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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

Note

okay so lately I have seen a lot of people claim they hate mammon bc he steals from mc, and like there's nothing wrong with disliking a character lol but I don't recall mammon ever stealing from mc?? like the only thing I can think of is that one time in season 1 I think where he was going through their stuff and said he was looking for something to sell (I think?? it's been a while) and beel straight up calling him a liar lmao l'm just wondered if I missed something? or if this is just newer players who maybe misunderstood that one scene? and I figured if anyone would know it would be you lmao

I got so fucking pissed about this (not at you anon <3) cos this is the third time I got an ask like this, that I scrolled all the way down my 'Obey Me Mammon' tag to June/July 2020 and then slowly scrolled my way up pulling all the receipts I could.....I saw this immediately after you sent it and I just finished now...... turns out it takes 5 straight hours to go through my Mammon tag😶

I have answered this exact same ask twice before and I can only assume it's new people? Like honestly you can't play the game for a long time and still think this (they prove this false within the game in LESSON FOUR)

Not only does Mammon NOT steal from MC, he also:

a.) Gets legitimate/legal jobs whenever he wants to buy MC something (which is pretty frequently)

b.) Shares the money with them when he comes into a large sum of money

But anyway here are the links to the posts talking about all this:

(everything is directly taken from canon or based off canon)

A.) No he doesn't steal from MC

• Full Summary of the Lesson 4 locked chapter where he goes through MC's stuff and a compare and contrast of what we know about Mammon from future lessons, events, devilgrams

• First post talking about this, goes more into detail about him not stealing from them

• Second shorter post about how he doesn't steal from them

• They're literally Partners in Crime

• He straight up refuses the Midas touch (multiple times I believe) after realising it means he won't be able to touch MC anymore

• HEADCANON that maybe he steals/borrows their clothes, with their knowledge, to wear

• In the small introductory manga page they say the thing he likes as much as money is MC

• In S3 he admits to loving MC more than he loves money

B.) He goes out of his way to get MC Presents (which we works actual jobs to earn money for)

• Mammon at the Office Devilgram, where he gets an actual office job so he can buy MC a watch he saw them looking at

• In the Movie Date Devilgram he rents out an entire theatre for the two of them because it was the anniversary of the day they first met

• In the You Always Ride Shotgun Devilgram he rents out a pool for the two of them

• He's always giving MC presents

• Usually he buys matching things for them

• He buys them shoes in their favourite colour

• Mammon's love language

• He wants to share his winnings from a lottery with MC

• He finds a secret second map in the pirate au event and tells only MC so they can share the treasure

C.) It's not just MC, he puts the others before Money too

• In the Presents From Mammon Devilgram he buys presents for everyone

• In The Guardian Demon Devilgram he saves a 9yr old orphaned homeless human girl from a mugger, fosters her and plans to pay for all her needs until she's an adult/can provide for herself - which is why he's always in debt to the three witches who look after her for him, there's also extortion going on from them towards him

• He'd rather lose the entire fortune he won than make Luke upset

• List of times he's put others before money

• He straight up tells Luke he doesn't mind missing out on a reward as long as it means Luke is alright

• Socks for Beel

• He gets a stone for his birthday which can give him whatever he wishes for, he wishes for fortune to come to whoever has the stone and then gives the stone to a student who tried to hurt him

D.) How Mammon works as a character

• Solmare makes you form certain expectations about him and then starts breaking them within the next few lessons and it's amazing to witness

• Friendship, Actions & Reality Vs Calling MC 'Servant'

• Mammon, MC and their Friendship

• Mammon being smart and why he comes off as an idiot

• His thoughts about himself vs MC

• He's actively changing and growing as a character and he knows it

• How Mammon actually views himself

• Why there's a difference in his level of affection in public vs privately

• Jerk with a heart of gold trope but better

• Mammon and how much he cares about consent

• How outsiders see Mammon vs how people from the city see Mammon vs how his close friends and family see him

• Chasing some creep away from MC

• How his relationship with MC changes and grows throughout the season

E.) Other reasons to love him

• Examples of how much he loves MC

• How supportive he & MC are of each other

• Some of his funniest moments

• He's objectively terrifying

• Mammon being a good brother

• He's extremely ride or die for MC

• He waits for MC when they've got to stay late at RAD for other work

• Despite being an ancient being all his best memories consist of the time he's spent with MC

• He created a whole line of toys based around missing MC

• Everything he says about loving MC in his 2022 birthday event

• List of things he's good at

• The amount he loves MC

And this is just a few of my posts about mammon, his character and what there's to love about him

And look it's MORE than okay for people to dislike a character but at least dislike them for something that actually happened?

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onboardsorasora · 3 months

Text

Mob Wife!Daniel Pt2? (Max POV)

truly, my lack of self control is my gift to all of you lmao @dancinginthestreet9 this one's for you bestie You can find the OG Post here and here

Daniel was beautiful. He was funny, charming and kind. Daniel was also Christian’s.

When he’d first been offered the job, Esteban had tried to warn him that Daniel was a diva and a hardass. But Max had a rule to never listen to anything Esteban had to say, and it's still held up to this day.

The first time it happened, Daniel had cornered Max in the study. He’d braced him against the wall and sucked his dick. Max was been riddled with anxiety for days after– he’d been pretty sure there was a hit already out on him.

Christian hadn’t said anything and Daniel had continued on like nothing happened.

The first time they fucked, Daniel had begged for it. Daniel had stripped down to his brightly patterned jock and laid down on the bed.

Max’s eyes widened when Daniel spread his legs and stroked the obscene bulge of his dick. He’d stared at Max with a challenging brow raised.

“You should put your clothes back on, maybe.” Max had suggested.

“You should fuck me.” Daniel had bargained instead. He’d flipped onto his hands and knees and arched his back, presenting his hole like the best strippers did. Max had idly wondered if Daniel had been a stripper.

“I think– no. It isn’t a good idea.”

“Your dick tastes so good, it felt amazing in my mouth, I need it in my cunt Maxy. please.”

And Max was only a strong man when there was a gun in his hand. He’d fucked Daniel right there in the guest room, because Daniel didn’t want to disrespect his marriage bed. That guest room eventually became Max’s room after Daniel told Christian he needed Max closer at all times.

The argument over Max had been anticlimatic in Max’s opinion.

“How long?” Christian leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. He looks annoyed. Daniel is sitting pissily on their bed, glaring off to the side. Swollen lips pouting. Christian had come home and caught them making out.

“Why bother ask when you know?” Daniel snarked back, he folded his arms as well.

“Are you gonna stop?” Christian sounded like he was asking if they had weekend plans.

“Fuck no. You’re never here anymore, what am I supposed to do? Hump the bed until you get home?” Daniel looked furious. Max had always wondered about their dynamic, it was clear there was a different conversation being left unsaid. “At least I’m not hiding it.” Daniel snaps.

Christian clenches his jaw but nods and leaves the room. It happened more frequently after that, Max had essentially moved in. Christian eventually came home from whatever it was that had needed his attention. No one brought it up again, it was just a known thing.

Max always tried to be respectful, to not be too bold or overt with Daniel in his presence. He also didn’t get too jealous when Daniel went to Christian, because that was his husband and first love.

So yeah, Daniel was Christian’s but he was also Max’s.

#mobwife daniel #mob wife au #maxiel #max/daniel #christian/daniel #horncciardo #I don't know their ship name. someone please tell me?#my fic #almost fic lol

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messrmoonyy · 1 year

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I just read your nsfw Headcannons for Tess and all I have to say is. Give. Me. The. Alley. Thing. Now. And no one gets hurt

The art of jealousy

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

A/N- this request has been sat in my inbox since I first posted those Headcannons. Which was. A long time ago. I’m sorry. So here it is finally. Also the Headcannons being referred too are right here for anyone that wants to read them. Tess POV cause I really am loving giving a look into her head. I only proofread this once cause Tuesdays are becoming ever so slightly stressful for me so I just wasn’t vibing. So. Anyways. Enjoy.

Warnings- Tess lmao. Possessiveness, jealousy, she’s a lil rough at times but reader likes that, smut: fingering ( reader receiving), sex in a public place, choking, degradation

Word count- 3.8K

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

If Tess was one thing, it was being possessive of shit that was hers. Maybe that was just a side affect- as it were- of the post outbreak world. No one had much that they could truly call theirs anymore. Tess had actually always found it quite interesting how attached people could be to their things. She’d never been the material type. Even pre outbreak she’d never been one for expensive jewellery, flashy cars or designer clothes. And she’d never really understood people’s obsession with it.

Material items took on new forms now. People these days valued things like boots. Or ration cards. Family photos they’d managed to hold onto for all this time. At least they were more practical now she guessed. But still, she wasn’t really one to be overly attached to things.

People too fell under that bracket. She straight up refused to let herself get attached to anyone once the outbreak hit. After losing her entire family within the first week of the outbreak she’d vowed to never let herself get close to anyone again.

And then you’d come along.

She hadn’t meant to fall in love with you. Fuck she’d actually ignored you for several months when she realised she might actually be feeling something for you. But you were persistent. And beautiful. And it was unbelievably irritating but you had a knack at kicking down the walls she’d built up over the years. Brick. By brick. And she had learnt that maybe she did have a possessive streak in her after all.

Because there was truly nothing she despised more than watching someone else flirting with you. And it happened a lot which wasn’t at all surprising. The majority of people she surrounded herself with knew not to mess around when it came to you. They knew that you were off limits. But occasionally someone new would poll their way into the underground scene of Boston, some attempt to establish themselves on the black market, and thoroughly piss her off.

Jealousy crept up on her more frequently than not, she couldn’t help it. She just didn’t like it. Seeing you around someone else.

She knew you weren’t about to run off with some random fuck who thought he could win you round with some ration cards. She had you wrapped tightly around her little finger, just as you had her. But still. It pissed her off.

“ are you hoping if you stare at the back of his head long enough he’ll just drop down dead? “ Joel’s southern drawl hit her ears and she flashed him an irritated look, before looking back over at you. You’d been striking up a deal with someone for over 10 minutes, some new fucker clearly bartering you down for the cost of some pills. But he was being too… touchy.

You were no stranger to flirting your way through deals and Tess had always been surprised at just how much you could raise the prices in trades just by simply… existing. Being a woman in the current climate had never been particularly great. And learning to use what you had to for your own advantages was vital.

‘ men think they’re getting something and they’ll be putty in your hands ‘ that’s what you had said once. And she wasn’t exactly against it, hell she was guilty of doing it herself. But it didn’t change how infuriating it was.

