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intoxicated-chan · 10 days

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ║ ❝𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡❞

(A/n) ➳ I’m back at writing! I thank those who gave me advice that helped me with my writer’s block. Hopefully I can keep a schedule and I thank those who waited! Thank you all!

Word Count ➳ 1.3k

Content Warnings ➳ Alcohol use, drug trafficking, mentions of baby trapping, swearing, mentions of toxic friend group dynamic, threats of violence...

JUDAS Masterlist

DARYL WAS PULLED IN A HUG WHILE ANOTHER MAN PATTED HIS BACK.

Andrea brought the glass of cheap liquor to her lips as she eyed Daryl conversing with the group of men. She wouldn’t say he was friendly with them but seemed to be coworkers of some kind.

“Are you seein’ this?” Andrea asked Amy who quickly agreed with her.

Amy pulled her phone up to take a photo. “(Y/n)’s gotta see this-”

Andrea snatched the phone out of her hands. “Jus’ cause he’s talkin’ to some guys doesn’t make it suspicious. You need hard evidence.”

“Like what?”

“Watch.”

Andrea kept her distance as she maneuvered past people, nearly getting a drink spilled on her when she was pushed by a dancing couple. She blended into the background as she came closer to Daryl and his friends.

She observed his interactions with the other patrons, noticing how he kept glancing around, as if he was expecting someone. He then leaned into a man, like a hug and passed something into his pocket and shook his hand.

She could only see them whispering to each other until Daryl turned around at hand gasping his shoulder.

It was Merle, he leaned in. “How much do you get this month?” He asked, taking the wad of cash from Daryl’s pocket.

“Less, cops been ‘round.” Daryl again looked around. “And one might be pokin’ their nose where it don’ belong.”

“I told you not to get involved with that woman.” Merle commented, counting the cash. “Look at you now.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Merle chuckled, putting the cash into his back pocket. “She ain’t gonna stay for you, tie ‘er down or somethin’. From the way you talk ‘bout her, she’d make a good mom.”

“Ya can’t-”

“Leah called again, need you for the next run.”

“Did ya not hear me?”

“The hell the cops gonna do? They got nothin’.” Merle laughed, ignoring Daryl. “The guy needs his money, some shit ‘bout his wife.” Rolling his eyes, he was annoyed, getting pushed to do more and more work while their boss gets most of their earnings.

“He needs ‘em now?”

Merle shrugged, coming to the bar and ordering a drink for them both. “Friday.” Two days from now. “You goin’ be meetin’ with her-”

Daryl waved him off, remembering the place. It wasn’t like he was the one bringing the shipment to her every time Merle was ordered to do it himself. Daryl walked to the bar, easily drowning the shot given to him.

He just needed to stick it out for a few more runs then he could be free. Free from his brother, free from this mess, he can finally go back to you without everything haunting his mind.

“Another.” He demanded. He wasn’t going to be able to make home sober tonight. He huffed, taking out his phone. He pressed on your contact, bring the phone to his ear as he took his shot. It rang a few times before you answered.

“Daryl? What is that sound?”

“At some bar.” He responded.

“Are you alright? You sound drunk- please don’t tell me you’re drunk.”

“I’ll be drunk soon, darlin’.”

He heard you sigh over the phone. “Send me your address, I’ll pick you up.”

“Yer too kind.” He chuckled.

“Jus’... Jus’ don’t drink too much.”

“Yeah.”

He threw his head back as he took the shot, groaning as the burning sensation went down his throat, clouding his mind as the more shots he took, the more the alcohol influenced him.

What Daryl remembered was slumped over the bar and then pushed into a car that smelled fresh. Your voice filled his mind as you spoke to him to keep him awake. God, the way you took care of him made him relax.

You sat in your recliner, legs crossed as you held a mug of coffee. You watched Daryl’s chest rise and fall, keeping close as it was becoming noon.

He had passed out the second he hit your couch, and you were too worried about him to sleep so you stayed awake.

Your phone had buzzed for the hundredth time for this day. It was a string of text messages coming from Shane, begging you to think twice about Daryl.

You were disappointed in Shane. You knew he was rash, but you didn’t think he’d react this way when he was rejected.

You have no idea what the hell you’re doing

You could hear him say it, repeatedly. It played like a song that you wanted out of your head. It was annoying, frustrating, and somewhat depressing.

“Ya should really block him.” Daryl’s hoarse voice made you snap your head up and see him awake. He rubbed his eyes as he grumbled. “That coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Hand it over.” He weakly demanded, it made you laugh and hand it over with ease.

“Glad to see you alive.” You got up, stretching your legs. “I was thinkin’ I might have to take you to the hospital with the number of shots you took.”

“That’s what work does to ya.” He responded, taking a large gulp of the coffee as he slowly sat up. “Still haven’t answered ma question.”

“Don’t worry about me, Dixon. I'll make some food for you.”

“No, sit down.”

“Daryl you’re hungover-”

“Sit.” He pushed your throw pillow on the ground, having you sit next to him. “Ya don’ block ‘im ‘cause yer worried, ain’t ya?”

“...I never seen him act like this before. Yes, I’m worried ‘bout him. He's texting me every minute!” You explained, feeling your chest tighten as your voice wavered. “Then Lori! And Rick! Who’s next? Carl?!”

“It’s ‘cause of me.”

“Please Daryl, it’s not you. It ain’t your fault.” You immediately reacted, grabbing his shoulders. “I jus’ realized that my place in that group wasn’t as a friend but a prop. They knew I didn’t have much around me and used it to their advantage. If I disagreed with someone then the rest turned against me. I'm better off with Amy, Andrea, and you.”

“Yer gonna regret it.”

“I can promise you now that I won’t.” You retorted. You then sighed, laying back. “Let’s stop talkin’ ‘bout this. I seriously need a smoke.”

“I got some in ma bag.” Daryl looked around, his eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t see around him.

“It’s in my car.” You replied, pushing yourself up to grab your shoes and keys. “Your brother was kind enough to get your ass in my car and bring your bike.”

“Merle?”

“Yeah, met him I pulled up. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Nah. It’s nothing.” You nodded and left, leaving Daryl sitting on the couch.

As he took another sip from the mug, Daryl’s phone rang. He glanced at his phone briefly but didn’t bother to check the caller ID as he flipped open his phone, assuming it was his brother.

“Merle.” Daryl answered, rather annoyed.

“Daryl, my man!” His voice boomed though the phone, all cocky and charming as usual. “How’s my favorite deliver boy doin’ today?”

The voice on the other end wasn’t Merle’s. It was Negan Smith. Daryl’s heart dropped as he recognized him.

His voice made Daryl’s stomach churn. If he remembered correctly, the delivery was for friday, tomorrow and any call from Negan was never good news.

“What do ya want, Negan?”

“There’s been a change of plans. We’ve got an emergency and I need the damn goods by midnight. Tonight.”

“We had a deal-!”

“Fuck the deal, Dixon.” Negan's tone shifted suddenly, becoming serious. “You’ve got until midnight. Don't make me come lookin’ for you. We all remember what happened last time you were late.”

With that, Negan hung up, leaving Daryl staring at his phone in disbelief. He threw his phone and held the scream he wanted to let out, but he held his head in his hands.

He had until midnight... Failure wasn’t an option.

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⊰ Chapter 7 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 9 ⊰

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kenny-the-ken · 1 year

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Stoned to the Bone

Just before I start I wanted to write a little disclaimer, in this fic everyone is aged up, they are all 18 and this fic is not suitable for minors!! There are mentions of drugs, alcohol, smut, sexual content, swearing and a lot of innuendos. Also this is my first fic so please be nice ☺️

You sat in the dingy upstairs apartment that you lived in with your boyfriend Kenny. You two had been together from fourth grade and you couldn't imagine your life without your orange parka clad boyfriend with his cute fluffy blonde hair that you loved running your hands through. He'd been out for quite a while now trying to score you guys some MDMA for your house warming party. Everyone that was anyone at South Park High was invited.

Y/N: Kenny, where are you?! Xx

Kenny🧡: Omw now, plug took his sweet ass time. Pour me a drink for coming home, and make sure it's got an extra measure in it! Also, got an ounce of weed, can't wait to smoke up next to you tonight 😉 xx

Y/N: You really do know how to make a girl feel special, huh? I'll see you soon, be safe and remember, if those blue lights appear, never fear, just drop a gear and disappear xx

Kenny🧡: I'm right around the corner babe, don't worry, cops have never caught me this far, I doubt they will now xx

You knew better than to reply to him, he was a quick walker and knew plenty of shortcuts. You both still lived in the shittier part of town, the rent was cheap enough for you both to afford, even if you did both work awful, barely meeting minimum wage jobs.

You heard the door clicking open and then shut, the noise of someone walking up the stairs, and there he was, hood up, a shit eating grin on his face. "Who's ready to get fucked up~?" He sang through the house, before entering the living room and spotting you standing in the adjoining kitchen, pouring him a large glass of vodka and coke, although it may as well have just been vodka. You had one poured for yourself and two shots of tequila lined up for both of you. "Tell me Ken, in all the years we've known each other, when am I not ready to get fucked up?" You answered him, handing him his drink as he sauntered into the kitchen, taking the glass from you and giving you a quick kiss on the head.

"He said this MDMA was top notch shit, straight from Europe! The ounce is Super Silver Haze, so we are set for at least a few days darling." Kenny said, his voice muffled due to his hood still covering most of his face. You smiled at him, even when only his blue eyes were visible, he was the most beautiful guy you'd ever laid eyes on, you swore you got lost in his eyes back in fourth grade and you still haven't escaped the maze yet, not that you were complaining.

"Take your coat off, babe, we can afford heating now!" You said, taking a sip from your own glass and shuddering, vodka did not taste good, but it got you fucked up and that's all that mattered. "If you want me to strip for you babe, you gotta return the favour." Kenny laughed out, unzipping his parka and taking his gloves off. Out of his pocket he pulled a baggy, a rock of pure MDMA sitting in it as he placed it on the kitchen counter. From his larger inside pocket he pulled out the aforementioned ounce of cannabis and sat it down beside the baggy. "Fancy a quick bump to start us off?" He asked, taking out his wallet and a bank card from it, starting to crush the rock inside of the baggy. "Is that even a question?" You winked towards him, coming closer to watch his skilful hands at work. You guys have done anything and everything together, you trip sat each other and knew how most drugs affected you, because let's face it, you guys have tried most. When the rock was finally a fine, yellowish looking powder you could feel the excitement building within you, and Kenny noticed. "Babe, I know you're excited but I'm taking the first hit, if I die from it you know I'll be back tomorrow morning anyway, you on the other hand, that doesn't happen to." He stated, and you knew it was true. He always took the first hit of anything you guys scored, he just wanted you to be safe. You smiled warmly at him. "I love you." You muttered softly, giving him a small kiss on the lips. "I love you too, sugar tits." He smirked before pulling out the key to your shared apartment and placing it into the baggy. He scooped up and balanced a small amount of the powder upon it and placed it to his nose, covering his other nostril and snorting the substance in one go. He then placed the key on the counter, sniffing a few times and then made a face like he was going to be to be sick. "Kenny, what's wrong?!" You asked, hurriedly holding his face as you stared at him. "I'm fine, just that drip, man! That is nasty!" He said, gagging slightly. And he wasn't wrong, you took a quick bump yourself and found that you were soon after gulping down your vodka and coke to try and rid the taste that was emanating at the back of your throat. You noticed Kenny was staring at your tits in the low cut top you wore, your skinny black jeans hugging your figure, and boy could he not tear his eyes away from you. "Like what you see?" You teased, a small smirk on his face. "Y/N, my eyes have been glued to you since fourth grade, of course I like what I see." He joked back, and you knew it was true. You were the only two impoverished kids in school, you basically grew up together. You remembered when Kenny used to steal pads and tampons from the local pharmacy for you when you got your period, and how you used to swipe whatever food you could get away with from the grocery store, you both raised each other. You realised you were fading in and out of reality, the drug starting to take effect. Kenny's pupils were large and round, and you soon found yourself cupping his face with both hands and gazing dreamily into his eyes, a small blush dusting his cheeks. "What's wrong, babe? Love buzz getting to you already?" Kenny flirted, wrapping his long, slender arms around your waist, picking you up and setting your ass on the cold countertop. "I don't know babe, I always feel this in love with you so it's hard to tell." You said, your pupils large too. You felt Kenny bring his lips to yours, biting your bottom lip cheekily, and as a small gasped escaped from you, he quickly slid his tongue into your mouth, a small moan coming from both of you as you both passionately made out. Time stood still till you heard a car pulling up, parking and all four doors slamming.

