#why is it always the ARTS that fucking suffer

[twistedappletree]

THIS CITY IS SO FUCKING FAKE “ohhhh we pride ourselves in being an art hub, look at our hundreds of galleries owned by rich white people who don’t even fucking live here and pushed out all the native artists because money talks, aren’t we impressive??? 🤪”

BUT RIGHT NOW MY CIRCUS SCHOOL IS BEING THREATENED WITH EVICTION BC THE GENERIC CORPORATE PLUMBING BUSINESS NEXTDOOR WANTS TO BUY THAT SPACE WHEN THEY ALREADY RENT OVER HALF THE GODDAMN BUILDING

omfg i’m literally losing my mind. the ONE fucking place where kids and young adults can go to express their creativity and learn cool skills regardless of skill and income and they’re gonna lose it because of a fucking greedy ass business who doesn’t give 2 fucks and a pussy ass landlord who only sees 💸💸💸💸

i’m mad i’m mad i’m fucking LIVID ALKSLQKDLAKDKAKS

[bread-is-my-life]

Winter stainmight, winter stainmight! ❄️

Plus a comic

A silly headcanon of mine that is 100% canon/j is that Stain always has some spare pair of gloves with him ONLY because Toshi always forgets his 😭 I think after a while it will just become an ordinary thing for them. Just a small moment of Stain caring for Toshi hehehfd :3

[layraket]

silly fast drawing of CG!Wild with his sheikah-paw bc yeah

planning on doing some sort of comics with these guys to tell what i have in mind for them but first i need to get the ideas turn to words

[pastel-rights]

And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.

[bumpscosity]

Vince I will always love you….. (she/he/they/it)

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in��Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[doppel-doodles]

That illustration is making me want to slam my head against solid concrete, Art block said no, and I know when to pick my battles so fuck it we ball-

A normal post about Matthew Hallard from Poppy Playtime

I briefly mentioned this in the Jack post, the fact that I didn't think I had anything new or particularly interesting to say on Matthew as I always thought the Fandom had a lot of the bases covered.

But the more I actually thought about him, the more I wanted to talk about one thing in particular:

Let's talk about Doeys tape.

In game we find a vhs tape recorded by Doey, talking about how he almost ditched everyone in favor of running away, ultimately deciding to go back for them instead. It reveals a lot about how he truly feels about the responsibility that has been given to him.

I think it was so important to include this and the reason why is quite simple:

It humanises Matthew for me.

Why I point him out specifically is due to reasons I mentioned in my other analysis, Jack's control is mostly passive, Kevin only really comes to the forefront when he feels like there is a threat to assess or deal with and it has been confirmed that Matthew is the oldest of the children as well as having been a leader of sorts since he was still a human child, so in the tape it's basically him venting.

Which is great as it makes something crystal clear: He is not a perfect saint.

Matthew is a teenager who has been parentified from an incredibly young age, places immense pressure on himself, is suffering from more burnout than a college kid and not to mention the horror that is his current existence and life-

He doesn't WANT this responsibility, he only takes it on because nobody else will or can.

And nobody even thinks to ask him ONCE how HE is doing, no,no it's him who has to do that, he is not allowed to have breaks.

For godness sake he literally tells us in the tape that he is recording it because he feels like he can't talk to anyone about his problems!

The toys- The children having someone like Doey or more accurately Matthew is not a guarantee, it is a privilege but it's a privilege Matthew needs to!

And you rarely ever see kind characters COMPLAIN about having to be kind all the time, truly looking after everyone else drains you, it's exhausting to fulfill the needs of others, more often than not you'll have to put aside your own and when you really pull the shit end of the stick you get more complains then appreciation for your troubles.

It is such a CHORE and I think a character struggling with being so selfless actually can have such a massive impact instead of just being able to handle everything, it's that tiny bit of realism I love.

Despite how exhausted and miserable Matthew was over being stuck in this position in the end he turned back. Because he loves his friends that much, and he should get massive props for that.

And to think he still did so much but didn't think anything he did was good enough is just painful, like no honey you are enough, more than enough-

Also Poppy having once been the leader makes you think that maybe Matthew might have been hurt the most by her disappearing.

Like her leading was the closest thing to a break he ever got- and then she just up and disappears?? And it's all up to him now? Not to mention the concern? The worry??

Boy it speaks volumes that he doesn't seem to display more hostility towards her considering Poppy doesn't even EXPLAIN herself on why she left or why she couldn't come back.

He is even civil in discussing the fact that she demands for them to be okay with being blown up(also correct me if I'm wrong but didn't Poppy also include in her plan that SHE will get to live? If I heard that I would be flabbergasted.) But that's something I should discuss in another post.

For now that is everything I have about my boy, if you want to see what I have to say about other characters here is Kevin annnnnnd Jack, plus some extra stuff on Doey

[diushek]

Well, he (user: HeavenlyPillar666) is just a guy who only reads a webnovel out of boredom after his martial arts classes and finds himself unfortunately trapped- the plot is uninteresting in the first instance, the descriptions are long and absurd (SERIOUSLY, FIVE PARAGRAPHS TO DESCRIBE A DAMN PLANT? TEN PARAGRAPHS TO DESCRIBE A MONSTER? More action scenes than dialogue!? Who the hell is that IcedBlueBeast and why the hell does he insist on making everything SO DENSE AND SLOW?), but... one of his characters? DEFINITELY HIS FAVORITE CHARACTER IN THAT HORRIBLE WORLD. HIS MISUNDERSTOOD BLORBO. HIS BELOVED.

In a summary not summarized, a story about two twin brothers who were separated at birth, and both found their way to cultivation world in different ways. Reunited first like disciples and then Peak Lords of different peaks of the same sect, suddenly, the brother who remained with his wealthy family - Shen Yuan - was seen as something of a villain for having had kind and lovely parents, a home and an education, always portrayed as the spoiled rich kid who bought his way into the Sect, while the REAL SCUM VILLAIN ACCORDING TO HEAVENLYPILLAR666, that bitch Shen Jiu who was stolen from his family and raised as a slave and then on the streets, ended with basically a harem of peak lords, fanning himself with his fourth-rate victim role.

And the rest of that pathetic novel it's just... shit full of dramas, betrayal and eternal descriptions being an ode to finding the hundreds of ways in which Shen Yuan's inherent kindness was misinterpreted as manipulation, judged and accused of wanting to do something bad just because he comes from a rich and well-off background.

And how it should be fair after all that gaslighting and psychological torture, Shen Yuan finally agree with them!

Crack under the pressure and the mistreatment of everyone, he just decide that if everyone thought he was a villain, then he was one!!

Allying with the demons first as an informant spy and then rising to power among the court, he ended up being something like a emperor-demonic cultivator eager for revenge and proving that no matter where he came from, he would show them what he was capable of! If the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect believed that a powerful cultivator was only forged through hard work and suffering, look at him now!

So all that good revenge plot would go to shit with Shen Yuan start to fucking monsters in scenes that were almost fade to black despite the deep descriptions and CHEMISTRY between the passionate Shen Yuan and the mythical creatures to have more power for the revenge that never seemed to come... To end with a completely unsatisfying shitty ending in which Shen Yuan gave up his revenge for filial love and the power of forgiveness, giving his own life to save his fucking damnit brother's life!

