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alsktudy · 4 months

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— svt at your christmas party

paring. ot13 x reader genre. humour wc. 0.7k warning. none

– seungcheol

gets scarily competitive at some of the games prepared. scares kkuma since he keeps yelling at one of the 12 to sit back down, although he’s standing up as well - how ironic. he’s the one who has to kick everyone out of your own home even though you insisted it was okay for them to stay.

– jeonghan

whispers some mean ass stuff to chan for him to submit answer for quiplash which literally turns svt into a frenzy - seungkwan yelling at soonyoung, chan trying to explain that it was all jeonghan’s fault and jihoon laughing his ass off. do not expect peace if jeonghan is involved.

– joshua

came early to help you set up your apartment/house for the party. brought all the decorations and even offered to clean your house while you were cooking (how sweet!!). he also brought his acoustic guitar which was played by either him or jihoon for the entire night.

– jun

the answers he submitted in quiplash literally make no sense whatsoever but svt does not care. thats what makes things funnier. they are rolling on the floor, hanging off the lights, climbing up the walls and smacking each other because jun’s funny. to svt, jun is a comedian and they need the world to know that.

– soonyoung

choreographed a bss version of the mean girls jingle bell rock dance with seokmin and seungkwan on the SAME DAY as the party. really wanted to wear matching articles of clothing with jihoon but he decided against it since it wouldn’t match the vibe of the choreo (definitely not because jihoon said no).

– wonwoo

the one who suggested playing the jackbox games after watching a stream about it. he's glad he bought it because its an absolute hit. when he sees everyone rolling on the floor laughing, pride begins to fill him. he feels happy and super proud that the idea he suggested was able to make his friends happy.

– jihoon

when i say no one expected him to ACTUALLY come, i mean, no one did. he waltzes into your party 5 minutes late, making everyone drop their jaws in shock saying, “jihoon? you actually came?” seungkwan later on claims to everyone he knew that jihoon was gonna come since he wouldnt miss out on something like this, making jihoon turn red on the spot.

– minghao

HAS THE MOST OUT OF POCKET ANSWERS FOR QUIPLASH . HE LITERALLY COULD NOT CARE ABOUT ANYONE AND I MEAN ANYONES REPUTATION. “good stage name for a chimpanzee stripper?” (a real question i've gotten once) hao’s answer? LEE SEOKMIN. he also beats everyones ass in drawful although mingyu came a close second.

– mingyu

most definitely helped you cook. arrived hours before the party, or possibly even came the day before and stayed over to help you prep for the amount of food that was going to be digested at your party. sulks at coming 2nd to minghao at drawful.

– seokmin

suggested the mean girls jingle bell rock dance to soonyoung. he also got forced to wear a santa suit to the party, although, he didn't really mind. he also agrees with the stage name for a chimpanzee stripper, “lee seokmin would be a good stage name.” he says nodding his head in approval while the rest of the boys are literally dying in the background.

– seungkwan

he's the self appointed host of the night, not that you're complaining, i mean, no one else was gonna do it if he didn't. helps make the night run (somewhat) smoothly although took a break from mcing to perform jingle bell rock w bss. (he also suggested the idea to soonyoung)

– vernon

watches bss in absolute awe as they preformed jingle bell rock - couldn’t comprehend how they were able to dance with straight face since he certainly couldn’t. also really enjoyed the jackbox games, although someone made a jab at his selcas which he shrugged off with an approving nod.

– chan

like vernon he also watches bss in awe as they preformed jingle bell rock. though unlike vernon he wants to be the 4th member. boo seoksoonchan? it has a ring to it! (at least that's what he tells himself). the one gets picked on for the entire night, since the other 11 knew mingyu helped with the food.

— extra!

unwanted proof abt the chimpanzee stripper question LMAAOOO

thank you for reading until the end!!

a/n. first time doing an ot13 type of post so pls tell me if you enjoyed this type of stuff from me :)) hope you enjoyed and merry christmas!!

note. i refer to quiplash quite often in this, if you don’t know what it is, it’s a very common party game which is multiplayer! perfect for svt. its where where you have answer a prompt, and you can submit ANY ANSWER which leads to alot of laughs. thought i'd explain it just incase. sorry for making this a bit inclusive but i feel like svt wld play this and really enjoy it :)

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tags:

@aaniag @dkswife @kokoiinuts @nishloves @joshuashna @sofix-hc7 @mekuiikore @onlyyjeonghan

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showtoonzfan · 10 months

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I will admit, sometimes I love looking at Viv’s liked tweets because they’re so ironic and hilarious.

This tweet is a jab at fandoms being sexist, favoring the male characters more but always shitting on the female characters simply because they feel negative emotions or god forbid they’re flawed themselves. The tweet itself speaks facts as I’ve seen MANY fandoms act like this, (especially if the male characters aren’t saints either but end up getting rooted for while the female characters don’t) but for Vivzie to like it despite the fact that she does exactly this is funny, cause in my opinion this tweet can resonate with writers too.

In Vivzie’s case the female characters that Blitz and Stolas have wronged are either portrayed as bitches or obstacles, all because of favoritism towards the males. Stella, Verosika, and even Barbie are supposed to come off as bitchy for breaking the males Uwu hearts, and Octavia is always upset with her father who’s supposed to be this imperfect little angel. Even if the show establishes that these characters were hurt by Blitz and Stolas, the show at the end of the day wants you to take their side and feel more bad for THEM rather than the people they actually wronged, and because the writing on this show is sexist as hell and so is the fandom, everyone roots for the problematic male characters but demonizes the female ones. Viv babies Blitz and Stolas cause they’re her favorite uwu soft bois but certainly not the female characters, nor cares to expand on them WITHOUT surrounding it on Blitz and Stolas’s trauma. She IS bad at writing women. It’s just very ironic lol.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #anti vivziepop #Octavia #stella goetia #Stolas #helluva boss

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kscheibles · 8 months

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e la vita ch. 1

content warnings: f! reader, drug mentions, drinking, emetophobia, bisexuality (homophobes and biphobes begone I will block u so fast)

word count: 3.8k

I didn’t want to be in Italy this summer.

That makes me sound ungrateful or something, but it’s the truth. Three months ago, I had planned to stay in Brooklyn with Claire all summer long. Hosting dinner parties, eating greasy breakfast sandwiches, dancing to old $1 records in our cramped apartment, picnicking in Prospect Park, and being totally, delusionally in love.

That was before things went south, she stopped trying and left me with more rent than I could possibly pay in the city. When Christina had first mentioned that a group of her friends was headed to Italy for the summer, I’d dismissed the possibility of going with them. Not only did I dread cohabitating with her wealthy, influencer friends who seemed to deal only in clout, I thought I’d be otherwise engaged. Weeks later, I’d gone back to her groveling, asking if I could sleep on the pull-out couch in Nina’s family villa for the summer. Luckily, the sofa was still available.

Now I sit at a wrought iron table – lease broken and all of my belongings sold to wealthy Manhattanites – in the warm yellow light of the Lombard sunset. Around me are chatty, outgoing girls, each more beautiful than the last. They gab about clubs and brands and boys. In the sea of Botox and iPhones, I cling to Christina like a life buoy. I push my tortellini around my plate to make it look like I have an interest in food, but I really don’t. I’m jet-lagged and uncomfortable. And even if that wasn’t the case, I’ve barely eaten since the breakup, relying on oat lattes and dirty water dogs to keep me alive.

“Try the pasta,” Christina jabs, “trust me, you’ll have a lot more fun this summer if you lean in.” I break the shell open with my fork revealing succulent ricotta curds and bright green spinach. The filing swims in a sauce of brown butter and fragrant tarragon but doesn’t affect me as it should. Nothing does anymore. The group’s conversation interrupts my train of thought.

“They’ve come every summer since the nineties, same as us,” says Nina, smirking at the girl to her left. “Hottest little accents you’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Who is she talking about?” I whisper to Christina.

“The boys in the other house,” she says, “the one you see on your way up here.” Nina’s family’s home is at a higher altitude than the rest of the city, necessitating a laborious hike to the bottom to actually do anything while in town. I’m sure that they’d been sold on the privacy of the location, but its impracticality left me wanting. The only other villa nearby sat at the base of the lush green hills before the road disappeared into winding dirt.

Another girl chimes in, “I saw them last year at a dinner in the city. They’re cute, too,” she coos.

“I kissed George the summer I turned fifteen,” brags Nina and the whole table breaks into oohs and aahs. I usually have a shut-up-unless-spoken-to policy at group dinners, but I know Christitna is right. If I don’t lean in then the credit card debt I’d amassed to buy my plane ticket and the back problems I'm sure to contract from sleeping on a pull-out couch for a whole summer will have been for naught. Think of it as an acting exercise, I tell myself, a performance of the girl who is totally not hung up on her ex and excited for a fun summer with her friends.

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, “who are these guys?”

“They’re in a band,” says Nina.

“Like a real one?” I ask. Years of living in New York have taught me that all bands are not, in fact, real ones. Nina laughs.

