#this is an old one but oh boy was I going through it back then

[screamlet]

Don't mind if I do! ♟♟♟

oh boy why did this one take so long!! 1k, established bucktommy, bad patient tommy, quick mention of mcd. set about a year after 8x15. also for @setmeatopthepyre who sent in the same prompt! for all that they're disasters, idk if i have another "patching up a wound" in me, lol. from the nonsexual acts of intimacy prompt list

---

"So this is urgent care," Buck marvels. He leans into Tommy's space and smiles at him. "You always take me to the best places for the best new experiences."

Tommy's expression is withering, or it would be if Buck wasn't so brave and strong and in love. But then again, Tommy's the one who sliced his arm open while working on a car in the garage, so maybe he has the right to be a little cranky about it.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Buck asks. "Does that mean anything? Are you actually gonna tell me if you're in a lot of pain or—okay, jaw-clenched stoicism, I got it."

"It's fine. I don't know why you thought it was too deep for surgical glue."

Buck frowns. "It's way too deep for surgical glue." Suddenly, he beams. "Are you scared of doctors?"

"I'm not scared of doctors."

"I'm gonna ask Hen, maybe she remembers if you are."

"I'm not scared of doctors."

"Hey Hen random question but we're at urgent care and Tommy looks—"

"Maybe I'm uptight because I sliced my arm open and we're at urgent care." Tommy looks over. "You're not actually texting her, are you?"

"Nah, she and Karen took the kids on a day trip somewhere," Buck replies. "Just you and me today."

"No medical vigil for me? I see how it is."

Buck laughs, loud and bright with his whole chest. "I can FaceTime Eddie and see if he wants to hang out with us while you get like, maximum 10 stitches in your arm."

"You're making fun of me. I'm gonna have a scar on my forearm forever and you're making fun of me."

"I'm looking up scar gels," Buck assures him. "Ooh, that's us."

---

"15 stitches," Buck says. "See? I was close."

Tommy's eyes are shut as he nods. "Congrats. Use my phone, buy yourself something pretty."

"Can we get burgers after this? Hey," Buck says, softer. "You're not okay, are you? You can tell me."

Tommy takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out. "I'm fine. I'll be a lot better when I'm stitched up and home. It's fine."

They move into a different room with a bigger setup, trays ready to go and Dr. Donna cheerfully waving them over. "I can sit with him, right?" Buck asks, holding up their joined hands.

"Of course, bring all the moral support in the world," she replies. "Never too old or brave or big strong firefighter to have your hand held while someone sews you up."

"It's fine," Tommy says, absolutely not fine. "I've had staples in the field, I've been sewed up in tents in Afghanistan. This? This is nothing."

Tommy's clutching his hand so tightly that Buck can't actually squeeze back, so he rests his free hand on Tommy's instead. "Can you distract me?" Tommy asks. "Now's a great time to read me like, the entirety of an essay on… something. What are you into right now?"

"Can I look up the history of surgery?"

"A couple of little pinches, just ignore me," Dr. Donna says quickly. "Hey, why don't you tell me how you guys met? Got together?"

Buck leans forward to catch Dr. Donna's eye, which he can't do because she's working on Tommy's arm and whispering to the nurse next to her. "Uh, we can't tell you, actually. It's classified."

"Cruise ship rescue operation," Tommy says through clenched teeth. "Lifeboats, remember?"

"Oh, right, that's what they said."

Tommy huffs out a little laugh, squeezes Buck's hand tighter. "You'll never get security clearance for anything in your life, not ever."

"Yeah, probably not. How about, um. Hmm. Oh! Got together. The first time, I sprained my best friend's ankle because I was jealous, and then we kissed and it was great. The next time, we ran into each other at a bar and hooked up, and then we got back together—" Buck pauses.

"You okay?" Tommy asks.

"It's okay," Buck says. "Second time, we kinda did and didn't get back together, uh, after my captain at the firehouse—he was closer to me than my dad—uh, he died, and we just… got back together."

"I'm sorry, hon," Dr. Donna replies. "That's never easy."

"We both lost him," Buck says. "Yeah, so we were putting our lives back together and then it turned out that my sublet—I was subletting a house from my friend who moved back to Texas, the one whose ankle I sprained—well he didn't mention that the rest of the lease was only four months."

"You didn't read the lease."

"He's my best friend, we don't need leases."

"Clearly, you did."

"I don't have a lease from you. Do we need a lease?"

"Not if I'm evicting you today," Tommy replies.

"Yeah, nice try, who's gonna talk to your plants when you're on shift? And your kitchen would be nothing without me, Tommy."

"I guess that's true. I'd have to buy all those spices again and god knows how long that would take."

Buck smiles to himself; Tommy's feeling better already. "Anyway, the lease was up but I didn't know if I wanted to renew because the landlord wanted to jack up the rent by a lot, so Tommy—"

"I came to the conclusion that we were already living together, pretty much, so why not move into my house—"

"House that you own, with a really nice kitchen that could use all my pots and pans. Dishes, too, it's like you never had anyone over."

"My house that I own, and then—" Tommy sighs. "And then I'll see him every day. And every day he'll talk my ear off about anything and everything under the sun, except today—"

"You're all set," Dr. Donna announces. "That was agonizing, huh?"

Tommy looks down at his forearm, then shows Buck. "Staples would have been fine."

"You would have hated those so much more, believe me," she laughs. "Alright, Shirley's going to get your paperwork and then you can get out of here. Follow up with your primary care doctor or come back here. If it starts to take a turn for the worse: I think you know who to call." She smiles and points at both of them. "Burgers. Treat yourself. Extra carbs."

"Are they good for healing? Carbs?" Buck asks.

She shrugs and waves, then leaves again. "I'm gonna look that up," Buck says. "Can I have my hand back?"

"No."

"Big baby," Buck mumbles, bringing Tommy's hand to his lips and kissing it. "I love your big baby parts."

"That's maybe the worst way you could have put it."

"But you love me anyway."

Tommy's lips are a fine line again, slightly turned downward, but then he brings Buck's hand to his lips, too. "I love you anyway."

[himasgod]

Some twisted wonderland character comforts us when we broke down because we want to go back to our home ( separated) but it was no way back home

( if so can you make one with Jamil? )

ACE AND DEUCE AND JAMIL X READER

Where they comfort you when you miss home

How would the boys act when they find you crying because you know there's probably no way home?

The stars in Twisted Wonderland weren’t the same.

They were too blue. Too distant. Too still.

Back home, you remembered lying on your roof during summer nights, watching airplanes blink past, hearing distant traffic and dogs barking in backyards.

Here… all you could hear was wind. A different wind. One that felt like it didn’t belong to your lungs, like it didn’t know you.

You were used to pretending, smiling like things were okay. You had magic to study, housewarden rules to follow, ghosts to wrangle. But tonight… it cracked.

You sat on the crumbling steps of Ramshackle, hoodie sleeves pulled over your fists, knees drawn up to your chest. The sky blurred above you because of the tears you’d been holding back for months, now spilling down with no resistance.

You missed everything.

The feel of your own bed. Your mom’s voice. The dumb jingles from your favorite shows. The smell of your old laundry detergent. Even the mundane fights with classmates.

There was no way home.

Crowley said it over and over, he was trying to find it.

But now it felt real. You were trapped.

Like the story had been closed, and you were the only character left behind in the wrong book.

You didn’t notice when someone walked up the path to Ramshackle.

You didn’t hear the footsteps on the gravel.

“…Yo,” came a voice—too casual for the quiet night. “Did you forget what time it is? You’re gonna catch a cold out here like that.”

You blinked hard and looked up.

Ace stood a few steps away, jacket slung over one shoulder, a paper bag in his other hand.

Behind him was Deuce, fidgeting with something behind his back, expression hesitant but worried.

“…We brought you dinner. Er… late dinner,” Deuce said softly. “You weren’t in the cafeteria today.”

You tried to wipe your face quickly, but it was obvious.

“…Oh. I—I wasn’t really hungry,” you whispered, your voice cracking halfway through.

Ace dropped his bag next to you and sighed, crouching down to your level. He didn’t immediately say anything, just stared at your blotchy teary face

“Okay. Out with it. You’re too crap at hiding stuff.”

Deuce sat on the other side, carefully putting down a warm container of food next to you. It smelled like miso soup—maybe something Sam sold them.

You shook your head. “It’s dumb. I’m just… being stupid. Sorry.”

“Don't do that,” Deuce said, his tone suddenly firmer.

“You don’t have to say sorry. Not to us.”

Ace leaned his elbows on his knees, lips twitching.

“You seriously think we haven’t noticed you spacing out lately? Every time someone says something about ‘home’ or ‘parents’ you get that far-off look like someone hit you with a sad spell.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Kinda,” Ace said.

“But we didn’t wanna push. Thought maybe you’d talk when you were ready.”

You swallowed hard.

“I just… I want to go back. To where I belong. I don’t want to stay here forever. I want to be home, and there's no mirror, no spell, no nothing that can fix that. Crowley keeps pretending he’s looking but we all know he’s not really doing anything. It feels like I’m slowly being erased from my own world…”

Your throat clenched as your voice wavered.