Where was the cruel revenge?! The taking over of the world?! HeavenlyPillar666 is RAGING, more than anyone else in all those damn comments!! Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel!!!!!

...

Yea, the user HeavenlyPillar666 shouldn't have said that while choking on his damn glass of water. It's not that he thinks he could die by drowning in a glass of water, LITERALLY. That's ridiculous. It's the height of ridiculousness.

But now he is dead, and he has transmigrated into one of Shen Yuan's less filial disciples who would ultimately be the person who would hurt him the most when he turned his back on him, after having been practically raised and adored by Shen Yuan, this damn disciple who always treating his Shizun with contempt and disdain knowing his invented reputation, but despite that, he was so dear to Shen Yuan who more than once was capable of putting himself at risk for him...

No, nothing like that!! No more of that trash!!! Shen Yuan deserves MORE, and the one who now is Luo Binghe is going to make sure Shen Yuan has all of it. A happy ending, a filial disciple, someone to count on, someone to stand up for him when no one else will. Someone by his side when he decides to destroy the cultivation world, someone to HELP HIM DO IT AND GET REVENGE ON ALL THOSE ASSHOLES SONS OF A B-

If only that fucking System would stop yelling at him for being OOC. Luo Binghe already knows!!! Fuck you System!! He's not going to respond that rudely to his Shizun, he is a beautiful little sun, what's wrong with you!?

[sobeksewerrat]

Hehe >:D

I wonder what it was like being a johnlock shipper in 1887. Imagine how much fanfiction and aus people created with their friends over tea or something that were later lost to history. You think some random teenager read the first novel then started doodling how they imagine the characters on random napkins or whatever scraps of paper they found. You think someone who was feeling upset would daydream about them and make up little scenarios where they'd live in that world for a moment, just to escape everything. You think that back when the Holmes short stories where being published in the strand someone would just be giggling excitedly and kicking their feet in private at every update. You ever think about what it was like to be like us in the 1800s.

Hey fuck you for making me emotional .

[artdcnaldson]

yknow those wives who have affairs with men they meet at the gym? yea so that but its art fucking the pretty, young thing from the yoga class his trainer signed him up for. something about mindfulness and old joints, honestly art wasnt listening, too busy thinking about how embarrassed he would be trying to do yoga in a public gym, a nice gym, but public nonetheless. but the first time he goes he picks the matt next to yours, youre no professional but youre a hell of a lot better than he is, as is everyone else but he's not looking at them. you end up chatting afterwards and it just kind of become routine for you to share those classes when you're both there. grabbing a juice together afterwards. and before either of you really understand whats happening, juice turns to lunch, one class a week turns to 3 or 4, a cup of coffee on the weekend turns to regular dinners. and suddenly he's fucking you in the back of his car in the parking lot of your building, all the yoga really paying off with the ways he's bending you trying to make it work in the cramped space. he was really just going to drive you home, like he always does, but you're just so pretty and he swears he saw tashi texting a number with the name "p" last night... so he kisses you and then hes rutting into your pussy, begging oyu to cum around him, let him feel your pussy get tight like that, strangle his cock.... many a thought

-🐞

GODDDDD <3 <3 <3

He isn't going to cheat, he isn't going to cheat, he is NOT going to cheat. It runs through his mind every fucking class after that first one. He's there to improve mobility, to help him get out of his head and be mindful, to kick the horrible anxiety that he's developed since the injury, that's worsened since New Rochelle.

He's not there for you. Even if you're the only person there he talks to. Even if he looks forward to seeing you every morning when he wakes up. Even if he suffers through gross pressed juice after each class because it means more time with you.

You make him happy, in a way he hasn't felt in a really long time. Desirable, interesting, worthwhile. You smile at him across the table when you go out for lunch, and sometimes you duck your head to hide giddy little smiles when he says something sweet. He'll reach across the table and his fingers will brush against your hand, and you won't move away. Your fingers stretch out, feel his, and that's good, that's fine.

It's not cheating. Coffee on Saturday mornings when there aren't any classes scheduled isn't cheating. Texting with your name replaced with a single letter to be discreet isn't cheating. Getting dinner isn't cheating. Watching movies together in your cute little apartment isn't cheating.

Surely Tashi knows. But why would she care when she's got a secret of her own? He know's she's texting Patrick. She has been since the challenger, working out the minutiae of what her coaching him will entail, and it makes Art's stomach turn. That incessant buzzing in his ear like a gnat, the constant question of if Patrick is fucking his wife. Again.

Art had said he would try. He would try to keep playing past the open, and he'd try to fix their marriage. But that was an optimistic promise made in the aftermath of a great fucking game of tennis. It wasn't until later that the resentment and anxiety reared its ugly head.

And then there's you. You don't watch tennis, you don't care about his ranking, you don't expect anything of him. All you expect of him is the pleasure of his company. And god, you look so sweet, sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep. For the past ten minutes, you’ve been rambling on and on about the new show you started watching, how you swear he'd like it, really.

"You're quiet," you say once he's pulled into the parking garage and killed the car. You reach across the center console and put a hand on his arm. "Everything okay?"

No. He's thinking about Tashi and Patrick. Of a text that flashed across her screen that morning from a contact that's just P, "when are you telling art?" He's thinking about affairs, about how he wants one thing to himself, and why can't that be you?

So he kisses you, and you can feel the desperation and need in the rough press of his mouth against yours, in the slow lave of his tongue, licking into your mouth like he wants to savor the taste of you. And you just take it, moaning into his mouth, soft and pretty.

"You're married," you pant as you both climb into the backseat. You say it like you haven't been craving this exact moment since you first saw him walking into the class with an overfull gym bag and a plain gray mat slung over one shoulder. You say it because if you don’t, you’ll feel worse.

But he just silences you with another hungry, desperate kiss that you return in kind. You paw at his shirt, trying to tug it off without breaking the kiss. Art laughs against your mouth and sits back on his heels to peel it off.

He likes the way you look up at him, like he’s the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s never felt that from anyone before, never felt like much more than a second choice. A consolation prize. Your hand is small, sliding along the plane of his chest, dipping down to his abs. It’s like you’re marveling at him, appreciating his body the way you’d appreciate a work of art.

Your hand slides down and you palm him almost timidly, feeling the hard length of him in your palm. He groans, a low, masculine sound that makes heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. You’ve heard something similar, when he’s stretching out a particularly tight muscle, or when you’re doing partner poses in yoga class— a hot, panted groan in your ear due to the proximity. But this is entirely new— addicting in the best way.

You don’t care that he’s married. Well, you do, but you just want him to be happy. You can make him happy— can give him something more than what he has. Doesn’t he deserve that?

Your clothes are shed quickly, easily. Peeled off smooth skin, discarded into the floorboard. All of your senses are flooded with Art’s hands, the way they grasp at your exposed skin, feeling, holding, possessing— His mouth, searing hot where he laves at your throat, over your tits. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and it makes you mewl. Arching into his touch.

“I want— fuck— I want to do so much to you,” he mumbles against your skin. He nips at the plush skin of your tits, promising bruises that will remind you in the morning you hadn’t just dreamt it all. “I just need to have you.”