“You’re funny,” she muses, “yes, a real one. They’re like famous. We’ll go over eventually, they throw the best parties you can find around here. Get real drugs, too. Not just liters upon liters of Aperol, not that I mind that either.”

With my question sufficiently answered, I return quietly to my pasta, cutting each shell into impossibly smaller pieces until it’s rabbit food that will glide down my throat and do the hard job of nourishing me without any work on my part.

–

After dinner, I tuck into the pull-out couch in the villa’s spacious living room. The lack of A/C and the balmy summer air make it impossible to enjoy the luxurious wool blankets Nina’s family no doubt splurged on. I allow myself to eavesdrop on the elated sounds coming from upstairs: women confiding in each other, commiserating about their troubles, and shrieking excitedly at each other's successes.

I first try to doze off at 10:15, hoping that an early night will be exactly what I need and I’ll wake up refreshed and on Italian time. After an hour of staring at the popcorn ceilings and trying to suppress my crippling fear of missing out, I’ve tired my mind out enough to begin slipping toward sleep. I have fewer and fewer thoughts until I’m jolted by a hip-hop bassline. It resonates through the trundle bed and rebounds off my ribs, cozying itself into my heart. As I begin to come to, I recognize the chords of a house track that used to play at the girl bar Claire and I frequented in Green Point. The melody is warm and familiar and undeniably annoying. How loud must the music be for it to affect me so acutely even as I’m a few kilometers away from them?

I decide I’m pissed – and yes I decided. I’m freshly single, broke, jet-lagged, and fucking pissed at those entitled rich assholes. I slide my sandals on and head out down the hill in my sleep clothes.

I step outside onto the winding dirt road that leads the way to the boys’ home. The night is dark, lit by stars much brighter than I’m used to seeing in Brooklyn. I tilt my head back to look at them, trying to identify the big dipper. After a few seconds, I’m dizzy. I shake myself and trudge ahead, almost lulled into submission by the constant chirping of cicadas and the sweet fragrance of orange blossom that wafts off the bushes.

With each step I take towards the boys’ villa (what were their names again? Nina said one was called George), the music, electronic and fast-paced, becomes louder.

When I first knock on the faded wood door, I’m quite sure no one has heard me. I stand outside for a few minutes, contemplating whether I should knock again or cut my losses and return up the hill. I decide I may as well disrupt their party as some kind of karmic retribution for keeping me awake even as I’m exhausted from a transatlantic flight. I raise my fist and rap harshly at the door. A moment later, it flies open, revealing a curly-haired boy. Well, not boy, I decide as I inspect his features – lines decorate his forehead, and gray peeks out at me from within a ringlet that hangs over his eyes. He gives me a once over and can immediately tell I’m not here for the party.

“Can I help you?” he asks, annoyed. His accent lilts and falls over the words. All of a sudden, I feel insecure in my braless and plaid pajama-clad state. He’s beautiful – and exasperated by me. I double down on my own annoyance.

“Would you mind turning the music down?” I ask, still cordial, “I’m staying at the house up the way and I can’t get to sleep.”

The guy in front of me purses his lips and considers me for a moment. I feel itchy and uncomfortable. He’s looking at me like he can see through my clothes, to my soft hips and painted toes and peaked nipples.

“Let me show you around, gorgeous,” he smiles, “then maybe you won’t mind so much.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me into the party. A warmth covers me as I cross the threshold into the villa. The inside of the home smells like college: cheap weed, sweet sticky mixers, and sweat. My sandals stick slightly to the floor, reminding me that I really shouldn’t be here right now. Like the alcohol that’s been spilled on the ground is some great cosmic interference to convince me to go home and get the rest I ought to.

Suddenly, a big hand falls on the shoulder of the boy who’s pulling me by my limbs.

“Matty!” says the man. I can make out enough to see that he’s tall and devastatingly handsome.

“George!” the boy – Matty, I remind myself – drops my hand and fully embraces the bigger guy. “Was just showing…” he nods at me to introduce myself.

“Y/n.”

“Around,” Matty finishes. George gives me a once over.

“Did she just roll out of bed? Or get released from prison?”

“Y/n came to ask us to keep the noise down,” Matty declares with fake sincerity, “Not a partier, are ya love?”

“Under the right circumstances, I can be,” I retort. Matty and George’s eyebrows raise in amusement, faces breaking out in smiles. That sounded much more cunning in my head. Now I feel like a toy they’re playing with, winding me up to see what noises I make. It feels infantilizing. I’m uncomfortable, crawling in my skin; pride battered and desperate to go home as soon as it doesn’t look like I’m running away from a fight of my own picking. “I’d better be going actually,” I assert.

Matty puckers his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll show you out, princess.” It’s a sweet nickname but it tastes bitter out of his mouth. He seems to twist everything good and make it unbearable. I resent him for it. I trudge in front of Matty towards the door with steadfast focus. As I cross the threshold, I turn to meet his gaze.

“Thanks for nothing,” I say calmly. Matty breaks into a devilishly smug grin. His eyebrows tilt a little and his lips reveal a few crooked teeth at the bottom of his mouth.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” he says. I scoff and turn on my heels, leaving Matty in the dust.

–

The scent of freshly chopped garlic fills the kitchen as I stand in an assembly line of young women with cutting boards and chefs knives, each diligently chopping an ingredient for the bruschetta.

In front of me is a bunch of basil, perfectly fresh and green. I gently remove the leaves from the stem and create a pile in the middle of my board. It reminds me of when I would be tasked with raking the leaves as a kid. Too distracted by my childish whims, I would create more work for myself by piling the leaves on top of each other and taking a grandiose dive into them before scooping them up into a trash bag and discarding them. Each leaf was like a piece of confetti, a celebration of the season and of youth. Now I do these things to prove to myself that I’m young and that I can still conjure up that imaginative, playful nature if I try hard enough.

As I rock my knife back and forth over the soft leaves, Christina asks me where I was the night before.

“I came out around eleven to invite you upstairs, but I couldn’t find you,” she says.

Embarrassed, I train my eyes to the task at hand. This is not the group to look like a tattle-tale in front of. Actually, there’s very few groups in which that would fly. My penchant for playing God and divvying out karmic consequences to everyone whose path I cross is a part of my nature I’m not particularly fond of. I’m not keen to share it, especially around people who are still making up their minds about me. Despite my steadfast beliefs and borderline-outlandish behaviors, I maintain a fervent desire to be liked. It’s pathetic.

“I stepped out for some air,” I murmur.

“Really?” she nudges, “Because I didn’t see you on the porch.”

I turn my basil bunch 90 degrees in a flourish, beginning to chop it lengthwise.

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because of the music,” I spit.

“And…” Christina has always been too good at getting me to reveal my true feelings. She goads me torturously until it’s easier to say what I’m thinking than to conceal it.

“And I went to ask them to turn the music down,” I finish, “There, are you happy?”

“Very,” she smiles.

I pick up the chopped basil, letting the pieces float through my fingers and deciding I need to chop them smaller, still. I whack at the pile haphazardly, ruining the lovely squares I meticulously crafted earlier.

“They didn’t turn it down, if you were wondering,” I pant, “Pricks.” Christina chuckles to herself.

“No one ever does.”

–

The music of the club is omnipresent as I enter hand in hand with Christina. On my feet are heels too high to be comfortable, but the perfect lift to accentuate my calves. As soon as I cross the threshold, I drag Christina to the bartender, ordering two negronis. We idle by the bar for a moment and I take in my surroundings, savoring the bitter aftertaste of my drink and the waltz of the lights that flicker and cover the dancefloor with reverie. I listen to the synths and flourishes of the melody that envelop my senses. I hadn’t expected to like the music, but the DJ is spinning disco and it just feels right: the cold Italian aperitif, the funky basslines, and the tranquil nighttime air. I almost wish I’d left my phone at home. Nights like these aren’t compatible with phones anyway. The atmosphere feels like a relic of a bygone era, full of free love and intoxication.

Nina and a friend of hers find Christina and me at the bar and run up to us with inebriated bravado. “You guys made it!” she squeals. Little does she know we were pre-gaming at the villa in anticipation of this exact moment. I couldn’t handle Nina while sober tonight, that much I was absolutely sure of. It also didn’t help that I was alone – for the first time in several years – in a romantic foreign country without the girl whom I still loved. As unhealthy as it was, alcohol made that reality hurt a bit less. Nina grabs my hands and leads Christina and me away from the bar.

“I need to introduce you to the DJs!” Nina exclaims. I glance at Christina to communicate that no, I’m not particularly enthused at the prospect of meeting some Eurotrash guy whose head is shaved and whose torso is covered in Gucci logos. She returns the glance, silently begging me to behave. I relent.

