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#jesus christ you guys are gonna ruin me
shhh-secret-time · 2 months
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This just in local Golden Retriver boy bags the baddest bitch in South Park with his lovesick puppy ways. Good for them fr fr
Hey uh, more people in this community keep being nice to me. And it's no secret that I love drawing OCs and ships. So @theartichrist I hope I drew her right. She's so fucking pretty!
They remind me of Orange 🍊 and Grape 🍇 Fanta!
Here's the link to the base I used. I saw it and I couldn't resist.
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arundolyn · 2 years
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ngl i sometimes forget cishet nerdbros exist and are the only ones who like kenny pretty much, like to the point of nigh worship, which is like On Brand. these bitches like genuinely try to make him some kind of christ figure almost as if he doesnt fucking suck terribly and is mediocre and iirc its never even CONFIRMED confirmed he ever did the one good merciful act that he ever SEEMED to and put him in We Don’t Know If He Died limbo. and its very funny also how they hate anyone who rightfully calls kenny out on being an ass and say theyre weak cowards (BEN. BEN. BEN.) or evil and lying (JANE! WHO WAS FUCKING CORRECT ALWAYS! YOU HATE HER CAUSE SHES RIGHT). anyone who killed jane over kenny is wrong and a coward and he dies anyway so die mad.
admittedly there is SOME nuance and depth to kenny’s character for sure. but these people are just straight up making shit up completely all the time. cope and seethe die mad etc etc your cool white guy died. boo hoo. which is really funny these were probably the same bitches crying when vasco wasnt playable anymore in indivisible and replaced by a cooler black man and genuinely got big baby mad when there was not a playable white man anymore. that happened
#crow.txt#yes the game is about making choices But there are wrong choices (picking kenny over literally anyone else for anything ever)#IDK HE SUCKS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO JUSTFIY IT! HE SUCKS IN S2! DIE MAD IDC!#idk idc i dont give a god damn kenny aint shit and never was. kenny fans are the signora mains of twdg#twdgposting#jane also dies anyway to be fair but i mean at least it wasnt as insane and gruesome i suppose? for her at least?#and its sadder imo. whatever whatever kenny whatever the fuck jane literally like hung herself from the ceiling fan. which like#iirc it was on. and i feel terrible for laughing. but like she was literally slowly rotating. as a zombie. im mad it was so fucked up#but in my brain it was funny just looking back. like it was shocking but did you have to do it in the funniest way possible. girl.#not to mention kenny like. being southern Obviously. says some fucking WILD shit a few times#and implies some wild ass shit that i dont appreciate. idk abt yall but im not gonna side with the racist redneck guy#hes literally the type to own a confederate flag. i bet he did in the first draft of the game#idk unpopular opinion i like ben and im fucked up over like..... sure i get why kenny was pissed. but jesus fucking christ have some empathy#you arent the fucking protagonist surprise surprise! though he sure does want to be#these are the kind of people who saw ben standing up for himself and somehow didnt like. care. which i cannot fathom#like honestly kenny aint fucking shit!!!!!!!!!! im actually mad now#ben went through sooooo much worse. like a LOT fucking worse. but its always about kenny of course.#kenny apparently goes so far as to praise lee if he lets ben fucking die in crawford which. fuck you for that#and ben CLEARLY feels fucking TERRIBLE about it the whole time and is absolutely riddled with guilt after he ruins kenny's family#and is honestly just kinda telling people to kill him after cause he feels he deserves it and shit. and then his death IS sad as fuck#if you spared him from falling in the bell tower thing. like arguably worse than breaking his legs and being eaten alive maybe#idk i just like the cringe little failboy. he was doing his best. BEN did nothing wrong actually i think. kenny genuinely sucked#ben was just scared and confused. justice for ben 2k22.#like even after the supposed mercy kill kenny shit talks him postmortem after purportedly starting to understand him#what is his fucking issue. didnt ben literally like JUST graduate from high school. if he had graduated at all. christ i hate kenny.#...and also the nerdbro kenny obsession is totally cause hes like the white guy power fantasy every dude like that has in apocalypse setting#theyre always Cool and Right and doing the Best For Who They Care About while being a fucking asshole to everyone else#and from the outside seeming like an utter fucking tool in spite of the times they do good. cant stand him#hot takes from me today i guess?
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership
And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”
Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle
Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...
Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?
Alastor: sureeeeee
And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit
and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”
And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)
I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3
A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.
Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.
Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)
Master Lists:
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Hazbin Hotel Master List
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"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.
The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.
"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."
Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.
"Sure." she teased.
"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.
"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."
Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.
It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.
"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.
Y/n just shrugged.
"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."
Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.
"Sure."
They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.
Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.
He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.
Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.
"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."
Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.
"What a shame."
Y/n laughed lightly.
"I don't think so. It works well enough."
"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."
"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"
Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.
"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.
"Oh?" Y/n asked.
She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.
"Yep."
"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.
"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."
"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."
"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."
She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.
"Are you proposing we work together?"
"You're the one who said it, not me."
Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.
"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"
"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."
Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.
"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."
Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.
"Deal."
Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.
As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.
It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.
They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.
"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.
Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.
"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."
"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.
Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.
"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."
"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.
"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."
"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."
Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.
"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.
"Oh this is totally a date."
"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.
She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.
"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.
"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."
"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.
"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."
Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.
"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."
Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.
"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.
"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.
"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"
"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.
Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.
"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"
"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."
"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."
Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.
"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"
"Blue eyes?"
"Umm... yeah."
"Yep, that was me."
"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."
Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.
The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.
They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.
Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.
That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.
Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.
Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.
At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.
"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Y/n."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."
Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.
"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"
Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.
"What, you fucking want some too?"
Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.
Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.
"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.
"He what?"
"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."
Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.
"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.
At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.
"Well, he's definitely dead."
Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.
"He deserved it."
Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.
"Can you walk me home?"
Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.
"Of course, my dear."
They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.
No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.
"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."
"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."
"I... It's about Y/n."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"
"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."
"Spill."
"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."
"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."
"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"
"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"
"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."
"I thought your dad was dead?"
"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."
"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"
"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."
"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"
"Just something, okay?"
"I have got to quiz her about this."
"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."
"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"
"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."
"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"
"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.
"What are you, twelve?"
"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"
She sighed.
"Alastor, you have a crush on her."
A beat.
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."
"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.
This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.
"Are you sure?"
"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."
"Fuck."
Mimzy laughed.
"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."
"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."
"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."
Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.
Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.
When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.
Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.
Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.
"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."
"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."
"The way... he ran?"
"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.
Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.
"Didn't you see?" she asked again.
"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."
"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."
She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.
"Alastor."
Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.
He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.
There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.
They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.
"I-"
"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Are you going to try to kill me again?"
"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."
Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.
"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."
"We will not be swingers."
Y/n laughed.
"Just had to make that clear."
"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2
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skylarsblue · 1 year
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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦
Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*
-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-
-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-
-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…
-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.
-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-
-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-
-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!
-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)
-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.
-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-
-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.
-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.
-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.
-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-
-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.
-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-
-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?
-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.
(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)
-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.
-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.
-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.
--
(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.
-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.
-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!
-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-
-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.
-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.
-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.
-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.
-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!
-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.
-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.
-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*
-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*
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maybankluvrrr · 3 months
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games
rafe cameron x fem!reader (18+)
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warnings: dom!rafe (has soft moments), mentions of vaping, mentions of consent, oral sex (m receiving)
summary: rafe plays little games with you to win back your vape. you are sarah’s long time friend, but with her gone with the pogues, you’ve grown fond of spending time with rafe.
you and rafe have been hanging out as friends since sarah betrayed you guys and left obx with the john b and the rest of the pogues. you’ve always had a thing for rafe, but he’s rafe. first of all, he was your best friends brother and also he was known for his anger issues, freak outs, and overall fuck boy energy. you steered clear of ever catching real feelings for rafe so you wouldn’t ruin your friendship with sarah and to protect your own sanity from his issues. but now with ward and sarah gone, both of your “issues” have fleeted and it’s just the two of you.
rafe just got out of the shower and he gets dressed. when he leaves his room, he finds your vape sitting on the banister of the stairs. thinking you must be preoccupied with some other activity since your vape isn’t glued to your hand. he decides to put it into the pocket of his board shorts and play a little game with you.
he steps down the stairs and sees you’re lounging on the cameron’s big white couch in the living room in the house that now all belongs to rafe, meaning it’s just the two of you in the mansion. you’re watching the olympics gymnastics tournament. rafe couldn’t give a single fuck about whatever your watching and is just excited to mess with u.
“fuck!” you scream when the gymnast messes up on her routine on the bars.
“sheesh, someone’s pressed.” rafe walks in taunting you. “it’s just a fucking girl swinging on bars in a leotard.”
“rafe shut the fuck up, i’m watching.”
rafe’s tongues caves through his cheek, “shit, i thought you knew better than to speak to me this way.”
“i’m sorry just let me watch this.” all worked up, you start patting on your pockets, “for god’s sake, where’s my fucking vape.” you say to yourself.
rafe sits across from you with a smirk on his face, knowing he has your precious little nicotine in his back pocket. he lets you flail around and tear up the couch looking for it for a good 5 minutes until you scream, “jesus fucking christ!! where is this fucking thing.” at this point you’ve gone into the kitchen, sarah’s bedroom that you’ve been staying in some nights, and every bathroom and corner of this house looking for your vape.
you walk back into the living to find rafe man spreading on the couch with your vape hanging out of his mouth with a smirk painted on his face. he chuckles at you as the smoke flies out of his mouth. “this strawberry ice tastes mad good.” he mutters with that same stupid smirk on his face, taking the vape in his hand and looking at it, then back up at you.
“funny” you say sarcastically, walking over to rafe and reaching your hand out to grab the vape out of his hand when he tries to place it back into his mouth, but your stopped when his other hand grabs your wrist.
“sweetheart, it’s not gonna be that easy.” dropping your wrist from his grip.
“rafe, im not fucking around i need it right now” you say desperately, “im not playing fucking games right now. we can share if you want i just ne-”
“y/n” he cuts you off “i think we both know just what you need” he puts the vape into his mouth taking a long hit.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you say, scared he can read your mind. you’ve need rafe for a long time.
“don’t play dumb. why the fuck else would you be staying in my house like every other day for the past 2 weeks. you just have a need to sleep in your estranged best friends room all the fucking time? which happens to be 2 doors down from mine?”
“i-” you say speechless.
“you what.”
“rafe i always fucking liked you okay!!” you finally say.
“there she is.” rafe says dragging out the e at the end of there. taunting you. again.
“there. ok, i said it. can i have my vape back now??”
he continues to take puffs of it all while you’ve been talking, knowing you’ll do anything to get it back.
“i’m not fucking playing games rafe.” you say again.
“who’s the one with the vape? it’s me. sit.” he demands.
you’re weak for rafe and he knows this. you sit next to him on the couch. he waves the vape in front of his face, thinking of what you could do for him to earn your prized possession back. rafes been showing you his soft side the past couple weeks, thinking you were only there to you know, keep the memories of your old friend now that she ran away, but you knew he had to crack eventually. this sweet get up was not gonna last long.
“y/n, there’s one thing you could do to get this little thing back.”
“yeah..?” you say curiously.
“suck my dick.” he says an inch away from your ear.
“rafe..” you say while he kisses your jawline.
“baby, if you don’t want it just say that. i’m really fucking with you, i-if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” he stammers in between kisses. “can’t be playing too many games with you, gotta get consent.”
you turn to face him completely and smash your lips against his, confirming your consent.
you’re now straddling his lap, forgetting completely about your vape and why you ended up in this position. you’re making out sloppily and his hands are roaming around every inch of you body that is shown through your tee shirt and short-shorts. you begin to grind your needy cunt into his dick getting him hard. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger now. you’re blinded in a haze of lust, wanting this for so long.
“so do i have your consent?” he abruptly says breaking this kiss. you scoff and keep kissing him. wiping that stupid smirk off of his face.
“on the floor.” he says. you kneel down onto the floor and unbutton his shorts. stroking him through his thin boxers feeling his impressive length, you got him pretty hard during your make out session by all the grinding over his shorts. you rub his hard dick while looking up at him. “hurry up, baby” he says.
“who’s the needy one now?” you say with a smirk.