A knock could be heard at the door and you both already knew it was your friends. You could already hear Eric and Kyle bickering outside and Stan sighing. "Hey, Kenny! Get your dick in your pants and open the door!" Stan shouted through the letterbox as you both reluctantly parted your lips from one another. "You better believe I'm taking that ass straight away as soon as they're either gone, or we're in bed!" Kenny said, a small huff of annoyance at having to wait, and at having to try and conceal his already pre cum leaking cock in his tight jeans. He ran downstairs, opening the door and bowing playfully. "Welcome to my Playboy mansion." He joked, stepping aside to let the guys in.

Your apartment was nothing special, it was still decorated how the previous tenants had it, pale grey walls in the living room with black and silver wallpaper, the kitchen was red with white tiles going round it, and the bathroom was blue with a shower in the corner. Your bedroom was the only place you both could afford to decorate yet, and that was for yours and Kenny's eyes only!

"Sweet apartment guys!" Kyle said, waving to you as you added four more shot glasses to the worktop, filling them with tequila and bringing them out, along with the two you and Kenny had forgotten about. "Here's to best friends, amazing relationships, freedom and getting fucked up guys!" You exclaimed as everyone took a shot glass. "Cheers!" You all said in unison, throwing your heads back to take the shots. You all grimaced at the potent taste and the burning sensation in your throats.

Time felt like an enigma, more people arrived, Wendy, Bebe, Clyde, Craig, Tweak, Butters and more that you weren't even aware were coming. Kenny was in the kitchen chatting with Kyle and Stan about some video game while rolling a blunt. You wandered in, looking at your boyfriend with a smile. He winked at you and patted the countertop, signalling for you to sit beside him. You hopped up as Kyle and Stan took a seat at the table. You could hear Eric laughing at some poor, unfortunate girl in the living room, and you gave your boyfriend that knowing look, like a secret language between you both. He handed the half rolled blunt to you. "You're so good with your hands, think you could finish rolling that for me, baby while I rack us a line each?" He cooed, biting down on his lower lip just to tease you. "You read my mind." You said softly. Kenny hopped off the counter and to the opposite side of the kitchen, his back to you three. "What are you guys on this time?" Stan asked, he didn't particularly like weed, his dad had ruined that for him long ago, but it didn't mean he wasn't fascinated in trying other drugs. Kyle wasn't too sure how to feel, it goes completely against his religion to do any of this, but you're only young once, right? "Purest MDMA in South Park!" Kenny exclaimed. "Straight from Europe, you guys want some?" He asked, turned to face you three, bank card in hand, and two skinny, long lines already racked up for you both. "You know what, I'll do it if you do it, Kyle!" Stan declared, feeling butterflies in his stomach, his nerves always got the better of him. "Yeah, fuck it! It's been a shit week and it's Saturday! Let's make the end of this week amazing!" He said, both boys high giving each other, then turning to fist bump Kenny. He racked two more lines for Stan and Kyle and turned once again to face you all, making deep eye contact with you as you stick your tongue out to like the skin you were rolling the blunt in, sending him a flirty wink, which he gladly smirked back at. "Damn girl, you really gonna tease me like that?" He flirted back, a smile on his face.

Rolling up a bank note he placed it up his nose, snorting the line he prepared for himself. He sniffed again a few times after, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. "Who's next?" He said, holding up the bank note. "I'll go!" Said Kyle, doing the same thing Kenny did and then coughing slightly afterwards. "It tastes like shit, man!" He shouted, downing whatever drink he had in front of him. "Yeah dude, that's the drip!" You said, laughing slightly before taking the bank note yourself and sniffing the powder in one swift motion. You passed the note to Stan who nervously did the same and reacted almost the same as Kyle. "Just stay away from Wendy for a few minutes dude, the drip makes you wanna throw up and you do that when you're completely sober around her!" Kenny said, laughing slightly before picking you up and spinning your round, his hands wrapped tightly around your waist, your thighs coming up to his sides. "You look so fucking hot right now." He said, kissing you gently before pulling away to stare at you once more. Your cheeks were flushed, a mixture of what Kenny had just said and done and the drugs and alcohol you had taken. He carried you into the living room, Stan and Kyle quickly following, Kenny placed you on the sofa and quickly connected to the speaker, handing you a lighter to spark up your blunt with, you inhaled the thick smoke and exhaled it with a long sigh, you hadn't felt this amazing since the last time you two did MDMA together, and that was one messy night.

The four of you sat and chatted, taking a few bumps here and there while you all smoked the blunt in rotation. It was as if the rest of the party didn't matter. Other people were taking their own drugs, people on ketamine, ecstacy, and god knows what else, it was South Park after all. And they knew you and Kenny didn't give a fuck.

Before you knew it you had finished the entire baggy between the four of you, the party heating up as the place was packed with people. Outside was dark and the street lamps shone brightly. "Hey guys, a new nightclub has opened down the street, it's supposed to be amazing! Wanna go?" Eric shouted loudly over the music. Everyone stared at him, mulling the words over in their fucked up minds. "Fuck yeah! Why not?!" Kenny shouted, turning off the music. "I could dance, let's go guys!"

The walk felt like a blur, you don't even remember how you got there, just how soft Kenny's hand felt in yours as you walked together down the street. The nightclub luckily let you all in without ID, and surprisingly didn't think any of you were on anything. When inside the place was huge, hundreds of people on the dance floor, flashing lights and loud techno music filled the air, this night was turning out to be one to remember. Stan was finally talking to Wendy with enough confidence in his fucked up, MDMA filled brain without throwing up on her, result! Kyle was chatting to some random girl in the corner of the dance floor when you and Kenny heard one of your favourite songs come on, you knew it was a sign from the gods above as the song blasted loudly through the speakers. He took your hand in his, his fluffy blonde hair reflecting the flashing lights in the club, you swore he looked like angel sent from above as he gripped your waist tightly almost scared to lose you as you both started dancing, first giggling and playing around and soon enough grinding against each other needing some sort of contact through the buzz you guys were feeling. Fuck, this felt unreal.

"Kenny." You moaned loudly enough for him to hear. "You like that baby?" He asked, pushing his hard cock against you a bit harder. "And what if I do this?" He whispered into your ear, a long stripe licking up the front of your throat, before his mouth attached to the side of your neck, licking, biting and sucking on the skin that was sensitive when sober, so this felt like you could touch the stars. The song had changed and you still both remained on the dance floor, practically eye fucking each other, hands roaming everywhere, anywhere, just to get some sort of friction.

"Fancy a bump of coke?" He whispered to you, a confused look on your face. "You really think I'd leave us with nothing?" He laughed, as you both, hand in hand made your way to the smoking area, standing at one of the tables. "I'll get us drinks, you crush that shit and I'll be back asap!" He said, pointing to the bar in the smoking area, you just nodded obediently.

You got to work, crushing it up in the baggy and smiling to yourself. You heard Eric shouting behind you with Kyle, Wendy, Stan and Butters. They approached your table, watching you carefully make two thick lines on the table as Kenny came back, two double vodkas in hand, no mixers. "Where'd you all come from?" He joked, handing you your drink and rolling up one of the notes he had received back as change. He snorted it quickly so you all wouldn't get caught and thrown out, you did as he did and giggled slightly after taking it, both of you downing your drinks. "How the fuck are you both not dead?!" Butters shouted loudly, Tweak and Clyde finding your group in the crowd, and all of you chatting among each other. Kenny handed you a cigarette and put one between his lips, lighting it and passing you the lighter, as you lit it you felt an arm snake around your shoulders, pulling you close to his body. You looked up at your boyfriend, giggling to yourself. He whispered something to Stan and Kyle as they all nodded, the music too loud for you to know what they were talking about. They began laughing as Eric too joined in the conversation. "I'm getting some more drinks!" You shouted loudly, as you walked over to the bar, everything spinning round you, boy you loved this feeling, and knowing Kenny felt the same was even better.

You turned around to see Kenny standing a few meters from you, staring at you as you came back to hand him a drink, a soft smile on his face as he stared at you. Fuck, he was the luckiest guy in this club, in South Park, fuck it, in the world to be able to call you his. You both understood each other like no one else did, not even your parents, you guys had been through everything together, and that's why he was going to make sure you were his girl for life. He had a ring back in your apartment and wasn't sure when to propose, but he was going to, just not while you were both fucked up. "I told the guys after this drink that we're gonna go home, my cock and I have some unfinished business to attend to." He said, winking and stealing a kiss from you. "Can we all dance before we go?" You pleaded, and Kenny just simply nodded. "Whatever you'd like, Princess." He said. He knew clubs like this would never end well with a pretty girl on your hip, some other douche always had to press their boundaries, and you were his girl, no one else's.

Your large group headed back to the dance floor, as a throwback banger came on. The first song you guys listened to together at the very first party you had all ever been to, it was like a movie, you all sang (shouted) along, badly. "DON'T YOU WORRY CHILD, SEE HEAVEN'S GOT A PLAN FOR YOU!" You all screaming in unison, dancing like lunatics when the beat dropped. You truly did have the best group of friends that anyone could ask for, and to top it off, the best partner in the entire universe, he little would and has died for you, just to make sure you were safe.

Your eyes became hyper fixated on your partners face as you sang to each other, tears of joy both steaming down your faces. Kenny couldn't believe how beautiful you looked as he turned to give the guys a knowing look, he let go of the grip he had on you and got on one knee, giggling to himself, not even having the ring on his possession. "WILL YOU MARRY ME, Y/N AND MAKE ME THE HAPPIEST GUY IN THE WORLD?!" He shouted and you swore your heart skipped a beat, the guy you got married to in the playground all those years ago now finally asking you for your hand in marriage, together, both of you, together, forever. "OF COURSE I WILL!" You shouted back, as he picked you up, spinning your round with him on the dance floor, all of your friends chanting and cheering loudly.

"Now if you'll all excuse us, I'm gonna go home and fuck my fiancée!" Kenny exclaimed loudly. Everyone erupted into laughter as you both made your way out of the club, not even making it home. Kenny had pinned you against a wall in a dark alleyway, two streets away from the club, one hand gripping your thigh up to his side, the other massaging your boob, his cock already buried deep within you, your moans filled the air, it wasn't long before you were both reaching orgasm together, Kenny chanted your name like a mantra, and you screamed his name loudly, your thighs pulling him as deep inside you as he could manage, his cum painting your insides, both equally as breathless as each other.

"How 'bout we go home, we smoke a fat blunt each, order some takeout and cuddle the rest of the night?" Kenny suggested, a small smile on his lips as he watched you pulling your jeans up, still breathless and legs weak. "That sounds fucking perfect." You replied, giving him a passionate kiss before taking his hand in yours. "You better be careful kissing me like that, baby, you know how high my sex drive is, I'll end up fucking you the rest of the night." He said, a smirk on his face, throwing you a quick wink. "Oh, I'm aware Mr McCormick." You flirted back. "Won't be long till you're Mrs McCormick." He replied, a large and genuine smile on his face, you could see his little tooth gap and your heart soared. You get to spend eternity with the only guy you've ever loved, and if that isn't perfection, I don't know what is.

sorry it was so long!! I really hope you enjoyed it!! I'm gonna try writing some more, so please let me know what you think and if you have any requests, hit me up!!

#kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #stan south park #kenny south park #kenny mccormick smut #kyle south park #cartman south park #butters stotch #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh

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weaselbug · 2 months

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full thoughts on dungeon meshi

gotta say, i absolutely loved it. every minute of it.

ive never been so enthralled into something that i read it for 3 days straight. helps that i was live blogging it. and you guys absolutely loved it, though. you guys didnt love my long posts about where i got to.

i want to talk about Mithrun (i think thats his name?)

CW: suicidal ideation, depression, and stuff

but I've never seen a piece of media actually capture the feeling of wanting to die but having the willpower to just keep going. I had experienced this after high school because well, I had kept telling my self that I would commit suicide after high school, I dont really like talking about it all that much, because it feels self pitying, but I'm so glad a character in something actually got that feeling into a character, like a just left confused and aimlessly existing after you thought for sure that you were going to die, and you wanted to. disappointment is what I would call it.

the only other piece of media that talks about that kind of thing well is evangelion, but only kind of...

END OF CONTEND WARNING

i just love how there was no fan service, because well. it doesn't serve the story at all. i mean there were a couple up tunic shots for senshi, but really i dont really count those. i also dont like the idea of celebrating the fact that it was just a guy character who got them, thats just as weird if someone was celebrating the fact that there were panty shots of the female characters. please stop.

i love how the curse was real from the winged lion, made Iaios repulsive to monsters. also i really love the winged lion. i loved how he really did seem like a good dude, and it didn't feel cheap too, at least to me.

i love how you can tell the authors love for fantasy, where its not just eastern fantasy but its also not just lord of the rings. and each monster has a reason for being. like the red dragon doesn't have wings, because well, why would it need to fly if it has fire breath?

although, somethings i dont really like is that there were no lizard folk, kind of weird i geuss? you'd think there would be some of those.

also feels like Laios kinda doesn't really lose anything? while I'm glad they went with getting farin back, i think the story would have been much better if the resurrection didn't work.

this is great, but now i kinda have no reason to watch the anime anymore lol. oops, ruined it for my self haha.

#dungeon meshi #delicous in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #cw suicidality #evangelion

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sillystarters · 4 months

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it's always sunny in philadelphia season sixteen starter sentences.

starter sentences taken from episodes one - three from season sixteen of it's always sunny in philadelphia. part one of ??

have you ever seen teenage mutant ninja turtles ?

you spent close to $20,000 on a couch you never owned.

that's pretty bad business fellas.

now listen i have glued my hand to a door so they can't physically remove me.

you know, i know stuff.

that's money talk right there.

how much nut do you go through a month?

are you storing up your nut or are you blowing through it?

i'll give you fifty cents for a buck.

come, have a seat.

it was super cheap dude.

well listen, i don't really have any interest in your bulk tin of low end economy nuts.

yeah don't make a mess.

what's behind that door?

holy shit! what the fuck is this?

i wasn't tryin' to be crypto about it.

this is tits!

can i sleep in here?

we're gonna blow our shoes out with all this walking.

how is this not a big deal?

move past it dude, move past it man.

i really ultimately don't give a shit.

did you glue your hand to my door?

i can tell you're mad.

i can't deal with this.

and just leave me here all alone?

i don't wanna be a bad host.

you know what, this was a mistake.

i can't sleep.

what is going on with you dude?

what you workin' on there bud?

is that thing loaded, by the way?

get off my back.

you know what? screw this.

i am in the prime of my life.

okay so it was loaded, my mistake. don't be so dramatic.

it's not like anybody's in any real danger.

getting shot in the face is pretty cool.

i do care about the money though.

i got some bad news for ya, bud.

i figured you probably forgot too or something.

did you try to pull out your own teeth?

i'm so sorry.

i didn't have the heart to tell you.

those ungrateful bitches.

i can't believe you did this!

i'm not mad at you okay? it's fine.

you did make a mistake.

i didn't mean to upset you.

this is not working.

should we just attack him and take it?

shut up!

this is my worst nightmare in my entire life.

she burnt the shit outta me.

i got a little surprise for ya.

you wanna take it easy? goddamn. just one bite at a time.

ha! i almost ate my gun.

i hope everyone brought their appetite because i made quiche!

this is like, everything you've ever wanted.

that is ... sad.

this is so annoying.

alright, where to now?

a perfect day can't last forever.

what the hell are you doing?

you're outta control with that thing.

just barge right in okay don't be shy.

oh my god what are you doing here?

this is so distasteful.

asmr, dickweed!

how long has it been?

that's a definite pass for me.

this is a million to one shot and i've got a really good feeling about this.

our luck just turned around.

i don't wanna have my ass handed to me.

we have a problem.

whatever you do, don't laugh.

this is bad, dude.

what? why are you trying to break my door down at three in the morning?

i just wanted to ask if you could kindly keep the noise down.

this was very sweet of you to bake these for me.

it's a trophy, see? it says cunt of the year. that's you!

bad things are going to happen to you one day. i guarantee it.

you earned it!

we're not having bad luck, we're having good luck.

come here you rat! die!

it's time to make good on your end of the bargain.

what is your deal, man?

i'm going to beat you with my shoe!

we gotta take this seriously.

go make your apologies!

i'm done listening to this.

'just in case' is as good of a reason to believe in anything as any.

i don't believe in that bullshit.

well, that's not good.

that's a bad omen!

boy, that's a shame.

thank you for this.

i'm just trash right? that's what you said.

i got you a sixer!

i gotta show you something but you gotta keep it a secret.

you're not following.

it makes literally no sense.

a moment of your time?

i'm sorry your dad doesn't like you.

#starter sentences #rp starter sentences #inbox prompts #rp inbox prompts #iasip starter sentences

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positivelybeastly · 4 months

Note

How do you feel about the X-Men just slaughtering human members of orchis?

"It pleases me more than you can imagine to see the others finally coming to their senses. Only so much can be accomplished with the spoken and written word - at some point, you eventually have to get your hands dirty. We have to strike first. If the humans are given the chance, there will be no first strike, only the last strike. It's what I'd do in their place."

Yeah, I don't love it, tbh.

Like, I get why it exists, I get why we got all those panels of Shadowkat jamming guns into people's heads with her phasing powers and all, but, like . . . okay, let me pull this stuff up.

So, like, I get it.

Something awful has happened to mutantkind, and everyone has their way of responding to that trauma. I get that. In-universe, it makes absolute sense that Kate would react like this. It's not like she hasn't killed before. And let's be real here, all the same logic arguments about killing vs. not killing in comic books apply here - if you let them go, they'll only hurt someone later; it sends a message that if you hurt mutants, you get hurt in return; Xavier's dream has been proven to be a load of old shit, Magneto had the right idea all along.

That's sure an argument that you can make.

In-universe, I get it.

But out of universe?

This is cheap. This has no bite, this has no weight to it, it's empty calories in my opinion. Why? Because it betrays a fundamental lack of imagination about ways to tell the X-Men story, and the fundamental limits of Western comic books, if you think about what it actually means.

Comic book heroes generally aren't meant to kill because they're paragons of moral behaviour. They exemplify a moral standard that we should all ascribe to. That's the Golden Age logic, right?

Except that the Joker. Right? So, this is a conversation to be had, and I think trying to apply a baseline logic to it is kinda pointless, because the morals and ethics of killing in a Batman story are so much more important and meaningful to the themes of that story than, say, in an X-Men story. Sometimes you need to kill the giant fucking robot, sometimes Trask just needs to fucking die, sometimes you gotta snap Cassandra Nova's neck.

That's - kind of a whole other argument, and not the one I'm interested in talking about right now. This isn't really about whether it's right or wrong for heroes to kill, I only bring this up as context to what I'm about to say, which IS.

This is cheap parlour tricks to get a FUCK YEAH moment out of the reader by Gerry Duggan because gratuitous violence is an easy way to get a pop out of a comic book audience.

There's some real great exchanges from Star Trek that I'm just going to shamelessly crib here, because I think they really exemplify my point, so here goes:

PICARD: Six years ago, they assimilated me into their collective. I had their cybernetic devices implanted throughout my body. I was linked to the hive mind, every trace of individuality erased. I was one of them. So you can imagine, my dear, I have a somewhat unique perspective on the Borg and I know how to fight them. Now if you will excuse me I have work to do. LILY: I am such an idiot. It's so simple. The Borg hurt you, and now you're going to hurt them back. PICARD: In my century we don't succumb to revenge. We have a more evolved sensibility. LILY: Bullshit! I saw the look on your face when you shot those Borg on the holodeck. You were almost enjoying it! PICARD: How dare you! LILY: Oh, come on, Captain. You're not the first man to get a thrill from murdering someone. I see it all the time! PICARD: Get out! LILY: Or what? You'll kill me, like you killed Ensign Lynch?! PICARD: There was no way to save him. LILY: You didn't even try. Where was your evolved sensibility then?!

I love that scene.

"It's so simple. The Borg hurt you, and now you're going to hurt them back."

It's that simple, huh?

O'BRIEN: Captain. PICARD: Chief. I wanted to talk to you. O'BRIEN: Anything I can do, sir, you know that. PICARD: Ben Maxwell. He must be quite a man. O'BRIEN: He's a rare one, all right. I count myself lucky, sir. I've served with the two finest Captains in Starfleet. PICARD: From your knowledge of the man, what has gone wrong? O'BRIEN: There's a reason for what he's doing. Those Cardassians were up to something, I'm sure of it. PICARD: When his family was killed, how did he take it? O'BRIEN: I'd say he took it well. Oh, I know he was broken up inside, who wouldn't be? But you'd never know it to see him. He never missed a minute's duty, always had a smile, a joke. PICARD: I see. O'BRIEN: He would never retaliate out of vengeance, no matter what that Cardassian says. They're up to something, sir. They're the ones you should be investigating, not Captain Maxwell. PICARD: You don't care for the Cardassians? O'BRIEN: I like them fine. It's just, well, I know them. You learn to watch your back when you're around those people. PICARD: Ben Maxwell has just sent more than six hundred of them to their deaths. O'BRIEN: I don't know what to say, sir, but he must have had his reasons. PICARD: I think when one has been angry for a very long time, one gets used to it. And it becomes comfortable, like old leather. And, finally, it becomes so familiar that one can't ever remember feeling any other way.

The Hellfire Gala Massacre was a cheap emotional trick to make X-fans mad, and an easy way to get easy pops whenever another X-Man kills a rando Orchis thug, because FUCK YEAH, FOR KRAKOA, and it's like . . . okay?

Is this not a betrayal of - and I'm going to stop you right there, because I'm not about to say what you think I'm going to say.

No, I'm not about to talk about the betrayal of ideals, or the betrayal of moral standards, or the betrayal of what Krakoa stood for.

Is this not a betrayal of the entire point of what made Orchis even remotely different as an X-Men enemy?

They were a scientific, sociologically active, legal avenue exploiting think tank that attacked on all fronts, and now, they're reduced to a wisecracking robot from the future and an army of disposable goons who might as well be wearing Hydra green or AIM yellow beekeeper suits.

Why?

Because that's easier to write. It's so much easier to write Shadowkat murdering a group of Orchis goons than it is to engage with Orchis on a higher level and deconstruct what prejudice looks like on a systematic, sociological level. This turns the so-called social conflict aspect of X-Men comics into just boring normal conflict.

Shadowkat killed a lot of Orchis, so now racism is over with! And, like, I get it, it's not a ton of fun to sit around and watch X-Men debate a load of racists, it's a superhero comic, you wanna see a guy hit another guy at some point, but it just feels like such a dumbing down of the more interesting, multi-faceted organisation that Orchis were presented to be.