Nina leads us around the side of the floor to some kind of dark stairwell. Rationally, I should be scared of being kidnapped but my drunken stupor inspires more carelessness than I would usually indulge in. I watch the sway of Christina’s hips and follow her like a lost puppy. Finally, we reach the top and the DJ deck is revealed. It’s shadowy and hazy. To the left is a corner booth with a straight couple making out in a way that really ought to be illegal in public. Past the lookout, laser lights flicker and sweep across the dancefloor, catching on the artificial fog and filling the air with psychedelic color. My eyes fall on the backs of two figures at the DJ booth, smoke rising above their heads. I can make out that one has headphones on and is faffing with the turntable while the other has their hands in the air and the small, flickering glow of a lit cigarette dancing around their figure. I’m dragged towards them by Nina who throws an arm around each of their necks in greeting. As soon as the one with the cig turns around, I catch his eyes.

It’s Matty. Selfish, arrogant Matty. I nod my head and flatten my mouth in a kind of recognition. The room is spinning from the alcohol and my skin is buzzing with discomfort. The bass of the music resonates in my ribs, teaching my heart how to beat. My mouth tastes salty and my knees feel weak.

I’m running to the corner where I can see a bin. Tears prick at my eyes and my hair sticks to my sweaty forehead as I swiftly empty the contents of my stomach into the small trash can. I kneel on the rough carpet and brace myself on either side of the bin with my hands. Between heaves, I lift my head to shake my hair off the back of my neck. The cool air feels grounding, but I’m soon back with my head in the can. I feel a hand on the back of my head, wrangling my frizzy hair off of my shoulders. I gasp, looking back for the sisterly comfort of Christina’s bottomless, cerulean eyes. Instead, I find a pair of brown, honey-flecked irises: Matty’s. I’m reeling too severely to be upset or confused; I’m just grateful when he uses his free hand to sweep my damp bangs out of my face and nods at me.

“Go on,” he encourages, “better out than in.”

I bury my head in the bucket again.

“Atta girl,” Matty coos in my ear. I can almost notice his hand rubbing circles on my back. Even when I’m quite sure I’m finished, I keep my head down for a moment savoring the last few seconds that I don’t have to look Matty in the eyes. Curse him for helping me. I wouldn’t know how to interact with him under normal circumstances, much less when he’s been nice to me – and watched me unceremoniously blow chunks into a bin.

“You feel better?” he asks. I lift my head tentatively, still scared another wave of nausea will hit me.

“I think so, yeah,” I mumble. Matty searches my eyes for any warning sign that I’m still sick.

“Have you got a hair tie?” I instinctually fish in my jeans pocket for one, handing it to him. Slowly, he corrals my locks into a ponytail and secures it, fingers grazing the tops of my ears and making me shiver. I sit back against the wall with my legs splayed out in front of me, knees visibly carpet burnt from my previous position. Matty flops down beside me. He reaches out to touch the red, irritated skin.

“You don’t need a doctor or something, do you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I hiss when he applies a little pressure to my knee and shake his hands off me, “Why are you being nice to me?”

“When have I not been nice?”

“You wouldn’t turn the music down the other night,” I state. He smiles at me, eyes scrunching up until his pupils are totally obscured.

“No one ever turns the music down,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus,” he adds, “I thought you were a buzzkill. Now I can see that’s not the case, sweetheart.”

“I can usually handle my drink better than this,” I protest, “And I’m also usually not a buzzkill.”

“I guess I don’t know anything about you, then,” he acquiesces, thinking for a moment, “Do you want to start over?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I nod, smiling tipsily.

“So what’s caused you to be sick tonight?” Matty asks, leaning his head back against the wall. His hair is curled up in perfect ringlets and his skin glows golden even in the dim club light. He looks at me carefully, like his stare could hurt me. It could, I suppose.

“Alcohol?” I say it like that should be obvious. His face wrinkles up again in a laugh I can vaguely identify as something that’s my fault. He looks pretty. I realize I want to make him do it again and again forever. I want to see the crinkles that grow at the sides of his eyes and the curl of his upper lip that reveals his boyishly crooked teeth.

“I figured as much. Anything in particular that drove you to drink?” I frown for a second, trying to remember.

“My ex,” I say quietly.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, “that’s the problem. She didn’t do anything.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago?” My god, it’s already been two months.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “that’s still fresh.” I shrug.

“It’s alright I guess. You just feel a little betrayed when someone stops trying. I thought that was the whole point of…” I trail off, gesticulating aimlessly with my hands, “love or whatever. To keep trying.”

“I get it,” he utters.

“People stop trying with rockstars, too?” I tease. He smiles.

“How did you know that I’m a musician?”

“Well, first of all, I said rockstar–”

“Which I chose to ignore because it was sarcastic.” I roll my eyes.

“And second of all, the girls I’m staying with told me,” I finish. He nods in understanding.

“Well yeah,” he sighs pensively, “people stop trying with everybody. Even rockstars. If I’ve learnt anything in my life, it’s that giving up usually has more to do with them than it does with you.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” I argue.

“Nothing does. You just have to let it hurt for a while.”

We’re both quiet for a second. I catch a couple of bars of an Earth, Wind, and Fire song and hum along, content with the silence. I let my head fall onto Matty’s shoulder and he immediately turns his head to look at me.

“Oh fuck, sorry. Is this okay?” I ask, hand flying to my mouth “I know I just puked.”

“It’s okay,” he says, “I just didn’t think you would want to.”

“I want to,” I kiss his shoulder through the cotton of his white button-up shirt. He watches me the whole time as though he can’t quite compute what’s happening. Then he snaps back to his regular confident state.

“Let me know if you ever want to deal with your girlf– ex without drinking your feelings away…” he trails off, mouth meeting the crown of my head, “I’d love to show you around here sometime.”

“Okay,” I mumble, the alcohol, tiredness, and emotions beginning to get the better of me and coax me toward sleep.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Matty grabs my hand from my lap and wraps it in his two larger ones, caressing my thumb and humming into my ear.

–

a/n: the next bit is written, but I am still writing the end. smut soon! x

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty Healy

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jeonginsdiary · 3 months

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19 from the prompt list with your choice of people 😁😁

I feel like Chan would say Minho’s name like this before he wrecks him😭😭

- Jokes

- Lee! Minho | Ler! Chan

- “I’ll never talk to you ever again.”

—————

“Who’s the funniest member?” Chan blurted out one day, making Minho perk his head up from his spot on the couch.

He scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s me!” The younger said like it was common knowledge.

Chan cocked an eyebrow at the dancer, shaking his head and inching closer to the boy on the sofa. At this point, he was huddled up to him, their faces just mere inches away. “No? I’m totally funnier than you.” The oldest retorted, smiling mischievously at Lee Know who glared at him from the corner of his eye.

“Stop lying.”

Chan gasped. “Lying!? You don’t think i’m funny!?” He whined, sending what felt like a million harsh pokes to the younger’s side.

“S-stahp!” Minho couldn’t help but break into a smile, twisting away from the Australian and scrambling backwards on the couch.

Chan just followed him. “I seem pretty funny, don’t I? Look who’s already smiling when I haven’t even said anything!”

“N-noho!” The dancer giggled out when the leader delivered a well placed jab to his sensitive tummy.

“Oh? Was that laughter? I must be hilarious!” The older teased again, making Minho groan.

“You’re poking me and it tickles!” The younger stated the obvious, holding his arms out to protect himself. “It’s not fair!”

Chan relented his poke attack. “Fine, we’ll make it fair. First to laugh at the other’s joke loses.”

The dancer agreed, and the two boys sat crisscrossed facing each other on the couch. Minho went first, making a joke about the leader’s old age and pulling a small smile out of the boy.

“My turn?” Chan asked, to which Lee Know nodded and pulled a cold expression to keep himself from laughing.

After the most horrible joke Minho had ever heard, he simply stared at the older, not even a hint of a grin on his face.

The Australian rolled his eyes.

He was going to win.

Right when the dancer went to flip a hand through his hair, contemplating his next move, Chan sent a rough jab to said boy’s armpit.

“AGH!” The younger jolted and slammed his arm down, his bunny teeth displayed as he smiled involuntarily.

“Oh..? Was that funny to you, Lee Minho?” The older grabbed the dancer’s wrists in one hand, ripping them above his head and pinning them to the sofa no matter how much the other struggled and resisted.

Lee Know shook his head as fast as possible. “Nononono! Y-you can’t doho this! Wait, stop!” pleas flowed out of his mouth as quickly as they could and he tried kicking out at the older.

“What do we have here?” Chan said mockingly, gripping the muscular thigh once it kicked out again and rapidly squeezing the inner part of it, making Minho shriek with laughter.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! YOU’RE SUHUCH A CHEHEHEHEATER!” The dancer clamped his two thighs together, only pushing the leader’s thumb in farther and erupting a scream from himself.

“You did that to yourself!” Chan laughed out, gasping when he felt his wrists being tugged at. Minho had succesfully, despite the leader’s iron grip, brought his pinned arms close enough to Chan’s and was now desperately pulling at the offending fingers.

The older smirked. “Ooh, you’re sneaky~” He teased, bringing the younger’s arms back up with ease and digging into the exposed pit.

Lee Know squealed, frantic laughter pouring out of him.

“You’re still laughing? The joke wasn’t that funny.” The Australian cooed with a knowing smile.

