#but props to getting there first - dang it

[luanneclatterbuck]

Two goose roofin’

#edit - I’ve been alerted that someone else made a very similar post recently #I don’t follow that one and didn’t see it #but props to getting there first - dang it

[cuteteacakes]

I think I'm ready to start designing the staffs for the 100 Princes Yuuri and Viktor cosplay

#i took it upon myself to make the staffs and crowns and dang it im gonna try #my first eva foam prop aaaaaa #outofcakes [ooc] #i gotta get to work now tho aaaaa

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.   

Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.  

"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.  

"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.  

"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."  

"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.  

"So..."  

"Just go," she snips.  

You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.  

You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.  

You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.  

You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.  

"Dang it," you whisper.  

You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.   

"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"  

You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,   

that needs to be fixed too.  

You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.  

"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.

You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.   

"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.  

"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."  

You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."  

He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."  

You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.  

"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.  

You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.  

You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.  

"And your name? Neighbour?" 

You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out. 

“Is it just you over here?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy. 

“Oh, you got kids? A husband?” 

You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway. 

You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list. 

“Mom,” you say. 

“Ah, makes sense. You in school?” 

You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly. 

“Anyway...” he says. 

You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that. 

“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there. 

You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent. 

“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.” 

You huff and push the mower over. 

“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house. 

“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes. 

You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.” 

“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says. 

You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away. 

The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner. 

“You figure it out?” She asks. 

“No,” you flop onto the couch. 

“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.” 

“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers. 

You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is. 

🏠

Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind. 

As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil. 

You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’. 

You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you. 

You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. 

“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat. 

“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.” 

“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin. 

“Hello?” She sweetens her tone. 

“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.” 

“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.” 

“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.” 

His smile is just as charming as his introduction. 

“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?” 

“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” 

You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.  

“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.” 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #captain america #au #silverfox au

[goosedoes-fics]

Missing

Spiderman Noir x Reader

Content warnings: alcohol mention, no use of y/n, first person (reader pov)