You’d let him do anything. You’d let him carve you open and replace everything inside with him, him, him. And he does, in a way. When he lines up with your cunt and drives in, burying himself deep inside, it feels like he’s all that’s left of you.

The car rocks on its axels as he fucks you, deep and slow. It drives gasps and moans from your lips each time he bottoms out, when you feel his cock deep in your cunt, when his balls press tight against your body.

Art moans a desperate, masculine sound, his breath coming hot. The windows fog, dripping condensation in slow trails. “I think I love you,” Art groans, the words slipping out as he gets closer and closer and closer.

He’s married. He’s probably only saying it in a fuckdrunk haze. It’s a bad decision, you’d both regret it in the morning.

“I love you,” you tell him, softly. Earnest as he’s ever heard it said. He cums hard, grinding slow and deep so it’s as deep as possible.

He walks you to the door, kisses your cheek, tells you he’ll see you at the studio soon. When he gets home, he doesn’t tell Tashi, but she can sense it on him. The secret seeps from his pores. Good for him. It’s about time he does something for himself.

His next tournament is beautiful— his best tennis in a while. And maybe it’s best for Tashi to turn a blind eye while Art’s winning again. Maybe.

[runninriot]

for @stervrucht

inspired by this beautiful art piece

-----

"Don't!"

Eddie's hand on his chest makes him stop instantly.

"Please, just- just don't."

Steve doesn't know what to say, can only stare at the boy in front of him, his friend, Eddie.

Eddie, who just told him he's in love with him. Said it like he meant it, so why would he stop Steve from leaning in to kiss him?

"I don't want you to do something you'll regret just because you feel the need to make it better for me, Stevie. I know you don't want this. And I don't want your pity, okay? So, please, let's just pretend I never said that."

Oh, right.

It's because he doesn't know.

Eddie doesn't know about the weeks he spent suffering, struggling to come to terms with the fact that FUCK, he has feelings for his best friend. His male best friend.

He doesn't know about the endless nights Steve had been losing sleep after realising that the way his heart always starts to race whenever they're close actually means something.

That the way his stomach always feels like it houses a thousand butterflies when Eddie looks at him with his dark brown eyes and his beautiful smile means that- yeah, shit, Steve's in love.

He's so in love with him it hurts. But Eddie doesn't know.

"Eddie, I-"

"Don't worry, Steve. It's okay, really."

He retreats his hand from where Steve can still feel the ghost of his palm lingering on his chest, turns to move, to walk away.

"Eddie, wait!"

He's already halfway out the door when Steve grabs him by his wrist to hold him back.

"Please, if you'd just listen to me!"

Steve is desperate, has so much to say, needs Eddie to hear what his heart has been trying to tell him for weeks now.

"I love you!"

"Steve, please don't do this to me."

Eddie doesn't even look at him, looks so defeated, so resinged.

"Did you hear what I said?" Steve asks, placing his free hand on the side of Eddie's face to force him to look up.

"I love you, Eddie. I was just too scared to tell you because I thought- I thought I'd never have a chance."

Steve can see in Eddie's eyes when the realisation hits him, knows that his words are slowly, finally sinking in.

"Y- you love me?"

"More than you know. More than I let myself believe was even possible."

It's a cheesy line and Steve knows it but it's true and it makes Eddie smile which is everything he could ask for.

Well, almost.

"So, now that you know, will you please let me kiss you?"

Eddie's smile only grows bigger and Steve's heart makes that weird thing it always does and the butterflies cause a whirlwind when suddenly, their lips find each other in the middle.

Eddie kisses him like he's never been kissed before and Steve knows in that moment that he'll never want to kiss anyone else ever again.

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

[bartonomy]

REGULUS BLACK AND THE ART OF LOVING A MADMAN ( WOMAN??)

PAIRING Regulus Black x Crouch!Fem! Reader

SYNOPSIS When you pick a fight with Mulciber (again), get hit with a particularly nasty hex (again), and land yourself in the hospital wing (again), Regulus has to work his usual charm on a professor to clean up your mess. Just another day in his fucking life.

CONTENT WARNING not proofread! ,crouch family slander, reader gets hurt, regulus getting pulled into things, fluff!!

WORD COUNT 1.8k

library.

Regulus Black regretted a lot of decisions in his life.

Most of them involved his family, some of them involved his choice of friends, and at least one of them involved that time Barty had convinced him to try a new spell that had made him vomit slugs for an hour. But on the top among his many regrets, the one that occupied his mind on a near-daily basis and might be the reason why his hair is greying at the ripe age of 16, was the fact that he had somehow, against all logic and reason, fallen in love with you out of all people.

And, unfortunately, the most insane person he had ever met.

“Stop them!” a first year yelled across the courtyard.

Regulus sighed deeply, already rubbing his temples. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake-”

He turned just in time to see you- his oh so lovely, brilliant and slightly deranged girlfriend- launching herself at Mulciber like a particularly homicidal pixie.

“Oh, brilliant,” Regulus muttered.

The duel had looked absolutely pathetic, if he was being honest. Spells were flying. Mulciber’s wand was raised, his face exasperated with anger and annoyance, while you looked totally unbothered, happy even, to be challenged. “You really want to do this, Crouch?”

“You looked at me funny,” you mused, as if that was a reasonable explanation. You showed no sign of actually doing any harm that day,he thinks, much to his surprise.

Merlin's buttocks, I'm getting too used to this mental buffoonery.

As if you could hear his thoughts (well, his steps weren't exactly quiet on the cobble stones), you added, "Care to repeat what you said about me and Barty as well, Mulci?"

Regulus let out a long-suffering sigh. Of course it about Barty. Barty Jr. could get away with murder in front of you, and you would still defend his honor as if he were some kind of noble martyr instead of an absolute menace.

For once, though, he wasn’t involved. He was sitting off to the side, watching the fight unfold with mild interest, completely unaware that his little sister was about to get herself hexed into oblivion on his behalf.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn't the truth, Black,” Mulciber was saying lazily to him. “And you know,” he drawled, twirling his wand between his fingers, “I always wondered how someone as uptight as Barty Sr. managed to spawn not one, but two utter disappointments.”

Regulus felt his girlfriend tense. Beside you, Barty went very still.

Mulciber smirked. “I mean, your brother’s already well on his way to becoming a Ministry disgrace. But you-” He let out a low whistle. “I don’t know if you’re worse because you’re reckless or because you don’t even realize it.”

Regulus sighed. Oh, for Merlin’s sake.

Barty scoffed, looking deeply unbothered. “Well, you would be an expert on family disappointments, Mulciber. How is your Squib cousin, by the way?”

Mulciber’s smirk faltered. His wand snapped up. That was it.

"Sectumsempra!"

You barely dodged it, eyes narrowing. “Alright, you little freak, where the hell did you learn-”

Regulus was already moving, pushing through the gathering crowd of Slytherins who had circled around, waiting for blood. “Protego!” Regulus flicked his wand just in time to deflect the bombarda that was just blasted- your spell, because of course you weren't backing down. No, you were going straight for the kill. “Reggie!” you whined. “I had him!”