“yeah, yeah.” his hands stroking through your hair and bunching it up to keep his grip on your head.
you hastily pull down his boxers and his hard on springs up to hit his stomach. you stroke up and down his length watching the pre-cum spill out of his tip. you slowly lick up the sides of his cock, eliciting small grunts out of rafe. his hand grips your hair harder, hinting at you to hurry the fuck up.
your eyes meet his, and your mouth reaches the tip of his massive length and your hand works the base of his dick since your mouth can’t fit it all.
he pushes your head down further, fucking into your mouth while your hands fondle with his balls. “fuck why did we wait so long for this shit, your mouth his fucking amazing.”
you hum on his dick in response, sending vibrations through his body, letting out yet another grunt from his lips.
he continues fucking into your mouth, “i’m close i’m so fucking close. fuck!!” you feel his dick twitch in your mouth, your mouth finally bottoming him out due to the pressure of his hand on your head and the pleasure this is giving you. the tip of your nose is hitting his stomach while he fucks up into your mouth one last time before his load shoots up into your mouth. “swallow” he says. and of course, you do. “good fucking girl.”
you pick your head up from his long shaft, catching your breath. his hands stroking through your hair trying to calm you down. “shit was i too hard on you?”
you’re too foggy to respond to that question. “where’s my vape?” you say instead.
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ot3 · 3 months
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Hi, I just finished the AA trilogy with my bf and we fell in love with it! I found your blog the other day, and it sometimes feels like you're the only one giving correct takes on these characters' writing and the minutiae of everyone's inner worlds (or the fumbling of, see Godot).
I just got here, but, something that's been bothering me about the fandom's approach to the sequel trilogy is like... the imperialist undertones are glossed over, or swept under the rug. Researching "The Dark Age of the Law" and beyond puts a sour taste in my mouth. And with Khura'in the country vs Kurain the village? It all feels racist at best (the concept of the Divination Seance gives me squick). If you have the time, I'd love to hear your thoughts about AA5 and AA6 in relation to the world of AA as a whole. Thanks again for all of your thoughtful and nuanced takes on this series!
so glad to hear you guys liked the games!! thank you for enjoying my posts, i always appreciate it.
the tl;dr of it is that i do think they are genuinely bad enough additions to the franchise that they have signed mainline ace attorney's death warrant. picking out the dark age of the law stuff and aa5 and the imperialism in aa6 you've pretty much honed right in on my two biggest critiques
however i do want to say that although they're being bundled and sold as a 'second trilogy' that's not quite accurate either experientially when playing the games or from a development perspective. aa4 had scenario design/creative direction by series creator shu takumi, with the art director being kazuya nuri (responsible for character design for rise from the ashes in the series previous to this); aa5+6 was spearheaded by takeshi yamazaki, who had been with the franchise since its first game, with the slightly less tenured takuro fuse on art direction/character design. yamazaki and fuse are not without skill, but i think they're both significantly less skilled than takumi and nuri respectively and. it really shows.
pair that with the fact that aa5 and 6 fundamentally do not follow up on any of ace attorney 4's established characters or plots more than superficially, i don't think it's particularly useful to critique 4-5-6 as if they're a single body of work in the same way the trilogy is. apollo justice isn't a perfect* ace attorney game but it's a good one.
anyway i think buying into the 'dark age of the law' stuff in ace attorney 5 necessitates cheapening all of the events preceding it. the implication that 1. the law wasn't that bad before but it Is Now and 2. a single case was the tipping point for whether or not the entire legal system would be bad just ruins the times when ace attorney has managed to acknowledge corrupt systems as a massive source of problem for the everyman in the past
i think this screenshot from the dark age of the law wiki page says a lot:
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For starters, that phoenix quote. He would not fucking say that. I don't think there has ever been a point during or leading up to phoenix's career where he thought the legal system had 'glory' he would then want to restore it to. you seem to get it so im not gonna harp on this too much on this but. jesus christ
then, then there's fact that even by stating the most basic details about the franchise's events undermines the whole premise. like okay notice that the corruption that happens during the trilogy/investigations spinoffs is coming from all of the actual agencies that represent law and order/the system: the prosecutors, the police, and the prosecutorial investigation committee. however in aa5 the thing they choose to paint as responsible for supposedly unprecedented levels of corruption in the legal system is defense attorneys resorting to more drastic means, and the general public; aka not the people who are responsible for upholding the legal system but the people who are victimized by it and in opposition to it.
i don't think this was an intentional choice as much as it's just sloppy, inconsiderate, and contrived writing.
aa6 is just flat out racist. 'imperalist undertones' is i would say the gentlest way you could phrase it. like. japanese characters going to a made up south asian country that needs to be taught how to govern itself to quash its internal rebellion is like. so high on the yikes meter.
making a bunch of fake 'ethnic sounding' nonsense names filled with apostrophes to make them into silly sounding english phrasing was a disastrously tone deaf thing for the localization to do. they're really unforgivable. the worst of it all is probably "Inga Karkhuul Haw'kohd Dis'nahm Bi'ahni Lawga Ormo Pohmpus Da'nit Ar'edi Iz Khura'in III" i'm unsure if the names are quite as offensive in the original japanese because i haven't looked too much into what they actually are and have a really limited knowledge of the language. but. this name in japanese is "インガ・カルクール・ククルーラ・ラルバン・ギジール・ホフダラン・マダラ・ヴィラ・ヤシマ・ジャクティエール・クライン3世" which is written in katakana. katakana is, in contrast to kanji and hiragana which are used for writing japanese, used to phoenetically transcribe foreign languages or to write loan words. so the foreign-ness of this character is being emphasized here in the original text as well.
the supposed cultural inferiority of the khurainese people is baked into the game at pretty much every level, down to the gags. khura'in has the 'plumed punisher' show, which is actively criticized by the characters in game for just being a cheap ripoff of the steel samurai. they don't even get to have their own tv.
i believe the reason the racism is pretty much glossed over a lot in the fandom is for several reasons. for starters, ace attorney fans overall tend to fall into three camps: 1. people like me who fucking hate these games, refuse to acknowledge them, and would retcon them out of existence if possible. 2. people who have found things they like about the game and have a Good Version of the characters and plots that they have constructed in their head and 3. people who view all of the hate on these games as completely overblown
the first camp Does talk about how the game is racist but we're all already in agreement about that so it's kind of preaching to the choir and a bit redundant to keep going on about. the second camp tends to acknowledge the stickier aspects of the game but focuses on making content around the elements they like rather than critique. the third camp is the type to throw the baby out with the bathwater re: critiquing a thing they like. it's all haterism to them. but either way i think its kind of fucked up how many people will be like 'aa6 isnt that bad you guys are just mean' without even acknowledging these complaints.
anyway the khura'in country vs kurain village thing is really weird to me it shows both a lack of imagination and a disregard for the series' own established lore. why would a girl from a village where almost everyone is a spirit medium need to go to a place where only, like, two people are mediums to train.
i will say though that the divination seance is kind of one of the only things i found about aa6 to be an interesting addition. for a franchise with ghost summoning and murder solving, the two have a kind of hilariously low amount of overlap so i found the idea of bringing ghost bullshit into court really fun. mechanically speaking, the divination seances also felt a LOT better to play than the mood matrix segments of aa5.
in general, i think the biggest weakness of the mainline franchise under takeshi yamazaki's stewardship is its misunderstanding of stakes. both aa5 and 6 prioritize more bombastic and impressive on paper material stakes. oh no! the ENTIRE JUSTICE SYSTEM BEING GOOD OR BAD depends on this one case! on no! we have to DEAL WITH REBEL INSURGENTS! complete horseshit when there is not competent and functional enough character writing to get us emotionally invested here. yamazaki seems to think bigger is better, and that just simply isnt true for something like ace attorney
i've pointed this out in the past when critiquing aa5 and 6 but if you look at the actual material stakes on the line in ace attorney, they're at their highest after rise from the ashes. ousting the corrupt chief of police is the most impressive and impactful thing phoenix does with his career (arguably until the jurist system, but definitely in the trilogy.) but that's not the big Finale case for his character arc. his finale case is defending his college girlfriend; a nun who lives in the mountains, whose conviction would have had zero implications on the larger fabric of ace attorney's legal system. because takumi's writing clearly shows that he understands what makes a plot impactful is the emotional stakes the characters have invested in the events.
before taking over the main franchise, takeshi yamazaki was responsible for the miles edgeworth investigations spinoffs. i do enjoy both of those games - aai2 in particular is really strong. yamazaki does a great job with edgeworth's character arc even if i have some specific gripes with the duologys writing. i think theyre solid additions to the franchise. but you can see traces of this sort of misalignment in narrative priorities here as well. for example, the last case in aai1 is notorious for still going on for, like, an entire hour or two past the time when the last remaining plot point we care about has been revealed. because yamazaki seemingly had no understanding that That was the thing the case should have been about, and that should have been the final mic drop of the game. it just keeps going! he didn't know the game was done and he added a bunch more bullshit busywork after it that no one likes!
so yeah. without going into anything even as specific as how individual plotlines or character arcs were mishandled in aa5/6 that's really my overview What Went Wrong of those games.
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euno11a · 3 months
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Tattooed Hearts V
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Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader
Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.
Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities
Edit: If you’d like to be added to the tag list, feel free to message me or send it to my inbox :)
Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV *** Why did you think he’d change? Just because he was nice to you in the flower shop? How naive could you be? You’d walked into the tattoo parlour, it being unusually empty. Walking around a little, you tried to find someone, a customer, RM, V, anyone. But all you were met with, was Jungkook fucking some woman in the break room. You froze, staring at the girl being pounded into. She looked at you, exaggerating her moans even more when she saw you. You clenched your jaw and walked out, not wanting to deal with this today. Not knowing where to go, you wandered around Main Street, trying to get the image of him and the woman out of your head. Your face was wet…why was it wet? Oh god, you were crying over him again. Lock him out, keep him locked out, never let him in again. *** Laying on the couch in your apartment, you stared at the ceiling. You felt numb, curious on why he had such an effect on you. The voice in your head was calling you an idiot for letting him in again. Who did she think she was? Jesus Howard Christ, you were a stupid little girl that got jealous over a player! Why were you so rung up about some stupid guy that can’t keep it in his pants-! Your doorbell…who the hell was ringing your doorbell at 9:30 at night? You stood up, pulling your pj shirt down, looking through the peephole on your door. Oddly, no one was there…you opened your door, feeling and hearing a loud thud onto your floor. “Jungkook?!” You yelled, seeing the man lying on your floor, eyes half-opened. “Hey, pretty girl…” He mumbled out, running a hand through his hair. He sat up, leaning on your doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, confused, angry and possibly even a little happy. Jungkook tilted his head up to look at you, giving you a hazy and drink smile. “M’missed you…you looked s-so good in that long thing you were wearing in the flower home…” He missed you…? No, stop it, he’s just drunk. “My long thing…? My dress? What…? Jungkook, why are you here?” You used your foot to move his legs so you could close your apartment door. He laughed, gently grabbing your leg, resting his head on it, “Missed you…needed…needed to see you…” Jungkook nuzzled your leg with his head, pressing his lips to it. “Jungkook, you’re drunk…possibly high. You don’t know what you’re saying. How’d you even get here? It’s too long of a walk from here to your place.” Okay, maybe you remembered how to get to his place from that one time he called you in the middle of the night, looking for a quick fuck. “Baby, I know what I’m saying…miss you…miss your pussy…miss your love…” He mumbled against your leg. Why hadn’t you pulled him off yet? Why hadn’t you kicked him out? Was it because you get bad? God, he looked adorable right now…but what were you gonna do with him? He can’t stay the night! But you have no way of getting him home. Fuck, why was your life so hard all of a second? “Okay, get up. Let-…no, let go of my leg!” You tried to pry him off of your leg, causing you to almost fall. Use your legs, that was the one thing you learned from the gym when lifting things. Struggling, you looped your arms around his waist, trying to pull him up to stand, but he was stronger and he pulled you down. He pulled you down into his lap. “You smell so good, baby…always so sweet…” Placing his head on your shoulder, he closed his eyes. “No! No! Open your eyes! You are not sleeping on my floor!” You wiggled yourself out of his lap, grabbing his arm, dragging him across the floor. At first glance, he didn’t look heavy, but I guess having all those muscles adds to it. Groaning, Jungkook tried to move your hands away, not liking the feeling of being dragged across the floor. “Ow, hurts….m’into that.” He smirks up at you. You drop his arms instantly, “ Stand up, Jungkook. I can’t drag you to my room.” Holding your hands out for him to grab. “Ooo, taking me to your room already?” He smiled drunkly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. He grabbed your hands, pulling himself
to stand up, stumbling into you. “You could at least wine and dine me first.” You’ve already done that to me. You sighed, taking his hand and leading him to your room. He threw himself onto your bed, cuddling up with your pillows. He fell asleep pretty quickly, most likely unaware of his surroundings. You sat down on the floor, looking up at his sleeping form on your bed. Why’d you come? Why didn’t you go to the other girl? Staring at him made tears well up into your eyes, you never should’ve looked at him. He was bad for you, like a parasite you couldn’t get rid of. Something that kept infecting you and burning you to the floor. You shouldn’t have even let him in tonight. “So pretty…su..such a good girl…my baby…” He mumbled in his sleep, you stood up, walking out of your room. Even in his sleep he talks about the other woman. Why try to be friendly when all he does is play you? Just shut up, keep your pretty poison lips shut. You’ve poisoned me enough. *** Rubbing your temples, you stared at the TV in front of you, listening to Lindsay ramble on and on. “He’s in your bed?! Like, right now he’s laying, in YOUR bed?? Oh my god, Y/N, did you sleep with him? Girl, I told you to find other dick! You can do so much better!” You shushed her, “Keep your voice down. I didn’t sleep with him, he showed up drunk last night at my door. He wouldn’t leave. So I let him in and put him in my bed.” You were running off of caffeine, two hours of sleep and a full season of Gilmore Girls. “How does he even know where you live?” She asked sceptically, placing her hands on her hips and looking you up and down. “One of the nights we were drunk and horny, my place was the closest. We came here.” Looking up at her, it posed a question, why did he still remember where you lived? “And he still remembers? Girl, I don’t know if that’s cute or stalker-ish.” “I don’t even want to think about it.” You rubbed at your eyes, the lack of sleep was making it hard to think about the fact you had Jungkook in your bed. The door creaked open, revealing a sleepy looking Jungkook. He walked out and paused, looking between you and Lindsay, then at his surroundings. Lindsay cleared her throat, pointing towards the door, “I’m gonna head out…I’ll see you later, Y/N.” With that, she escaped the situation. Why was god always on her side? Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, looking towards you. He cleared his throat, “Morning…” holy fuck, his voice was deep and sultry. That alone was enough to make your panties damp. “Can you get out of my house now?” You more so told him than asked, standing to motion towards the front door. “Sure, but don’t you want me to stay a little longer? Maybe some head would get you out of this sour mood.” He quipped, smirking slightly. “Sour mood? Sour mood?! You came to my house at 10 last night, drunk as a pig! Pushing yourself into my house, pleading you missed me and needed me! I dragged your sorry ass from the front to my bedroom, allowing you to sleep in my bed and stay the night, and you’re telling me I’m being sour? You’re lucky I let you in! I could’ve shut you out and called the police, telling them some drunk showed up at my apartment! It’s weird enough you remember where I live, I don’t need you coming into my home! You could’ve gone to that other woman’s house, but nooo, you came here! So quit telling me I’m sour, when I’m the one that let you in even after all the shit you’ve done to me!” Your ramble left him stunned, staring at you with utter shock. He wanted to say things, apologize, talk it out, but no words came out. You scoffed, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door, opening it and pushing him out. “Stop coming to me when you’re high.”
