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#but the occasional bitchy comment
puns-and-musicals · 2 years
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I don’t want an Izzy Hands redemption arc, I want Izzy Hands villain decay.
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nostalgia-tblr · 2 years
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the fuck is ezri doing on the bridge of the defiant anyway is she there to talk the engines down if they start having a bit of a panic mid-flight? oh no our weapons have low self-esteem get ezri to have a chat with them and maybe try some sort of cognitive behavioural therapy on them to help them feel better?
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ecoamerica · 22 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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rosesforwildwitches · 7 months
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Hey Tumblr people I need suggestions for things I can say to mentally break "alpha male" christiofascists, because I've already pissed them off but I'm getting tired and a bit bored with doing that and then just blocking.
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omgeto · 8 months
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☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU
summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.
wc: 3k
cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI
an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.
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as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.
and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.
he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.
"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.
"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."
geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."
your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"
he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."
with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.
"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.
his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.
you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.
geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."
“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”
"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."
you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.
with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."
he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."
you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.
with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.
"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 
geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 
his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.
"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.
“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.
“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”
“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.
he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.
as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 
“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.
“what type of pain?” you retort.
“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.
“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”
geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.
a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."
with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.
he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.
as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.
"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."
geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."
“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”
“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”
you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 
“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”
“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”
“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.
“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”
“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.
“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.
“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”
“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 
he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.
geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 
he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.
“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”
“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”
“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.
“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”
before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 
“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”
you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 
“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.
“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.
with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.
geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”
“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”
“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 
with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.
your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.
“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”
“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.
“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.
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AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS
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totheblood · 7 months
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I WISH I NEVER MET YOU.
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pairing: ex!ellie williams x reader
warnings: SUGGESTIVE mdni 18+... not sm*t but close... cursing, drinking, bitchy ellie
a/n: i love this song and was like wait... i need to write a fic based off of this song so i did that and i just love mean and spiteful ellie like... i apologize.. ai audios in the fic <3 reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.3k
"tryna forget the seven minutes we had in heaven."
The world was spinning.
Or that was what it felt like. The tequila you had downed earlier was now starting to mix with the joint you shared with Dina earlier on her front step. She had held the nearly finished stub in between her fingers and had her other hand tracing circles on the fleshy part of your thigh. It was all innocent as you laughed about the new job she had started and her weird coworker who had asked her out a few times. It was all innocent until she mentioned Ellie and how she said she was going to stop by later that night. 
It wasn’t a party, but it wasn’t not a party. A few of your friends had gathered at Dina and Cora’s new place, a housewarming party done their way. Inside a few friends had gathered around a table playing some card game and taking shots, but you needed some fresh air and Dina had followed you. From out here you could hear the faint music coming from inside, and the streetlights made Dina’s skin look golden, but it was still early and you were already fairly drunk. 
“She said she’s coming?” you confirmed, needing to double-check that Ellie agreed to be in the same room as you. 
“Yeah,” Dina coughed, taking a deep hit of the joint, the end glowing yellow and orange, “Said she feels bad about not coming around anymore.”
“Right,” you scoffed, grabbing the joint from her and taking a deep hit, closing your eyes as you blew out the smoke. 
“Can you not do that tonight?” Dina set her face up in a pout, eyes dramatically wide, “She’s finally getting over whatever this was and I just want us to be normal again.”
“I’m not doing anything,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter, “I tried to talk to her but she didn’t want to. Not my fault.”
“But isn’t it?” Dina started. She knew she was crossing a boundary she shouldn’t, but she was also tipsy and exhausted from the standoff you and Ellie had.
She wasn’t wrong, it was technically your fault. Months ago you were at a party gathering just like this, twice as drunk as you were right now. Some idiot, probably Cora, had suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven, just like you all had done in high school. No one in the room was sober, therefore everyone agreed. 
A circle was formed in the living room, everyone sitting with their legs criss-crossed on the floor, giggling and blushing like 10th graders. One couple had decided to sit it out and watch the game from the couch. Two seats to your left sat Ellie, hair pulled back into a loose bun and her face already a bright red. She never was your closest friend, but she was still someone you talked to often. You’d occasionally Facetime, send each other TikToks, and sit next to each other if the group went out for dinner. But you were not her best friend, and she definitely wasn’t yours.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about her often. She had this girlish charm that usually translated as awkwardness and she would always make jokes under her breath, just loud enough for only you to hear them. You didn’t notice how red she got whenever she made you laugh like she had just won the world’s biggest prize. But besides that, she was cute. Really cute, and perpetually single. The group would often make jokes asking why she never dated anyone, and she would just make some comment about how she was waiting for the ‘right one’. Her eyes would always flicker over to you when she said that.
But this night, when she spun the bottle and it landed on you she nearly choked. You looked up at her with your doe eyes, those fucking eyes, she thought, and she nearly lost it. Everyone was laughing, clapping, and hollering at the idea of the two of you being locked in a dim closet for 7 minutes. 
“We don’t have to…” She started, preparing herself for rejection, “if you’re not comfortable.”
“Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”
Click. 
The door locked the two of you inside the tiny room. This close to you she could smell you. She could smell the liquor coming off of you in waves mixing with vanilla perfume. There was just enough light for her to make out your features, the tip of your nose, and the crease in between your eyebrows. From this close, she could see everything.
“So…” her voice faltered, nervousness seeping into her tone, “what do we do?”
“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you whispered back, your voice immediately sending a flood to her pants.
“Do you want me to?” She whispered back, eyes searching your face and landing on your lips. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, before nodding. Fuck. She took a shaky breath, her calloused fingers grazing the open skin of your waist. Her fingers were cold but your body ran hot, you were unsure if it was the alcohol or her having this effect on you. Her fingertips curled inwards, pulling you closer to her.
You were now chest to chest, both of you heavy breathing despite not having kissed yet. You were so close that she could feel your heartbeat and your tits. She gripped you a little bit harder causing you to groan. It was all so painfully slow, each movement dragged out. She dipped her head down, her lips now just hovering over yours making your eyelids flutter closed. You could feel her smile before she kissed you, as slow and languid as her movements were before.
Her lips were soft, tongue peeking through and grazing your teeth, urging them open. She was kissing your like her life depended on it. Your hands gripped at her neck, trying to pull her closer but she stumbled forward pushing you into the shelf. 
“Fuck,” she breathed in between a wet kiss, “you okay?” 
“Mhm,” You hummed. Her hand moved down now, ghosting your ass before giving it a light squeeze and lifting your thigh up so she could get even closer. If it kept going like this she was going to be inside of you within minutes. She pushed closer, her clothed cunt griding up against yours, causing you to gasp.
“Feel good?” She teased, now moving to kiss up your jaw when- 
Click.
The two of you separated, hands smoothing out your clothes as the door opened. It was obvious what had happened, a little bruise had formed on your jaw where she had kissed, and she was now wearing lipstick she didn’t come to the party wearing. 
That night you went home with her. 