Notes: if you look closely you can see the exact moment that I lost all inspiration to actually finish this oneshot!! anyways yea I was gonna have it from Noir's POV but it would be harder for the reader to be gender neutral if that was the case

~~~~~

The young shamus' office was colder than a summer night in Antarctica. A single light dangled overhead, dimly illuminating the room just enough that the corners were pitch black, but everything else was a bit visible. I had heard tales of the hard-boiled gumshoe, the only private eye in New York to wear a mask. It was pretty dang smart, really. Protecting his identity and all that jazz.

His feet were propped up on his desk, clad in worn leather boots that seemed to have dirt caked in from his many adventures. His fedora covered where his eyes would have been, had he not been wearing a mask that already concealed them.

I took notice of the bottle of moonshine on his desk, picking it up and inspecting the label. "Bit ironic for a detective to be drinkin' hooch, ain't it?"

For a moment, I thought he wouldn't respond, as he didn't look up nor tilt up his hat, but he leaned forward slightly as he addressed me. "Don't blow your wig, pal. You can't convince me ya haven't stepped into a speakeasy a few times."

His retort earned a quiet laugh out of me as I placed the bottle back in its original spot.

The private investigator finally took his feet off the desk and looked up at me. I could only imagine his piercing gray eyes inspecting me. The thought somehow got me flustered, subtle heat rising to my cheeks.

"You got somethin' to say, or are you just gonna stand there gawkin'?" He eventually asked, snapping me out of my stupor.

He reached into a drawer on his desk and took out a cigar, lighting it and putting it up to the fabric of his mask where his mouth would be. "Usually people come in here for me to solve a mystery."

"Oh!" I laughed nervously. Had I been staring at him? Idiot. "Right. Yeah."

Reaching into my back pocket, I retrieved a small photograph, sliding it across the table like an 8 ball in a game of pool.

"My grandma." I tapped the photo. "Y'see the necklace? It's been in my family for decades. And today, it wasn't in the safe."

The detective's interest seemed piqued, at least from what little I could deduce from his body language. "Touched it lately?"

"Not since two months ago. It's only for VERY special occasions." I shrugged, taking a glance at the nameplate on his desk. "Mr. Noir... can you find it?"

The silence was thicker than 5 year old expired eggnog. Golly, how I wished I knew what he was thinking. The only thing I could decipher was a bit of curiosity from the slight tilt of his head.

I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath until I started getting dizzy.

Eventually, he spoke up. "The question ain't can I, toots. It's will I. And the answer is yes."

A small smile spread across my lips as he stood up, handing me back the photograph with a slight tilt of his head.

"Thank you, sir."

The apartment I lived in was quite small, and hardly luxurious. Despite our family heirloom being one of such high worth, we weren't a wealthy family. But I managed to get by. Even if it wasn't large, it was cozy.

"This is your place?" His body language betrayed no thoughts. It was really quite frustrating how little I could infer from him, with only his voice and movements to determine what he was feeling.

"...it's not much," I admitted carefully, "But I do like it."

"And you never thought to sell the necklace?"

"No, sir. It's too important to our family."

Noir hummed softly, inspecting the safe when I pointed it out. He dragged a gloved finger over the surface, a thin layer of dust now coating his fingertip like ash from a fireplace. The motion somehow made me nervous, as if he was convincing me I had something to hide.

Noir looked up at me after a moment's pause. "...Listen, if you can't pay, I can-"

"No." I cut him off. "I can pay. I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't set aside some money."

The vigilante didn't respond. He merely turned back to the safe, closing the door of it before standing up straight again. He looked down at me, and I could practically feel his eyes burning into me.

"...I can't take your money, darlin'."

Frustration boiled inside of me as I took a step forward. "Yes you can. I don't need pity, detective."

A small sigh could be heard through the fabric of Noir's mask. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from having an outburst.

In a swift, almost imperceptible movement, Noir took one of my hands in both of his. The investigator's huge gloved hands dwarfed my own. "You don't understand. I know what happened with yer necklace, I can't ask you to pay me for such a quick job."

It was hard for me to choke out any words. "But-"

"No buts."

"I have to pay you. This is your job," I protested.

Noir was quiet for a moment before cupping my face in his hands. I was aware of heat rising to my cheeks. If he noticed how flustered he was making me, he didn't say anything. "You really wanna pay? I'm not gonna bump gums with you about this."

I nodded stubbornly. Perhaps I didn't quite understand the implications of his words, because after lifting up his mask just above his nose, he kissed me square on the lips.

The light pink on my cheeks doubled, turning my face red as I slowly began kissing back. My mind clouded, halting any racing thoughts and focusing only on the gentleness of his lips.

When he finally pulled away, it felt too soon. I couldn't squeak out any words as he took a step back from me, tilting his hat by the brim with a small nod.

My mind was still in a bit of a daze when he started to leave. "By the way, darlin'." I looked up at him as he spoke to me. "Check the coffee table."

And sure enough, there was the necklace, hidden from view next to a stack of magazines.

#spiderman noir #spiderman #spiderman noir x reader #spider noir #spider noir x reader #noir #noir x reader #into the spider verse #itsv #x reader #itsv x reader #into the spider verse x reader

[woneuntonzz]

ᯓ★ 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭 .ᐟ

📀 ; who's invited to the wedding?

ot7-boyfriend!riize x afab!reader (“𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝” 𝐓𝐢𝐤𝐓𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐈𝐈𝐙𝐄)

contains: fluff, fluff, fluff, cussing, (slight) suggestive tones

- - - - - - - - - - - more under the cut .ᐟ - - - - - - - - - - -

shotaro — “you know my weakness is you.”

You got your phone set up on the tripod in your car as you waited for your boyfriend to finally get in. Seeing his dear little face through the passenger seat window, you’d smile.  knock… knock… you roll down the window to the passenger seat to be met with your boyfriend’s query, “Hi lovely, you’re driving?” “Yes hubby, get in.” As he got in, you would think he didn’t catch what you had just called him, but when you’d finally face him, he’d immediately leave a kiss on your lips. “I missed you, wifey.” You tried playing it off, trying to sound seemingly confused as you replied, “I missed you too, but, wifey?” “Do you not like it? you just called me hubby?” and he would pout ever so slightly. Dang it. Your prank was slowly losing its initiative, why was he being so adorable? eyes shimmering and reflecting the light that bounced off the mirrors of your car, almost as if looking up at you and pleading for an answer.  “I just wanted to try out a TikTok trend…” you’d spew in defeat. “Getting married is a trend on TikTok now?” it was hard to tell whether he was being sarcastic or not, but his voice was three octaves higher.  “We’re not…” well maybe not now. —you thought, but you’d only grow weaker upon seeing the frown on his face. And very faintly, he’d repeat your words in a question. “We’re not?...” “Taro…” “Y/n…” with a warm, gentle grasp on your hand, “Will you marry me?” Your evening would end somewhere dim and cold, where the only warmth you could secure is from each other’s touch, and each other’s voice, and his little giggles when he continued to tease you about it.  “Got tired of baby so you wanted to call me hubby already?” he’d coo on you, pinching one of your flushed cheeks. “You’re so cute, my wifey.” Whatever your answer was, the camera did not catch it —props to you for forgetting to hit the record button.

eunseok — “black shadow is married, it's canon.”

His eyes displayed skepticism, yet he wore a smirk. You had set up your front camera in front of you both, seated next to each other on the floor in front of the coffee table. He watched your sheepish smile grow wider when you had settled yourself next to him after hitting record. “What’s that for?” he’d ask, almost in a laugh.  “So I’ve been seeing this little trend on TikTok…” you’d look at him for a short while to see his reaction. “Okay Miss-chronically-online.” he tittered at your glaring eyes, despite your attempts to look intimidating, he only found you cute. “I was kidding, go on love.” “So as I was saying—” you’d look into the camera, “So my husband is here to tell us about the things he found interesting about me.” You’d see his widened eyes, lips forming a bashful and downturned smile.  “So Seok, go tell them.” After a long blink and a deep inhale, he would look right into the camera, “Well, first of all, I think you in your wedding dress would be quite interesting.” And for a minute you —almost— forgot this was supposed to be a prank. “What do you mean?” you laughed at him. “I’m your husband.”  Say that again, please. —you’d think to yourself. “Seok, it was an accident!” a sweet and soft giggle leaves your mouth, “Okay, okay, for real now, tell them what got you interested in me.” He might’ve looked crazy in the eyes of the unknowing, but he was too in love to even care. Chuckling to himself, he’d repeat the words he’d want to hear everyday for the rest of his life, and only from you, “Husband…”

sungchan — “babies don't come from the sky.”

Off the bat, he’d find it incredibly amusing that you’d ask him to film a TikTok with you. He’d had his few every-other-day scrolls on the app, but this time he wasn’t quite sure of what you were bringing him in for.  “Sit down, Chan, I'm gonna hit record.” you spoke to his tall figure that stood in front of you at the foot end of your bed.  “What are we doing?” he very innocently questions.  “We’re gonna unbox something, now sit your ass down.” you looked up at him, and soon with a sulking face as you pleaded, “Please? we’ll be quick, then we could do the thing you wanted to try.” He immediately got himself seated next to you on the soft mattress. “Alright, let’s go!” You chuckle, taking out a box of something —something you didn’t put much thought into, anyways, it would only serve as a disguise for the actual purpose of the rolling camera.  “Can I open it?” you nod at his question.  But then you’d abruptly stop him. “Oh, wait! show it to the camera.” He’d hesitantly —and quite sheepishly— bring himself, then the box closer to the camera, giving it a little 360 of the box. “So what my husband is holding right there is the very exclusive—” “Are you pregnant?” “What?” you were visibly taken aback by his ‘question’, in hindsight it could be funny, but it would send anyone to shock, quite possibly a coma —you thought. “I am not Mister!” “Oh. Then. Why. Husband.” you pressed your lips together, suppressing a laugh. “Ah, I see how it is… you’re tryna get me to give you a baby.” “Jung Sungchan?” “The bed’s right here babe.” “You are vile.”