“No, you didn’t,” Regulus said flatly.

“Mulciber, you have the nerve to continue this child's play,” Barty Jr. called from the sidelines. He didn’t sound particularly concerned. Mulciber smirked. “the little rat has nothing against me.”

He caught his girlfriend’s eye- “Don’t kill him." you just winked. And then, with a graceful, almost lazy movement, you flicked you wand. “Expelliarmus.”

Mulciber barely dodged. He fired back, sneering- “Stupefy!” You stepped casually aside, as if dodging wasn’t even an effort. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, love.”

Mulciber growled and raised his wand. “Depulso!” You twirled your wand midair defending yourself, as if the interaction was boring you immensely. The force of the impact barely even ruffled your hair.

Barty let out a mocking yawn. “Come on, Mulciber. You hex like a first year.” Mulciber’s face twisted with anger. “At least I have some dignity,” he spat. “Unlike your sister, who has none. It’s pathetic, really. A Crouch playing attack dog for a Black?”

Regulus’s jaw clenched. He looked at his girlfriend, and you were smiling, Not in a nice way. Oh, he was so done for.

You tilted your head, mockingly thoughtful. “You know what’s really pathetic, Mulciber?”Mulciber scowled. “What?”

You only flicked your wand. “Silencio.”

His mouth disappeared, where once his lips were, was now a blank canvas of skin. Mulciber’s eyes widened. He tried to speak- but only muffled words came out.

Barty burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s just cruel, tiger” Mulciber’s face twisted with rage. He furiously swiped his wand to counter the curse- but you didn’t let him. With one smooth, effortless motion, you fired another spell.

“Locomotor Mortis.”*

Mulciber stumbled. His legs went jelly-like, his knees buckling beneath him. Regulus exhaled. “Chéri, are you playing with your food?”

“Obviously.”

Mulciber seethed silently. He furiously gestured with his wand and you deflected the curse midair with zero effort. At this point, he was shaking with fury. His pride- his absolute refusal to lose to a damn Crouch-took over. His eyes flashed and he pointed his wand. A muffled “Confringo!” could be heard as red streaks came blasting towards you.

Regulus’s stomach dropped. The spell hit you square in the shoulder, sending you flying backwards with a sickening crack. “Bloody hell-” Regulus lunged forward, catching you just before you hit the ground.

Your robes were singed, your arm at an unnatural angle that would make a troll wince, and, of course, you were still trying to get back up. “ I swear to my ancestors souls, let me at him, Regulus, before-”

Regulus tightened his grip, pushing you down gently. “You are not dueling with a broken arm.”

You huffed. “I could still win.”

“You could also die,” Regulus snapped. He turned to Mulciber, eyes cold. “Are you quite finished?”

Mulciber raised his hands frantically, gesturing to you and back to barty as if to say 'Hey, she started it!'

Regulus didn’t argue. You had, in fact, started it. But that didn’t make this situation any less infuriating.

“Barty,” he called. “A little help?”

Said boy finally got up from his seat, leisurely strolling over like this wasn’t a life-or-death situation. He peered down at his sister with a critical eye, then shrugged. “You’ll live.”

You groaned. “That’s your concern?”

“You look fine to me,” he said cheerfully. “Besides, I think you got one good hit in." Regulus was going to lose his mind. “You are both insane,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” they said at the same time.

Regulus was already tired. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet. This was supposed to be a normal day. But no, his girlfriend had to pick a fight before 8 AM.

Merlin’s beard, this family was going to be the death of him.

Regulus was not built for this kind of stress. He ran a calloused hand through his pale face, cursing the gods for giving him a reckless bomb of a girlfriend when he once, pathetically, called upon them in his third year.

Meanwhile, Barty- who had been doubled over, laughing at Mulciber from the bed opposite the room, finally spoke, grinning.

“That was brilliant,” he told his sister. “Merlin, I love you. This is why you’re my favorite sibling.”

“You don’t have any other siblings,” Regulus pointed out dryly.

“Exactly!” Barty beamed.

On Godrick's balls, was he tired.

He sat next to your bed, watching as Madam Pomfrey fussed over your arm. The hex had done more than break the bone- it had burned through your sleeve (from your brand new robes, if you might add), leaving angry red scorch marks trailing down your shoulder.

You were delighted by this, and he was flabbergasted.

“I bet it’ll scar,” you said excitedly. “That’s wicked, am I right?”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. It’s not wicked. It’s downright idiotic.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, already immune to your nonsense. “You’ll be fine by morning, dear. But you’re staying here for now.”

That was fine. That was great, actually. What wasn’t great was the fact that Slughorn was already marching into the room, looking both concerned and exasperated.

Regulus immediately straightened, preparing himself for an hour (more like 10 minutes with the way that mustache of a man rambles) of scolding.

“Miss Crouch,” Slughorn sighed. “Another duel?”

“She started it,” Regulus said quickly, ever the dutiful boyfriend.

His girlfriend shot him a betrayed look. “Regulus!”

Slughorn shook his head. “Detention, I’m afraid.”

Regulus tilted his head, sliding into his usual charming demeanor. “Professor, surely you can’t punish someone who’s already suffered so much.”

Slughorn frowned. “She hexed Mulciber.”

Regulus offered a smile, smooth as silk, looking past the man to the occupied bed with said subject. “And he hexed her back. Quite viciously, I might add. The poor girl nearly lost consciousness in my arms. It was tragic, really.”

His girlfriend scoffed. “I was fine.”

Regulus nudged you sharply under the blanket. “You were barely breathing,” he said dramatically.

Slughorn looked hesitant. Regulus pushed harder.

“I carried her here myself,” he continued, voice just the right amount of pained. “Do you really think she deserves detention after such an ordeal?”

Slughorn sighed, rubbing his temples. “…Very well. But no more dueling.”

Regulus smiled, victorious. “Of course, Professor.” Slughorn gave them one last weary look before leaving.

The second he was gone, you gaped at him “You are actually insane,” you said scandalized and eyes wide.

Regulus smirked. “You’re welcome. Perhaps we can star our mornings not risking our lives and you know, go to the great hall like normal witches, hm?"

You only beamed up to him, leaning back against the pillows. “You love me.”

Regulus exhaled, already exhausted again.

“…Tragically, yes. I do”

[yuzuvrse]

i will not go gentle into that good night

in life and in death, you love(d) daisuke.

warnings : daisuke (mouthwashing) x reader, implied sa [of reader], major character death, mouthwashing spoilers, canon-typical violence & then a bit more, reader crashes out on jimmy (deserved), pet names (reader calls daisuke baby)

“Oh, Daisuke…” You sob, tears dripping down your face as you look at the young man lying on the floor in front of you. Once so vivacious and full of life, now he's reduced to a writhing, bleeding mess on the floor, hair matted with blood and eyes glassy. “My baby,” you hesitate to even touch him, but then you're stroking his cheek the same way you always did when you were cuddling together, “My poor baby, what happened to you?”