You shuddered thinking of that night, not knowing it was the beginning of the end. Whatever relationship you had with her was now ruined, and it was your fault. You spent nights crying over how much of your fault it was, but that wouldn’t change anything. You ended things, and Ellie wanted nothing to do with you now. 
“I guess,” you shrugged, “but people break up every day Dina. People move on.”
It was Dina’s turn to scoff as she snatched the tiny joint back from you, “You don’t move on that easily when you’re in love with someone.”
“She was not in love with me,” you rolled your eyes again, your high making you feel anger more than anything now.
“Oh, so you’re just fucking stupid,” Dina deadpanned, taking another hit, giggling as you shoved her playfully.
“Oh, fuck you,” you laughed, trying to keep your real emotions at bay. 
“Can’t,” she laughed, blowing smoke out her nose, “Ellie would probably murder me.”
The conversation wasn’t productive, but you didn’t want to be on the front step when Ellie arrived. You feared that if she saw you, she probably wouldn’t even come to the door, let alone inside. You honestly missed her, and you were beginning to forget what she even sounded like. 
Thirty minutes had passed and you started nursing your third drink, playing beer pong in the backyard when you noticed a familiar sound. Her laugh, over everything, was the only thing you heard. 
“Oh, um I have to use the bathroom,” you excused yourself running up the stairs and straight into the kitchen where Ellie was now alone, getting a drink from the fridge. She obviously didn’t see you come in, or thought you were Dina because she was speaking. 
“You only bought Truly’s,” she scoffed from the fridge, “fucking lame.” 
“Still better than a Four Loko,” you joked. You watched her pause, her whole body stiffening before standing up straight and closing the door. She stared at the refrigerator so she didn’t have to look at you. You watched her chest rise and fall as she took deep breaths. 
“What do you want?” Her tone was much colder now, her voice icy and mean. 
“Just wanted to say hi,” your voice was small, you hated yourself for it.
“Well, don’t,” she shook her head, turning to the counter now, the hard liquor lined up in front of her. She picked up vodka, bad choice.
“Can we just-” you stepped next to her, voice in a whisper loud enough she could hear. She tensed up as you stood close to her and you hated the position you were in. 
“No, we can’t,” She shook her head, pulling a red solo cup from its place on the counter and pouring the vodka in the cup, “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“But-”
“No fucking ‘buts’. You don’t get everything you want, okay?” She looked at you now, her green eyes now accompanied by dark circles. Her freckles were more prominent with summer finally coming to an end. She looked tired, but still beautiful, “You’re so fucking selfish.”
“I’m selfish because I couldn’t date you?” You laughed bitterly, that third drink hitting you like a bag of bricks, “That’s real rich considering you’re the one who’s been an asshole to me because you can’t fuck me anymore.”
She looked pissed. Her hands gripped the sides of the counter as she looked down at it, trying to stop herself from doing what she wanted to. Instead, she downed the vodka, not even flinching.
“No one wants to fuck you,” she looked at you, eyes glossed over, “and you’re the one who dumped me over text like a fucking coward.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“I’m an asshole to you because I want to make it perfectly clear I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to fuck you, I don’t want to see you, and I definitely don’t want to hear any sob story about how you ‘couldn’t’ do it. You’re a pathetic loser who broke up with me over text on our 6 month anniversary.”
“Ellie,” a voice from behind you caused you both to turn around. You wiped at the tears rolling down your face, “What the fuck?”
It was Dina, standing with her arms crossed as she watched you two in disappointment. You ran off pushing past her and into the bathroom, crying pathetically on the toilet and blowing your nose in the toilet paper. Back in the kitchen Dina had approached Ellie, an eyebrow raised as if she was waiting for an answer. 
“She just,” Ellie poured another cup, “she gets under my fucking skin, okay?”
“But talking to her like that?” She shook her head in shame, “What’s gotten into you?”
“She has!” Ellie replied, “That shit fucking hurt, okay? And I let her get away with it at first because I loved her but all she thinks is that I’m mad because I can’t fuck her. I’m over it.”
“She’s just saying that,” Dina’s voice was now more tender as she talked to Ellie, “she misses you and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”
“She doesn’t fucking miss me,” Ellie downed the second cup.
“You just tell yourself that because you wouldn’t know how to feel if it was true.”
“If she missed me she wouldn’t have done that,” Ellie sighed.
“Not everything is black and white,” Dina sighed looking to the side. “Just try to get over it before the trip. It’s a really big deal to Cora and I don’t want it to be a mess because you both are so miserable.”
“I don’t think I can come, D,” Ellie shook her head, fingers tapping on the counter, “Not like this, not with her.”
“Ellie, please don’t do this,” Dina held her shoulders, her eyes wide and sad. Ellie had a soft spot for Dina, which was the only reason she came to the housewarming party, but she was unsure of how much she would take before she snapped. 
“Fine,” she sighed, “but I’ll be driving by myself. I’m not sitting in a two-hour-long car ride with her.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dina squeezed Ellie tight, making her groan and attempt to push her off. 
---
The trip came sooner than expected, the party being nearly a month ago. You drove down with Dina and Cora, singing Lana songs the whole drive. The Hamptons were quiet around this time and Cora (and her rich family) owned a vacation house out there on the water. You spent nearly every summer here, you, Dina, Cora, Ellie, Jesse, Faye, and Cora’s twin brother, Orion all crammed into their giant house. Except this time was different. This was the trip that Dina and Cora were going to announce their engagement. 
No one knew yet, and Dina had wanted your little group of friends to be the first to know. A special intimate moment between the group and the place it had started. However, when you pulled up to the house, driving up the long driveway, you saw Ellie’s jeep parked out front with her and some girl leaning against the side of the car. 
You all hopped out, but you stood to the side as you watched Dina and Cora hug Ellie and this new girl. 
“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind,” Ellie spoke, eyes drifting to yours for a moment before she smirked, “this is my girlfriend, June.”
Fuck.
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svgvru · 6 months
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. . . more biblically accurate gojo rambles! "i'm in love with a little blue frog."
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𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 . . . he loves teasing you with them. he's always been insecure about them. his parents would never directly degrade him, but he could tell. they didn't like the way he looked. i mean—who would? three sets of eyes was not normal by any means, it was confusing for his parents considering he had curse-like features. my, my, the drama that occured. regardless, he never made friends. his face, paired with his immense power, made it nearly impossible for anyone to like him—truly like him. so he hid his face as best he could. bandanas, glasses, his hair, anything he could do to hide them.
and then he joined this choatic team which was led by yaga. suguru, you, him, and shoko. an unstoppable squad of the best new generation sorcerers. he was skeptical, then he got comfortable.
hed play with his glasses and accidentally flick them off his face, his bottom pair if eyes would squint at the sudden exposure to light as he searched for his glasses. he only paused when he realized the three of you were staring at him. specifically, his eyes. "ah shit—!" satoru desperately searched for his glasses before you calmly handed them to him. "you didn't see anything!" satoru huffs and crosses his arms, worried he's lost his first and only friends. the silence was deafening, more like, anxiety inducing for satoru—until you spoke.
