#your twisting my melons man

[muchalucha-art]

Some Coco awesomeness to make my day...

for the clown + outfit thingy, 2E for Coco Demento! (mucha lucha)

Still looking intimidating

[lovecomedy]

If you need any convincing that Noel and Liam Gallagher are incestuous freaks (affectionate), here's the basic information you need

First of all. The kisses

Loch Lomond kiss, where they just... made out on stage in front of cameras. Cool. There's a gif with every photo from every angle.

Another kiss, this time in Japan. Here's the actual video.

And here's the same video but together with nice quotes from their 2016 documentary:

Here's a 2005 award event where they kiss again and also look quite in love

And here's Liam straight up groping Noel during concerts:

General stage antics and more groping:

Just one more groping

Ok. Let's talk about the music, then

Oasis has a song that Noel wrote called "My Sister Lover". The title speaks for itself, really. It includes amazing lyrics such as "You're my lover, I'm your brother"

But there's more! Noel used the same chorus of this song (with different lyrics) for a song he released in his solo album, 20 years later. It's called "Lock All the Doors". The very first line says: "She wore a star-shaped tambourine, prettiest girl I’d ever seen". And guess... guess who famously played a star-shaped tambourine? Liam! And Noel was the one that gifted him the fucking tambourine!!

Liam wrote a song for Oasis called Guess God Thinks I'm Abel

I'll just link everything that's been said about this song, because it really is batshit insane that this song exists

(It's common in the north of England to refer to things and people as "our". When either Liam or Noel say "our kid", they're talking about each other)

Liam has the tendency of thinking every song Noel writes is about him, including the love songs

Here he says "I'm his muse", along with some other interesting quotes

Ok, now we're on to suspicious quotes!

They had sex last night, according to Liam

This one is my favorite:

Of course this one is just all the weird quotes jammed in one post, you can feel yourself going crazy as you read it

Noel assures us that Liam knows about his arse

Other people confirming that they act like a couple. And them being fucking weird about each other’s marriages.

This one has Noel saying Liam is deeply in love with him. At the bottom, Liam's tweet.

Actually Liam always tweets things that basically confirm they're relationship. Like when somebody asked him if he ever rimmed Noel. Yeah.

This radio interview is where the most lovely quotes come from. Only Noel was supposed to be interviewed but then they both showed up PISSED DRUNK. Transcription in the same post

Even More weird quotes

This one involves the word impregnate

Noel making a suspicious comment about his daughter and son, Anais and Donovan

I think to be convinced you really just need that, but I'd like to add some niceties.

Just genuinely enjoying each other’s company

This is from the Oasis; 10 Minutes Of Noise and Confusion documentary. As Noel is kissing Liam's cheek, Liam is saying "He’s a fucking cunt and I hate him and I love him and he twists my melon, man. He’s the best songwriter in the fucking world.”

Some sweet quotes, and some less sweet ones as well

From the Supersonic documentary

Hugging after playing football

Just being silly

To finish off, two wonderful video edits with endearing moments

[earthnashes]

Heyooooo ya'll! Figured it'd be a good idea to give a quick lil update on what I'm up to since it's been a while since I just talked on here.

If you don't wanna read here's the TL;DR:

-Fanart and headcanon AU projects in indefinite hiatus. This tumblr will host my commissioned art, original art/OC projects, and occasional tomfoolery of my thoughts, worldbuilding posts, interests, and updates on my Powerlifting venture.

The full update under the break! :)

Not so good news: Rent's going up. Who's isn't, right? Gonna be putting a serious effort on looking for a new place (I'm reeaaallly gunning for a house) because SHEEEEEEEEEEEESH that spike in price for the exact same shit? Nah man. Likely will get rough a few times over the next few months but I'm confident I'll figure things out!

----

I'm doing relatively good! Cool news: I will be competing in my first powerlifting meet this year! It's been made official as of two months ago, and I've been hard at work with training and prep for the meet. I have my eye on making the state record for the Benchpress in my weightclass and I think I have real shot at it, so I'm gonna make the attempt. Wish me luck! ;w;

Now, the crux of why the update: I figured it was probably high time to mention the complete lack of fanart and headcanons 'round here, especially because that's what helped me find all of you and vice versa.

I'll be honest; I am no longer burnt out on creating art, but I've found the interest to continue any of my AU fanprojects is still missing, so as of right now they are on an indefinite hiatus. I apologize to everyone who followed me for the Super Mario, the LoZ stuff, anything and everything I was working on before the burnout! ;w;

I'm still working on projects, they're just completely original ones! I've been having so much fun with them and I'm pretty happy with them; here's a quick preview of each:

One is a slowburn fantasy where a god becomes trapped in the mortal realm while on a mission, but ends up compromising said mission when she begins to believe everything she knew about mortals is a lie.

The second project is an anthro mystery/thriller about a doe who knows her husband was murdered, but no one else believes her. As she works to find his killer herself, the last thing she expects is falling in love.

The third is the only fanproject I have going and ya'll know of it: Melon's Adventure! Follow Melon as he faces dangers and villains on his quest to return baby Mario to his family. A retelling of Yoshi's Island with twists and a personal flair!

---

But ye! I wanna say thank you all so much for your interest and engagement with my fanart work; regardless of everything I had an absolute great time working on them, and you all made them all the more enjoyable. It may take a little bit before I start posting them, but I hope you stick around for the original/OC stuff and enjoy what I've got in store! ;w;

Feel free to ask questions or make comments, I'll be around to respond starting today. Until then keep them peepers open for more art! :)

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 8

Holy crap the amount of likes and comments and reblogs you all have left is amazing! Thank you so so much for enjoying!

Anyway! On to the next part.

Masterlist

The sound of the native birds of your island is what wakes Mihawk. He cracks his eyes open, wincing when his back protests him moving as soon as he wakes up. He stands and moises his way to the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it on the stove. Mugs and tea bags are next, and Dracule makes sure to dump some sugar into your own cup. He then moves on, collecting fresh fruits and vegetables from your garden and investigating the smoke room. He finds very little inside and decides that his haul now is enough for breakfast. 

Fixing it up doesn't take all that long, and soon, he has a platter of foodstuffs that looks similar to the one last night. Dracule makes a mental note to try and bring you some type of livestock, though he dreads the thought of anything bigger than a house cat on his ship. 

The tea is placed on the tray, and Dracule makes his way to your bedroom. He eases the door open, and a soft smile crosses his lips at the sight of you curled up with an arm around Hank. The big pooch whines and drags himself off the bed and out the door, going to do his business. Mihawk takes his spot and sets the tray away from you but still on the bed. 

“Sweet thing,” Dracule rumbles and slides his hand up into your hair, scratching your scalp just the way you like it, “It's time to get up. I've made breakfast.” 

Those seem to be the magic words for you rise like the dead and look at Mihawk through squinted eyes. He thinks she looks adorable when you rub your eyes, pout on your lips from being woken up. 

“Hawk?” You mumble out and wince when your head throbs like a bastard. You whine and lay back down, not wanting to deal with the pain, “Don't feel good.” 

Dracule can't help but laugh at your pitiful state, “Oh, Darling. I'm not surprised you don't feel very well,” he coos and gently pulls you back into a sitting position. He shifts to sit behind you, back against the wall, as he drags the tray of goodies closer to both of you. 

“One must be careful when indulging in alcohol. Is this your first hangover?” Mihawk asks quietly, and you shrug, not really understanding what he's going on about. You frown when he laughs at you again and cross your arms over your chest, only to wince when you brush across your breasts. 

“Owee,” you murmur quietly and wonder why your chest aches so badly, only to drop your head in shame when you happened to remember most of last night. 

Mihawk gently lays you back and lifts your shirt, shushing you gently when you squirm and try to fight him, “Hush, let me look. There is nothing to be embarrassed by,” he chides and sends you a look that has you ducking your head and looking away from him. Mihawk examines the seldom hickies and love bites with a smug twist of his lips, hands reaching up to gently trace the bite mark that still lingers from last night. 

You look beautiful all marked up, and a dark feeling blooms in his chest at the sight of what he did. Mihawk wants to see more of them on you, proof that you want him. That you are his. 

“Just sore, sweet thing,” Dracule comments lowly and kisses your cheek, lingering to leave a trail of hot kisses all the way down your neck and to your shoulder, “We will have breakfast and then you will have a hot bath while I do my morning routine.” 

You nod, completely at the warlord's mercy as you glance down to see that he hasn't stopped his gentle ministrations, thumbs rubbing over your nipples over and over again until you can think of nothing but the man who holds you. Even your hangover doesn't seem as bad with Dracule here. 