wonbin — “make-up or make love?”

“Please Binnie, I’m gonna make you look so pretty, I promise!”  It’s been a good ten minutes of you pleading with your beautiful boyfriend to film a make-over TikTok, with a hidden motive of course. He’d finally give up after your seventy-eighth please. “Fine, just 'cause I owe you one.” he’d utter, letting out a beaten exhale. You’d have him sitting right in front of your phone, like a vanity. Well, while make-up would usually come easy, it would only be difficult when he’d keep his eyes on yours that were so concentrated on making sure you were in fact making him look like a pretty little princess —if he already wasn’t one—  and if you suddenly shift forward and the shorter strands of your hair fall at the sides of your face, his finger would glide against the skin on your face, tucking the hair behind your ear.  “Wonbin.” “Why baby?” “You’re distracting me.” He’d let out a cocky laugh. “Really?” You made sure you’d finish his make up soon, so you could finally proceed with your plan. With your brush softly sweeping against his cheek for the last time, you’d put your stuff aside, hitting the record button for the final time.  “So here’s the final product, as you can see, my husband is looking really pretty, right?” your eyes would avert from your phone to your boyfriend. “What do you think baby?” Not so cocky now huh? —a smirk would spread across your lips as you eyed his rosy face. A smile was threatening to crack out of him, but out of utter bewilderment, he’d gulp and stutter, “W-wait, did you just— husband? me?” “Oh, that? sorry baby, I meant to say boyfriend, my bad, let’s restart—” “No, no. Keep that.” He’d reach out for your hand, his soft, pinkish and glossed lips making contact with its back side. “Post it —but you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve bought the ring, give it twenty-four hours.”

seunghan — “i'm the no. 1 trendsetter.”

The excitement that rushed through him when you had gently pushed on his shoulder to ask him, “Hey babe, I want to try this couple’s trend I saw on TikTok.” cannot even be wholly expressed with words.  “What trend? Are we filming right now? Wait, do I look okay? Where do you want me babe?” —his questions fired at you like he was chasing the ticks of your wall clock.  You found this action of his really precious, causing a short chuckle to fall off your lips. “Calm down Han, just settle yourself there —right there against the headboard.” he’d promptly push his back against the headboard, eyes following your figure as you set up the camera against one of your bigger plushies. “Wait, which trend is this?” He was curious as to why you hadn't shown him a video of the trend you were talking about for reference, or why you didn’t seem to have an audio picked out and ready.  “Let’s take turns saying what we love about each other —but, we have to act like we don’t see each other, act like I'm not here.” you tilted your head at him, and he’d shyly cover his smile with his hand, palm faced towards you. “You go first.” You quickly hit the record button, backing away as soon as it started recording. He’d hesitate for a while, fishing for your assuring gaze before turning back to the camera.  “The things I love about my girlfriend Y/n? there’s a lot. Now that I'm being questioned on the spot, it’s quite hard to list everything. Honestly, I love Y/n’s everything, her smile, her eyes, her skin, her hair, the way she’d always remind me to never forget this and that —and if you’re gonna ask why, well, I just do. I really don’t know how to explain it with words only—” A kiss would interrupt his very passionate statement, you were both admittedly very hot in the face. “Oh-kay, my turn.” you moved yourself a bit so the camera could get a decent view of you as you spoke. You cleared your throat before you spoke, “The things I love about my husband can be—”

“Huh?”

“Huh? what?” You watched his eyes dilate as soon as those words left your mouth. The look on his face was quite… concerning.  “Seunghan?” “We need to start over, let me go again.” “Wait Han, why?” “Since we’re changing labels here, might as well just call you my wife too, right?”

sohee — “nara smith who? i only know y/n.”

Sohee was quietly settled on the couch, patiently waiting for you to get finished with the very important matter you had to deal with in the kitchen. You told him to just wait there, that by the end of it, you’ll give him something worth his while. He’d turn around, still seated on the couch, peaking at you moving around in the kitchen. He’d immediately catch the tripod you were setting up and asked, “Are you taking a video?” You’d glance behind you for a brief moment, humming a reply, “Mm-hmm~” “Oh, okay, good luck!” you’d chuckle to yourself hearing his cheery spur, such a lovely voice he had.  Though, for the following moments, you’d make sure your voice filled the confines of your place, and the only sound his ears would take in. You cleared your throat so that you would be able to project your voice.  “Today I feel extra happy, so I’ll be making my husband his favorite for dinner.” Your what now? —he’d perk up from the couch, and seriously contemplate on whether he should just get up and jump you in your kitchen, give you a million kisses and hug you till his arms weren’t able to lock you in anymore.  You continued, thinking he might’ve not heard, so you planned on saying it again, but then suddenly you’d feel some weight on your shoulder.  “I hope I’ll be the only one to hear that from you.” his hot breath fanned against your ear as he whispered, laying his chin on your shoulder.  “Hear what baby?”  “Husband —I wouldn’t marry you till, like, we’re ready, but I hope I’m the one. I love you.” 

anton — “i'm in my food critic era.”

He was quite surprised to see you playfully prancing at him with a bag full of foreign snacks you ordered online. When you’d propose to him to accompany you to try some, of course he’d oblige, who’d pass on some good food? “Where’d you get this from?” he asks as he looks through the plastic bag.  “Online, my mom took the box and a few snacks, but we have all of these left to try.” his fond eyes gleamed at the way your hands did speedy little claps. “Tony, can I film us trying it?” “You mean, like a food review?” you’d briskly nod at him, and suddenly he cups your face. “Okay love, let’s do it now.” You set up your phone, settling it against Anton’s water bottle. You take out all the snacks, laying them down neatly enough that it doesn’t look too disarrayed despite not being organized at all.  You hit record, and you’d wear a very dear tone with your voice, “I ordered snacks from several parts of the world —and today, with me is my husband, Anton.” you’d spare him a glance, but waa just frozen in his spot. “Say hi, Tony.” “Oh-uh, well, hi. I’m. Gonna —get married?” watching his anxious self, you couldn’t help but almost guffaw, but before it could burst out of you, you’d hug him.  “Tony, why’d you say that?” he’d look at you as if you commited a felony.  “You called me husband?” “Did I?”  He shook his head, very steadily and very slowly, a clear depiction of how disappointed he was. “I can’t believe you’d gaslight your husband.” It was painful to keep up with the act, but you’d playfully roll your eyes at him, talking to the camera once more, “Well, anyways, let’s try the first snack here…” Your silence was concerning at most, the sounds of the food’s packaging being ripped open pierced his ear as if it were the most eery of sounds.  “You really didn’t mean it?” you held up the act of perplexity as you laid your eyes at him.  “What’s ‘it’ Tony?” The light in his eyes would dim, and you would immediately take notice of it. A sense of guilt would wash over you at the sight of him, till you could no longer keep it up. “It was supposed to be a prank—” He’d cut your explanation short with a comical gasp, “I knew it.” “Of course you did.” —you lost, and so you’d reach for your phone to stop the recording.  “Hold on, we haven’t even tried any of the snacks.”  “We weren’t really meant to, I just used it as an excuse for the prank…”  “And? keep it rolling love." His soft urging was enough for you to set the phone back up again. “Oh, we’d have to restart the recording…” “That’s okay. Let’s do it again. Prank me again.” Call me your husband again. —you would never really hear his thoughts, but he hoped that his words were enough to tell you that he was a big fan of your ‘prank’, though to him, it would never be a prank, but perhaps something else.

something fluffy to combat my next angst fic :>

#riize #briize #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize shotaro #riize sungchan #riize eunseok #riize wonbin #riize seunghan #riize sohee #riize anton

[sleepingdeath-light]

yandere hcs ; poly welcome home ensemble

requested by ; cloud-kitties (18/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; barnaby b beagle, eddie dear, frank frankly, howdy pillar, julie joyful, poppy partridge, sally starlet, wally darling

outline ; “Chuu~ Would ya maybe do headcannons for the whole neighborhood in a sort of yandere polycule for the neighbor?

No infighting just a whole agreement of “neighbor is the most. We keep.” Snuggle party ftw maybe some conniving °v°

I love them all so dang much.”

note ; little bit unsure of this piece since it’s more focused on the ensemble as a whole rather than individual characters, so characterisation might be mildly shaky where it does appear

warning(s) ; yandere!ensemble, mostly fluff, possessiveness, obsessiveness

the neighbourhood had always been especially close, after all they only had each other to rely on so it made sense to at least try and all get along, but something shifted when you moved in — and they became that much more tight knit because of it