His pupils are unfocused, darting around crazily before finally settling on you, and his breath that was coming in short pants slows. “Mmm?” He looks up at you, really looks, and you know he knows you're there. “Yes, Daisuke, it's me, I'm here,” you gaze at him through teary eyes, “I'm here for you.” His hand rises shakily as if to hold your face and you cup it eagerly, nuzzling into it with an almost pathetic desperation, “D-don't move, baby, don't move.” You whimper, though you want nothing more than to stay like this with his warm hand on your cheek.

“I wish I'd been there with you.” The thought of the man you love crawling through the vents alone, through the dark and dust and dirt and sparks, all for the sake of saving poor dead Anya… it breaks your heart into pieces. You can't even fathom how much pain he's in, but he still musters up the strength to shake his head ever so slightly. Even on death's doorstep, he’s still worried about you. “Why did you go?” You weep, even though you already know the answer, “Stupid wannabe hero.” Daisuke exhales, a long ragged breath that's wreaked with pain and your heart shatters even more. You crumple into yourself, pressing your forehead against his gently, “You are a hero, Daisuke, okay? You're so brave, my precious baby, fuck-!” The absolute unfairness of the situation hits you like a freight train and you can feel your sanity slipping as you clutch his hand tightly, your sole tether to reality.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there with you,” you plead for his forgiveness, though you already know once you gaze into his loving brown eyes you'll find no hatred there. The guilt is overwhelming, threatening to consume you even though you were a victim of the same cocktail given to Swansea. Daisuke merely looks at you, his chest rising and falling, shallower and shallower each time. You know he doesn't blame you.

“My baby, Daisuke, I'll fix this, okay? You're going to be fine, okay?!” You can feel the hysteria lacing your tone and you don't know how to get rid of it. Then you feel the familiar weight of Swansea's hand on your shoulder, “Kid… Get out of the way.” You turn back to face the mechanic, and as soon as your bloodshot eyes catch a glimpse of the axe you know what he wants to do. “Swansea, no! You can't!” You throw yourself in front of Daisuke, sobbing freely, “Please, Swansea, don't do it!” Swansea's tough demeanor cracks for a split second, and he says, “He's suffering like this. You don't want him to be in pain, do you?” “But I want him to live,” You cry, “We're going to make it home together, Daisuke promised me!” Hearing the words leave your mouth cements the thought for what it really was – a childish fantasy. “Kid… I'm sorry,” is all Swansea can say, knuckles clenched white around the axe handle.

Daisuke lets out a pained gasp, air rushing in through gritted teeth, and you know you can't prolong this anymore. “Baby…” you brush his long brown hair out of his face tenderly, affection evident in your every move. Leaning down to press a final kiss to his lips, you whisper, “It'll happen, okay? We'll move in together and get two dogs that'll be best friends, just like you said you wanted. You'll go to art college and become the most famous painter in the whole world. And I'll be there with you every step of the way because-” Your voice cracks. “Because I love you so much, my Daisuke.” “Now close your eyes, baby,” You stay like that for a moment, thumb stroking his cheek as you watch his features slip into a content expression. Then you turn away, blood thrumming in your ears and rushing through your head, and before you know it, the axe is swinging through the air before hitting its mark with a sickening crunch.

A choked sob escapes your lips, and you feel Swansea's comforting embrace as he pulls you into his arms, “Shh… It's okay. It had to be done.” You bury your face in his chest, an endless stream of tears wetting his shirt, “Daisuke… he didn't deserve this!” “I've got you,” Swansea remains strong, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “No, don't look.” He guides your chin away when you crane your neck to try and catch a final glimpse of the man you love, “Remember him for who he was, not like this.” “Swansea…” A broken moan rips itself from your throat, “I loved him.” And all the old man can do is caress your hair, pulling you tighter into his arms as you cry, “I know, kid. He loved you too.”

—

“You.” You snarl as soon as Jimmy walks into the room, eyes widening when he sees Daisuke's corpse, “This is your fault!” “What the fuck?” Jimmy gasps, staring at Swansea, “You monster!” “Fuck you!” You scream, and the look of total shock and horror on Jimmy's face that you, a foolish intern dares to speak to him so rudely, is almost cathartic as you repeat, “This is all your fault!”

Then you're lunging at him, arms swinging in every direction until you topple him over, nails scratching at his face and gripping his neck so tightly you hope you draw blood. Tears are falling down your face as you sob, “I didn't say anything about what you did to me. About what you did to Anya. But why did you have to hurt Daisuke?!” “T-the medbay… locked… Anya…” Jimmy chokes out, and you laugh wildly, “What a fucking joke. You never cared about Anya, not when she was alive, and certainly not now that she's dead.” “And you know what?” Your nails dig deeper into his skin, and you feel a flash of wicked delight when you see the red beads start to form. “You drove her to it!”

Jimmy's gagging and spluttering, desperate for air, and you grin with vicious pride, “Is this how you felt? Sneaking into Anya’s and my room? Now you can fucking learn how we felt.” You're pressing down harder, desperate to make him feel even a sliver of the pain that Daisuke felt, that Anya felt, that you felt, but then Swansea's lifting you up and pulling you away, even as you kick and scream, “Swansea- no! Let me go!” You're about to sink your teeth into the older man's arm when he says, “I won't let you end up like him,” and you freeze, letting him place you gently on the sofa.

Jimmy holds his neck with both hands, desperately sucking in air until his frantic gaze meets yours, “You.” He stands up on shaky legs, trying to retrieve something from his back pocket, “You're a danger to the crew.” “What crew?” You bark out a hollow laugh, “There's no crew left.” Jimmy bristles at that, eyes bloodshot and crazed, “I'm going to fix this.” You laugh again, dry and devoid of mirth, “You're already dead, and so am I.” “You will be.” Jimmy cocks a gun at you, and you stare down the barrel with a warped smirk, “You were a useless captain, and an even worse man. Do it, you fucking coward.”

Swansea growls, readying the axe, but the wannabe captain's too quick. One shot bursting through your chest and you're gone. And as your eyes flutter closed for the last time, you catch a glimpse of Swansea swinging the weapon once more at Jimmy – you think you can die peacefully now that he'll avenge all the senseless deaths on the Tulpar.

You hope this hurts.

kira's notes : Um. No comment. i wrote the first half bc i was so sad abt the absolute tragedy that is daisuke's character, and then i got so unbelievably angry at jimmy that i had to write the second half LMFAO 😭 i had this in my drafts for ages bc it was xmas and then new years and i felt bad posting angst around those times 💀 but anyways happy new year! hope you liked this <3

[jiniretracha]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠? - 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 (𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬)

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, angst!!!

summary: You worked at Kim Publishing, a place you could call home since the very start. But when it faced bankruptcy, your beloved company was forced to merge with Bang Editorials an evil empire with no vision on anything that Kim Publishing represented. And that's how you met your nemesis: Felix Lee. The bane of your existence. But everything fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle when your bosses had a marvellous idea: a new position as manager director, who had to submit their report in order to be chosen for the job. And your archenemy had the same purpose as you did: get that job one way or another.

word count: 4.5k

ps: I came with a new series totally and utterly inspired/based on The Hating Game. Pls feel free to let me know if you wanna be on this series taglist !

masterlist // series masterlist // ko-fi

𝐎𝐍𝐄 - 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

There used to be a period of your life, when you started working at Kim Publishing, that you loved your job with your entire being. You’ve always been kind of a bookworm, often called a nerd, and as soon as you finished school, you knew you wanted a job that related to your love for them. 