Mihawk glances over the tray and picks up a cubed melon slice, lifting it up to your lips and grinning when you obediently open your mouth for him. He feeds you one piece after another until you are pleasantly full and ready to go back to sleep, “Tea first, sweet girl,” he orders when he feels you shift again. 

You nod slowly, wincing when your head aches at even the slightest movements. The tea has cooled, but it still tastes wonderful to your cottonmouth. You sip until it is empty, and Dracule takes the mug away from you when he notices you finished. He taps your thigh gently, “Up you go, Darling.” He encourages softly. 

He leaves you to find some clean clothes and a towel while he goes to the bathroom and begins to run you a bath. He is surprised by the amount of modern utilities he finds in your cottage and wonders who you really are. While simple, your home was filled with older but no less luxurious items. The hot water and plumbing were just one of the many things that he's noticed. 

Mihawk's thoughts are interrupted when you appear in the doorway with a thin robe and towel. You smile at the sight of your friend starting you a bath, “Thank you for taking care of me, Dracule,” you say, and step close to press your lips to his cheek when he rises from his slouch over the tub. 

Hawkeye feels hot satisfaction curl in his chest at your thanks. He turns and pulls you in for a kiss, hand coming up to tangle in your hair and pull you close to him. Mihawk likes the way you say his name. All breathy and full of gratitude, and all for him.

 You whine at the less than soft treatment, but you can't bring yourself to care or complain about it. Not when you love it when Dracule touches you like this. He kisses you breathless, leaving you a gasping mess as he turns away to fiddle with the knobs of the faucet. You pout a little, annoyed that Dracule is never as affected as you are after a kiss like that. 

Your annoyance disappears the second that Dracule steps behind you, hands placed on your shoulders as if to slide your robe down. Nerves surge through your entire body, and you clutch the thick fabric to your chest, “I um. I can take It from here, Mihawk.” 

You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck. Your hair is up in a messy bun, allowing the warlord to press chaste kisses to the flushed skin there, and thankfully, no more than that.

 “Take your time, dear one. I'll be outside if you need me.” Dracule assures you, and then he is shutting the door behind himself and leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You shrug off your bathrobe, and a relaxing sigh escapes you as you settle in the hot water, eyes closing as you do what Mihawk bid and take your time. 

It's an hour later by the time you step outside. It's nice and sunny like usual, and you grin when Hank bounds up. The big lug presents you with a stick, and you toss it into the woods for your dog to go running after. You glance around, humming wordlessly as you look for Dracule. 

You find him at the back of the cottage where the sun shines brightest. Your home is situated up a small embankment, leaving your backyard to drop off into a cliff face. Dracule stands at the edge of the cliff, looking regal and dramatic as the wind blows his dark hair this way and that. 

You wonder why he keeps coming back here. He's told you before that your island is like a safe haven from the rest of the world, but sometimes you aren't sure that you believe him. You don't know what the rest of the world is like, and when you first came to this island, you yearned to leave and explore the world. How much of the world has Mihawk experienced to say that your island in the middle of nowhere was a safe place for him. 

What did your friend go through for him to run and hide away from it all? 

“I can hear you thinking from up here, dear,” Mihawk says, and you nearly jump out of your skin. He turns and gives you a smug smirk, “What's on your mind?” 

You huff at him and step by his side, eyes flickering to the crashing waves of the ocean. Your devil fruit reacts to the sight, sending flurries scattering about the two of you. You debate asking the real question you've wanted answered since Dracule stepped foot on your island. Just who exactly was Dracule Hawkeye Mihawk? 

“Nothing, just admiring,” you say instead. You didn't want to give him any reason to leave early. 

Dracule huffs at you with a roll of his eyes, “Is that so?” He presses and eyes you, “You can ask me things, Dear One. I won't lie to you.” 

“Even if it's about who you really are?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. You tense, flurries sticking to your skin as your nerves get the better of you. The silence is thick between the two of you, and you are terrified to even look in his direction. 

“I introduced myself when I saved you from those pirates, did I not?” Dracule's tone is one of forced calm, and more snow begins to fall when you hear it. You can't help but feel like you've messed up. A warm hand catches your chin, and you are forced to look into the golden, ringed eyes of your friend. His gaze is as cold as your devil fruit, and you find yourself shivering under it. 

“You did,” you agreed carefully, “But, you just… don't speak about yourself often, and I'm curious.” You swallow harshly and catch the bird following the movement of your throat. His eyes catch your own in the next moment, and you force yourself to hold his gaze. 

It feels like it takes an eternity, but Dracule relents, eyes softening just a fraction and grip becoming more tender, “I have a good reason for not doing so, Snow Angel,” he murmurs. 

You suck in a sharp breath at the new name, wetting your lips as you latch on to the pretty words that he spills. You want to say more, but your lips won't move. Your jaw won't work to form the words that you want to say to him. Dracule has you, hook, line, and sinker, just where he wants you. He traces the curve of your jaw with his thumb, then leans forward to press his lips to your brow. 

“Promise to not ask me again, and I'll tell you in my own time,” Dracule suggests softly and you lose yourself even more to him, “I do not take the sharing of personal information lightly,_.” 

And there it was. The nail in the coffin. Mihawk rarely calls you by your name, so hearing it in his sinfully melodic voice sends shivers of pleasure racing up your spine. The flurries melt, and you find yourself nodding eagerly.

“I promise not to ask again,” you say, and feel like you are about to explode when Dracule gives you a proud quirk of his lips. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk praises softly and brings you in for a quick kiss, pleased that you see his way of things. The tension in the air is all but gone, and the warlord leads his snow angel away from the cliff edge.

“Come, I didn't get those books for you for nothing, Dear One. How about you read one of them to me?” 

You let Dracule pull you back to the cottage, Hank meeting you with a happy bark at the door. His anger still lingers in the back of your mind, but you can let it go for now. 

@writingmysanity @foggyturtleknightangel @kenkenmaaa @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @djbumblebee

[nightxcreature]

Unresolved

       Summary: Reader finds Demon Dean on a hunt, but maybe she shouldn't have.

     A/N: Trying another for @jacklesversebingo this one is Character Death.

Warnings: Death, Fighting, Unspoken pining/love, Demon Dean being a bit of an asshole? Angst

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader (Sort of?)

18+ ONLY

    “Get away from me.” I growl as he pushes me harshly against the wall. My hands are pinned to my sides, his chest pressed to mine and his knee between my legs, making fighting back more difficult than I had bargained for. I twist against him, trying my best to wiggle out of his grip to no avail.

                A low laugh rumbles from his chest as his hands grip my wrists roughly and flings them above my head, “Or what, Darlin’?” His eyebrows rise and a little smirk plays on his lips, “What are you gonna do all on your own?” His chest presses further onto mine causing my breathing to become labored as he tightens his grip on my wrists, bruises beginning to form under his fingers.

                “Dean…” I manage to squeak out, “Please.”

                He rolls his eyes and yanks my wrists from above us, using them to fling me into the opposite wall, “Sorry, Sweetheart, Dean can’t come to phone right now.” I fall to the floor with a grunt, my head spinning from the impact while he stalks over to me, bending down to grab my hair and pull me to my knees. He tugs me roughly by the roots, just high enough that we’re eye to eye, his flashing black as he grins, “Guess you’ll have to leave a message.”

                I struggle against his grip, slowly sliding my hand down into my boot to wrap my fingers around the blade hidden there only to be met with his own fingers around my wrist once again. I whimper as he slams me into the floor and quickly removes the blade from my ankle, “I know all your tricks, y/n. Everything about you is floating around in this melon of his.” He taps the point of the knife against his own temple with a sick smile and squats next to me, a hand placed against my head as he runs the blade gently across my throat, “Has it not occurred to you that this will be so easy for me? That I just don’t care anymore?” A dark chuckle leaves his lips as he roughly grips my hair again, “He loved you, you know? Never said anything, thought you deserved better than him…” A gasp leaves me and I'm unsure if it’s from the shock of his revelation or from the beating I’ve been receiving at his hand, “You didn’t know? Funny, he didn’t hide it very well…even died for you a few times, didn’t he?”

                I frown, staring up into his green eyes as he drops a knee to my side. He runs the blade up to my throat again and presses it into my skin causing me to flinch. This man that I recognize physically, that resembles every bit of the man I’d hunted with, fought for, and loved unconditionally, is a totally different person since taking The Mark, “Is he still in there?” I whisper, quickly regretting it as he frowns.

                His jaw ticks and he rubs the back of the hand that grips the knife across his face, “Don’t try that shit on me, Doll.”

                My frown deepens as my eyes narrow, “I think he is, and I’m gonna get him back.”

                He laughs again, bringing his face down to mine. My eyes closing at the closeness; the feeling of Dean so close yet so far away. His breath fans my face as he speaks, “I don’t think you are.”