Taglist: @talyaaas-blog @cassies-cookies
@junecat18
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eddieswh0r · 1 year
Note
Hiii!
I was wanting to request a fic where eddie and femreader! are best friends and roommates, eddie is in love with her but is too afraid to tell her in case it ruins things and she doesn't feel the same. so he naturally is quite jealous when he sees her with other guys, but what he doesnt know is reader feels the same way about him. one day eddie was meant to be at band practice all day but it finished early as gareth got sick, so eddie comes home and he walks by readers room and all he hears his her making sll sorts of moans and groans, and the door is open just a little so he can see her touching herself but she also is moaning his name. maybe he walks in or she sees him either way it could end up with some sex and a confession maybe?
let's get back into it with a smutty slow burner? 😉
'Best Friends Lend a Hand'
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"Y/n, c'mon. Really? He's stood outside like he's taking you to fuckin' prom" peeking through the blinds that were being held open with a thumb and index finger, just enough to see down onto the street below, Eddie stifled his laughter "Look at him, he's got a fucking flower on his blazer. Wait.. Wait.. There's not even a button hole. It's just pinned on man.. No, stop it. Wait. Is that fucking sticky tape?" The curly haired metal head threw himself back down onto the sofa, holding his stomach as he erupted into fits of roaring laughter.
"You really need to stop calling it sticky tape Eddie, you're 24 and let me guess, you'd turn up on a date in a raggedy pair of jeans and your battle vest?" with a peek through the blinds yourself, your eyes widened. A short man who looked a little older than 25 like you'd been previously told and yes, as plain as day there was a wilted flower stuck to his blazer with the so-called 'sticky tape' attaching it.
"I'm so gonna get Harrington back for this." grabbing your bag off the arm of the sofa you pointed an outstretched finger at Eddie with narrowed eyes "You too!! you're both gonna pay so fuckin' bad for this!" with a slam of the door behind you, you lingered on the stairwell for a moment then sloped off to meet the blind date. The fucking horrible idea Harrington had concocted because he just wanted you to shut the fuck up about the lack of touch you so badly wanted. The few previous dates you'd been on were ok, nothing to write home about, there was no spark, they weren't thrilling, they weren't Eddie.
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"Yeah man, she left about twenty minutes ago - ish and she did NOT look happy" passing Steve a beer Eddie leant his hip on the kitchen counter "..We're gonna pay for this, she insisted on it actually. 'You're gonna pay so fuckin' bad'" mimicking your voice in a high pitched tone he laughed taking a big gulp from the cold bottle.
"You can fuck right off Munson if you think she's getting me back for this as well. I was doing alright, firing out the best people i knew for these dates. You.. You picked this one, who the fuck is this man?"
"Michael, you remember him right? few years older than us, his brother Tommy was in Robins science classes"
"MICHAEL? MICHAEL COOPER? Eddie he's at least 30 now. A few years older? Jesus CHRIST. She's gonna go mental. How did you even ask him?
"Saw him in the 7-Eleven parking lot"
Eddie knew what he was doing though, he wasn't just being a prick to his roommate, his best friend of 20 years for no reason. Seeing Steve organize all these dates for you and watching you go off with the jock looking buff boys made Eddies insides twist. 20 years is a hell of a long time to be crushing hard on someone right? But from the age of 4, you and Eddie had been completely inseparable. Kindergarten, first school, middle, high, college, work, roommates, the full lot, together. So let's be honest a crush for 20 years? No. That boy was completely in love with you but he'd never tell you. No way. But you wouldn't tell him either, he'd never know you felt the same, fuck he could never know. Ever.
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"I swear Eddie that date was traumatizing, you and Steve are in for it, just you wait. I don't mind an older man but 30 and already balding? You're both assholes for that" placing your cereal bowl in the sink you frowned crossing your arms, the previous events from last night whirling around in your head making you cringe. Pulling on his trainers Eddie hid the smirk that spread across his face as you told him all about the disastrous date.
"So lemme get this right, the sticky tape fell off and the flower fell riiiight into his soup?"
"Eddie i was so embarrassed, he was speaking so loud and people were staring and.. and then.. he fucking ate the flower swimming round in his soup, i wanted to die" slumping down into the sofa you looked over toward Eddie who was now chuckling to himself. God, if only the man who was stood in front of you would take you on a date.
"Wait.. Where you going anyway? I thought we had a movie marathon planned?" he better not be blowing you off for a date you thought, he did that once before and it didn't end well. You didn't speak to him for days and he did a bit too much groveling after that.
"Corroded Coffin rehearsal sweetheart, fuck. I thought i told you?" Grabbing his keys off the side, he looked at you with his big ol' puppy dog eyes "I'll make it up to you, i promise.. i gotta go"
"Asshole"
Eddie swung the door open and glanced back to you "Laters princess" flashing his teeth with a grin and finishing with a wink.
Fuuuck. If only he knew what those simple words did to you. That knot in your stomach tightened.
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Hey, Doc! we better back up.
We don't have enough roads to get up to 88.
Roads?
Where we're going we don't need no roads.
"I will never get tired of that film" pressing the off button on the remote you sighed happily. You'd taken yourself to bed and curled up in your covers to watch yours and Eddies favorite film, even though he'd ditched you for band practice. The smell of his cologne wafted up to your nostrils from his band tee you wore. It's not like it was unusual for you to wear one of his t-shirts, in fact, it was more unusual for you not to be wearing one.
Boredom took over. The apartment was relatively clean, the laundry was done and you'd already picked at snacks throughout the film.
16:27 flashed on your alarm clock, Eddie had been gone for hours and he'd probably be gone a few more. Resting your hand on your stomach you tore your stare away from your ceiling toward your nightstand. A photo of you and Eddie from 2 years prior. Nancy had suggested a walk which sounded like a good idea at the time but it was a cold autumn morning and Steve did absolutely nothing but complain about the temperature the whole time. Nancy had bought her camera with her and caught the exact moment Eddie threw a big pile of golden orange and yellow leaves at you, he had his head thrown back laughing while the leaves fell around you. So as grumpy as you looked it was developed and placed in a frame for your 22nd birthday.
God, you were so in love with him. His hair, eyes, smile, neck, the dip in his chest, down towards his toned stomach which had his little trail leading towards.. towards..
"Mmm, fuck." your hand had found itself tucked inside your thin cotton panties, your finger drawing circles around what was now a wet pulsing bud of nerves as you thought about your best friend, the best friend you were absolutely madly in love with.
Closing your eyes and tilting your head back you slipped a second finger and applied more pressure wishing it was Eddie that was taking care of you, making you feel good.
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Placing his keys on the small table next to the door Eddie scanned his eyes around the living room searching for you but nothing, he thought that you'd probably gone out to meet Nancy. He'd come back much earlier than expected, Gareth wasn't feeling great so they decided to call it a day.
"Oh Eddie."
His gaze quickly turned towards your bedroom door, faint squeaks and mewls coming from inside. Eddie gingerly made his way closer to the door, the faint orange hum of light from the bedside lamp shining through the slight crack of where it was left open.
"Feels so good, Eddie"
Hearing his name a second time he peeped one eye through the ajar door, eyes widening at what he could see in front of him. Sprawled on your bed with the covers no longer on you and Eddies tee bunched up just above your chest, one hand in your panties and the other caressing your breast with your hard, sensitive nipple rolling between your finger and thumb, your back arching every time you went a little faster. Eddie automatically palmed his now painfully hard erection through his jeans. Should he be doing this? This is wrong, that's my best friend he thought to himself but another moan of his name from your lips stopped that thought abruptly. He watched you gather your own slick on your index and middle finger letting your legs fall to the side and giving him a very clear view of what he wanted needed so bad, slowly sliding your fingers into your aching cunt a moan dragged from your throat which made Eddies breath hitch and palm his erection faster.
Eddie couldn't take it any longer, watching you take care of yourself like this, he needed to help. He needed to take care of you himself.
"Need a hand sweetheart?" gently pushing your bedroom door open his eyes darkened with want as he took a slow pace towards the end of your bed. You stopped what you were doing, you weren't nervous or even embarrassed. Looking up at him with big doe eyes you gave a simple nod and that was more than enough for him. Eddie walked round to the side of your bed while unfastening his belt, letting his jeans fall down to his ankles, followed by his boxers. Your eyes widened as his hard dick slapped against his stomach on release. Holy fuck he was gifted.
"I'm gonna take care of you now, 'kay? Just relax baby. M'gonna make you feel so good" Eddie climbed on top of you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. Nuzzling his way into your neck his teeth nipped at your skin, grazing down to your collarbone. You watched his every move not wanting to miss his perfect fucking face making its way over your torso.
"You miss me princess?" his voice muffled as his mouth enveloped around your nipple, the connection rapidly sending your hands to his mass of curly hair with a soft moan flowing from your lips, Eddie pinched your nipple between his teeth as he dragged a hand across your thigh, gripping the inside. Letting your nipple go from his mouth with a pop he gave you the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen.
"I’ll take that as a yes?" Taking his bottom lip between his teeth he edged down toward the end of the bed, hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you towards him.
“Eddie, wait!!” You called, Eddie let go of your legs in a panic, you watched his face drop as you knew every kind of thought would be running through his head.
“I don’t think it’s fair Eddie” you pouted your lips, dropping your head ever so slightly
“W-we can stop? If that’s what you want princess? We don’t have to do this, I don’t wanna ruin our friendship”
“Well.. I just kinda mean.. like.. you still have your top on” it was your turn to wear the shit-eating grin now and watch the relief wash over Eddies face. In a flash he removed his top and flung it over to the side. His toned body in all its glory, right there in front of you, begging to be touched, every single part of it, you wanted to cover with your lips.