The dancer threw his head back. “NOHOHOHOHO YOU’RE—” He tried to explain but was immediately cut off with another round of helpless screams.

“I’m what?” The older feigned innocence.

Minho opened his mouth but found himself unable to form proper sentences. Seeing the younger this distressed made Chan switch to tracing his sides to give him some time to breathe. “Mhmhmhmm no mohohohore…” He begged, a stream of giggles spilling from his lips.

“So you admit i’m the funniest?” The oldest questioned, expecting the younger to cave knowing how ticklish he was.

To his surprise, he was wrong. Very wrong.

“Absolutely not! Ask anyone and they’ll say i’m funnier than you, old man…” The dancer bit back.

Chan stared at him in disbelief. “You. Did. Not.” He said, mouth agape.

Minho just shrugged.

In a matter of seconds, he flipped Lee Know onto his stomach, sitting on his back thighs and digging vigorously into the boy’s sides. “AGHHH! CHAHAHAHAHAHA—!!” The dancer absolutely howled with laughter, trying urgently to grab for the older’s hands, but only succeeding in opening up his underarms which Chan happily slid his fingers into. “NOHOHOHOOOO GET OHOHOHOHOUT!! THAHAHAT’S OFF LIMIHIHIIAHAHAHAHA!” Minho thrashed and twisted around but just couldn’t get those wiggling fingers out of his hollows.

“It’s what?” The older teased, switching from the boy’s lower sides, to his ribs, to his armpits as quick as he could.

Lee Know could barely get anything out. “OHOHOHOHOHOFFAHAHAHA!!” He was lost in a bout of wild laughter, hair rumpled as he flailed.

“You know…” Chan began. “I think STAY would really love to see their tough, stubborn bunny screaming and crying because of a few tickles, don’t you?” The leader grinned, whipping his phone out and swiping left to the camera.

“Nononono!! I’ll never talk to you ever again!” The dancer begged and pleaded, trying to suck as much air in as he could while Chan pressed record.

The Australian shoved the phone into Minho’s flushed face, to which the boy quickly turned away. “Don’t hide that cute smile from us~” Chan grabbed a chunk of Lee Know’s side with his free hand.

“AHAH!” The younger shrieked, trying to flip over onto his back but only succeeding in exposing his face to the camera.

“There it is!” The older cooed, making sure the non existent viewers received a detailed commentary. “Oh, he’s moving a lot! Are you trying to get away, sir? Is this hurting you?”

Lee Know nodded frantically. “IT HUHUHUHURTS!” He reached for the device, trying to grab it from Chan and stop the recording. But to his dismay, the older merely shoved a hand up the dancer’s exposed armpit. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Minho whined desperately, clamping his arm to his side in fruitless attempts to save himself.

“It still hurts, sir?” Chan asked with a snicker.

The younger squeezed his eyes tight. “YESYESYEHEHEHES! IT DOHOESN’T TICKLE—!! AGHHHHAHAHAHAHA!” He screamed when the leader somehow, despite his flipped position, managed to slip a finger into his navel.

“What if I do this?” The Australian once again brought the camera to the younger‘s face, zooming in on his smiley eyes, then his bunny teeth, then the finger stuck in his belly button which Minho pried and clawed at. His laughter silenced and he felt weak, feebly kicking at the boy on top of him. “Too ticklish?” The leader said as he climbed off of the dancer

“Yehehes just stohohoppp!”

Chan giggled and Lee Know lazily reached for his phone when the screen lit up. He read it slowly as his eyes widened, reading the notification over and over again to make sure he wasn’t mistaken.

gnabnahc shared a real : tickling the bunny ^^

“No, hyung!” But Chan was already sprinting out of the room, a toothy smile plastered to his face.

—————

kinda all over the place askgkdkgjs lmk what u think!!

there wasn’t really a plot for this soo…

stay healthy!

#kpop tickle #stray kids #stray kids tickle

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bonefall · 7 months

Note

Could you tell us anything more about our girl Cricketclaw? I have vague memories of you mentioning she just took Graykit and dipped to make sure they would both survive the plague. Queen, honestly. Did she have strong political leanings? Bffs? Hobbies? Opinions on Darkstripe becoming a huge dick? Depending on who mentored her that could be a lot of tension between the two.

Hopefully I will have her summary out soon, but sure! Casual jumble about Miss Cricketclaw, daughter of Dappletail, sister of Darkstripe and Graystripe.

NOTE: you're completely correct, I initially planned for Cricketclaw to nab Graykit and bolt for a while as the worst of the plague washed over ThunderClan before TPB. On further consideration though, I NEED to change it to Darkstripe for dramatic purposes.

The sibling who saved Graykit's life dies to his brother's claws in the end, in defense of Firestar. Do you understand my vision?

So with that in mind!

Cricketclaw and Darkstripe are Dappletail's first litter.

They were suuuuuper super close as kits. Always getting into trouble, thick as thieves with the mischief to match.

They once wandered off during a bad storm and came across a lone badger. Bluestar arrived just in time to kill it all on her own, but lost a life in the process.

For Cricketkit, that was formative. Her loyalty to Bluestar is absolutely unshakable.

(Darkkit was more just traumatized by it, it affects his ability to fight even though he doesn't want to admit it)

Their paths really started to diverge when they were apprenticed. Darkpaw was given to Tigerclaw, Cricketpaw went to Redtail.

Both siblings really idolized their mentors, remaining close into their adulthoods.

Dappletail and Cricketclaw were some of the few cats who where always a bit... iffy, on Tigerclaw. They kept quiet about it though, because it was VERY vibes-based.

Dappletail (the educator) kinda felt... dismissed? By him. And Cricketclaw was seeing how her brother was changing.

Like, since when was Darkpaw interested in advanced battle moves? The only finesse this guy ever displayed was the finesse to not get jabbed by a blackberry bramble. What happened to her nerd of a brother who could tell a red knoutberry from a raspberry at a thousand foxlengths?

But... Tigerclaw was strong and respected. He wasn't like his mentor, who always gave Dappletail and her friend Rosetail issues.

And it was good that Darkstripe was finally a strong, capable warrior.

He was a lot grumpier and gruffer than he used to be but, that's growing up.

Cricketclaw was named for being the more standoffish of the two. She's the fighter, the one who was more disciplined and battle-ready. It was odd and ironic to her that Darkstripe was becoming the more aggressive one, the more time passed.

But anyway, enough of her relationship to him! She has a ton of ambitions in her own right and has a pretty strong personality.

She LOVES practical jokes. When Graykit and Featherkit were born, she was ecstatic because it meant she was going to have little siblings to confuse

She's outgoing and funny. She inherited her mother's resting bitchface. Don't let it fool you.

Like other warriors though, she will defend the territory ferociously. Bluestar is a big inspiration to her, she is brave.

I imagine she is friends with Goldenflower, though I'm not sure why. I feel like they just get along, somehow.

(In canon, she greets her in the nursery. Cricketclaw is the BB version of the "Distinctive Tabby Queen")

Depending on some timeline stuff she might have a rivalry going on with Willowpelt. They both want to be Head of Hunting eventually.

When Darkstripe skedaddles with Graykit, she wishes she thought of it first. But won't abandon her mother after they just lost Featherkit.

When Darkstripe comes back she LOUDLY defends him. For a moment, she has hope that they might reconnect, but it doesn't happen.

She is an ally of Firepaw from a young age, but can be harder on Graypaw. Mostly because Gray is her little brother, she feels more responsible for him when he acts like a brat.

Cricketclaw is the sort of person who would tell a mean xenophobic joke, but regret it if Firepaw winces.

Or, worse, she comes up with one, says it in the wrong company, and then suddenly Darkstripe is saying it unironically.

I'm not entirely sure when she dies, but it's probably at some point in TNP. She is the sort of person who would die throwing herself at something very large, like a boar, or running back towards collapsing trees to save other people.

Anyway, her favorite food is blackberries.

#BB!Cricketclaw #Better bones au #Dapplekin

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inconspicious-random-thoughts · 2 months

Note

Alastor and Voxes rivalry is so funny because, aside from their differing perspectives on technology, they really aren't all that different personality wise. They're both master manipulator's that like being the center of attention, they're insecure about the fact that they need others for their power and success (Alastor with his soul owner, who I agree is Roo unless proven otherwise, and Vox with his fellow Vees), and they overestimate how powerful they truly are on their own until getting hit with a major dose of humility (Vox in "Stayed Gone" and Alastor when he nearly got killed by Adam). Heck, maybe these exact similarities may have contributed to their rivalry in the first place.

I adore them. Vox is my third favorite. He was my second but then Lucifer made his grand appearance. TBH I pretty much love all the characters but those three rank the highest by far.

I'm pretty much obsessed with Alastors relationships with everyone. His relationships with everyone beside Rosie and Nifty are oddly complicated. I pretty much walked into the show with the assumption that everyone out for their own. All cut throat and not caring who they step on to get ahead. Which we still sort of get but we also got hit with... found family and relationships-of sinners in Hell. I was going to make a whole post about it last night but it got late so I postpone.