you were a fresh face around town: a new customer at the bugdega who always greeted howdy with a smile so bright it hurt his eyes just to look, a new set of waving hands that stopped eddie on his morning rounds as you sheepishly gave him a card to pass on (so apologetic that he simply couldn’t say no), a new muse for wally to paint out in his garden as you leaned dangerously out of your bedroom window to help guide sally on where to place her new (startlingly large) props, a new voice to laugh and groan and react to barnaby’s jokes (your enjoyment and amusement so addictively palpable that he found himself thinking about it as he drifted off to sleep), a new pair of eyes for julie to stroll and pose in front of to show off her new outfits and hairstyles (flustering and glowing under your earnest encouragement and biting her tongue to hold herself back from tackling you into a tight embrace), a new pair of hands to help frank catch that butterfly he’s been trying to get for days now (and succeeding effortlessly in your first try, earning his muted awe as you celebrated and handed over your prize to him), a new mouth for poppy to feed with her latest treats (and who never hesitated to praise her cooking until her feathers were all awry and her head was hidden in her wings, all while insisting you were only stating the truth)

you were everything and yet you presented yourself so humbly — a true enigma for the neighbours to discuss as their fondness for you grew more intense, more consuming, more concerning (though, of course, none of them could see it for what it was through the puppy-love-esque haze that had overtaken their rational minds)

it was a shared obsession, the subject of every whisper and remark and check-out chat whenever they saw each other — voices lilting with adoration but carrying an air of casualness that might just be unsettling if they weren’t so genuine about it all

they memorise your schedule off by heart and arrange amongst themselves who will be where so that you’re never left alone (that’s such a terrible thought, they never want you to feel neglected) — alternating throughout the week so that howdy and eddie also get their time with you outside of their work schedules

as a collective they’re all incredibly friendly towards you, always greeting you with kindness and offering help with any and everything you do even if you don’t ask for it — leaping at any opportunity to spend time with you or to gain your favour in one way or another

they also never try and force any sort of affection or relationship onto you, content just to have you with them and not feeling the urge to push anything further unless you express that interest (and after very thorough private discussions amongst themselves)

that being said if you wanted to enter a romantic relationship with the ensemble then they’d all be up for it — accepting before you could even complete your sentence (but good luck ever leaving that relationship)

you’re spoiled rotten by your neighbours — kept with good company, given first pickings of every meal and dessert poppy makes, sent countless unsigned letters complimenting everything about you in earnest, offered painting after painting of yourself and your favourite things, spoiled with laughter and entertainment, gifted the newest clothes, and offered discounts and freebies with everything you buy

(and your birthdays are even more extreme, practically turned into holidays and celebrated for well over a week as your neighbours make it the best they can)

but this overwhelming kindness and affection is met with an overwhelming, underlying possessiveness that bubbles up to the surface every time you try to leave the neighbourhood — they just love you so much that they can’t just let you go so easily

they make excuses, cut the phones, block the roads and feign illness after injury — anything they can to keep you at home without causing you any harm themselves (they love you too much to hurt you, you know), and if all else fails then home will step in and… well… nobody wants that to happen

it would be so very difficult for anyone but wally to see you then and that would be so terribly unfair, don’t you think?

so they try and make do as best they can, keeping you entertained and well fed and well spoiled with everything you could possibly need or want — doing everything in their power to keep you content enough that you don’t ever feel the need to leave them

they have everything you need, why would you ever look elsewhere? — with sally and barnaby by your side you’re kept well-entertained, with frank and julie you’re kept active and in good hands as you explore the nearby woodlands, between howdy and poppy you’re never left hungry or craving the things you love, and wally and eddie are more than happy to help you explore your creative side (and home is a wonderful host as well)

they will be whatever you need them to be, whatever you want them to be, clinging to every smile and laugh and look you give them and showering you with all they have to offer — because you really are the absolute most

and they won’t let you go

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #yandere hcs #yandere x reader #yandere welcome home #yandere welcome home x reader #poly x reader #poly hcs #poly welcome home x reader #poly welcome home #welcome home x reader #yandere welcome home ensemble x reader

[natalieironside]

"Secret Window, Secret Garden 2: The Revenge, by John Shooter" by Natalie Ironside

One morning Natalie H. Ironside awoke in her bed to discover she'd been transformed into a young Johnny Depp. "Dang," she said, shaking her head in consternation, "what a raw deal. This ain't what I need right now."

She'd only just begun to process this new development when there came a knock at the door. She opened it to discover an angry man who otherwise looked normal and unremarkable, holding a rolled-up typescript. He'd arrived in a car with Mississippi plates, which struck her as out of the ordinary because, as everyone knows, the state of Mississippi does not require front license plates. Being transformed into a young Johnny Depp overnight had not struck her as odd because, like a vagrant in a C.S. Lewis book, this was hardly her first rum do.

"You stole my story," the angry man said.

"Well, damn," Natalie replied, "that sucks if it's true. What makes you say that?"

They talked for a while, and it was clear the stranger meant well but had a fundamental misunderstanding of US copyright law. "I see what the problem is," Natalie said. "Come inside and we can have some like coffee or whatever and talk it out."

Disarmed, the stranger agreed. He handed her his typescript and said, "My manuscript--"

"Typescript," Natalie corrected. Then, contritely, she added, "Sorry. It just kinda bugs me when people refer to typescripts as manuscripts."

The stranger didn't know how to reply to that. "Just . . . just read it," he said.

After a cursory glance at the first page, she looked up in bemusement and said, "Well, I didn't write this at all. Stephen King did."

The man took back the typescript, muttering something about bringing the wrong paperwork and how he was gonna get in big trouble with the Weez for this one. Seeming at a loss for words without his intended prop, he said, "Listen, I, uh . . . I'm you. I'm like a manifestation of all the rage and resentment you keep bottled up."

"I, like, don't, though," she insisted. "I mean, I do, but not like that guy in the story did. Being open about the darker parts of our personalities is kind of a whole thing with me."

"Yeah, and that's why I'm here talking to you like this instead of going through all that rigamarole. What did you think of the story, anyways?"

"It's one of King's weaker works, if I'm being honest. It woulda made a great short story, but stretching it out into 5 hours just feels like a half-asseded sequel to The Dark Half. Plus DID and schizophrenia don't work anything like that--or, well, this--and that's always been a bit of a bent beam with the guy."

"Yeah," said the man. "Listen, can you just, like, write a story and put my name on it? I know you don't have to, but it would really mean a lot to me, and it'll get me out of your hair."

"Sure thing, man," she replied.

The end.

#ka like a wind

[dead-enby-detective]

I love the Dead Boy Detectives show so I decided to watch the Doom Patrol episode: Dead Patrol which includes their version of the DBD Agency because I was curious about the different portrayals.

(This is a long post, I’m sorry, I have a lot of thoughts 💭)

First- gotta say, it’s wild that Ruth Connell plays both versions of the Night Nurse (when I heard her voice in the Doom Patrol episode I was like !!!) when they are SO gosh darn different.

In DBD she still feels like a person. We, as the audience, know she’s in the wrong about the boys but we can also see her point of view. If the show continues I’m excited to see where they take her character.

In Doom Patrol… she’s just creepy AF! I mean she’s a horror movie monster whose face splits apart and turns people into zombies by throwing up on them like WTH? I’m good with not seeing her again, no matter how well Ruth plays her lol.

Anyways props to Ruth fr because dang, she’s got RANGE.

Speaking of the Night Nurse-

It’s interesting to see the different reactions the boys have in the Doom Patrol episode to her compared to in the show.

Firstly, in Doom Patrol they already know her versus in DBD we see them meet her for the first time.

In Doom Patrol they’re kind of chill about it, like this is an enemy they have to deal with now and again, nbd versus in DBD it’s a new threat they don’t know how to handle. It feels like there’s far more weight in DBD to their interaction, in my opinion.

But I think the understanding versus uncertainty of her also impacts their overall reactions to the threat of her.

Both Charles’ react to one) protect Edwin and two) get the Night Nurse to get the heck away from them.

While trying to get the Night Nurse away DP Charles hits her with a bat and DBD Charles with the lullaby machine and then DP Charles throws a grenade and DBD Charles kicks her into a giant fish’s mouth.

Now obviously: different actors, writers, universe, 8 episodes versus 1 but it’s interesting to note that the Doom Patrol boys are much less reactive to their own/each other’s violence.

DP Edwin doesn’t react much to DP Charles hitting the Night Nurse and then throwing an explosive at her, DBD Edwin however is devastated by DBD Charles’s intense reaction to the Night Nurse trying to take them away/separate them:

DP Edwin doesn’t really say anything about it just kind of tells her off and DBD Edwin tells Charles his reaction was extreme.

Then in the aftermath DP Charles just walks (runs) away from the situation, seemingly fine with the whole thing while DBD Charles breaks down after the whole affair

Like DBD Charles is wreck by the whole thing.

Again I’m fully aware that having eight episodes dedicated to these characters stories compared to about half of one dedicated to them allows for very different stories but I think it’s neat how different their reactions to violence, their violence are.

Throughout the DBD show the phrase “a good detective does what they must to solve the case” but really, they have instances where they could have used violence to solve or speed up their case work and they actively chose not to, because they truly don’t want to. Charles does, even before this, have moments of violence but it’s clear it’s something that hurts him and it’s not usually his first reaction. They tend to try to avoid being violent if they can.