“Is that what you wanted, Sweetheart? Is that better now?” A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped and Eddie leaned forward and pushed his lips on yours, snapping you from your stare. Slow, wet kisses at first switched on what felt like lightening dancing in your stomach which quickly turned to messy, open-mouthed kisses, tongues circling in unison, trying to find each other at every opportunity. Eddie pulled away breathless, leaving nothing but a string of saliva between you. Sitting up he resumed his position and hooked his arms under your legs pulling you closer. You bit your bottom lip in arousal and anticipation as Eddie looked down at you giving you a quick nod and the most beautiful smile, you nod back confirming the go ahead and be didn’t hesitate.
“Just relax sweetheart, if you wanna stop.. tell me.. ‘Kay?” He slowly pressed against your soaking wet opening with the tip of his dick, rubbing up and down gathering your wetness on his end.
“Oh f-fuck, you’re fuckin’..” cutting himself off from his own sentence he slipped inside of you, feeling your gummy walls clench around his length almost immediately. Your head threw back and a moan of his name left your lips pronto.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie” gripping the sheets and throwing your head back at the bliss. Eddie pushed in to the hilt and picked up a pace rather quickly which earned groans from his direction.
“Sweetheart, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted this”
“Eddie, shut up and fuck me” you giggled breathless. Deep and hard, faster and faster. The fire in your stomach was unbearable and the taste of sweet release was moments away.
“Eddie. I- I’m gonna..”
“Cum for me, there’s a good girl.” Those words tipped you over the fuckin edge, as you clenched your walls around him waves of euphoria washed over you, knuckles turning white from the sheets in your grasp, your mouth hung open but no sound was audible. Your body shook as your reached your ultimate high.
“There it is, fuck. Such a good girl for me” Eddie praised as he reached his own high, burying his warm seed deep inside you. Your name and curses rolling off his tongue.
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What felt like hours passed and somehow the covers had found their way onto you both, Eddies arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest while it gently rose and fell with every breath. You didn’t know what was to happen next only that you both didn’t want this to end, you and Eddie had waited for this moment and no one was going to take it away. Your eyes slowly closed as tiredness took over as it did for Eddie.
“I love you, Sweetheart”
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Oh please I’ve been fucking working on this for months and the last few paras are SO fuckin rushed because it was just sitting in my drafts.
Love you all😩🥰
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georgies-ftts · 8 months
Text
my genuine thoughts and reactions watching One Piece as someone who has never consumed a different piece of One Piece media before
spoilers… obviously…
Episode 1:
thick glaswegian accent straight away you’ve won me over
this guys moustache is immaculate kinda looks like every version of captain hook ever mushed into one
i recognise the scottish guy
random guy #374’s sideburns are… definitely there
slay drop a bomb before you’re executed horribly
cracker opening theme actually 9/10 should’ve been longer
fourth wall break?
nope he’s talking to a bird
okay funky trouser man you shout into the abyss
this birds got better drip than me
‘Mutiny’ funny actually
he’s not having a good time
what the actual fuck is that ship
aldiva? love of my life?
Koby needs a fresh trim… probably… idk
love me some cheeky windmills
i recognise red hair hat man too
that kids fully gonna die
luffy is fuckin nuts
is he eating… raw??? steak???
australian pink haired harrypotter is about to shit himself
dudes about to get his shit rocked
funky hat man??? is fucking??? elastic
rope burn doesn’t exist in this universe
elastic head is genuinely fuckin horrific
but also slay
think i’m gonna like depressed green hair man
Mr 7 is wearing two ruffs….
‘My favourite is number 1’ fuck him up emotionally i like it
and then fuck him physically this is going grand actually
sword fights that are choreographed immaculately and with fluid camera movements truly do hold a very special place in my heart
oh wait is the luffy kid funky straw hat man
“your mug” yes get that slang in there
wait but luffy has a steady american accent with no twangs
purple orb i’d eat it
oh so would he apparently
what the fuck it’s green
who the fuck is red haired hat man i can’t be bothered to pull up imdb
don’t kill shanks he treats the bar staff with respect
he was in ‘fresh meat’ i found him
he’s so gonna die
i’d slap man bun guy so fuckin hard
luffy needs to like… have a nap or something
woah luffy straight in there with the insults
he had a munch and now he’s a bit bendy
now i recognise koby jesus christ
didn’t need to slap the poor guy jesus
koby is cute i like them
ginger woman floating in the sea
“sweetheart” fucking get rid of them
is she gonna fuck em up
slay queen found a new love of my life and she’s wearing funky socks
‘where’s my face?’ bruvva i could squish your cheeks like a toddler that wall is not for you
it’s green haired sword guy love him
“one for my friend” dude that is a body. in a sack.
it’s ginger sock girl, marry me
blonde british man is gonna catch these fists, sir that is a child leave her alone
lucious malfoy looking ass
yes Zoro (the subtitles are the only reason i know what’s goi-)
did he just eat that off the floor.
blonde british man is fucking terrifying
another sword fight???????
kolby you are me actually
fuck them up fuck them up fuck them up
i’m a lesbian but i do think green haired man just turned me bisexual
“my father” jesus fuckin christ they hired draco malfoy
like the rum???
jesus christ daddy’s boy needs a fuckin gag or some shit
i want Zoro’s earrings please
why does this man have a metal plate bolted into his face
“where does it even go” i think you know
koby realising not everything that’s made out to be ‘good’ is always good slay, we love a little bit of depth
i love a cgi sewer pipe
jesus chrrriiiiiiist draco malfoy is back
kick him in the balls
“when i get down” dude you are literally half on the floor already….
my wife ginger socks girl is back everything is good
she’s gone again, devastated
luffy kinda has the percy jackson cockiness yknow?
luffy 10/10 would do a phycology gcse
fucking english bastards ruining everything
it’s fine she fucked em up again
what is the grand line may i ask
her eyes are stunning
i think she just shat herself
draco malfoy needs to go what the-
that’s his bare arse
chop his dick off
please
i beg you
i think luffy just wants some friends
she’s a pickpocket too holy fuck-
“i’m never joining” yuh huh sure
why’s she searching the papers on the desk surely they would be in a draw or some shit or like a secret message or something
win for luffy
153rd marines really doesn’t sound all that threatening
so he’s like… hench as fuck too?
protect the hat luffy as you should
green haired man’s just pitched up c’mon
slay, literally and figuratively
is he wearing zebra trousers?
not where i thought the sword went…
yeaaahhh fuck him up
that kick was fucking immaculate
so green man is also fuckin hench???
oi listen to the queen
HA MALFOYS HAIR REMINDS ME OF MY WEIRD BARBIE
zoro smiled that’s it life is good
KOBY MY SON
koby no don’t
okay koby you slay love you
you keep them massive fuck off glasses safe
do they meet again? please tell my they meet again and they both live and are happy i will cry-
ooo action music my favourite kind of tv music
what the fuck is that snail and why is it also a phone
SCOTTISH MAN IS BACK
they took your mum actually
a pirate in a straw hat who’s skin is made of rubber thankyou
ooo new emo green haired man
they infact we’re not planning anything ever
that’s that one guy from agents of shield
jesus he’s fuckin creepy
oh that’s terrifying actually
FUCKIN TUNE
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slicznymartwy · 9 months
Note
Maybe a Billy Lenz X GN!Reader or Billy Lenz X Male!Reader and the reader is dominant? I love the way you portrayed him in your works!!!
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… this got away from me.. 2.2k words . very minimal proof reading and I wrote it really fast so please forgive any mistakes .. m!insert is friends with one of the sorority girls and is staying over for dinner when the Moaner calls. warning: non-con/dub-con, a little bit of cock slapping, honestly problematic nsfw 
☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x dominant m!reader
When your friend tells you about the obscene phone calls, you assume she’s making it out to be worse than it really is. It’s not that you don’t trust her judgement, but you figure there has to be a simpler reason for the calls than some pervert stalker.
You wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a couple of poorly timed wrong-number calls that the girls blew out of proportion the more they talked about it amongst themselves.
You don’t understand the truth of it until you’re the one picking up the phone.
“Pi Kap,” you answer. When there’s no response, you sigh and move the phone to your other ear. “Hello?”
You hear breathing on the other line. Heavy, labored breaths that give you goose bumps. The voice is obviously masculine, so deep and heady that you nearly forget that he’s calling for the girls, not for you. Clearing your throat, you force yourself to focus on reality and not your own weird fantasies.
“Listen here, buddy, you better stop calling this number,” you say sternly, but you’re cut off. 
He moans into the receiver, breaking off into coughs when his voice goes too low. It sounds dirty, like he might be stroking himself off while he’s talking to you.
It’s for the girls, you remind yourself. You should be feeling furious, not jealous.
“I mean it. I’ll call the police,” you threaten.
“Fucking sluts,” the voice mutters, coughing again. His coughs are loud now, sounding almost like grotesque gagging. “Pig sluts. I’ll fuck them before you do.”
“What?” you breath out, shocked by his words.
“Gonna fuck them first. Gonna ruin it for you. Fuck ‘em with my fat cock, bigger than yours. I’m gonna kill you,” he says, muttering everything under his breath. It’s quiet, but just loud enough that you can hear.
“You’re sick,” you hiss into the receiver. He coughs, then licks his lip so loudly you can hear his spit clicking in his mouth.
“Piggy pussies want my juicy fat cock,” the voice hisses back, choking on his spit in the end. Christ, you can’t imagine what kind of degenerate was calling the house like this.
“Go fuck yourself. I’m calling the cops and I’m beating your ass if I ever see you,” you say.
The man starts to talk again, but you hang up on him, not willing to subject yourself to anymore of his ranting.
“Jesus,” you mutter to yourself, just as your friend comes out from the dining room.
“Was that him?” she asks worriedly, brows drawn together. You sigh as you go to her, putting your hands in your pockets.
“I think so. He calls you guys often?” you ask.
“Sometimes once a day. Sometimes more or less,” she says, holding her own hand. You sigh, taking one hand out of your pocket to pat her shoulder.
“I’m calling the station and then I’m spending the night here. I don’t trust that creep after what he said,” you say, letting your hand drop despite how she leant into your touch.
“What’d he say?” 
You shake your head, putting your hand back into your pocket. “I won’t say. But I’ll keep you guys safe,” you promise. She coos at that, pouting like she might cry as she throws her arms around you. You carefuly extract both hands from your pockets and pat her back carefully.
“Thank you, thank you. You’re the bestest friend ever,” she says. You smile and pat her back, but you don’t really feel like a good friend.
Although your friend offers you the other side of her fullsize mattress, you decline her nicely and take a pillow and blanket down to the living room couch.
“It’s to keep an eye on the front door,” you told her, which she accepted with a pout.
Unfortunately, the couch is less comfortable laying down than when you’re sitting on it. You toss and turn for a while before giving up, staring up at the ceiling with wide open eyes.
You mind wanders back to the phone call and the voice on the other line. His voice had gotten to your head, despite his disgusting words, and his moans played on repeat in your mind. You hadn’t heard real male moans like that in a long time, not counting yourself. It put you on edge, despite every rational bone in your body telling you how stupid you were being.
You’re considering a quick jerk off when you hear the last step on the staircase creak.
Freezing, you don’t move as you consider the sound. It could be your girlfriend or one of her housemates, but nearly every step of the staircase creaked; theres no way any of them could climb down those steps without making any other noise. Alternatively, you hadn’t heard the door open, and that thing creaked louder than all the steps combined.
Slowly, you sit up and look over the back of the couch to see a man in a dark sweater standing on the last step. He’s frozen in place, like if he doesn’t move, you won’t realize he was walking down the steps in your girlfriend’s house.
The longer he stays still, the heavier your breath comes. Fuck, is he even real? You rub your eyes with both hands, and then you hear him take the final step off the stairs and into the living room.
A choked off noise leaves your mouth when the stranger tackles you on the couch, both hands reaching for your throat like he wants to strangle you. Luckily, with your hands both up by your face, you’re able to knock his hands away from you, and you realize he’s not a very strong man. You manuver him easily, despite the way he flails his limbs baby deer.
It also certainly helps that you wrestled in high school.
Laying on the floor by the couch, you press his back against your chest, legs hooking around his own to keep him splayed open. Both of his hands come to the arm you keep looped around his neck.
The stranger is breathing heavily, gasping and grunting like an animal. He tries to buck you off of him, but you keep him in his place easily.
“Who the fuck are you?” you hiss in his ear. You’re taken aback when he hisses back, literally, like a cornered cat. You tighten the arm around his neck and feel his nails dig against your forearm.
“Are you the one calling?” you ask instead.
“Rrrrrrring, ring, ring,” the man manages to trill, despite being completely breathless. “Please hold, the next available operator will fuck you momentarily.”