“ you know she won’t do shit. You got that girl eating out of the god damn palm of your hand “ Joel said with a laugh, chewing at a chunk of his rationed beef jerky and eyeing the hand of cards he was holding. Though Tess had long since lost interest in the game they were playing “ ask her to beg at your fuckin feet and she’d do it. Then again, you’d probably do it for her too “ A small smirk pulled at her lips with that. She knew it was true, of course. She trusted you whole heartedly, knowing you had zero interest in anyone else. Especially men. And no one on the entire planet could turn her head.

You were just as infatuated with her as she was with you. It was a mutual obsession that was no where close to burning out.

“ I know “

“ then drop the miserable look on your damn face and play your turn “ she rolled her eyes and took her eyes off of you for a few moments, looking back down at the cards in front of her. She played a card without even really looking at it, her eyes soon trailing back over to you again “ you are making this too damn easy for me “

She didn’t grant him with a response, eyes narrowing as she watched you exchange a half bag of pills for a wad of cards. Clearly more than you’d usually have sold them for, but her small proud smile didn’t last long.

The man stepped closer to you, head bowed as he said something in your ear. You gave a clearly over exaggerated laugh, arm on his shoulder. And she was certain she saw your eyes flick in her direction.

She huffed a laugh, sitting back in her chair and shaking her head in mild disbelief

“ the little shit “ Joel’s eyes drifted over to you too, his brow furrowed as they both watched you flirt with the man.

“ Jesus Christ “ Joel muttered, clearly thinking the same thing Tess was. You were doing it on purpose. Pushing her buttons “ don’t rise to it. It’s what she wants “

“ I know what she fuckin wants “ she narrowed her eyes, watching you across the courtyard as she attempted to continue the game with Joel.

“ hey Tess. How you doin? I was wondering if you had an- “ the sound of one of her customers filled her ears as she kept her eyes trained on you.

“ not now “ she said with a wave of her hand, not even looking up to see who was stood there

“ but- “

“ not. Now “

“ okay okay. That’s cool. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow? Cool cool “ Joel sighed as the man shuffled off sheepishly

“ you’re forfeiting sales now? Will you just go talk to her “ she was tapping her fingers against the table impatiently now. Jealousy and anger swimming in her veins in a dangerous cocktail.

You were always the same. A fucking brat. Pissing her off to get your own way. And she knew exactly what you were trying to get out of her. Piss her off, wind her up, drive her insane so that the second you both got home she’d pin you down against the closest surface and remind you exactly who was in charge for as long as it took for the message to sink in.

But she was in no mood to wait until you got home. If you needed a little reminder of just who wore the trousers in your relationship, she’d remind you. And she’d remind you sooner rather than later.

One more gentle touch of your hand to the man’s chest followed by a glance in her direction was the last nail in the coffin. And she was tossing her cards down on the table.

“ Tess- “ she was up and out of her metal chair before he could finish his sentence, crossing the courtyard in purposeful strides, someone hopping out of her path as she went.

“ are you fuckin done? “ she asked in a low voice as she reached you, throwing a glare towards the man seemed confused at her sudden appearance

“ oh hi Tess “ you said innocently “ everything okay? “ the man took a step back, eyes widening as he looked between the two of you

“ you’re?- I didn’t know- “ she quite enjoyed watching people crumble under the weight of her reputation. Especially men.

“ if you have any idea what’s good for you, you’ll take your pills. And fuck off” she turned to you then “ and you. Come with me “ she walked off before waiting for a response from either of you, making a beeline for the back alley leading out of the courtyard. No one would bother her down there, the only entrance that lead from that way was the one from anyone coming from outside the wall. Which wasn’t very often.

She didn’t have to look behind her to know you’d be following. Even when you were in the mood to piss her off you were still desperate to please.

So she waited a few moments and then you appeared, strolling into the alley like you didn’t have a single care in the world. And she was reaching the limits of her patience.

She grabbed you by the wrist and pushed you back against the wall, hiding effectively behind a stack of wooden crates.

“ you okay Tess? You seem a little tense today “ god you were infuriating. She laughed and shook her head, trapping you against the wall with a hand resting beside your head.

“ the fuck was that back there? Huh? “ confusion twisted into your features, but the smirk tugging at your lips gave it away that you weren’t even remotely confused by her question. You knew exactly what you’d done “ you think it’s funny? “

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“ oh you don’t? “

“ I was just making a trade. You’re a little scary you know, the new ones always prefer to come to me. You should smile a little more “ you reached up and poked at her face lightly “ I think you scared my customer away “

“ good. He needs to keep his fuckin hands to himself “

“ shame. He was quite nice “ the little monster that lived in her chest was trying to claw its way out, a pointless feeling of jealousy threatening to overwhelm her. It truly was pointless. She knew you were toying with her. You were playing her like a violin, messing with her to get what you wanted.

“ wanna go back out to him? Be my fuckin guest “ she knew you wouldn’t. Knew she had you exactly where you wanted to be. Though a small part of her did wonder if you would. Just to piss her off a little more.

“ you should know by now I’m not into the nice type “ she exhaled shortly through her nose and gave a small nod. She knew. Tess was not one for softness and romance. Yeah, from time to time it would slip out. But that’s not what you wanted from her. It’s why you worked together so well.

Her fingers brushed over the exposed skin of your neck, almost annoyed at the lack of purple and red marks she found. Maybe that was why the fucker back there had been so willing and accepting to your loaded advances. How could she have been so careless. To let her possessive marks vanish. Her clear silent brand that you were spoken for.

“ you don’t think I’m nice? “

“ there’s different meanings to different people “ she couldn’t help herself and dropped her head down to your neck, the blank expanse of your skin frustrating her. You tilted your head to give her access to more of you, attacking the blank canvas of flesh with her teeth “ see. Nice girls don’t behave like this. You taught me that “ she laughed against your skin, biting a little harder than she really needed to. Just to hear the delicious sound it would draw from you.

She knew she wasn’t nice. Not in the conventional sense. But you didn’t want nice. You didn’t want a cosy and warm relationship, soft forehead kisses and vanilla sex, cruising along in life and abiding by the rules.

You wanted her. You wanted the way she was rough, she was all teeth and bruises and hair pulls. She threw you around and left you wrecked for anyone else but her. And she knew that was how you were. She knew that was what you wanted. What you needed. Needing some kind of reminder that you were real, that the fucked up mess of the world around you wasnt a nightmare. You needed her to bring you back to life. And she was more than happy to oblige.

“ so what? You gonna take me home? “ she didn’t quite know when exactly she had decided she wasn’t going to take you home. The idea had arisen quite suddenly and she’d decided to act on it just as fast, quite certain she didn’t actually have it in her to take you all the way home. Not when she was so wound up.

That paired with the smugness still interlacing between the syllables of your words… she had a point to prove.

“ no “ you gave her a confused look and now it was her turn to smirk “ you act like that and think you get to choose if we go home or not? Gotta be fuckin kiddin me baby “ she leant in close to your face, her hand moving up and applying pressure to your throat. She felt your breath stutter, your fingers wrapping around her wrist. Not so cocky anymore.

“ Tess someone might- “

“ what? You were okay with behaving like some common fuckin whore out there in front of everyone, but not here for me? Breaking my fuckin heart “ she liked the way you seemed to lose all of your cockiness in an instant. She practically watched it drain from your features.

“ I wasn’t doing shit I was working “ Tess quirked a brow and smiled, fingers moving to unbutton your jeans. The second her fingers slipped into your underwear and she felt how wet you were, her smile grew. She wondered if you knew how much she truly loved how easy it was to make you wet. How much it turned her on just to have you so willingly at her mercy, how much you so clearly wanted to be used by her even if you attempted to deny it.

“ I’m not stupid. I know what you were doing. You think I didn’t know this is what you wanted? “ a soft moan slipped past your lips as she dragged your arousal up and slowly circled your clit “ you wet for me or that fucker back there? Huh? “

“ what do you fuckin think? “ Tess raised her eyebrows and shook her head, not the biggest fan of your tone of voice. Your breath hitched as she set herself into a steady rhythm, losing your cool and cocky demeanour as she worked you into a mess. It never took her long. She could read you like a book and knew how and where to touch you to have you melting in minutes.

“ the attitude on you sweetheart “ she increased the speed of her fingers, applied more pressure to your neck. She watched the way your eyes fluttered closed, loving the way the light headed bliss washed over you “ that’s it baby, can’t talk back now can you “

Your eyes fell onto hers as she slipped two fingers into you, not bothering to ease you into it with one. You were wet enough for it, she knew.

“ fuck- “

“ you think you’re so powerful don’t you? Thinking you can fuck around like that? Look at you now “ she kept her voice low, in that tone that she knew you loved. That made your velvety walls flutter against the fingers she was thrusting in and out of you roughly “ do you think they all know back there? That you’re back here with me getting fucked like a little slut? Do you? “

You whimpered out an answer your nails digging painfully into the skin of her wrist

“ I’m sorry “ your whimpers and whines were cute but she found it mildly funny that you thought they would make her go easy on you. She was only getting started.

“ not good enough “ her thumb applied pressure to your clit and you moaned loudly at the feeling “ acting like you’re so big. So bad. But who’s the one getting fucked in an alley? What do you think they’d say if they saw you now? Saw you a pathetic mess having your cunt stretched out by my fingers? Hmm? “

“ I- I said I’m sorry. I’m- fuck “

“ you should be. I look after you, I take care of you. And yet you behave like that? Such a spoiled little brat. You want more? I bet you want more don’t you “ your moans were increasing in pitch and she was a little cautious of being caught, but she was far too preoccupied by you to care completely. By the own arousal pooling in her belly, she didn’t need to be touched to get off. Watching you fall apart at her hands was enough

“ yes. Yes. More “ you begged. She loved hearing you beg.

“ greedy girl “ she glanced down at her hand that was hidden in your jeans and smiled, adjusting the slightly awkward angle and carefully adding a third finger to the mix. You winced at the new stretch and she gave you a moment before continuing her movements.

“ fuck Tess “ the sounds falling from your mouth mixed with the sopping sound of your cunt stretching around her fingers was almost too distracting, fighting the urge to stop and take you home so she could fuck you properly.

You were getting louder, even when she stifled your sounds for a moment with a more firm grip on your throat. When she could feel your pulse hammering beneath her finger tips.

“ nice and quiet. Or do you want them all to hear you? Is that what you want? “ it’s what she wanted. Deep down. A part of her desperately wanted people to hear, to remind everyone and anyone that thought they had a chance with you to back off. But a louder part of her was yelling at her, that she didn’t want anyone finding you both there. So you’d have to quiet down “ quiet “ she warned.

She sighed in mild annoyance when you didn’t listen.

“ sorry I- I can’t- “ so she clamped her hand down over your mouth and shook her head in disappointment. Though internally she was unbelievably fucking smug, very much getting off on the fact that you couldn’t control yourself. Because of her. You were a whimpering, shuddering wreck because of her.