“And I’m scared I’ll forget what my mom’s laugh sounds like.”

That was when the silence fell heavy.

Deuce looked down, fists clenched. He finally said, quietly.

“I’d be scared too.”

Ace was still. His normal sarcasm was gone.

“…That sucks,” he muttered, honest for once. “That really, really sucks.”

You let out a sob you didn’t know you were holding.

Without a word, Ace scooted closer and dropped his head against your shoulder.

“I’m not gonna tell you everything’s gonna be okay, ‘cause that’d be a load of bull. But…”

He reached over and flicked your forehead—light, just enough to be annoying.

“If you cry without telling us, I’m gonna be mad. Seriously.”

“Same,” Deuce added, resting his head in your other shoulder, more gently.

“You’re not alone, okay? You’ve got us.”

You looked between them, sniffing.

“Why… why do you two care so much?”

“Because we’re friends, dummy,” Ace said immediately, almost insulted.

“You’re our weird, stubborn, always-in-danger-because-you-have-zero-self-preservation-and-you-need-to-help-every-fucking-body friend. What kind of guys would we be if we didn’t have your back?”

Deuce smiled a little.

“And because you’ve helped us a lot too. You were there when we messed up. It’s our turn now.”

You covered your eyes with your sleeves again.

“…Thanks. Both of you.”

They didn’t push more.

Ace leaned back, arms crossed behind his head, and started complaining about how cold the steps were and how he should have brought a chair.

Deuce stayed beside you, occasionally handing you tissues from his uniform pocket.

At some point, you ate the soup.

It wasn’t your mom’s cooking, but it was warm, and it tasted like comfort.

And when you finally stood up, heart heavy but a little less cracked, Ace grinned and nudged your shoulder.

“Still stuck here with us losers, huh? Guess that means we better keep you around.”

Deuce laughed.

“And maybe… someday, there’ll be a way back. But until then… we’ll make this place feel a little more like home.”

And for the first time in a long while, you believed them.

You weren't supposed to be here.

The lounge of Scarabia in night wasn't exactly forbidden, but it was hardly a place students went after hours.

It was quiet. Isolated. Uncomfortable, even, with the cold stone beneath you and the wind tugging at your sleeves. But maybe that discomfort was comforting in its own way. Tangible. Something you could feel while everything else felt so...

Detached.

The sky above was foreign—unfamiliar stars scattered in constellations you didn't recognize, a moon that looked the same but felt completely different.

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, and stared into the distance.

"I want to go home," you murmured. The words felt like a betrayal.

Saying them out loud made them heavier.

You hadn’t heard the voice behind you.

"Then why are you here, instead of asking Crowley for the thousandth time to send you back?"

The voice was dry, even. Unmistakable.

You turned slowly. Jamil, arms crossed. His gaze was sharp as always, but there was no mockery in his expression.

Only... observation. Careful, measured.

"I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone," you said, managing a weak smile. "Let alone come looking."

Jamil stepped into. He didn't respond right away. Instead, he glanced up at the sky.

"Grim noticed. You left your bag behind, and he was tearing apart the hallway like you'd disappeared into thin air."

You huffed a bitter laugh. "Well, that would be on-brand for this world, wouldn't it?"

He didn’t laugh.

He just moved to stand beside you, the silence stretching long. The wind tugged at his braids.

"You want to go home," he said again, quieter this time.

You didn't answer.

"You're not the first person who wanted to leave this place," he continued. "And you won't be the last."

"You sound like you know what it feels like," you said.

Jamil sat down beside you, back straight even as he lowered himself. He rested his arms loosely on his knees, his fingers laced together. Always in control. Always composed.

"I used to think I could escape too. That one day, I'd walk away from Scarabia. From Kalim. From... all of it."

You glanced sideways. "What stopped you?"

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Reality."

That one word hit harder than anything else had.

He continued, gaze fixed on the sky.

"No one ever asked me if I wanted to serve the Al-Asim family. No one ever asked me what I wanted. They just assumed. And when you're trained your whole life to be useful, your desires become irrelevant."

His words should have sounded bitter. But they didn’t. They were too matter-of-fact for that.

"And now?" you asked.

"Now? I play the part. Because if I don’t, someone else will write the ending for me."

Your throat tightened.

"I'm sorry."

Jamil looked at you finally, and for a moment, his eyes softened.

"You don’t need to be. You’re not the reason things are the way they are."

The silence returned. But this time, it was gentler. Less suffocating.

"I miss them," you whispered.

"My family. My friends. I miss the smell of my house. The taste of my grandma's food. I miss sunsets I recognize. I miss waking up and knowing where I am."

Jamil didn’t interrupt. He didn’t offer empty reassurances. He let you speak.

"And sometimes I feel like... if I let myself forget even one thing, it means I'm giving up. That I'm letting this place win."

Your voice cracked.

"I forgot the password on my old phone. I forgot the tune my sister always sang when she came home from school. I briefly forgot my dog's birthday."

"I'm tired, Jamil. I'm so tired."

He didn’t reach for you. That wasn’t his way

He leaned a little closer. Close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. Just barely.

"Then rest. Just for tonight."

You looked at him, eyes stinging. "I don’t know how."

His expression didn’t change. But he said, softly:

"Then let me keep watch while you figure it out."

A lump formed in your throat. You turned your head away, but not before he saw it.

"You don’t have to be strong every second of every day," he continued. "I know what it’s like to keep everything inside until it eats you alive. I won’t let that happen to you."

He said it like a promise. Quiet. Fierce.

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and leaned into him a little more. He didn’t move away.

"We’re both trapped, aren’t we?"

"Maybe," he murmured. "But under the same sky. Under the same stars."

You sat there together, under constellations neither of you recognized, listening to the wind.

And when your head gradually rested against his shoulder, and his warmth settled around you like a shield, you felt him shift just enough to let it happen.

He didn’t speak again, but you felt the faintest brush of his fingers as they hovered near yours doing constellation figures—hesitating, uncertain.

And then, softly, he intertwined them with yours.

The night didn't feel quite so cold.

[storiesfromasmalltown]

YOU WERE ALWAYS ON MY MIND

or

The five times you danced with Michael Robinavitch

f!Reader x Dr. Robby

Warnings: cursing, drinking, bittersweet stuff idk, happy ending, not beta read, reader is Robby’s age, reader has hair and is shorter than him (let me know if I forgot anything!)- reader has also never gotten over anything

No use of Y/N

Best paired with Maisie Peters Elvis Song, Lucy Dacus and Hozier Bullseye, Taylor Swift Holy Ground

1.You met at a party during undergrad, he was all floppy hair and laughter back then- tall and lanky in the way college boys are before they really grow into their own. He was pre-med, you were undecided. Maybe he was the shove you needed to commit to medicine, but that didn’t matter at the time. The party was held in a sticky frat house, full of people and smoke and he fit right in, laughing loudly, playing beer pong and you were in over your head the moment you saw him. It was a cliche meet cute, your eyes met you excused yourself to your friends and made your way to the drinks table. He was cute, you were three drinks in and when he gave you that smile and said you his name is Michael but everyone calls him Robby you couldn’t help the butterflies. 

“Do you dance Michael?”

He raised an eyebrow at the name and extended his arm, long fingers reaching for yours.

“I do with pretty girls who call me by my first name.”

You felt warmth spread around your cheeks and he pulled you into the crowd and didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night. 

You spent the rest of that year studying on his sofa bed in the rented apartment just off campus, sharing chemistry notes and kisses when his roommates were away. He was perfect but you were always a bit of a flight risk and on one of the many nights you spent with his arms around your waist pulling you onto his lap as you sorted through notes you thought 

oh I am in over my head

“What’s on your mind?”

His voice shakes you out of your thoughts, a worn greatest hits Elvis record draws You were always on my mind in the back.

“Nothing hon’, I’m just tired.”

He gave you a look and you leaned to kiss his cheek while your brain screamed that this was never going to work.

2. The second time you danced was at a graduation party, you didn’t really date anyone after him, you applied to med school- even after his name started swimming in front of your eyes whenever you would close them,  but you made your choice- he gave you everything and you left, you had no right to be the hurt one here. 

“Congratulations.”

He must have had a bit to drink but so had you, you turned to face him, there was a strange shadow across his face, one that wasn’t there before you but you closed your eyes and for a second imagined a life where you didn’t walk out of his kitchen on a Sunday morning and never walked back in.

“Do you still dance with pretty girls who call you by your first name?”

He gave you a sad smile, arm reaching to fix the strap of your white dress.

“Only those that broke my heart.”

You turned to walk away but he closed his hand around your shoulder.

“I don’t want to dance with anyone but you tonight, it doesn’t have to mean anything. For old times sake?”

And you both pretended it didn’t break your heart.

“Did you get into med school?”

You felt him nod, he rested his head on top of yours for a second, it was a slow dance, friends and lovers swaying to the same fucking Elvis song again.

“Yeah, you?”

You nodded into his shoulder, a tear escaping you. He would haunt you for the rest of your life.