“You fucking pervert,” you say, jostling him. The man moans, trying to free his legs but you don’t let him. Keeping your arm tight around his throat, but not so tight he can’t breath, you let go of your other arm and drop it down to his crotch.
The man’s hip buck immediately, struggling to get you off of him as he lets out a whimper. You don’t let up, feeling how his cock was already half hard in his jeans.
“How do you like that?” you whisper in his ear, continuing the motion with firm and steady strokes. “Is this what you wanted so bad? Fucking pervert freak.”
The man is still whimpering, head tossing back and forth as he mutters a soft, “no,” again and again. Despite his protests, his hands loosen up on your arm, giving less effort to truly break out of your hold.
You tell yourself that you’re just teaching the guy a lesson, but you’re hard too. His body is warm and firm and he smells so masculine, no trace of sweet flowery perfumes or lotions. Your cock presses against his lower back, but you try to ignore it.
“You’re disgusting,” you say instead of focusing on yourself anymore. You can feel the man start to buck his hips into your hand, chasing the pleasure. Feeling cruel, you let go of him and bring your hand down against his cock, reveling in the way he crumples like a can of soda, letting out a pathetic strangled noise.
“You like this, don’t you? How are you this desperate for anyone to touch you?” you ask in his ear. You start to stroke him again, listening to his heavy breathing. “Disgusting.”
“Disgusting Billy,” he whispers, sounding strangled. He suddenly gasps wetly and swallows, like he’s drooling. You grit your teeth as your cock twitches.
“Get up,” you say, rolling him off of you. Your cock bulges in your pants, but you ignore it while you watch him. He stays on the ground, still breathing heavily, and you think you see his hips twitch forward like he’s imagining he’s fucking someone. Suddenly furious, you climb to your feet, towering over him.
“I said get up. On your knees,” you whisper into the dark room. He groans, keeping his head hanging even as he forces himself up. 
He’s kneeling in front of you, and your cock throbs hotly against your tight pants.
“G-gonna fuck ‘em. Fucking sluts,” the man says under his breath. “Pig cunts.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you say, putting a hand in his frizzy mess of hair. Stepping forward, you force his head against your clothed cock. “Feel that? You’re gonna suck it, you fucking pervert. I don’t wanna hear another fucking word out of your mouth.”
The man moans, muffled against your pants. You can feel his mouth against you, wet and hot. His lips press against you, parted. 
Extracting your hand from his hair, you undo your fly and pull your cock out, already leaking precum at your tip.
“Go ahead, you sick little perv. This is what you want, isn’t it?” You let your cock brush against his lips, red and shiny already. “Fuck. You’re so sick.”
The man gags when you finally push your cock past his lips. He doesn’t let you go very far, his gag reflex is so sensitive that pushing in past the tip of his tongue has him coughing and crying.
It hardly matters to you. You fuck his mouth anyways, letting him drool and gag and cough as much as he wants. He looks up at you with wide, watery eyes, and you stare right back into them as you use him like a thing.
When you finally come in his mouth, you pull out and watch him cough and spit it out onto the wood floor under them. He’s gasping and trying to catch his breath between coughs, face flushed and wet with tears.
“Look at you,” you whisper, putting your hand in his hair. “You’re the slut now. Disgusting cock slut. Gonna oink for me, you cock pig? Oink for me,” you taunt. He moans, covering his face with both hands and scrubbing at his tear-stained cheeks.
You almost feel bad for him, but one look down shows you how he presses a hand against his crotch, rocking on his knees to ride his own palm.
“Fuck. Gonna come in your pants?” you ask him cruelly. “Do it. Pervert. You cock pig.”
The man in front of you moans brokenly, falling forward and clutching onto your pants leg with one hand as the other stays between his legs. You can tell when he comes, hand tightening against your jeans as he leans against you completely, hips twitching a few times before falling still again.
You watch the stranger with heaving breaths, more turned on than you’ve ever felt during any of your past encounters with men – usually little more than rushed handjobs in locker rooms or bar bathrooms.
Out of pity, you let the man catch his breath before stepping away from him, and he falls onto the floor between them.
“Clean yourself up,” you say, hiding yourself in your pants again. You sigh when you see the mess of spit and cum on the floor. “I’m gonna get a towel for the mess. You need the bathroom?”
You watch the man shake his head slowly, still not showing his face. Sighing again, you wonder what you could say. Should you call the police, or would he tell them what you both did and get you arrested to?
When you come back with a paper towel, you’re surprised to see that the man is gone; even the bathroom is empty. You figure the man had learned his lesson and crawled back to whatever hole he came from. 
Once the mess was wiped up and tossed into the kitchen trash bin, you lay back down on the couch. Sleep finds you much easier than it did before, and you’re out like a light after a few short minutes.
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a/n: reblogs appreciated <33
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eulchu · 1 year
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ok guys. let's have a real talk. let's ALL have a real talk and i don't mean just me and my anons . i hope this reaches all of our community even if you think i fucking suck.
fucking october didn't ruin us but i am so worried that this dumb tension just might. this is getting so ridiculous and out of hand -i barely understand what's going on myself. so im gonna need everyone to work together and do a collective reflection exercise.
i am gonna write out a series of points that i need u guys to think about before proceeding in this community:
- active blogs. you're burnt out. you're burnt out and you're so tired of trying to keep this community running that you're denying yourself a moment to feel your own frustrations as your own individual person. i get that . i get being under so much pressure that you can't catch yourself some slack, least you spiral out of control <- this is, however, really damn unhealthy 😭 it's ok to let yourself feel some disappointment!! some anger!! that's fine. it's up to you, however, what you do with it. this brings us to our next point.
- we NEED to acknowledge this if we wanna get better. ifl it's taboo and we're pushing the narrative so hard we're not giving ourselves enough space to breathe. it. is. okay. to. feel. disappointed. over. the. lack. of. dteam. content. i am the first person to shut down any self entilted prick who thinks they can expect something out of them. because they DON'T owe us anything. but truth is we are humans and, accordingly so, feel in consequence of our own expectations. i wanna break this part down in a few points:
it is OKAY to acknowledge that we are disappointed. denying one self's feelings never ended up ok for anyone. it is okay to acknowledge that we are not getting the content we were hoping for.
it is NOT okay to blame the dteam for it. this is where it gets tricky. the dteam are in charge of what type of content they put out. it will never be in our hands. at that point, if you don't like what they're doing. leave. i'm sorry. it's harsh. i'm not trying to be mean about it. i'd understand if you left! it's ok!
- before you leave, though, i want to ask you a question. why do dislike what they're doing so much? seriously, ask yourself that question. is the content that bad, in your eyes? if the answer is yes, i can't help you there. you've grown out of their content. there's no way around it.
- but is it actually bad, or is it just Not What You Expected? In which case, let's talk. Let's put things bluntly:
the dteam have waited years to be together. correct
upon living together, we have discovered that they are not very good at providing content because they put their friendship above content. i'm not sure if anyone had that in their bingo cards - but it's what happened. autumn was really rough on them & they've learnt to exist together off camera. me personally, i think it's sweet.
dteam and traveling: a fall out? :o . no. jesus christ 😭 the fact that this is the new narrative nauseates me. i don't think anyone in their right mind thinks that dteam are less close than they were when they were living apart.
Bringing back our initial point, the failure to meet our expectations can be mentally challenging. it will inevitably make us second guess a lot of associated ideas that we thought were true . if one of our expectations fails to be met, that's a fail in our mental plan. if we were wrong about this, who's to say we are right about anything else?
i'm not sure if there's some sort of denial of feelings here or if people are trying really hard not to think about this possibility because it makes them scared. i am inviting you to take a moment to really think about it and feel the initial dread of the question. it will pass fairly quickly.
the truth is that the dteam is FINE. they're fine, they share a house, they film videos together, and they go on these long ass hiatus when they're together because they would much rather spend uncesored time off-line.
my favorite point: for how parasocial we are, we don't give them nearly enough credit. the dteam are adult men. we have to put faith in their decisions. only they know what they're doing. they know what's best for them. we certainly don't.
- i wanna rescue this last point. their decisions are THEIRS. if we don't put trust in what they're doing, we're already failing the game. that means who they hang out with too. i get not liking someone ok? i get it. i don't like a lot of people either. no one is pointing a gun to any of their heads. if you think that any of them is doing something that you don't see fit you have problems and you need to grow up. it is not our place to dictate their lives and it will never be. that goes for the white-knighting too.
⚠️(this is a completely hypothetical scenario)⚠️
the truth is if tomorrow george decides to go back to the uk, for whatever reason. we would all have to fucking shut it. fan disappointment? yes. acting like george is an awful person for betraying his best friends? you're out of your fucking mind.
dream george and sapnap are grown up people with a strong friendship and communication skills. if you think that george would take the unilateral decision and not tell anyone until the day before you need to seek help. whatever decision the dteam take about their lives it's THEIRS and you need to put some fawking faith in what they're doing. they know what's up.
that goes for the fucking karl problem too okay? i don't like it either. whatever. it's not my place though?? dream isn't a baby who's been abandoned he's a grown ass man who knows what he's doing and if he still considers (if they ALL do) karl his friend that's his decision. if he thinks that karl's friendship management is fine that's his decision. we are not dream's friends nor his fucking therapist.
- the thing about dooming and content. the multishippers: is the dteam all there really is? i firmly believe that we all kove the dteam outside of each other. (mostly tackled in this post)
- dnf and the fandom. jesus christ i can't believe i have to make a point about this. i think it's important to remember that at the end of the day. it's just Not That Serious. it was never meant to be that serious. bringing back the "they're their own people" point, what the Fuck do some people think they're doing 🧍‍♂️
dnf know what they're doing they know the nature of their relationship better than we ever will. if they're just friends it's because they chose to if they . in the biggest plot of the century . come out of this with a s/o it doesn't mean they're cheating on each other, that dream/george was leading anyone on or that they're hurting each other???? are you CRAZY 😭 if they're dating they're dating if they're not they're fucking not but they're. not gonna be sad about it??? they're adult people in an adult relationship they know what tf they're doing. they hold each other's hearts impossibility close to themselves. there's nothing they would ever do that could hurt each other.
to wrap things up: after this reddit worthy post (congrats if you've made it to the end) i have something very important to ask of you guys.
i know it might be unfair but can we all compromise on detoxxing. completely. for like, a week. not posting neg at ALL. we can't enable doomers we can't enable bait anons. neg is only good for one thing: make anxious people paranoid as fuck.
so can we. for like a week. just not post anything /neg at all. can we block the worst of it. the unnecessary dooming. and not acknowledge at ALL. i get it's a huge mental toll on the active blogs - reading so much negativity SUCKS but i do believe that it's a better option than responding and enabling more people to send similar asks.
me personally, i am already saying it here: any dooming will get blocked in my askbox. i won't hate you for it. but this IS a warning that you need to get your shit together if you ever wanna have a chance at speaking in my askbox ever again.
um congrats if you read everything?😭 PLEAAAASE let's all make this place a better place again i know we can do it
U CAN ADD TO THIS POST IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY BTW !!!
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bigskyandthecoldgun · 8 months
Text
electricity
very loosely based off that one exchange from episode 6 of the dhmis show
words: 4,444
ao3
“Closing shift again, Harrington?”
Eddie watches as Steve’s face shifts from muted disinterest to something like annoyance. “Unfortunately for both of us, yeah,” he mutters, a little red in the face as he rips that stupid little sailor hat off his head and tosses it over his shoulder into the Scoops Ahoy break room. Eddie snorts as it misses the table. Steve runs a hand through his hair and cocks a hip so that he���s leaning against the doorframe. “So, what’ve you got for me?”
Patting the massive tubs of ice cream beside him, Eddie gives Steve as wolfish of a grin as he can muster. “For your beloved freezer,” he says with a low bow, and he glances up just in time to watch Steve roll his eyes. Eddie kicks up the dolly the tubs are stacked on and nods at Steve, to the doorway behind him. “Lemme roll these in.”
“You got it?” Steve asks, stepping aside but hovering at the side of the dolly as Eddie wheels it into the back of Scoops. A couple of the tubs wobble—the ones at the top, because Eddie’s stacked it ten high. He’s not making multiple trips. Steve hisses out a curse under his breath and outstretches his hands by the ice cream, as if he’ll be able to save all of them as long as they fall in his general vicinity. “Careful, careful! Jesus, Munson, these are gonna fall on top of you if you’re not careful, ruin that fantastic hair of yours.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh at the definite sarcasm as he wheels the ice cream into the freezer and sighs contentedly at the feeling of cold air on his skin. He started working at Starcourt a little over a month ago, and the summer’s only gotten hotter. It’s ridiculously hard work, carting around shit to different stores and helping out when security’s short-staffed, and Eddie’s not exactly the most fit person around. Years of smoking and skipping gym class will do that to a guy.