"you're so pretty, 'toru!" you comment and smile. huh? did his crush just call him pretty? with a gasp from shoko and suguru simultaneously, they both leap and ask. "wait—do you actually have six eyes?" satoru's surprised at your interest, taking a step back.
"can we see?"
"that's fucking cool!"
"they look like baby eyes, awww, oh my god!"
"why didn't we notice this before??"
"wait . . . THAT'S WHY YOUVE BEEN SO BITCHY OVER YOUR STUPID SUNGLASSES?" suguru shouts, his eye twitching as he recalls all of satoru's bitchiness over touching his glasses. "huh? yea . . . wait—y'all aren't weirded out?" you frown. "no?" you sound offended as you answer. "they look fucking cool, move your hair." you stand up and smile, pushing up his fluffy pale hair to see his whole face. "you're so pretty . . . " you mumble, locking eyes with his big set and smile.
ever since then, gojo's been getting quite comfortable not hiding himself (utahime and nanami almost ruined it though). maybe even perhaps too comfortable?
when he finally snagged your heart, you'd go on dates and occasionally sleep in eachother's rooms. the bad thing about that, is satoru is a living nightlight. if he doesn't go to sleep before you, there's six blue beams shining either in your face—or the back of your head. its mostly to annoy you, but—sometimes he just likes looking at you. one thing he does do constantly to irritate you? is manipulate the way his eyes move.
once he gained full control . . . it was over. one thing he does, is frog blink. he mostly does it to catch you off gaurd or distract you. for example, if you're in an argument . . . he will purposefully make his eyes blink at different times to throw you off. and it works, a lot. sometimes you laugh, sometimes you just get really confused, but eitherway your reaction is funny and there's no longer an argument!
it is really adorable when he cries though. his little eyes close in cresents and under them are bright red. they make smaller tears that join up with the big tears . . . and awwww. it was even cuter when he was a baby! tears rolling down his chubby with that cute little baby pout.
don't even get me started if the two of you are able to have a biological child! if his baby has his six little blue eyes? he'll cry—for a multitude of reasons . . .
number one: they look just like they're daddy!
number two: they might have to face what they're daddy went through.
and number three: those six-eyes on a baby look so cute!
because of his upbringing, he will never—and i mean never, fail to shower his kid with love. on their first day of kindergarten he kissed every single eye like you did for him and sent them off with an "daddy love's you." even if non-sorcerers can't see it, when they gets older . . . others will be able to see them. so he drenches them in love, gives them tips to maintain each eye, tells them how to hide them if they really want to. he's literally such a great dad, you love him sm.
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bc ppl wanted more, i gave them more! tell me if you want more scenarios with six-eyes gojo or anything like that!
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elsweetheart · 1 year
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want to be abbys passenger seat princess so bad. just sitting pretty next to her? feeding her snacks and sharing kisses at the red light 😔
• “alright, buckle up.” but you look at her expectantly, almost with a ‘how dare you?’ expression and she remembers, leaning across you and buckling you in. she shakes her head. face close to yours as she does so with a little smirk and drops a kiss on your nose before turning back to her seat and putting on her own seatbelt.
• you opened up the bag of chips as she drove, munching on the snack and every so often abby would silently hold her hand out, waiting for you to place one in her palm. occasionally you’d go the extra mile and pop one in her mouth.
• she lets you pick the music because she thinks it’s cute when you sing along to all your favourite songs, stealing glances at you when she can.
• she usually rests her hand on your thigh, gripping the meat of it fondly and rubbing her thumb along it. she has to be careful how grabby she gets though, as it could end in you whining and trying to push your hand further up your skirt.
• “these people can’t fucking drive.” she sighs under her breath, manoeuvring her vehicle around the car causing problems. to reward herself, once she’s in the clear she’ll glance at you and demand “kiss.” which you always deliver.
• if it’s a long road trip, she sometimes can’t help herself — ordering you into the back of her car so she can have you whimpering in her lap with her fingers buried inside you, parked up somewhere discreet. “my pretty passenger seat princess, doin’ such a good job for me just sitting there being a good girl whilst i drive.” she’d murmur against your cheekbone as her fingers circle your clit. “had to bring you back here for a reward, huh? s’only fair.”
• for some reason, i can’t see her getting super angry and road ragey, she’d just sigh and send them judging looks and make bitchy little comments about them to you.
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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months
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prev
———
“See! There it is again! It is going to attack us, we must act immediately!”
Keith wonders how badly it will make everything worse if he feigns a heart attack. He thinks he could be pretty convincing.
“Animals make noises,” Keith says tiredly. “The roars are not getting any closer. How did the previous attacks go? Was there some sort of roar-increase?”
The dignitary hesitates. “Well, no. The first time it happened the beast seemed startled, and then it was angry.”
“Shocking, that,” Lance says, and this time no one fights him.
The longer this debate has been going on, the clearer and clever it has become that Lance was correct.
Before they decided to go after the beast, the team decided it would be best to get as much information from the dignitary, security team, and royal family of the planet as possible. They expected it would take maybe half a varga to go over a couple reports, make a plan, and go after the beast – and hopefully manage to subdue it rather than kill it, to solve the problem on as many fronts and please as many people as possible.
Of course, because the universe finds their endless struggle amusing, it did not go that way. Instead, they’ve been here for the past four vargas at least, trying to get as much information as possible from the scattered reports and eye-witness accounts they could gather, all while half-watching Lance in tense silence (who, to be fair, has mostly stayed in one place and ignored everyone except for making the occasional bitchy comment).
They are getting nowhere.
It turns out the royal family and many community leaders are not nearly as fond as the dignitary and the soldiers of killing the beast. No one can agree on anything, not a plan of attack, not a plan to avoid attack, nothing. Keith has been listening to the same circular arguments ever since he got here, and as the not-black-paladin, he’s expected to contribute, so he has to pay attention. And usually that’s tolerable – it’s not the first time he’s expected to participate in a meeting that has gone on forever and done nothing productive, nor will it be the last – because he’s got Lance next to him, with a running commentary and joke stream that makes the whole thing easier to bear, along with a steady hand on his arm when he gets mad and often even a solution to wrap the whole thing up.
But, obviously, Lance is furious with him and everyone, right now, and is sitting as far away from Keith as he can manage, doodling on his holopad.
It’s miserable.
“I simply feel like there are more options that we should consider,” someone says diplomatically. Since that is literally the ninth time that exact sentence in that exact tone has been said in this meeting, Keith does not get his hopes up. He’s honestly half prepared to die and be buried in this stupid meeting room.
As the room descends into arguing once again, with absolutely zero new conclusions or changes, Keith finally gives up on paying any further attention. There’s nothing he’s missing, there’s nothing he’s contributing, and, he will admit it, doing meetings without Lance on his team is genuinely more than he can handle. He has no idea when he reached this level of codependency – because he can distinctly recall a point in time where doing meetings with Lance so much as in the same room would have them at each other’s throats in seconds – but he is in no place to handle it now. He lets himself drift, staring out the window across the table from him and deliberately thinking of anything except the flash of hurt in Lance’s eyes before it settled into fury, last night during the call.
