship and ownership. People didn't know if I really had left that message on the machine, and then he just put it on without my permission. Or if I left the message on his machine hoping it would go on. The thing is, there was no machine, it was just a recording. He never really had my Annie record. I made that whole thing up, I barely even know him. It's just art.

ATN: It's perfect. It's almost Andy Kaufman-like. I have written down here to ask you if Watt asked for your permission.

KH: Yeah, he did. It was a specific art piece, and I can say it now because everyone's forgotten about it. Actually my friend from junior high heard it on the radio. I was like, "Oh my god." She's like, "You sound like such a freak, what's wrong with you?"

from Mike in 2020: "This song [Heartbeat] was going to be an instrumental. But it was like 45 guys on the record and I thought, “man, I gotta have more women on this”. So I got Carla. Petra and her sisters did some singing, played some violin… I asked Tifanny, a friend of J. Mascis, if she would sing. Actually, this song is made up of a Dos song, and a song I’ve written for the Minutemen, I put them up together. Anyway, the one person who asked to be part of this project was Kathleen Hanna. So, on this song, Tifanny sings the words that I wrote, and the words that Kathleen Hanna, I guess, recited, those are her words. I was in New York City, and I was already down with the studio. Thurston was with us. And he said: “You know what, we can use my answering machine, from the studio”. So, he had Kathleen call him up and leave the message you can hear in the song. So, that’s the recording. It’s not a real message, she makes up this… Some of that stuff is very real, but some of that is made up, for sure. That’s the way Kathleen is, she mixes up things together, but the impression you get by listening to that, is like she doesn’t want to be on the record. But that’s the complete opposite of the reality, she wanted to be on the record, she asked me to. But that’s what you can do with records, you can mess up with reality. I have been asked a lot about that. That’s the story. Kathleen wanted to be on the record, she was. You know, her husband’s on there. Ad-Rock. They’ve been married 26 years, she told me that I had something to do with it. But come on, I was just trying to make a record. The same thing happened to Nels Cline and Yuka Honda. I made a record, you know, usually when I make projects, people don’t marry each other, but sometimes it happens. (laughs)"

[munsonsreputation]

#4 taylor x stranger things 🧣

Eddie Munson with You’re On Your Own Kid?

Maybe focused about the lyrics “Writing in my room

I play my songs in the parking lot” as soon as I heard those lyrics while first listening to midnights I thought of him immediately!

hi katya!!!!!

i love this request so much and i hope you like the take that i took on your request!! it's something different, but i thought this point of view made sense <3

thank you for this request and all the sweet comments...i means the world to me!!!! 🌎💫💘

Eddie hated getting emotional, or at least he used to especially when he was a little kid still living with his drunk off his ass dad. Living in that type of environment made it hard for him to express how he felt.

If he was angry, sad, disappointed, hurt, or even over the moon happy—he didn’t quite know what to make of those feelings and instead locked them away to avoid getting a drunken lecture or a smack across the cheek for being too emotional.

It wasn’t until Eddie moved in with his uncle Wayne that he learned how to cope with these emotions. How emotions were actually a good thing, and Wayne wanted to know how Eddie was feeling. That if there was anything he could do to make him feel better, he would do it in a heartbeat. That there was no such thing as being “too” emotional. That everything feeling good or bad meant something that it was important to talk to someone about it.

But of course, Wayne wasn’t always home. He worked his ass off to pay the bills and make rent, all while making sure his nephew continued school and had a fruitful future that could get him out of this town.

But he didn’t know that Eddie had his own ticket out and it was through something deeper that would touch the lives of many.

Songwriting had become a sort of therapy for the young boy. Most times it was just random sentences, almost like a diary entry that was written across the pages of his notebook. But those sentences later turned into lyrics, those of which would be carried by a guitar that Wayne gifted him for a birthday.

It started just as simple as it sounded. Writing in his room while strumming that guitar as he sang out the words until it became something to him. Like the words and tune had taken a life of its own and, for once in his life, Eddie felt proud of himself.

He felt even prouder to know that he kept songwriting and playing that guitar going for the last ten years. In high school, he founded his own band, others who also enjoyed writing and jamming out in empty parking lots just so people could hear them. It wasn’t until their senior that they got picked up by the bar that they played out of. Offering him and his band a weekend to play, letting his lyrics be heard by many more ears.