Compared to the DP dead boys, it feels almost like a means to an end for them. It doesn’t feel like they of out of their way to be violent but also like they’re less likely to avoid it overall. And it doesn’t impact them the same way.

I just think it’s neat how vastly different two portrayals of the same characters can be especially with such core traits.

They’re the same characters, different fonts and it’s so fun to compare and contrast.

—————

I have more thoughts but this post is getting pretty long so I think I’ll make another post/posts about em later.

#dead boy detectives #doom patrol #dead boy detective agency #night nurse #ruth connell #charles rowland #edwin paine #edwin payne #larry trainor #meta #dead boy detectives meta #charles rowland meta #edwin payne meta #my post

[shares-a-vest]

@steddie-week Day Three: First Kiss

TW: hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and medical care.

Steve reaches Eddie's hospital room and smiles.

Not just because he can actually make it there today by himself. Not just because yeah, they'd survived and were gonna be okay. Eventually.

Eddie is sitting up, propped against a mountain of pillows, his hair sprawled across them like raven tendrils. He looks better than he did yesterday, even. Since Steve was last here, hustled away by his nurse, Dot and Robin before dinner time, Eddie has clearly been cleaned up a little.

Not that it matters to Steve, really.

It's just that a lot of dried blood is gone, only superficial marks and brushes visible, the worst of it contained under bandages. The clump of blood and gunk matted into the left side of his hair is gone too, finally washed out by someone.

He looks comfortable and a lot more like himself today.

Eddie smiles back and gives the faintest wiggle of his fingers.

Steve shuffles towards him, stepping carefully along in his hospital slippers and socks combination, trying not to wince as he goes due to the cuts on the soles of his feet.

The wheelchair he was given by the nurses assigned to them in the bowels of Hawkins General where they are tucked away from everyone else being treated after 'the earthquake', sits discarded just outside the door of Eddie's room. He's thankful today that he doesn't need it, finally free from that dang IV he was constantly getting tangled up in.

He can sit closer to Eddie now - which is all he wants.

"Hey, Steve," Eddie says as he reaches the chair. His voice is still strained, throaty and quiet.

Steve balls up his fist and extends his arm, "Look, no drip today."

"Lucky bastard," Eddie teases, a small laugh turning into a cough.

Steve braces himself at the sound for a moment, but Eddie waves away his concerns, gesturing for him to sit.

It's a struggle, his back is killing him, but he manages to drag the chair as close to the bed as possible. He props himself against the edge, leaning forward.

All Eddie can do is turn his head towards him.

"Henderson's mom forced him and Wayne outta here for a while," Eddie says.

Steve chews his bottom lip. He knows this. Dustin gave him a rundown of anything and everything, rushing into his room just after breakfast to announce his temporary departure like Steve was supposed to stop it. Selfishly, he is glad everyone is gone for a bit. It means he can just sit, be with Eddie and hold his hand, something that he reaches for the second he gets settled in his chair.

Mostly, he really just doesn't like everyone fussing around him. Plus, he hates the thought of Robin and Dustin (especially Dustin, the poor kid) sitting around in uncomfortable, hard and cold hospital chairs when they have the choice to leave and sleep in warm beds of their own.

Steve looks down at his hand intertwined in Eddie's. His nails are cleaner too, though he isn't sure who would have made them so. Maybe Robin. The second they'd arrived at the hospital, it was like a switch flipped in his best friend and all she could do was focus on dirty clothes and stains and dried blood like a mother chastising her kid for walking into the house with muddied boots. And there was still the obsessing over bats and rabies as if Eddie wasn't on the verge of dying in Steve's arms.

He grips Eddie's hand tighter at the thought and feels a squeeze back. Steve rubs his thumb over Eddie's, moving in soothing circular motions as something to focus on rather than their respective shallow breathing and the beeping of machines still surrounding the bed.

Just as he sets about a steady rhythm that calms him, Eddie begins lazily lifting his arm. He touches his hand to Steve's cheek, gazing at his now very obvious and scratchy stubble.

"You need a shave, Big Boy," he chuckles, leaving his hand lingering.

"So do you," he counters, enveloping his hand again and bringing it to his lips.

He barely kisses Eddie's scraped-up knuckles - more, he holds his hand to his mouth, the contact alerting him to just how dry his lips are. He'll have to remember to ask Robin to bring his chapstick, though he loathes asking her to go fetch something else from his house. He knows these past few days he has been a total pain, bordering on being a nightmare patient as he barely sleeps and insists on sitting with Eddie at every opportunity.

Eddie flexes his fingers, his forefinger digging into his cheek, or at least trying to at the angle Steve is clasping his hand.

"What?" he laughs and promptly clears his throat.

"When are you gonna kiss me for real, Stevie?"

Eddie smiles so wide it exposes a dimple on his right cheek and stretches the bandage taught on his left.

Steve leans against their tangled fingers and looks him over.

As soon as he was first allowed in the room (okay, he had forced his way in with his wheelchair and some frantic begging as Robin and Nancy unsuccessfully stopped him from vacating his own bed) he was by Eddie's side, holding his hand. When he finally woke up, Steve had been all teary, not caring about the display in front of Eddie's uncle who, at that point, he'd only filled in on everything via a hushed conversation over an unconscious body.

And ever since they have been like this, sitting as close as their separate medical needs allowed, holding hands and gently soothing each other. Talking quietly.

Comforting each other.

And yeah, some of that has involved some not-so-subtle flirting and knowing glances - alone in Eddie's room or not. Dustin sure wasn't being quiet about his gawking, to the point Robin joked that at least the twerp wouldn't be bothering them about their relationship from now on.

He huffs as he braces himself to move upright - he'll have to do the heavy lifting here. He squares up, actually taking Dot's advice to steady himself first so as not to strain his back or hurt his feet further. There was some instruction in there too about not exerting himself to regulate his breathing but right now his breathing is a tad laboured, his heartbeat rising as he leans in closer. He ungracefully lowers onto his elbows, hesitantly relinquishing his hold on Eddie's hand.

"Ow," he grumbles, pain shooting up the backs of his scraped-up arms.

Eddie manages to close the distance and grips his left bicep a little too hard so he has something to anchor himself sideways.

It's soft - featherlight, even.

Eddie's lips are as dry as his own, creating a sticking sensation as they part just as quick.

Eddie flops back onto his pillow with an uncomfortable groan while Steve collapses back in his armchair, legs giving way entirely. The chair scraps on the scuffed linoleum as he white-knuckles the armrests, momentarily fearful he'll tip backwards.

"That was nice," Eddie hums, closing his eyes.

Steve smiles.

It might not have been perfect, and more like a fleeting touch than any kiss he has ever had, but as Eddie laces their fingers back together, Steve knows there will be more to come.

lmao, I wrote this all out and then realised it was basically just a sequel to THIS. I really do only have three ideas in my pea-brain rotating like a rotisserie 😅

#steddieweek2023 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie first kiss #steddie ficlet #let's see if tumblr doesn't go all weird and not show my posts in the wider tags today grrr

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Bad Batch Chopping Block

(some spoilers, tread carefully)

Alright, the safety net is gone. Even though Pabu still stands, it will never be safe for Omega or the boys anymore. The Empire has truly closed them in from every direction. So, who's gonna make it out of this season? Just to get this out of the way, Tech is either dead or comes back. The Tech Debate is too big to tackle here.

Definitely dead:

Echo- I think he's 100% a goner. Aside from being a strong mentor figure to Omega, Echo is gonna be a martyr for his cause. He believes so strongly in his fight for clone justice and he will follow it to the grave. I can definitely see him going out in a blaze of glory while Rex watches hopelessly. Plus, Echo dying might be the reason for Rex to retire and turn to Joopa farm. Echo is the last true connection he has to his old life and the 501st. Echo also gave Omega a new weapon which doesn't bode well for him. A gift he gave her is something she can remember him by.

Most likely dead:

Hunter- I do have some hope for him. There is a chance that writers don't kill him off because they want to finish the show with all the boys together. But sadly, that is unlikely. Hunter is the mentor figure and the first real paternal figure to Omega. As the oldest of the Batch (minus Echo), he has a responsibility to watch over them. In season 3, we see Crosshair slowly learning to take over as Omega's parental figure. It's possible that Hunter will die, as many mentor figures have before him, and Cross will carry the torch. I can definitely see that happening. Hunter dies protecting Omega and Crosshair is left to pick up the pieces

Wrecker- sweet Wrecker is too dang lovable. Unlike the others, he doesn't fit as neatly into a trope category like Crosshair and Hunter. Therefore, he could honestly survive because of that. However, I definitely think he could go out in a blaze of glory as well, something akin to Hevy or Hardcase. Imagine Wrecker getting caught in an explosion as he stays behind to save his brothers and Omega? But at the same time, I don't want it to happen.

50/50 (but most likely fine):

Crosshair- I honestly think he might make it out this season mostly in one piece. The only trope he fits right now is redemption equals death and honestly, I think we're past that point. Crosshair already began his redemption arc. He saved Omega, reconciled with his brothers, reconciled with Howzer, admitted his wrongs, and genuinely wants to be a better person. He doesn't need to prove to his family that he loves them or has changed because we see that. His brothers see that. Even his new poster shows him looking at his helmet. He has found the light. It's possible this show ends with him leaving his old life to retire with Omega. He could still die protecting her, but I'm starting to think otherwise.