                “You’re wrong. You love me.” I whisper urgently back, a hand slowly reaching up to grip the back of his head, “You love me.” Each word enunciated as we stare into each other. I can see a silent battle behind his gaze before his black eyes flash back to their usual green and I see a moment of recollection on his face before he blinks and they’re dark as onyx once more. A sharp sting runs through my abdomen as he smiles.

                His wrist turns causing me to scream, his words barely registering as I reach up to pry his hands away from me, “No, he loved you. I never said anything about myself.” He glances down at the stain forming on my white shirt, that smile never leaving his face, “Thanks for bringing him to the surface for this little party though.” He sinks the knife further into my stomach before pulling it out and placing in one of my shaking hands as he stands, “I’ll send Sammy a Ouija board so you can let him know to stop following me.”

______________________________________________________________

Tags: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @enigmalynne @envysarchive @k-slla

[linmmelonz]

Guess the Build Doubles Quotes Part One

“We love a good twist ‘round here” Joel

“I am notoriously good at this” Skizz

“It’s a real flood of vom” Martyn

“[the lizards] he loves-they’re like children to him” Joel

“He’s WIIIIIDE!” Joel

“Otherwise it looks like he’s a bit of a contortionist” Joel

“It’s not gone…well” Grian

“There’s a lotta noise in this melon buddy” Skizz

“A pizza…ITS A PIZZA!!” Jim

“What the great googly moogly is this?” Grian

“Right, this is as far as we can get without things getting weird.” Grian

“Long…philangies coming out the top” Grian

“You’ve forgot eleventeen!” Martyn

“SABOTAGE HIS VIDEO JOEL!” Grian

“We’re best buds! We will not sabotage!” Joel

“When someone says: ‘there’s no such thing as perfect’ you just say: ‘the other side of the pillow’” Grian

“Su-phea what’s a su-phea?” Joel

“They’re stupid” Joel

“Yeah, yeah, um. Listen. Do your best. Lateral thinking here Jim!” Grian

“I just saw it-it jus-IT HAPPENED OK?!?” Skizz

“He looks absolutely baffled. He’s never seen that block in his life.” Jim

“He’s like ‘what is this dude? What is this man? I’ve never seen this block man before man! Grian what are you giving me man?’” Joel

“QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK QUICK!!! YELLOW, BIG, DONE!!!” Grian

“I am all busted up here.” Skizz

“Skizz doesn’t process information as fast as the rest of us” Grian

“Right so this is a bit of a puzzle” Grian

“You-you made us do equations!” Jim

“HE KNEW WHAT IT WAS AND HE LET ME BUILD THIS!” Grian

“Let’s agree. That was a disaster.” Jim

“No but genuinely what the heck is this thing?” Joel

“Oh! What are you doing back here???” Joel

“It’s far better than wizard pig” Grian

“Oh my god” Grian

“Gravity is a bit stronger and that Jim” Grian

“It’s not really important I’m just teaching you a lesson” Grian

[hatsukeii]

12:51 FM / K. AKAASHI

BROWSE EPISODES HERE

-PROLOGUE: 12:51 AM-

01:43 ━━━━●───── 15:58 ◁ PREVㅤ ❚ ❚ ㅤNEXT ▷ ㅤ

warning(s): use of y/n (format)

wc: ~1.0k

Akaashi: Is this thing...working?

Y/n: Course it is! Hear that? It's whirring, that means something has to be working.

Akaashi: You know what else whirred? My old laptop that blew up in physics last month.

You tap the microphone, and a high pitched ring sounds from the speakers. Akaashi slaps the headphones on, forgetting that they are connected to the two microphones.

Y/n: Ow! What the hell?

Akaashi: You haven't put the windscreen on yet! Mute the mic!

One hand over your left ear, the other hand scrambles for the mute button to stop the ringing, and Akaashi breathes a sigh of relief as the auditory torment comes to an end. You let go of your ear, now shuffling through papers and packaged food for the foam cover that has been buried beneath them. You manage to fish out a ball of tangled cables, the black piece of foam trapped in between. Pulling and threading wires through each other, they loosen enough to release the windscreen from their mess, and you stretch it over the metallic mesh of your microphone.

Y/n: There, is that better? I think it's better.

Akaashi: Much better.

Y/n: It's official, sound engineering is my future calling.

Akaashi: The last time you used my guitar amp, you almost blew up the insides plugging a bass into it. Please stay far away from sound engineering.

Y/n: You're no fun Keiji. Loosen up! Relax!

Akaashi: I'll relax when I walk us out of this studio in one piece. Why is the mic still whirring? I don't like that.

You clear your throat, before snatching a pack of melon bread and ripping open the plastic wrap haphazardly. Crumbs land on the pop filter of your microphone, and Akaashi clicks his tongue, swiping them off gently from beside you. From the recording booth, two bells sound simultaneously- the muffled, distant class bell from the neighbouring high school, and the booming lunch bell of Fukurodani. 12:51 pm.

Y/n: Hello hello to Fukurodani High! God, this is a really weird time to be broadcasting, isn't it? I mean, who starts lunch almost a whole hour after noon? Like, just pick twelve, or like twelve thirty, right? Even twelve fifty would've made more sense. Why twelve fifty-one?

Akaashi: Yeah, but that gives us a killer podcast name, doesn't it? 12:51 AM sounds way better than 12:50 AM.

Y/n: That's- good poi- Keij- input is- crashed?

Akaashi's audio cuts off, popping and crackling through his headphones as you continue to speak. He clicks his tongue, flicking the mic once, twice, and a third time with his finger. When that doesn't work, he cranks the mic clamp, and curses beneath his breath just quietly enough to not be picked up by the microphone. Pushing and twisting it around, he finds the perfect position, just above his head, angled upwards ever so slightly. Yes, he has to crane his neck for the duration of the podcast, and he can already feel the muscles in his shoulders tensing. But he can hear your voice perfectly this way, the silent humming of static buzzing unobtrusively beneath your talking. He's going to feel the strain at volleyball after school, but this is close enough to perfect for the broadcast.

Y/n: Alright, it's registering again.

Akaashi: I give it another five minutes to cut out again.

Y/n: Man, can't the school fund for a better PR system or something? Keiji, remember that one time we had a bomb threat and the announcement wasn't working in our classroom?

Akaashi: Yeah, this might just get us killed one day. To any teachers listening to this, can we please get a PR system upgrade?

Y/n: And that's not even the worst part! We're using AM radio at the moment, but if only we could use FM... not like anyone would notice the difference anyways.

You take a bite of your melon bread, and crumbs fall onto your pop filter again. Akaashi can't help but to swipe them off the foam cover for you, even as you keep talking. The recording booth now smells like metal sound equipment, with an odd hint of artificial melon.

Y/n: Anyways, you are currently tuned in to 12:51 AM radio! We're your hosts, y/n-

Akaashi: And Akaashi. Fukurodani's weird lunch time means that no one else is using the same frequency as we are, so we can actually run this show without any interference. Hooray to that.

You laugh at Akaashi's random spiel, punching his arm. He rubs his bicep, even though you didn't hit him that hard, before realising that his head is off centre from the microphone. He readjusts to his original seating position swiftly.

Y/n: Oh come on Keiji, no one understands enough about radio frequencies to get that! What's important is that we'll be your central student hub for-

Akaashi: I don't think we can call ourselves the student hub, isn't that the wellbeing area upstairs?

Y/n: ...True. Well! The two of us will be your main source of lunch entertainment once a week then! I'm not even too sure what our main topics are gong to be, so I guess stay tuned and be surprised?

Akaashi: I second that sentiment, stay tuned and be surprised everyone, because we'll be surprising ourselves as well. These episodes are available to watch on the school's website, so if you ever feel like going back to an episode again, or there was something you didn't quite catch, you can go back any time for it.

Y/n: Buuuut all you gotta do is show up at school, and you'll get the unedited, unfiltered first edition of each episode! How 'bout that!

Akaashi: Correct. The school is definitely not making sure we endorse good attendance.

Y/n: Don't say that Keiji!

You punch his side this time, and Akaashi snickers at your weak hit, head staying scarily still as he catches your wrist in his grasp while you pull away. You twist your hand from his fist, smacking his hand, before erupting into a fit of giggles. He raises his brow tauntingly, watching you turn back to your microphone from the corner of his eye. You take a deep breath in, and Akaashi doesn't miss the way your fingers grip the edge of the table so hard that they turn pale. You've never been this quiet.

Y/n: Now, without further ado....

He thinks you'll do just fine.