All of it seemed like a wild dream that he was chasing without ever having a map, but he was determined, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to quit anytime soon. He had one plan in mind: to keep making music, get the hell out of Hawkins, and bring his uncle with him.

So maybe the road wasn’t smooth. The journey wasn’t easy. But it all came down to one thing, and that was feeling. Feeling like he was where he was meant to be. Feeling like he belonged. Feeling like there was a world out there where he could be heard. Feeling like everything was going to fall into place one day.

And it felt like today was one of the days.

“I’m fuckin’ nervous as shit.” Eddie’s leg shook up and down as you giggled, clutching his hand in yours while he squeezed down on it.

“Just take a deep breath in babe.” You instructed him coolly.

Repeating the breathing exercises that he mimicked, trying to get ahold of his emotions right now. Not knowing if he could keep it together any longer. It all felt too surreal. He never thought he’d be sitting in this room with a bunch of people he looked up to growing up. That the people he listened to and inspired his own writing was coming up to him and congratulating him on an exciting debut album.

“Win or lose, you’ve had a great year kid.” Wayne spoke lowly, patting him on the back where he sat on the other side of him.

Wayne was right. Eddie had an amazing year as a solo artist and while it sucked having to watch his band, go after other dreams, you were more than proud of him for sticking around and making it through, fueled by his own determination and will to pursue this career.

You just knew that he was meant for this. That the second you heard that boy in the bar singing about sprinkler splashes and fireplace ashes that he was going to be something big. Eddie Munson was more than a pretty metal head, but surely one that had something to say and deserved to be heard—and you were just grateful that you could be along for the ride to see him grow and be loved around the world, just like you and Wayne loved him.

“And the winner for album of year goes to…”

Eddie closed his eyes, clutching your hand tighter and feeling the squeeze that Wayne was giving his shoulder in anticipation for the next words the announcers would peep.

“The Banished, Eddie Munson!”

A gasp left your lips, slinging your arms across his neck as you pulled him into a hug and the arena erupted in applauses and cheers. Wayne was busy celebrating to himself, clapping his hands and hollering out the words, “I knew! I knew it, son!”

“Holy shit! I love you,” He stammered in your ear, hugging you tight, feeling the happy tears you were weeping fall across his neck.

You sniffled, pulling away, as you grabbed his cheeks and stared at him lovingly, “I love you too! Now go get your award, rockstar!”

Eddie smiled, kissing you deeply before finally standing up. Reeling in the people who were on their feet for him as he walked through the aisle and up the velvet stairs where the presenters proudly handed him his award and gave him a hug.

“Wow….Jesus, I just need a second.” Eddie shook his head, looking out into the abyss of people that extended from the floor out into the stands where the flashing of cameras and cheers never ended.

“I just gotta say thank you to everyone who voted for me…” He paused, holding up his award and shoving it towards the camera, “and this would not be possible without the fans. Without my long-time friends, Corroded Coffin…this is for you guys. I wouldn’t be here without ya’ and I miss you guys every day.”

He paused, letting everyone clap before he continued, placing the trophy down onto the glass stand as he took a moment to breathe and try to collect everything he was feeling and put it into the right amount of words.

“For a long time, I thought I was just writing out of my ass to be honest with you,” He chucked, as did everyone else who laughed along, “but, uh, I’ve noticed that every song I’ve written has correlated to something I’m feeling in the moment…and when I was younger, when this whole dream started, it was about feeling alone.”

He shook his head, looking down as he could feel the tears springing to his eyes just thinking about how far he had come.

“But I’m thankful I found songwriting because it gave me that outlet to say anything—to be heard for once. And I just want to dedicate this award to my twelve-year-old self…”

Eddie Munson looked deeply into that camera, shooting that gaze towards the thousands in attendance and the millions watching from home in awe.

“Twelve-year-old me, I’ve got a message for ya,” He sniffled, smiling as the happy tears slipped down his cheeks, “Y-you made it! You’ve got your uncle! The love of your life! People who love your music!”

His voice cracked, as the cheers got louder and everyone at home watching from their couches seemed to get choked up as well.

“You’re not alone, kid!”

And that’s when Eddie Munson knew he made it. To see himself finally up on the stage that he once dreamed of being on with his girlfriend and his uncle clapping proudly because they knew it, too. All of those empty parking lots and dingy bars brought him here. The blood, sweat, and tears poured out into something good.

Something that would last and let the outcasts like Eddie know that they weren’t alone.

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