3. You hated fundraising galas, but you were a star pediatric resident for the Philadelphia hospital you matched into. You thought working your ass off would be enough but you guess you had to be paraded around as a show pony too. Your dress felt uncomfortable, it looked stunning but you were hyper aware of every stitch that touched your body. You held a glass of white wine in hand, it had gone warm but it felt good to hold something. The networking and chatting part of the night passed by and people were sitting and talking or swaying on the romantically lit dance floor- not that it made any sense to you why a dance floor for a fundraising gala would have romantic lighting but you assumed it softened people. You scanned the crowd for the familiar face you caught a glimpse of earlier. His shoulders looked broader, he had a few laugh lines etched into his face. His once soft clean shaven face had a neat beard on it and his floppy hair was cropped shorter, but it was him, you couldn’t forget those eyes if you tried. You saw him when he entered, a man with short curls came in with him, they were deep in conversation and you slipped out for air, because the what-if’s didn’t rest. You couldn’t leave while the chatting up was happening and now you really itched to get away but your friend was flirting with a woman at the bar and you had come in together. 

“You always looked good in black.”

He materialised by your side, hands in the pockets of his slacks, doing that thing where he tries to make his impossibly tall body shrink.

“Thank you Michael.”

He offered a smile and you offered a compliment in return.

“You should stand up straighter, your posture is fucked.”

“Well that's what the ED will do to you-”

“You specialised in emergency medicine?”

He nodded his head, shy and proud, blushing again at the way you looked at him with eyes full of pride. Like he forgot you broke his heart into a million pieces.

“You?”

“I’m in pedes.”

“Do you want to dance doctor?”

“I would love to.”

And something cracks a bit more on that dance floor, he moves you around it and the small talk feels like its mapping out the ocean wide divide between who you used to be and who you are now. The dance ends and you kiss his cheek and leave without saying anything else, picking up pace- your friend finds you crying in the bathroom and you tell her how much you missed him every day for the past 8 years and she doesn’t understand why you can’t go back.

4.  You’re at a wedding, not yours- even your mother gave up on that once your turned 45, but the first one since you moved to Pittsburgh. You check your phone wondering if it is too early to leave, maybe you can take up a shift at the hospital, get into the groove a bit more. The pediatrics attending position you got an offer from the board of the PTMC was too good to refuse, until you attended a meeting and found yourself sitting across from a familiar face. 

He came in late, black scrub top, navy blue hoodie, salt and pepper beard and a face that felt like a map of moments you had missed. He looked tired, depleted- like he carried the world on his shoulders.

“This is our new attending for the pediatrics department-”

The administration woman- Gloria, started to introduce you but you zoned out, she didn’t motion for you to stand up and just kept going through what you assumed was her usual repertoire. You busied yourself by writing notes on the legal pad in front of you because if you looked up and saw him there- Dr. Robinavitch, chief attending of the ED, tall and confident and still so warm with the same eyes that used to melt you in your spot.

You heard the chair next to you move and you knew who it was this time, you had stopped trying to fight it.

“Nice to see you have a social life.”

You snorted in your drink.

“Look who’s talking.”

He laughed before replying-

“Well I think I’m still better than Abbot.”

You met Dr. Abbot on a consult and you caught a healthier coping mechanism than whatever Robby had going on.

“One of you goes to therapy and it’s not you.”

“I actually came by to ask you for a dance not for a mental health check.”

You felt brave, for the first time in a long time, like someone who won’t burn it all down out of fear, like a woman who has too many lonely years behind her. So you reached out your hand, steadier and more confident than it was at 20.

“I would love  to dance with you Michael.”

You were on the dancefloor for a while when he whispered in your ear during a slow dance.

“I always liked dancing with pretty girls who call me by my first name.”

“Pretty girl is a bit of a stretch for one who is over 50.”

He pulled away to study your face, the only one he had ever  memorised that way.

“I meant beautiful woman, but I never forgot the pretty girl.”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t run.”

“Don’t interrupt me- I’m sorry I ever did run.”

And that was all you had to say.

5. You were on the fence about getting married at your age, but you found you couldn’t tell him no, not when he had asked nicely in your kitchen. The one you shared in the house you shared, the place you did laundry together, cooked meals, where your shoes mixed by the door, where people came in for a glass of wine after a long day, the garden you had barbecues in, the place you played that same 30 year old Elvis record. 

“Well good morning Dr Robinavitch.”

You laughed at him, voice strained by the morning, hands around your waist, he was fully wrapped around you.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“You know we didn’t dance yesterday-”

“We were in a courthouse.”

“Yeah but I think that I would really love to dance with my wife.”

So you let him spin you around like he had so many times, but instead of mapping the places you missed it was circling the life you finally got to live. Smoothening the cracks you weren’t there to mend the first time.

[hotvintagepoll]

Cantinflas (Around the World in 80 Days, Ahí está el detalle, Ni Sangre, ni Arena)—OH BOY I GET TO TALK ABOUT CANTINFLAS!! Honestly, I’m not the most qualified to even be talking about him: he was famously a king of wordplay, but Spanish is my second language so I always feel like I’m missing some of the jokes…..but even so he is so SO funny it’s like unbelievable. Ok so also. One movie I can talk confidently about is him in around the world in 80 days, which i have watched so many times and he just rocks. Like. ROCKS. Here he is on his dumb little bike [included below the cut]. This is how we meet him in th movie and I think they should have just put the words “SCRUNGLY” across the scene.He also does little tricks, wears his dumb little shoes, has some kind of weird romantic thing going on with David niven…..it makes me so sad we dont have even more movies from him because honestly his whole thing (esp in 80 days with his silly trousers) is just Gender.  

Elsa Lanchester (The Bride of Frankenstein, Witness for the Prosecution, Mary Poppins)—Surely somebody's already submitted Elsa Lanchester for this right? Right??? Because her scrungle levels are OFF THE CHARTS in literally everything. The way she's Katy Nanna straight-up refusing to spend another minute with Jane and Michael Banks because she has DIGNITY thank you very much. The way she's Mary Goddamn Shelley stuck listening to Lord Byron mansplaining literature like "ha ha maybe even YOUR little monster story will be published" and she shoots back "It *WILL* be published, *I* think!!!" in the most bright-as-nails fuck-you-Byron voice imaginable. The way she's a nurse herding her lawyer charge through a sordid love-triangle case and we gradually realize the real love story was between her and the lawyer all along. The way she's a clandestine witch casting hexes on telephones, the way she's a princess's PA and helps an old friend steal an invitation card, the way she's a cleaning lady who goes to Germany to personally assassinate Hitler, the way she's a posh village worthy trying to impress Danny Kaye, the way ERRGHH i could go on just look at her scrungle.

These are the the FINALS for the SCRUNGLY LITTLE GUY contest. From the original 198 contestants we have winnowed it down to these two! If you’re confused on what a scrungly little guy is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here. There are no other polls in this bracket. Please reblog with propaganda for your favorite scrungly little guy.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungle videos under the cut]

Cantinflas:

"charlie chaplin once called him the greatest comedian alive"

Elsa Lanchester:

[ysrjune]

BROTHERS!STEPHEN, SAM & SCOTT 𖹭.ᐟ

dedicated to ; @alexlovesysrjune & @dollfilmz ‹𝟹

SMUT 💔💔💔 YOU LITTE SKANKS

"IIIII DONTTT CAREEE," Steve sort of yells over his brothers. "I don't wanna be hearing you guys going at it with your girlfriends at TWO in the MORNING." Stephen points his finger at the twins.

For a week straight, Sam and Scott had been 'sneaking' their girlfriends over at night since their parents were on an anniversary vacation in another state. Steve thought it was so stupid that the boys thought they had to sneak those girls in. He liked them and he trusted them. Did he know that they'd probably end up having sex with his brothers when they thought Steve wasn't paying attention?.. is grass green?

The whole point was that he didn't care what the boys did with their girlfriends. But they could at least check if it was cool to bring the girls over instead of assuming their big brother would get mad and say no. Those boys were old enough to make their own decisions. Did Steve care if they were safe and making smart choices? Yes, definitely, but it wasn't his biggest concern. If the boys ended up doing something stupid, that was their fault and not his.

"We don't go AT it, dude. You're just a light sleeper, is all." Sam rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Oh, trust me, Sammy. I am not a light sleeper. And you know what that means? If I can hear your damn headboard knocking against my wall while you're getting your silly stick played with, ITS BECAUSE YOU'RE BEING LOUD!" Steve was crashing out. He was so SO mad.

Scott cracked a smile, trying to hold in a laugh. "AND YOU.." Steve gives his gaze to the other blonde. "Oh-" Scott replied instantly. "Know how YOUR headboard is on the wall where my shelfs are on my side of the wall? MY PICTURE FRAME BROKE THE OTHER DAY YOU LITTLE—" Steve was gonna choke out his brother like Homer Simpson does to Bart.. but he knew better. "Jesus Christ, the both of you." He groans and then sighs to calm down.

"Look. You don't have to sneak them in. You don't have to ask me for permission to bring them. I don't care if you're getting.. sexual," He cringes at himself, but he wanted to sound serious. "Just.. for the love and respect you have for me, DONT do it at two in the morning. Especially not like jack rabbits. So help me God, If another picture frame breaks or I'm awaken from my sleep, I'm going to go into your rooms and smack the hell out of you right in the moment." Steve crosses his arms.