But what makes it all worth it, in Eddie’s humble opinion, is that he gets to spend his summer tormenting King Steve, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, Steve from Scoops Ahoy. It’s a fun little dive into Eddie’s favorite pastime—enacting sweet, sweet revenge. Sure, Steve might not have done anything to him directly, more preferring to stare down his nose at people like Eddie while his lackeys—namely Hagan—did the dirty work for him. Nonetheless, Eddie hates the guy. Well, maybe hate is a bit of a strong word, but he still can’t stand Steve and his stupid hair and his dumb little sailor uniform that has shorts that are way too tight and his dashing smile and his long lashes and his sparkly laugh and—
Bottom line is that Eddie can’t stand the guy. No amount of pretty can fix past slights.
“So,” Eddie says, drawing the word out as Steve heaves the cardboard tubs onto the shelves, and he lets his eyes linger over the cord of taut muscle in Steve’s biceps. Sue him, the guy’s nice to look at. “You got any big plans tonight, Harrington?”
Steve makes a sound that’s about halfway between a scoff and a laugh, with a little bit of contrition mixed in. “Not unless you count sitting on my couch with a lukewarm beer and watching reruns of shitty sitcoms as ‘big plans,’” he says, shifting the tub in his hands to one arm so he can do some sarcastic air quotes, and Eddie blinks. Steve raises a brow at him. “Why, are you offering?”
Willing the heat that’s rushing to his cheeks to screw off, Eddie squints. “To make plans with you? Maybe when hell freezes over, Harrington,” he says, coming off a little more biting than he’d really intended, and Steve’s shoulders tense. A minute change, but a noticeable one. Eddie taps his hands on the now-empty dolly and gives Steve a shit-eating grin. “Well, see you tomorrow, sailor.”
“Can’t wait,” Steve says.
Just as Eddie turns to wheel the dolly towards the freezer door, the power goes out. Shit.
“Jesus H. Christ, can’t catch one goddamn break,” he mutters, fidgeting with the flashlight clipped to his belt until it turns on, and Steve groans beside him. Eddie waves the flashlight around the freezer until he shines it at Steve, who squints and throws his hands up in front of his face, and he snickers. “Looking good, Harrington.”
“Shut up,” Steve huffs, cheeks flushed, and he smacks Eddie’s flashlight until the beam’s directed away from his face. It’s hard to see him now that he’s not directly in the light, but Eddie can still see the way his eyes dart around the freezer, can hear the way his breathing picks up. “Shit. Shit, d’you think—it’s probably just a power outage. Right?”
Eddie snorts. “What else would it be?”
Steve levels a glare at him, and Eddie makes a face back, because he hasn’t said anything wrong, and Steve’s just being a dick. “Okay, well, let’s just…get the hell out of here so we can go home,” Steve says, and Eddie couldn’t agree more, actually. He moves past Eddie to get to the door, and Eddie half-expects him to shove past, shoulder him or something, but he doesn’t; he makes himself small, even, shrinking back and around him. Steve tugs on the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. Uh oh. Steve tugs at it some more. “Wh—oh, you gotta be shittin’ me.”
“Are we locked in here?” Eddie asks, and it comes out as an embarrassing squeak. Steve’s answering groan doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. “Why the hell didn’t you prop it open if it locks from the outside?!”
Sighing as he rattles the door some more, Steve glances back at Eddie over his shoulder. “I didn’t know the power would go out while we were in here, man,” he huffs. “Starcourt uses these fancy electronic locks for all the freezers in the building to keep the cold in them as much as possible, helps keep all the stuff in ’em from going bad, but they’re only supposed to go off after hours.”
“So we’re stuck?!” Eddie asks, and Steve gives the door one last yank before giving up.
“Just ’til the power comes back on,” he says, and Eddie can’t think of anything he’d rather avoid more than being stuck with Steve Harrington for an indeterminate amount of time.
That can’t be true. There’s gotta be a failsafe or something, right? That’s a total fire hazard if it doesn’t have one, and the mall wouldn’t cut corners, would it? Oh, who’s Eddie kidding? A corporation cutting corners is, like, a given. Shit. Shit! “For fuck’s sake,” he hisses, doing some yanking of his own on the door handle, flashlight pointed down at the floor, dangling from his belt, but it doesn’t budge. “Fuck! Shit! Son of a fuckin’ bitch, man!”
“Alright, woah,” Steve says with a nervous laugh, “calm down, man—”
“I’m not gonna calm down, we’re fuckin’ trapped!” Eddie snaps, and Steve winces.
“I mean…could be worse? We could be stuck out there, in the heat…?” he offers, and Eddie affixes him with the most supremely unamused look he can muster. “At least we’ve got each other for company, right?”
He can’t make out a lot of Steve’s face in the dark like this, but just looking in the guy’s direction is enough to annoy him. “I’d get heatstroke in a heartbeat if it meant I’d have the ability to be further than five feet from you,” Eddie tells him.
Whatever expression that garners from Steve, Eddie can’t see. “Harsh,” Steve mumbles, and Eddie barks out a laugh.
“Yeah, okay, pardon me for being pissed off that you didn’t do your job and prop the damn door open!” Eddie snaps, and Steve puts his hands up. That, Eddie can see, can make out the gestures in the way his silhouette moves.
“Dude, how was I supposed to know the power would go out?” Steve asks, clearly exasperated, and Eddie hates that that’s a fair point.
He gestures out, all flappy hands and uncoordinated limbs, and he’s pretty sure he smacks a couple of ice cream tubs in his dramatics. “Because it’s common sense! You don’t let a freezer close behind you, man, haven’t you ever worked a food service job before?!” he asks, and Steve is quiet for a while. Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “Of course. Of course you haven’t, because Daddy Harrington probably has enough money to—”
“I’m cut off,” Steve interrupts. “Been cut off for years. He sent me money for basic groceries when I was still in school, but he forced me to get this stupid job when I graduated. Since I didn’t get into any colleges, he wants to teach me a lesson about being too dumb for higher education or some shit. I don’t have his money.”
“Oh,” Eddie says.
“Yeah, ‘oh,’” Steve echoes. “And besides, just because I haven’t worked a job before doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about it. It’s not like the training Scoops gave me was, like, good. Even without a manager, I'm pretty sure we’re not supposed to leave the freezer open.”
That’s…pretty fair, actually. Eddie’s kinda certain he hasn’t seen a manager at Scoops Ahoy since the day the mall opened. And most of his food service job knowledge is based off of sitcoms and movies made for TV that have someone getting trapped in a freezer as a plot device anyway, so who is he to talk?
Still, though, he kind of doesn’t want to give Steve the satisfaction of being right. “Alright, there’s gotta be some way out,” he mutters, grabbing his flashlight to aim it at the doorframe, but there doesn’t seem to be anything. If there is, he certainly doesn’t know what it is. “Shit, shit!”
“Dude,” Steve says, and he sounds a little farther than he’d just been, “chill out. The power’s probably gonna come back any minute now.”
Eddie whirls around, and Steve is sitting on the floor, twirling that stupid sailor hat around his pointer finger. He squints a bit in the beam of light, and Eddie hates that it makes his nose scrunch up all cute and shit. He can’t stand the guy. “You’re infuriating,” he tells Steve, “you know that?”
Lips quirking up in what Eddie’s pretty sure is a sad little smile, Steve shrugs. “So I’ve heard,” he says, and Eddie’s eye twitches. Steve pats the empty spot next to him. “You can sit down, y’know.”
Eddie sits where he is. He doesn’t feel like getting closer to Steve Harrington than strictly necessary, thanks very much. Steve just shrugs, tossing his hat from one pointer finger to the other, and Eddie redirects his flashlight. There’s the soft thump of something hitting the ground, followed by a quiet swear. Eddie snorts. “You drop your hat?”
“Maybe,” Steve says. “You wanna lend me some light?”
“Not particularly,” Eddie says dryly.
Steve just hums. It drives Eddie a little crazy. “Wanna play twenty questions?” Steve asks him, and it’s so goddamn bizarre that Eddie busts out laughing.
“Are you—you’re not serious,” Eddie cackles. “What, like we’re at a high school party? C’mon, man, why the hell do you wanna play twenty questions with me in an ice cream freezer?”
A short pause. “To pass the time, I guess,” Steve says. “You got a better idea? ’Cuz I’m all ears, Munson, really.”
Damn.
Eddie doesn’t have a better idea.
“Okay, fine,” he sighs, “what’s your first question?”
There’s some shuffling, like Steve is sitting up properly, and it’s not endearing, it’s not. If anything, it should be pathetic that he’s so excited to play some dumb party game in the freezer of a nautical-themed ice cream parlor. “What’s your favorite hobby?” Steve asks him. “Like, not the one you do most often, or the one you’re best at, but the one you think is the most fun.”
Eddie makes a face. “You have hobbies that aren’t fun?”
He moves his flashlight over to shine at Steve, who nods. “Yeah, man. Like, I don’t hate them, but they’re not fun. Just something to do to pass the time, or something I do with my dad and his business partners, like golfing,” he says with a shrug. “Go on, answer, what’s your favorite hobby?”
Eddie’s having a hard time getting past the idea that Steve isn’t passionate about his hobbies, but only does them to have something to do for the sake of doing something. Or for the sake of someone else, someone that had apparently cut him off. “Uh,” he says eloquently, “I don’t know. I like all my hobbies.”
Steve tilts his head like a confused dog. It’s dumb. “Really? Huh. Alright, lemme change my question, then. What are your hobbies?”
“I play guitar for my band, I run Dungeons and Dragons campaigns—”
“Oh, shit, really? That’s cool, the kids I babysit play that game, too,” Steve says, and Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. Steve’s head-tilt gets a little tiltier, and he snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you run the club at the high school, don’t you? Hotfire or something?”
“Hellfire,” Eddie corrects hollowly, and Steve winces apologetically.
“Sorry. Shit gets mixed up in my brain sometimes. Buncha concussions, you know how it is,” he dismisses, and Eddie very much does not know how it is. Steve perks up. “Your turn.”
Eddie is, admittedly, kind of dumbfounded. “Uh, what’s your dream job?”
Frowning, Steve glares down at the tile. “Hm. I don’t know.”
At that, Eddie scoffs. “Oh, c’mon, you can’t be serious,” he says. “Everybody’s got a dream job, man, even if it’s totally outlandish. I mean, I wanna be a bigshot metal guitarist for a world-famous band—preferrably mine—even though I know there’s, like, an almost-zero chance of that happening.”
Steve just shrugs. “Maybe, like, be a teacher or something? But I couldn’t get into college, so…not likely,” he says. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Yellow,” Eddie says, “yours?”
“Swear you won’t laugh,” Steve says, and Eddie blinks at him. Steve crosses his arms. “Munson, swear it.”
“Okay, okay, I promise I won’t laugh,” Eddie says. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Tiffany blue,” Steve answers finally, and, come on, Eddie can’t help it if he chuckles just a little. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”
Eddie snickers, trying and failing to hide it behind his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just—that’s such a snooty color to pick,” he wheezes, and Steve glares at him.
He drags his hat around in circles on the ground with one finger and pointedly doesn’t look at Eddie. “Yeah, well, I like it ’cuz it’s my mom’s favorite,” Steve mumbles, brows drawn together, and now Eddie feels kinda bad for laughing. Only a tiny bit, though. Steve glances up at him. “If you had to pick a movie world to live the rest of your life in, which would it be?”
That’s…actually a pretty cool question. Not that Eddie would tell him that.
“Um…my favorite movies are horror movies, so those are a no-go,” he says, and Steve laughs. It’s good-natured and nice, stupid and sparkly. Eddie clears his throat. “But, uh, I’d probably go with Star Wars.”
“No way, me too!” Steve says, and Eddie blinks. Steve grins. “I like the one with the little teddy bear guys, you know the…”
He trails off into an impression of the ewoks, and it’s painfully charming. Annoying. Annoying, not charming. “You know those are called ewoks, not ‘little teddy bears,’ right?” Eddie asks, because he’s nothing if not a pedantic asshole, and Steve just smiles at him.
“Eh, tomato, to-mah-to,” he says. “Your turn.”
Eddie tilts his head back. “Who was your first kiss?” he asks, and Steve doesn’t answer for a while, which is weird. There’s this pained look on his face, and he won’t quite meet Eddie’s eye. “What, is it, like, someone you’ve deemed ‘embarrassing?’”
“That’s…not it,” Steve sighs. “It’s just—I don’t want you to, like, flip out and punch me or some shit, man.”