Akaashi: Welcome, to the first edition of 12:51 AM radio.

author's note: do you guys fw the script format? I'll probably be mixing this and full prose between chapters, but I've been really getting into scriptwriting and staging things, but i'm not exactly a filmmaker so scriptwriting is all i can do. take it as dialogue practice i guess. hope you guys enjoyed anyways!

tags: @wyrcan @kawoala @bakery-anon @catsoupki @chuuya-brainrot @hiraethwa @fiannee @staraxiaa @akaakeis @velvetreds @tokeposts @kongkhoi @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @kuroppiii @bailey-reeds @kameyyy @tokeposts @tobiosluvr @gumims

p.s if you're not in the general taglist, comment/ask for tag if you'd like to be included in the taglist for this series!

[mari-lair]

Good point, but he also made friends with the ants before he knew Kite was dead. But geez, Gon desperately trying to get Killua to remember him mixed with Killua's now very skittish personality...although I do wonder when this would have happened? I guess the first thought that comes to mind would be when Killua almost bleeds to death, but there's several places in the arc you could potentially make it. No matter what though, this is so heartbreaking. Trying to get Kite AND Killua back and feeling so alone...part of me wants to explore it further and the other part wants it as far away from me as possible.

As for the Zoldycks, Alluka was locked up when she was pretty young and they were scared of her because they couldn't control her. They spent years with Killua, and although I don't like the Zoldycks, they would be absolutely heartbroken to realize that Killua was dead. Illumi is rather obsessive about Killua so I think that would seriously affect him (he'd still probably try to control Killua), but I don't see them casting him out. But Gon would fight like hell so they wouldn't take him away. He's not letting them hurt him again, not ever.

What hurts more is that while I imagine Killua does his best in the Ant Gon AU to accept him as a new person (Apo), I feel like Gon wouldn't be able to handle that. His name IS Killua, they used to be best friends, why can't he remember?! He tries to be patient, but he's just so hurt and overwhelmed by everything that's happened. No matter what though, he's not leaving Killua's side again. He won't fail him again, and he'll get his memories back at any cost. There has to be a way, and he won't stop until he's whole again. Or maybe if he changes like Killua did, they can be together again...(oh god, imagining them both as ants together...)

...damn, this hurts. Why would you do this to us? XD

Gon did befriend Meleon before learning Kite is dead but I still can't personally see him targeting ants as a whole cause he always treated them as individuals, being angry when they treated their friends as trash even before Kite's death and choosing to trust Meleon when he was already full of rage from seeing Kite's broken body. I think (?) Melon even mentioned that when he saw Gon, he saw a 'beast' in him.

He also never blames the king/queen or another ant when Kite did die, it's just Pitou, (which split to himself too since Pitou shows compassion and stop being an 'easy' target for gon's hate) from start to finish (sorry for the side track I know it was a minimal thing of your ask but I get too excited when I talk about CA Gon, I will yap about my boy!! yufgytfdyt)

I'll admit I didn't have a specific timeline in mind of when Killua was turned (again the lore is not in my hands) but your idea of him being transformed during the cave breaks my heart. It would have to be an au where the queen somehow didn't die (maybe the king wasn't born prematurily? idk), since only she can birth chimera ants from what I remember, but AUs are all about bending canon and the mental image of Gon never getting the phone call from Killua and slowly realizing people are acting as if he is already dead so he explodes and goes to search for him make me sad... (So i am sharing cause i must spread my pain)

man... I don't even want to think about Gon's mental state, it makes me too sad... I will lose my whimsy and get too focused on this au..

Yes, I agree about the zoldycks! I don't think they would lock up, disown, or ignore ant!killua, they are very tuned to family and indeed love him lots (twisted as said love is), I just don't think they would still want to make him the heir, cause even outside the whole 'non human' thing, Killua is irreparably anxious now. This is not a ploy to try to control him and make him leave Gon to die and become an assassin, is just who he is, and someone that get anxious in the face of power/the unknown is a weakness even to an assassin in big doses. But mentioning Illumi and the family heartbreak does make me realize something! The zolfyck would also want to bring his memory back, and considering the needle, if anyone would be able to get his memories back it would be Illumi. Gon love can make him remember flashes and vague memories (I adore how love make nen do incredible feats in this manga) but getting his whole life forcefully and violently back from start to finish? Illumi is the answer. And he will try to control him too, likely better since he now have both manipulation nen and Killua's memories to use against Ant!Killua.

I really like the idea Gon can't adapt to 'Killua' no longer being Killua. Cause for as sweet as he can be Gon is self-centered as hell so is very on brand, and to make things even worse than the Killua with Apo scenario, ant!Killua (who I don't have a name for so you can come up with one Edit: his name is Lua) is quick to give up, he doesn't want to get into a big argument and make Gon upset and Gon is already very sad (note: Ant!Killua just assumed saying gon is wrong about this would lead to an argument, so in practice they barely reach the talking stage, which just make gon fully confident Killua also wants to be Killua again, so he is more reckless about it and make killua hate it more but gon is doing it for him, and is an endless circle someone pls help them-)

[oddverse]

Don't Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)

(Prosciutto/Pesci but mostly Prosciutto in this one)

Pt. 1

September, 2000

A young blonde, thin and yellow-haired, wrapped in a thin, yellow bathrobe, sits alone in a yellow apartment. Enfolded by deep, vanilla colored light spilling through amber curtains. Incense filling each room to hide the smell of cream rinse and tobacco smoke.

Bzzt!

The message alert breaks whatever trance he was in. There's only one person who texts him.

'bro!' 2:21

'try and come over later!' 2:21

Prosciutto is already rolling his eyes at the small cellphone, Pesci knows just how much the pet names peeve him off.

"bro!", "dude!", "dawg!", etc. etc.!

'Uff!'

'Not even a capitalization either…'

He ought to ignore the message outright just to spite him, but they both know he's not going to do that. He'd never act like it around the rest of the squad but Pesci knows just how fond his "Bossman" is of him.

Prosciutto huffs in defeat at that, testing the call button with his thumbnail, he wants to know just what his coworker has planned for tonight.

Ring~  ring~  ring~ ring ~

Ring~  ring~  ri-

Tch!

Clap! Snapping the phone shut!

'I bought him the damned thing so he'd use it!'

Tossing the little brick out of his sight, landing it somewhere on the living rooms futon, he abandons the source of frustration for his bathroom mirror. He expects a little more attentiveness from his 'student'. Leaning into the glass and scanning his face for any blemish he might miss.

He scoffs aloud at the thought, finally removing hair pins set from the night before.

'Student! That mama's boy is a head taller than me!'.

Bangs freed and framing his face, blonde locks cascading down after each pin.

Shoulder length and caressing his neck, he cranes and twists his head to watch the hair fall, gliding into place.

It was actually about twelve cm, but that homemade mohawk he sports could give him the extra dozen to make it so, dwarfing near everyone in the room.

Though... Pesci was tall when they first met, maybe not quite as broad then, but you'd never be able to tell with how much the young man hunched and hid behind his own size.

'How disappointing…'

Risotto was not too fond of taking in another stray after he had just gotten Melone, their previous newbie, settled in and going solo. Even if he already had the stand, even if he had landed right into their palms, Nero was nothing if not selective.

"This isn't a YMCA."

"The Squadra has no room for a common thug."

"We have just weened that new one off of Gelato."

"No."

The sheer potential swayed their capo in the end, perhaps worn down by Prosciuttos insistence. It was better that way, rid the chance of meeting again with the competition.

"If I do this it is your responsibility to have him aware of what we are, what we do, and what will be expected of him in the future, I will set up the apprenticeship but after that this will be your project alone. I will not accept failure on either part."

Prosciutto remembers the delight in his face. His very own project.

Oblivious to the smile appearing from the memory, he's near finished with his own coiffure, both hands working behind his head to twist and tie the last of his hair into the several tight buns, not a strand out of place. Subtle pride swelling at a job well done, he might even opt out of hairspray this time.

He recalls Pesci saying he recognized it, the style, what he was going for at least, from a magazine he'd seen some time ago.

Gucci or Versace, he couldn’t quite remember, but that was enough to intrigue Prosciutto, Pesci wasn't incorrect and similar tastes could spell good team work, synergy.

Perhaps it did work since now he's watching himself in the mirror get ready for a playdate he hasn’t even accepted invitation from yet.

'Sucker.' he muses.

No, he's got a better one.

'More like 'Hook, Line, and Sinker...'

'Clever…'

Ring~!

 Right on time, internal applause halting as he scrambles room to room for the anticipated call, snatching  it up from the corner of the sofa.

Ring~!

He's upright and quick, fingers going to accept the call before he has to pause.

Ring~!