As he observes the pretty scenery in front of him, rolling hills of yellow grass and an off-blue sky, he notices something strange along the backdrop of a pretty countryside. Along the edge of the far-off forest, there is a dark spot, out of place from its surroundings. He squints his eyes, leaning forward to try and figure out what it is. His posture piques the curiosity of the others at the table, and soon everyone is looking at the spot, watching with growing concern as it seems to get bigger, significantly bigger, and starts even to take shape.
“It has come again,” the dignitary says, hushed. They have genuine fear reflected in their eyes, which softens Keith slightly towards them. Maybe they aren’t just being a stubborn dick.
It takes a second to process, but soon the room descends into chaos, because for all that they have been discussing for hours, no plans have been made. Time is up, though. The beast as come to them, and now they must plan on the fly.
“Ready the guards,” says the queen. “Be vigilant and prepared. I would have appreciated more time, but there is none. We must be prepared to protect ourselves and our people. Last time we managed to scare it off with –”
“Wait!” Pidge shouts, the only one still sitting and facing the window. There is command in her voice, the likes Keith rarely hears from her, and her fingers twitch like they do when she’s calculating something in her head, solving a problem none of them even considered. “Nobody move!”
All the gathered officials in the room stand in tense silence, half watching Pidge and half watching the rapidly approaching beast. As it gets closer, it becomes apparent that it’s not approaching on its own. The beast, which Keith can now see resembles a truly gigantic bear, has a carefully bandaged leg, more than is capable for an animal, and is guided forward but someone sitting on its back, tiny in comparison to its head but visibly determined from even this distance.
“I knew it!” Pidge crows, springing up from her seat and pointing at Lance with manic glee in her eyes. “I fucking knew it! Your posture is way too good!”
Lance stares at her for several moments, eyebrow raised, and then sighs. Keith watches with a dropped jaw as he grows several inches taller, as his hair gets redder and his face gets bushier, until Coran sits in the place where Lance just was.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Shiro mutters, dragging his hand down his face. “I’m going back to the astral plane.”
Coran shrugs. “Lance’s plan simply had more research and direction. Also, I’ve not been out on a mission in too long. I will admit that played a role in my decision.”
“Well, Jesus, Coran, do you think we maybe could have –”
“Hey, guys, not to interrupt, but the giant beast is getting closer, people are aiming fire at it, and my dumbass best friend is currently riding on its back, so,” Hunk says. “Can we maybe worry about that first?”
The seriousness of the situation hits them all pretty quickly, and they adjust their attitudes accordingly. Lance is approaching faster by the second, no longer a shadow in the distance but a distinct figure, waving his hands like a dumbass and either completely oblivious or completely apathetic to the myriad of weapons, poised to fire, pointed in his direction by a horde of soldiers. The team rush outside with the rest of the officials, calling out for people to hold their fire, although it doesn’t do much, and the great beast swerves several times to avoid getting blasted.
“Stop! Stop! Don’t shoot! That’s a paladin!”
“Fire away!” the dignitary shouts over them, fury lighting their features and stubborn set to their jaw. “The insolence of their paladin does not negate the risk the beast poses!”
The paladins and the dignitary, along with several others on their side, glare at each other. The team may not approve of Lance’s methods, and there will be some serious discussion later, but that doesn’t change the fact that their fucking friend is out there being shot at, and they’re not going to stand back and let it happen.
“I swear, if you hurt him –”
“If he wasn’t trying to be hurt he shouldn’t have –”
“Hold on!” Lance shouts, finally close enough to hear. “Everyone – cool it for a sec! Hold on!”
———
next
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Miami Vice S1E18: Made for Each Other
Larry's house burns down, and Izzy and Noogie are sent undercover.
Made for Each Other suffers immensely from coming right after The Maze, which is a true "the system is broken" classic Vice episode. Made for Each Other is a comedy breather, and actually kind of great in its own right, but where it sits in the progression of the series feels more like a deflation than a break.
Made for Each Other is also almost comically homoerotic-- it's the episode that convinced me that Sonny is supposed to be a textually closeted bisexual man on my first watch through of the series, but on a repeat watch it's somehow even more obvious. Why are there all those half-naked bears on a boat? Why is the entire plot basically "Stan and Larry sort of have a breakup because of Stan's new girlfriend and then get back together at the end?" Why does Izzy keep saying things like nubile and anal? Why does the camera linger so very long on his and Noogie's cigarillos touching? What's up with the repetition of 'shafted'? Why are all the guests at Noogie's wedding like, extras from a Boy George video?
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Why does this happen?
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(plz draw your OT3 like this)
Anyway I actually really like Made For Each Other upon rewatch, it really just should have been placed elsewhere in the season. It's a fun, silly episode, and a little levity is necessary in a series that is often so very bleak.
The episode opens with Sonny and Rico trying to catch a counterfeiter, and Rico is bitchy and condescending to Sonny in a way that I think is supposed to be "ha ha, my criminal persona is a dick," but actually just comes off as "ha ha, I am a dick." It seems like he's trying to impress the counterfeiter by throwing Sonny under the bus. This occasional cruelty towards someone he does genuinely like is a fascinating part of Rico's characterization, and part of what elevates his character writing to "actual nuanced person" and not "nice Black sidekick who always supports the main white guy." Rico absolutely sees himself as more educated and worldly than Sonny, and occasionally he lets that slip. He has a very complicated relationship to both class and geography-- he's a New Yorker (...from the Bronx), he wears a perfectly tailored suit everyday (...and is a poorly paid cop), he idolizes Sonny for his football career but also thinks he's a bit of a yokel. As someone whose own class status is a bit shaky, Rico tends to get a little mean when it seems like he might be 'found out.'
Zito almost gets blown up in the ensuing warehouse fire, and Switek flips out. A short while later, a surprisingly chill Zito says he believes things are "either in whack or out of whack," shortly after while they discover that his entire house is on fire.
Please note the company that moves Zito's stuff to Switek's house:
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I am dying
Trudy and Gina, in their only real appearance in the episode, very sweetly present Zito with a new fish as an office gift. Sonny is a dick about it.
Swi and Zito go to investigate BONZO BARRY who is a shady stereo and computer system dealer who has a FUCKING SEAL in his store
Michael Talbott is wildly overacting this entire episode, like to the point that I wonder if they had to turn down his mic
Noogie is marrying a stripper(?) named Ample Annie. They argue about going to Disneyland while she's practicing her routine. She does a striptease down the aisle. She is perhaps the only person bonkers enough to keep up with Noogie.