At that, Eddie laughs, but his curiosity is piqued. “Have you seen me, Harrington? I’m a total toothpick. I’m, like, pretty sure if I tried to punch you, I’d break my own arm,” he says. “Who was it, seriously? Some dorky chick you think I know? Is that why you think I’ll flip out?”
“No,” Steve tells him, “it was, um…it was at camp, summer after fifth grade.”
“I asked you who, not when or where,” Eddie says.
“And I don’t know who it was,” Steve shoots back.
Eddie makes a face. “Oh, bullshit, dude, you were at camp with this girl and you didn’t know who she was?” he scoffs. “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past you to forget, but just say you forgot her name, then.”
“I didn’t forget,” Steve tells him, “I don’t know.”
Crossing his arms, Eddie points his flashlight right at Steve’s eyes. “Be so serious. You gotta know. Why else would you think I’d flip out?”
“Because—! It doesn’t matter.”
“Just tell me! You’re not honoring the rules of the game, Harrington, you’re the one who wanted to play—”
“I keep telling you, I don’t know who it was!”
“Bullshit!”
“I never got his name!”
Record scratch.
Steve’s face goes bright red, and he ducks his head so that Eddie can’t see his expression. It’s just as well, because the flashlight clatters to the ground when Eddie drops it, and he hurries to scoop it back up, eyes as wide as humanly possible. There’s no way. There’s no way, right? He’s just doing this to fuck with Eddie, he has to be, that’s—that has to be what it is. It’s eerily silent, and Eddie shines the flashlight at Steve again, swallowing.
It’s audible. It toes the line between gross and annoying.
Eddie toes that line often.
“It was a dude?” Eddie asks, because he really needs some clarification here. “Your first kiss was with another guy?”
There must be something in his tone that he hadn’t intended to put in there, because Steve’s whole posture shifts. His shoulders square, his jaw goes tight, and he looks down his nose at Eddie, even though they’re both sitting on the ground, like it’s a challenge, like it’s a dare. “You got a problem with that, you keep it to yourself,” Steve says, voice carefully even. “We’re gonna sit here and—and we’re not gonna say anything ’til the power comes back on. Game’s over.”
He looks away again. Eddie’s flashlight flickers, and he turns it off, because it they might need it to get out of the mall once the power comes back, in case the timed lights turn off by the time it does. It’s silent for a long while, and Eddie’s kicking himself. He shouldn’t have pried. Shit, now Steve probably thinks he’s a total asshole.
“Sorry for ruining the game,” Eddie says after a while. “My bad, man, really.”
A long stretch of nothing. Eddie calls Steve’s name after another couple of minutes.
“It’s fine,” Steve says quietly. “I don’t know why I didn’t just, like, lie. I usually do, y’know, when that question comes up.”
“If it, um, makes you feel any better, I’m—I haven’t had one,” Eddie offers. “A first kiss, I mean.”
More silence.
“Are you messing with me?” Steve asks, several long moments later, and Eddie shakes his head, even though they’re bathed in darkness, and Steve can’t see him.
He scoots closer, close enough that he can feel the body heat radiating off of Steve without the two of them touching. “Nope. Cross my heart, hope to die, all that good stuff. Haven’t kissed anybody. Not for lack of trying, mind you, but, uh, pretty sure nobody’s exactly jumping at the chance to kiss the town freak, and it’s not like it’d be any good if they did, because, like I said, zero prior kisses,” Eddie rambles. “I’d probably suck at it.”
A light chuckle. Thank fuck. “Probably,” Steve agrees.
“Probably,” Eddie echoes.
They sit in silence for a while longer, though it isn’t uncomfortable this time, which Eddie supposes is a plus. The freezer is just barely less cold, which means the power’s still out, which sucks. How long are they gonna be trapped in here? It’s chilly as hell. How long is Eddie supposed to be trapped in a freezer with Steve Harrington, armed with the knowledge that he’s apparently kissed one whole boy before?
Eddie definitely isn’t straining to see the time on his watch. He definitely doesn’t watch it tick for fifteen whole fucking minutes before Steve speaks up again. “Hey, uh, what happened to your flashlight?” he asks.
“I’m saving the batteries,” Eddie tells him.
A beat. “Saving the batteries…for what?” Steve asks.
“Oh, I was planning on putting them in my Walkman, actually,” Eddie snaps, a little on the sarcastic side, because they’ve been trapped in here for a while, and the freezer is steadily dropping in temperature. Embarrassed, though, because Steve should arguably be the only really upset person in this freezer right now, Eddie barrels on. “Anyway, we may as well get used to being in the dark.”
“Yeah…” Steve murmurs, trailing off, like there’s another thought accompanying it that he just isn’t saying.
Eddie’s brows furrow. “What?”
“Well, it’s just not that great, is it?” Steve hums. “I wouldn’t mind looking at the mall again, and…maybe…looking at you.”
Eddie snorts. “Really? You like looking at me?” he scoffs.
“Uh…yeah,” Steve admits, voice soft. “I suppose I do.”
Eddie feels his face go hot. “Well, I like looking at you, too,” he confesses under the cover of darkness, because it feels a lot safer than it would if he could see the pitying wince that’s probably on Steve’s face right now.
“Oh, yeah?” Steve asks, sounding vaguely pleased, and Eddie doesn’t get him. He doesn’t understand King Steve, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, Steve from Scoops Ahoy, who apparently babysits D&D-playing kids and likes the ewoks in Star Wars and kissed a boy at camp. Steve’s shoulder presses against his own. “Thanks. For that.”
Eddie swallows. It’s audible again, and he really wishes he knew how to cut that shit out, because it does a hell of a job of giving him away. “Yeah, man, no—um, no problem.”
“You know,” Steve starts, “I could be your first kiss. For practice.”
“For practice,” Eddie repeats flatly.
What an asshole. He should’ve known this was some elaborate setup to get Eddie to admit that all the rumors about him are true, to humiliate him or some shit.
Steve laughs, but it isn’t cruel like Eddie’s expecting. It’s soft, almost embarrassed. “Sorry, I just—that’s how the boy at camp got me to kiss him, figured I’d try the line out,” he says. “Guess I still don’t have my game back.”
“Your game?” Eddie asks, because what the hell is happening right now?
“You know, how I, like, suck at flirting lately,” Steve says. “I mean, I’ve been flirting with you all summer, and it took us getting stuck in a freezer for you to be even a little nice to me. Well, to get you to admit you don’t hate looking at my face, but I’ll take it.”
Record scratch number two.
“I—sorry, what?” Eddie asks, eyes practically bugging out of his head, and Steve shrugs with a quiet laugh. Eddie shakes his head. “Not fucking funny, man, you can’t just—you can’t say shit like that.”
“What, I can’t be honest with you?”
“You’re not—! You aren’t being honest, you’re fucking with me!”
Another little laugh. “Well, I’d like to be, but you don’t seem to like me very much,” Steve tells him. “What’d you say again? ‘When hell freezes over?’ Robin’s gonna have a field day with that ‘You Suck’ board of hers when I tell her I got rejected again.”
Eddie rethinks his entire summer.
Come to think of it, if he doesn’t consider a lot of Steve’s comments to be sarcastic, it actually does come across as incessant flirting.
Son of a bitch.
“How—why are you—what makes you so confident I won’t be an asshole about this?” Eddie asks, utterly bewildered.
Steve tilts his head—the shadows move, he sees the silhouette of Steve’s annoyingly perfect hair sway with the movement. “I mean, considering you apologized for ruining the game after I told you my first kiss was with a dude, figured I’d have nothing to lose except for my pride, of which I have remarkably little,” he says. “I’m pretty much shameless, man. And besides, your whole thing is, like, standing on tables and shitting on everyone else for conforming to society’s expectations, so…it’d be pretty weird if you were homophobic.”
This shit just gets crazier and crazier. “You paid attention to me in high school?” Eddie asks, and his eyes are adjusting to the light now. He can make out the faint, nostalgic smile on Steve’s face.
“Oh, I had the biggest crush on you my freshman year,” Steve tells him. “But, y’know, you made it very apparent you weren’t the biggest fan of jocks, and I’d already joined, like, a bunch of different teams, so—”
Eddie cuts him off by practically smashing his mouth against Steve’s, all jittery nerves. He’s not a very good kisser, but Steve lets out a tiny, pleased hum anyway as he lifts his hands to Eddie’s waist, tugging him closer just slightly. It’s insane. It’s bizarre. By all rules of both basic logic and the Munson Doctrine, this should not be happening. Steve Harrington should not be carefully and softly moving his lips against Eddie’s, but here they are.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie breathes, pulling back, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’re kind of an asshole,” Steve tells him, and Eddie can’t really argue with that, “but, uh, I’m sorry, too. The whole pigtail-pulling strategy really doesn’t work with you, huh?”
The mental image of Steve tugging his hair does something to Eddie that he’s a little too ashamed to admit. “Um,” he manages, “yeah.”
“Sorry about all of high school, then,” Steve says, and he kisses Eddie again.
And just as Steve’s hand snakes underneath Eddie’s shirt, the lights in the freezer come back on, and cold air begins to blast through the vents.
Once again, son of a bitch.
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m0thergoose · 28 days
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TOWL EPISODE 6 THE LAST TIME SPOILERS AHEAD FOR MY RUNNING COMMENTARY
Here we fucking go lads I’m scared
Sexy time again what a way to start, we continue to win 💖
PUTTING THE RING ON LIKE THIS HOLY FUCK 🫠
They look unreal in the uniforms lol
he said I didn’t need to be scared, that it was just the burning - his story about his dad omg it’s gonna come full circle
I love when Rick says thang 😂
Thorne has really been sucked in hasn’t she I don’t think this will end well for her
She has been a good friend to Rick though
Here we go stealthy Michonne she is the GOAT
Omg jadis paintings! Wanna see if there’s any of Ricky dicky
Terry O’Quinn my man 🫶
‘We’re the dead ones Rick’ woooooow
I feel like Michonne is gonna get caught in here I’m on edge
A CAT HOLY FUCK MICHONNE TAKE THAT HOME 😂😂😂😂
nah jadis is a sick bitch for hiding it in the cat
It’s a fucking ESSAY Jesus Christ
‘Rick’s wife’ only bit I liked seeing lol
Rip that shit up Michonne
She’s so upset 😭😭😭
Here we go briefing time 😬
Terry O’Quinn is staring into my soul
Fucking feral Rick flashbacks I love it
Come on Beale spit it out
OMG RICK AND MICHONNE
The toy rabbit?? What’s this about I’m scared
MAMA MICHONNE FLASHBACKS FUCKING GUT ME
Saving one city by sacrificing your home - I feel like this is meant to be what Rick does
I love Rick speaking about his dad for some reason
‘We’re all gonna die’ not Rick and Michonne tho we’re the ones who LIVE
The child evacuation??
14 years to extinction???
Evacuation of 10% of children - so they’re going to let the rest die!!
Spies in selected communities omg are they in the commonwealth!! I swear if Judith or RJ show up on that screen!!!!
Basically CRM is committing genocide
Rick please just kill him lmao
My son 😭😭😭😭😭😭
YAAAAS RICK THANK FUCK
Omg Rick please say we’re the ones who live
RIGHT get out of there now Ricky boy fucking hell
Fuck Rick you gonna have to kill this guy too lmao
I’m so on edge
ALSO halfway through and we’re still at cascadia I just want them HOME 😭😭
Oh no Thorne
Rick just wants to see his kiddies kill me 😭😭😭😭
Why’s he left his hand behind???