She wondered if she should have planned this a little more thoroughly before executing it. If she could’ve roped Joel into dragging the man you had been flirting with down that alley too. Forced him to watch. Get a couple of hits in to really cement the fact. That you were hers. No one else’s. You weren’t to be touched. Or looked at. Or even thought about but anyone but her.

In an ideal world where she didn’t act on impulse and actually planned that exact moment, that’s what would have happened. Maybe she’d have even taken you some place more secluded. Where she didn’t have to force you to be quiet, where she could let you be loud. Let that bastards ears be filled with you moaning her name. The wet sounds of your cunt soaking her fingers.

He’d never get to have you like that. He’d never get to feel the way you clenched on her fingers, the way your inner walls were so soft. No one would. Only her.

But maybe that was for another time. In that moment she was quite pleased with herself, pleased with the way she had you whimpering into her one hand and dripping all over the other.

She wished you could see how pathetic you looked there for her, squirming in her hold, eyes rolling to the back of your head as she pushed you closer the edge. Her hand across your mouth, neck covered in fresh hickeys, your arms grazing against the brick wall.

“ I don’t want you acting like that anymore. You understand me? “ she curled her fingers as she said it, pressing at the spot she knew sent you spiralling. That she knew would render you unable to respond, that gave you that wonderful blank look in your eyes when all you could think about was her. Exactly as she wanted you. You nodded your head, eyes falling closed “ I can’t have you showing me up like that again“

She couldn’t. She didn’t need people seeing you treat her like a pushover, so easily able to walk all over her. She was in charge. She had the control. You were hers

“ who do you belong to? “ she asked you, moving her hand down from your mouth and gripping at your chin “ who? “

“ you “ you said breathlessly, your chest heaving and grip on her wrist tightening. She knew you well enough to know when you were almost there, recognised the sounds. The look in your eyes. The way you tightened around her fingers.

“ say it again”

“ fuck- “ she was a little cautious of how loud you were being again but she wanted to hear you say it, needed you to say her name and feed the jealous creature sitting in her chest.

“ say it or I swear I will leave you here like this “ she threatened “ say my name baby “

“ Tess “ you gasped, voice high and breathy “ Tess. You I belong to you please- “ she smiled and gave a small nod.

“ that’s my girl “ she moved her hand back over your mouth as you came, whining loudly even muffled by her fingers “ you fuckin remember that yeah? You’re mine “ she said against your ear as she worked you through it, coming over her fingers “ all mine “ she kept going, only withdrawing her fingers when you slumped against her. Legs shaking and chest heaving as you caught your breath.

She dropped her hand from your mouth, eyes scanning your face and an overwhelming smugness settling over her at your fucked out appearance.

“ did I make myself clear? “ she asked quietly, thumb brushing over your lips.

“ crystal “ she pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting you go and taking a step back, running a hand through her hair as she looked at her handiwork. It was clear as day what had just happened and she took great pride in the fact that you would walk back into that courtyard, and everyone would know. Bruises were blooming on your throat, your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from your teeth sinking into them, hair dishevelled.

“ I’ll let you get back to work then shall I? “ she said with a smile as if it were the most normal thing.

“ you fuckin kidding me? “ she shrugged and leant forward to press a kiss to your cheek “ just keep your hands to yourself this time “ then she stepped back and made her way back to Joel, almost sauntering her way back to the table where he was still sat.

The cat who had gotten the cream.

“ you are fuckin unbelievable “ he muttered with a shake of his head as she sat back in her chair, arms folded over her chest and eyes locked on the entrance to the alleyway waiting for you to appear.

“ deal me some new cards Texas “ he shook his head with a sigh but gathered up the cards again as you re appeared. You had tried to make yourself look more presentable by the looks of things, but even if people could excuse the flushed look of your cheeks or the glazed look in your eyes. There was no escaping the freshly bloomed artwork she’d left on your neck.

She’d like to see anyone try it on with you now.

#tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #smut #x you #x reader #other characters for exposure:#Joel miller #Ellie Williams #tlou hbo #Anna torv

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bi-bats · 9 months

Note

oh? the couch? 👀

I actually posted a snippet of it once here!! Instead of giving you the premise, I'm going to give you a longer snippet! This chunk happens before the one I linked above (the one that was for word game wednesday):

“Well fortunately for me, you don’t want me dead anymore,” Tim smirked, and Jason twitched a little, letting out a laugh that was a little strained. He thought it was fair, considering how often Jason made other people make the same face when he joked about his death. While Jason got his face under control, Tim turned, sliding his toes out from under Jason’s thigh and dropping his feet to the floor, leaning his head back on Jason’s arm as he sipped at his coffee. The thing was, Jason had been… touchy. When they were alone. They seemed to be alone together more frequently than they used to be, too, and something about that always made Tim feel warm. The touching wasn’t anything that pushed boundaries, just sitting a little closer together than they would have before, ruffles of his hair, occasional shows of physical affection, but it was enough for him to notice the difference. He dismissed the idea that Jason was interested every time he suspected it, though. Tim was biased, he wanted it to be true, and it wasn’t like he’d never seen Jason like this with anyone. He’d seen Kori throw her arm around him while they ate, Roy fall asleep on his shoulder. He’d seen Jason lay his head in Donna’s lap, seen him fully cuddling with Kyle once or twice, though Tim sort of suspected they used to have something more than friendship. The point was, Jason was just like this with his friends. It still made that pleased thing lounge in his gut that Jason was like that with him, too. And when Tim laid his head back on Jason’s arm, he dropped it around Tim’s shoulder, pulling him against his side so he could pillow his head on his chest. “Seriously, Tim. You gotta get more sleep, or if you’re not gonna do that, at least be more careful where you crash.” “Where’d I crash?” “An apartment rooftop. With roof access.” Jason frowned down at him, and Tim looked into his coffee. “It could’ve been bad, little bird.” That was the other new thing. The nicknames. Tim found he didn’t mind little bird as much. Little red made him feel like Jason’s kid brother, like he was trying to imitate him and falling short of the mark. Little bird made him feel… precious. Like he was something Jason valued. Something he wanted to keep safe. “Oh, that one’s fine?” Jason asked. “It’s better,” Tim agreed. “Sorry for making you peel me off a rooftop. I was being reckless.” “Don’t beat yourself up about it, you didn’t make me do anything. Just be more careful.” “Aw, are you worried about me?” Tim tried to tease, peeking up at Jason’s face, waiting for him to blush and deny it the way he usually did. It always felt good to see that dusting of pink across his freckled cheeks, because that was how Tim knew he was lying. But instead, Jason looked down at him, his blue-green eyes unusually sincere. “Wouldn’t you be worried if you found me passed out on a rooftop?”

I'm not working on this one super actively atm, but it does have a cute little plot and would probably be a one-shot. I'd guess maybe 20k words or less? (Then again, I'm terrible at predicting the length of my pieces so take that with a grain of salt lmao)

Anyways, hope you enjoyed and thanks for the ask as always bestie!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖

#tag games #batwrites #batsasks #🫘 this was a terrible idea #wip #jaytim

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reds-skull · 3 months

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BLOOD||HUNGER

[AO3]

Sooo I maybe started writing the new AU already... and maybe already wrote 2 chapters...

I'll say it on ao3, but I'm planning on having longer chapters for this fic compared to Not Alive, Nor Dead, so I won't be posting as frequently. That being said, I did write these 2 chapters in 2 days so... it might happen anyway lmao.

Also, I'll be putting the cut before the chapter so it will be easier to scroll by if any of you aren't interested.

As a sidenote, for this fic I'll be adding qoutes at the top of each chapter, and I suggest reading them because they are pretty important to the story!

Now, onto chapter 1, "Wræclast (Path of Exile)"

Page 1 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 1:

Often were the stars, the only witness to me, To my regrets, to the stories of a fallen knight, It is only the sun and moon, that could hear my words, And yet none understand, the cries of a fallen man, The man who hides friends, in dark and rich earth, A friendless man, that he is. Where have the horses gone? Where have their masters leapt? Where have the knights fallen? The dark is all he knows, nightshadows risen, He walks alone, a blind man.

Often was Soap told, “stop trying to be the hero, MacTavish.”

He was told that by his CO on the mission that earned him his callsign, where he first found the true meaning of war. He was told that on missions he refused to listen, where he would run off to try and save what little life was left to die.

He was told that on the day he was dishonorably discharged for disobeying direct orders.

John likes to pretend life afterwards was peaceful. That while, yes, he hasn’t held down a job for longer than 4 months since, and he’s behind on a couple of months on rent, and he walks alone more often than not, he is happy. Content.

Right now, drenched in rainwater and mud, acting amounts to fuck all.

His heart beats fast, faster than it ever did on the field. Because this isn’t the field, John isn’t a soldier. He doesn’t belong in wars anymore.

John’s eyes dart around the dark alleys of the city, the silence a discomfort more than anything. Silence means everything else has ran away, or died. He shudders again, the chill biting through his clothes (civilian, flimsy, made more for show than any practicality), when he hears a whimper. He freezes in his tracks and strains his ears.

“Shhh” a small voice whispers, following words in a language he doesn’t understand. They belong to someone young, far too young to be here alone.

A voice in his mind tells John to turn away. “Don’t be a hero. Don’t be a hero.” it screams. John tramples it down.

He doesn’t need to be a hero, but he won’t ignore the literal cries of children. He can take them with him as they get out of this city.

Not a hero. Not a fucking hero.

John slowly gets closer to the sobbing kids, zeroing in on a small shed, its wooden doors rotten. “Hey” he whispers softly, and the voices instantly quiet. “I’m not gonna hurt ye, I’m not one of them.”

The doors creak slightly as one eye peaks at him, wide and teary. He keeps his hands above his head, showing his lack of gear and weapons. After a few moments, the door opens.

A child, no older than 13, hugs a toddler, both big eyes look over him concernedly. John smiles, tried to seem reassuring even as his heart breaks a little more. It’s not a sight he ever got used to, children in war zones. He hoped he wouldn’t see it again, but life, as they say, finds a way.

“Where are yer parents?” John lowers his arms and squats slowly. The older kid frowns, opening and closing her mouth. “They… not...” she mumbles in English, sputtering a few more words he doesn’t know.

“Do ye know where they are?” he tried asking.

The kid carefully lets go of the toddler, their sibling, John assumes, and starts motioning with her arms.

She folds her fingers in the shape of a pistol, brings it to John’s head, and presses the pretend trigger. Her eyes don’t waver from his, and it strikes him how empty they are, as if all life bled out of them with the mimed shot.