Stan's girlfriend, Darlene (who was Larry's girlfriend a short period of time ago), is extremely unhappy with Larry staying at their house, and spends the entire episode either complaining or being upset that the conditions are not right to bone; frankly, Stan does not seem to like her and she does not seem to like Stan. The most likely reasoning behind this is "bad 80's hurr hurr the ol' ball and chain" comedy, but considering the homoeroticism of the episode I'd like to think it could be a comment on compulsory heterosexuality
Izzy and Noogie show up at Stan's and, in one ridiculous whirlwind, declare the current case "theirs," ask who is the "Captain Kirk of this Enterprise," and start eating Stan's breakfast
In one scene Tubbs asks Zito and Swi if they want backup and they both very loudly yell NO like he's the reason everything has been on fire in this episode
Switek asks Zito at one point, "do you ever think about the future, Larry?" and Zito answers No.
This is funny the first time you watch the episode!
This is not funny anymore after Season 3.
The bad guy (whose crime seems to be like. Selling stolen stereos or something equally stupid) has a boat full of half-naked men with guns. This is not remarked upon.
Then we get to the Night Talk scene. I've talked at length about this scene before, but basically: Zito has been kicked out of Switek's and is sleeping at the station; Sonny comes in, romantic music plays, Zito basically describes Switek as the perfect man, and Sonny tries to get Zito to come back to his place (and fails.) It's very gay. I like to think that Sonny has a burgeoning crush on Rico at this point but is certain Rico is straight (and also. Y'know. Was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the episode.) and takes desperate, tragic shot on Zito because of that. Zito politely declines because his heart is already spoken for.
Meanwhile, Stan is unable to perform sexually because he's thinking about Larry.
I'm sure that means nothing.
The outfits at Noogie's wedding are just. They are. Truly they are something.
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The priest is a leather daddy. Many people appear to be in space blankets, including Noogie. Annie has a tearaway wedding dress. The pianist has the world's most incredible zebra shirt. There are headbands and weird hats abound.
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By contrast, all the members of Vice look like they're supposed to be at a PTA meeting. (Also Sonny looks like he wishes he could ask where the punch is but doesn't want to bother Gina and Trudy, who are clearly each others' plus-ones.)
And the episode ends with Switek and Zito, side by side, at a wedding.
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totally-bogus-timelady · 11 months
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Nice Uniform
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A/N So this is just a little thing that I whacked out to try and get the metaphorical cogs turning. As usual I would love to hear what you guys think and reblogs are always appreciated! No smut in this one but my blog/work is always 18+.
“Nice uniform.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“What? I mean it, it’s a very nice uniform...” 
You snicker as Steve stands there, glaring at you, arms crossed in that perfect scolding mother stance of his.
“You know what, for that comment, you can walk to school tomorrow,” he sends a triumphant smirk your way as you scoff at him.
“Ugh, you are so bitchy Steve. What’s the matter? Those shorts getting your panties in a twist or something?” You continue to cackle as he throws his arms up, exasperated and turns to walk away in defeat. You jog to catch up with him as he makes his way through the mall.
Steve had stopped by the exercise class you’d just finished on his way to work, a cup of coffee for you in his hand and grimace plastered on his face as if preparing himself for your reaction to his appearance.
“Hey, Steve! Come on, I was just kidding.” 
Steve turns back to you and huffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in annoyance. His eyes look past yours, a faint blush tinging his cheeks pink before he then focuses on your face. You look him up and down with a small smile, all traces of teasing gone.
“It’s really not that bad,” you try to comfort him.
He scoffs and gives you a look as if to say ‘seriously.’ 
“Are you kidding me? I mean, come on! How am I supposed to find a girlfriend wearing this stupid thing,” he gestures down at his sailor shirt and tiny shorts that are somehow still flattering on him, accentuating his slim waist. Your eyes linger a little longer than you’d care to admit and you quickly flit your eyes back up before Steve catches you ogling. 
Your best friend is attractive, there’s no two ways about that, with his luscious, thick brown hair, his doe like hazel eyes and that beautifully dumbstruck expression where his lips part as he gawps, cluelessly. 
You’d always viewed Steve as nothing more than a friend but occasionally your mind would wander, like last week when you’d realized that your stare was directed at his ass, him in his tight blue jeans as he’d bent over to get something from the trunk of his car.
You’d drawn it up to sexual frustration. At the end of the day you were a woman with needs and Steve was quickly becoming more and more of an attractive man. 
Not that you would ever act on it. You were merely just indulging occasionally in a small fantasy or appreciating the lovely view he would often provide...
“Steve, trust me, you have nothing to worry about. Yeah, the outfits stupid! But if anyone could still make something as stupid as this look attractive, it would be you!” You shoot a genuine smile at him as his cocky little smirk slowly starts to return to his pretty face.
“You really think I have nothing to worry about?” He asks, still a little timid.
“Really,” Steve still looks at you skeptically. “Oh, what do you want, a list? Alright, the blue actually complements your eyes pretty well, its somehow a very slimming outfit and the shorts make your ass look great, okay!”
Steve smirks triumphantly at you.
“I knew it!” He points his finger at you, waggling it in your face accusingly, smug grin plastered across his own. You gaze at him, brows furrowed, confused expression taking over.
“I knew you were looking at my ass!” You took on a very convincing impression of a fish, your mouth opening and closing in disbelief. “Last week when I was getting those VHS tapes out of the car and a few days ago when you couldn’t reach that book in the store, so you got me to reach up and get it for you! And yesterday, when I leaned over the bonnet to fix my wiper blade... You’ve been looking at my ass!” Steve, his face filled with pure glee at having caught you out, crosses his arms and smirks.
You stammer, looking for some kind of coherent response. “I, I- no I haven’t been- Why would I be looking at your- I wasn't looking at your ass...”
“Oh come on! I’ve caught you, you were looking at it.”
Steve shuffles slightly closer to you and moves his hand up to brush a strand of your hair out of your face. You desperately willed your blush to go away before Steve found anything else to tease you about.
“It’s okay you know, I’d have a hard time concentrating if the package was this pretty too.”
“Oh shut up,” You shove at his shoulder. A small smile starts to make an appearance on your face and Steve laughs. “Stop using me to boost your ego Harrington. Alright, I will admit that on occasion I may have noticed your ass out of the corner of my eye and haven’t been completely disgusted by it, but that does not mean I have been gazing longingly at you. You’re still my weird best friend, who I once caught shaving his chest hair with my pink lady razor!”
Steve’s laughing comes to a sudden stop and his wicked grin falls.
“You promised me that we’d never speak of that again!”
“Well it’s your own fault for teasing me!”
“You were the one who was staring at my ass!”
“You’re the one who’s wearing the stupid sailor costume, with the tiny shorts!”
“Oh, they’re tiny shorts now are they? When did you notice that? When you were looking at my ass!”
“Okay, shut up!” You finally put a stop to the incessant bickering. “I’m calling a truce! I’ll stop talking about the pink lady razor and the stupid uniform if you stop talking about me occasionally looking at your ass.”
Steve looks at you skeptically, deciding whether to take your offer. 
“Okay, truce.”
“Okay,” You both start walking towards Steve’s new place of work, “So, you wanna tell me about your new job?”
Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Eh, it’s nothing special. Ice cream is ice cream at the end of the day.”