Watching it flash Pescis number, ringing out again and one more time, he can't help but think, 'whipped'…

He finally flips it open, placing it to his ear coolly as he can manage, as if Pesci was looking at him now, as if to make up for the display, he hesitates for a second before answering.

 "Pronto."

'Smooth…'

"Ciao! Prosciutto!" He already falls for the enthusiasm. Bitterness dissolving like a tablet in water.

"Ciao Pesci." Monotone barely hiding the warmth in his voice. How dare you. 

"I didn’t mean to miss your call-" I forgive you.

"Were you... coming over still?" So meek. He already knows the answer. Prosciutto has to contemplate his response.

A strand of hair lands on his nose, he blows it away.

"I'll head by." He doesn’t push any further, Pesci can just surprise him.

The call ends, Prosciutto does not say goodbye. He needs to get dressed anyway.

It's still over another half hour before he's out the door and descending the apartment stairs, dress shoes clacking with each step. He strides through, making quick work for the exit before anyone can notice him for long, or vice versa. No time to people watch today.

Once outside, the first thing he notices is the heat, balmy from the late summer, sun beaming down on his head, turning the honey blonde into platinum with its rays.

He lifts his chin up to feel it on his face, eyes squinting involuntarily to see comfortably, navy and ochre  backdropped by a clear lazuline sky. 

Pesci's place isn't too far from here, it'll be a walk but nothing Prosciutto needs a vehicle for, he likes the scenery anyway.

He'll take note of each window he passes, ignoring the name of the shop and its merchandise, only checking out the reflection inside every time.

It still takes a moment to get to where he’s going, delving deeper and deeper into the city with each passing minute. The further he goes, the more litter he has to kick out from under him, and he wonders how responsible Pesci is for some of it. The concrete path he follows is stained dark and older than he is. Loose cigarette butts and broken glass seem to mock him, he doesn’t belong here anymore.

He flexes his forearm and raises it to his face, sleeves pulling away to reveal an Oystersteel wrist watch.

‘4:02’ He reads. He's been walking for 40 odd minutes now.

He can see the complex in the distance now, shooting his cuffs as he closes in on his destination. He’ll have to take a moment and touch himself up before greeting his subordinate. Hands smoothing hair and face as he makes his way up the entrance steps, stopping right before the door to take in the dark building, old and peeling in the sun.

Prosciutto knows it’s no Ritz Carlton, but Pesci never expected more, especially with the chump change he’s making now, he almost wishes better for the young man.

But that thought is waved away as soon as it appears, his hand reaching for the handle, the stray hair falls in his face again. 

He tucks it away.

[the-illiterate-pirate]

JoJo Masterlist

* = Nsfw

° = Angst

× = Yandere

≈ = Family fic

© = Crack fic

Robert Speedwagon

• If I Was Your Vampire

Dio Brando

• In Due Time°

• Shame on the Night*

Joseph Joestar

• In-A-Godda-Da-Vidda°

Caesar Zeppeli

• In-A-Godda-Da-Vidda°

Pillarmen

• Pillow Talk

• Coddling Santana and Wamuu (HCs)

• Pillarmen with a child "hostage" (HCs)

Wamuu

• Love Machine*

Crusaders

• Them falling in love (HCs)

• Singing "Tequila" on karaoke night (HCs)

Jotaro Kujo

• One Shot, 2 Shot ©

• Bring on the Night*

• Feel Good Inc.

Mohammed Avdol

• Burnin' for You

Terence D'Arby

• Holding on to You*

Josuke Higashikata

• Don't Stop Me Now

Rohan Kishibe

• Finding out their S/o is pregnant (HCs)

Akira Otoishi

• Pepper

Hayato Kawajiri

• A Little Bit Off Today ≈

Yoshikage Kira

• Beggin'*

• Modern Love*

Guido Mista

• Looking for a Kiss*

La Squadra

• Japanese Mythology HCs

• Seducing La Squadra* (HCs)

• NSFW headcanons*

• No Rest for the Wicked AU HCs

Melone

• Him with your pet tortoise (HCs)

Diavolo / Vinegar Doppio

• Head Like a Hole, Ch. 1

Weather Report

• Selkie out of Water, Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4

• Dancing in the Moonlight

• Canned Heat

• Electric Love ×

• Dad Report ≈

• Dreams of a Samurai*

• Cold as Ice

• What's New Pussycat*

• Finding out their S/o is pregnant (HCs)

• S/o is on their period (HCs)

Emporio Alnino

• Thank You (for sending me an angel) ≈

Narciso Anasui

• Dating HCs

• S/o is on their period (HCs)

Jotaro Kujo

• Drive*

Enrico Pucci

• Fallen Angel*

• Lady in Red*

• My Light*

• Saints an' Sinners*

• Take Me to Church*

• That's Life

• Finding out their S/o is pregnant (HCs)

• S/o on their period (HCs)

Johngali A.

• White Room*

Thunder McQueen

• SFW & NSFW HCs*

• (You) Shook Me All Night Long*

D an G

• SFW & NSFW HCs*

Donatello Versace

• To Heal*

Perla Pucci

• General platonic HCs

Gyro Zeppeli

• Hayloft*

• Hayloft II*

• Kickstart My Heart*

• Whole Lotta Love*

Diego Brando

• Moonage Daydream*

Sandman

• Tell Him That His Lonesome Nights Are Over, Pt. 1 || Pt. 2*

Mountain Tim

• Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)*

Funny Valentine

• Cupid's Chokehold ×

Oyecomova

• Oye Cómo Va*

Blackmore

• I Surrender*

• Twisted Nerve ch. 1

D-I-S-C-O

• Dating HCs*

Josefumi Kujo

• Dating HCs (Ft. Kira)

Jobin Higashikata

• Hard Lovin' Man*

Aisho Dainenjiyama

• Keep On Loving You

Tooru

• Can't Help Falling in Love

• Bad Case of Lovin' You

• Tooru HCs* (SFW and NSFW)

• Yan!Tooru HCs*

• Doctor play with Tooru* (HCs)

• Tooru x Nurse!reader*

Paco Lovelantes

• Good Old-fashioned Lover Boy

[thesupernaturalhouse]

My favorite games lore is so good, and this cat named Colin- damn did the cretaors do a good job at making us dislike him- CAUSE I DO!!! He irritates me so much

So, basically the guild saved the world and now their being inspected by this prick, and he's just taking eveything so literal-

Oh also this isn't the first time they've saved the world liek dude, these cats are the ONLY thing keeping your sorry asses from being destroyed like calm your ass down please😭

Like, this cat has no fucking chill, a guild member is baking? 'waste of resources' someone is tagging along on a mission for moral support? 'questionable hero chocies' HE ACTIVELY GOT ONE SENT TO JAIL, the one who took one for the team and could've died from doing so to defeat the big bads this eyar and is judging them for romantic relationships

They were being so nice/tolerable to him and he's just taking every little detail and twisting it to what he thinks is going on, he's not even doing his job he's just doing it to be petty at this point, subconsciously I think but still, take a chill pill-

They are friends with Santa Claus, his not so evil brother, his duaghter- their friends with the games version of the God of love herself- I'm pretty sure their on good terms with the king and one of his kids

He's nitpicking and writing notes that will help judge their guild/families fate, and its not even on anything important it about their mood, how they make potions, how they make food- their making potions in advance so they don't gotta rush if they need them and he's judging them for it

They've timetravled which consequently made adult love children of 2 cats- I am telling you, I don't even knwo all the lore but what I do know- its amazing and I love this game so much

There is so much rep to btw, like there eis a whole convo between one cat and the God of love about aromanticism and how "you can feel love, you just feel it in diffrent ways" Their also asexual and nonbinary, but go by any pronouns

an openly lesbian cat just decked out in rainbow, there's an agender cat, bisexuals, lesbians, gays, it's awesome; and there neurodivergent rep to I believe

And these cats got so much personality to them

Anyways i just really want to see the guild liek. Turn on him because now he got one of their members arrested, and i swear these guys are like family

Is he just doing his job? Yeah, but he's also taking it way to far, liek dude....nobody cares if somebody has a mini bakery in the guild, you're just doing it cause you're mad you didn't get a bigger job and are taking it out on innocent poeple

And I'd say that it's just my found family talking but they relly are like a family- oh also said cat is named "purrcis" and he ONE of the adult timetravel love child, he's amazing, bro nearly died for this kingdom and your taking him to jail to have his magic tested or whatever, leave my poor introverted boy alone

I just want the guild to like, take Colin down a few pegs cause he's like a 19 year old who just got out of lawyer school and thinks he knows everything

Long story short, I don't care. This man needs to be taken down, like, 20 pegs because these cats could save his life and he'd nitpick how they fought

Even the kids hate him- they named a melon after him and blew it up and I love it so much

He might look cute but he is so irritatingly frustrating and such a PRICK

So when he does get taken down a few pegs, it's gonna be all the more satisfying

[noroi1000]

May I request something which is sort of a scenario as a part of the the recent mafia gojo fic since as it has arranged marriage if i were to be expanding this request it would also be an arranged marriage too so it would be better if connected to the mafia gojo oneshot. So basically the scenario could be in their wedding life when they didn't have kids and it's basically reader's ability to be playful and cheerful when she wants to which is a loveable traits of hers and here in this scenario reader n gojo r making fun of the people they hate in the mafia world while reading is dramatically impersonating them perfectly making both gojo n reader laugh when gojo guesses the right person who reader is impersonating which is just many of the reasons gojo gave up his playboy life because of falling deeply in love with her even though she might not reciprocate his love but certainly treats him well. This could be a scenario when they're on their luxurious honeymoon trip but again not an necessary

( Sorry if this wasn't clear as english is not my native language ) 

I don't love him, but I want to be with him 3

"Haha! And then – And then Gakuganji always makes silly faces!” He said laughing.