Kim Publishing was your home, just like the owner, Kim Hwayoung, who felt like a stepmother to you. The company was known for its insistence on literature as art, just like you’ve always envisioned. 

But that was until last year.

Your beloved company Kim Publishing sadly faced bankruptcy and was forced to merge with Bang Editorial, an evil empire with no vision on anything that Kim Publishing represented. Basically known for ghostwritten autobiographies of sports stars with brain damage. 

That meant one thing: Bang Editorial workers had to move into the Kim Publishing building. In other words, war. 

You’ve had to suffer from having co-workers being fired in front of you because, according to Bang Seojun, the CEO of Bang Editorials, they were a waste of money and space. 

And that’s how you’ve met your nemesis: Felix Lee.

The bane of your existence. 

Your reasons for hating him were various. 

Reason One: You’ve seen him smile to everyone around you, showing kindness, except towards you. 

Why? You never knew exactly why, to be honest. The minute you met him, knowing you’d be partnered to share the same office, your desks being right in front of each other, you decided to gift him some cupcakes, feeling like making a good impression on your new co-worker. You knew you’d be spending an awful lot of time around him, the least you could do was make him feel at home. 

But Felix Lee just glanced at your face, grabbed the cupcake box and, wordlessly, walked towards the elevator, without sparing another glance at you. 

You stood there that day in your place, feeling so dumb and asking yourself what the hell had you done wrong. 

You’d ask your co-workers about him and they all said the same thing: he was lovely. He seemed to be so nice and kind and yet, he didn’t show not an ounce of niceness or kindness towards you. He was the exact opposite. 

Reason Two: He’s a control freak. 

His desk, unlike yours, was incredibly tidied. Every little thing had its place. You hated it, cause if somebody were to look at your desk, they would grimace and compare it to his. It wasn’t that yours was a mess, it’s just that his was likely comparable to American Psycho. 

You always had fun walking towards his desk when he wasn’t around and messing around with his stuff, misplacing the stapler, moving the sticky notes or turning the pens on their other side. He’d turn around and absolutely know that everything was out of its place. Borderline psychopathic conduct. 

The guy even wore the same shirts in the same order every fucking week. Who does that?

You had even memorized the pattern. 

Monday: light grey.

Tuesday: white.

Wednesday: baby blue.

Thursday: sky blue.

Friday: royal blue. 

So predictable, you always thought every time he arrived at the office with the same shirts on the same day. 

Reason Three: He always corrects any tiny mistake you make. 

You’d give him reports and he’d hand them back to you all scribbled over with a sharp red marker, to give you some sort of consciousness of your mistakes (his words, not yours). 

Reason Four: Probably the most important one. After the merger, he came up with a list of people to fire, making Bang Seojun almost come in his pants from the excitement it gave him saving money, and it included all of your co-workers and friends.

Who were kind of all of the friends you had, if you were being honest. 

It made your skin crawl just how unaffected by the whole thing he was, just flawlessly walking around with his stupid freckles and stupid black hair, always so perfectly combed. 

Felix Lee seemed like the perfect guy with his charms and freckles from the outside, but don’t let him fool you.

You were convinced he was the actual devil in disguise. 

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It was a bright day and you only hoped it would mean no actual death threats thrown around between you and Felix. It would happen eventually, you just always hoped it would be the exception. 

When you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Kim Hwayoung, your boss (or well, one of your bosses as Bang Seojun was unfortunately one of them too) walking towards her office. 

“Good morning, Hwayoung” you bowed handing her a report.

“Good morning, dear Y/N” she smiled at you, grabbing the papers you handed to her. “Has Bang seen this?” she asked, her eyes curiously roaming all over the papers. 

“Well, I’ve emailed it to Felix so, I assume, yes” you nodded, following her. 

“Hmm, and what about that book from the actress. Did Bang turn it down like we assumed he would?” Hwayoung asked, opening the door of her office and walking inside.

You stepped inside and shut the door behind you. “Suspiciously, no. He didn’t. I’m kind of assuming he didn’t really pay attention to the long ass email you sent to him” you shrugged.

“Sounds like Bang Seojun” Hwayoung sighed, wiping a hand over her face in exhaustion. “We need to step up and make sure that girl gets a spot in our editorial. We can’t lose her to the testosterone that seems to run in this place” 

“Yeah, I’m on it” you nodded immediately, completely agreeing with her.

“That’s why you’re my favourite” she winked at you. “Would you be a darling and tell Lia to bring me a coffee on your way out? I’m not stressed today yet but I feel like it’s gonna be one hell of a day already, and please tell her to leave it by the meeting room” 

You chuckled and nodded. “Of course, Hwayoung” you smiled at the elderly woman. “See you in a few”

She blew you a kiss and opened her computer to start working. You stepped out of the office and went to the coffee area, where you knew you’d find Lia, Hwayoung’s assistant.

“Hey, Lia! Hwayoung just asked me if you could bring her coffee and leave it in the meeting room?”

“Hi, Y/N. Sure!” she kindly smiled and immediately went to make some coffee.

“Y/N! Y/N!” a familiar voice came from behind you and you refrained yourself from rolling your eyes. 

You turned around and plastered on a fake smile on your face. “Hey Soyeon. How are you?” you said, grabbing a cookie from the tray that was on the counter. 

She bit her lip and sighed. “I just wanted to ask you for a small favor” she started with a pout.

Oh my God, here we go. 

“I need more time for the monthly report, you know?” Soyeon said as she followed your walk towards the meeting room. “My nephew ate peanut butter yesterday, and he’s kind of allergic to it. I have to go take care of him at the hospital and- it’s just been so stressful” Soyeon faked being fed up with her supposed life story. “Could you please be a sweetheart and just give me a little bit more time?”

You knew she was faking. But you didn’t have it in yourself to say no to her, or anyone for that matter. Quote Taylor Swift, you were a pathological people pleaser. 

“Sure” you smiled, wanting to grab your hair and just rip it off. “Of course”

Soyeon sighed and smiled at you. “You’re the best, It will be ready on Monday… or Wednesday at the latest” she said and walked away before you could even utter a word. With a sigh, you bit at your cookie and rolled your eyes at your incapability of saying no to Soyeon. 

You were about to step inside the meeting room when you caught Felix, staring at you with that characteristic smile on his face. 

“That… was pathetic” he said. 

“Don’t project yourself on me, alright?” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You know, Y/N. You could have her do her job” Felix said, stepping closer towards you. “But no… you always have to be the good guy”

“Well-” you shrugged. “It’s so much better than being the asshole, isn’t it?” 

Felix snorted and rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“Oh, and by the way” you said before stepping inside the meeting room. “Your tie is crooked”

Felix’s eyes widened and looked down at his tie. His tie, that was sitting perfectly on his chest.

You gave him a smirk and walked into the meeting room. 

He just pressed his tongue on his inner cheek and followed suit. 

“Oh, Y/N, Felix. So glad you guys are here” Kim Hwayoung greeted you as you sat next to her and Felix right next to his CEO, Bang Seojun. “Mr. Bang and I have an announcement we want to make. We’re adding a new position to the team!” she said happily. 