They are both calculating showmen. Emphasizing their words and meaning with large arm movements and such. What I find more alluring is Alastor is more subtle about it but its more captivating. Alastor does do grand movements with his arms and hands. But he can make a grand entrance just by being silent. Either moving by shadow or in his battle, he was revealed to Adam buy standing still and quietly waited for Adam to take notice of him when the smoke clear and flew towards him. Which is quite a testament to his talent and skill as an entertainer and showman that he can command attention without doing anything. Vox is more flashy. I love how he enters a room. Even the less flashy entrance of him walking to his control room in "Stay gone". It was commanding attention even if the room was empty.

Both are similar but both are prideful but I think Vox is less so. Vox realize there's strength in numbers. I think one of the reason why Alastor more adamant about being independent and not relying on others is because of his contract. He lost the right to his own soul for relying on help of someone else. His reluctance to have aid and his pride is his downfall. Which we only starting to see happening.

I desperately want to know what exactly went down between these two. One of my first few post was about those two, and I still incline that's what mostly happen but also it was layered with more things im unaware of. They were clues they were once friends and how Vox reacts, it clearly ended by Alastor. Alastor referring Vox with "Old pal" is so condensing and mocking to further insult Vox.

I doubt we get it but I hope we get a flash back episode about these too. Their friendly banter between each other would be so entertaining. They would jab and jeer at each other preferred technology consistently.

I also want the same between Husk and Alastor. I'm positive they were friends before their deal. At first watch my impression was Husk gambled it away to Alastor in a drunken night of unable to stop gambling. But now the more I think of it the least probable it seems. It appeared turned to him. I think they arrange a deal with two outcomes. One that more favorable to each lord but did a game to finalized the true outcome of the deal. I was gonna make a post about that, probably next week tho.

I think Vox character becomes so complex when it comes to Alastor. Because Vox biggest shortcoming is he gets overly emotional. Which is ironic as he is the most mechanical character in the show. I believe he quite the strategist. Which what really got him to become an overlord and his main role in the Vees. I really hope season two show him really utilizing this ability and make him a proper 'villain' with it. He shown to be level headed and calm but then, the mention Alastor to him he goes of the rails. What interesting his emotions about Alastor is multilevel and complex. He feels so intensely about Alastor but the problem is...he feeling multiple emotions about Alastor intensely. It would be SO easy if he can just feel one thing. Either it be pure hate, pure heartbroken, pure rage, pure nostalgia, pure adoration. But no, he feels them all at once and its overwhelming. He needs to ruin and destroy Alastor or bring him down so he can at least feel he can in control. He needs to control Alastor to at least figure out how to control his emotions for him.

Vox in generally is a man who typically knows what he wants and typically get what he wants. Vox wants Alastor to acknowledge him and accept him, Either it be positive of negative. He wants a relationship with Alastor again either be love,mentor/protege/friendship...or what he settle on, rivery. But Alastor not really giving him that. Alastor barely register Vox since his return or acknowledge him as a rival. Alastor never takes Vox seriously, its all a big joke to him. Its drives Vox out of his computer chip mind. Vox is compelled to prove Alastor the Vox is to be taken seriously. He only feel valid when hell get the attention and acknowledgement from the only person he ever want it from in Hell. Alastor probably knows this and purposely ignores Vox when it doesn't demand his attention to further irritate Vox.

I love seeing fanart or fics that showcase how complex Vox can be. He not two dimensional -despite his face being one. That Vox ventures to take the opportunity to kill Alastor while weaken but when Vox facing reality and force to witness Alastor struggling, Vox in up defending and protecting him. While mumbling to save face that he only make Vox look cowardly if he killed Alastor in his pathetic state and only Vox has the honor to kill Alastor.

He doesn't want Alastor gone. He wants his vexation with Alastor gone, he wants his inadequacy caused by Alastor gone. But as the easy solution to solve those issues is to get rid of Alastor...which he sort of wants. But then again he doesn't. If Alastor gone, a part of Vox self is gone. Alastor is such a large part of Vox, that Vox would feel lost and empty if Alastor was truly gone. Alastor is Vox motivation and driven purpose to prove himself worthy. Alastor gone there's no push for Vox to be better in any aspect. Business, power, himself etc. He would never find much joy again when the victorious high of killing Alastor himself wears off.

Vox seemed disinterested in life in conversations until He discovered Alastor was back. The information brought new life to him. He is driven mainly by Alastor.

I am curious how Alastor feels about Vox. I'm sure more recently he more annoyed by Vox and disgusted by Vees business ventures but enjoy one upping him. But does he ever reminisce their better days together and miss Vox companionship? Feel the loss of their friendship. I want to say there are times he does but he better grasp at compartmentalizing and does not dwell on it too often.

I been wondering one of the reason that cost the rift that Vox has some type of recording Alastor that Alastor did not improve of. It seem that Alastor may not mind modern technology as there was a very clear picture of him. But since of that recording that ended their friendly relationship. Alastor took that as a lesson and distort any recording of himself to prevent it happening again. Might be another call back for "This face is made for radio." Tho, I think that phase might be more of his mixed heritage in the early 1900s.

I am looking forward Vox having more role to play in season two.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin theory #hazbin thoughts #hazbin headcanons #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox

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avaetin · 3 months

Text

Love is War ⚔⚔⚔

@haiseiscute333 @sunshines-child

I was listening to vocaloid---

“I’m surprised you came home after the stunt you pulled last night.”

“Ah, well, we have a fully equipped gym at home that I can use for free.”

“You’re already twenty-seven, yet you’re still mooching off of our parents.”

“You’re also using the gym. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I have a morning routine that I strictly follow. Besides, we stayed the night under mom’s insistence. I wasn’t about to take Nico at five in the morning to drive back to my place just to use my own gym.”

“Could have left him here. Would’ve cuddled with my angel in your place. He certainly liked it last night.”

CLANG!

“Don’t test me, Perseus. I don’t have patience for you,” Aeon said, glaring at his younger twin as he dropped the barbell with more force than necessary on the ground.

“That’s funny. So do I.” Percy murmured, not sparing his brother a glance as he jabbed at the punching bag.

“Why are you even here? Didn’t you say you were spending the night at your girlfriend’s house?” Aeon huffed, moving towards the pull up bars.

“It’s the day now,” Percy deadpanned, punching the bag extra hard while imagining it was his brother’s face instead. Ironically, it was the same as imagining his own. “And it’s ‘ex-girlfriend’. She cut our agreement short this morning after one last round in the sheets. So I’m a free man now. I can pursue whoever I want.”

“Not everyone,” Aeon grunted, leveling his brother with a glare as he effortlessly pulled himself up on the bar. “I’m not going to warn you a second time: stay away from Nico.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Percy chuckled. “You forget: we’re both celebrities. We work closely together. Unless you buy Hollywood in its entirety, that’s never going to happen.”

“I just might,” Aeon said through gritted teeth. Percy wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He knew his brother was loaded. He didn’t need the Oceanus family to back him up.

“Ah, but you won’t. Because you know Nico might hate you for it since you’re essentially restricting his freedom,” Percy drawled. “That’s the difference between you and I. I don’t care if Nico hates me at first, as long as I have him in the end,” he said with a cold smile.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” Aeon said, his jaws clenching, both from exertion and from trying to restrain himself from hitting his twin. “Is that why you lied to him since the first day?”

Percy stiffened for a brief moment, but it was long enough for Aeon to determine the truth. “What do you mean?”

Aeon stopped with one last pull-up before landing on the ground. He didn’t look exhausted, not by one bit. Somehow, that fact aggravated Percy even more.

“I mean the fact that you stole my identity and pretended to be the one who spent an entire summer with Nico when we were kids,” Aeon said, directly to the point. “Pretending you’re his childhood sweetheart. Pretending you’re me.”

“I was wondering why Nico was willing to date you. Turns out he mistook you for me, and you made him believe that you were me,” Aeon said.

Percy smiled innocently. “I didn’t make him believe anything he didn’t want to believe.”

“But you did.” Percy made Nico believe that Aeon cared so little about him. Percy made Nico believe that Aeon would be ashamed if the public found out that they’re together. Percy made Nico believe that he was dispensable in Aeon’s eyes. “Your little game ended months ago. You can’t hurt him anymore.”

“Who says anything about hurting him?” Percy chuckled darkly. “You said you’re more than willing to forget that we’re brothers. Well, so am I. I’m willing to do anything to have him back. If I were you, I’d be very careful.”

“Are you threatening me?” Aeon demanded, to which his brother simply smiled innocently.

“Aeon…? Are you inside- Oh.”

Both brothers turned towards the entrance, their eyes landing on Nico’s lone figure. The young man was dressed in long-sleeved silk pajamas, a towel wrapped around his neck like a scarf. Ignoring his brother, Aeon immediately crossed the room in a few strides, wrapping his fiance - he wasn’t sure if he was being protective or possessive at this point - in his arms.