"I can't EVER get some shut eye around here." That makes the twinsies laugh little bit. He's so white. "Put a pillow behind the headboard, YOU MONKEYS. God damn." Steve fake cried and then walked out of the living room. When he was gone, the twins looked at each other and lost it. "I CANT GET SHUT EYE??" Scott screams as he laughs and hits Sam's shoulder. "YOU MONKEYS." Sam screams back and laughs with his brother.

"Oh my God," Sam whimpers from behind his girlfriend. "keep doin' it like that for me.. ahh—" his hand rests on her hip as she fucks herself back on his throbbing cock. "yea, baby. keep asking for more." she pants. "keep acting like a little whore for me? maybe then I'll let you cum inside."

Fuck. Sam loves when she talks him through it. He loves being her little whore. It's always so embarrassing when he talks to his friends about fucking their girlfriends because they always think that Sam is the one in control. He's tough, has an attitude, and likes to boss people around sometimes.. so why wouldn't he be the one pounding into his girl while she cries for more? Well, because he loves being taken care of.

"mommy, please.. pleaseplease lemme cum n'side.. been so good for you." Sam whimpers out, now slowly rolling his hips against hers. "Miss you so damn much." This was the first time in two days he had fucked. Sam is always so needy and horny. Two days without having sex is like two years. "You're a little bitch." She tsks. "Come over here, let me see that pretty face."

The position has switched. She's on top of him, holding onto the headboard. His head is deep in his pillows, staring up at his perfect girlfriend. "Here, hand here.." Sam leads one of her hands to his neck. Obliging to his small request, she then starts rolling her hips, occasionally bouncing on his needy dick. "uhh—yeayeaye–mpph!" Sam whines at the feeling and lewd sounds of her wet pussy.

Just with a few more strokes, Sam came inside her, falling in and out of consciousness because he could hardly breathe. But it's not like he didn't like it. Before he knew it, she was sitting on his face. His pierced tongue felt so good inside her. Licking and sucking—goodness. it was heaven. Felt so good, she was rocking her hips again, bumping her clit to his perfect button nose. It was all too good that her hands instinctively pushed the headboard against the wall repeatedly.

Sam was concerned for a second, remembering what Stephen had said.. but also.. it wasn't two in the morning.. it was only around 9:40ish, so there was no way he'd get mad.. and with that, Sam continued to eat her out.

The next day, Did Scott follow his brothers ask? H-H-HELLL NAW 🗣 he was so pissed today. Coach made him run 3 miles without water because he cussed out one of his team mates for messing up a play on purpose because the guy thought it would be funny, he failed a history test, and there was nothing to eat when he got home.

"You little bitch, stop fucking moving. I'm not taking time out of my miserable fucking day to make you cum." He fucks her on his bed, with the headboard knocking against the wall and his bed creaking insanely loud. "scotty!" she whines. "baby, it hurts!"

"Oh my fucking God, shut up. You're the one who suggested it. Take it like a big girl." He smacks her cheek and smirks at how it reddens. Noticing tears swelling in her eyes, Scott begins to feel bad. "Aw, angel." He softens his voice. "M so sorry doll. Just take it, yeah? Let.." His strokes become sloppy and uncoordinated. "Let me do this." His voice goes into a higher pitch as he moans her name over and over like a prayer.

"I love this pussy so much. Gonna make her miss me while I'm away for the whole week." He was going on a week field trip against the state to visit a football stadium and go to practice with the team that the stadium belongs to. "gonna miss you, scotty.." she bites her lip, feeling how Scott now decides to be nice and actually make her feel good.

"Yeah you are." He leans down, kissing her." biting her bottom lip and making the sexiest noises against it, he feels her cum around him. "mhm, cream that dick, pretty girl. lemme feel y—mm..fuck.. ye—uhh!" He pulls out right in time as he finishes. "You're so good to me.." He kisses her again. sweetly this time.

The next morning, the boys got choked out Bart Simpson style. not really. But Steve pulled their hair and literally swung at them. Not close enough to actually hit him, but he was going crazy.

"I ASK YOU TO NOT DO ONE FUCKING THING AND YOU??? OHHHMYGODDDDD!!!" He chucks pillows at the boys while they're laughing. "IM GONNA KILL YOU BOTH!" He even hit the:

Both younger boys have videos and photos of this crashout. Its hilarious.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira

[furioussouls]

LADS boys and their love for you as Hozier Songs

Credit: @incorrectloveanddeepspace <3

Summary: LADS boys and their love for you( MC) as Hozier songs.

ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ

Xavier:

• NFWB

When I first saw you, the end was soon

….

Give your heart and soul to charity

'Cause the rest of you, the best of you

Honey, belongs to me

….

Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay?

Ain′t you my baby?

Ain′t you my baby?

Nothing fucks with my baby

Nothing can get a look in on my baby

Nothing fucks with my baby

Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

If I was born as a blackthorn tree

I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you

Fuel the pyre of your enemies

- Xavier could save his people by sacrificing your life ( “your heart“(l.2)) and yet.. he doesn’t. His protectiveness (l.8 f.) and love for you won’t allow it. Xavier’s love for you is too much, to blindly and overwhelming.

Zayne:

• Francesca

Do you think I'd give up

That this might've shook the love from me

Or that I was on the brink?

How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?

Now that it's done

There's not one thing that I would change

My life was a storm, since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

If someone asked me at the end

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah

I would still be surprised I could find you, darling

In any life

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

…..

I would not change it each time (I would not change it each time)

Heaven is not fit to house a love (Heaven is not fit to house a love)

Like you and I (like you and I)

- illustating the tumultuous relationship between Zayne and Astra. It doesn’t matter, Zayne doesn’t regret a single thing second with you. It doesn’t matter what pain he‘ll be put through.

Rafayel:

• Hymn to Virgil

I would burn the world to bring some heat to you

I would burn the world to bring some heat

You are the reason I went through it, oh

The only meaning as I knew it, my-yeah

I can only do my best, I do not do this for myself

I'd walk through hell on living feet for you

I wouldn't be seen walking through any door

Some place that you're not welcome to

You stare at the faces smiling from somewhere warm

Some place the sunlight won't come through

- Rafayel lost his home and people in Lemuria, all for you (l.3). He‘ll do anything for you, give you his everything. You’re the keeper of his heart, after all.

Sylus:

•It will come back and Almost (sweet music)

Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul

Honey, make this easy

Leave it to the land, this is what it knows

Honey, that's how it sleeps

Don't let it in with no intention to keep it

Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it

Honey, don't feed it, it will come back

….

It can't be unlearned

I've known the warmth of your doorways

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Oh, please, give me mercy no more

That's a kindness you can't afford

I warn you, babe, each night, as sure as you're born

You'll hear me howling outside your door

….

I′m almost me again

She's almost you

…

Be still, my foolish heart

Don't ruin this on me

…

I got some colour back

She thinks so, too

I laugh like me again

She laughs like you

- you were the first human to show dragon Sylus gentleness and affection (l.1-3). You should’ve known what the consequences of that would be (l.7). Of course, he can’t let you go. How could he? He‘ll return to you, for the warmth of you is the only one he knows (l. 8-14)

In your current timeline, he‘ll see glimpses of your old self (l.15 - 16) and he feels himself starting to become his old self again. Slowly but surely.

Caleb:

• Work song and Take me to church

There′s nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby′s sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin′ me

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

…..

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I′d still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me.

……

I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife

Offer me my deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life

No masters or kings when the ritual begins

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

- Caleb adores you. He worships you. He always has and always will. His love for you fulfills him (l.3-4) and nothing can keep him from you. Not even his alleged death. He‘ll crawl back to you if he must (l.5-8). He’s not ashamed of his love for you, not anymore (l.9-16), however he wishes you both could share the sin of the intensity of your love (l.20)

ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ

A/N: When I’m in a yearning competition but my opponents are the LADS boys or Hozier.

[hbatfam98]

I have a headcannon that Batman is The supportive father.

In the normal sense that he would support his kids in whatever path they choose (vigilante, doctor, anything that's not a straight up war criminal really), supports and funds all their hobbies and passions and after seeing how hesitant the first kid to come out to him was, had pride flags hanging in every corner of the batcave, made pride pins that were safe to wear with their vigilante uniforms and maybe even brings back rainbow batman for a day if any of his kids were having a really hard time.

But also, he absolutely refuses to critique/scold any of his kids in public/in front of others.

Dick skips school because a travelling circus is coming to Gotham and claims his absence is because of a family emergency? (He doesn't know how to explain to Bruce that yes it will hurt to see the performers but it would also feel like returning home. That even though he loves his life now he still missed being in the circus) When the school calls Bruce that night, Bruce lectures Dick on the importance of honesty and "next time just tell me you want to go to the circus chum, I'd have sorted it out. I hope u had fun kid and... if u want, only if u want, we could go to one together sometime? I heard there was a show in Bludhaven next week..." Then the next day Bruce drops Dick off at his class and walks into that school sobbing, blubbering about how his emotional support cat had died and it was a miracle Dick was able to return to school so soon.