John nods. He wished he had time to let them mourn, but he fears for the moment they hear boot-clad steps echo through the streets again, in search for more children to orphan.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get ye out of ‘ere.” he offers the older sister a hand, and the kid takes it hesitantly, “stay close to me, and we will get through this.” The kid holds tight onto the toddler in her other hand, and nods.

As he guides the children through the narrow streets, mud splashing under their feet, John wonders back to the moment it all started.

A few hours earlier

John stumbles into a bar. Or at least he thinks it’s a bar, either that or it's a “vap”. He’s still not really familiar with the alphabet here.

The place is quite empty, save for a few rugged older men staring him down. John steps up to the counter, noticing the bottles of alcohol on display, and tries to flag the bartender. The man stops his conversation with another patron, and asks, “what?” with a heavy accent.

John nods behind him, “ye have Scotch?”

The bartender stares for a moment, before scoffing and turning around, grabbing a bottle off the higher shelf, and slamming it down in front of John. He couldn’t read the label, but the color seemed right at the very least.

“Cash?” the bartender grunts, and John pulls out a few bills to hand him. The man counts them, satisfied, and turns back to his previous conversation partner, “enjoy”.

John grins, “I’ll certainly will, cheers.” He takes one of the shot glasses and fills up a few fingers worth of the amber liquid. He lifts the glass and takes a swig, only to grimace when it burns down his throat.

It’s fuckin’ Bourbon. John glares at the offending bottle. They don’t have Scotch, but they got this shite? He should’ve stayed in Scotland.

John sighs, gloomily sipping on the foul drink. He knows he couldn’t have stayed there a second longer, senses buzzing for something more than a monotonous desk job and a gym full of pumped pricks who wouldn’t survive a fraction of what he had. It felt like he was choking, drowning in the repetition.

He tried tamping down his need for action, for the first few months after the discharge. His therapist suggested him to find a new hobby, but nothing truly interested him. John knew what he really wanted, and it wasn’t steamin’ knitting another scarf.

The only thing he did, when he wasn’t in his stupidly mind-numbing job, or working out, was drawing. It’s a hobby he had while in service, sketching the locations he went to while on missions, passing the time in between fights. Little notes from debriefs, reminders, memorabilia.

His journal from the service was confiscated. Too many sensitive details, they told him. John fought tooth and nail, but it didn’t matter.

He bought a new one, but it was a pathetic copy of his previous journal. The drawings meant nothing to him, just as much as his surroundings did, so John started sketching from memory. Against his therapist’s instructions, he started thinking more and more about the past.

It started consuming him. John couldn’t focus on the job, got told off, and because he was a little shit, talked back.

He stopped going to the gym, instead going to self defence classes, where he was usually more experienced than the instructor themselves, but his blood still cheered every time he sparred with someone. Eventually, he got kicked out of those, for being too aggressive. It was hard to hold back, when he was used to sparring with soldiers.

John went to airsoft fields, the guns a familiar weight in his arms. It settled something in him for a while, but he grew bored of shooting down inexperienced teens.

It came to a breaking point when he was threatened with being evicted. His sister called the day before, screaming at John to get it together, crying that he wasn’t himself anymore, begging him to just keep down one fuckin’ job for more than a few months.

He said nothing in response, but it hurt. It hurt, knowing she was right. That he was fucking broken.

So, John just left. Took all of his few belongings, the rest of his money, and hopped on the nearest train.

After a couple of weeks, he arrived here, to this random city in the middle of nowhere. Without enough money to get onto the next train, he stayed, stuck. At least the food was cheap, and he found a nice enough motel to stay in.

As he swallows another mouthful of Bourbon, he distantly thinks perhaps it’s not the best use of money, especially when he’s not even really enjoying it, when a gunshot pierces through the air. The entire bar was silenced, everyone holding their breaths.

And it all went straight to hell from there.

Glass shattered as stray bullets hit the building, people screamed as they ran inside for cover, the wails and cries deafening as they mix.

John’s heart was beating so fast he felt like it’s going to explode, and he realized he’s not a soldier anymore. His body, his mind, didn’t feel a comforting familiarity in the crackling gunshots, in the perfected chaos of war.

No, John was terrified.

The gunshots drew closer, and John spotted a back exit, dashing towards it, pulling the bartender with him.

“This way!” he shouted behind him, and not a moment later the body in his arm fell, the large man taking John down with him.

His head bounced off the ground harshly, his nose radiating pain across his face. John grunted and took hold of the man crushing him, turning him over to see red blooming over his chest, eyes lifeless and dull as they roll around his skull aimlessly.

John stilled, staring at the eyes, unbelieving. His mind was racing, questions muddling his senses, loudest of them all is “how is this real?!”.

His mind quieted when he heard boots crush broken glass, a radio buzzing with unintelligible commands. John only caught bits and pieces, his heartbeat so loud in his ears he couldn’t catch more than “Kill everyone.”

The body of the bartender was still warm, sticky heat travelling down his hands, soiling them.

This would be the last time he would feel warmth.

John wishes he could speak the kids’ language, tell them how brave they are. The older sister kept talking to her little brother, the toddler sniffing occasionally.

He gave them his jacket a while back, the two of them small enough to both fit under it. As the night grew darker, the cold settled in, and John would be shivering from it if the adrenaline wasn’t already making him tremble.

They luckily haven’t encountered any soldiers, their path devoid of any life. John steered them towards the outskirts, where he first arrived to the city. He’s hoping there would be someone to take them there, either by car or train.

And if everyone else is dead… John hopes he still remembers how to hot-wire a car.

His thoughts are interrupted by the little toddler’s squealing, pointing ahead to something off in the distance. John swiveled his head to see a silhouette of a person, and instantly pulled the children off to a nearby house.

John feels the older sister tugging on his hand, trying to get out and into the open, “stay here, kid!” he whisper-shouts, but the child insists, pointing at the person and saying “they good. Know.”

John peaks out to look at the person, who is now searching around, lowly calling out two names.

“You’re Maria and Victor?” he asks the kids, and they nod, expression lighting up. He sighs in relief - they’re more lucky than he thought.

He lets the sister, Maria, drag him over to the searching man. She called out, and they ran over to hug each other, the man crying and repeating the same phrase over and over. John stood off to the side, a small smile on his face.

He’s not being a hero, but actually saving someone feels good.

Maria points at him, speaking quickly in her mother tongue. The man stared him up and down, and rose to shake his hand. “I don’t know how to speak good enough to thank you.” he says slowly.

John shakes his head, “don’t worry ‘bout that. Do you have a way out of here? A car?”

The man nods, retracting his hand to hold onto the two siblings, “car yes, train not working anymore. You?”

“I have nothing. You mind if I join you?”

The man waves his hand, “follow me.”

Relief fills his lungs, and John finally feels his heart slowing. Tiredness washes over him, but he knows this is no time to rest. Just a little longer.

The cruel crunch of a boot makes the group freeze. A soldier walks ahead of them, rifle in his hand, barrel searching for more victims to murder. John pulls the man and the siblings behind him, lifting a finger to his lips to quiet them.

For a moment, he considers waiting the soldier out, letting him pass and sneaking around, but John knows better. Leaving a hostile at their backs is a death wish.

He takes a step forward, but the man stops him, eyes frightful and questioning. John takes the hand on his bicep and pulls it off of him slowly, and tried to convey with his eyes that it’s okay. The man lets him go, nodding and pulling the children away, shielding them from the fight to come. Whether he thinks John will win or not, is unclear.

The soldier is currently searching a house in front of them, flashlight shining through the darkened windows. John drops to a crouch, making his way slowly towards him.

There’s a knife strapped loosely to his thigh. Perfect.

He holds his breath as he reaches for the blade, the soldier turning his rifle from side to side.

His fingers wrap around the hilt just as the soldier starts turning.

“What-” He hears the soldier mutter, and John instantly strikes.

The knife slides perfectly into the soldier’s side, in between the tacvest’s plates. The sharp edge cuts through muscle and fat like butter, and John easily pulls it back out, dropping low to dodge the butt-end of the rifle heading for him.

The soldier snarls, and tried to take aim, but John disarms him swiftly, slicing the veins of his wrists, making the gun fly off to the side and clatter to the paved ground.

The soldier’s eyes, furious, glare at his as he slams the knife into his exposed neck.

The life fades from them as John twists the blade, letting the body fall to the ground, dead.

John is left standing, eyes staring at his reflection in the window. The man standing in front of him was bloodied, roughened, and fucking deranged.

He turns to look at the gun, the raindrops softly pattering on its metallic black body. John breathes heavily as he takes a wobbly step towards it.

The rifle, a Kastov-762, is one he knows well. He knows the way the mag clicks in when you reload it, the sound of the bullet travelling to the chamber, the way the air splits before the bullet as it’s being shot.

He knows the damage it can do to a person. He has felt it on his own flesh.

John could leave it. He could walk away, run off with the man and the children. He could turn his back to all of this suffering, like a civilian would.

He could decide, for once, not to try and be a hero.

When John drops to his knees, it’s as if the rest of the world holds its breath. As he drags fingers over metal and steel, he brushes off the dust that settled over his past self.

As he lifts the gun, checking the mag to see the shiny bullets, the man that rises is not John. He’s not the broken veteran, the unemployed asshole, the adrenaline junkie that can never find his fix.

Soap rises to his feet, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes calculating over his surroundings. He walks over to the man, back straight, heart calm and collected.

“Follow me”, he orders, gun at the ready. The man flicks his stare between the dead soldier, the gun, and him. He walks out of the shadows, covering the children’s eyes.

Soap notices the radio crackle to life, hearing “-do you copy?!”. He takes it and crushes it under his boot. Putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, he growls, “more are coming, we need to move.”

He takes the man into one of the narrow alleys, hearing a commotion behind him as soldiers find the body. They almost reach the parked vehicles by the train station when they run into several soldiers.

The two groups lock eyes for a moment, before Soap and the rest are being shot at. He forces the others behind a wall, the children crying as the man hugs them tight, and Soap readies his gun.

He breathes. In for 5 seconds, hold for 5, release.

Soap sharply rounds the corner, silent footsteps run behind their attackers.

In for 5, hold for 5, release.

The soldiers are slowly closing in on the corner hiding the man and kids. Soap takes aim…

In for 5…

Hold for 5…

Release.

He shoots, taking down the hostiles with 5 perfect headshots.

He jumps down from his vantage point, scanning the streets around them for backup. Soap clears them and returns to the civilians, the man trying to calm the children to no avail.

“We’re clear, where’s yer car?” Soap gently pushes the man out when his feet linger. The man stares wide-eyed at the bodies before steeling his gaze and pointing to a blue truck, “there.”

Soap and the man walk to it, the area blessedly clear. The man places the children down as he unlocks the vehicle, the little kids instantly grasping at soap’s pant leg.