Crosshair has suffered so much since this show started. I made a list, but we could be here all day talking about it. I feel like it would be overkill (literally) to just kill him off after he's come so far. Also, the fact that he is getting the Dad Batch ™ treatment means that they could be propping him up to take over the role from Hunter. That or they're speed-running Crosshair's dad mode activation because he was MIA for two seasons. Honestly, I think Crosshair narrative wise is mostly safe because his redemption arc is playing out right now instead of later down the line. His arc right now is mostly about coming to terms with himself, his trauma, and his identity as a sharpshooter and soldier. I really think that this show will end with him hanging up the helmet and raising Omega.

Fine:

Omega- let's be honest, they're not gonna kill off our sweet bean. She was been our focal character since the beginning and I can't see the writers going this dark. She's safe!

Alternatively: the Batch all live plus or minus one of them. The final episode could be all of them charging in together for one final fight. They make it out (mostly) and retire with Omega. Boom, the end.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech

[genopaint]

Week 8 of Daily Dragons! I was INSANELY sick so the first 4 days had to be fused together lol. But I got through it!

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #49/#50/#51/#52 - Bub, Bob, Peb, and Pab

You like that? You like how I got around the missed days? Pretty smart, right? You can give me props for it I don't mind. Yeah I'm starting to feel better, but I'm still a little messed up lol

I'll try not to make this and also not to make recolors so frequent as individual dragons throughout the year. But hopefully having them each be unique art makes it an easier pill to swallow. Cut me some slack, y'all! I was dying the past few days

Daily Dragon #53 - Berserkrunch

These impressively angry and aggressive dragons seemingly love proving how tough they are to anything that crosses their path. While they may seem scrappy due to their short stature, they do have some considerable strength to back up that attitude

This is a remake of this little guy! While it's not that old of a dragon, having originally come from 2021, for some reason I just kept thinking about redesigning it. And, dang it, it's my challenge, why not?

Also, I included fully raged (red) and fully calmed (blue) variants :)

Daily Dragon #54 - Glidrogon

Fast and ruthless, these dragons can dive bomb preys at incredible speeds, then tear them up with their claws. Sometimes they've been seen hunting in packs to take down considerably larger prey than themselves!

If Berserkrunch can get a redesign and a new name, it's only fair its brother can too! This is a redesign of this green pterodactyl looking dragon I made the same day as Berserkrunch back in 2021 :)

Daily Dragon #55 - Howl Gravwyrm

A mysterious martial artist that few people have seen, let alone actually met. He appears wherever opponents of great power are, and some people claim to have been rescued by him from danger. But he never accepts thanks, he just wanders on.

Very rough week, things are gonna keep getting rougher soon I'm afraid, so I figured I'd go ahead and do another redesign of an old OC! This is a reboot of a random buff dragon design I did in roughly 2016 I believe? Decided to make him even edgier this time around

#dragon #dragons #anthro #scalie #character design #creature design #monster design #bubble bobble #fanart #my stuff #oc

[randomgentlefolk]

CPC CHAPTER 167

YO PROPS TO WITCH!!!

Hm, I wonder how Leelathae writes in her diary? I mean, does she write them in just dialogue, or narrative, or what? Either she is writes in dialogue, or she described the witch pretty well for Gwen to recognize who the witch is.

I mean, I didn't expect these ingredients, but sure. Does this imply there's a cemetery near The Pastel Kingdom? Cause Leelathae isn't allowed to be far from home, right? And I doubt she would ask someone to get dirt from cemetery for her...

I wonder what Leelathae plan was? Cause she didn't get the chance to execute it since her portrait was stolen by Leland. Or maybe she did execute it while in the Plaid Kingdom?

I agree with the witch so much. The painters fr did Leelathae dirty 💀

THE WITCH WASN'T LYING. SHE DOES LOOK COOL AF. LIKE. BRO?? HOW AM I NOT SUPPOSED TO FALL IN LOVE.

Huh. How does the ingredient turn into a paint-like liquid?? None of the ingredients are liquid based. Maybe the dirt?

This whole spell thing is sick man. It's so dang cool!! I wonder if anyone notices Leelathae sparkling?? I mean, one of the maids has got to notice right?

Also I've never knew there's tea inside snickerdoodles (chai is tea, right?). Well, it's not like I've ever tried snickerdoodles, but last time I read the recipe, I don't remember tea being in the recipe. But that was years ago so it might just be my memory.

Well, the mystery of the portrait is finally solved! And yet there's another mystery.. what writing did Leelathae put behind her portrait? Yes, the diary is one of them, but there are other things too. Like those brown and green papers. I'm guessing it's a message toward her kids?

Ohh, that's why!! Leelathae was glowy because of the spell!

BRUH SO WAS IT LIKE, A MISUNDERSTANDING THIS WHOLE TIME?? I did kinda predict it in my really old post, but I was joking T_T

Something's kinda bothering me about what Leelathae said in her 3rd wish. Why is she only talking about her daughters? What about Jamie? Or is there a hidden meaning that I am not getting here? If someone would enlighten me, that would be nice.

Aw. It's actually pretty sweet when you think about how they didn't even know how to speak to each other at first, but they still fell in love with each other <3

Oh. Oohhh....okay. This doesn't justify what Leland is doing right now, but it sure give a big reason for it. Yikes. Damn. That must've hurt.

Okay okay, let me just remember the past episodes to realize all the causes here.

Leland's parents died due to tragic carriage accident (didn't a carriage accident happen more than once? Tho I can't remember to who besides Leland's parents)

His best friend, Jack, didn't arrive to Leland's parents' funeral, which is the moment he needed him the most (not Jack's fault though, since he was literally stranded in an island)

Leland obviously has a little crush on Jack, which is why it hurts him when he found out Jack brought Leelathae to Pastel Kingdom (again, not Jack's fault). I think this is where he jealousy starts, the point where Leland thinks he has to be better at every love things than Jack.

He overheard Jack saying he didn't need him, which is probably the nail in the coffin for Leland. I mean that monologue Leland has? That's kinda internal mental breakdown right there. (I gotta say, this scenario is kindaaa similar to Gwen overhearing Frederick calls her ugly. I wouldn't say it's the exact same thing of course. It's just the overhearing that makes it similar)

So! Looking at these 4 reasons, it is highly likely that Leland has some problems (no shit sherlock). HEAR ME OUT. I don't know what it is yet. I was thinking of abandonment issues, but I have yet to read much about it, so i'm not sure yet.

HAH! Glad Leelathae decided to haunt his dreams tho!

OH SHIT OH SHIT. NAH LELAND NAHHHH. HE BETTER NOT. ....well at the time i'm writing this the next episode is already out so.. guess we're gonna find out...IN THE NEXT REVIEW!!

Yeah I haven't read the episode yet lol. I bet it's gonna be chaotic though.

That's it for now, until next time.

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts)

#cursed princess club #cpc #mono reviews

[kentocalls]

kamo choso | show me nsfw. spicy and wordy, minors do not interact.

"that's right doll, nothing to be nervous about. it's just us." choso sits like royalty on your beautifully plush reading chair. he's moved it to the foot of the bed. here's a ton of pillows propped behind you, your feet danging at the edge of the bed.

he's home now, no more touring. he may perform at an award show or two, has already convinced your dream designers to dress you like starlight. "everyone will be smitten."' he had said, the voice and ample kisses convincing you to stand beside him.

the fame, the glory, it's none of your thing. you love seeing him perform on stage, love working through song ideas and music with him. the way he plays guitar, the way he commands an audience. he's born to shine, born to adorned.

it's you who grounds him, keeps him sane. he would've lost himself with the industry that would happily gobble him up until he's an empty unsellable shell.

that's why this is important. he needs this, wants this reminder, needs to see how you take care of yourself when he's not around. when he's in beds far away and dreaming of you.

you're happy being his safe space, where he's more than a hot rockstar. where he's clumsy and endearingly curious about everything. where he joins in on your hobbies, you want a garden? he has build six gardening beds in the backyard. you want to save the bees? he's gotten part of his property dedicated to just their revival. you want to try new hair styles? what else has he grown his hair out for?

you're dressed in a scrapped merch idea, the executives said it was too obsecure of a song reference but choso knows it was your favorite from the latest album. it's such a pretty color dancing on your skin.

you pull your legs up, the shirt naturally doing nothing to hide your lower half. per choso's request, you're not wearing any underwear. you lean back into the pillows and exhale. "you look delicious."

that has you chuckling, "kamo choso, you can have a taste you know."

"after." you pout. he scoots the chair closer, you can almost feel his breath on your knees. "how do you start?"

"usually i think of us. the paris stop remember?"

he does. "go on doll, what about paris?"

"you...you were singing piercing even though you weren't supposed to." your hands snake under the tshirt, start to carress, squeezing, teasing as you move slowly. "kept looking right at me."

"it's about you." your blushing from your cheeks to your neck. your body starting to get warm.

"yeah but you didn't sing it like that on the album." he hums, hand reaches out, touches your legs. placing a kiss to the side of your knees, brings your hand down to your pretty pussy.

"someone's eager. i'm not even wet yet."

"oh, so you work yourself messy first?" his voice is deep, he's kissing down your leg, lips finding your belly, chin teasing near your clit.