There are so many instances of really thoughtful, socially minded commentary in Krakoan era, from Hellions to New Ayala's New Mutants to Unlimited, but this stuff, in the comic literally just called X-Men, which would make you think it's the most definitive statement of what the line of books is meant to be, it's just the most watered down, basic bitch, boring version of the conflict.

And it's not like I'm asking for Hickman or Morrison, I know that's not the wheelhouse we're operating in here, but it just feels kinda . . . lame, that the best imagery and way of showing oppression in 2024 is Sentinels flying through the sky with searchlights on their chests and comic book villains posturing over our heroes. I was hoping for something more intelligent and interesting.

But it is what it is.

#vinial453 #verse: each of us is a nest of lies #outofmuffins #blood tw #gore tw #body horror tw

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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 3 months

Note

hiiiiii, coming in here asking if you got any tips for possibly writing ford getting drunk and just generally how to write such a thing? I really want to have him do that in my next Forduary fic that I'm writing but I don't know where to start since I've never had a lick of alcohol and idk what my headcanons for him about this will lie, ie. whether he'd be a lightweight, whether he'd have drunk alcohol before this fic or how he acts under the influence (he'd be buzzed to tipsy most of the fic besides the end end, if that helps). for context, I was thinking he was going mad trying not to think of Stan on his 30th birthday and eventually caves in to drink some cheap whiskey from the convenience store while doing errands to forget. if you have tips or fics where that happens I can reference or even just headcanons about Ford and alcohol, I'd gladly take it, but it's alright if you don't. feel free to take this to discord but also answer this ask privately if you would.

man im gonna be honest with u i havent drunk a lick of alcohol either 😔 i just bullshit it most of the time and have gotten oddly good at it lately. i can, however, give you tips n tricks to make it seem like you do. and headcanons too--those go first ;)

(also please take this with a grain of salt as i too haven't drunk alcohol regularlu to know my shit. this all just research and thoughts on this specific situation. thoughts below the cut ! please dont come at me)

first off u gotta figure out the basics: adding the character + alcohol together; what would it do? i see ford as a "drinks to forget the outside world" type of drunkard. he's blissfully ignorant but still has the wired anguish within him, resulting into... a lot of feelings. he tasted it young, but didnt get Into It until the paranoia stint when taste didnt matter anymore and al he wanted was a decent depressant. however he can hold liquor very well, which is a problem considering the purpose, and has to drink a lotttt to achieve what he wants to the point he could get addicted. those are things you can make up yourself and therefore pretty easy: but actual facts? those are harder. here's some i've learned:

- there's a hugeeee difference between hard alcohol and a drink that happens to be laced in alcohol. for one, hard alcohol is served in small glasses/shot glasses while other drinks can be served on pretty much anything (but still small). an easier to understand real world example would be this: someone could, say, have seven shirley temples (an alcoholic beverage) without being incapacitated, but seven shots of vodka will at minimum knock you unconsious. five glasses of wine could do shit to you but five shots of whiskey will GET you. you gotta know what your character's drinking. pick a type you know and research if you must.

- hard alcohol has no taste. again, big diffence between these types. if anything it burns because, well, have you felt alcohol placed on ur skin while getting a shot or placed in a wound? that shit burns and it wont be any different down ur throat. if there js a taste you're barely gonna notice. alcoholics dont drink for taste--they've got more sinister shit goin' on.

- you gotta know what your character has. is it a regular small glass you'd see in a movie or a shot glass he takes from over and over? is he drinking from the bottle directly? how often is he taking a drink? is it bourbon? whiskey? vodka? rum? they alllll do different shit. you gotta KNOW (sorry if im repeating, but this is crucial)

- there are different types of addicts. there are binge drinkers, alcohol abusers, alcohol dependant (theres a difference), and u gotta.research which one u wanna portray. i say ford's an abuser: he has a somewhat consious level of what he drinks, but still doesnt stop because--well, its either being drunk off your rocker or having to succumb to Reality, which in this case, is genuinely dangerous (Bill.)

- there are also a lot of different symptoms, depending on the dosage. here's some ive screenshotted from a post a while ago:

so that's something. also, here's some sites thatcould help:

how to write drunk speech

a page in the CDC about alcohol and beer

a page on the national institution of health about alcohol (really nice, gives you a lotof the basics)

and the australian alcohol and drug association

also i will say that if it werent for bill, ford's relationship with alcohol would likely be very different and probably healthier tbh--again, it differs on why your character drinks, related to trauma or not. sometimes, they just do, and there's nothing you can do about it--but there's usually a reason when it comes 2 fiction. the point: know ur shit even if ur gonna be vague, and if u can help it, name names when it matters. dont say "he drank a shot of alcohol" say he "took a shot of whiskey" and such-like. look up what kind of hard alcohols there are and understand what would be on hand if ford were to get his hands on some of this stuff. i hope this helped, and good luck on forduary! <3

#add it to the bible #hath are perceived #gravity falls

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vanosslirious · 7 months

Text

BBS Dialogue Prompts: #300

BBS Dialogue Prompts & Sentence Starters: [ 8 ]

SMII7Y

He absolutely fell on us.

You know, I’d really just appreciate it if someone gave me at least a little bit of pills.

You fucking addict.

This is why you listen to me, baby.

All I did was push him in the right direction.

Wait, he just robbed you?

Bro, you just knocked me out of the universe.

Are you going to get mugged?

He fucking got your ass.

Why are you panicking so much?

I saw you slow down, you little bitch.

I knocked it all out of my system.

This looks a little questionable.

Triple high-five, triple high-five.

We gotta count it down, bro, we can’t just go for it.

Can you just get your hand ready for a high-five, please.

I’m going to grab these vials, because I feel like we’ll need them.

Gimme those fucking pills.

I’m fucking traumatized.

Let’s OD him on blood.

VANOSSGAMING

Shoot anything that moves.

No cheap deaths, starting now.

That goes for all of us.

No, no, in the game, not in real life...

I actually think it's funnier not seeing what's happening.

Stop looking up answers, I want to figure out some stuff.

I gave you false hope.

I didn’t know that either.

What are you doing down here?

This is your plan?

BLARG

He looks so cute.

Yeah, I brought the wrong vehicle.

I lost you guys, I don't even know where the fellas' are.

Somebody rear end me.

I'm flying over my own yacht right now.

Oh my God, it brought me back to the start.

It's the police!

Is it stormy, why is it so dark?

Let's fill him with pee.

Not a live bear.

TERRORISER

I dropped the thing when I screamed like a bitch.

Where did you buy that fucking headset?

Does this kill you?

I swear I heard something in that factory.

Get on a bike, get on a bike!

You better get up here.

I heard they're into weird ritual shit.

I was hitting them but they just wouldn't die.

Yes, I killed someone!

In the name of Satan…sorry.

GRIZZY

I'm not going for the helicopter.

Listen, I feel like my presence is enough.

Did you all see that shit?

Now we have to pay for my mistakes.

What are the rules?

You know that I will.

I make my own dumb decisions on my own accord.

Move, you fuck!

Stop running from me!

That's why I'm not looking forward to it.

H2ODELIRIOUS

The whole world is gone.

Come and get hugs for free!

Get the hell off of me!

Is he trying to steal my car?

He’s talking mad trash about my books.

Let’s get out of here before we get killed.

Don't worry, I got him.

Help me, I need backup!

By the way, we have no idea what the hell we are doing.

Come on, use your brain.

BIGPUFFER

Round the fuck up, boys.

I'm about to pay money right here anyway.

Ya'll mother fucker's will have to warp.

You just run over it.

I'm trying to catch the flies.

Why the hell would that be a dead end?

Okay, we're all even again, it's like nothing happened.

What happened, I thought you never lose.

I don't know what this game wants from me.

Catch me.

NOGLA

You’re ruining the sacred drug den!

One of these are going to save me!

Take heroin, we’ll all be together.

We might get angry and kill each other.

You gotta get sober now.

Oh, now I’m the one in the fucking sober hole.

Don’t do that, that’s bad, that’s immoral.

Thanks for absolutely ruining the experiment.

Oh, I shot him twenty times in the arm.

Why aren't you picking him up?

#banana bus squad #bbs #smii7y's group #smii7y #vanossgaming #blargmyschnoople #the terroriser #grizzy #h2odelirious #bigpuffer #daithi de nogla #bbs prompts #rpf #rpf prompts #tw swearing #tw drugs mention #text #words

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purplekoop · 6 months

Text

Koop Talks About... (#2) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990) A Shell of a Classic!

So not something I saw during my trip, but something I did get during my trip. Out of my house's fairly extensive DVD collection, one shameful omission was the original 1990 Ninja Turtles movie. I'd seen it before several times, by Netflix or TV viewings or other temporary means, but it was something we conspicuously didn't have to keep. It was actually the only theatrically released Turtles movie (available on physical media as of now, sorry Mutant Mayhem) we didn't have: we had its two sequels, and the Bay movies, and the 2007 CGI movie "TMNT", but not the original, which is a shame since... I mean yeah I like this one a lot, that's what the post is for. So, very glad that during a flea market trip with my partner over the thanksgiving break, we found a DVD store selling it for cheap. I uh... spent all my cash I had on me during the trip, so thank you Duck, this post was made possible by and is therefore dedicated to you!

Just watched the DVD now while wrapping up christmas decoration in the living room with family, and while my teenage (ha) younger sister was eye-rolling at first, we were all sitting down through to the end well after finishing the tree. My mom was a turtles fan back in the original cartoon's heyday, so it's not hard to convince her to give anything with the heroes in a half shell a try. Meanwhile, I grew up with the 2012 show (I was like 10 when it started but those are details for later), saw the Bay movies when they were relevant, saw some episodes of the '03 show on Nicktoons, and somehow managed to see the 90s movie trilogy for the first time in reverse order. guess I was saving the best for last?

Anyways, preamble over, time to talk about the movie.

First off, I just wanna appreciate how much this is a 1990 movie. The fashion, the hair, the reference humor that's already dated to be nearly incomprehensible nonsense but in a way that's charming. And I gotta say, as much as I am a stickler for video quality sometimes, the amount of graininess in the opening shots (maybe not helped by me standing so close to the TV, the tree was right next to it and I was hanging ornaments when the movie started) had me giddy. Maybe in part based on a cynicism to modern, hyper-streamlined mainstream media, but it's just nice to watch something from a few decades back and just be relaxed by the different, calmer energy.

Speaking of old school though, I can NOT hold off talking any longer about the highlight of the movie: the practical effects. They bring the characters to life in a way that is genuinely unmatched, I don't think any computer-based effects have approached anywhere near the sense of sincere realness that the animatronic effects and suits in this movie bring. The small facial expressions, while not a perfect illusion, still have so much more life in them than I would think possible for fancy suits now, let alone over 30 years ago. Plus, the fact that they're physical, real entities adds so much more weight to some scenes. The scene in the farmhouse where Leo just pours a cup of water over Raph's shell has such feeling to it, the fact that the scene has so little visual trickery makes the scene hit so much better than it would otherwise. Seeing the pattern on the back of his shell, and the water going over it, just. it's so cool that it's all real, no cheats, and it makes the whole thing feel more real and alive.

The heroes of this movie are the engineers who designed the suits, who managed to make lifelike characters that could emote and invoke emotion just as well as they could move around for fight scenes, and the in-person actors who had the dreadful task of wearing those suits. These suits look great but they were anything but pleasant to be in, especially trudging through sewers and doing extensive fight scene stunts. From what I've heard of the on-set horror stories, the heat was the most unbearable part. As much as I sing the praises of the effects in this movie, I feel it'd be tasteless to not also acknowledge the suffering for the art here.

(on a lighter note, I should also mention that the same animatronic/suit hybrid tech that went into this movie is, I'm fairly certain, almost the exact same tech used to make the FNAF movie. I figured that's worth bringing up.)