Bruce gets called down to a fancy store because Jason, who was wearing his old clothes, got accused of shoplifting? Bruce is there in seconds lecturing the store owner about how disgusting it was to judge his son based on his clothes, until littleJay tugs on his shirt and whispers "I did it." After which he lectures the store owner for having the checkout at the wrong place in the store, that's why his precious boy got confused! (And in the meantime discreetly slips Jason a $200 bill) "Did you even ask my kid if he had the money or did u just assume huh? Oh you didn't ask? Well why don't you ask him now Mr.Prick?" and Jason gleefully shows him the bill. Then in the car ride back home Jason admits that he was trying to steal the pretty pen because he wanted to give Bruce a nice present for father's day but he didn't have enough saved up and Bruce lectures him on honesty, trust and "I don't need an expensive gift sweetheart. Having u with me, to celebrate father's day with and knowing that u wanted to do something nice for me is all I need. .. the second best gift would be if u would give me a private showing of ur big speech in your school play?" (And that's how the tradition of Jason performing some monologue from his current favourite play every father's day started)

And the lectures/scolding for his kids only happening in private carries over to their vigilante life too. Batman will point out any mistake made by JL, in front of the criminals they are currently in the process of apprehending. Reading any post mission report he wrote feels like being back at school and getting back an assignment covered in red ink.

Then the younger heroes start joining. Now, the batkids are trained well - they make fewer mistakes than most of the JL - but mistakes still happen.

Nightwing makes the wrong judgement call and one of the criminals almost gets away. The JL members hold their breath as Batman drags the criminal back, ready to step in if he's too harsh. "Sorry Bats, I thought it was the right call to make" Dick mutters disappointed with himself and all Batman says is "it happens." The next day Batman advices Nightwing on what to consider when making those decisions and how to train yourself to make them in the moment. The post mission report just reads "one criminal slipped away but was apprended moments later. More manpower would have been optimal for this mission"

In the middle of another mission the rushed voice of Oracle comes through the comms, "they've hacked our comms, I wasn't fast enough to stop them. I am turning comms off now so our communications aren't compromised." *Click* The JL have to rely on silent communication and guesswork to complete the rest of the mission. Once it's over, Batman pull out his cellphone, "Oracle, we have completed the mission. Everyone is safe. Do u need help regaining control of our comms?" When they make it back to the watchtower, Batman stays by Oracle's side and they figure out what the weak point was and how to keep it better protected. The post mission report just reads, "Comms was compromised. JL should train in silent communication to be better prepared for such circumstances."

Older JL members are so jeealouss. After these incidents, when he was lecturing one of the members post mission he hears some of them mutter about favouritism. But it wasn't exactly favouritism...

Which they realise when Kid Flash, sent to scout out a location beforehand misses a hidden latch. In the middle of the 'negotiation', goons spring out of the secret room and attack. Once they are all tied up, Batman stalks over to Kid Flash - whose adrenaline was coming down and it was dawning on him that this only happened because he missed something. "I'm so sorry Mr. Ba-" "Show me your arm kid" Batman says as he folds up Wally's arm so he can better examine where Wally had skinned his elbow when he fell during the fight - it wasn't even really bleeding. Still Batman is thorough in making sure it is properly disinfected and bandaged up and when Wally tries to apologise again during this he says, "It's a secret room kid, it was meant to be easy to miss." When they're back at the watchtower, Batman pulls Wally aside to lecture him about how it's better to slow down and take a few extra seconds when needed, and then hands him a file with all the tricks Batman had learnt to spot things that are not quite right more easily. The post mission report just reads, "was ambushed by 5 attackers, they were subdued in 8 minutes. JL should have more trainings im responding to ambushes."

Batman never wanted children (not just his) to be so afraid of his reaction that they wouldn't come to him for help if they had made a mistake. Yes, they will have to suffer through lectures if they made a mistake that could have been easily avoided, but that will always only happen after everything gets sorted out and everyone is in a safe place again. Soon, much to the confusion and shock of older JL members, young heroes, though hesitantly, regularly go to Batman to ask for advice.

[elainsgirl]

I didn’t like Lucien ever since that one scene in ACOMAF where Feyre tells him that she doesn’t just want to be tamlins wife and plan parties, make menus, and pick flowers and he had the nerve to tell her that’s what every mortal girl wants. Like, seriously? And what really solidified my dislike is him doing absolutely nothing when Julian made a r@pe joke about elain… Lucien really is beron’s son and elain deserves better. But since he’s witty and charismatic with a tragic backstory, he’s coddled in the fandom..

Say what you like about Azriel (who right now has the personality of bread), but he never would’ve sat back and allowed another person to make such a joke about any woman, let alone someone he’s supposed to care for and protect. We see how he reacted to tamlin slut shaming Feyre. He would’ve definitely put Julian in his place - but Lucien much rather pretend he didn’t hear anything and not rock the boat.

I find that it’s interesting how outspoken he is with Feyre but he is rather quiet when it comes to men. People seem to forget Feyre is very young - in her twenties. Lucien has seen her as a mortal, he has seen her weak. He has no problem getting angry with her and lashing out. In fact, when he got angry with Rhys - who did he go to? Feyre, a twenty year old woman. But he never said a word to Rhys.

People call Rhys and the ic misogynistic but say nothing when Lucien attributes the same characteristics. Personally I think it can be argued that the many if not all characters in ACOTAR are misogynistic if only because SJM is misogynistic so let’s not pretend Lucien is an any way superior than the bat boys.

Lucien not punching or even attacking Jurian whilst he made such disgusting comments made me officially dislike him. “Oh but he couldn’t attack or say anything to jurian bcs of blah blah blah” stfu. I want a man that goes crazy whenever someone insults or suggests such a thing about his woman, not one who shows “restraint”. Lucien is coddled bcs he’s been through so much (literally everyone has) and bcs we haven’t seen enough of his flaws therefore its easier to pity him.

Azriel would have attacked Jurian without hesitation if he made that statement in front of him - that’s what you call a man, a man thats worthy of Elain. Someone who wont sit back and let someone else make such degrading comments to the one he loves/wants. Lucien showed restraint….booorrrinnng. Not what I or in fact many other people want in a romance.

Lucien isn’t superior to anyone. He has his flaws, just like any other male character. He’s definitely overhyped and overrated- it was definitely interesting that none of his moments made it into the brackets despite his “popularity” 🤭

[peachhcs]

can you do one where samy and will go to a party in Michigan and Samy gets super drunk and when they get back to her apartment it is just her and will and he is helping samy and she is throwing up and he is helping her and then the next morning she is hungover

i think this ask is from like last summer or close to it (eek so sorry). i've been looking through my asks and landed on this one as i try to answer old ones

i always feel like whenever will and samy go out, he never gets super drunk so he's still sober enough to get them home and take care of samy (also so she never has to worry and can just have fun) -- takes place sometime...this past school year when will comes to visit

au masterlist

the senior hockey house was lively. considering how popular the boys were on and off the ice, their house was always packed anytime they threw a party. it was mostly the girls who tried getting in to talk up one of the players which was always a gamble if they were successful or not because most of the hockey boys were there to have fun.

samy weaved her way through the crowd in search of her boyfriend. she kept getting stopped by someone who wanted to talk to her, so her efforts to find him turned into a 30 minute adventure. there was always a familiar face around the corner like a classmate, a hockey boy, or her soccer teammates that wantd to talk and considering samy got super chatty whenever she was drunk, she always stopped to have a conversation.

will decided to just go to her since he didn't know nearly enough people to get stopped every 5 minutes. he finally found her in the living room talking with tj and tyler. the blonde smiled and silently touched her arm so he didn't startle or interrupt the conversation. the brunette caught his gaze and interrupted herself anyway to greet him.

"ooh, hi baby. i promise i was coming to find you. i got stopped sooo many times," the girl chuckled. the boy's smile grew.

"i figured. that's why i just came to you instead," he kissed her temple. tyler and tj smiled at the affection. at this point, everyone was so used to samy and will that hardly anyone really teased them anymore (besides their closest friends). they were really just "mom and dad" status now.

"i was just telling ty and tj about your season and how you scored like soo many goals in your rookie season," will quickly blushed at the praise.

he never had to worry about leaving samy be at parties because well 1. he trusted her and 2. she just talked about him to everyone she interacted with anyway. he was the same way too, any party he was at in san jose he just talked about his girlfriend the whole time. mack definitely got sick of hearing him yap on about her.

"oh really?" the hockey player chuckled.

"i mean, duh. i gotta brag about you. he's so humble," the brunette smacked his chest and will's smile had never been bigger.

"i honestly can't believe you're a pro now. makes me miss our dev program days," tyler chuckled.

"don't remind me. it goes fast, man. i honestly can't believe it either. i feel like i'm dreaming sometimes still," will admitted.

"i mean you deserve it. you were a fucking beast out there. still are," hearing those words from former teammates made the rookie flush. sometimes when he doubted himself he just remembered how proud his former teammates were of him and why he did this—for them.