“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s good that you’re doing something for yoursel-”
“You know I look at yours too right?” Steve asks. You gawp at him confused.
“What?”
“Your ass... I sometimes look, y’know, when you're... I don’t know, but I do. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel weird about it ‘cause I do it too sometimes. So... yeah.”
You blush for what feels like the hundredth time that morning, absorbing the information Steve has just given you.
“Oh,” You let out rather pathetically and realize that you should probably follow it up with something more informative. “Yeah, no... that’s... yeah that’s normal right? I mean, we’re best friends and we spend a lot of time together so it’s... no big deal right? It doesn’t mean anything.”
Steve continues to look ahead of him, purposely not looking in your direction out of fear that he might embarrass himself further.
“Exactly, no big deal. It’s just something that people do.”
“Yeah.”
“Glad we cleared that up,” Steve looks at you now and you both let out a slightly awkward chuckle.
Steve’s cheeks glow with embarrassment, a timid smile lifting the corners of his lips and his eyes do that thing were they go all wide and glazy. You decide to break the tension.
“Hey, race you to Scoops?” A cheesy grin takes over your face as you nudge him in the ribs.
“Wha- Hey!” You shove him and take off running into the distance.
Steve chases after you and being the athlete that he is, eventually overtakes you. he looks back at you, still running and sends you a cheeky wink. You huff at his behavior and start to slow down.
In the few seconds that Steve wasn’t looking where he was going, he fails to see the musical horse ride in the middle of the mall. Steve runs straight into it and trips. He’s sprawled, quite pathetically, hanging over the ride. His ass is in the air, lean legs on display in his small, dark blue shorts. His face is completely obscured from view.
You slowly walk up to him, now trying to suppress your chuckling as you send a slap to his ass. 
“Guess I win either way then, huh Harrington. Well I’ve made my decision.”
A pathetic sounding “What?” comes from the other side of the horse. You walk round to the other side and crouch down so that you’re face to face with Steve. His hazel eyes gaze cluelessly into yours.
Brushing a bit of his mane out of his face you smile and say to him,
“The uniform’s not so bad.”
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olderthannetfic · 1 year
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"One cultural shift I would love to see in fandom is for readers, as a group, to worry more about offending authors" I agree. When I started writing "con-crite" was the norm. I'm happier as a writer now that it's not because advice or a critique from a one-off random reader doesn't mean as much as the friends or betas I may have worked through the story with.
But this literally happened this week. Got a comment on fic that was written immediately after the season 2 finale of my show. It fell in line with everything that we were shown in canon up until that point. (they proceeded to completely muck it up in season 3 and ignore everything previously established) It was a 10k one shot, and in the midst the characters had a very introspective moment that went on to shape the rest of the fic and explain the decisions made and some commenter shows up 5 years later with starbucks telling me I'm wrong. How this is incorrect characterization.
I replied with cited sources from the episodes, and how this was written years ago. and maybe a touch of bitchiness when I quoted from the introspective bit of the fic and asked if that cleared the decisions up for them. Received a reply that I was acting like an immature whiny teenager who didn't get her way and was told that my behavior was rude. Unbelievable that this commenter saw nothing wrong with their own behavior that started the whole thing.
For the most part, I have had wonderful commenters, only the occasional odd duck. But it's very freeing to say something back like "what a rude comment to make to a stranger"
--
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ecoamerica · 22 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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faussila · 1 year
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Don't you Want Me, Baby?
PART ONE
Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Somewhere in the middle of high school chaos, you have managed to lead a peaceful existence. When a new boy arrives in Hawkins, life in general and the relationship between you and your best friend, Eddie, are thrown off balance. The stranger is obnoxious, and aggressive, and demands all the attention. Your attempts to ignore him soon prove to be unsuccessful.
Warnings: 16+, mild bullying, mentions of alcohol, smoking and drugs…
The mornings are still filled with summer when the first day of school arrives.
Although life has been so enjoyable during the break, you feel quite energized to start your senior year. Only one more year left before life will take a whole new turn. It’s nice to think about what will be next, but for now, Hawkins is, and always has been, your place of comfort. You know almost every single person in this town. While that doesn’t mean you particularly like all of them, they are familiar and mostly harmless. You always found it more important to focus on your friends and those who bring good energy to your life. You tend to stay away from negativity and the classic theatre of egos that takes place at school. It doesn’t take much to be an outcast in such a small town. Occasionally you are blessed with a bitchy comment or a disapproving look from Carol and her entourage since you don’t dress nor act according to their standards. Your worn-out leather jacket turns their glitter-filled stomachs every time they lay eyes on it. But somehow their disdain has been a source of fulfillment rather than one of distress.
Just as you are finishing your make-up, the doorbell rings. You hear your mother pushing back her chair loudly on the wooden floor. A few moments later, she calls your name: ‘Y/N!!! EDDIE’S HERE!!!’, “COMING!” You shout back, but footsteps are already running wildly up the stairs. Your door flies open and Eddie storms in. “Goodmorning sunshine!” He blurts out. Without flinching, you are perfecting your lipstick. “Goodmorning Eddie.” You look at him through the mirror as he flops down on your unmade bed.
“I’ve never seen you so excited for school.” You remark quite dryly. Just to mess with him.
“I’m not excited… BUT it is our last year. Finally, we can see the finish line. Finally, the idea of freedom is in sight.”
You laugh at his dramatic speech.
“What? Doesn’t that sound good to you, (y/n)? Doesn’t that sound just SO. DAMN. GOOD?” He exclaims as he lets himself fall back on your bed in a theatrical way that is so typically Eddie.
“Well, yeah, it does Eddie, but maybe before you get too crazy about it, let’s try to pass some classes this year, yeah?” You say as you stand up, and you throw a pillow at his head.
“You’re no fun, are you?” He whines as he fails to dodge the pillow.
Minutes later, you’re running down the stairs and out the door. “Bye Mom. Love you!” You shout into the living room as you speed past it. You can vaguely hear her shout something back at you when you’re closing the door behind you.
As you are driving to school in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van, he talks about Hellfire, and some new songs he learned on his guitar. You’re often more of a listener. Which is nice, since Eddie is more of a talker. You have a good balance. People often think you guys are dating, and however, there’s sometimes some unspoken tension happening on late-night smoking sessions, neither of you has ever acted on it. You don’t know how you’d react if Eddie ever tried such a thing. Whatever happens, happens, you tend to say to yourself.
But, in the meantime, your love life isn’t particularly booming anyway. About a year ago, you had a summer fling going on for a few weeks. He showed an interest in you at a party just at the end of the school year. Things happened and then they ended. His name was Marcus. He was pretty, in a way only 16-year-old boys can be, but apparently totally uninteresting. He smelled of his mother's washing detergent and mostly talked about things that he thought a girl would find entertaining. Likewise, he tried too hard in all the wrong ways, and never noticed your true emotions. He was too busy trying to be good and to be having a good time. Which was also reflected in your more intimate moments. There was tenderness, but it felt quite silly sometimes.