I guess I should also mention how the characters actually look. The design of the turtles is a bit offputting at first, but very quickly becomes charming, very much helped by the aforementioned fantastic facial expression tech to ease them out of the uncanny valley. They really nail the balance between realism and fitting the original cartoony silhouettes. I don't wanna berate the Bay movies too much here because that's not exactly breaking new ground, but I feel like in something as important as the designs of the turtles, the older films waaaayyy surpass whatever the hell the 2010s movie designs were with their weird, inscrutable faces and wonky proportions. Those aren't inherently terrible realistic mutant turtle guy designs, I can see what they're going for at least, but they're not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. The goofy mascot suits of the 90s are a much cleaner bridge into a realistic depiction of the animated show's designs, with familiar proportions but more organic textures in a way that feels natural. Splinter, who isn't a suit character but I believe some sort of animatronic puppet using some similar tech to the Dark Crystal vulture dudes, is also similarly a great shift into realism using the original cartoon design as a basis, but his effectiveness is I think even greater because of how well this design gives his presence in the movie such an emotional anchor point. He's a bit ragged and dirty-looking, and his missing ear gives his design a bit of grit, but his face is hard for me to not read as cute. It makes the scenes later in the movie where he's battered and bruised but still has those sad little puppy eyes and gentle kindness to his mannerisms. I think also his slow, deliberate mannerisms turn the limitations of the tech behind his depiction into a strength. He genuinely looks like a gentle old creature who for all we know could just pass out (or away) after getting roughed up just a little too much, probably because the puppet wasn't much more stable than it looked. This is in contrast to the more frequent livelier depictions of Splinter who actually can move around at high speeds. Maybe I'm biased because I've got a small 14 year old dog who's prone to having matted fur and has a bit of a rat-shaped face. Honestly, as much as I like the sleek and imposing look Splinter has in the 2012 show, I think this movie's iteration may be my favorite design for balancing realism and "rat factor" with still being a cute and appealing design, though "appealing design" with the context of the visual style of the movie, my sister at least found him to look a little creepy at first. Which, hey, giant rat man who lives in the sewers, I guess that's not unwarranted.

So we've talked about how the characters look, but what about what they do? More specifically, performances and writing and junk.

I like the characterization of the turtles here, it's a bit subtle but they very much all still feel in-character. Raphael is sort of this movie's main turtle more than anyone else, having the most solo scenes and all at least early on. To be honest, especially given the limited backlog of source material at this point, this is a really solid and nuanced characterization of him. I think Raph's best iterations are described as "a tempermental ass because he cares", and not just "a tempermental ass". He gets mad because he takes things seriously and cares about people. In this movie specifically, he's the most proactive to go out of his way to help people. When helping April ends up getting Splinter kidnapped, he's devastated and it weighs on him until they get him back at the end. His VA delivers a ton of lines with incredible emotion, while also selling some great comedy that doesn't feel out of character either. The other turtles are a bit less interesting but their core traits are still there. Leonardo is the respectful leader and goodie-two-shoes who's still passionate but knows how to keep his cool, and his usual butting of heads with Raph is both believable and resolved nicely without dragging on too long. Michelangelo is... the funny one who makes slightly more reference jokes and is comic relief more often. And Donnie. Is also there. Look, he doesn't get to do much in this movie, they don't do whacky gadgets or anything, but I remember he gets to do more in the sequel at least. His main role is just being a comic relief partner with Mikey, which did get a laugh out of me pretty much every time. The A- team is a solid duo for a reason. I think it is also worth pointing out for newer fans that Donnie was a lot more low-key back then than he is in the 2012 show and later stuff. As fun as the more bombastic recent depictions have been, I still appreciate his role here even if he does feel a bit like "the fourth one who is also here."

Splinter is... a very nice and gentle Splinter. Not too much to say on him that I didn't mention or allude to when talking about how he looks. His soft-spoken and kind voice makes you really want to see him make it through okay, and he doesn't come off as an overly harsh teacher even in the most dire circumstances. Again, as much as I love 2012 Splinter, like I REALLY love a ton about 2012 Splinter, this movie's version is just so pleasant and likeable, he sells the emotional moments that ground the movie.

Oh and also human characters exist. To be transparent, I was in and out of the room and not fully sitting down for the early parts of the movie for this viewing, which is a bit of a slow start as we mostly follow April as the plot gets established. This is fine though, and actually doesn't drag on for too long before getting to "the good stuff". I don't have much to say about April, she's well acted and her role in the movie makes sense. Her hair is extremely 1990, that's something.

I also need to acknowledge that the human characters very much feel like side characters. This is the turtles' movie, and it feels like it is. They give them plenty of screen time to express their personalities and have a central role in the story, without using human characters as a lame shortcut to make "relatable" characters. They let the leads be the leads, which I think is a general sin of modern movie adaptations with their obligatory relatable boring human characters hogging screentime from the title characters people are actually here for. The relatable human sidekicks here are established from the source material, but don't feel tacky like the first Bay movie where the boring human lead is stuck pushing the plot forward for a significant time before the real fun characters are allowed to exist.

Casey Jones is a hard character to mess up I think, even his Bay movie adaptation is entertaining to me. I honestly didn't remember how soon he shows up, and despite my concerns he doesn't really clutter the movie as much as I would've thought. His inclusion feels pretty natural, and he plays off the story pretty well and has a distinct role in it. He's acted well (another great source of jokes distinct in delivery from the turtles) and definitely looks the part, though his relationship with April feels... well a bit tacky and a little forceful, chemistry is a little wonky and some scenes make me wince a little, but I've seen worse from mainstream movies, and arguably even with other officially-endorsed April ships (2012 my guy I love you to death but what was UP with Donnie about April, why was that necessary).

And then last classic character of note is Shredder, who... isn't too much of a personality, but his plan and role in the story is oddly cool? Instead of vague and overly ambitious global domination, this is the most low-key Shredder we've seen on screen. He wants to run a vaguely realistic criminal empire, and how he does it is by having teenagers join his ninja clan like it's a street gang out of an 80's anti-drug PSA. His lair isn't an imposing evil villain castle or sci-fi base, it's a warehouse or something filled with arcade cabinets and kids who aren't old enough to vote smoking cigarettes. I swear there's like actually a 9 year old in some shots. It's a believable ploy to get a loyal workforce, using cool toys and language like "we're a family and nobody in the outside world respects you" to get the loyalty of vulnerable kids, plus it also explains how the foot soldiers in this movie are kind of bumbling idiots when they're... y'know, primarily teenagers who are barely trained. It's such a simple but realistic kind of villainy, but it doesn't demean Shredder's fear factor just because he doesn't have as grand of ambitions. When he shows up, the fact that he's a serious threat is still conveyed. Admittedly his connection to the turtles feels a bit more shallow and flimsy than in other adaptations (again 2012 the GOAT ilysm), but he still puts up a way better fight than... the angsty teenagers he dressed up in bug-eyed ninja masks, I guess. Plus he looks cool, gotta admit the red sounds silly at first but he makes it work. If you want some more insight on why this version of Shredder is so cool, check out Gaijin Goomba's "Which Ninja" video on the character as a whole, going over his weaponry and characteristics and how true they are to real historical ninjas. I think it does mention a pretty notorious spoiler about the 2003 show version of him, but mentions fairly little from 2012 and the video was made before Rise and Mutant Mayhem, so safe if you haven't seen those.

This is easily my favorite live action Turtles movie, and as of now (noting that I haven't seen half of Rise or any of Mutant Mayhem) is my second favorite turtles thing in general, beaten only by the 2012 animated series, which is one of my favorite shows of all time. That show pays pretty good tribute to this movie, taking some of its minor plot points and extrapolating them into not just shallow references, but whole episodes and even story arcs based on what are only minor details in the movie. yeah I know, the movie is also based on the comics, but I'm bad at reading things and also an uncultured swine so sue me. I do gotta wonder how annoying I was legit pointing at the screen leaning forward at times pointing out similarities, down to the cars they drive in and out of the city. If you're like me and that was your first exposure to the turtles, this is a natural and very glowing recommendation.

Even if you're not a turtles fan though, this movie is still a classic just about anyone can enjoy. It's a movie with genuine heart on its sleeve, plenty of charm, and a solid benchmark adaptation of the characters, all made all the more believable by the top-notch practical effects that brought them to life on the big screen for the first time. Maybe a lot of the charm for me is the suits and that it's a few decades old now, free from the chains of more modern cynicism. Even with this movie's tacky quips and (formerly) topical reference humor, it didn't reek of modern pop culture lazy writing, but maybe it would've if I was around it back then. Or maybe they really don't make 'em like they used to, I dunno, I don't care, this movie's neat and it being old maybe makes it like it more and that's fine I think.

I plan on getting the box set for the 2012 show for christmas, so maybe consider this a preface to me finally gushing properly about that. I might also cover the other theatrical movies, I'm excited to rewatch Secret of the Ooze and none of the others (besides Mutant Mayhem I'm looking forward to that one). Honestly I think I give TMNT (2007) a bit of a hard time, and I remember thinking Out of the Shadows was decent at least. Also until I do some more research into finding epic and cool ways to watch them easily, don't expect me to look into watching the other shows in full yet, those are gonna take a bit longer.

As usual, zero clue what I'm talking about next, so stay tuned.

#koop talks about things #tmnt #ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 1990

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watching-pictures-move · 9 months

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Viddying the Nasties | Cannibal Ferox (Lenzi, 1981)

Having recently watched and not very much enjoyed Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid, I decided that I was in the mood for more jungle adventures. Such is my affection for movies set in the jungle that in some cases I can let it slide if it isn’t even a real jungle. I think of classic jungle comedies shot obviously on sets, such as Africa Screams, in which Lou Costello slowly descends into petrifying fear as realizes that the lion with whom he is trapped in a cage is not his friend Bud Abbott disguised as a lion but in fact the real thing, and Three Missing Links, in which the Three Stooges brutalize a gorilla and later threaten it with sexual assault. The jungle in these movies may not be real, but the adversarial relationship between man and nature very much is. So in this spirit, I decided to rewatch Umberto Lenzi’s 1981 grindhouse shocker Cannibal Ferox. And I still think it sucks.

Probably the easiest way to summarize the movie would be to describe it as Cannibal Holocaust but worse, or Cannibal Holocaust with the most interesting part removed, that being the found footage element. The found footage scenes obviously give that movie a degree of verisimilitude with respect to placing us in the jungle, but even the earlier scenes give the environment an aura of foreboding as we’re tied to the perspective of the hero as he journeys deeper into the rainforest to discover the fate of the missing documentary crew. Here, I found the early scenes at least had a curious effect this time around. The movie was in fact shot in the Amazon, but the brightness of the image and the staid framing of the shots make these scenes feel like they were shot on a set. Lenzi’s limp direction cannot entirely defeat the voodoo of location, but he certainly gives it the old college try.

The most noxious element of the movie and the whole cannibal genre is the inclusion of animal cruelty. There is theoretically an artistic defense of this element, in that it shows that the jungle is an unforgiving place, so that having beast kill beast, man hill beast, beast kill man and man kill man in equally graphic detail presents a certain equalizing effect. The cruelty of the jungle does not discriminate. But at the same time, these scenes feel so divorced from the thrust of the plot that one wonders, if the filmmakers were too cheap to fake these deaths through special effects, they didn’t at least use some stock footage. It’s not like the movie would come off as anymore poorly made. I dunno, whatever intellectual defenses one can conjure up, I have a hard time getting behind staging real animal deaths for your movie.