IM SO STRESSED ABOUT THORNE SHES GONNA RUIN THIS
This is like them disarming Negan’s explosives on the road, except this time they’re arming them
YAAAAS GIVE HER HIS SWORD
OH NO THORNES FIGURED IT OUT 😱😱😱😱
Holding hands forever I love this
FUUUUUCK
THE EXPLOSION WAS WILD
YEEEESS MICHONNE
FUUUUCK RICK
YAAAAS MICHONNE GET HER MASK
OMG THEY DID IT THE CITY KNOWS THEY CAN GOOOOO
FREE MOVEMENT HAS BEEN ESTABLISHED
NAH IM GONNA CRY
IM CRYING AND ITS NOT EVEN HAPPENED YET
His boots 🥹
IM UNWELL
LOOK AT THEM
MICHONNE AND HER BABIES 🥹🥹🥹
HIM AND HIS BABY GIRL 🥹🥹🥹
IM ACTUALLY SOBBING
YOURE THE BRAVE MAN
NAH IM SOBBING GUYS
HUG YOUR SON DAMMIT
BUT MAYBE YOU COULD CALL ME DAD NAH IM DEAD
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
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zeephyre · 10 months
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CR3: EPISODE 63 SPOILERS
I'm literally losing my mind rn guys
i haven't even finished the episode yet as im typing this, currently ashton is holding laudna as she cries on their shoulder after she sucked the life out of bor'dor.
i always had the suspicion that bor'dor wasn't telling the truth or telling a version of the truth, but i never really talked about it cause everyone was throwing out theories. i had an...inkling that he was connected to ludinus or just ruidus in general, and i was right in a way.
him being ruby vanguard is devastating but not surprising. it connected so many things that i chose to brush off cause i didn't want to seem paranoid. a specific moment being bor'dor killing the angel of the dawn father. during that scene, the way matt described the look in that angel's eyes as it died did not match the way that bor'dor retold it and i thought i had just...forgotten how the actual scene played out. now that i know, even tho i haven't rewatched that episode, i have a feeling that the hatred and righteous judgement i remembered was the accurate version.
i don't think bor'dor is bad, simply because i have no way to come to that conclusion when i know how easy it is to let fear and pain and anger drive you to vengeance -- the hellians are feeling it too, and i feel deep compassion for them so i feel for bor'dor too.
for all of ludinus' preachy bullshit he never gave me the impression that he gave a single fuck about the people who followed him or about the lives he ruined to accomplish his goal. i don't think bor'dor was some big wig, i think he was just a kid who was vulnerable and powerful and easily coerced. i do not think he is without blame -- his actions with the ruby vanguard have led to incomprehensible repercussions for everyone on exandria and outside of exandria too. (bear in mind, we don't even know how the apple bee's soul cycle has affected the fey realm -- or any other realms for that matter).
i think that there was no way bor'dor could have survived this night with the way it went. i don't think there could have been a moment where he snuck away. if he got a lucky roll, maybe. i don't think bor'dor died because /he/ was an unforgivable monster.
he died because laudna, ashton and orym were at their breaking point and none of them wanted to pull each other from that place of hatred and anger. they've spoken about feeling powerless -- terrified and angry at the situation they were forced into when they truly have nothing to do with ludinus' anger at the gods. orym, especially, has been struggling with his grief and his stubbornness, and this moment will have effects on all of them for these upcoming battles and hardships.
laudna. jesus christ. im so upset that delilah is back. or at least pieces of her are thriving inside laudna, seemingly every time she uses her necrotic magic. for a single moment, she felt delilah's complete control over herself and other people in a situation where laudna had no idea what to do and how to get shit done, and as soon as delilah had nothing left of bor'dor to scavenge off of, laudna was back to feeling weak.
i can't even process the lore drops of ashton's heritage and his father and the history of the hishari and the fact that abadina WAS an hishari ???? they need to go that cursed town soon or im gonna lose it. hell, maybe they're already headed there.
deni$e might say she didn't care whether bor'dor lived or died but i know that isn't true because she was a) the only person who didn't actually hurt him and b) she was trying the entire time to get the others to at least interrogate him. i don't think that would work for multiple reasons. bor'dor was yeeted to kingdom come so bor'dor would likely not have anything useful for them atp, and also bor'dor is absolutely not nearly as important to ludinus as they need him to be.
im gonna miss utkarsh 😭
i think that maybe if bells hells was together, he'd live. but ashton, laudna and orym are too... there's something dangerous about these three being separated from their people. dangerous for themselves mentally and for anyone who stands in their way. i NEED bells hells to be reunited again.
it's sad that the characters with such a strong history of loss and betrayal and abandonment and grief and loss of control would have the traitor amongst them. there is nothing that bor'dor could say that would lessen the pain orym feels having lost his husband and his father, of him and his friends being killed by a cruel, vicious comrade of ludinus', of the tempest being trapped /because/ orym was the one who led her straight into it. the gods are all good and well, but i don't think it will EVER be about the gods for orym. i won't say he's correct or in the right for his narrowed vision and hardened heart. he took that locket for a reason, and throwing it aside is a calculated disposal of that inherently inconvenient empathy orym has for people around him. he can't afford to feel. not now.
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the-solar-system52 · 11 months
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‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️FNAF FANDOM WAKEY WAKEY RUIN DLC TRAILER THIS IS NOT A DRILL ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
IM GONNA RANT ABOUT THE DAYCARE ATTENDANT NOW CUZ WHEN I SAW THEM I START PACING AROUND MY ROOM, STOMPING MY FOOT, JUMPING UP AND DOWN, FLAPPING MY HANDS AROUND AND CLICKING MY FINGERS FROM EXCITEMENT‼️‼️‼️‼️ (my body does that sometimes I dunno why though)
IM SOOOO EXCITED TO SEE THEM AGAIN!!!!!!!! IVE BEEN OBSESSED WITH THEM SINCE FNAF SB FIRST CAME OUT BUT THE FANON VERSION OF THEM IS ALWAYS SUPER OOC SO IVE BEEN STARVED FOR CONTENT BUT NOW THEYLL ACTUALLY GET MORE SCREENTIME IN JULY AHAHAJSLSKDNDNDJSJDJNDNDNDDNNE IM SCREAMING RN IM SO HAPPY RAHHHHHH
Ok ok analysis time!
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HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THEM?? DAYCARE ATTENDANT MY GUY WHAT HAPPENED!? It's pretty clear the fire damaged them enough so now they are a mixture of Sun and Moon (that eclipse arcade game was foreshadowing!!) Their design is so cool and also super creepy holy fucking hell!
Slowing down the clip, we can see that they first open a closet the player was in, so maybe their segment will be some sort of hide-and-seek minigame?? We also see that they first jump at us super aggressively, but then step back at wave at us, more friendly-like. My guess is that Moon will be trying to kill us as usual but Sun will be trying to be nice to us and the two will have to fight for control of the body 'Malachite from Steven Universe' style! This would explain why their movements seem almost frantic and clumsy.
Judging by this, I'm not sure if turning on or off the light will have much effect on them anymore since they are both conscious at the same time? Jesus Christ I feel super bad for Sun someone get this dude some therapy :(
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You can't really see this with tumblr image quality, but in the shot of this endoskeleton, I can make out caution tape around the entrance to the daycare? I don't remember this being in the main game so that means someone must've been there to put them up? I don't know if it was put around the entire pizzaplex cuz of the fire or if it was a reason specific to the daycare attendant, but I guess we'll have to wait and see!
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As for the daycare itself, it ain't looking to good. I know ALL of the Pizzaplex got damaged in the fire but something about seeing the once bright and happy daycare destroyed like this makes me really upset :(
EITHER WAY IM SOSOSOSOSOSOOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO EXCITED AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!
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swampstew · 5 months
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KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK - ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ 9
Welcome to Raven’s Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight’s story. Rated Mature for language. Minors DNI
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*Phone app notification goes bing bong*
TikTok – KillerCook has uploaded a new video. Check out their page and make sure you turn on notification so you don’t miss any content!
Title: Countless Cupcakes Description: It’s Heat’s birthday! Enjoy this compilation video of us smashing cupcakes in his face. 4 minute, 30 second video. The thumbnail is Heat’s face, covered with a healthy amount of colorful frosting, someone made a smiley face over where his lips would be, his eyes are blazing red.
*Press Play*
“Hello everyone! KillerCook here with some exciting news – one of my best buddies, FlamingHot420, is celebrating his {redacted} years on this planet. So how else can we show him we love him? By smashing cupcakes in his face when he least expects it. Everyone on the crew made a different flavor, some might be boozy, some might have a surprise inside, and some might be edibles. Let’s see how fucked up we can get him! Make sure you wish him a happy birthday in the comments – and only happy birthday – OR ELSE!” Killer’s finger wagged at the camera before he picked up a cupcake. It was wrapped in a metallic blue foil, topped with blue frosting and vertical white chocolate stripes.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY FUCKER!!” the blonde suddenly screamed as he threw his cupcake across the room. The camera panned to follow the baked confection’s trajectory. Flying through the air until it splattered hilariously into the tall, blue haired cutie. His suit and tie t-shirt was immediately covered as frosting dripped from Heat’s face.
With closed eyes, Heat poked his tongue out and licked the ruined treat hanging off his lip. “Hmmm, blueberry with toasted coconut? Damn that’s RICH. What’s the aftertaste I’m getting, white chocolate?”
“You’re not wrong,” Killer mused, pulling a long spoon from the hole in his helmet, licking up frosting from the bowl. “The white chocolate was to mask the weed taste. I forgot how many grams I put in it.”
“Jesus Christ Killer.”
“I’m lying,” Killer whispered to the camera when it panned back to his face. “I know exactly how much I put in it.”
Kid burst into the background wearing several pointed party hats on his head that resembled a spiky bike helmet, bulky stereo perched on his shoulder that was on but not playing anything.
“KID PIRATES – ASSEMBLE!!!!!!!!”
Before Heat could move, more of the crew began filtering into the kitchen space, each one holding a different cupcake in hand, all wearing party hats and mischievous smirks on their faces.
“Ah shit,” Heat’s shoulders slumped, “You’re really gonna make me run on my birthday?”
“Only if you don’t want to get {redacted} {redacted} to {redacted} and {redacted} gang-bang style,” Kid roared with laughter as his own comment.
“KID YOU CAN’T SAY THAT ON CAMERA!” Killer whipped a spatula full of blue frosting at the Captain.
The redhead dodged the creamy frosting and pressed play on the stereo, blaring a popular birthday rap song that made the speakers boom.
“ATTACK!” The redhead grabbed the second cupcake Wire held in his hand, smushing it into Heat’s gaping jaw. The piped red frosting smeared over Heat’s lips, the cake itself crumbling and squeezing through Kid’s hand as he crushed it for maximum mess.
Heat jumped back for space, pushing aside Killer and Jaguar as he raced for the door to the yard, half choking and half going mmmmmmm at the flavor.
“Was that real Fireball whiskey?!” Heat hoarsely cried out as he stumbled through the threshold.
“YOU BETCH’Y’RE ASS IT IS!”
“You guys are gonna kill me!”
With the same rap song laid over the rest of video, the remaining minutes were a compilation of short clips of each member of the crew smashing their cupcake wherever they could reach on the tattooed bluette. Heat would eat whatever remains he could gobble up and call out the flavors as the camera chased behind him, the rest of the crew coming in and out view as they creatively tried to dive bomb and trip the birthday boy so they could throw cake in his face.
“Chocolate Peppermint!”
“Matcha and Cinnamon!”
“Purple…velvet? You can make red velvet purple? Is there a blue velvet?!”
“Death by Chocolate!”
“Pistachio Rosebud? Didn’t expect that from you Pomp.”
“Pink Lemonade? Do I look like a bitch?”
“Margarita alright that’s more like it!”
“ICE CREAM IN THE MIDDLE! HOLY FUCK!”
“Plain vanilla? Really? Are you basic?”
“Caramel Latte? I feel fancy.”
“NO THE PRESENTATION EVEN LOOKS LIKE A MOSCOW MULE DON’T—”
“Carrot cake!”  
“Boston Crème! That is decadent!”
“Bro I love Cinnamon Toast Crunch!!”
“Mimosa? Is it bottomless? No really is there more?”
“CANNOLI?! Mama Mia…”
“You know I’m a sucker for Kahlua, Wire. Easy win you bastard.”
“Cheesecake center? Well damn!”
“DON’T YOU DARE THROW THAT PICKLE LOOKING CONCOCTION AT ME GIG I’LL FUCKING KILL—” *spews it out. *
“It looks like the Grinch. Is it the Grinch? Is that would the Grinch would taste like? He tastes like weed…ooohhhh.”
“Rumchata? Look at you, fancy as fuck, House.”
“Bro the cookie dough presentation, cookie dough frosting, and cookie dough cake flavor is fucking me up. Was that all cooked – none of it was raw right????”
“Is that real marshmallow fluff? Oh it’s s’mores I love that!”
“Is that supposed to be brains? Jesus Christ I don’t wan— oh! It’s raspberry!”
“CHURRO! BITCH I LOVE CHURROS!”
“…That crème brulee frosting looks sus…”
“Pumpkin Spice, hell yeah.”
“Lemon custard!”
“Caramelized Pear? Oh shit that’s divine!”
“Aw it’s my face!” – SPLAT – “Mmm, yes I do feel like if I was a cupcake flavor, I would be Guiness Chocolate. Exquisite.”
The video ends with a repeat of the chorus fading and a still frame of the Kid Pirates laying down on the floor looking drunk and covered in frosting and cake. Heat is in the center, completely passed out. As the video fades to black, KillerCook’s logo floats to the center before the video ends.
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