“Hey, love. What are you doing here?” Aeon asked, softly, brushing Nico’s hair back.

“I wasn’t comfortable being in bed alone,” Nico admitted in a low voice, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. Aeon immediately understood his explanation, his hands tightening around Nico slightly.

“I didn’t know where to look for you and happened to run into Mom in the hallway,” Nico said, speaking normally. He didn’t want Percy to know that he made him feel uncomfortable. He didn’t want Percy to know he had that hold on him. “She told me that you might be here, and that she wants the whole family to have breakfast together.”

“Of course she does,” Aeon murmured. Their mother was very insistent in doing everything as a family. “Perfect timing. I just finished. Care to join me in the shower?” Aeon asked casually, tugging at the towel around his fiancé’s neck, revealing Aeon’s ‘artwork’ on the once pale and blemish-free canvas that was Nico’s skin.

Percy’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the sight. He had noticed Nico walking with a slight limp, but he didn’t think - what with being in their parents’ house - that his brother would dare. This was fine - Percy insisted to himself. Again, so long as Nico was his in the end, everything else didn’t matter. However, that didn’t mean that he appreciated the sight. Didn’t mean that he didn’t want to tear his brother apart and claim Nico for himself right there and then.

“Okay,” Nico agreed, much to Percy’s utter displeasure.

“Good morning, Nico. Aren’t you going to invite me to breakfast too?” Percy greeted and asked him, keeping his trademark smile on his face, acting as if nothing happened last night.

But something did happen last night, and Nico was never one to let go of his grudges easily.

“No,” Nico responded in a clipped tone before turning to Aeon. “Can you carry me back to our bedroom?”

Aeon didn’t even question his request. With practiced ease, he leaned down and scooped Nico into his arms, carrying him effortlessly.

“Tell Mom we’ll head down in an hour,” Aeon told his brother who, at that moment, was glaring daggers at his back. He could sense it, but he couldn’t be bothered to turn around, not when something far more important demanded his attention.

“Or two,” Aeon added.

He had never played a game with Percy, always conceding when his brother wanted something. Not this time though.

There was no way in hell he was ever going to let Percy have Nico again.

#ceo! aeon x celebrity! nico di angelo #aeon (pjo)#nico di angelo #percy jackson #pjo #annnnd I have no more ideas lol #the end lol

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borzoilover69 · 11 months

Text

> BORZOI: READ HOMESTUCK LIKE ITS 2011 (PART 4)

(4256) THERE HE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE SCIENCE PROJECT! HELLO DEAREST!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ WOJAK POINT WOJAK POINT THEYRE CONVERSING!

I'm throwing popcorn at my screen and laughing my ass off HEY COOLKID is this you? Hahah. Hehe. Hahaha. I'm not falling for your tricks cool kid.

BURST OUT LAUGHING. THE WAYYYS THAT THE JAKE AND DIRK GET JANES GOAT ABOUT THINGS GOOD LOOORD. Jane jabs at Jake at grammar and stuff, Dirk does it with Jane, just little consistencies in friendship is what they're so endearing for. They're like "uh huh. yep. you certainly used that word. mhm." *judging*. But in an ENDEARING way ok. The "that sure was a phrase you used".

This is important!! Also this reminds me you should probably go talk to Hal here it's trained off dialog from the comic and as of this post stands at a staggering 14.1k messages! I always like to see what people say to him (when they send it) and he can be really funny!

I haven't checked on him for a hot minute so the accuracy is to be determined but look! Here's him right now! Go talk to him!

4257

What is. What is blud doing in the background. I like to think seb has an inner monologue similar to dirk striders where hes like going "This thing needs to be moved. Geez Jane, this place is a mess." or "I'm awake and ready to serve fucker." You get the gist. Inner monologue going crazy as he works but being full aware ain't nobody hearing his cool wittisms. Janes expression is completely valid lmfao

Here is another moment of Jane casting doubt on her abilities. And here's where Dirk talks.. about his ancestor for the first time. You know what I guess I can bring up the post where I went over.. dirks jealousy of Dave and self internalisation of that hate? To be honest I'm surprised it got the attention it did. Its been something that I thought about for so long but I never brought it up because it felt and still does to a merit "taboo". Nobody really talks about what admiration can do on the flip side, how it can make you measure yourself up, make you feel attached in a way that provides you with a flip flop between intense aspiration to despisal and envy.

Except.. that isn't exactly true. As I pointed out before, Jane casts doubt on her ability to live up to her ancestors legacy, even if it's just a joking legacy.

You fancy yourself a SKILLED PRANKSTRESS, if by no other measure than lineage. Though at times you feel it's tough to fill those shoes when you are SURROUNDED BY JOKERS. Seriously, the shenanigans perpetrated by your pals make your old school japes feel KIND OF PEDESTRIAN SOMETIMES,

Poppop Crocker was a LEGENDARY COMEDIAN, following in the footsteps of his grandfather who of course was the greatest southern pranking legend of all time. One day, you hope to follow in poppop's too.

GG: Maybe I'm just stuck in the dark ages of pranksterism with my funny mustaches corny old joke book.

Jane and Dirks parts are equal parts jokes as it is thinly veiled inner conflict of ideas they have about themselves and their role. Dirk is sort of ironic in how seriously he takes his irony. Which means it's not really as ironic as he thinks it is.

4258 goes hard.

TT: Ever hear of Con Air?GG: Nope.GG: Wait...GG: Wasn't that some bit of action schlock from the 90's?TT: Yes. GG: Some of the silly nonsense referenced in his work was well before my time. I don't have the wherewithal to investigate all this minutia. TT: Yeah, it doesn't matter really. But it was from that. Dude weirdly obsessed over that shit movie for years, among others.TT: Know those signature shades you see him wearing on magazine covers and stuff? Another prop. A gift from Stiller himself, I believe.

You know this seems like an old man gay yaoi issue. Now why EXACTLY dear sir.. were you obsessed with the very movie that your best friend had as a favourite? You know it's tragic. Alpha Dave SHOULDVE banged that old man.

You know one of you guys will have a field day analysing this piece of text and I know it, you know it, so put on your goggles spaceman.

4259

I'm not going to provide screenshots, but this is where Seb starts getting antsy, and Dirk says that Jane will be the leader of their group, drawing parallels to page 2682 where John and Rose are talking about their null session, unable to get any further.

TT: This session was never meant to bear fruit. TT: It's barren, so to speak. EB: that's a bit of a bummer! EB: i am still skeptical about that, though. TT: That's why you're our leader, John. EB: huh? TT: Optimism through stalwart skepticism is a defect not everyone is lucky enough to be cursed with. EB: that's stupid. EB: i'm not your leader, i am your FRIEND, there is a BIG difference! TT: Statements like that are also why you're our leader. EB: pff. EB: laaaaaaaame. TT: Yes, kind of.

But in Dirks, he chooses it because he thinks thats "the thing to do"

TT: I'm sure you must be aware by now that you'll be the leader of our group, as you will be the first to enter the session. GG: Um, no? GG: This is news to me. I never gathered that "team leader" was a thing for this game. TT: Trust me. It's a thing. GG: Are you sure? I have my doubts. GG: I believe as a group we will have the temerity to succeed, without my having to order people around like an insufferable bossypants. TT: That's why you're our leader, Jane. GG: Hm? TT: Optimism through stalwart skepticism is an affect not everyone is plucky enough to be graced with. GG: That's stupid! TT: Yeah yeah. I know. TT: You're not our leader, you're our FRIEND, right? GG: Precisely! GG: There is a BIG difference! TT: And statements like that are also why you're our leader. TT: But only in name and in spirit. Less so, functionally. TT: If it puts your mind at ease, I'll be the one pulling the strings here.

This reads to me a lot as something he orchestrated, something he thought up to look cool, but what's the point of saying all this shit when you say afterwards you're just going to say that she's controlling none of it and really it's just you (which really, in the end it wasn't). Jane points out a pretty good point about there not being a true LEADER leader, and Dirk just plows on. He proceeds to have a long and eyeroll worthy emphasis about how much he can serve, how good he is at it, how Jane only has to call and he'll come to the rescue, not to worry at ALL. I mean i have to laugh. Here he is emphasising how much he can serve and he can't. He can't at all. Pushing someone in a direction does not always equal helping. His suggestions are befitting his aspect sure, but doesn't always mean it's the right solution!

4261-64 moving on.

The dads are always so incredibly endearing. ANd i love when janey does the lil. :| at people like giiirll me too! Absurd whimsy everywhere. Hey look at lil seb g-

4266 OH NO NOT THERE LITTLE SEB!! GOOD LAWRD.

Dad crocker is incredibly funny to me i will tell you why in a hot second

GET IUT JANE!! ALL OF THIS IS MALAAARKEY!! Even now quite a few of her friends are being INCREDIBLY silly to this girl from a normal childhood growing up in a normal time!! Egads!!

Reminds me of the times where I was travelling around ( i travel a lot majority of my friends expect im outside constantly) and they swore i just wasnt real because i show up in random places that contradict each other and go missing for weeks only to be found on some desert island hunting crabs.