It also feels like the movie is throwing in those scenes to pad the runtime, a purpose that also explains the mob plot that eats up way too much of the runtime despite adding little in the way of narrative momentum. The whole thing feels slipshod, although this is a movie that exists at such an extreme, where the violence, both real and simulated, is so vicious, that the rest of the movie dissolves. When a movie trots out images of a dick getting cut off, a dick getting cut off and eaten (which I admit got a laugh out of me), breasts being pierced with meathooks, torsos being split open and dug into for innards, eyeballs being gouged out and other acts of extreme violence painted with a certain level of realism, at a certain point you just gotta hand it to it. (Along with the alternate title of Make Them Die Slowly, these scenes make the movie play like an early iteration of torture porn.) It may not be enjoyable, but it certainly has an impact. I do think from this perspective, the limpness of Lenzi’s direction is arguably an asset. The rest of the movie is just the thinnest of structures to support these pungent visuals. Whether or not it’s any good doesn’t matter.

I will say that one thing I appreciate over the other movie is the, how you say, lack of intellectual rigor. Cannibal Holocaust, perhaps because it is more polished in craft and more calculated in its effect, has the pretense of seriousness about its message, even if it proves entirely disingenuous. (It’s hard to buy the argument that we’re the real savages… sorry, “cannibals”, when it explicitly paints the documentary crew as sociopaths and fails to convincingly conflate them with us.) Here, the movie is much lazier in pushing its message, usually with some ironic narration from one of three lines spouted by the heroine early in the movie. The effect is like someone trying to do a book report using only quotes from the back cover.

In my review of Anacondas, I posited that the worldview of these movies is that jungle is unforgiving but fundamentally amoral, and that the characters are able to unleash their true natures in such an environment. And much of the unleashing here is done by Giovanni Lombardo Radice, who plays his role with a coked-out derangement as he proceeds to terrorize the locals at every opportunity and eventually get his ultraviolent comeuppance. He is certainly the best part of the movie and also offers the more reliable form of levity thank to the voice actor and dialogue he’s saddled with, offering us such choice line readings as "Huh, you get off on ecology, twat?" And apparently he objected strongly to the animal killings during production. When Lenzi suggested that Robert De Niro would partake in the killings in an attempt to persuade him, he supposedly responded “De Niro would kick your ass all the way to Rome.”

Other forms of levity include the fake gruff voice that Robert Kerman is stuck with for some reason even though he speaks English in real life (and has a distinctive voice to boot), Zora Kerova’s character being defined entirely as dumb and horny and nothing else, Lorraine De Selle suggesting they sing a song to keep their spirits up before the cannibals eat them. I suspect De Selle was cast for her sad eyes and natural frown (the movie hilariously ends with a closeup of her face in the laziest attempt at generating an emotional reaction), but her performance here represents a kind of anti-acting, letting every single look, gesture, emotional beat and line of dialogue limply flop onto the ground, like you've just seen the art of screen acting die in real time.

Okay, so the movie isn’t entirely devoid of enjoyable elements, but also, a big no thanks to the whole thing.

#film #movie review #cannibal ferox #umberto lenzi #viddying the nasties

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nordic-language-love · 2 years

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Language Learning Log 2022 Week 24 (13/06 - 19/06)

Banner photo: The weather was nice this week (mostly), so I took the opportunity to light up the fire clubs my friend lent me several months ago. I love them! She’s said she might sell them, in which case I’ll definitely buy them off her!

Norwegian

Speaking practice

Chatted with @pilvenhattara 💜

Listened to 2.5x Ekko podcasts

Read 7x Kakerlakkene chapters

Read 1x article

Japanese

Duolingo

2x italki lessons (1h 30m)

Listened to the radio

Made grammar notes

Attempted to read NHK easy news

Made and reviewed Anki cards

Played Pokemon Shining Pearl

The mini speaking challenge is underway! I missed one day because it was a busy day and I ended up being really tired/not having time, but other than that I’ve managed to stay on top of it. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep it up this week as my boyfriend and I are going to Amsterdam for his birthday. But it’s okay, because my Norwegian tutor’s back this week, and I’m also using up some extra package lessons from my Bergenstest tutor. Then I guess I should practice some Dutch! Gotta say, I barely remember a word of it, but I’ll probably recap the basics so I can at least order a diet coke and say thank you (I feel like that’s the least you can do when you travel abroad tbh, even when going to a country where like 90% of people speak flawless English).

I think I'm getting faster at saying things in Japanese. Not a lot faster, but it takes me a little less time to think about the number I need to say before I say it. Although I have developed a new habit... adding question particles to the end of past tense verbs for no reason 😅 I think it's just overcorrection because I kept forgetting those particles. Duolingo is getting easier too though; the things that used to feel too difficult are quite easy, or at least starting to make sense. The beginner stage of a language where you can see your progress really clearly is awesome, huh?

NHK Easy News is still too difficult for me by a long shot though. But every time I try to read the headlines, I see something familiar and can maybe work something out. It's such a nice feeling when that happens! Like I saw 円 and 安 and was like "so the first one is yen and the second one is cheap... something about the yen being weak?" And I was right :D I'm still yet to understand a single headline without the help of Google Translate though. But I’m trying very hard!

Another thing I did was start playing Pokémon Shining Pearl in Japanese. Do I understand anything? Nope! I understand a word or two here and there, and I look up any that appear frequently. So far I’ve learned maybe five words. It’s something, right? And I’m getting faster at reading hiragana/katakana (obviously I’m not playing with kanji lol). I also practise saying them time every time I look at the clock and the numbers when I win money from battles. I suck at numbers so I need that practice 😅

#progress report #language learning log #langblr #learning languages #norwegian langblr #japanese langblr

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drades-lair · 2 years

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Threes company

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairings: Blitzo/Striker, Millie/Moxxie, Millie/Moxxie/Striker

Ratings: M for sexual content

Blitz getting hung up on a job and bailing wasn’t anything unusual to Striker however when it happens on a night Blitz invited M&M to drink with them it was awkward. Striker hated having to drink alone with the two…well specifically he hated sharing a drink with Moxxie, Millie wasn’t so bad, but Striker still hadn’t really warmed up to Moxxie. If all that wasn’t enough as Striker sipped his whiskey an annoyingly familiar feeling started creeping over him, heat rising in his face and between his legs causing the pale imp to curse under his breath while yanking out his phone. Striker anxiously texted Blitz wondering when his mate would be back, explaining why Blitz needed to get back as soon as possible only to curse again at finding out Blitz wouldn’t be able to get back for at least two days.

“I can’t believe we got stuck drinking with Striker,” Moxxie groused

“Relax honey, Striker isn’t that bad,” Millie retorted in that usual cheery manner of hers.

“Easy for you to say he doesn’t relentlessly berate you,” Moxxie pointed out taking a sip of his Shirley temple.

“Oh hon, I’m sure he’s just teasin’…huh? Uh…Mox…do Ya smell that?” Millie wondered suddenly taking a deep inhale of the air.

“Smell what? All I smell is piss, smoke, and cheap booze,” Moxxie replied also sniffing the air.

“Smells like an imp in rut…a submissive one if I’m not mistaken,” Millie added continuing to sniff trying to track down where it was coming from.

“Oh, your right…wait, is it coming from…?” Moxxie agreed finally catching the scent, both imp’s noses led them in the same direction.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’! There’s no way,” Millie chuckled softly in disbelief as they both realized the scent was coming from Striker, confirmed slightly by the light hue of pink starting to cross the pale imp’s face.

“There must be some mistake. In what corner of hell is Striker a submissive imp?” Moxxie whispered to Millie.

“I don’t know but isn’t Blitz gonna be gone for a while yet?” Millie wondered as her expression turned to one of pity as she watched Striker’s tail twitch, and he started fidgeting in his seat a bit.

“Yeah, why?” Moxxie shot back arching an eyebrow in confusion to Millie’s question

“Well…I was just thinkin’…we’ve wanted to spice things up for a little while now and Striker looks like he could use a hand till Blitz gets back…” Millie trailed off in suggestion.

“What!? Are you serious?” Moxxie exclaimed

“Yes, come on babe. We both know what it’s like to go through a rut with out each other, how do you think he’s feelin’ without Blitz?” Millie insisted causing Moxxie to pause for a moment.

“Ugh, fine if that’s what you want to do, but I’m not asking,” Moxxie relented pinching the bridge of his nose. Timing couldn’t have been better as Striker finished his drink then stood up clearly preparing to leave, Millie put herself in the tall imp’s path to prevent him from leaving.

“Hold up,” Millie stated earning a genuine surprised look from the tall imp.

“Can I do somethin’ for Ya, Mildred?” Striker inquired raising an eyebrow

“Maybe~ Me and Mox are going to have a little fun tonight and I was wonderin’ if Ya wanted to join us?” Millie explained cheerily

“What!?” Striker wasn’t often taken completely off guard, but this was certainly one of those times.

“We figured with Ya goin’ in ta rut and all it’d be a win, win situation,” Millie continued

“Wait, Ya can smell it already? Shit!” Striker averted his gaze quickly as the blush deepened across his cheeks.

“It’s alright Hun, let us help Ya out,” Millie persisted adding a slight seductive tone to her voice. Striker seemed to struggle for a moment internally as to rather or not he should do this.

“Fine,” Striker agreed in a low tone after a few moments

“Well alright, and ta make it a lil more comfortable for Ya let’s go get a motel room,” Millie suggested

Striker didn’t say anything further simply followed the two smaller imps to a nearby motel where they promptly bought a room. Entering the room Striker wanted to immediately put on his façade unfortunately his instincts from the rut were already in full effect, ashamed yet horny Striker was starting to wonder if this had been a terrible idea.

“Striker, Hun,” Millie called snapping the pale imp out of his thoughts

“Hmm?” Striker acknowledged as he looked up to see Millie beckoning him over with a single finger.

“Come over here,” Millie instructed causing Striker to obey, walking over to stand in front of the smaller female imp.

“Good, now remove Yer coat, vest and shirt,” Millie instructed again and once again Striker obeyed removing the garments along with his hat, discarding them to the ground. Striker’s face was dusted with a deep pink blush and his pants were clearly getting uncomfortably tight in the front.

“Satisfied?” Striker inquired with a little sass in his voice.

“Very, hmm…now turn around,” Millie instructed

Striker did so then put his hands behind his back upon feeling Millie tugging on his arms, a rope was promptly wrapped around his wrists. Striker struggled for a moment from his instincts as a hitman, but quickly settled to allow Millie to bind him, overwhelmed by his primal instincts from the rut. Millie gently pushed on Striker’s shoulders till he knelt facing the bed with his back to Millie, who praised him for doing as told. Millie caressed her claws along Striker’s bare back eliciting a shudder before reaching around to undo his pants, caressing her other hand along Striker’s collar bone as Millie moved in front of the pale imp. Leaning down slightly Millie initiated a kiss that Striker swiftly returned, opening his mouth to allow Millie to deepen it only to moan into it as the smaller imp slipped her hand down his pants to stroke the outline of his length through the thin fabric of his underwear. Humming approvingly into the kiss Millie pulled Striker from his boxers, lazily stroking his already firm member at a steady pace as precum drooled from the tip.

“Oh…fuck!” Striker hissed out pulling from the kiss, panting softly with his eyes half lidded.

“Don’t worry Hun, we’ll take good care of Ya,” Millie cooed meeting Striker’s gaze as she continued to stroke, adding a twist near the head that made Striker bite his lower lip.

A few moments later a pair of hands wrapped around Striker’s torso, claws dragging slowly down his chest causing the taller imp to glance over his shoulder revealing Moxxie. The small male imp had stripped off all his clothing except his underwear and if what was pressing against his back was what he thought it was Striker was impressed. Moxxie trailed his mouth up Striker’s spine to his neck where he started nipping adding further sensation to Striker’s already pent-up system causing his breathing to pick up, hips rocking into Millie’s strokes.

“Easy Hun…stand up,” Millie instructed, removing her hand from Striker’s cock. Striker barely managed to hold back the whimper that bubbled up from Millie removing her hand from him, but he obeyed her command.