Last school year, you had made out drunkenly with a boy called Scott at Steve Harrington's home party. Scott was on the basketball team. Your average jock with a red-cheeked baby face and divorced parents. You did it because you were kind of pissed that Eddie left you alone at the party to get in the closet with some girl. This kind of emotion only came out when too much booze was involved. It's not so much jealousy. It's more like your head is making up reasons to be bothered.
You are startled out of your thoughts by a loud vehicle whizzing past the van on the long lane leading to Hawkins High School. Despite the speed, you could catch a glimpse of the driver of the car. It was a face you had never seen before. It was a young man of your own age, looking ahead with menacing eyes, as if he was sunk in angry thoughts.
 "Jesus," Eddie said, already sighing, "and still they call me the freak!"
 You chuckled. "It seems someone has finally come to take your place."
 "What do you mean?"
"The driver... I've never seen him before."
 "So you think you know everyone?”
"Eddie... I've lived here all my life. I'm sure I know everyone."
 "Well," he says, suddenly pressing the accelerator harder, "it's about time for someone to shake things up a bit. It's exhausting having all that weight on my shoulders."
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ggomos-maribat · 2 years
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[27/?]
BDBWM Day 7 | Take Your Kid to Work
original prompt | complete masterlist
Set at the time Marinette is living with the Waynes
Inari jolts when she hears that Batman will be coming over for a JL meeting—pieces of popcorn fall from her bucket and she desperately tries to clean it all up. She’s been hanging around the HQ whenever she wants a break from the chaotic manor, occasionally giving her opinions on matters whenever the other members ask for her advice. 
“Auntie Di! You didn’t say he was coming!” She whines, picking the popcorn that wedged into the couch. 
“It’s a meeting for all members, dear. Of course he’s coming.” 
“Gah, I wouldn’t have come if I knew!” One of her fox ears twitches. 
“We’re still up for that round of UMS later, right Mars?”
“Yeah, sure Uncle Bars.” 
“Are you going to stay here?” Wonder Woman asks. 
“I might as well stay.” She flicks away stray kernels. “It’s like ‘take your kid to work’ day but he doesn’t know it.” 
Inari casts her invisibility, bolts off to a corner near the meeting table and hides just in time Batman enters the room. 
Inari stands and listens to the meeting patiently, afraid that if she makes a move or a sound, she can get caught. Of course, she trusts the JL to keep the secret from her Dad and family, but she feels like she has to keep an eye on them this time. 
“About the Parisian heroes,” says Batman in the middle of their meeting, “I think we need to be more hands-on in dealing with the recovery of Paris and investigating the guardians.” 
“What a stupid-ass decision,” Inari mumbles under her breath. 
Superman suddenly chokes out a half-laugh. Inari pales at the same time, forgetting that her Uncle C can hear her. 
“Are you alright?” Aquaman asks. 
“Yes. Continue please.” 
“I thought we already had an agreement with Ladybug not to interfere with the Miraculouses and Paris,” Wonder Woman says. 
Damn right, Auntie Di. Inari nods.
Inari internally curses when she sees the message on her staff. Her Uncle Art just gave her an interesting offer and she can’t resist. Keeping her illusion on, she creeps towards the table, takes one of her Uncle Ollie’s arrows and sneaks up towards Batman’s seat. 
She carefully pins the arrow on the floor, trapping the base of his cape to the floor. 
Finally, as she inches away and records the whole thing, the JL concludes their meeting. Batman tries to stand up but gets pulled down because of the arrow. The others mask their snickers. 
“Oliver!” He growls. 
Green Arrow raises his arms up defensively. “I was here the whole time.” 
Taglist:
@maribat-bdbwm@tinybrie @sinoffalsejudgement @its-maemain @kamarallil @toughluna @golden-promises @whatamoodhoney @trippingovermyfeet @m4ster0fnone @alexizlazy @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @maybeanalien0-0 @imchaotic-dontmindme @ev-cupcake @flowers-n-fandoms @crusherccme @ji-nk-ies @depressed-bitchy-demon @duskyashe @multplelifes @authorpendragging@iloontjeboontje@thatonecroc@user00000003@paradoxaloccurance@kking13@laydeekrayzee@chaos-inperson@astol07@the-coffee-fandom@nerd-nowandforever@nightmarewasteland@certainmuffinbagelcalzone@the-hospitality-of-knives@stainedglassm@talia-scar123@trying414@starling218
*if you want to be tagged, feel free to ask in the comments and I'll add you to the taglist :)
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outtoshatter · 6 months
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20 Questions for fic Writers!
finally getting to the tag games i've been forgetting! thanks for the tag @sugareey-makes-stuff this looks so cute and fun!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Just 93....for now! I have a secret little goal to hit 100 before the end of the year but realistically that probably won't happen.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
1,864,258! I'd like to hit 2mil eventually :D
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Just Teen Wolf for now! Although I've been trying to get myself to be inspired by others, it's just not happening. Although i finally finished watching Superstore the other day and intensely plotted out a fic that would fill in some missing stuff that was bugging me. but I likely won't do that lmao
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Haaa Son of the Sheriff [Teen Wolf, G, 3k words] Nature of the Beast [Teen Wolf, M, 56k] No Mercy [Teen Wolf, M, 64k] Love Don't Lie [Teen Wolf, T, 2k] Ride with me [Teen Wolf, T, 4k]
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! almost always. sometimes I don't know what to say but I try to respond anyway. I didn't before, at first because when I joined ao3 the authors' whose works I commented on didn't respond so I just thought that was the culture, and then occasionally now because I'm just...very drained from pulling the story out of my head. MOSTLY though I genuinely love talking about my stories with people, especially when they have questions about my worlds; I put a ton of thought and care into my worlds and LOVE when people are interested!
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Ah...hmm. I don't know! i always aim for happy endings, they bring me the most joy in writing. Uhhh maybe Pulling Strings? It's more open than angsty, buuuut it is less outright happy than my other fics!
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
HAPPIEST. That's so hard!! Because see above, all happy endings. I'll say an even tie between The Next Chapter and Fractured Starlight, just going by most recently picked fics!
8. Do you get hate on fics?
klfjsalkfslka I don't know that i'd call it outright hate. but i've gotten some WILD comments before. That were unquestionably FUCKING rude. But i don't know if it counts as hate. I have an entire folder i have named Hall of Shame of some of the worst offenders. It's gotten less bad now that I've archive locked all my fics, which made it so much more fun to post. I think the worst was either the several-paragraphs long, two part comment about how the reader was disappointed in me (??) and just a bunch of other rudeness, OR the person who, after I deleted their comment that pissed me off, pasted their comment back in with a bitchy little addition to let me know they felt entitled to leaving rude stuff on my fic. so i deleted it again c:
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I don't write a lot of it! Definitely not PWP. Just emotion-focused sex scenes if it happens and works for the rest of my plot! it's just not as fun as action scenes for me most of the time c:
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
Nope!