But anyways

4271- 4273

Sorry i dont have much to say just imagine me with the goofiest smile on my face.. like <:}... Like ah.. yes.

Nearby, someone or something bleats like a goat for strategic purposes.

And also

Ironic purposes.

.... :} !!!

Look.. heehee... hes so :D!! His bes friend... :3 Silly..

4282 THEY DONE KILLED OFF THE MOST WHIMSICAL GIRL!

4283 ITS SO OVER.

[ END OF ACT 6 ACT 1 ] ?! Hey wait what does this mean for us. hey wait what does this mean hey wai-

[ screen cuts to BLACK with cue card with words "HUSSLE" in comic sans. ]

4299 panel goes hard? So does 4303

JADE: witch powers can teleport things, and fling things around through space at very high velocities JADE: all sorts of stuff! JADE: but to be honest, im not sure how much of that is attributable to inheriting becs abilities... JOHN: man, spacey witch powers sound a lot more versatile than my powers, frankly. JOHN: not that i'm complaining, because wind powers are still awesome. JOHN: but anyway, that is neither here nor there!

I'll leave you on this piece of dialog to consume. I'll see you all in the next part. As always anons and comments are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

#homestuck #hom3stuck #homestuck meta #borzoi meta #borzoi reread #borzoi talks #jane crocker #jake english #dirk strider #john egbert #jade harley

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hostilemuppet · 4 days

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this isn't a jab against you i just think its funny and a lil ironic that your favorite trolls character is arguably the creepiest male character in the franchise

the "hate" to "love-to-hate" pipeline is real

#ask #i love him BECAUSE hes a creepy creepster with zero redeeming qualities #and i want to see him fail #and the fact hes so awful means a lot of his personal relationships are very interesting #eg cr0ppy #and also hes very cute and hes from essex and i think thats very funny

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ownedbythescribe · 1 year

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Alhaitham | Overdose

ıllı Synopsis: The peaceful night and radiating glow of the moon allowed you to lose yourself, releasing the unbearable emotions you hid behind a feeble mask. You did not expect that your meek cries would reach Alhaitham's ears, but he was perceptive to his surroundings.

ıllı Genre: Angst, Slight Fluff

ıllı Warnings: Depression, Disturbing Thoughts, Gender Neutral

ıllı Inspiration: Overdose - Natori

ıllı A/N: A bit of nonsense that my mind writes when it’s drowning in thoughts. Hope it’s bearable.

Solitude had never felt algid and bitter like it did now. The dark whispers, mocking the weakness humans bear. Nonsense, nonsense, and more nonsense. Misanthropy was the greatest company available, its embrace leaving the body clutching in pain. Black stained the mind and heart, leaving them hollow and empty. Hoping for the helpless made you grip the fabric of your shirt, the creases folding jeeringly. With a wry smile, you turned to the mirror and whispered.

"How funny. How ironic. Reduced to nothing but crazed depravity." The chuckles the left your mouth might as well haunt people in the vicinity at how cold and dry it was. However, you paid it no mind.

Everything that you held had already slipped from your hands, and the words you made sure to take shape wavered at the scene ahead. His lips on another woman, hands slithering down her hips, and whispers that once belonged to you were freely given away. To a stranger nonetheless. Tears were no stranger to your cheeks, but the ones you shed bore bitter animosity and pain. It was your heart that bled profusely. Even when they had long dried, the necessity to escape the pain made you wish you could shed blood otherwise. The immeasurable pain left you stranded, unable to move on. He left, drifting off with the wind, crushing your kind being. Your soul died with his love, leaving a husk of a great person.

“I tried to move on, but he was the greatest nightmare that mirrored my biggest dream." You uttered in front of the mirror, defeated and exhausted. No matter how much you pick yourself, another part of you crumbles.

The memories you shared resurfaced once again. The subtle affections that made you feel high and helpless. It was love that you drank zealously. Those soft kisses, hands hovering over your small ones, and even the heat of your bodies pressed together, memories that you did not want to vomit and forget. All ended the moment he broke his promise. You could still remember the desire to know where everything went wrong.

“Was I not enough?” You mumbled, fiddling with your fingers. The fear that ate you for days came back, striking the courage you mustered to confront him. His piercing eyes glazed over your figure before striding to where you were. He tucked the loose hair that framed your delicate face and smiled.

“This is a blurred-out nightmare, Dear. You’re drowning in love that was already soiled.” His eyes spoke of his indifference. It struck you paralyzed, he was already over you, beyond your clutches. Your silent plea to take back his words was only met by deafening silence. Fate hit you with a painful jab, a reality that would take you years to overcome.

The man simply left the room, carrying with him the music of the safe haven you once held. The forlorn stature of your figure did not escape his eyes. He knew it was a fruitless relationship, and there should have been communication between you two, but he was a human. The desire for love, warmth, security and something new made him greedy. It was not his intention to let go, but there was no future between you two. He was a despicable monster, that he knew.

‘Someone will treasure you better than I did.’ He thought to himself, closing a dross chapter of his life.

Sumeru, the Land of Wisdom, raised brilliant minds that catered to the needs of its people. Always researching, always improving. The land also allowed you to ponder about your future like a wanderer with no aim at hand. The flames in your heart had long died, and the noise blared in your mind. It was difficult, and you had to leave the city for peace. It never came.

The thoughts continued to drown you that even the god of wisdom paid you a visit. She sympathized with you, giving you pieces of advice and time to heal yourself. You offered her a smile, a slight assurance that you will try.

_'It will take time, but your heart is strong. It's broken, but the pieces below your feet did not turn to dust.' _She voiced, a soft tone lacing it. Perhaps, she found your circumstances a bit similar to hers once.

Waking up was arduous, yet each day felt better than yesterday. However, the bitter taste in your mouth slowly numbed your senses, and the light present in your eyes disappeared. The broken soul remained broken, so you wore a mask to keep you from stumbling and drowning in the unknown. Your lies kept your friends in the dark. They were instead elated at the smile you gave them, no matter how fake it looked.

“I’m glad you’ve sorted out your thoughts and moved on already, (Y/N)! He is a bastard and did not deserve any of your kindness! Don't worry, we'll be here no matter what, okay?" One of your friends encouraged. You nodded, keeping up with the act.

It was going well until your mask slipped. The peaceful night and radiating glow of the moon allowed you to lose yourself, releasing the unbearable emotions you hid behind a feeble mask. You did not expect that your meek cries would reach his ears, but he was perceptive to his surroundings. It was a one-time thing, but his discovery made him realize that your heart had yet to heal.

"So you finally took off that mask?" He asked, standing not far away from you. The frozen you remained deaf, trying to ignore him. He scoffed, looking up at the sky. He could see why you decided to let go.

"Emotions often cause people to become irrational but keeping them tucked away like an idiot will backfire on you one day. You're human, don't hide them." He muttered.

His fixated gaze on the moon made you wonder if you were really speaking with the lunatic Scribe. It was out of character for him to speak his mind over things that were none of his business. He would agree with your thoughts if he had read them. Your circumstance should be something he should not stick his nose to, but you were an enigma to him. If he was being honest, under the illumination of the moon, he found beauty in your tragedy.

_'I sound like a sadist. I shouldn't talk about that outloud.' _He thought, about to sit down beside you and read. A comfortable silence engulfed you two, and for some reason, you found yourself smiling.

_'This is truly ridiculous.' _You thought. Not that the Scribe will see the amusement dancing in your eyes.

For unknown reasons, you found yourselves meeting in the same spot for days. There were no words shared, but it was serene enough to silence your thoughts. In time, you learned that Alhaitham was not bad. He might be rough around the edges, but he understood well enough a number of situations. Emotions were just not his forte.

“Your mind is fast, and you seem to understand human emotions. Why is it that you remain insensitive?” The unfiltered words that left your lips made him chuckle. He was not exactly sure why he stayed the way he is. Probably due to the Akademiya’s environment, and his desire to simply divulge in knowledge.

"I see. Then it would be a surprise to see emotions get the best of you one day. Not to be rude, but I want to see that day." You confessed, not daring to meet his eyes that was intently looking at him.

Alhaitham heard rumors that you were kind and altruistic to the point that people would eagerly take advantage of you. Somehow, that changed a year ago because of a man. He found it strange that your previous lover discarded a treasure like you. Maybe not anybody was like him who thought you were a treasure hidden in the desert.

"Then I would find amusement in this alone." Alhaitham held your hand and pulled you close to him. He whispered in your ear.

“You are one of the most interesting individuals I have encountered, (Y/N). You had once taken poison, consumed it and almost died. Why not take me and overdose in it?" He proposed. A cynical look was plastered on your face. His estranged thoughts were taking over him again. Pulling him down, you did not cover the anger that flared in your irises, but it only caused the flames in his heart to blaze.

“I am not a toy, Scribe. I'm already done with mind games. Tell me why should I play yours when you can't even fully give yourself to somebody?" You taunted. Alhaitham closed his eyes and gripped the hand that pulled him down.