“Good, now bend over the bed,” Millie once more instructed

Striker hesitated for a moment at this command before obeying, he was still fighting against his rutting instincts internally after all he was with two imp’s he wasn’t used to having sex with. Millie got Moxxie’s help pulling Striker’s jeans off along with his underwear then stripped her own clothing off. Moxxie slipped down between Striker’s legs, wrapping his hand around the base of Striker’s cock to pick up where Millie left off causing Striker’s hips to jerk out of surprise along with an equally surprised yelp. Millie started caressing her claws over Striker’s hips down over his ass cheeks, switching to his thighs then back again eliciting wonderful little shivers with each pass.

“FUCK!” Striker exclaimed as Moxxie unexpectantly took his cock into his mouth, nearly deep throating the pale imp in one go. This was getting to be too much not that Striker wasn’t enjoying it, but rather that the mass of sensation was quickly shattering his façade allowing the submissive instincts from his rut to come through. Millie moved a hand to stroke the base of Striker’s tail while the other continued to lightly caress his hip with her claws and that was it…Striker let out a high-pitched whine as he pulled at the binds on his wrists. M&M’s efforts faltered for a moment at hearing the uncharacteristic sound from Striker before continuing.

“Wow, that rut is hittin’ Ya hard, ain’t it sweety?” Millie asked rhetorically just as Moxxie pulled off Striker with a slight cough.

“Ya good down there Mox?” Millie asked a little concerned

“Yeah, he’s producing so much precum though I can’t keep up with the blowjob,” Moxxie nonchalantly explained

“Really?” Millie asked raising both eyebrows in surprise only to look up to see Striker turn a darker shade of red.

“I-I’m…part…incubus…” Striker panted out, averting his gaze from Millie whose expression shifted to one of understanding.

“Oh, that explains a lot. Mox, why don’t you move up there then and I’ll continue back here,” Millie suggested

Moxxie knew exactly what Millie was suggesting immediately moving around to crawl onto the bed, settling in front of Striker’s face on his haunches. Moxxie pulled his underwear down his hips to release his hard member causing Striker to swallow hard with a sharp intake of breath before slowly opening his mouth allowing the smaller male to guide his cock into it. Striker did his best to suck Moxxie off however it wasn’t easy in this position, but it seemed to suffice as the smaller imp began to softly moan. Millie hummed approvingly while continuing to caress her claws over Striker’s ass, using her tail to search Moxxie’s pockets for the small bottle of lube they brought eventually finding it. Popping open the cap Millie slicked up her one hand then set the bottle on the floor.

“F-Fuck…you’re great at giving head,” Moxxie moaned out

“Hun, Ya might want to have him pull off for a moment,” Millie suggested

“Yeah,” Moxxie agreed having seen Millie lube up her hand

Gently Moxxie encouraged Striker to pull off eliciting a confused expression from the pale imp right before Millie inserted a single finger into him. Striker jerked in surprise with a breathy whimpering moan, eyes screwing shut as he bit down on his bottom lip. Striker’s entire body tensed as Millie started thrusting her digit in a steady pace until once again Striker’s rutting instinct took over making him give in, relaxing with a breathy exhale. Millie inserted a second finger easily as Striker began to quiver with desperate soft moans that he directed into the bedspread beneath him, cheeks hot with embarrassment and arousal as he completely succumb to his submissive instincts brought on by his rut.

“That should do…unfortunately I don’t have my equipment here but I’m sure Moxxie can oblige,” Millie explained pulling her fingers free of Striker’s ass. Moxxie crawled off the bed to move towards Millie while she encouraged Striker to flip over and lay on the bed. Striker did as told revealing he was flushed from face to mid chest with sweat beading along his pale skin, panting heavily as he averted his gaze from the two smaller imps.

“Take it easy sweetie, like I said we’re gonna take good care of Ya. Now, crook and spread Yer legs,” Millie gently instructed

Once again Striker hesitated for a moment before obeying the instruction, crooking his legs up then spreading them. Moxxie grabbed the lube bottle to slick up his cock before moving between Striker’s legs, pulling the taller imp’s hips to the edge of the bed. Gingerly Moxxie lined up then pressed into Striker making him groan out, tipping his head backwards. Moxxie continued to push forwards inch by inch till he was hilted inside Striker, stopping for a moment to allow them both to adjust although Millie got a little concerned at seeing Striker’s heavy breathing and the way he was clenching his teeth. Millie gently caressed a hand over Striker’s upper arm to get his attention.

“Ya alright Hun? Maybe Mox should pull out for a moment…” Millie began before being cut off by Striker

“N-No! Ugh…just…please…” Striker out right pleaded, locking eyes with Millie.

“Okay, okay…calm down sweetie,” Millie reassured Striker, caressing over his collar bone to his chest.

“I…need…it,” Striker stammered out averting his gaze

Moxxie simply nodded in understanding then started rolling his hips before starting to thrust starting shallow yet steady. Millie crawled onto the bed beside Striker to settle on her haunches using one hand to fondle her breast while the other dipped between her legs, two fingers slipping inside her wet pussy. Striker’s moans got louder the closer he got to Cumming, a puddle of precum collecting on his stomach as Moxxie hoisted Striker’s legs towards the tall imp’s chest to start thrusting deeply. Millie timed her finger thrusts with Moxxie’s moving her second hand from her breast to fondle her clit, quickly building her own orgasm. Millie came first with a moaning cry, hips stuttering as she worked herself through the orgasmic high. Striker was cursing a blue streak through heavy panting breaths, cock throbbing desperate for release as Moxxie sped up. Whipping his head to the side Striker squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach clenched, back arching slightly with a whimpering moan at the feeling of release washing over him while threads of white cum painted his stomach and chest. Moxxie felt Striker clench around him upon Cumming promptly pulling his own release out of him moments later, spilling into Striker with a groaning moan.

Moxxie pulled out once his senses had a moment to reboot, lowering Striker’s legs while Millie helped the taller imp sit up so she could cut the rope around his wrists. Striker’s rut haze seemed to have cleared a little although it didn’t seem to be necessarily a good thing, rubbing his wrists Striker refused to make eye contact with either smaller imp.

“Everythin’ Alright?” Millie asked gently

“Humph, Ya must find this an absolute riot,” Striker scoffed

“Whatchya mean?” Millie wondered, arching an eyebrow in confusion

“Don’t fuckin’ act like Ya don’t know! Watchin’ me turn into some simpering submissive bitch!” Striker barked back irritably

“Striker, it’s fine. We know it’s only because of Yer rut…” Millie began

“Humph, fuckin’ things a pain in the ass,” Striker groused out

“Look, we know you don’t want anyone else to know about this and we promise to not say anything,” Millie assured Striker with a warm smile

“Really?” Striker whipped his head over to Millie in complete surprise at what she just said.

“Yeah, tonight was purely between the three of us,” Millie once again assured him

“Um…thanks…I guess…” Striker awkwardly thanked the little imp

After a cool down period, the three had a couple more rounds as Striker’s rut continued before falling asleep in the room. The next day Blitz had managed to make it to the motel just as M&M were leaving, pointing him in the direction of the room Striker was still staying in.

#Helluvaboss #Helluvabossfanfiction #HelluvabossStriker #helluvabossBlitzo #HelluvabossMillie #HelluvabossMoxxie #BlitzoxStriker #MilliexMoxxie #MilliexMoxxiexStriker #humor #smut

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batpham-discord-highlights · 2 years

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Spider-verse Meets BatPham

Source: ghosts-bats-and-more

Fandoms: DP, Batman, and Spiderman (heavy on the Spiderman)

Batpham plus 3 spiders au: Post nwh spider bros get sent to a universe where no one knows Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

they restart their lives in a new New York and take turns, resulting in Spider-Man becoming a cryptid because sometimes he's a teen, a 29 year old, or a 40 year old.

(When the Bats find out, a betting pool comes into play)

Okay but like I gotta know what they do for names when out of the mask. Clearly they're the Parker brothers but like, are they all still Peter or does any of them have a braincell to come up with aliases?

Okay, but what if it was 4 peters

If we add in 🅱️eter

🅱️ eter and Peter 2 are the dad and mom friends respectively lol

🅱️eter is dad friend supreme

Bruce is somewhat happy that he has someone to relate to (???), with 🅱️eter being in the business for so long, but he's still confused as to why there are so many Peters here

🅱️ eter: eh, you get used to it

Actor names I guess? that's the names given to them in the spider-verse blog I co-run

Alternatively: Burger, Peter, Benjamin and Parker, from oldest to youngest

Or Burrito

I think Burrito is better for 🅱️eter

It's what the B stands for

Burrito! that's the nickname they gave him to differentiate him from RIParker

(aka the blond dead one)

RIP in Peter

Wait

Rest in Peter 😔

You have Burrito, Pigter, and angst man

Imagine a Batpham crossover with comic Peter

Mr. Peter "I have reset the universe before, have no real weaknesses and am radioactive, fight me" Parker

His weakness is thinking fast

YGKJFINS

They have spidey sense but not common sense

In the wiki, his weaknesses are: Pesticides, bad luck, can't drive and anti-venom

That's... That's all the spiders...

they all share one braincell and it died with RIPeter

Parker Luck ™️ caused them to be discovered in this universe

Gwen would've been the next braincell holder, but even she hasn't seen it in years

mhm

Tom Peter lost braincell privileges for erasing himself from his universe's memory

Tobey's Peter got rid of it with that dance...

Andrew's Peter never even had it, except for the smort moments

They don't let Mom (Tobey) Peter or Dad (Beter) Peter live those dances down

I have one more question about the au: do they coordinate to wear matching suits in Gotham or do they have their variations still there? Cause the conspiracy theorist within every batfam member would be on high alert over that

small variations

to tell each other apart

(also the Bats have different suits, it's not out of the ordinary for them to switch yknow?)

Makes sense

It's tiny little variations, but conspiracy theorists are constantly confused, because they swore that Spider-Man just left??? Why is he back????? And again???????

and why does he seem older???

Also, another little fun thing is that all the spiders are connected spiritually

Why does that guy have a gut and is tall as shit, but then this one is tiny as can be

Danny thinks Spider-Man is a ghost

for the betting pool

Like clockwork

Just shifts between stages of life

WHAT IF ALL THE PETERS KIND OF SET OFF DANNY'S GHOST SENSE???

Because they're all spiritual and have probably died at some point

Comics Peter died like 3 times

TOM'S PETER WAS SNAPPED SO DOES THAT COUNT???

Danny: why do you set off my ghost sense? Are you dead?

Beter: haha only on the inside

Tom: I was in Soul World for 5 years?

Comics Peter was shot with a ton of sedatives and then buried alive by Kraven, killed by Otto after Superior Spider-Man, and also by Wade

oh yeah the body switch thingy

Batman being Batman decides to investigate

Batman tracks one Spiderman back to an apartment only to find a whole herd of Peters eating cheap ramen together.

pfffft

there is also a hanger rack filled with other suits of various designs and sizes

Trying to think quick they claim to be in town for a convention and they're cosplayers

Batman: Then why did Spider-Man come here?

Tom Peter: To hide his identity?

Other spideys ^

Batman: Then why am I hearing reports on Spider-Man changing ages and heights?

Batman doesn't know whether to believe him or not because how on earth is such a vigilante so dumb??? There's no way

it gets more suspicious when they introduce themselves as Parker

Batman: why are there so many Parker's?

All the Peter's: ...large family?

A bajillion Parkers and one Ben Reilly

Comic: He's our cousin.

Danny: I heard that excuse before....why does he look identical to you?

Ben: Because families are always identical in blood and genetics?

Comic: It's not like the Spider-Verse is real...

Burrito: facepalm

Kaine: Haha, suckers

Comic: Shut it Kaine.

Kaine is just sitting there with 'imperfect clone' trauma

Dani relates

Batman: Why do you go back to one specific tattoo parlor for the same tattoo a lot?

Kaine: ......