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I'm hesitant to call it stolen but someone did ask me permission to translate my fic, and I granted it, but they did not link me to it, or even post it on ao3, which bothered me. but i found it. and. they had translated it, sure, but they'd also changed it from a sterek fic....to a Derek x Peter fic. which was. a weird thing to do. that was not what we had agreed upon so i just messaged them mainly asking like. for why.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
LOL. Yes! 4 on ao3, and two out there...on other sites. that was annoying D< I am flattered people wanted to translate my fics! I now have a blanket statement on my profile for this sort of thing, including that I want translations only on ao3, and not posted elsewhere because of...well. #11 lol
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No :c I'd like to try! But i have so many to-write fics!! I have some vague plans for a fic with @dappledawndrawn but like. my list. it's so long. (Also add in my fears that I'd be overbearing or something and i will procrastinate this forever.)
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
I'd have to say sterek lmaooo. I have others I like and even love a whole lot I just haven't become obsessed with finding out how to fit those other ships in a whole bunch of other worlds like I have with sterek. Maybe one day! Mostly they're book ships hahaha
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Oh man. ;-; the third of my fairy tale series. I started it like 3 times but could never get it right! i had it all planned out and everything it just would not work. So annoying.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Worldbuilding for sure. Plotting, foreshadowing. Building the tale itself i guess? And action oh man am I obsessed with writing action and I am good at it. I love building worlds, blowing things up, and telling the tale of why, taking the reader on the twisty, interesting, exciting journey to the satisfying conclusion.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Personally, I think I need to work on my descriptions of characters, and tbh I have trouble writing emotional scenes! I'm working on it though.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I've done it before! Looking back, I was annoyed at myself xD I mostly now stick to just writing it as regular dialogue, then "-in [x language]" afterward. I don't have anything against it I suppose, but usually it's not really important to the plot to have a single line in a different language than the rest of the fic (special cases happen) so I just don't hahaha
19. First fandom you wrote for?
e.e This question always happens on these things lkfdsalkfjdskaf SIIIGH it was Maximum Ride. c,:
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
I am ever proud of Are You Ready? it's my baby, my love, I am so so proud of it and how my writing improved just trying to do justice to that story. So.
Thanks for the tag! Tagging @raisesomehale @rosieposiepuddingnpie @2dents @cephalog0d @halevetica @tkwritesdumbassassins @evanesdust and anyone else who might want to play who i didn't tag lfkjdslakjfs sorry
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transingthoseformers · 6 months
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Dominus is just out there having a blast tormenting them because he knows what happened, but they don't know he knows what happened and are worried about what happens if they slip up.
Especially given that Dominus is now Megatron's brother-in-law.
Just them nervously sweating while Dominus smiles politely, cackling inside and drinks his juice. His new favorite hobby is to hint at his knowledge, and then he makes a show of coming out with his real alt-mode to them since they've let "bygones be bygones." Helex is the one who finally breaks as Dominus has been hinting and then covering up his innocent comments about whether he knows and essentially playing with them emotionally like a fox with a mouse.
They have a nasty emotional blow up in which a lot of betrayed emotions are aired, Kaon cries, and Dominus says he thinks a few weeks of torment are a small price to pay given they domesticated him. They do look ashamed, and Dominus mentions that he understands them keeping him alive came from high emotions, and he does prefer being alive but that he wants an apology. Kaon snips that he wants an apology for 1 million years of being lied to "you cog sucking Autobot bastard." Dominus says point and formally apologizes for lying to them and abusing their trust and friendships, which throws them. They, by route , have been carefully threatened into good behavior, accept it, and they actually relax.
Dominus may or may not have a few Vos tendencies left over and occasionally goes to complain about Autobots or this or that Decepticon with them and Rewind reluctantly accepts their friendship while Chromedome points out he doesn't really have a leg to stand on and neevously hopes no one remembers him from the New Institute.
They like how bitchy a more chatty Vos I/Dominus is and Tarn finally has someone with "the music taste of an A Series" (Vos II's words) to bond with.
(They are aware, and Dominus has thoroughly threatened them with worse than threats of life. He has so much embarrassing blackmail.)
Also, interestingly he ends up being DJD translator for bots they are pursuing or, eventually for Vos/Bluestreak and Getaway/Kaon, pursuing them.
Yesss
Dominus is having 🎶the time of his life🎶 and the DJD just. Aren't lol.
Oooo on the absolute blowout, yeah Dominus is using this as very much revenge
oh kaonnnn, yes there's so many emotions around this
Oo on Doms still having some holdovers from being Vos and Domey is just sitting there shaking slightly like a geriatric chihuahua not wanting to talk about all the shit he's done
SO MUCH EMBARRASSING BLACKMAIL YESSS
hmm cool on him being the djd to non-djd translator
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judgeverse · 6 months
Text
thanks @bagheerita for the tag!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
91 for my SG pseud, 104 total
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
665,899. 276,600 of which were in 2023. lol
3. What fandoms do you write for?
stargate baby!!! specifically, stargate universe. occasionally also sg1.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
it's all old mortal kombat fic; the top two have 323 and 199 respectively (and the #1 is so successful because the ship got big after the latest MK game; given that I'd essentially made it up at the time of writing, I got lucky lmao). the others are double digit kudos :/
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
ALWAYS, at least for stargate fic. love to talk about the brainrot and make friends
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
probably this one, an installment of a rush/ba'al AU where ba'al dies for a while there. kind of a way to deal with grief about cliff simon too. hurts sometimes
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I don't think I have any that are legitimately happy endings and not bittersweet, but probably this one for SGU week, in which the crew actually gets to go home (and rush eventually finally realizes they don't hate him)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
not yet lmao
9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?
yes, frequently. mostly rush/ba'al which is kind of my thing (and it's a trans rush AU, suggested by another nb sgu friend and it lodged in my brain and wouldnt let go). so that's pretty much all I write for the filth side of things now
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
not really. I figure if I'm putting in enough effort to cross something over and fuse the concepts, at that point I may as well write an original story instead (and often do)
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that I'm aware of
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
nope
13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
no but I'm down to do it!!!
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
rush/ba'al, their dynamic is [chefs kiss] and has made me write more this year than possibly EVER before (it kicked off my 2023 writing which is currently at about 418,000 words) so thanks boys
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
destiny ao3 au lmao where the crew all writes fic to pass the time. love it but other fics keep taking priority
16. What are your writing strengths?
DIALOGUE AND BANTER i could let them talk all day long and I usually do.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
generally speaking, anything that's action-driven with no dialogue. I always gotta let them talk. it's embarrassing how much dialogue my nsfw fics have
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I wouldn't tbh
19. First fandom you wrote for?
EVER ever? honestly not sure. current ao3 account? mortal kombat
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
this one's got it all - the SGU crew, goa'uld shenanigans, ba'al and rush being deliciously bitchy, just everything i write about is mixed together in this one lol
tagging @nonbinaryezrabridger @aintgonnatakethis @b2em-ho @galadhir @anomalousrobot @mx-seraph
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