“Yer alright now, loves. Yer going to be safe soon.” he brushes the hair off their foreheads, their little bodies trembling from the cold and fear.

The man opens the doors and herds the kids in, taking a blanket from the back and wrapping them tightly. He closes the door and motions Soap to go around to the passenger sit, but he shakes his head.

The man’s brows furrow, “you not coming?”

“No.” he looks back to the city, “I need to help the rest, if anyone else is alive there.”

The man pauses, “you… you die. They kill you.” he stresses. “Come with me.”

Soap looks back at him, and smiles. “I can’t. Sorry.”

The man sighs, dragging a hand over his weary face. When the hand drops, he gives Soap a kind, yet sad smile.

The man reaches to shake his hand, “Mihail.” he says.

“Soap.”

The man squeezed his hand, “good luck.”, and lets go to get into the driver’s sit.

Soap watches the truck drive off into the inky night, letting out a breath.

It should scare him, how easily he let his only escape slip between his fingers like water.

But he is calm, for the first time since he was discharged, he feels in control. The blood on his hands lingers, he is in his rightful place.

To the blood and devastation, Soap walks back, his heart beats a single goal.

His mission, save civilians, take down hostiles. As it always was, as it always should be.

Soap may never be a hero, but he will damn well try.

He is nothing otherwise.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod soap #john soap mactavish #BLOOD||HUNGER #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #if it wasnt clear the book im quoting at the top doesnt exist #its a fictional codex of middle english poetry #that exist in the world of the fic but not our. if that makes sense #so im writing it like im translating a middle english poem #im very excited about this :]

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robotsandramblings · 10 months

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Bad Batch + napping headcanons

(i'm sure this has been discussed many times before, it's nothing new rly, but i wanted to get my thoughts out bc i was rambling on about this in the tags of another post lmao)

this got so long wtf??? so, short version here, full version under the readmore :P

Crosshair -- frequent, instant, power naps in the daytime

(often has trouble sleeping due to enhanced night vision)

Hunter -- "close my eyes and try to relax" type 'napping'

(also has trouble sleeping, sometimes, due to enhanced senses)

(also, y'know when your friends/relatives can tell you're PMSing because of your particular/unusual emotional & physical symptoms? the boys can tell when "it's time" for Hunter to have a proper nap in much the same way lmao)

(cue an unspoken group effort to give him quiet time)

Tech -- can power nap but hates taking naps; often ends up falling asleep in the middle of doing stuff while "resting his eyes"

Wrecker -- can nap anywhere&time, but his naps are long and deep and he's hard to wake up sometimes

Echo -- can't nap (and even if he could, he wouldn't); but will "shut his eyes and try to relax" nap, if need be

bonus #1: Rex -- can only nap if he's physically in contact with someone he trusts

bonus #2: Gregor -- unintentionally "fake" naps, ie. looks so relaxed that people think he's asleep but he's actually awake and just has his eyes closed; prefers to be touching or cuddling someone when 'napping', doesn't matter who lol

((detailed version below!))

as i said in another post, i believe Crosshair has perfected the art of the instant power nap in the daytime

as part of his dna tampering, the kaminoans gave Crosshair excellent night vision

however since he wasn't born naturally with it, it still bothers him at night when he's trying to sleep. hence daytime power napping.

Hunter also has some degree of night vision; coupled with his enhanced senses and related headaches, he also has trouble sleeping sometimes.

like, i figure by now, he's taught himself how to tune out most distractions so he can sleep. but he still struggles, esp in unfamiliar/new areas (unlike their bunk room on Kamino or on the Marauder, where i'm sure he has no problem falling asleep, even when the boys are all still up and talking)

anyways, i think that Hunter struggles to take proper naps. he usually does the "close my eyes and relax" type of 'napping'

but when Hunter does need a nap? like really truly needs a proper sleepytime nap? the boys know it. oh boy do they ever.

it's like when a friend/relative realizes you're PMSing because you're overly/unusually emotional or cranky hgfghgfdfghjkl

that's what over-tired Hunter is like - he just gets a very specific way emotionally (i'm thinking shorter temper, thinner patience, clipped tone of voice; on the flip side, if he sees something that makes him sad, his eyes will immediately glisten with tears, and he's ultra quiet and reserved the whole day)...

...and the boys have learned to recognize all the mental and physical signs, in Hunter's body language and tone of voice and reactions to things

and once they internally realize "ahhh it's Hunter Naptime," there's an immediate unspoken group effort to go into Naptime Mode: collect supplies (blankets, water, snacks, outerspace-Advil), leave Hunter the hell alone, and make as little noise as possible for the next few hours.

like, Hunter literally does not have to ask them for quiet time anymore, they already know. (sometimes even before Hunter himself does!)

on that note, Hunter himself does usually recognize his own physical warning signs. like, he feels fatigued in a specific way, or his eyes or head aches in a particular way that's only from overtiredness.

like Crosshair, Tech can power nap anywhere at anytime. he just choses not to because he hates napping - he'd rather be working on something

so it usually ends up being that Tech falls asleep in the middle of something while he was just "resting his eyes for a minute"

Wrecker, as we've basically already seen, can and will nap anywhere at anytime.

but not quick power naps - he tends to fall into a deep and long nap, and it can be hard to wake him up

like if he falls asleep whilst on you in any way, you're screwed bc you ain't movin' for a while lol

Echo can't nap; and even if he could, he wouldn't. mostly bc he likes to be alert and/or ready at all times. but even when he's at ease, he's just not a napper.

when rest is needed, he's like more like Hunter, preferring the "close my eyes and try to relax" type of 'napping'

and hey, how about a couple fun bonuses? :P

Rex can only nap if he's physically in contact with someone he trusts (back-to-back sitting upright or laying down, lean on shoulder, using their stomach/thigh/leg as a pillow, etc.)

Gregor has unintentionally perfected the art of "fake napping." similar to Hunter and Echo, he can't fall asleep during a nap, but he will shut his eyes and relax. however, unlike the others, he's very calm and relaxed when he 'naps', so much that it always looks like he's sleeping.

(Gregor hears a lot of gossip and shit this way; people always assume he's really asleep, so they talk about whatever around him, but he's actually hearing everything lol)

Gregor also prefers to be physically in contact with someone when he 'naps'. even more than Rex. if Gregor can wrap himself around a limb or do a full body cuddle up, he will!! and it doesn't matter who lol

(for Rex it's a feeling of safety thing; for Gregor it's just because he's naturally a 'touchy-feely' type person)

#am i PROJECTING a lil bit maybe because i'm on my period and didn't sleep last night??? yeah! maybe!! hgfdfghgfghkl #but actually this was fun to do though which is why it got so long lol #the bad batch #crosshair #hunter #tech #echo #wrecker #captain rex #captain gregor #star wars #sw headcanons #fun fact: personally i very rarely take naps and on rare occassion when i do feel the need i can only do the ''close my eyes & relax'' nap #i think the only time i actually fall asleep during a nap is the odd time when i'm super duper fatigued from my period #that (a true sleepy nap) is literally a once-in-a-blue-moon event for me lol #i also took Gregor's ''fake napping'' from myself... specifically my car 'naps' lol #i get very relaxed on car rides and like to take ''rest my eyes'' naps and my friends and relatives always think i'm asleep lol #but i be hearin EVERY WORD of their convos lololol

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softpine · 11 days

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@minamill it's actually still the same day as this post!! i know it feels like it's been 10 years jfkjsds but jada was still in the freezer when she had the vision of asa dying. so we'll pick back up with her reaction soon!! alisa will definitely have.... something to say too 👀 if that's not what you meant please let me know because i think i'm misunderstanding you ;-; but don't worry, i never feel rushed!! i love that you're thinking about it 💖💖

awww cute :3 i've seen so many more garter snakes than usual this year!! i like to walk around this marshy area and there's always 1 or 2 snakes on the wooden dock that runs through it, i have to be careful not to step on them because they're not scared of humans at all!

@forgotten-pixels i'm always thinking about what my characters would do in other universes or how they would play games themselves etc. so thank you for indulging me fjksjds

and yes for sure!! i show some of my characters hobbies when they're relevant, but for the most part they're just set pieces (like jada painting while having a conversation). i like to think that stevie climbs trees ALL the time; she was an adventurous kid who never grew out of the habit. but it's nearly impossible to make poses work with trees and they don't look good up close anyway so it's just a hassle to show :( same with swimming, i try to avoid showing that even though they all live close to the ocean & smaller lakes that they frequent. asa spends soooooo much time just laying down somewhere and thinking, which is nearly impossible to show. and i generally have to neglect caroline/beth/danny/mikaela's interests now that they aren't the main focus of the story anymore and are only really relevant in terms of their kids (sad!!!! but that's life 😔). i do have a little more freedom in that sims is a visual medium and i know how to make my own poses and stuff, but there's only so much work i'm willing to put into such small details lmao

i actually have pinterest boards for all my main characters!! here's some from stevie's, because i just happened to look through that one recently 💖

maine was in the path of totality so i assume most of them would have seen it since they wouldn't have to travel further than their own backyard! and at least where i live, people were handing out eclipse glasses for free. but stevie would definitely be the one who gets the most into it, she'd be infodumping about the eclipse to anyone who will listen :') and jada would be really into it from an artist perspective. she'd be painting the cool shadows for sure!! the others i think would just be into it a normal amount lmao

i actually don't use topaz anymore! if i'm looking for a cleaner/smoother look, i use the camera raw filter that comes with more recent photoshop versions and i just mess around with these settings:

@minamill thank youuuuuuu 🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖

#my bad i saved this to my drafts instead of posting it #asks #anonymous #nonsims #brandi answers #minamill #forgotten-pixels

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choerrypuffs · 9 months

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lana! how are you doing these days?? I miss seeing you on my dash sm😭

hi my love! 💗 i'm sorry for such a late response, and i miss you too!! i've just been so busy with life and school plus the fact that i'm not really keeping up with nct anymore so i haven't really been active on here unfortunately :((

a quick life update: i'm entering my last year of grad school, and i'm set to teach my own class this upcoming semester as a TA! i've been travelling a lot more this summer, and i actually just came back from vacation where i finally, finally got to meet up with cat and moon 🥹 it was a long time coming bc i live so far away but i finally got to check luvpuffcore irl meetup off my bucket list! 🥰 i've also been playing way too much honkai star rail and acquired a gambling addiction thanks to it 😭

i'm still going to finish my fics that i have planned for this blog, but i'm not really sure when i'll be able to post them. i apologize for the delays, but i wanted to log back in to let you guys know i haven't completely disappeared off the face of the planet lmao 😫

p.s. for those that have left asks in in my inbox, i see them! i check my inbox frequently so even if i don't respond to them, just know that your messages always makes me happy and i reread them whenever i need a boost of serotonin 💞

i hope everyone is doing well and i'm sending all my love as always 💖💘💌🌷✨

#ask #anon #answered #lana blabs

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salted-caramel-tea · 4 months