Kaine: I have the right to remain silent

Comic: HA

Kaine sets off Danny's ghost sense the most because he's the spideriest

Danny: You taste of angsty spiders and lots of cobwebs

Kaine: how do you even know what those taste like

Danny is the spider detector

Tries to use the thermos on them cause spiders be sus

It doesn't work

What if he could make his ghost sense change how it looks depending on who it is

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Danny, opening his mouth as 17 ghost sense spiders crawl out again, with narrowed eyes: Spider-Man

Porker pops up out of nowhere: And Ham!

Alternative to this au, it's reversed

Batpham and Danny end up in one of the spider's universes

Probably 616's

Just because Jameson

JJJ would have a field day

J. J. J.: There has been a recent influx of weird vigilantes. Could this be the cause of Spider-Man?

Danny: yo what

Peter: How is this my fault this time?!?!

Peter, getting ready to adopt Danny: Ah, I see

Danny is very adoptable

Nightwing: Back off we had him first.

Peter: And??? I'm a New Yorker

Tim, whispering to Bruce: Watch out, he's a new yorker

Giving him Ditko's Peter attitude,, he would be too powerful

Little pissy man against rich bajillionaire

yes

and back to the original idea: many pissy spiders vs one paranoid bat

They're overprotective little bastards and everyone is concerned

Batman vs all the webbing they leave around from swinging

To quote something I heard in a video a while ago: "The villains reflect a bit of what the protagonist has; Batman villains are masterminds with personas, Spider-Man villains are spiteful nerds"

But then again it adds to the city's spoopy aesthetic

lol yeah

although it dissappears after a few hours

and it depends which fluid a spider uses

sometimes it's organic, other times? nope

they ask Spider-Man how it works several times and get varied answers

Batman: how does the web fluid work?

Spider-Man: Good question

Spider-man: It depends what kind of fluid I use

Spider-man: It's always different

Also depends on the universe

#ghosts bats and more channel #spiderverse #batman #danny phantom #danny fenton #bruce wayne #tim drake #nightwing #dick grayson #lots of peters #more marvel than anything really #dp x marvel #batman x marvel

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n: This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert

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starlessea · 3 years

Text

"Don’t Cry”

A/N This started off as a drabble, but I got carried away and it turned into a one-shot. I’m really happy with how this one turned out! Based on number #39 from this prompt list for @phoenixblack89

Summary: Daryl hates seeing your tears. He’d much rather see you smiling, instead.

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee

Atlanta High School.

You’d graduated a long while back — so long ago now that you’d forgotten the feeling of walking its halls, and having your shoes squeak against the cheap wooden planks.

You could see the rows of lockers you’d chatted by daily, and the one in particular where you’d shared your first kiss with a boy whose name you couldn’t remember. The doors of the classrooms seemed familiar, as did the posters on the walls which were the same as they’d been when you attended — something about washing your hands and remembering to vote for class president.

It was as though time stood still.

And, in this very moment, there was nothing you wished for more.

Daryl’s hand was warm on your cheek, and his thumb gentle as he drew faint circles over your skin. You leaned into his touch, the same way you’d done with that boy against your locker — not even a few feet away.

But this was different.

This was Daryl.

Your lips quivered, trembling like a leaf stuck in the wind. Your hands felt numb as they pressed against him, so hard that you thought they would bruise. But all you could hear were those damn lockers — their doors slamming open and closed as they caught in the draft.

Like a sarcastic fucking applause.

Daryl tilted your head up, gently guiding your gaze from his collar to his face, where your eyes caught his. And your breath died in your throat, before bubbling into a sob that rang out in the air like the Atlanta High School bell.

He was smiling.

“Don’t cry,” he said — in the most calm, accepting tone you’d ever heard a person speak. It lacked all of his usual bite, the gruffness you’d come to know and associate with the man.

It sounded foreign.

Maybe that was why, despite his words, the tears poured over anyway, and settled on your cheeks where he swiped them away with a flick of his thumb.

“I wan’-” he started, but paused for a second to grimace from the pain. “I wanna remember ya smilin’.”

You choked on another watery cry, shaking your head away from his gentle hold, as you returned your focus to his wound.

The bite on his collarbone was deep, gushing blood quicker than you could soak it up with the tattered remnants of your jacket. His skin was a stark, vermillion red, as were your hands, as was the floor, as were those fucking lockers where you’d smeared his blood as you tried to carry him to safety.

Everything was red, red, red.

You pressed more firmly, soaking it up with fluttering hands that burnt from the sheer heat of his skin. He felt like a match having been set alight — burning brilliantly beneath your palms as you tried your best to quell the flames.

Daryl rested his hand over yours, engulfing it. “Listen to me, ” he rasped — and you panicked at how much more weak his voice was sounding — “there’s flares in my rucksack.”

He glanced over your shoulder, at the abandoned bag sitting near your feet. It was stuffed with supplies from the school — all of which were now completely useless, and nowhere near worth his goddamn life.

Sweat beaded on his skin, and collected in the dips of his collar — like little pools of salt water.

He squeezed your hand. “Ya gotta get to the roof an’ flag down Rick,” he told you, his smile dropping from his face as he became much more serious. “He’ll come for ya.”

Your hands stilled over the wound for a second, easing their pressure as you took in the man’s words. Then he flashed those eyes at you, which begged for you not to argue.

But you did.

You kicked out your leg behind you, sending that backpack sliding across those cheap wooden planks, and making it thud against a locker. You didn’t need the flares.

You just needed Daryl.

“I can’t-” you yelled, but your voice split, and the man quickly hushed you before it got too loud. After all, the dead had you surrounded. “I’m not leaving you behind,” you spluttered.

Your tone was frantic, panicked, desperate.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding underneath your palms, where you pressed down against it. It was as though you held his heart in your hands — and he’d probably argue that you always had.

Daryl shook his head smally, careful not to disturb the bite further. “An’ ya can’t take me with ya,” he replied.

No, you thought, you would carry him out if it killed you, you would fight your way through, and get him to the infirmary, and you could-

“I ain’t gonna make it, baby girl,” he whispered, “‘m sorry.”

And you broke.

Suddenly, you were aware of the flickering overhead lights that made his skin look so clammy, so sickly. You were conscious of the blood smear trail he’d left behind — that vibrant scarlet which reminded you of a burning sunset — and the pounding at the doors, and the feet squeaking on those floorboards like the lunchtime rush between classes.

“You will!” you yelled, not at all caring about how loud you’d gotten. “You have to, Daryl,” you cried, pleadingly.

His hand felt so warm that it made yours seem cold. It felt like you were the one dying — your heart shattering each time he took a wheezed breath, or flinched in pain.

“How am I-” you asked, but by now your voice had tapered off to a mere whisper. You shook your head. There was no question about it. “I can’t go on without you,” you told him.

You could hear the blood rushing to your ears as your breaths got away from you — too shallow and too sparse. Daryl looked worse each passing minute, his olive skin now a translucent grey.

He took both of your hands in his, making you drop your jacket, as blood seeped through the material of his shirt. You tried to fight against him, eyeing the trail of red as it ran along his collar like a stream, but he kept a hold of your wrists firmly — with the little strength he had left.

“Ya can,” he growled — the grit to his voice causing you to instantly still — “an’ ya will.”

And he flashed those eyes at you again, but this time they had his usual spark behind them.

“Yer the damn strongest woman I e’er met,” he went on, letting his grip loosen on your wrists ever so slightly, “‘m jus’ happy a dumb ol’ redneck like me got to spend a couple good years with ya.”

Then, he smiled.

“It was fun.”

He let your hands drop out of his, no longer having any fight left. But instead, you used them to clamber onto his lap, wrapping them around his torso as you buried your head deep into his chest — his warm, red chest.

“Please don’t talk like that!” you cried, your words muffled by his clothes and lost to his skin.“I’m not going anywhere! I want to stay with you-”

“Nah, that ain’t happenin’,” he snapped — but his hand remained light on your head, gently stroking your hair in his attempts to calm you. “I swear to god, I’ll haunt yer ass if ya dare pull somethin’ tha’ stupid.”

But you grabbed onto his shirt until your knuckles flashed white, bunching up the material in your fists like you couldn’t bear to part with it. It smelt like him — underneath the coppery scent of fresh blood.

Slowly, he tried to coax you out, but you could feel the way his hands shook, and it only made everything worse. Those hands had always been strong — had always been the ones to pick you up and set you back on your feet every time you fell.

“Look a’ me,” he pleaded, his voice croaky. He tilted your chin up again, in the same way he did every time he went to kiss you — and it made your heart hurt, because no kiss followed. “C’mon now, don’ cry,” he whispered, his breath much too hot against your skin, “‘m here.”

“But you won’t be,” you wailed, the words startling you as they crept out from your mouth.

You hadn’t wanted to admit them.

“But I am now,” Daryl replied, just as quick. “So please jus’ smile for me, would ya?”

His hand fell down to your waist, before rubbing small circles in the small of your back — just how he did every morning to wake you up.

You couldn’t do it, but you needed to do it.

For Daryl.

You uncurled yourself from his chest, and wiped away the fresh tears with your shirt, blinking away the rest. You moved in his lap until you were face to face, trying not to catch a glimpse of his wound which continued to pour red.

Then, you finally smiled back at him.

It was wobbly, and forced, but it was wide — and full of love.

“Atta girl,” he choked back, his voice breaking for the first time.

You couldn’t tell whether his glassy eyes were from the fever, or the pain, or from you, but you bit your lip either way.

Don’t cry, you told yourself, and watched as he did.

“Yer so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, raising his thumb to the corner of your lips. It was as callous as always, but at this moment it only felt soft. “I was one lucky son o’ a bitch,” he declared, with a warm smile.

You raised your hands in return, cupping his face and feeling his beard tickle over your palms — thinking back to the times you complained at how unkempt it was. His forehead dropped down onto yours, and the heat from his skin radiated outwards, setting you ablaze as you touched.

“I love you, Dixon,” you confessed, as though it were the first time and not the last. “Now and always.”

The overhead lights hummed as they flickered like camera flashes, and the pounding at the door became more incessant.

So, you drowned everything out with a press of your lips to his — as Daryl tilted your head up in the way he always did, and gave you one final kiss which tasted like seasalt and copper. It was underneath the locker where you’d had your first kiss, but now it marked your last one with the man you loved most in this world.

“Me too,” Daryl whispered, as you broke apart. He glanced over your shoulder once again, at the discarded backpack across the hall. “Now get outta here before they break through.”

You stumbled to your feet violently, needing a strong, stark shock to actually be enough to pull you away from the man for good.

And you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t. If you so much as caught a glimpse of those angel wings or heard as little as a breath escape his mouth, you wouldn’t have left.

And that would’ve killed Daryl in more ways than one.

So, you retrieved the backpack, and opened the fire escape door a few feet away, before slipping behind it, and sliding down to your knees.

The concrete cut your skin open, and once again you were confronted with red.

A cry escaped you, which morphed into a wail as you clutched your chest and tried to fix the bleeding happening inside it — the red that you couldn’t see.

But a shout startled you, and ceased your sobs as soon as they sounded.

“Don’ cry!” Daryl’s voice yelled, muffled by the metal door but still strong, and guttural, and fierce. “I can hear ya!”

So, you picked yourself back up, and set yourself on your feet in the same way he’d taught you how — and you ran for the roof, flare in hand.

Atlanta High School always had the best rooftop view.

The sunset stretched out in the distance, one of brilliant vermillion, and warm, copper orange. The balcony was the same as you remembered, with high metal railings to keep students from jumping, or getting too close to that view.

This roof had been the place where you’d yelled about hating this place, this town, this state — and had cried out to the sky about wishing to anywhere but here.

But now you didn’t want to leave.

Because your everything was right here.

You held the flare in your hand, wondering what colours it would burst and illuminate the sky — whilst praying it would be anything other than red.

You let off the flare, and a single gunshot followed.

End.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

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A/N Blame Jess and Shannon for the increase in angst.

But I’m glad to be getting more comfortable with writing it!

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