“Yeah” Bang Seojun nodded. “We’re adding a managing director, that will oversee each department, and he will pass that report to me”

Hwayoung rolled her eyes. “He or she will pass the report to both of us” she stated, still wearing her kind smile and Bang Seojun just nodded along. 

“The job is open to external applicants, of course, but… I would very much like to hire from within” Bang Seojun smirked at Felix. 

“Yeah, and we’re putting up an independent panel since we don’t always agree” Hwayoung eyed Seojun from across the table. “They will be the judge of it”

“You have… about a month and a half” Seojun said, eyeing his papers lying on the desk. “May the best man win!” 

“Or woman” Hwayoung pointed out, raising her manicured finger up.

“Or woman, yeah” Bang Seojun nodded and Hwayoung rolled her eyes again. 

You looked at Felix who was already staring at you wearing his infamous smirk.

You’re on, Felix Lee. You are so on.

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“The job is mine, cupcake” he scolded you, as you made yourself tea. 

“Oh, your confidence is compelling but you forgot one tiny little detail” you said, feigning innocence. 

Felix just arched his eyebrows. “And what’s that?” he asked with a smile, amused. 

“Everyone hates you” You simply stated and turned around, walking towards the elevator with the cup of tea in hand.

“Oh, they don’t hate me. They fear me, which makes me very effective for my job” he said, following you. 

You chuckled. “You know, the day that I’ll be your boss. I will require you to smile at me at least every once in two minutes” you grumbled at him.

He walked next to you as he laughed. “When I’m your boss, I’m going to give you so much work, you’ll start using the office as your home address” he stated, firing back at you.

“When I’m your boss, I’m going to impose casual Fridays” you said and pressed the elevator button. “Hawaiian shirts mandatory”

“When I’m your boss, I’m going to implement a new dress code. No more looking like an elementary school librarian” he said, walking inside the elevator right behind you.

You scoffed and looked at him. “If you get the job, I’ll resign”

Felix pulled a shocked face on him.  “Really?” he asked, surprised. 

“Just like you will if I do” you said to him and narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t quit” Felix said to you with a chuckle. 

“All right. Then, I’ll fire you” you fired back at him. 

“Ah… but I’m incapable of giving you that pleasure” Felix smirked.

“Aww, it’s not the first time you’ve said that to a woman, isn’t it?” you asked him, with a grimace. 

Felix snorted and looked away, shaking his head.

“So we agree, then” you said with a smug smirk and he looks back at you, his eyes full of a certain emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “If one of us gets the job, the other one has to quit” 

“Fine. Agreed” he said, sure of himself that he was going to be the one getting that job. 

The doors of the elevator opened and you stepped inside your office. You saw that Wooyoung, your co-worker, one of the few people that weren’t fired from the merger, was waiting by your desk with an excited smile.

“Oh, hey Wooyoung!” you smiled at him with a wave, your eyebrows raising up at his presence.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m bringing some delivery for you” he smiled at you, handing you a book.

You gasped, immediately recognising it. “Oh! The new book” you smiled widely at him. “That’s so nice of you, thank you”

Wooyoung worked in editing and even though he wasn’t technically your friend, you two had a very good relationship. Ever since all of your friends were fired, Wooyoung was kind of like the only person you found you could trust, besides Hwayoung. You tried to keep him close to you ever since the merger. 

“The designers made copies in advance, it’s not that big of a deal, so…” he shrugged, walking closer to you, trying to contain the smile that was trying to creep into his face from your words.

Felix sat by his desk and narrowed his eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him. 

You looked at the cover and frowned immediately. “Oh shit. Is this the cover?” you grimaced, showing the book to Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung let out a frustrated sigh and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Bang Seojun made us do it” he shrugged, clearly annoyed as well. 

“The book is about archeology, what the hell is this?” you stared at the book with a cover with a girl in it. “Did he even read the back cover?”

“I seriously doubt it” Wooyoung replied slowly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t”

“Do you, Y/N?” Felix asked and you found his gaze. “I mean, I was sure you didn’t even know how to read so…”

“First grader insults, great job, Felix” You said with sarcasm, give him a thumbs up. 

“Okay… I’m out of here” Wooyoung said, noticing that you were about to get each other's throats. Again. 

“Bye, Woo” you smiled.

“Bye, Y/N. Bye, Felix”

Felix didn’t reply and just grabbed some papers from his desk before sitting on his chair and looking at the now empty corridor.

“That poor sap thinks you’re flirting with him” Felix bit his lip, shaking his head. “How sad”

“The same way people think you’re flirting with me?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Cupcake, if I was flirting with you, you’d know” he smirked, confidently. 

“I didn’t know losers knew how to flirt, but here we are” You said, typing away on your computer. 

You saw him sigh and grab a journal from a drawer, and with a red marker, scribble something inside it and close it. He left it there and opened his computer.

Your eyes shifted down to your hands and gnawed at your lip. You were now curious at what the hell was that thing where he just scribbled something random with a red marker on a journal. 

Before you could think it through, Bang Seojun came into your office with a smug smile. “Hello, my hardworking people” he said, and you knew he had to refrain from calling you slaves.

“Hi, Mr. Bang. I have a copy of the new book for you” you said, grabbing the book that Wooyoung had handed you.

“Ah!” Seojun yelped and walked towards you, grabbing the book. “Dr. Lee, you didn’t tell me it was ready” Seojun said, eyeing the book proudly. “The cover was all me, you know?” Bang Seojun looked way too proud of the god-awful cover.

“Y-yeah” you nodded, scratching your head in an awkward manner. “It’s um… it’s definitely eye-catching” you stammered, obviously finding it very hard to lie. 

“Yeah” Seojun chuckled. “Did you send the emails I told you to send, Dr. Lee?” 

“Yep. Already did” Felix nodded, without sparing him a glance. 

Bang Seojun smiled contently and patted the book with his palm, before leaving it on your desk. “Great. See you kids later” Seojun said and left the office.

“Bye… dick” you whispered that last part under your breath. 

“Did you just refer to the cover as eye-catching?” Felix said, with laughter hiding in his voice. “It looks like it was designed by a horny fifth-grader. Not exactly delivering knowing it’s a book about the diary of an archeologist, but whatever” 

You pulled your face back, taken aback by the information he had just provided. “Since when do you read the books we publish?” you asked him, narrowing your eyes. 

Felix shrugged. “I always do it. Plus, I felt the book was so boring, I fell asleep three times reading the first page” he said, placing his macbook inside his bag.

You snorted and stood up from your chair, grabbing your purse. “Well, it’s tiring to read above your level of education” you fired back. “Maybe you aren’t ready for chapter books just yet”

“It was boring, Y/N!” Felix defended himself, standing up to grab his coat from the hanger. 

“It was a masterpiece, and then Bang Seojun had to go and cut like 200 pages from it, with the sole excuse that he wanted it to be more of an ‘airport read’” you scoffed, putting on your coat and placing your purse on your desk. “Which is totally ridiculous. He’s just trying to mask that he doesn’t have enough IQ to actually interpret what the author is saying”

“Just admit it, cupcake. It was boring” Felix said, giving you a look.