your body is getting warmer, choso has to remind himself he wanted this. wanted to watch you bring yourself over the edge, wants to see pleasure cascade down your face. wants to immortalize the image in his head.

but you're too sweet, too soft, too willing to indulge him. "let me help you get messy." he's abandoning the chair for a little bit. pulls your shirt higher, lips attach to on nipple as a hand snacks around the other. you're breathing so softely, hand reaching to keep him close. the way he's sucking and grazing with his teeth is definately helping.

when he sits back his hair has fallen free, eyes lidded, he's breathing deep. "show me, what do you do next."

"choso..." you moan, a hand on your sore breast and the other lazyily moving up and down your wet folds, spreading it everywhere. you start to close your eyes.

bring the image of choso singing, the wanton evident in his eyes, what happened directly after the setlist was done. the sheer lust unleashed in the tiny tiny backstage bathroom.

your fingers have worked you up, needy, messy, eager. you need more, you want more. "th...this is where it gets....difficult."

"you're doing so, so well doll." and you are. you are so close but choso is within reach, his lovely fingers, his deep voice, his weight, you need him, you need him. "cho..choso it's not deep enough." you're whining on purpose. bucking your hips up, he's breathing so loud.

"please, please you're here. later, i'll show you later, promise."

fuck the way you melt when his hand reaches your hips. the way your back arches when he slides a finger alongside yours. the hunger in his kiss.

"you're almost there doll, come on. show me."

he pulls his finger out, you're protesting with tears and he bites down on your shoulder. rutting his own hips at the edge of the bed. trying to stall his own need.

you lift up, whatever past good deeds you have done to have this fine man look at you the way he is, talking so sweetly, asking you to be so shameless and show him, bless him with most alluring image. pushes you over, your shaking so hard, he has to keep you steady, towering over you, eyes glues to your face, a knee keeping your legs spread.

you're shaking and tears falling, body plunging itself into the strongest solo orgasm yet. well, almost solo.

"perfect." he's kissing you, pushing two fingers in. it should be too much, but he's here, he's close and you've spent enough nights alone picuting this. "doll, one more, can you give me one more?"

"with you." no guilt over the broken skin on his back with how deep your nails are digging in.

he's humming and musing and moaning your name into your neck. pulls his fingers out and steadies his arms on either side of your head. there's a tiny line of saliva connecting your lips and you reach up to bite at his lower lip. multitasking as your hands make quick work of his bottoms and brush his heavy cock against your wet mess.

"doll, i'm not gonna...please, put it inside." tomorrow, you'll make him beg. tomorrow you'll have more restrain and have him shaking with need.

tonight, you're keeping him close.

#kamo choso fic #choso fic #jjk x reader #rocker!au #rocker!choso #april writes #choso show me #sorry if he's ooc ?? IDK

[tideswept]

Hello!!! For the game, perhaps time travel? 👀

never have I ever

Technically no? I've had a few plots in mind, but nothing made it to the writing stage as the scope and potential of it has intimidated me. I feel like I need to have an intimate understanding of the characters and their relationship to successfully pull it off.

As well as a dang good reason for it. It feels like, I dunno, a forbidden indulgence to go into it without a Plan™.

Here's how I'd do it, using the Kingsman idea that probably got the closest to almost making it on paper.

A few months after the end of Kingsman, Eggsy is sent into the past. But far into the past--as in, when Chester was a young agent, perhaps even a trainee.

(I've given some consideration to Chester having held the title of Lancelot originally, which would have, I think, added some delicious flavoring to his rejection of a pleb coming along to possibly take up his title, but I really feel like they would have mentioned that little detail at some point if that were true. Same goes for him having been Galahad. Thus, I arbitrarily decided that it was Lamorak. Though Percival is a close second.)

So Eggsy finds himself weirded out by how much he and Chester have in common as he infiltrates Kingsman. We know from the original Kingsman script and a very clever accent slip-up during his death scene that Chester's background was likely more similar to Eggsy's than Chester ever wanted to admit.

Eggsy's goal may be to save Harry, but he doesn't want to fuck up time too badly, so he has no choice but to play along for a while, only, whoops, now he's being shoved X amount of years into the future (so from the 50s to the 60s) and Chester still remembers him, so he knows Something Is Up about Eggsy, but he cares about Eggsy (friendship? or more? who knows) so he doesn't turn him in. Cue another time jump to the 70s. Eggsy is still trying to evaluate what the best way to handle this is. Kill Chester? Tell him what's going to happen? Ask him to make sure a Harry Hart never gets chosen as a trainee?

But before he can decide, it's the 80s, and despite his best efforts to avoid them meeting, Harry is there. And Eggsy falls head over heels for this Harry, who is so different from the man he knows, but it's still Harry, after all.

Chester, now having left Lamorak behind and being made Arthur, notices and puts two and two together that this is the reason why Eggsy has been coming in and out of his life now for almost forty years. It was never about him, or Kingsman, or anything else that had occurred to him.

... but it still takes until the next time skip (hello 90s) for Eggsy to pull the trigger, so to speak. He has to make a decision now. What to change, and how, in a way that doesn't completely mess up the future? He might have trusted Chester a little the first couple of jumps, but now this is the Chester who was a callous fuck about Lee dying.

Meanwhile, Harry is hurt and furious and confused that Eggsy vanished and Arthur (nee whatever his original title was) seemed to know exactly what happened and only infuriatingly told him to be patient and wait.

(And that's another oof for Eggsy -- has he already changed things too much? Harry in the future will recognize him, won't he?)

Eggsy makes the difficult choice to kill Arthur, but Chester talks him down from that, and asks him the real story of what's been happening, pointing out that he's kept Eggsy's secret for fifty years; if that's not a sign that he can be trusted, well...

Eggsy decides to gamble it all on this Chester not being a complete bastard and tells him an edited version of the story (mostly withholding specific names and dates). Not just what happened in Kingsman, but also how fucking stupid Valentine's plan actually was, and the disasters that it caused even when it didn't fully go through. How close the world came to nuclear fallout.

Eggsy then is propped to 21st century, but he stays under the radar for this final visit to the past, not wanting to meddle further with time. At least as far as Kingsman is concerned.

(Dean, on the other hand, gets a very scary visit from a man that promises to slit his throat if he ever lays a finger on his wife and stepson again. )

When he's finally returned to the present, nothing has changed. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn't have trusted Chester. Or maybe it was all futile to begin with. As far as he can check, everything played out almost the same way, which means that maybe time just can't truly be changed.

Some time passes. And then he receives a message. From an account named Lamorak, asking to meet in a location that only Eggsy and Chester knew about. Eggsy shows up armed to the teeth, not sure what to expect, but sure as hell not expecting to find Chester and Harry alive.

Both of them had put together what they'd both been told (intentionally or unintentionally) by Eggsy and come up with a plan. They'd play out events to the best of their ability, aware that the Eggsy they'd one day meet was not the same that they'd already met--with some insurance. There was never a poison in Eggsy's drink, it was always a drug so that Arthur could pretend to be dead. Harry didn't get shot in the head, he grabbed Valentine's hand and got shot in the heart instead.

You know. Supposedly.

They've both been lying in wait, unsure of exactly when Eggsy went back into the past, and taking the chance that enough time (ba dum tish) has passed and it's safe to come out. They've come up with an excuse for Harry to still be alive and have the trail of paperwork to back it up, but Chester is done. He's not coming back. He's fine with being known as a traitor. It was about time that Kingsman had a good shake up, anyway.

Low-key bittersweet parting, with lots of hugs (Eggsy insists because it's a long-running joke that Chester finds hugs insufferably twee and ridiculous) and Chester disappearing, and Harry and Eggsy getting their happily ever after.

we do not accept Kingsman 2 in this household, thank you.

#asks #ragnarlothcat #kingsman #hartwin #woooo that was long #i'm so sorry i know it's probably not what you were expecting lmao

[saturdaynightspecialpresentation]

Watched the first episode of the Fallout TV show, and it was pretty dang good.

When they opened the door at the beginning, I was like, don't, I played Fallout 2, outdoors is full of Enclave psychos with miniguns.

I was close on that one.

It was also very weird, for a while, to see actual human beings in the Fallout world instead of bethesda's weird video game people.

Aren't people in the fallout universe supposed to share about four voices and stare directly at you while standing stock still?

Even though I haven't finished any of the newer games, I loved Fallout 1 and 2 as a kid and it might be the only franchise left that I still mark out for. After the prequels and the sequels the thought of more Star Wars just gives me a stomach ache, but I still get that silly thrill of, "Hey, I remember that from that video game I like!" When I see some prop stimpack or Nuka Cola machine or something.

I didn't quite understand how the vaults work in the show. It looks like 31, 32 and 33 are all connected to each other through underground tunnels, and they just never go to the surface? But at the same time they seem to know what raiders are and don't seem *that* shocked about outsiders breaking in?

I wonder what people who haven't played Fallout would think of the show. I think you kind of get the basic gist but there's not a lot of exposition compared to the games.

Anyway, I'm pretty hyped to watch the rest, hopefully they don't fumble the ball.