"geez, thanks ty. i appreciate that. you are too," the boys continued their small talk while samy finished what was left in her cup. she was buzzing, probably on her 4th drink of the night..she lost count an hour or two ago.

whatever ethan and mark always bought was way better than the cheap alcohol her and hannah got for their wine nights. it got samy drunk pretty fast and she was already tipsy when they got there because her and hannah pregamed with samy's soccer teammates. there were great perks to being friends with the senior hockey players because she always got her friends an in.

tyler and tj let the couple have a moment together since will came over to originally find samy. the girl grinned up at him and will couldn't help but smile back. "hi, pretty."

"hiii, how are you?" she grabbed onto him and he caught her before she stumbled over.

"how are you? drunk?" will could smell the smirnoff on her breath mixed with some type of berry.

"likee yeah. i'm good though. i'm sorry i didn't make it to you sooner. soo many people just wanted to stop and chat. you know me and talking," the brunette giggled.

"i know, you love talking. you think it's maybe time to go?" the shark's rookie wondered just because it was almost 1 in the morning and he knew samy well enough that he knew when she needed to go to bed and stop drinking before she started throwing up.

"okayyy, we can go. i better say bye to hannah and make sure she has a way to get home. and mark and eth so they know i'm leaving," samy determined and will nodded.

"okay, let's find them," with will being taller, he could see through the crowds of people better than samy.

he took her hand to lead her through the house in hopes of finding one of the three people she listed. however, samy was talking to every single person she walked by, sometimes trying to stop completely, but will kept pulling her along.

they found hannah first. she was talking with a few of her gymnast friends, immediately grinning when she saw will and samy.

"hey guys!" the brunette exclaimed.

"hannah!! hey!!" samy jumped into her roommates arms.

"hi pop. what's up?" hannah laughed when she caught the girl.

"will says we're leavinggg. are you getting home okay?"

"yeah, i'll be good. i might go back with georgia and farah," hannah pointed to the two girls beside her.

"you might or you will?" will always needed to confirm the getting home plans.

"she will. we'll get her home okay, don't worry," farah smiled kindly. mark's girlfriend was basically the mom of the group, so she aways made sure the girls made it back home safely. will trusted her and nodded.

"text us," he reminded hannah who nodded.

"will do. take care of her," she giggled down at her roommate again and passed her back to the boy.

mark and ethan weren't far. they were in the kitchen with mostly their teammates now since people were starting to leave. mark spotted the couple first knowing the look meant they were leaving.

"ooh, whats this?" samy spotted a cup of something and picked it up faster than will could stop her. she took a few sips of it before immediately coughing and making a face of disgust.

"hey, don't drink that. i think you've had enough," will took it from her and handed it over to mark who stepped in.

"you guys leaving?" the older boy wondered.

"yeah, i'm gonna take her home. great party, thanks for having us," will nodded.

"you're good to walk her?" mark confirmed and the blonde nodded.

"i'm sure. i'm not even that drunk."

"okay, let one of us know if there's any problems. get back safe," the boys fist bumped.

will took samy by the arm to lead her to the front door. the girl was giggly as they walked, claiming he was tickling her. "baby, that tickles!" she giggled.

"i'm not tickling you, i promise," will hummed.

he would let her go, but he also learned that samy was a runner when she was drunk. if he let go, she'd 100% take off down the street and he did't want her doing that, especially at 1 in the morning.

"do you hate me?" sometimes samy's topic changes gave him whip lash.

"no, why would i hate you?"

"i dunno. you just suddenly decide to hate me?"

"i would never do that, i promise. i love you," the blonde smiled and kissed her cheek again. samy blushed.

"i love you. i love, love, love you."

these were basically their walks home on nights out. samy yapped on about anything that came to her mind and will just listened. he held her arm or her hand to make sure she didn't run off. when will wasn't around to do this, it was usually hannah, mark, ethan, or moldy walking the girl home.

"i'm so drunk right now," samy stated blankly.

"you did drink a lot tonight. you'll probably have a killer hangover tomorrow," will chuckled.

"ugh, don'ttt say that. i can't even think about that right now," the soccer player shook her head.

after another 10 minutes, they were back in samy's apartment. samy kicked her shoes off, feeling a bit more sober after the walk, but the slowing down was making all of the alcohol catch up with her. she was running to the bathroom before will could even process her leaving until he heard the sounds of her yacking in the toilet.

he quickly went to her. she was bent over the toilet, so will pulled her hair back before she threw up in her hair. he tried pretending she wasn't throwing up because his stomach was not that strong to begin with,

"get it all out, baby," he comforted, rubbing her back in soothing circles.

samy threw up 3 more times. whatever was in that random cup she picked up must've been strong in addition to the four or some drinks she had. will flushed the toilet and helped the girl to her feet.

"what do you need? water? food?"

"probably water," the hughes sister mumbled.

will went to the kitchen while samy splashed her face with water from the sink to refresh herself. the throw up definitely sobered her up a bit more, so she was becoming more aware of herself and her surroundings. her boyfriend returned a moment later with a fresh cup of cold water. he leaned against the doorframe to watch her drink it.

"sorry..i definitely went too hard," the brunette flushed.

"don't apologize. you had fun," will quickly shook his head.

he took the cup back from her when it was empty. his next job was helping the girl brush her teeth. he followed her routine—securing her hair back with a headband, wetting the toothbrush before putting the toothpaste on, finding her makeup remover. will had this down to a science.

samy loved turning her brain off whnever her boyfriend was around to take care of her, but as he brushed her teeth for her, she couldn't help but admire him. he was just soo pretty in her eyes, so handsome, so good looking. his little curls were peeking out from under his hat that samy thought about twirling around her finger later.

"okay, spit," he said. she leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste out and rinse her mouth clean. the next task was her makeup, but that was easy when all the boy had to do was wipe her face off with the wipes.

he was gentle with it. he carefully wiped at her face to get the mascara, foundation, blush, eyeshadow, and eyeliner off. "would younger you think you'd be in this spot right now?" samy asked, kind of thinking out loud as the alcohol wore off.

"what do you mean?"

"like..what would 11 year old us think of us right now?" the brunette giggled thinking of her younger self who absolutely despised the boy in front of her with all of her being.

"i would think younger will would scream cooties and make some snarky remark," the blonde smiled too.

"who would've thought.."

"wouldn't want it any other way though," the hockey player grinned. he threw the wipe out once he was finished and let samy look at herself to make sure he got it all.

"you're perfect at this," she grinned.

they made their way to her room. samy was sober enough to find herself clothes to change into so will dug through his bag for a pair of sweatpants and a different t-shirt. the couple changed and will went to find tylenol and another glass of water for his girlfriend in the morning.

samy climbed right into her bed, glad to be in bed after the long night. will returned with the pills and the same glass he gave her earlier.

"for tomorrow morning," he motioned to the nightstand. samy smiled.

"you're so nice to me."

"i try," will laughed. he climbed into the bed a second later, reaching for the light on his way down to the pillow.

samy scooted close to him knowing how warm he got and how cold she was at the moment despite the blankets on top of them. the boy wrapped his arms around her and samy found his little curls like she knew she would. playing wih his hair was one of her most favorite things to do.

"i love you," she whispered.

"i love you more. sleep well," will hummed.

"thanks for always taking care of me. it means a lot," will's taken care of her for as long as she could remember after nights out and it definitely wasn't going to change anytime soon.

the couple was fast asleep within minutes of one another. will's steady heartbeat put the girl to sleep and her fingers threading through hs hair was what had the hockey player slipping into a deep sleep.

[alfalfascouting]

The youtube auto-transcript struggles with the audio quality, and so too will many listeners, I imagine. And not having found any other transcript of this speech, I have endeavored to write my own, even though I know nothing about Don Quixote. I hope it helps anyway. Corrections on who he asks to give him his sword are welcome. Transcript follows:

By contrast: How do you sell to people at the bottom end of the scale? How do you even tell them that your game exists? Advertise on nightly news? I mean, these people don't read any of the regular magazines, they don't log onto CompuServe every 35 minutes, they're—These people, the way they buy games, they wander into the computer store once a year to get a new ribbon for their dot matrix printer. They get lost in the store and they stumble into the games section. And they say, "Oh gosh! Computer games, that's right. You know, I haven't played a game, in, ah, 2 years! Maybe I oughta buy one. Let's see. Oh look! Here's a pretty box! 'Harpoon!' That's a—(drowned out by crowd laughing)—I think I'll buy it. I'll bet it's about whales." How do you sell to these people!?

You know, and these people here—(holds hand high)—these are the ones you sell to because they tell you what they want. Designing for the bottom crap—(throws hands down)—it's hit or miss. You spend a half a million dollars on a game, if they don't like it, they won't even tell you they don't like it; they just won't buy it. But these people—(holds hand high)—Boy, try to stop them from telling you. They'll send you letters. They'll fill out the feedback form, send you email. They'll call you up in the middle of the night to tell you what's wrong with your game and how to make it better. These people! (holds hand high) Boy, it's easy to figure out what they want.

And what do they want? They want more depth. Yeah. They've invested a lot of money and a lot of time climbing that ladder. And they don't want to throw away that investment. They don't want to start all over on a new ladder. They want to keep climbing the ladder. They want to go higher and higher. They want more depth in their games. And think about how that compares to my dream. 'Cause I want to encompass the broad range of human experience and emotion. (holds his arms wide) What I want is breadth. (raises one hand high) What the customers want is depth. I am at cross purposes with my audience. And there's only one conclusion I can draw.