He suddenly grabbed his cheeks, pulling them down slightly, simulating that he had wrinkles.

And he also stretched his jaw forward to lisp and change his voice.

You laughed when you heard his stories about the people who attended their meetings.

This Gakuganji is an elder from another mafia.

He is like an antiquated tree, but the older he gets, the more he needs.

Especially when it comes to their contract with the Gojo family.

The old man was in several other mafias for many years. But they were all the strongest.

You were laughing at him because every time he sees someone from Gojo, he looks like he suddenly got rabies.

You've seen him once or twice, and you confirm what your husband says.

This man looks like a bulldog that's already wrinkled too much. He gets a sudden rage when he sees Satoru and wants to attack. Whenever she yells at him, it sounds like he's barking.

You watched as Satoru twisted his face with his fingers, and started mimicking what the old man said.

"Young man.... Respect your elders.... You damn brat.... The youth of today have no respect at all... Gojo Satoru, don't be a child and stop smiling!" he said, faking his voice, only to lie down on the couch later and laugh with a little red on his cheeks from the heat inside the room.

When your laughter died down, you wanted to ask him something.

Have you ever wondered why his head is so big...

"Satoru, I have a question." You said before giggling softly. "Why does his head look like a melon that is slowly molding?"

He gave you a questioning look before bursting out laughing, imagining a melon with a gray beard and those brows like moths.

"Don't you think he looks a bit like a moth?" he asked hugging a pillow to his chest.

You corrected yourself as you sat in the chair next to him.

"Moth?" You grunted suddenly imagining a moth yelling at Satoru.

You started laughing.

He, when he imagined a moth in his clothes, also began to laugh. A hairy insect that holds a wooden cane.

Laughing, he shifted to the side, and suddenly fell off the couch, hitting the wooden floor with a thud.

He uttered a soft "uh" as he fell, but he continued to laugh as the image of the Gakuganji moth still lingered in his mind.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you imagined his face falling off his head, from old age.

"What this time? Tell me!" he moaned with a red face.

"After all, he looks like his face has started to roll down from old age..." you muttered.

"You're right! Go down!" He laughed, laying on his back. "He's going to be walking on his own beard soon! I'm waiting for him to ride bike and he'll get caught in the chain of his bike now!"

You had enough, you kept laughing.

Your faces were red when you couldn't breathe properly and your faces were already aching from smiling.

You got down from your chair wanting to get a drink because laughing really made you thirsty for water.

Walking forward, you caught your foot on the mafia boss - your husband - lying on the floor.

Falling onto his chest, you laughed, not even bothering to get down.

You do not care.

You can rest like this...

Lying on top of him, you listened to his breathing and his soft laugh. Also laughing all the time.

You sat down suddenly on his stomach and smiled as you dug your finger into his chest.

"Guess who I'm pretending to be, okay?" You grunted as you waited for his response.

"Only if I get a reward~." He gave you a smile.

"What's that?" You asked slightly serious, but there was still a smile on your lips.

"Kiss~."

You looked at him questioningly.

"Fine. You'll get a kiss." you put your finger on his cheek. "Then guess who it is."

Suddenly you took an empty glass from the table and pretended to drink something.

"Nanami?" he asked seeing you pretending.

You can pretend to drink tea.

You shook your head.

You pushed the glass away and brought it closer again, tapping the edge of your hand lightly on the neck. Hoping it will look like you're showing you're drinking alcohol.

"Hmm... Shoko?" he asked, placing two fingers on his chin.

You shook your head again.

You took the glass and pretended to drink very greedily.

"Oh! That Zenin Drunker!" he chuckled pointing at you.

"You guessed it." You smiled. "So your reward."

You leaned in and placed your lips on his soft cheek.

At the same time, he grabbed your arms and flipped you onto your side so you were underneath him.

As he grabbed your thighs, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

He connected your lips in a long kiss.

You didn't mind him touching you.

You've been in this forced marriage for a few months now, and there's a lot more going on between you than just hugging and kissing.

You put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away so you could catch your breath.

Your relationship as lovers allows you to do that.

"I remember what happened on our honeymoon." he said with a smile as he gently placed his stomach and hips against your body. Still keeping part of his body on the forearms that were on either side of your head.

"I didn't want it."

"But you rode with me anyway." replied. "And it was on this island where we were, I really realizing that you are the woman I'm starting to fall in love with."

You looked at him, slightly disbelieving.

You can't get used to him saying that...

He still does it, even if it would hurt anyone to know that someone they love doesn't feel the same way.

It would be really painful. But he doesn't show it.

Because it's enough for him that you like him. That you treat him as a close person without love.

That you're with him, and you're happy about it.

He knew that now, after these few months with him, you don't want to change that.

Your behavior and all you made him feel that you are important to him. Even if you don't love him, he will still love you.

Every time he looked into your eyes, he felt like he was drowning in it. He was drowning in feeling.

It was the first love he had.

Even if there was something before you, it wasn't the same.

He's never been married before. He didn't know what it was like.

And now that he's bound to you somehow forever, he felt different.

"But I... I'm sorry..." you muttered.

"I do not mind. You will still be with me. After all, you're happy." he said with a smile. "We're together."

"I like being with you."

He was glad to hear that.

Even if you didn't love him, you treated him the way a wife treats her husband.

He gave up his life for you.

You placed your hands on his cheeks, stroking them gently.

You want to do something to make your happiness last much longer.

Something so that your happiness does not disappear.

You want to be with him all the time.

To keep your life like this, you can do anything to just be with it longer.

And suddenly he called back.

"Have you ever thought about children?"

[bubblespalace]

(A) Call Him Out {The Accords}

“Sir, I don't understand your language, but I don't think that's a very nice way of talking to this girl.” You spoke, your voice was a tad husky from the fight you had been in only about ten minutes earlier.

The redhead’s gaze snapped to your face, looking quite angry, those emerald green eyes piercing into your skull like razor-sharp blades. “Listen here, melons, you don't have the right to tell ore-sama what ore-sama can and can't say to chichinashi.” He spoke bitterly, he had a thick Japanese accent when he spoke English.

You narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed. “Don't call me melons, Christmas.” You spat in defiance as you watched his handsome face twist in anger.

The green eyes you were admiring widened at the nickname. “ Christmas? You have some nerve.” He paced up to you, so slowly it seemed to play out in slow motion. “I don't tolerate girls with nerve.”

You leaned in closer to the man, getting close to his face and speaking with a slight threat in your voice, but also sinister calmness. “Then don't tolerate me. I don't care, Christmas .”

The redhead blinked in surprise at the reply, staying still for a few moments, seeming to explore your eyes. He smirked up at you. “Fine then, melons. You're not worth ore-sama's time anyways.” He glanced harshly at the blonde, speaking words in Japanese to her before walking out the door, letting it slam carelessly behind him.

The blonde started to follow him, but you grasped her wrist quickly. She turned, startled by the touch. “Hey, do you need some help? I can get you away from him. He shouldn't be treating you like that, it's very rude.”

The other woman looked down to the floor, pursuing her lips. She was obviously uncomfortable in her situation. “It's fine, miss.” She said, a tiredness graced her feminine voice. This girl had the same thick accent the man had. “When Ayato-kun says something like that, the best thing to do is to follow him.”

You parted your lips, wanting to say something. However, it wasn't your place. If this Ayato man you had encountered was really dangerous, wouldn't this girl be smart enough to run?

“Okay, but may I give you my phone number, I can help you if you need it.” You offered. The woman's eyes widened, seeing an opportunity, she nodded quickly. You smiled and ripped a small piece of paper off a poster hung on the gas station window, writing down your number quickly. “My name is (Y/N).” You handed the slip to her.