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Are you leaving dtblr?

no i was saying the other day ive just been rlly busy lately between finals and work and christmas prep so i haven’t had much free time but im using this as an excuse to go on another ramble about community dynamics

i’ve already talked about this but i honestly have considered just moving on a few times now bc it’s so .. divisive here at times . Even things as trivial as who ships what has started several full on vaguing sessions across my dash with people screaming that being a multi shipper is homophobic or that dnfers are the main issue with the community neither or which are true and it’s insane that it’s still ongoing like it’s a serious problem with a lot of different people from different shipping communities lacking any kind of maturity in all honesty.

another thing is the karl neg . like nobody is asking anybody to enjoy karl’s content or to watch him but the kind of speculation over his intentions his friendships his creative ventures when he actually hasn’t done anything wrong except annoy people a little just doesn’t sit right with me . its also kinda hypocritical considering how our fanbase likes to preach live and let live and that we have no say in dteams friendships esp in the discourse surrounding q. like again .

theres also a problem with cliques but i feel like a lot of the discourse over cliques ive seen in the past couple months has been targeting friend groups more than cliques like no girl people can have groups of friends in the community lmao but like the platforming of friend groups trying to make them the equivalent of influencers in a fan community just has never seemed like a good idea liek this over glorification of other fans in the community just seems weird to me like ? idk i just wouldn’t try to establish fan community hierarchies they’re never good

it’s just felt a whole lot less fun logging in lately because unless you have a group of friend established in ways where you communicate frequently outside of tumblr then you’re just logging on to see shipping discourse . why i hate x creator . dranti tweets to report . You’re Bad If You Ship This . and two people vaguing each other about something so incredibly unimportant and trivial or competing to be the best poster for their chosen creator amongst all the art and fics and nice posts coming from people who you’ve followed for years or who are popular people to see in the fanbase and it’s just like . not very fun anymore bc ppl started taking it way too seriously .

idk i still watch streams if im awake for them and i still like coming online but i find myself rolling my eyes a lot more recently

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ymiwritesstuff · 2 years

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Dangerous Dance

OK OK HERE’S THE MAJIMA FIC AAAAAAA HE’S SO HOT I’LL DIE! This is just a very random “simp fic” so to speak. Basically, reader is down bad, Majima is down bad. Very suggestive because of course it is. This takes place during Yakuza 0, also, please remember that I have NOT FINISHED THE GAME!! So please don’t spoil anything!! Anyway, I really really hope you guys like this. Please enjoy!!

Yakuza 0

Goro Majima x Reader

Summary: The last few days have been rough, so you decide to unwind by visiting a familiar disco club. What you don’t expect however is meeting a stranger who is so alluring, you are not sure how to react.

Notes: Usage of alcohol, drunk reader, mild swearing, suggestive themes, allusions to smut (not the act itself, y’all let me know if you wanna see that tho 👀), reader down bad, Majima down bad lmao, FIRST TIME WRITING FOR MAJIMA, KEEP THAT IN MIND PLS

Also posted on AO3!

What a day.

You were more than aware that your job wasn’t the most excellent, hell, you could say you had gotten fairly used to the worst parts of customer service. Rude customers had little to no effect on you anymore, kicking drunken assholes out was but a tiny inconvenience, and your poor legs had become numb to the pain of standing in one place for multiple hours.

Recently, however, it had been shit. And you didn’t know why exactly, maybe you were just getting tired of living the same routine over and over. You just needed a break. And a really good one.

The loud booming music at the disco was almost deafening but in the best possible way. It left your head no room to think of anything but the pounding sounds you could not only hear but also feel. Maharaja was not foreign to you, in fact, you felt you were somehow far more familiar with Sotenbori during nighttime. The whole city became an entirely different place, it sprung to live, even. You frequented the disco whenever you felt the need to have a good time, get drunk, or maybe even hook up with somebody. You never knew what would happen, and that’s why you loved it.

With a drink in hand, you moved with the music, occasionally letting out a yell or two when a particularly nice song began to play. You could feel the effects of the alcohol you had consumed, your head felt light, and your vision was slightly shaky, but dear Lord you were having fun. You absorbed the energy of the partying people around you, forgetting all about the reason for your late-night visit, washing it away with a strong lime and gin.

The tunes echoed in your head and lingered there and the screams and yells of others kept you from floating to a world of your own. Still, your attention was scattered, eyes going from one place to another to being fully closed. There was a dance battle or two at some point. Who won those again? You had already forgotten, the memory was lost somewhere and washed away by the alcohol.

You downed your drink, as you danced, catching a glimpse of a young couple from the corner of your vision. They were all over each other, drunk, barely able to keep up with the beat. Despite that, they looked like they were having a good time. A wonderful time. Immediately you felt something stick to you.

Envy.

You stared at your now empty glass and let out something in between a laugh and a scoff. You’d need another drink. And someone to spend your time with.

Being alone was no issue, you sometimes even preferred it. But you would be flat-out lying to yourself if you claimed that some company wasn’t wanted. Parties were always better with others anyway. All kinds of people all over Sotenbori came to Maharaja, surely there had to be someone who was willing to exchange a few words or even dance with you. Though deep down, you perhaps desired more than that. Something... Wild. Your expectations in that regard, however, were quite low. A good dance would do just fine.

The bar counter was mostly empty, which was no strange sight. People much preferred to spend their time on the dance floor and the only time they stepped off was when their mouths desired the bitter taste of alcohol, you being living proof of that. That was precisely what you were doing after all.

With slightly uneven steps you approached the counter, the effects of the previous drinks very much apparent. You were nowhere done, though. Nowhere near drunk enough. You had made it your goal to get as wasted as possible tonight, almost out of spite. The last few days had been so awful. You weren’t religious by any means, but if there was some higher power out there responsible for all the shit you had endured lately, tonight, you’d be giving it the middle finger by allowing yourself to have a good time for once.

Your eyes drifted and noticed someone sitting at the counter. Strange, you weren’t expecting anyone to anchor themself here of all places, the music barely reached this part of the disco. Maybe he was waiting for somebody, you thought.

You eyed the man carefully, taking in his appearance. From your angle, you couldn’t see his face, but he was well-dressed, with black hair tied back in a ponytail. He had a firmness to him, his shoulders appeared tense and something told you that he was perhaps already aware of your presence.

In one hand, he held his drink, while the other rested on the counter. He appeared to be lost in his thoughts, but you could see his finger tapping to the faraway beat against the table.

You looked back at the dance floor and then at the man again. Screw it. You were rather intrigued and seeing that no one else seemed to be as secluded as this stranger, you approached him with something akin to slight nervousness attaching itself to you.

“Out here alone?” You yelled over the music. The stranger turned to you and immediately you felt something in your chest, your eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of him. His face was neutral, tired even as if he hadn’t had enough sleep for days. Yet his lips turned slightly upward as he looked at you. It made your stomach turn. What was perhaps the most shocking part of his fierce appearance was the eyepatch covering his left eye. Your legs trembled the tiniest amount. He was unbelievably handsome.

“Yeah, I am,” he replied in what was possibly the most attractive voice you had ever heard. More than happy with his answer, you sat down beside him, eyes briefly glancing at his slightly exposed chest and the gold necklace adorning it. Some part of you knew he noticed, as you hazily noted the way he let out a suppressed chuckle. In your slightly drunken state, however, you had no shame.

“Want some company?” You asked with a slight smirk, placing your empty glass down. “Parties are no fun alone, are they?” Yet another chuckle left his lips and he quickly looked down before locking his only visible eye with you once more.

“Yer right about that. But makes me wonder,” he took one sip from his drink, your eyes gluing themselves to the way his lips parted as he drank before continuing.

“Whatsa pretty thing like you doin’ here all alone?” He challenged your smirk with one of his own, that deep voice of his resonating deep in your ears and lingering there like smoke. His words made you giggle and you leaned in, slightly shortening the distance between you two.

“Well, I’m not alone anymore, am I?”

There was the tiniest shift in his expression and something about it told you that he may not have expected your response to be so bold. And to be fair, you didn’t either. A few stronger drinks do wonders for one’s courage. He hummed in agreement, silently accepting your company. Score.

“What’s yer name, gorgeous?” You found yourself breaking eye contact at the nickname he used that was so effortlessly carried by his voice. He was no stranger to flirting, that much was clear. And it was working, as the flush on your cheeks was no longer only due to alcohol.

“(Name).” Something poked at your insides, something you could only describe as enthusiasm. You were eager to talk to this man, the more you looked at him, the more it felt like he was reeling you in. The bizarre feeling could only be compared to a high schooler talking to their crush. You didn’t complain though.

“(Name), eh? Fits ya well.” A laugh escaped your lips and if you had been more attentive, you would have noticed him glancing at them. “I’m Majima.”

Something clicked within you as soon as he said that, and your smile got replaced by an expression of realization. Was he..

“Goro Majima..? The manager of Cabaret Grand?” You looked at him with widened eyes, trying to process what you had heard. He raised a surprised eyebrow at you, likely not expecting you to know of him.

“Haw? How’d ya know?” His shock was understandable, and now that he had confirmed your suspicion, you were over the moon. In your excitement, you laughed.

“Anyone who has spent enough time enjoying the nightlife of Sotenbori has heard of Goro Majima,” you began. The hushed whispers of the Grand’s highly efficient manager did not go unnoticed by you and the things you had heard about his feats were truly something to marvel at. You never expected to meet him though and his refined and at the same time intense looks now made slightly more sense to you.

“I’m surprised to find you here, though.” You brought your palm to your face and leaned on it, that smirk you first put on remaining on your lips. “And without company too.” Given his reputation, you assumed men, women and everyone in between would be all over him, sticking to him like moths to a flame, yet you had found him alone at the most deserted spot of Maharaja. A part of you was quite ecstatic about that, not that you would ever allow yourself to admit that.

He laughed, noticing the underlying flattery in your words. It was funny to him but he chose to accept it even if it was only because he did not dare to extinguish the flames he saw in your eyes.

Majima gulped down the last bits of his drink, enjoying the way it flowed down his throat. You could not take your half-lidded eyes off him, the distant music becoming all the more apparent and louder, which made you turn your head towards the dance floor.

“Hey, can I get ya a drink?” Majima asked, pointing to your empty glass on the counter. “Just order whatever ya want. My treat.” You turned to him upon hearing his question and noticed the knowing grin on his face. Your eyes shifted from his eye to his lips and you came to a conclusion. You were at Maharaja, the wildest disco in town, and there was only one thing you were craving and the thriving sounds around you only fueled that desire.

You promptly stood up, to which Majima raised his brow.