I have to leave. I don't fit in here anymore.

Now, I realize that's, ah… That's kinda strange. But you know, many years ago, I left the crowded cities of the eastern seaboard, fought cross the Appalachian mountains and came upon the virgin forests of Kentucky. There, I built myself a cabin and I hunted the dragon. I wasn't very good back then. I only bumped into him at night by chance. And then my encounters with him were brief and desperate; I'd wave my sword frantically and hear his claws hissing through the air, and then he would be gone. And I was learning. It was fun.

And then more people came. Hearty pioneers, they built cabins near mine. And pretty soon we had a lot of cabins. Pretty soon we had a village there with lots of houses. And then more people came until now… now we have a town. With stores, and people being busy, and streets, and property lines, and lawyers and…! This place has gotten too damn civilized for me.

I mean… I just don't fit in. So I hoist my backpack onto my shoulders and I walk down the main street one last time. I wave goodbye to a few old friends, but most of the faces I see belong to strangers. They look askance at me and turn to their neighbor and say, "Who is that scruffy old tramp anyway? I'm glad he's leaving town. We don't need his kind in our town."

At the edge of town I turn and look back one last time. It's a good town. I'm proud of the role I played in its creation. But out there, west, beyond the Mississippi, beyond the Great Plains, lays Rocky Mountain. There're no people there. Just rocks. Trees. Clear blue skies. And the dragon, he's there too. Waiting for me.

I can hear you saying, "Chris! This is crazy. I mean, you don't want to leave all this behind. You've got too much invested here. This is insanity!" And you know… You're right. (audience laughs) This is crazy. But let me tell you about another crazy old fool. Let me tell you about a guy by the name of Don Quixote de la Mancha.

You know, insanity is an inability to come to terms with reality. Don Quixote was definitely insane because he couldn't come to terms. But there was a reason. The reality in which Don Quixote lived was a sordid and ugly reality. The people were scrabbling for survival. Don Quixote didn't want that. He wanted to live in a world where there was truth and human dignity. And yeah, love. And try as he might, he couldn't accommodate that in the real world. Other people were able to compromise enough to reach an accommodation, but Don Quixote, for him, the gap was too great. He couldn't bridge it.

So instead of getting up on it, he imposed his reality on the real world. Where other people saw a filthy country hostel, he saw a castle. Where other people saw a flock of sheep, he saw a mighty army. Where other people saw a windmill, he saw a dragon. Yeah. Don Quixote was a crazy old fool. And you know, he was more honest about his dreams than most people. And for that, I honor him.

So, the time has come for me to make my commitment. I have committed myself. I have dedicated myself to the pursuit of the dragon. And having made that commitment, having decided that once and for all, now, all of a sudden, I can see him. There he is, right in front of me. As clear as day.

"I never thought that I would see you this clearly. I always saw you in brief glimpses in the dark. But now, now… You're so much bigger than I ever imagined! I'm not so sure I like this. I mean, yes, you're glorious and beautiful, but, you're ugly too. Your breath reeks of death. No, I… I never had a childish fantasy of conquering you. That thinking is for children. You're beyond that. Indeed I can see, stretched around your feet, the bodies of my predecessors. And all you have to show for it is a few nicks and scratches! But do you have to laugh at me that way? Am I so pitiful that you can sneer in my face like that? Yeah! Yeah, you frighten me! You hurt me! I felt your claws ripping through my soul! But I'm going to die someday, and before I can do that, I've got to fight you, eyeball to eyeball. I've got to look you right in the eye and see what's inside. But I'm not good enough to do that yet! I'm not experienced enough. So I'm going to have to start learning. Today. Here. Now. Come, dragon! I will fight you. Sancho Panza, my sword!"

(he draws a sword)

For truth! For beauty! For art! CHAAAAARGE! CHAAAARGE!!

(applause)

Finale of Chris Crawford’s Dragon Speech at GDC 1992

(Fun fact: Sid Meier is in the audience, seen in the bottom right corner  around 8:52)

[foxeyesky]

Nearly one year later,

and the veil between past and present has never felt so thin. The days have grown darker and colder, just like they did last November and every November before. I've no choice but to remember that tomorrow will be one year since the last time we ate together, the last time we held each other, the last time you kissed me, the last time we felt right.

The days that followed were restless with uneasy texts and merciless calls that broke my heart. Just eight days later, you walked out of my apartment and out of my life.

Nearly one year later, never further away from the moment I'm living in now. But here, sitting on the same couch in the same living room in the same evening light, shedding the same tears, it's as if the door just closed behind you.

e.k.

[spacegirlsgang]

DBD x Met Gala (1/4): Edwin Payne and Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination (2018)

[ace-malarky]

Happy Blorbo Blursday!

No question today, just give us a ramble about a character you don't usually get a chance to ramble about!

Beloved, I have so many characters I have never rambled about but also ok we're doing side characters with Relevance now so it's Drassa's turn

by the time of any story we see her in, she's a retired adventurer, well respected if distant member of society, definitely nobility if a bit strange, and

of course

our boy Jasper's mother

(and also the character I played in the game that spawned them both. No I don't know why Jasper then got the limelight but it's better this way because I can just allude to all of Drassa's stuff rather than having to write it)

Except! no one knows she is Jasper's mother because she is Unwed and Respectable and Surely Drassa Would Never so he's obviously just like. a foster child or a distant relative's because she is so Sweet and Noble, of course she would Help Out to give him a good start in life

but anyway. She starts life as like. almost a normal kid, actually! She's friendly, she has a family! There's no tragic backstory here, she's just kinda bored with it all. She just has a hankering for something more and, being stubborn and unwilling to listen to people telling her to cool her jets and also No, she just strikes out with whatever group is going and learns fast how to fake everything. She isn't a fighter but my god can she talk her way into and out of everything! In a world of elves and orcs and lizardfolk where they haven't quite forgotten that humans are only so many generations out of being colonisers, with no access to the magic of the world, she's got to be smart about it and she is. She moonlights as a thief for a little bit (this is how she meets her main party/friends) but rather than stealth, her strategy is to act like she owns the place and not give anyone an opening to suggest that she doesn't

Her main party/friends are a lizardfolk & elf couple who have their own enemies-to-lovers arc already sorted by the time they meet Drassa, and they become very ride-or-die in the... ten or so years that they hang out together. despite claiming that they themselves are retired at that point. they couldn't resist Drassa's charm either

I am still somewhat hazy on how she meets Jasper's dad. it was probably just for a good time! Jasper definitely wasn't planned! (and had she known about the curse, she probably wouldn't have gone there but my god she would have liked to have known before it all explosively comes to light)

but when she realises she's pregnant, she figures she's got to make sure the kid isn't like. caught in the little circle of enemies she's getting known by? So she enlists her friends to help her get off world (fraud is committed), sets herself up as Rich Aristocrat (crimes are committed, but politely), and settles herself in for a life of refined ease. There is absolutely never a moment where she goes "ha this kid is going to be someone else's problem I'm too busy" she just fully adapts to being a single parent

but ok yes, she's looking after a kid and settling into her place in society with her big house and her garden and the servants that she pays to help out when she has to, and as Jasper grows up she finds she's just. she's missing it all! She wasn't aiming for retirement this early, but she's got a kid, man, and by god is he going to grow up in safety and with the freedom to get into whatever the fuck he wants!

so she might still be doing some light facilitating and blackmail and information gathering on the side. Oh I need to write in her and Nuvian knowing each other, that's a necessity. You know she's working with our travelling crime merchant! He's definitely fencing stuff for her!

and she doesn't exactly keep this quiet from Jasper & Llinos but I think they're definitely mostly laboring under the idea that she's retired (or at least only still has like the vaguest of historic links to it all), so when they come back to find that her past has come back to bite, they're a little surprised to find that she's holding her own in whatever form the fight has taken haha

Tamhas and Tadhg do not know any of it, and this is for everyone's safety. It's bad enough that they wriggled their way into crime as it is, but at least it's where Drassa can keep an eye on them. This is why they panic when they realise that Drassa is in trouble, and like while she appreciates the back up it was not entirely necessary! She'd got herself out of tighter fixes before and she'll do it again

[lizardho]

Before I knew I was bisexual I was just insanely dramatic and weird around guys I liked. I had a crush on this guy in my ward - he was older than me, he played bagpipes and had a cheerful dog and an old Volkswagen bus that he worked on all the time. He also had nice scruff and unnaturally attractive hands and a good sense of humor, so I was like FULLY smitten.

I talked about him a lot and about how he was just so dang COOL, dang it, because he was so frickin’ cool. And I really liked him. I thought he was funny and smart and interesting and cool and fascinating and a bunch of other weird feelings I barely had the attention span to think about (I think my ADHD may have prevented me from coming out for a while tbh).