“I'm Yui-chan.” She smiled and gently took the paper from her, hiding it in her school uniform.

You smiled, happy to see Yui’s face in a more happy expression. “Nice to meet you, Yui. Don't ever hesitate to call me.” You gently let go of her wrist, after rubbing a circle into her inner palm kindly.

“Chichinashi!” Ayato called from outside. 

Yui cringed, briskly walking toward the door and opening it slowly. “Nice meeting you too, (Y/N). And thank you.”

You gave her a friendly finger wave, smiling kindly. “Goodbye for now, Yui.”

Yui smiled wider and walked out the door. You watched her walk up to a limousine, Ayato leaned against the hood of the car. As he ushered her in through the sliding door, you quickly read the license plate, memorizing it in case you would need it. Then you watched it drive away, into the darkness of the night.

You sighed and turned to the cashier. Pressing down four gold pecunia, a currency just for Nephilm, to pay for your cart. The man smiled at you. “It's on the house, Miss Wayland. We just don't see you often enough.”

You smiled gratefully but pushed forward the golden coins. “Consider it a tip then. I don't visit Undercovered stores enough, and you don't get paid enough to deal with the crap The Clave pushes you through.”

The cashier pushed his black hair out of his eyes. “Neither do you.” He replied.

Your smile dropped for a second, you knew it was true. The Clave treated you, and your fellow Nephilim like guinea pigs, like they were dispensable. “Just take the money, please. I won't be needing some for some time now.”

The cashier glanced down at the coins, before looking back up at you and sliding the money off the counter and into the register. “Have a safe journey, Miss Wayland.”

As you walked away from the counter, your stuff in a plastic bag, you saluted to the man, who in turn, saluted back as a sign of respect. “We hope.” You muttered, softly.

[writingboutbrainrot]

All of Me Loaves All of You

[I HECKIN DID IT]

So anyway here's Wonderwall some Louigan slow burn that I will now have to commit to finishing because I saw there's still breath in the community and wanted to join in....

He looked at her as if it were the first time. As if he hadn’t met her 14 years ago, when they began a lifelong rivalry. As if he hadn’t seen her nearly every day for the past 5 years, working together at her dad’s burger joint. 

In a way, he did think of this as the first time. At least, this was the first time he saw her as someone other than the little girl whose bunny hat he took; the little girl who dropped a rotten melon on him and almost got his grungy teenage armpit in her face in return, the little girl who engaged in a snow war with him and yet still helped him when all the girl-jocks of his school were ready to pummel him in ice.

Standing at the bottom of the Belcher house steps in a simple green blouse and black dress pants, hair done up sans hat in a way that accentuated a face that’s been subtly changing, she looked more like a woman. He must’ve forgotten how to blink, because soon she was glaring at him.

“Don’t you say a thing Logan or I swear I’ll-” her threat was cut short by her mother’s own warning.

“Louise, be on your best behavior today.”

The way both Belcher women had their arms crossed and wore admonishing looks could almost be considered comical. The younger broke first, a hand coming up to her chest as she gasped in mock hurt.

“Mother, I am always on my best behavior.” She batted her lashes, Logan wondering when they got so long, as Linda grunted.

“I mean it Miss Missy. This is Tina’s rehearsal dinner, we want this to go as smoothly as possible.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Bob made his way down the stairs. He was still fussing with his tie and grumbling by the time his feet touched the ground floor. Linda gave a small smile as she stepped toward him. Her hands were up and reaching for the tie before she even spoke,

“Here Bobby, let me.”

Finding the simple exchange endearing, Logan grinned to himself. He risked another glance at Louise. The youngest Belcher was fidgeting with a stray bit of curled hair. Logan guessed she was trying to avoid the emotions involved in the scene, she never was one for sappy things. Before she could notice his gaze, Logan switched to looking at a suddenly interesting wallpaper peeling.

“Alriiight, let’s go rehearse that dinner!” Linda soon cheered.

“Lin that’s not what..nevermind,” Bob muttered as he quickly thought better than to try and correct his wife.

-x-x-x-

The rest of the night went more smoothly than any Belcher-related event had ever gone. Louise hoped that meant tomorrow would go just as good, despite it all being a love-fest. She may have a healthy dislike for these kinds of things, but she loved her sister and thought she deserved all the happiness she could get.

Zeke’s family actually wasn’t that bad. A few rowdy kids like he had been, but nothing she had trouble handling. What had been a problem for Louise was the guy who seemed to be staring at her all night. She had no idea what Logan’s problem was, but with her mother’s warning hanging over her head she hadn’t been able to confront him. Therefore she was happy to be back in the safehaven of her bedroom hours later.

Tomorrow probably won’t be any better, she thought as she looked up at her ceiling. In some cruel twist of fate, she and Logan had been chosen as the maid of honor and the best man. Louise tried her best to talk Gene into her nemesis’s place, but he was content with his role as flower bearer/dj.

“Can’t do the music and dance to it at the same time Lou, so no can do.” As she recalled her large brother’s words, Louise felt her face scrunch up. Damn him.

And damn Jimmy Jr for having to be across the country last minute. She was going to be just fine having to do some menial tasks with her sister’s old flame, but noooo he got invited to feature at some prestigious dance seminar. He thought about turning it down to support his friends, but both of them had insisted this would be big for him. That was when Logan walked in for work and Zeke jumped to ask him to stand in. With all three giving him puppy dog eyes, the blonde found it hard to turn down such a big role.

Now she was going to have to dance with that stupid, smug not-so-rich-now boy and do her best to avoid his stupid, smug face. They’d be in close proximity and she wouldn’t be able to slap him for any of the various reasons she would normally find. She would have to be around Logan for hours. With not too many other things to do to distract herself. She’d have to sit there and her mind would fill with wishes of him complimenting her on how grown up she looked, how nice she cleaned up, saying anything to show that he realized she wasn’t a kid anymore.

Oh shut UP Louise Belcher! You do NOT care about that scuzzbag and how he feels about you. You’re just being a gross and hormonal person. Stop it! 

The young woman berated herself for letting her thoughts get out of hand. Heaving a sigh, she threw an arm over her face and thought back to when Logan started working at the restaurant...

She’d recently graduated and turned eighteen, opting to take online courses for business rather than leave her family like some other traitor siblings. With only three people, the workload would sometimes become a little much. That’s why Bob had been so quick to hire Logan Barry Bush even against his daughter’s instant protests. The youth had recently come back from his own college exploits, but wasn’t quite ready to go into the work his parents laid out for him. Louise had been adamant about not hiring her arch-nemesis and was ready to start pelting him with condiment bottles the moment he walked in. 

In fact, she’d had a bottle in her hand, arm back as soon as she heard the bell alert the family to the open door..only to freeze when she saw him. After the seconds it took her to take in how he’d filled out over the past seven years; taller, more broad, light scruff covering a jaw that had gotten more defined..the mustard bottle made contact with Logan’s face.

Louise watched as the bottle bounced from that face and landed in his hands. Her dark brown eyes went wide as he looked from the bottle to her and smirked.

“Guess you heard, huh Four Ears?” he said while gently tossing the bottle. After catching the bottle again he lifted the counter and officially invaded the most sacred space Louise had. 

“Yo Mr. B!” he called without a second glance at the teen.

Louise watched in horror as Logan waltzed to the back and greeted her dad with a high five. She angrily wiped down the counter while listening to the banter.

“Logan! It’s nice to have you back,” she heard Bob say. Her face scrunched up as she mocked him, head tilting from side to side. “So you got your master’s? Congratulations.”

“Yeah I did, thanks. Cynthia wouldn’t pay for anything unless I did, something about wanting me to go into a cousin’s business. But since she paid in full already-” Ooof course she did. “-I figured I was free to cut ties.”

“Gene mentioned some of that. I was surprised when he said you were interested in coming back here.”

Louise gripped her rag and gritted her teeth as Logan replied, “Just thought it’d be a good place to try some of the things I learned in culinary classes.”

Bob’s excitement was so obvious, Louise wanted to gag. “You took culinary classes?”

Why don’t you just marry the man? she sneered as she scrubbed an imaginary spot on the counter - ignoring the plenty of actual spots.

Logan laughed and Louise felt her gut clench. “I needed something to cut through the horror of the other business majors.”

The bell jingled again and Louise had never been happier to see Teddy. She called out for a burger of the day before the handyman sat down. Bob could be heard going over the process with the newest burger flipper.

“Bob, Bob you have a new worker?” Teddy asked while leaning to see the kitchen.

“Yes Teddy,” Bob called back.

“Who is it Bobby? Anyone I know?”

Louise loudly groaned. Before the conversation could continue Logan showed his stupid face while putting the burger on the counter.