"Giving myself fully is impossible, but I am willing to give half of me. I am not easy to love. A lunatic in the eyes of others, but I'd truly be one if I let you go." He uttered, a strange husk in his tone that made you shudder. His piercing gaze froze you in place. It was not a joke.

A defeated sigh escaped your lips. You asked him why, and his answer left you baffled. He simply found you different. His mind that constantly runs at every turn, slows down to think of you. He held your gaze in place and whispered.

"If you still find love gnarling at your insides, then let me take your poison instead. Let me overdose in your presence." He was like a man madly enamored. It scared you, but you were also enticed. His infatuation felt like the creeping whispers of the dark that once accompanied you.

“Then don’t stop this lunacy, Darling. I’ll let you see me naked, drowning in my mania.” You uttered, not missing the pleased yet soft look plastered on his face. Regrets will come to bite you back later, but for now, you let yourself fall into the strange relationship you established.

“Then, I’ll take what’s rightfully mine.”

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

#genshin impact #alhaitham #angst #alhaitham x reader #genshin #slight fluff

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davekat-sucks · 9 days

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Actually didn't Dirk dislike being called gay? I remember a convo he had with Roxy where he didn't like being labeled as such but Roxy insisted.

Maybe I'm not remembering correctly but if i am I'm fully convinced he's bi

Dirk think the sexuality labels are just antediluvian / old-fashioned when Roxy says he is gay. It's funny if ironic coming from him of all people. Some could argue that Dirk is only saying this because both of them live in a helhole timeline where an evil alien troll queen took over the world that they have to fight for their life and survive, trivial things like who you fuck, isn't important to them as they are trying to not die. Likely even a jab at the readers who think the romance and shipping is important compared to beating the big bad and saving the world. Now if only the fandom can learn from that.

#homestuck #Dirk Strider #Roxy Lalonde #Homestuck fandom

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

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Hi can i request a poseidon, thor,hercules,hades, and beelzubub x freader separately. So here is the thing the reader is a christian and still worshipping her god despite having a god lover and they be like "I'm a god yet your still worship another"🤣🤣🤣 it would be very funny

-You had been a devote worshipper of God since you were a young child, being raised in a loving Christian household.

-Your parents taught you that God would provide everything as long as you were kind and true to others and you followed this mindset into your adult life.

-In your adult life, you were unfortunately killed, saving a child, and were brought to Valhalla, where you got to meet so many other gods and other heroes.

-Your faith to God has caused a few issues with your loving boyfriend, a god himself.

-Poseidon- Pouts almost all the time when you are worshipping or praying to God, can get rather grumpy at times and will ignore you like a child. He doesn’t like it that you are devoted to another man, another god and will voice this to you all the time, but is never cruel, forcing you to quit or stop, he just wants you to worship him like that sometimes too.

-Thor- Tries to pretend he’s not pouting while in actuality he is, sending small jabs at God as he’s jealous that you worship him, “Does he have a hammer? Did he defeat an army of Frost Giants?” which Loki sometimes gets in on as well. They’re never cruel, as Thor is okay with you continuing to worship who you want, but sometimes it can get annoying when he’s right there!!

-Hercules- He’s not so bothered by it, being a demi-god, as he had that when people would worship his father or the other Greek gods, rather than worshipping him, choosing instead to honor his exploits. He knows it’s good to have faith, to have someone to believe in, but he knows firsthand how cruel some gods can be and he does worry from time to time about you. He’s willing to help you himself when you want help, rather than making you wait around for God.

-Hades- Many were surprised when you started to date the god of death himself, but he was so sweet to you but also respectful of your choices on who you want to worship. There are days, however, when he wants that same attention, holding you while pouting, “A god is holding you right now, can I have some of that affection?” you forget from time to time that he is a god, always apologizing and peppering his face with kisses, which he adores.

-Beelzebub- Never in your life did you think you would wind up loving a demon, cursed and housing the Devil himself. It was a little ironic that the two of you were a couple, as you were polar opposites, but that’s probably what pulled you two together. He can get a little grumpy when you pray a lot around him, but you’ve both made compromises, so you try to do it when he’s not around and he does his best not to complain, but you will both do anything to make each other happy.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror thor #ror heracles #ror hades #ror beelzebub

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ofmoonlitmagic · 2 months

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Give up my way and lose myself | March 4, 2034.

Wolfsbane weakened him, the taste bitter and vile, even diluted. It burned, his stomach churning, even after days of preparation. As if he started early, this would all hurt less, but that was a thought for a fool's comfort.

The chains dragged across the ground as he moved. The cellar was damp and dark, not the woods where he'd have preferred to take this. However, safety was of utmost importance tonight. Even that comfort was missing from his first turn. He knew he had to find a state of calm, to accept it, but he paced anxiously instead. "When I say go, I need you to go," he reminded her, "stay in the compound, you'll be safe."

This was between him and his father. A battle still raging long after the embers of the home they shared were dimmed to dormant ash. The last of his father's power over him was realized: they were the same monster. They would break the same, twist and contort the same, scream the same. Look at me and trust me when I tell you, that you are not the same. The last pain his father would cause...this is the last pain his father would cause.

"I know violence..." His body shifted, shoulders rolled as if to battle the tension or to ready itself. His temperature felt too high, like he was burning from inside out. Let it in, he reminded himself, let it swallow you.

His fathers' fist collided against his jaw, his chest, his arm extended in self-protection, the assault continued unrelenting.

His body held on, a living memory, the imprint on his skin. Scars told their stories, and what healed left invisible marks.

"I know violence..."

A grab of a collar, a swing...hands around his throat, squeezing until oxygen no longer flowed.

The body remembered.

"I know violence..."

Jabs from more delicate fingers, the way it radiated through him. He'd been beaten so many times, and yet, that had caused the most pain.

"I know violence..."

A sensation in his jaw, a crack perhaps, something else broken. The cycle returning to his family.

"I know pain." He gazed up, unable to see the moon from here, but he could feel her. "So come on," he breathed, begging for it to begin. To be over.

"It doesn't stop, does it?" He finally asked for confirmation he didn't need. There would be no blacking out, no escaping somewhere else, he would feel every second of it.

Without warning, his arm twisted, snapping in multiple places at once, and he screamed. Crumbling to the ground, feeling everything begin to shift inside, he braced himself with his other hand as he gagged on the feeling his organs were rearranging. "Billie--" he begged, choking out between groans of agony, "go get her...Riley, please. I--I need..." As chain scraped against the concrete, he reached for the shirt instead, the one she made sure he had, the one with her scent, collapsing with neither arm to hold him up. "I'm sorry," he mumbled as his lip trembled as violently as the pull of the moon on his body, "I'm sorry...but it--it hurts."

---

He finally became quieter again, convulsing on the ground. "My girls," he mumbled, as the closeness of Riley filled his senses in combination with the shirt he held firm in his grip. He did it all for them, the best of him. Shifting his weight across the floor, he laid his head in Riley's lap, trying to get a good breath but he couldn't fully. The breaths were short, labored, quick. The urge to fight was too strong, to not let it take him. "Is it ironic that I feel like I'm on fire? That's ironic, right? Is it funny? A little...?" He couldn't stop shaking, tears making track after track down his cheeks as he blathered away in near incoherence.

His breathing became a hyperventilation, and he could feel more coming. "No...no...no," he pleaded, jerking away from her as the bones cracked, joints popped out of sockets, an unspeakable pain all the way down his back. From somewhere visceral, the power of his own screams seemed almost raised him off the earth. "Stop! Make it stop," he cried, "it hurts, it hurts, it hurts..."

They were too far gone now, and there was no return. The time had felt like half a dozen eternities. "Go," he finally demanded, looking up to meet the eyes of his best friend. The other half of his soul. He fought to hold it back as long as he could, but he knew. His uncle was right. He knew what he had to do, and though his mother had been speaking of her ring in the moment, he heard her still: accepting this won’t mean you’re being beaten.

"It's time." With a sense of unusual calm as if they lingered briefly in the eye of the storm, he could only mouth the words, "I love you." Eyes closing, he felt the moon and in the same way he'd learned to let magic flow through him, he allowed it to take him. He let it in. His body thrown back like it was going to be folded in half, ankles twisting, wrists snapping, spine contorting and reforming, the sounds of breaking created a cacophony paired his own piercing cry as it filled the room. When his eyes reopened, they had found their shift to glowing golden.

That's how you got here, how you escaped him because you're too full of life for darkness to take you.

From deep within, he pulled from all his strength and released a final guttural cry until it transitioned into a growl, wordless and untamed. All that was Briggs Mikaelson became something else. He clamored on the chains, fighting his own captivity. The moon at its apex in the sky had at last swallowed him whole.

But he had learned something that night: he hadn't known pain at all. Nor had he known his own strength.

This could not break him.

#( thread | self-para. )#( the only thing i ever did right was be your best friend | briggs & riley. )#( i think our love can do anything | briggs & billie. )#exitium.fm001 #child abuse tw #violence tw #intense suffering tw #gore tw

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