One day, I’m like 14-15, his dad is called to be my Sunday School teacher. His dad is this ex-military hardass with a chip on his shoulder for absolutely no reason and unattainable standards for his children. He spent most of Sunday School talking shit about his eldest boy and how he was rebellious and didn’t listen to him and how that was going to make him a bad adult and a bad son forever. How his son was too lazy and unmotivated to be successful because he didn’t listen to his advice on how to read the scriptures. He complained about how our generation was too weak to do things right and that our generation would surely be the one that brought the world’s downfall because of our laziness and sin.

And like, first of all, that guy can already go fuck himself for that. To clarify, that’s already stupid. BUT. He was talking about the man I had uncomfortable dreams about at least once a month. I couldn’t stand it. I’d get so mad I’d go home shaking sometimes because how fucking DARE he insult his hardworking stunning son by calling him lazy? For not reading the Bible the way his dad wants? When he’s already spending his time learning bagpipes? And fixing cars? And being cool? And cute? Who the fuck even cares if he uses the footnotes in the Book of Mormon? Who gives a rotten rat’s ass if he doesn’t use the scripture study manual his dad uses? He’s so cool he doesn’t even need it? So fuck off?

And eventually I got fucking Sick Of It and decided to mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean skip class. I’d just not go. And after a bit, adults started noticing and bugging me about it. At first, this was put off by small talk and excuses, but as my absence from Sunday School became more well-known, my excuses began to be rejected.

“Oh, Lizard, why aren’t you in class?” Uhm idk because my Sunday School teacher is mean to his kid and that makes me so mad wtf do you want from me? 🫠🤔

“Where’s your class, I’ll go with you!” Oh no ty I’d rather peel my own eyes than have my taste in men critiqued tyty 🩷

“Lizard, you should go to class, I’m sure they miss you!” And I miss the innocent days where my stomach didn’t hurt when a cool boy I knew was being belittled but unfortunately for us both those days are LONG gone and all that’s left is a budding psychosexual clusterfuck that will render me almost fully incapable of functioning for the better part of a decade so Bye Bye, sister Smith 🙂‍↕️

It had gotten to the point that ward leadership was involved. I was being approached by members of the Young Men’s presidency and the Bishopric to try and make me to back to class. They were telling me God had told them to find me and instruct me on my rebelliousness. This is where I implemented my secret weapon - women. Mormons are weird as hell about a lot of things, but especially about women. And I was GREAT with women. So to combat the leadership’s attention, I started helping women.

Our ward had a lot of new moms with babies who were, as babies tend to be, fussy. But for Mormon women the church is often their only social outlet, so they try to power through as long as they can even if it means enduring the exhausting ordeal of taking care of a fussy baby at church.

For what it’s worth, I have a lot of sway with babies. I got baby street cred. Me and babies have a rapport. I have always known this. I have always loved this. And in this crucial gay time in my faggot life my baby mind powers came in clutch - Every time I saw a member of the bishopric getting close, or a young men’s leader giving me side-eye, I’d start walking slowly towards class, passing by relief society. I’d wait until a mom’s baby had gotten too fussy and needed to leave the room, and I’d swoop in like a knight. “Oh, don’t you worry sister, I’ll bounce him a bit. You go back and hang out with your friends in class. You deserve a break.”

If it was a diaper change or something they’d tell me no. But if it was just some good old-fashioned baby fusses, I mean, they’d be moved almost to tears. They just got their social time back AND a free babysitter who is renowned as the Baby Whisperer. And because I was holding a baby as a favor for someone else, I of course could not reasonably be bothered to return to class.

So just like that, I was out of everyone’s sights. This went on for about a month before the straw that broke the camel’s back, which was that without my class participation the classes were quiet and awkward. I’d often take the brunt of Sunday school lectures by answering questions impulsively and over explaining myself enough that the clock could run out without anyone needing to do or say much. My absence meant everyone else was getting hit with the full unpleasantness of this guy’s bullshit. And so slowly, one-by-one, I had a group of about 8 kids on baby-holding duty. These new moms were so overjoyed, they and their husbands were both so actively in our corner that now chastising us was untenable. Now we had bargaining power. So the Bishopric approached us, confused beyond confused and uncomfortable beyond uncomfortable, and said,

“What’s it gonna take to get you back to class?”

The POWER I possessed in that moment was addictive. By being kind to the women of the ward and ignoring the Mormon de facto Rule of Law of following rules en-masse so the rule breakers feel left out, there were now so many people breaking ranks that we had effectively enacted a church boy labor strike. And they crumbled so fast it was almost like we had swayed God himself to our cause.

“I want brother assholedad gone. He sucks at teaching.”

I didn’t even have to say it. One of my rebels said it for me. I just nodded sagely and said “Yes, his class is not edifying. It’s better to not go and hold babies.”

And just like that, with a snap of my limp-wristed, Christ-wounding, bottom-brained fingers my faggot will was enacted. God’s revelation that brother shitdad was his chosen Sunday school teacher flipped on a dime. Suddenly brother shitdad was asked to be an usher and the fun dad of another one of my crushes was called in to teach us. I still stayed to hold babies a lot, but the rest of the class returned and all was well again.

Although I didn’t recognize it then, I think that was a formative moment for me in a lot of ways. I learned that being really persistently annoying will get me what I want from authority eventually. I learned that God’s will can be swayed by going in strike. I learned that ignoring men’s made up authority forces them to level with you as a person. I learned that caring for women, especially vulnerable women, can make a whole world happier. I learned that letting women rest can help them feel more love for the things that matter in their life. I learned that social bonds make everyone stronger and happier. And I learned that loving others in a gay way can change the world.

Be gayer. Read Terry Pratchett. I love y’all 💕

[floral-hex]

going through old letters and cards today to see what I can throw away, mail I received when I lived in New York and never remembered to go through again until now, and I kept finding a) old school photos of my brothers, & b) letters my youngest brother wrote to me while I lived away from home, and… oof. I’m glad no one was around because I criiiiiiieeeeed so hard. Had to step away for awhile.

[yzzart]

⋆˙⟡ BOYFRIEND!DANTE ── HEADCANONS!

── content warnings: F!reader, mention of anime, Dante being needy, fluff, cute and light content and part two is here!

── word count: 653!

⭑.ᐟ Dante is always, ALWAYS, in contact with you and it doesn't matter where or when. — This is not an exaggeration, or a complaint, never. — Whether through physical touches or messages, SMS, — that man only uses his damn cell phone because of you and even though it's risky — he never lets you keep in contact.

“thinking about you right now ;)” “Dante, you only left about 5 minutes ago…?” “painful, isn’t it? do you believe i have an amazing joke ready? i need to tell you when i get back.”

⭑.ᐟ The demon hunter loves to snuggle up to you, to cling to you; being unable, and in his words, impossible, not to be close to you. — Well, that's his biggest weakness. — Dante always kept his hands around you, usually on your waist and caressing the region. — Like holding your hand, caressing your face and massaging your thigh.

⭑.ᐟ He loves receiving your attention, especially when he is between your boobs and receiving caresses, which make him fall asleep instantly. — you know this very well — However, there was one night, after a long and unbearable killing against beings from the underworld, Dante ended up falling asleep during one of the night conversations, which was your routine, and ended up drooling on your shirt.

⤷ The scene was…naive, also pitiful; your boyfriend was tired, he needed rest more than anything else. — And you, wanting to make him comfortable and pleasant, tried to get out of the position, which was to be underneath him, but an extremely sleepy and heavy Dante prevented your action and mumbled inaudible words — asking you to stay there, with him — and even without understanding, you obeyed.

⭑.ᐟ DDR — DanceDance Revolucion nights? This has become a routine worthy of you and Dante. — Every night, no matter what time it is, and even knowing that you have things to do the next day, this gentle game becomes a competition; Dante, without even caring who is in front, doesn't miss the chance to have fun with his girl.

"Come on, ma'am! Make me impressed, go, go!" + “It was with that swagger that you won me over, right, you smart little girl?” + “I can’t believe you beat me at my own game?”

“Shut your pretty mouth, big boy.”

⭑.ᐟ You are the only person, the only thing that can breathe, that can touch or question his necklace. — There is no discussion about that. — Dante trusts you, until his last breath, even though he has reason to distrust everyone and everything, he would never leave or abandon his loyalty and trust in you. — Out of fear, and respect and common sense, you don't dare to touch it on some occasions and Dante realizes this, he finds it funny, cute, pure; feeling loved and so cared for by you.

⤷ “There’s not a day, not a single day, that the memory of the day she gave me that necklace doesn’t cross my mind.” — Dante mentioned his mother, able to feel a small and unbearable burning in his eyes; he sighed, arranged you in his lap, directing a compassionate look in your direction as your fingers pass through the cord, without touching the amulet. — “And every day, i’m sure she would adore you.”

⭑.ᐟ Dante knows how to be a knight with you, and he really does. — Last piece of pizza in the box? He makes a point of leaving it for you, and that's a high-class knightly role in his eyes. — Even living such a complicated life, working with something so violent and filthy, he can't help but indulge his girl in a few whims.

⤷ Little writings on small pieces of old newspaper, which he left in his pants or jacket pocket, telling some joke or unfunny pick-up line and decorations are typical of Dante. — Teaching you to play pool and then beating him and your prize are moments of grabbing? Oh, Dante is a lucky boy.