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes and walked towards the elevator with your stuff, Felix following you behind. 

“So… any plans for the weekend?” He asked with a long breath. “Probably your usual right? Watching a cringey romantic comedy while eating something greasy out of a can?” 

You scoffed and let out a little laugh. “And what about the Lee’s? Drinking the blood of a virgin and then staring at each other in silence?” you arched an eyebrow at him. 

“Ugh, how did you know? We’re looking for donations” Felix said and you were both startled when Ms. Choi came into the elevator.

Ms. Choi as soon as she saw them, let out a huff. 

“Oh, hi, Ms. Choi! You look spectacular today” you smiled at her. “Love those earrings”

“Don’t even try” Ms. Choi cut you off. “I’ve got four complaints this week. FOUR. Three alone about the break room incident on Monday” she fumed. 

Oh. Yeah. 

That… was… 

MONDAY:

It was supposed to be a tranquil day that Monday, until Felix Lee had decided to give you shit for some mistakes you had made while typing the report you were supposed to send to him. He had managed to find you coincidentally in the break room… where everyone was supposed to be enjoying just that, their break. 

“Ready for our lesson?” Felix said loudly, grabbing a donut from a box, cutting it in half and showing it to you, making you gasp. “This is a coma-“ he said and then grabbed a munchkin. “And this is a period, which is a point” he mansplained to you. “Do you know how to use it? Do you?-“

“Put that donut away or I’m gonna shove it up so far up your ass, the damn surgeons are gonna have to cut you in half to take it off!” You yelled at him, banging your hand against the table of the break room, making every single person there turn their heads to look at you.

“Aww, wouldn’t you like that, cupcake?” he teased you, pouting out his lip. 

PRESENT DAY:

Yeah. So…

“Mommy and daddy fight sometimes” Felix explained to Ms. Choi. 

“Yeah, we have discussions” you smiled with sarcasm. 

“Like when Mommy has typos similar to a fourth grader and Daddy has to step up and correct her like a goddamned teacher” Felix said with a fake neutral voice.

“Or how Daddy has a cork up his ass and sometimes needs to yell at Mommy to decompress” you said between your teeth. 

Ms. Choi looked at you with a disgusted face. “Mommy and daddy? Are you two for real?” she scoffed. “You two are the worst part of my job…”

You felt like hugging Mr. Choi and apologising. 

It wasn’t her fault that Felix Lee had to be the bane of your existence. 

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You got home at around 7 pm and about an hour later, when you were already showered and ready to make some dinner, your mother called you.

“Hey momma. How’s London going?” You asked her, sitting on the couch and crossing your legs. 

“Oh, you know… same old usual” she tried to make you feel better. 

You scoffed at her. “Mom. I’m sure London’s a thousand times better than Seoul. Less people, less flashy lights, and on top of all that, you’re there on a long ass vacation”

“Fine, fine. London’s amazing” she giggled. “I didn’t realise just how much I missed this place”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it” you smiled. “Did you, at least, buy me something nice?”

Your mother gasped. “Y/N! Of course I did. What kind of mom would I be if I didn’t?” she answered like she was offended. “I bought you a snow globe, the one you told me you wanted, and a few baby tees that you girls use nowadays with an I Love London on it”

“Great” you chuckled.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” you blinked a couple of times.

“How are you doing? Are you doing something today? You know, Friday night and all?” she asked you.

How do you tell your mom that your life is incredibly bland and dull without sounding like a pathetic loser?

“Um, yeah. It’s- I’m taking this Friday out so I can go on a full party mode for tomorrow” you lied easily. “Me and the girls are going out for drinks and then- then we’re going to a party”

“Oh, whose party?” she asked excitedly, sounding like a teenager.

Shit. “Wooyoung’s” you shrugged, thinking of the first name that came to your mind.

“I see… Any lucky guy we should worry about?” Your mother asked, knowing she was smirking on the other side of the line.

You scoffed. “Wow, you’re getting ahead of yourself!” 

“Come on, tell me! You never tell me anything!”

“No… I was seeing this guy but… we broke up like four months ago. And that’s it” You told her with a sad smile.

“Aw, my baby. I’m sure there are plenty of fish in the ocean” she told you.

“Yeah, well… it’s not that easy to find a good one” 

“What about that guy from work?” Your mom asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Who? Felix?” you asked with a grimace, though she couldn’t see it. 

“Honey, you talk about him all the time” your mom chuckled. 

“I do not! I literally despise the guy with all my being” you said in a whiny pitched voice. “We’ve had endless conversations about how much I hate him”

“Yeah, sure, sweetheart” 

“You don’t believe me” you stated, it wasn’t a question.

“Oh, no. It’s not that I don’t believe you. I don’t think you don’t believe yourself when you say those things about Felix” she explained.

“Alright, um… I’m gonna- I’m gonna go watch a movie or something. I think this conversation is done”

Your mom let out a cackle. “Okay, honey. Make sure to call me at least once this weekend” she said.

“Yes, Mom. I will”

“Bye, I love you!” your mom called out.

“Bye, love you lots” you said and hung up the phone.

With a sigh, you rolled your shoulders back, letting your bones crack and started preparing dinner for yourself.

Once you sat down on the couch with a bowl of pasta and put on some crappy reality show to watch on TV, your mind couldn’t help but drift over to Felix and the whole deal you had made.

You just hoped to God your strategy would work, otherwise, the thought of leaving Hwayoung alone with Bang Seojun would eat you alive for life. You wouldn’t forgive yourself.

But on top of all, you wouldn’t let Felix win. You couldn’t. Over your dead body. 

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You pressed your head on the pillow with a tired sigh. 

After a couple of minutes of trying to find a comfortable position, you kicked the covers off of you, seeking some air and comfort over your legs. 

All of a sudden, you felt a pair of hands placing themselves on the sides of your head and a body pressing itself against your back. 

You gasped and pushed back against the hard and warm body. You felt your breath picking up its rhythm as you felt a hand running over your leg. The presence felt awfully familiar. 

“You make me so fucking hard” the man said, and it made you moan lowly, recognising his voice. “You know that?”

Felix’s hand drifted over to the front of your shorts and pressed his fingers over your clit. You squeezed your legs around his hand and moaned brokenly, your feet kicking the mattress. 

Your breath became more ragged as his fingers started drawing tight circles over your clothed core.

“Felix…” you moaned, kicking your head back in pleasure. “Please…”

“Please what?” his deep and sexy voice boomed in your ears, making you clench around nothing. It sounded like a tease, like he always did. 

“Touch me…”

He chuckled and the sound vibrated all over your body. 

“Wake up, baby”

With a gasp, you sat up and looked around, feeling your heart beating out of your chest. With a few blinks, you realised that you were indeed alone in your room and one of your hands was neatly placed in between your legs, pressing against your bundle of nerves.

Your hand flew away from there and you frowned, your knees flexing so you could press your forehead on them.

Felix would not leave you alone, even in your dreams. 

You slumped back on the bed, your head hitting the pillow furiously. 

“Motherfucker…”

-

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @lattyjiji  @jeonginsleftcheek   @alrm02   @skzjiiiii

i apologise in advance if i cant tag you :(