“How about we dance first? Or were you planning to just sulk here all night?” You asked teasingly, but there was some seriousness to your question. It was still bizarre to you that he would choose to isolate himself in a place like this.

It didn’t take long for Majima to stand up in front of you, and you felt yourself stumble ever so slightly. His height impressed you, and he looked down at you with a clearly teasing smirk. You were sure he did it on purpose.

“Sure, show me what ya got, darlin’.”

He was so close to you, it was almost suffocating, but in a good way. You caught a whiff of a cologne he was wearing, he smelled as good as he looked. You tilted your head upwards at him and stood up on your toes in an attempt to get your face as close to his as possible. You wanted to let him know exactly what he was making you feel.

“Try to keep up, Majima-san.” Your voice was barely a whisper, and Majima was more than happy with the fact that you didn’t know just how many chills ran down his spine upon hearing your words. You were certainly something.

The brightly lit dance floor was buzzing, filled to the brim with people dying to dance and sing their hearts out. You were no different, you were hungry for a good time, especially with someone like Majima.

Once you reached the floor, you turned to him. His tense posture seemed somewhat more relaxed and there was a sense of underlying anticipation in him, almost like there was something inside of him just waiting to be let out. Most curious.

With a final glance at him, you began to sway with the music, just letting your body move on its own and closing your eyes. You felt the beat in your being and relished it, bringing your arms into the air. The music and lights enveloped you, and all your worries just melted away with every step you took.

Majima followed suit, allowing himself to get lost in the moment. He truly enjoyed dancing, which some might have considered surprising. At the same time though, he could not help but glance at you every now and then. He was fascinated by how fluidly your body moved with the music and how nice of a smile you had the whole time.

He would be lying to himself if he said he did not find you extremely attractive like this.

You caught him staring, and smirked at him right away. His burning gaze was unlike anything you had experienced and somehow you could feel both his eyes hungrily watching you, despite one of them being covered. You adored how it made you feel. And you knew he was more than enjoying the view.

With every roll of your hips and every snap of your head to the beat, Majima found himself more and more entranced and his own movements became wilder. He matched your energy perfectly, dancing his heart out, letting a laugh or two slip his lips occasionally. You noted how effortlessly he moved with the music and how much he seemed to be enjoying himself. He was a good dancer to be sure, he definitely had a talent for it. The bright lights adorned his already stunning face and brought out his features perfectly.

Running a hand through your hair sloppily you stepped closer to him, with a potentially dangerous idea suddenly taking over your head. If you were sober, you would have never allowed yourself to even think of something like this, but now it seemed like the perfect idea, partially because you were already so addicted to the way this stranger looked at you.

With your face mere inches away from his, you eyed his parted lips. You could smell the remains of the drink he had consumed just moments ago, but there was something else in there too and it didn’t take you long to figure out what. Cigarettes.

It filled you with something, a desire that you weren’t sure you had felt towards anyone else. Once you locked eyes with him, you were almost caught off guard at the intensity of his stare. It was fierce, starving, and almost unhinged.

You smirked and prowled closer to his lips, hands ghosting over his arms while swinging your body with the harmonious sounds that had filled your mind. You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but the way your heart raced was exciting, and you became even more excited when Majima matched your movements, bringing his head lower and closer to yours.

That was the response you were looking for, and it served as a sign that he was willing to play along. Perfect. Your smirk and gaze became mischievous and you quickly turned around, with your back facing him. You somehow heard the slight groan that rumbled in his throat even from under all the commotion.

In this new position, you made an effort to get him as worked up as possible. The song playing was perfect, the melody was sensual and enticing, yet the beat was still on-brand for disco. You swayed your hips, flipped your hair, and even ran a hand along your waist and chest all so you could wordlessly tell Majima what he was about to get. And it was working.

Majima could not keep his eye off you. He followed your movements and got completely lost in the sight of you. His breath hitched every time you looked back at him, those half-lidded, glossy eyes sending sparks throughout his being. His own dancing lost some of its passion as he was too occupied with feasting on you with his gaze. It traveled up and down, taking all of you in and letting his filthy imagination run wild.

You leaned against him, clearly catching him off guard. With your backside pressed against him, you continued your dancing, feigning innocence by looking at him with an expression so cruelly seductive that Majima wasn’t sure how long he could hold back. From the corner of your vision, you noticed his hand move toward your waist, an action you long predicted and expected.

However, before he could make contact with your body, you grabbed his wrist, denying his silent request. For a brief second, Majima feared he had crossed the line by attempting to touch you, but once he heard that cursed laugh of yours, he understood the situation. No touching. Not yet.

Still, he would not stand for being the only one getting messed with. That was not fair, was it? Carefully, with your back still turned to him, he lowered his head to your ear, barely touching it with his lips, his hot breath sending multiple sets of shivers down your spine. He saw you visibly let out a shaky breath as your dancing slowed down at his actions. He chuckled.

“Ya teasin’ me, darlin’?” His voice made you weak. It was low, husky, and just barely audible through all the music, but you heard it loud and clear, and it set you aflame. The grip you had on his wrist loosened, though you knew even with your tightest hold, he would be able to break free and turn the tables on you. The image alone almost pushed you over the edge.

Letting go of his hand, you finally turned around, your dancing reduced to just light swaying. The alcohol played its part in it too, you assumed. You looked at Majima dead in the eye, expression filled with lust.

“And what if I am?” You challenged his statement, which he found most amusing. Your hands found their way to his broad shoulders, dancing along the area right next to his neck. Despite the lack of fairness, Majima kept his hands to himself, which you exploited by having yours all over him.

The music had become mute in your head, the only thing raging in there were the sinful thoughts you had let loose by getting so close to this man. You were sure it was the same for him, his hot and bothered face told you all you needed to know.

“We’ll see how far that’ll get ya.” You jumped and let out a slight noise when you felt his hands on your hips, the tightness of his grip surprising you. He brought his face close, so close you felt like you were about to faint. “My patience’s runnin’ thin.”

Truthfully, so was yours.

You slid your hand down his toned torso, feeling his abs through his thin shirt, stopping at his belt, the feeling spreading the fire all across your being. With your lips on his hot cheek and your hand on the other side of his perfectly sculpted face you spoke in a low voice:

“Then, should we go get those drinks somewhere else?”

Majima tightened his hold on your hips, chuckling once more, but this time, there was something in it you hadn’t noticed before. It could have only been described as wickedness.

“Eager, ain’tcha?”

You looked up at him with a sly smile, which was all the encouragement Majima needed to start retreating from the dance floor. Filled with excitement, you followed, more than eager to spend the night with him.

“C’mon, let’s go. Ya still haven’t shown me all ya can do, have ya?”

You giggled. He was right.

What a night this would be.

Support me on ko-fi!❤️

#yakuza #yakuza 0 #yakuza imagines #yakuza x reader #goro majima #yakuza goro majima #majima x reader #goro majima x reader #yakuza goro majima x reader #goro majima imagines #reader insert #ryu ga gotoku 0 #ryu ga gotoku x reader

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leverage-ot3 · 1 year

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I need to know the story behind you breaking into an abandoned asylum! That sounds interesting as hell!

okay so I’m prefacing by saying if you actually looked it up you could probably tell the area in which I grew up, but I don’t live there anymore so I don’t really care and I don’t feel like any of you would, like, look for my identity so it’s fine

so one summer day I was going to hang out with my friend and we wanted to do something fun. I’m like hey K, do you want to go to holy land? I know you’ve never been there before and it’s a cool place to look around (having been there once myself before

for those of you not native to connecticut, holy land usa is an abandoned christian theme park (no, I am not making this up). I won’t go into the whole history because that’s not the purpose of this post but you can read it here. there has been a murder or two there but it has in recent years been bought by a church and is now semi-maintained again (as in, it doesn’t count as trespassing anymore and they sometimes hold religious services by the 56 ft illuminated cross)

ANYWAYS so I drove us 30 minutes from where we lived to waterbury and just as we were about to pull in SOMEONE FUCKING CLOSED THE ROAD so nope, we couldn’t go :(

so we’re in the car driving back home, still wanting something semi-spooky so I’m like, hey, I’ve never seen fairfield hills (abandoned asylum) up close, why don’t we stop by and take a look???

so we drive there and park. now, it’s not especially spooky NOW because part of the huge complex has been, like, converted into community buildings (like a community center, rec center/gym, a fire house I think) because after an internationally known tragedy happened the community got a shit ton of money and they invested a lot of that into community resources

so we park near one of the still abandoned buildings and get out to walk around. mind you, it’s still 100% STILL FUCKING DAYLIGHT out.

we round the corner backed by woods and what do you know- there’s a hole in the fence and an open second story window. my friend and I look at each other like 👀👀👀 and decide, fuck it, let’s try it. yolo and all that

she boosts me up as far as she could and I used the outside little ledge (I wish I had a picture because this is a flex) and pull myself through the window. I then pull her up from the ground and get her in too.

we look around. we are somewhere in what used to look like some sort of wooden cubicles which were no longer really there. her phone is dead, we only have my phone flashlight, but it’s still sunny out and barely any of the windows are boarded up so it’s fine

we walk around, obviously people are in here frequently because there is graffiti EVERYWHERE, some wrappers, a few c*ndoms for some reason, I think maybe a needle or two (yikes). so like, it’s frequented but we didn’t think anyone was there with us

it wasn’t even really that spooky during the day (I would probably never go at night because 1. more of a chance other people would be there and I’m not going to risk possibly having a negative interaction yk, 2. I feel like more police would be patrolling it then, and 3. I’m not all that superstitious but I would never go there at night as a group of two)

we found what we assumed was an old rec room with a still mostly functional pool table (and an old dress in the window???), some bathrooms, an elevator stuck between floors, and some cool graffiti

we were in one of the stairwells with cool large windows when we saw a police car further away in the parking lot and went NOPE and continued down into the basement. aside from the little windows towards the ceiling it was PITCH BLACK and my tiny phone light did fucking NOTHING lmao.

we were able to get into the attic and I REALLY wanted to find out how to get into the bell tower but one of the doors was locked I think and we couldn’t find another way :(

all in all, I wish it was spookier but it couldn’t really get that spooky in the daylight, but I like that I can say that I did it because it’s a fun story. I would honestly love to go again now that I have lock pics and investigate some more but I don’t live there anymore

here are some pics and a video:

#abandoned asylum story #jackie talks #about me #yes the internationally known tragedy was sandy hook but I felt weird about putting it directly in the post #because I would have felt like that took away from the Vibe #lmao don’t ask me my opinion about guns unless you want a LONG ASS rant that shit happened the day after my thirteenth birthday it was awful #look up the history of holy land it’s wild lmao #also I didn’t include the picture but I realized in the car ride back home I had a small scratch that must have been from crawling out of #the window. the window was hella rusty and it could have been glass or something and the cut was tiny but like. paranoia #so long story short that’s how I remember when I most recently got my tetnus booster LMAO #I hinted to my dad that I might have done that and he was SOOOOO MAD LMAOOOOO #I brought part of a fabric picture I found back home but then remembered it might have #abestos so I threw it out lol #I want to go to a spookier one tbh #not leverage #asks #answered asks #nick nelson my beloved #mine

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scatterpatter · 2 months

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This is a free invitation to infodump about Colorless! Go ham, bestie! I'd love to hear about him!! Pop off, king! /gen /pos

MY FRIEND I AM PICKING YOU UP AND SPINNING YOU AROUND /P

OKAY OKAY SO COLORLESS- mannnn man man i miss him i miss him!!! He's an oc "edgesona" I made back in 2017 and I just missed him! I ramble SO MUCH UNDER THE CUT

Also warning I have OLD ART HERE kjbdfkjbskjfbsjk HELP

Okay so Colorless started as just a spontaneous idea of "Oooo what if Scatter but Evil" waaay back in 2017- think Darkiplier energy

Imma be honest, there's sadly a lot around 2017-2018 that I don't remember, including stuff with Colorless (it's almost like I have the Forget Things Disorder), so going through his older posts is crazy because I don't rember making a lot of this stuff but he was just Evil!Scatter LMAO

Then I convinced Shrike, an ex-friend, and some other mutuals at the time to make their own edgesonas! I frequently did stuff with Shrike's sona Gregory "The Game", or just Gregory Game. Older posts you may also see an "Apathy.txt." but since I'm not in contact with Apathy's owner anymore, I no longer include him in any Colorless content

It was basically just "What if these edgelords lived together and did mayhem"

But then I came up with COLORLESS LORE so here's the rundown of the lore (or at least what I rember... bad memory is bad ;-; )

So it was revealed that C wasn't just some evil alter-ego of Scatter, but rather they were two parts of a fractured whole

Scatter, Colorless, and one other we'll talk about shortly all came from one original person. This person decided to run an experiment to see if he could split himself into different states according to Freudian ego states: Id, Ego, and Superego. The procedure was a success and split the person into Mikhail(Id), Scatter(Ego), and Nathaniel(Superego)

Nat is scratched out. Rip. Scatter was always represented by purple, Mikhail by red, Nat by blue.

Long story short, they decided that they had their time together and needed to fuse back into one person. Mik had his reservations, but Nat and Scatts pushed it. Things went wrong, and they never integrated properly, and even corrupted themselves from it, destabilizing them. I was GOING to give strong hints to this in a comic I was sketching in 2018, but I never finished/posted it. HOWEVER i DO still have the sketchbook so it looked a bit like this! (OOO never before-seen loooore~~~)

It's something C would regularly flashback to and would cause immense distress and generally disrupt his daily functioning

Afterwards all 3 egos shared a body again, but "switched" consciousness frequently, often abruptly and to the detriment of whomever was "fronting" before. Colorless would switch in and take over the body usually to cause harm to Scatter and Nat, or to anons who interacted with him

C would act out in retaliation to get back at both Scatter and Nat, moreso Nat, and during his time corrupted and sharing the body, he took on the name "The Colorless", refusing to go by his real name of Mikhail.

After a few mishaps, he found a way to separate himself from Scatter and Nat! ... It left him a bit... corrupted, still, in the process

It not only left his entire body... not right (see: humans aren't colorless and outlined in red with black tar-like stuff), and also messed up Scatter's and Nat's bodies too

I was GOING to do a whole thing on tumbles where I would've gone into his backstory in depth buuuut that fell through. Oop.

I... admittedly forget a lot of what I was going to do past this. Memory is REAL bad around this time for personal reasons I won't delve into, but C started getting more of a "stabilized" look, though was still able to be VERY evil

WAIT I JUST UNLOCKED A MEMORY TYPING THIS- IIRC, he installed a "chip" in the side of his neck to help stabilize his body- no more corrupted eyes/frame in all-red anymore- and left a scar there he covered with a scarf. Sadly all this part of the lore happened in a server that got nuked BUT I found another never-posted-to-tumblr art in the sketchbook!

These are probably late 2018? VERY early 2019 at the latest?

Thanks to personal life things, C took a back seat for some time, but around 2019-2020 I gave him a semi-revival, and Shrike and I really had fun revisiting C and Greg's whole dynamic together!

Oh also there's another one of the "trio" whose name is Scoot Scoot. I am not joking. They call him Scoot or Scooter for short. He isn't one of the system's ego states- instead, he's a literal demon that looks like the other three. The lore for this was that the person who summoned the demon needed the hair of a human- and stole some from C because the summoner didn't want to use their own in case it went awry. Scoot was summoned and took a similar appearance to C and just... just... is chaos incarnate

SO around 2020ish, I took a pretty hard reboot on C and the egos- it's basically all the same lore, just with a fresh coat of paint... oh also we ship C and Game now. Their ship name is Colorgames.

During this time C decided to go a lot more tame, he didn't want to be a killer anymore, he wanted to be an edgy scientist. He also began patching things up with his brothers so now they're having a decent relationship! ... C also has a portal device attached to his wrist now soooooo... oops

I don't really know what I wanna do with him in the year of our lord and savior 2024, but it's just SO FUN to draw him again!!! Maybe I'll actually make a proper comic about his backstory, who knows!!! I just think he's neat

TL;DR: Colorless (Or "C", real name Mikhail) is one of three parts who consider themselves brothers. He is the Id, Scatter is the Ego, Nat is the Superego. A past event split them apart and they corrupted their bodies trying to put themselves back together. C grew resentful of the others and worked to sabotage them and lash out at them, but now has mellowed and is more of a chaotic scientist than a true villain. He dates @shrike-nest's OC Gregory Game, and they get into mayhem together. They adopted a demon along the way. His name is Scoot Scoot. Don't worry about it.

BONUS: SOME OTHER DOODLES I'VE FOUND IN MY SKETCHBOOK AND DISCORD HISTORY THAT I DONT BELIEVE EVER MADE IT TO TUMBLR:

... id post more that i found but i hit the tumblr image limit OOPS

#long post #ocs #my ocs #the colorless #mikhail #gregory game #edgesquad 2.0 #THANK U I NEEDED AN EXCUSE TO PUT THIS ALL IN ONE PLACE #man thank frick i kept the sketchbook and tagged well otherwise i wouldnt be able to recall half of this stuff #whyyyy is memory baaad (he knows why hes just complaining)#also can you see the blatant 'im portraying systemhood but am in extreme denial that im a system' imagery going on #c and nat were literally loosely based on ALTERS I HAD AND WAS AWARE OF AT THE TIME #also absolutely INSANE comparing the old art to that 2024 piece DANG

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allfillernothriller · 2 days

Text

Welcome to Unhinged Hours, a series of posts that will be tagged as such in which I will overshare my cringiest and most awkward thoughts because I've no self-control over my need to vent. And who knows. Might help someone else.

Don't mind the dubious syntax and weird grammar.

[cw brief mention of abuse]

When I was 17-19, I was mortified to discover I was attracted to (much) older people. During my early twenties, the majority of my crushes were in their thirties. I knew the age gap was too big and I was too young, so I did nothing about them and naively thought this was something that would fix itself with time. I thought "at least I know I find people in their thirties attractive so I just have to wait to reach mine and date people my age then" (lmao good one past me). Well. As I'm inching ever closer to said thirties, it's more and more evident that the issue clearly did NOT fix itself, those old crushes are nearing their forties and I haven't stopped carrying them in my heart. They're attractive in new ways. When I look at pics from back when I first developed a crush, I find that my current 27yo self isn't physically attracted to their 32yo self I was originally attracted to anymore. And I know for a fact that 21yo me wouldn't have found 38yo [redacted] hot. But current me is still attracted to current them (38yo [redacted] is indeed very hot). And you might wonder what's the issue here, so lemme tell you. I've been frequenting online feminist spaces for a decade. I've read countless accounts of teenage girls and young women who were manipulated and abused by older partners. I've read an inordinate amount of warnings, the gist of all of them being “don't date older folks during your formative years, don't believe them when they call you 'mature for your age'”. And let me be crystal clear — I still think it's relevant and infinitely important to relay those accounts and protect girls and young women, and help them spot red flags and predatory patterns. It absolutely is, I am not blaming feminism for my existential struggles. I am simply giving you context. The thing is, I've internalised this as “don't ever pursue older folks, period” (which is a completely different thing, I knew that then and still know it now but couldn't help it) and as a result I've been lugging around self-inflicted guilt and shame for years (and don't I love the internalised biphobia that adds to it when the person happens to be a man /s). And these crushes I've been telling you about? They're one-sided! They've never expressed any interest, so that's always been a safe situation for me, but did that prevent any self-loathing from taking root in my brain? Course it didn't! I can't seem to shake the feeling that there's something wrong with me and I've grown tired of this. Scolding myself over human emotions is getting fucking old.

That brings me to today's crisis — at which point in one's life does it get easier to accept? How old is old enough to stop caring about the age gap? When will I stop blaming myself? How do I drop the guilt?

Because if it was "just" the fact that I'm still swooning over the same people (who are now soon-to-be 40), that would be too easy, wouldn't it? But nooo I just had to go and get a new crush on someone who's already in their forties. Where does this end, please?

(You might've noticed that the overuse of the word 'crush' and choosing to focus on the physical aspect of attraction here is a poor attempt at a euphemism. I mean some of them are simple crushes, as for the others... past a certain point, still calling them crushes is just denial on my part. I'm basically fooling myself.)

“This is a crisis. A large crisis. In fact, if you've got a moment, it's a twelve-storey crisis with a magnificent entrance hall, carpeting throughout, 24-hour porterage and an enormous sign on the roof saying 'this is a Large Crisis'.” (Blackadder Goes Forth, ep. 6)

#questions I'm gonna regret asking #I still get crushes on ppl my age! it's just if there was a pie chart representing my crushes the biggest slice would be older peeps #and that's been concerning me for so many years #and it's getting more and more unclear how founded and relevant that concern is as I grow older myself #very confusing to note that my overall taste in ppl has changed overtime and yet #and yet I'm crushing on the same ppl I was crushing on in my early twenties #oh you must have so many questions... well let's just say I wasn't trying to be funny when I said I had romantic orientationS #emphasis on the plural #trying not to think too closely about the...#forbidden 44yo crush #unhinged hours #this is a large crisis #being engaged and still experiencing the joys of pining. poly thing ig?#oh no look who's rambling in the tags again #I promise I will find a way to elaborate on those romantic orientationS + crushes + my engagement that won't make me sound like a madman

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