“Order up Four Ears,” he said, looking smug. Then he turned his attention to Teddy and finger gunned at him. “Long time no see Teddo.”

Louise. Rolled. Her. Eyes. And. Screamed.

Teddy, on the other hand, slapped the counter and gave a singular “HA!” while not noticing the girl’s outburst.

“Teddo, I LOVE it. Bob, call me Teddo from now on. Ahhh..who is this again?”

Louise couldn’t take it. She stormed out the restaurant while still wishing the door could slam. 

She was sick to her stomach, obviously, at the idea of her worst enemy working in her most sacred restaurant and getting buddy-buddy with her dad and Teddy, and no one had even noticed. The sheer audacity!

The Release the Bracken burger sat on the bar for minutes before Teddy realized Louise never gave it to him.

[ x - 1 ]

[albwreckt]

[ challenge ] There's somethin' about a guy this size (not to mention the uh, everything else) that has Hector wondering how he's managed to miss seeing him before. Ah well. No time like the present to fix that, right? "Hey, you, with the arms the size of a melon." Hector is sat at a table, arm held out expectantly. "Name's Hector. Let's wrassle, yeah? Winner gets the other's trinket or whatever." (hec rolled a pathetic 9 godspeed baltie)

It certainly takes one meathead to know another. Balthus’ attention is seized the moment he hears about those watermelon-sized arms, rightfully believing that there’s no one else in attendance who could earn a claim such as that. His mouth twists into a smirk. A challenge: a chance for fame, glory, and pride to shine on him in equal measure. He’ll prove to Hector that he’s King for a reason.

“You’re on, pal–er, Hector!” His elbow crashes against the table with monstrous force. He stands to half his height, kicking his chair back in the process, and revealing what a titan of a man he is. If Hector’s heart felt fear in this moment, Balthus would not blame him. “You sure do know how to speak my language. A wrassle and a bet? Now that’s what I call cuttin’ to the good stuff!” 

They lock hands, firm grips meeting like two unstoppable tides. “I’m Balthus, by the by. You’ll want to remember that when you watch me walk away with your ornament.” And thus, without any more introduction or fanfare, their battle begins. 

Hector proves to be a worthy foe. His constitution backs his arm well, clearly versed enough in handling a weapon to view Balthus’ arm as a handle. But swing with the King as much as he likes, he won’t beat Balthus. This guy’s got a few years on the young noble, and as such, more time spent chucking axes (and breaking fences). His strength and experience are enough to mount him an advantage after some struggle, which he levies against the Ostian until finally his victory is in sight. 

SMASH!

Hector’s wrist hits the table hard enough to wake up any sleeping drunks on the other side. Riotous laughter pours out of Balthus as he straightens his back to soak himself in victory, doing a few paces around their arena with his arms held high. “Not a bad match, but I’ll be taking that,” he snatches the bell off the other’s brooch, “and making myself available for rematches, if you ever feel like taking on the big Balthus once again!”

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: chapter thirty-nine

see my masterpost for what came before this.

Something ain't right. Grog can feel it, like when he eats too much too fast and it all threatens to come back up. He watches Vax curl over the princess, his body heaving with sobs, and he knows that something ain't right. Other guards, each a head or more shorter than Grog, buzz around, and he wants to swat them away like horse flies so that he can think.

She was in here. She was alone. Then she wasn't—the duke. Grog can't remember his name. He was only here for a few minutes. Then he left, and she was alone again. She was crying, then. Grog heard it. He understands that part; the sovereign was a good, kind man, and Grog is sad that he's gone.

After a few minutes, though, the crying stopped. Grog doesn't cry very often, isn't exactly sure how it's supposed to work, but that doesn't seem like very long. Maybe the duke knows something about what had her so upset.

So Grog leaves, just pushes his way through the gathered guards and nosy nobles and heads for the guest wing of the castle. He's not sure if that's where the duke is, but he doesn't know where else to start. Luckily, the duke is in the third guest chamber Grog checks, reading a book (Grog has no hope of discerning the squiggles on the cover to see what it is) on the window seat.

It isn't until the duke lifts his head in great offense that Grog realizes he entered without knocking. "Oh, uh. Sorry."

"I daresay that I would expect better manners from the Royal Guard," the duke spits.

Grog dutifully swallows down his desire to crack his head open like a melon. "Yes, Your Grace. I was only wonderin' if anythin' odd happened when you were in the room with Princess Keyleth." Or, is it sovereign now? Grog's not too sure how the whole thing works.

The duke frowns thoughtfully. "No, nothing I would characterize as odd. She was distraught, of course, over her father's death. I gave her the space to grieve that she requested, which is why I wasn't there long. But she was alive and well when I left."

Huh. Grog guesses he was wrong. He sketches an awkward bow and turns to leave the room. He makes it a few steps down the hall before he stops.

Alive and well. Fairly weird thing for a man to say, especially when Grog never suggested the princess wasn't alive and well. He turns around and heads back.

He must startle the duke with his return, because when he appears in the doorway, the tiny man leaps to his feet, and oh, Grog recognizes that particular shade of fear in his eyes. He's afraid of being caught. The duke begins to twist his hands through the air, and Grog may not be any kind of genius, but he's seen magic before, and he knows that something is coming.

Luckily, Grog is faster. He crosses the guest chamber in two bounds and swallows the duke's hands in his own, lifting him up into the air by his wrists.

"You ought to come with me," Grog rumbles, and he grins at the pathetic little whimper the duke lets out as he turns to drag him back toward the princess.

.

Vax can't breathe. He is beyond words, beyond tears, beyond thought as he clutches his wife's body to his chest. He rocks back and forth, his face pressed into her hair. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. And he has nothing to offer the Raven Queen, no new bargains to strike; he'd already offered his own life for Korrin's, had been roundly shut down by a goddess unwilling to compromise more than she already had.

And why should she? It isn't the Raven Queen's fault that Keyleth is gone. How many more ways could she have made it clearer to Vax that danger still lurked around every corner? It was his responsibility to keep her safe, his responsibility to make sure no harm ever came to her. And once again, he failed her.

He is vaguely aware of commotion behind him, but it isn't until a familiar voice chokes out "Oh sweet Pelor" that he turns his head to see, through watery vision, his sister and Percy, each slack-jawed in horror in the doorway.

"What—what happened?" Percy demands, shoving past guards into the room. His eyes are locked on Keyleth's wan face.

"Vilya," Vex breathes, and Vax can barely understand the word. "I'll...I'll go make sure she's alright." And then Vex disappears, and Vax just stares at the spot she'd left.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Percy shouts again, now behind the settee, glaring at Vax.

"I don't know." He doesn't recognize his own voice, hopes Percy can understand all the things he can't say. "I...I don't..."

"It was him."

As if the hand of the Matron herself has reached down to grasp his head and turn it, Vax looks down at the woman in his arms. Her eyes are open, if just a sliver, and slowly, so slowly, she raises a quaking hand up to point toward the door.

"Keyleth?" He's almost afraid to even say her name, as if doing so might break whatever spell has bound this moment.

She's alive.

Her finger quivers in the air, and it seems to take all of her strength to keep it there. Vax rips his eyes away from her (living moving breathing) face to follow her pointing, and he sees Grog framed in the doorway, Duke Vallen—yes, Vax remembers him all too well—held up by both wrists in one of Grog's massive hands.

Grog seems startled by Keyleth's pointing. He brings his free hand to his own chest. "Me? It wasn't me."

In another circumstance, Vax would find the misunderstanding comical. Not today. He gently lifts Keyleth to rest on the settee, Percy reaching over the back to steady her, and then he whips around and stalks toward the whimpering Vallen. In a flash, Vax's dagger is in his hand, the blade pressed into the duke's throat. Every muscle from his fingertips to his shoulder trembles with tension, with the restraint required to stop himself from slitting this man from ear to ear and letting him bleed out right here in the doorway.

"Percy."

The man in question replies, "Yes?"

"Please take Keyleth to Mistress Pike."

"Of course." There is movement behind him once more, and Vax presses forward, leading Grog, and thereby the sniveling duke in his grasp, back into the hall. This gives room for Percy, Keyleth carried in his spindly arms, to leave the room. As he does, he stops briefly just behind Vax, and he feels a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't take his eyes off of Vallen, but he doesn't need to in order to recognize the weak voice in his ear. "It was him, Vax. All of it."

And then she is gone, ferried down the hall by Percy and a squadron of guards, and Vax presses the blade even deeper into Vallen's neck, enough to draw blood. As crimson beads of it drip down to stain the duke's tunic, Vax watches fear bloom anew on his face, and satisfaction curls hot and cruel in his belly at the sight of it.