#fallout

[ragingstillness]

Finally getting around to watching CM:E

Thoughts thus far:

Rossi is sad and I remain pissed that they killed Krystal for no reason

Grey!Em is still my favorite thing

Happy to hear some swearing, the original show needed more of it

Let Rossi say fuck 2k24

“Remote Garcias” “we’re not gonna learn their names” lol Luke stays savage

“Anglophile baking club” oh come on Garcia. We all saw how shockingly queer everyone at that party is. It’s a kiki, plain and simple

Weren’t Luke and Garcia going to go on a date? Oh it’s been three years

“Take your carbs and exit sir” I love Garcia so much

“Hoo-ha” lol, burn Goop to the ground

“Korean drama” it’s a BTS anti unsub

Garcia straight up flapping I love her so much

Damn the writers for this Krystal flashback

Emily is gonna eat this Deputy Director alive

Oh thank fuck at least the rest of Dave’s family is alive

The Galvez cheek kiss *eeeee*

That little head kiss, Rossi’s such a dad/grandad

Damn Sicarius how do you have the time to dig all these holes?

Hahahahahaha I picked up on Tara and Rebecca at the same time as Emily

Waha Tara being openly queer!!!

Paget is like a proud mama that someone in the BAU finally gets to be queer

Dang this cashier girl is like literally saying exactly what I do at work

“My floof” I relate to this girl so hard

“Jagoff!” “Fuckhead!” Get his ass Rossi

Damn this therapy talk is so accurate go Garcia

Garcia and Rossi’s friendship is my Roman Empire

Man I can’t believe Sicarius actually thought that he could control obsessional killers. Dude, they aren’t going to listen to you

Sicarius you anti-retail asshole. I will dream of smashing you in the head with an axe from the hardware store where I work

Emily and Dave walking together both with grey hair look so cool now

“Is everyone but me getting laid?” “I’m not” lol ngl I appreciate the increased sexual humor

That’s my girl Garcia! I hate what it’s gonna do to your mental health to be back but I’m happy to see you

Dude if you’re gonna be a criminal psychopath with these amazing computer skills, how are you not at least making money off of it? Like, there is zero reason for you to be poor. Normally I wouldn’t say that about anyone but dude, are you seriously providing these kill kits for free?

Wait a sec he actually /took/ the dog? He didn’t just kill it? Dickhead!

“This fucking guy” yeah Rossi, read my mind about most unsubs on this show

Rebecca and Tara’s height difference is kind of killing me in this elevator scene they’re so cute

Garcia are you wearing Rocky Horror earrings? Love that

Haha fine furry friends returns

Dang y’all is Rossi the only one allowed to say fuck? It makes him sound like a teenager that just learned all the swear words. Let Garcia say fuck 2k24

I can’t believe that it’s an actual plot line that COVID prevented serial killers from killing so they had to change it up and go online. I’m sure the writers thought it sounded cool but it just sounds silly. What, did Sicarius’ first kill kits also include PPE?

Also why are these guys so willing to kill themselves for Sicarius? They seem like devoted to the cause and frankly, so many of these guys are narcissists and we’ve just seen one defy Sicarius, why are they listening to him? Seriously? No matter what he has on them, why would they consider it more important to follow his orders than their compulsions?

“You two-faced little jerk” yeah I hope he heard that

Soon we’re gonna be seeing Emily’s daydreams about killing people, not just Sicarius’.

Seriously, the idea of Sicarius having money problems is so dumb to me. He’s been shown to have immense resources and technological capability as well as ample time to use them. There is no reason why he should be financially unstable. I get that stuff like private school is expensive but dude, DUDE, you’re running a network of serial killers! It’s not THAT expensive! I feel like this whole plot point is set up to humanize him to a degree and it isn’t working well.

God whatever props guy worked on these posts for the fake forum Sicarius is using had fun. There’s a user named George_Jungle_fkr whose post consists of “I have a waifu, too!!! She lives in the jungle. I fuck in the jungle. I kill in the jungle.” With a profile picture of George of the Jungle. No shit. Pause on that screen, it’s wild. User GetHungry1893 with a post about not judging people and a profile pic of a man with bloody hands sucking on a bone. User NotSoFast with a drag racing car profile pic and with a post titled “I’m getting more guns!” That then goes on to use the phrase “waifu” and *wink wink*. User Tiredoftheblood101 with a bloodspot clipart profile pic and use of the term “OP”, asking about how to kill his MOM (capitalization his). Also in the background a user named Anonymous1232 with the anonymous logo as their profile pic.

Wait Sicarius actually has a real job? He wasn’t just bullshitting about it so he could travel all over the country? What, is running this serial killer network like a side hustle for him? Wait wait wait and he’s going on business trips that the company is actually sending him on? Like he’s following their directives? And driving a company car? This is insane. If they’re gonna characterize Sicarius the way they have been, none of this makes sense. Side note: the guy playing Sicarius is actually a good actor and after some of the previous disappointments (Scratch and the Chameleon) it’s nice to see.

This DEI discussion between Sicarius’ daughter and the redneck neighbor was not something I expected to see in Criminal Minds.

“You fucking beta cuck” yeah pretty much what I’d expect from a guy like this. But also, hysterical to hear incel language being used in real life. Damn man, you just called his daughter a bitch? He’s gonna flay you alive! I wouldn’t provoke anyone like that, even without knowing they’re the head of a serial killer network. Anyone can snap you dumbass.

“Somebody should do something about that guy.” Oh of course she says this to the serial killer. Good lord. “I’m glad you’re not that somebody.” Oh honey yes he is lol. Or he’ll send someone from the network to do it.

Ha I just realized that I carried a case exactly like the kill kit cases when I worked for the Red Cross. Contained equally suspicious things (needles, gauze, etc), if you didn’t know what company I was working for lol.

“Those who bankrolled you” then why is he having money problems god this is so dumb! “I’m not putting a gun to my head” yeah I predicted this would happen.

More hysterical users on Sicarius’ platform: User NotSoFast at it again “I miss my family. Bad aim” User Ript4u, with a muscular torso pic talking about the fruitlessness of love, calling people lemmings, “simps,” “bitchboy,” “I will dominate,” and the delightful paragraph “These bitches think they’re got it all figured out. Walking on a cloud of happy thoughts and unicorn farts.”

Haha Garcia said fan fiction! We made it to the mainstream lol.

“Honey let it go” woman he called your daughter a bitch! I’d punch him for that!

Damn Tara you’re gonna get your gf fired

“Typical bureaucratic bullshit” yes YES the old man is out! Rossi ur a king

Is Sicarius really there in person! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Oh wow he is what a dumbass! And so close to the bomb zone too! Did you want to get blown up too?!

Yeah bringing in domestic terror was a mistake.

“Excellent. I never wanted it in the first place” also kind of misogynistic to turn to Rossi after Emily rejected you.

“Wank-weasel” Garcia ur my spirit animal

“You’re a hedge fund manager with a badge. You have never done anything” get his ass Emily! I guess after Barnes the BAU has completely lost their patience for bureaucratic dickheads

“I just wanted you to hold my hand” they are soft gfs and I love them

About time one of the unsubs turned on Sicarius

Screw the propaganda that you can just make dogs eat people when they’ve been totally docile and relaxed their whole lives

Hey Sicarius, you remembering how annoying it is to do your own cleanup now?

Who the fuck is this guy Elias is hallucinating?

Genuinely curious how he finds time to make these custom foam inserts for the briefcases

Ok why is it taking so long to identify the victims found from Sicarius? This is set in 2022, DNA is fast and common.

Can’t believe this Tyler guy looked into Garcia enough to send her the encrypted locations but not enough to figure out she literally worked for the FBI. His anger over her handing over the info makes zero sense.

I know a lot of ppl hate Will for getting in the way of Jemily but he’s a very good husband. Patient, intelligent, cute. I like him.

“I believe you, but will Mom?” This new sibling energy between Rossi and Emily is everything. Also that burgundy blazer set is amazing on her.

I think Tyler has a little crush on Garcia. He just wants a woman who will kick his ass.

“Because of you I feel safe in our home” so cute literally so romantic I love them when they’re sweet

Only tangentially related but I’d love to see an episode where a serial killer breaks into another serial killer’s house. Like would it go “whoops my bad” or “you asshole you jacked my plan!” or would they just kill each other

Garcia’s little rant is hilarious

“I’m not a problem. I’m a delight. I’m a little dramatic but wonderful” yes you are Garcia

I almost believe the deputy director truly didn’t want to be overseeing this case. My guess, without watching the episode, is that he wants to prove he has some field experience so Emily can’t use it against him anymore. Also he might have a small crush on her and be a little afraid of Rossi. This season is full of men who like dominant women and I support that. I don’t support any sort of relationship between this man and Emily but I support the concept

“Bullshit. She broke your heart.” Welcome to working with profilers sir.

Also finally figured out what Emily’s scathing inditement of the deputy director reminded me of: it’s Hotch’s profiling of his team to defend them against Strauss

Emily’s smile when she finally got one over the deputy director, so pretty

Garcia and her ‘puter like she literally did the cat meme

Ok the orange crocs are a sin I would throw a folder at him too

Not surprised Will doesn’t have cancer but pissed they even teased us with it.

Haha Garcia is gonna make that dude keep the cat lol

Oh hey Sicarius. Nice to see you. Gonna kill a senator now?

lol Sicarius is like yeah I’m not sticking around for this freaky Oedipal shit. You can bankroll me, but I’m not into voyeurism on this

I know we’re supposed to be worried but 1) using a streaming site undercuts the tension of thinking a character will die and 2) that was the sexiest wheels up ever

Hahaha wow they didn’t even try to give us a realistic justification for Sicarius taking off his shirt

#cm #cme #cm:e #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution