#{domino's brain rot}

[threadmonster]

Please Consider: how godawful miserable Dazai would be if Chuuya forgot about him. How painful that would be.

In Beast you have this AU Dazai who knows everything and is willing to be the worst and be forgotten so that there's a version of Odasaku that gets to live and write his novel.

That's Oda though (and in the AU too).

Chuuya? That's an entirely different relationship. They're partners. They trust each other. They're equals. Chuuya even still has a list of the women Dazai had wronged in the past.

I headcanon that Dazai would hate being forgotten in general but he doesn't rule out being forgotten by the people around him. He couldn't just rule that out and that's fine. He probably couldn't rule out the possibility of Chuuya forgetting him either, but I think canon is showing that he is confident that Chuuya wouldn't.

I don't think he would ever make a choice that lead to that. He'd make all the calculations to have both. It would be easier if one or both of them died.

A world without Chuuya at all is better than if Chuuya looked him dead in the eye and didn't recognize him at all.

#bungo stray dogs #soukoku #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #{domino's brain rot} #i have been sitting on this for awhile #but i probably am still too incoherent about it #i'm tired and and bored and i will maybe make this into some kind of fic later #i'm not sure yet #when i'm tired i tend to make myself emotional on purpose #i'm upset that i can't reread Beast because it is still too fresh in my head

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 2

Pt. 1 Ao3

I couldn't let the brain rot die

-----

Breath Danny, this is all fine. This was however not fine. Danny stared, mouth agape, food untouched, as The RED godamned HOOD sat across from him tearing into a burger and fries. The man had taken off his helmet and almost sent Danny into a panic before seeing he had another mask underneath. Which, honestly, shouldn’t be surprising, from what Tucker’s told him these bats are hella secretive and have an insane amount of contingencies. He thought back to the time when Tucker had tried installing similar plans in case of emergency, which mostly fell through after like two attacks. Only a few plans survived and receive semi-regular upkeep.

“Dude you gonna eat that or what?” Danny was pulled from their thoughts by the vigilante sitting across from them. Right, that. As a response they lifted a couple fries to his mouth and Ancients these are good. Hood let out a chuckle at whatever face Danny had pulled, before his voice turned a bit more serious.

“So how’d you come across the Joker? Much less put a crater in his gut?” Ah, so this was an interrogation, Danny can do an interrogation. He swallowed a few more fries before responding.

“Um, well, I was just walking back to my dorm, and the guy jumped out of an alley and grabbed me. He started talking about the Waynes and… some other stuff. So I panicked and then he was dead.” Danny trailed off, stuffing the burger in his mouth to avoid talking more. And if it weren’t for his nerves this burger would have tasted amazing, but at this moment it was just a burger.

Hood nodded, “And the smoking crater? Are you a meta or something?” And there was the question Danny constantly thinks about because yes, technically he would be considered a meta, after all his dad and his sister both have the gene so it would be so easy to explain away his powers like that. But it felt so much like a lie. Like he was denying the fact of his true nature. But Danny also really didn’t feel like explaining the complexities of ghosts at whatever Ancients forsaken time it is, to the Red Hood, over a burger and shakes. So he nodded, gesturing flippantly with his hand in a vague either or motion.

Hood looked weary but took the answer nonetheless. “I took care of the body and called some friends. Do you mind if I tell them who did it or would you like to keep it under wraps?” He said, leaning back in the booth.

“Umm,” Danny ducked his head and dropped his hand to his lap, “I’d rather not have my name or face publicized, if that's alright.” Hood Hmm’d in agreement before tilting his head to one side, A smile smile tug at the corner of his lips which, if Danny wasn’t under an intense amount of stress right now, would actually be kind of cute.

“Speaking of,” Hood said, his tone shifting to something Danny couldn’t detect, “I don’t believe I got your name.” and that’s a lie, Danny had told him in the alley way. But then, Hood had been in a bit of shock so maybe he forgot?

“It’s Danny,” Danny said again, a bit more sure this time, “Danny Fenton.” He paused for a moment before tacking on “ He/ they” and holding out his hand for Hood to shake.

That smile on the vigilantes face grew more as he took Danny’s hand, “Hood, he/him. Pleasure to make your acquaintance” was that a wink? It was hard to tell with the domino mask, but did RED HOOD just fucking wink at them.

“So how old are you Danny? You said you were heading back to your dorm, are you a student?”

It took a few moments for their brain to catch up before Danny replied, “Yeah, I just turned 20, I’m starting my first semester at Gotham U in a couple days. I’ve uhh,” Danny ducked his head again, reaching to rub at the back of his neck, “I’ve only actually been in Gotham for like three days.” he muttered sheepishly. Looking back up at Hood through his bangs.

“You’ve only been in Gotham for for three days,” hood whispered to himself, his brows drawing together in confusion, “And you killed the Fucking Joker???” He half shouted, incredulously.

Danny’s Head shot around scanning the dingy burger joint, no one seemed to have noticed. Hood looked apologetic, then a war of emotions fluttered across his face before that smile, that Danny had now decided is definitely cute (Cause that’s not a lot to unpack), crept its way back onto the man’s face.

“So what do you study?” Hood asked, resting his chin on his hand and tilting his head just slightly.

Danny fought the blush threatening to creep up their face because no, no this serial killer crime boss is not cute you absolute idiot. And instead they launched into an explanation of how theyŕe majoring in Aerospace engineering and Astronomy, because this is his obsession and he could talk about his obsession all day if he could.

----------

Jason stared at the man before him, excitedly explaining a bunch of star stuff that, to be honest, he didn’t really understand. But this man was so goddamn cute. Danny apparently is the kind of person that talks with their hands when they get excited, because the wild gestures they were making only managed to captivate Jason more.

The two talked for almost another hour before Jason had to drop them off at their dorm because, “You almost got murdered once tonight and you got lucky, I’m going to escort you home whether you like it or not.” before returning to his patrol route.

He made a mental note while he was beating up a potential mugger, to look into this Danny Fenton, to maybe meet in civvies, because there is no way Jason is going to lose this guy.

Pt. 3

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc #red hood #jason todd #danny fenton #dead on main #bucket writes things #danny is so confused #jason is practically in love #is danny technically a meta? probably? but uhh we dont mess with that

[erosuguru]

Trying my hand at angst, I don't like this but here you go fjsjfdj

Gojo misses reader and is a mitski fan here, sfw, 1.6k words

Satoru knew he was clingy, he knows he can be overbearing with you at times and you've constantly reassured him that it's one of the many qualities you like about him; you even called it cute and compared him to a lost kitten. However, the longer you're gone, the more stressed he gets, thoughts of worry plague his head if they go unanswered for too long—how you are doing? Is everything going smoothly? Did you eat a full proper meal? Are you sleeping well? He never had to worry for long because he would get an answer the next time he sees you, which would usually be the next few hours or the next day.

When you told him about a trip you had to take out of town to visit family and stay with them for a while, he only smiled and helped you pack as anxiety rattled in his chest— as if trying to bring your attention to it. he chooses to remain silent about his worries even after you tell him you'll be gone for over a week, even if every bone in his body is telling him to trap you in his arms and beg you to stay.

Clingliness be damned, he loved you too much to remain separated from you for over a week, let alone a day.

Dread crept at the back of his mind as you explained your trip, why you were going and when will you leave and return, the entire time Satoru tried to listen his mind would wander and begin to memorise your features as you spoke— the shape of your lips, the crinkle in your eyelids, the structure of your nose, god, did he tell you look beautiful? He couldn't recall if he did today.

".. so don't expect fast replies, okay?"

The dumbfounded expression quickly took over Satoru's features as he sat up, he remembered he mentioned he would call or text you if he gets lonely but after that his brain tuned out his surroundings as if preparing itself for a week of loneliness.

".. repeat that for me, Baby? Please?"

"I said the service is pretty bad at my grandparent's place, so don't expect fast replies."

Ah. He was in hell. He had to watch and help you pack, pretend as if this didn't bother him so you wouldn't cancel for his sake, he even saw you off and kept his goodbye short; a simple kiss, hug and a promise for you to stay safe and call him if anything happens. He would have been proud of himself had he not known how lonely the house would be without you.

For the first three days, the phrase "its just under two weeks" became a mantra Satoru would mutter to himself— from the moment he opens his eyes in the morning feeling the empty space next to him, the phrase is echoed in his head. He made the mistake of preparing two cups of coffee in the beginning forgetting you were off with family, that simple mistake triggers a domino effect; it causes him to remember to contact you, he checks his phone and finds messages sent from you in the wrong order, courtesy of terrible service.

Leaving the house did nothing to alleviate the anxieties floating in his mind about you, whenever he passes by a cafe he has to purchase your favorite item off the menu, this time he had to stop himself and double back from the door remembering the meal would rot away in the fridge before your return. Spotting anything remotely related to your interests activates a knee-jerk reaction where he turns to gesture and mention it to you, looking for the spark that would light up your features in excitement— but alas, you were not here.

The days were longer, the nights were colder, Satoru's love blooms whenever he's near you, and yet now that he's alone, his heart is heavy; an overgrown garden.

The week was over. It was finally over, and yet the torture continued. You specifically told him you'd be gone for over a week— he once again repeats to himself "just under two weeks.." Satoru feels tired, and he doesn't know why. Through his meals and activities throughout the days, he would usually share them with you. He wonders if you felt the same exhaustion.

Just as his eyelids began to weigh down from the exhaustion, his phone released melodious chimes. Satoru grunted in annoyance and sat up in the cold bed, tempted to crush the phone in his hand— was he not even allowed to dream of you?

'LOML💘 Calling...'

His heart soared to his throat, everything he wanted to say to you, threatening to spill out before he even tapped the green button. He hurriedly answered and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hello? Satoru?"

"... Baby? Can you hear me?" He immediately wanted to make sure of the call's quality. He won't be swindled by fate.

"Oh, thank god- I've been trying to get a hold of you all week! How are you? Is everything okay? I'm so sorry I couldn't contact you." He could hear chatter in the back. "I'm with my cousin. We drove out to this convenience store, and the service is pretty good!— I mean, yeah, it's a little far, but..." You took a breath, speaking too quickly for your lungs to handle."I'm so happy I get to hear your voice, Satoru..!"

everything he wanted to say, you were saying it for him, Satoru knows he's clingy but when you return his clingliness it makes him believe that he was made for you— that he was truly loved by you.

Suddenly, the stress he felt from worrying about you, the overbearing silence of loneliness, your affections pouring to him through the phone, all of these factors shattered him; a sob choked him.

".. yeah - me too..!" Satoru hiccuped as he tried to wipe away forming tears. He can't be upset now. He has to be tough for you.

You didn't miss the sniffle that followed, setting your soda down in the cup holder of the car. You sat up briefly. "Honey? What's wrong?" Your cousin silently signalled they'll return into the store, not wanting to overhear a lover's quarrel. "Did something happen?"

Satoru shook his head, forgetting you couldn't see him. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "No - no, I'm fine.. I'm just really happy to hear from you."

Silence filled the call, a moment ago he was preparing himself to yell at you, cry to you, beg you to come home— now he didn't know what to do with himself as he had everything he wanted listening to him on the other end.

"... Hon? I'm really sorry." He hated how you knew just what to say when he began to crack. "I love you, I promise I'll be home soon, okay?"

You love him. You love him. He felt guily; he finally had a chance to speak with you, and he cried and made you feel like the bad guy, made you apologize for wanting to spend quality time with family, does he even deserve you at this point?

"... okay." Is all he can muster, Satoru always sounds so full of life— but now he just sounds defeated, as if faced with a foe that he couldn't damage or evade whatsoever. It broke your heart.

Satoru traced shapes into the covers that he practically kicked off him when he saw your nickname flash on his phone screen, he began. "Baby?"

"Hm? Yeah?"

".. when you get home, I'm gonna be more selfish with you." His tone was serious. He couldn't help but smile when he heard you laugh. "You're already selfish with me!"

"Hey, I've been very emotionally vulnerable recently, okay?" Satoru felt like the usual dynamic of your conversations is slowly seeping back. It felt right, like finding something he thought he misplaced.

"I'm not complaining, hon. I actually love it." He heard you shuffle a bit. "I think you deserve to be a little selfish. You've been so good for me lately, haven't you?"

Of course, he should've expected this from you; you're his smart girl. Of course you would notice how strained he seemed before you went on your trip.

"I thought I hid it pretty well.."

"Satoru."

".. what?" He grew wary of your unimpressed tone. He didn't slip up, did he?

"You were listening to Mitski all week." Ah, your shared music subscription gave him away.

"She perfectly puts my emotions into words, okay? So sue me!"

"I know, hon! But you were listening to First Love / Late Spring. What was I supposed to think?"

The conversation continues, from Lyricism to current routines to favourite cafe desserts. For the first time in a week, Satoru felt safe and comfortable enough to sleep.

Your conversation lulled him to a sleepy state, he could hear you shuffle and move about, he could hear the car start, your family commenting on your dynamic with him, even if the sound was minimised as the phone speaker was only moderately audible, as long as he could hear your voice then he was happy.

"So, either Wednesday or Tuesday..?" Satoru asked groggily after you explained your situation.

"Yeah - I'm hoping Tuesday, but we don't know yet, I'll drive back to the convenience store and tell you once I know." It sounded like a joke, but he knows you would do it.

"Baby- no, I can wait, I swear—"

"Can you, though?" He could hear the smile in your voice, Satoru let out a breathless laugh.

"... nah, I don't think I can."

#eewwww........... vomits #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojou satoru x you

[cordeliawhohung]

hello, how are you today? :D last time i checked i saw your requests were open so i wanted to ask if you could write a reader and cowboy!gaz piece?

i was watching western shows with my granny the other day (it's her pastime and honestly some of them are pretty interesting) and there was this part in an episode where a woman and her cowboy husband were doing the laundry together until someone came over to their house which was by the town and started to bother them and it escalated until the husband ended up fighting that person in the middle of the street... anyway, all the laundry that was up on the drying line was ripped and thrown to the ground in the tussle and the couple just look at each other after the whole ordeal and are just like...welp. more laundry again

but yeah that's sort of what happened, if it's possible, could you incorporate that plot with gaz and reader? it'd mean a lot to me and i think it'd be a little hectic but sometimes people find peace in all that chaos.

thank you!

oh my sweet sweet anon this idea rotted my brain and i wrote this in a day (: pardon any mistakes i wrote this half awake and sorry my brain was in the damn GUTTER the whole time but i hope you enjoy!!! thank you so much for this request it was so much fun and made me think about things i.... never have a;lskdjf

masterlist

You and your husband live a quiet life on the outskirts of town, that is until a misunderstanding ruins your calm day of doing laundry. At least your husband is there to help pick up the slack.

warnings: fluff! not much else!! core went overboard again! slight suggestive language. 2.6k words long.

Summers on the outskirts of the Rocky Mountains were always dry and warm. Blistering rays of sun soaked the fragrant sagebrush around you and you intermittently wiped sweat from your brow as you hung freshly washed laundry on the line to dry. The nice thing about the sweltering weather was that the unblocked sun and gentle breeze would make quick work of it. 

Once you were half way through your pile, the familiar sound of a horse clomping their feet on the dirt road past your home caught your attention. After you finished pinning up one of your blouses, you paused and turned your gaze towards the road. Your husband, Kyle, meandered along on his horse not too far off in the distance. Grinning, you wiped your damp hands off on your apron before skipping off towards him. You had sent him off not too long ago to head into town to purchase a few things for dinner that night; one of the nice things about living so close to town was that errands never took him too long. 

“You started the laundry without me!” he called out. 

His horse, who he had named Cisco but you called Spot due to its domino-like pattern, snorted as they approached the gate you found yourself leaning against. Kyle hopped off in one smooth and rehearsed motion before he worked on parking his horse on the post. You innocently tilted your head at him as you watched his fingers diligently tie the reins around the wood. You watched the tendons in his hands flex as he worked, and you found your own hands busying themselves by toying with the strings of your apron. 

“Figured I’d get a head start,” you explained.

“Head start?” he asked as he sauntered towards the gate. “Looks like you got half the load done already.” 

You loved listening to him talk, and could never get enough of his voice. Not only the dark timbre of it, or the way he always crooned at you, but his accent. His family had immigrated from England when he was a young boy, and despite the time he spent in the American West, he still held onto bits of his accent. When you had first heard him speak, you thought it was silly the way he pronounced certain words, but you found it awfully cute hearing American terms from him. 

“Sounds like you’ll have to make it up to me later,” you teased as he entered through the gate and closed it behind him. 

He held out a small leather pouch and gently shook it in his hands as he approached you with a boyish grin. “Oh, was getting ingredients for supper not enough?” he teased. 

You tilted your head again as you snatched the pouch out of his hands. You hummed as if considering his words. “I’ll have to think on it.” 

Without another word, you turned around and began to make your way back towards the clothes line as you threw a teasing glance over your shoulder. Kyle stood there with his thumbs shoved in his pockets and a cheeky smile on his lips, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes roamed down your legs, hypnotized by the sway of your hips. 

You placed the pouch in the pocket of your apron as you approached the line again, and you felt the light weight of it swing around as you bent down to grab more clothes. Not far behind you, Kyle assisted in finishing the laundry, and the two of you worked quietly in finishing the mundane chore. 

As you worked, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Kyle. Alright, more than a glance or two, but you couldn’t be blamed. Not when he was as fine of a specimen as he was. A proper cowboy, he sported a thick pair of jeans that hugged his thighs and a long sleeved maroon shirt. His attire was a bit more relaxed as he wasn’t working with the animals, yet he still wore his black cowboy hat to keep the shining sun off his face. Even through the fabric of his shirt you could see the way his muscles flexed as he shook out one of your dresses before reaching up to pin it on the line. The way his waist tapered at his hips should have been illegal.

When a quarter of the pile was left, the furious huffing sounds of a horse could be heard galloping down the road at full speed. At first you didn’t pay it much mind, as plenty of people used the road outside your house to get to other ranches, but when the horse started to slow, you knew you had a visitor. 

Mr. Davis was a kind enough man, albeit a bit thick skulled and old enough to watch the birth of the world. Kyle often said the man couldn’t tell a pig from his own mother, and though you chastised him and told him that was rude to say, you knew he was right. You had once gone into town to shop at the store he worked at and watched him struggle to figure out how much change he needed to give back to you. Instead of holding down the shop like he was supposed to, he was on his horse, very red in the face and speeding towards your home. 

“What else did you do while you were in town?” you questioned as you held a damp pair of jeans. 

Previously unbothered, Kyle stopped what he was doing and turned his attention to the road. The soft smile on his face vanished and was replaced with confusion. “Nothin’ that would warrant him showin’ up here.” 

Sighing, Kyle quickly dried his hands off on the thighs of his jeans before resting a hand on the small of your back. Even through the fabric of your blouse you could feel how the warmth of him bleed through into your skin. The two of you stood there absolutely dumbfounded as you watched Mr. Davis struggle to park his horse next to Spot. It was lazy and half-assed work and you watched the reins slowly begin to unknot, but he stormed up the path anyway, up through the gate, and started to shake his finger as he approached you and Kyle. 

“Mr. Davis!” Kyle greeted, a bit tense as he took a few steps towards the man. “What can I help you with?” 

“Help? You can help by returning my bell!” the man shouted, his hoarse voice hardly carrying over the distance. 

He stopped just short of the end of the clothes line and he crossed his arms over his chest. Sweat laid in heavy beads across his forehead, and his breathing was far more labored than it should have been. His lips sat in a thin line and you noticed how his eyebrow kept twitching as he stood there glaring at your husband. 

“I apologize, but I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re talkin’ about,” Kyle admitted as his thumbs dipped back into his pockets. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Mr. Davis snapped as he pointed his finger. “You snuck it into that bag of yours, didn’t you?” 

Instinctively, your hand clutched at the pocket of your apron where you kept the pouch Kyle had used to store the items for dinner. It was mostly spices and small vegetables; certainly nothing that could have been confused with any bell. Mr. Davis must have caught sight of your reaction because he took another step forward in an attempt to walk around Kyle. 

“Yes! That one!” he exclaimed. He held his hand out with the intention of snatching it from you, and you found yourself stumbling backwards. “Hand it here, girl!” 

Before the man could get close to you, Kyle’s hand shot out and grabbed Mr. Davis by his wrist. The only other time you had seen Kyle that angry was when someone had spilled bourbon over his brand new chaps. It took ages for you to help him get the stench of alcohol out of them, and a rumor had started going around that he was a drunk because of the stench. But the fire in his eyes then was nothing but a small spark compared to the raging storm that ate up the sweet brown hue of his irises. 

“You best remember who you’re talkin’ to,” Kyle warned. “That’s my wife and you’d do well to treat her with respect.” 

As if the store clerk wasn’t riled up enough, being grabbed by Kyle certainly pushed him over the edge. He tried to wrestle his arm out of your husband’s grip, but Kyle was infinitely stronger than the rather fragile man. All he had managed to do was flail his arms until his hand caught on the collar of one of Kyle’s work shirts. Pins came flying loose as the clothing was tossed down into the dirt on the ground. 

“Respect?” Mr. Davis repeated incredulously. “Awfully interesting of you to request respect when you stole something right under my nose!” 

“Mr. Davis, please,” you tried to reason, “I’m not quite sure what it is you’re looking for.” 

“My bell!” he shouted in response, arms still flailing against Kyle’s grip. 

“Well, yes, but perhaps if you took a moment to breathe and explain-” 

“Or your lying husband could give back what’s mine!” he interrupted. 

“Alright,” Kyle warned, “that’s enough outta you.” 

What unfolded in front of you was so confusing you didn’t have the words to explain it. Mr. Davis wasn’t an insidious man, by any means, just extremely dense, so when Kyle tried to drag him off your property, he did his best not to hurt the man. Though the man had nothing on your husband's strength, he certainly knew how to flail. Shirts, dresses, jeans; several articles of clothing flew to the ground as Mr. Davis managed to tangle himself in the clothing line. If you hadn’t spent the better part of the last hour or so washing them by hand, you would have thought the sight was a bit comedic. Instead you found yourself cringing at the awkwardness of it all. 

Your only saving grace through it all was that another horse galloped at full speed towards your home. Clay Turner was the owner of the store Mr. Davis worked for, so it only made sense he was the one you saw racing towards your home. He was a fine and charismatic gentleman, but you had caught him sneaking fresh produce into his pockets on several occasions. You weren’t sure how a business could be as successful as his when he shoved his mouth full of his product any chance he could get, but you weren’t one to judge too harshly when the prices were so cheap. 

“Whole damn town coming to visit?” you mumbled to yourself. 

“Mr. Davis!” he called, nearly tossing himself onto the ground as he rushed through the gate. “Stop harassing these poor folks!” 

But the man was still too busy tussling with Kyle to pay much attention to his boss. Clay shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small metal item that he held lazily up in the air. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was a small bell; the type to put on a desk or counter in order to call someone over. Was this the item Mr. Davis came all that way to accost your husband over? 

It wasn’t until Clay started to ring the bell that the man stopped struggling, but even then his eyes found you as he pointed at you once more. “Ah, so you do have it! Give it here this instant!” 

“Oh, you senile old man,” Clay muttered. With more force than needed, he yanked Mr. Davis away from Kyle and shoved the bell into his hands. The man looked down, completely astounded. “Maggie’s boy snatched it off the counter, you idiot. Now get on your horse and get back to work.” 

Burning red shame on his face, Mr. Davis looked up from his bell, to Kyle, and then to you before watching his feet as he walked back towards the gate without so much as an apology. Sighing, Clay offered the two of you a short smile as he wiped his hands off on the front of his shirt. 

“I apologize for that delirious old man,” he said sincerely. “He bought a desk bell for the front counter and brought it into work today. Says it’s easier to keep track of customers while he’s doing inventory. As you can tell it’s… very important to him.”

“So I noticed,” Kyle deadpanned. 

Clay’s face tensed as he glanced at you and then to the ground. A myriad of clothing was scattered everywhere with heavy amounts of dirt smudged into the fabric. On the front of your favorite blush pink blouse was a large footprint. You’d be lying if you said that sight didn’t upset you a little bit. 

“I apologize for the mess, Mrs. Garrick,” Clay continued. “I’ll make sure to give you a mighty fine discount next time you visit the store.” 

One short and awkward farewell later, Clay and Mr. Davis slowly faded away down the road. Dumbfounded, Kyle turned to face you with a small shake of his head. His hat had been knocked off in the midst of their argument, but had been caught by his stampede strings and rested against his back. A few buttons had either been torn off or came loose because the top part of his shirt was open, exposing his sternum. Glistening skin laid underneath, and you found your eyes drawn to it like a moth to a flame. 

“Knew I should’ve gone to Clancy’s,” Kyle sighed. “Why don’t you head inside and start supper? I’ll clean up out here.” 

Humming, you reached for him and rested your hand on his chest. Sweat covered his skin in a thin sheen, and he felt warm to the touch. Whatever irritation that had been on his face melted away into a smirk as he rested his hand on top of yours. 

“What?” he teased, smirk morphing into a grin. “You asked me to make it up to you earlier, didn’t you?” 

“I had something a little more fun in mind than you doing chores,” you admitted. 

As he thought for a moment, your hand slowly trailed down his sternum, only stopping when you had been blocked by the closed buttons of his shirt. Kyle took the stampede strings from around his throat and grabbed a hold of his hat before quickly placing it on your head. It was a few sizes too big and fit oddly on your head, and you found your hands flying up to keep it on straight. 

“How about we wait to have fun until we’re sure we won’t get any more visitors?” he suggested. 

A part of you wanted to say you didn’t care, but you knew that if Mr. Davis came by again to pitch a fit while you were trying to spend quality time with Kyle, the sheriff would be investigating a murder. So you huffed in agreement before crossing your arms. 

“Alright,” you conceded. “Suppose I might as well put these ingredients to good use after all the trouble you went through to get it.” 

Kyle’s hand came up to your chin and tilted your head upwards. He placed a short, chaste kiss on your lips before diving back in for a deeper one. A part of you almost wished he hadn’t because that only made your desire for him grow stronger. It took everything within you to keep your hands to yourself, and you instead busied your fingers with the task of keeping his hat on your head. You still felt him lingering on your lips in a pleasant tingle even after he pulled away. 

“Atta girl.” 

cowboy hat rule cowboy hat rule cowboy hat rule

#gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod gaz x reader #cowboy!gaz

[cod-z]

[NSFW 18+] Pegging Series (Anon Reveal)

Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: NSFW 18+, Title itself explanatory

Pairing(s): Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Stoic!Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

| One-shots | A/N: My anon reveal and brain-rot. For those who knows said story, yes, I am THAT anon from said blog

---------------------------

Grabbing Johnny by his mohawk, the strap-on already digging its way inside his tight asshole, shoving his cock into Gaz’s ass, was an erotic sight for anyone who dares to peek through the slight gap at your door. The thrill of being caught pegging your subordinates on your bed only made the two men underneath you whimper and squirm, literal bitches in heat.

Ever since your encounter with Simon, you needed to release some of that pent up energy, those thoughts you had onto the two people that were under your beck and call when they were so needy.

“Behave mutt, don’t ruin my pretty pillow Princess without my permission,” when did you become so much more vocal? Both of the two sergeants thought before being bottomed out, only thinking about the immense pleasure that you relish them in. “Beg me.”

Johnny was confused before feeling his cock being pulled out from Kyle, who whimpered in protest, his hole lacking the fleshy rod that was drawing him close to his orgasm. Johnny would’ve felt pity if he wasn’t still being thrusted from behind, his ass meeting with your pelvis as his gives out gargled groans and whimpers as you hold him tightly around his neck, not hard enough to cut off his air-way but enough for that nice feeling to wrap around his head.

“Be me, Kyle. Beg me and this mutt to ruin you pretty little hole~” oh the way you growled made Kyle’s head spin, his eyes dilating at this new tone of yours. The effect went the same way for Johnny, his whimper louder while you watched his cock twitch from the sound of your voice. “Spread that tight hole for me and Johnny boy and we’ll give you what you want.”

Pretty, obedient Kyle spread his cheeks open before you spat down on it, making the sergeant flinch at the sudden wetness before you push Johnny down onto him, making his cock enter Kyle without warning sending Johnny to his second orgasm while Kyle moaned loudly. Your hand flies towards Kyle’s mouth as you hush him.

“Shhhh, Pretty-boy, don’t want the higher-ranks to see the perfect, poised sergeant being such a dirty, pillow princess for me, now do we?” Kyle weakly nods his head, tears already at the brim of pleasure, whining into your hand begging you to let Johnny move so he can cum as well.

Leaning back as you give Johnny space to move his hips but the tired mutt was already shaking and drooling on Kyle’s chest from the double pleasure he felt, his cock already softened inside Kyle. Now that won’t do. You grind the strap-on into Johnny’s ass, hitting deeper inside him making him gasp, his body jerking up as he felt his overstimulated cock twitch back to life.

“That’s it, good boy, Johnny. You haven’t let my Princess cum yet, you greedy thing.”

Johnny lets out a pained moan from his ass overused by you but you couldn’t stop yet, not until Kyle had his fill. Without warning your hips bucked against Johnny, his moans mixed with Kyle’s as you took over the pace. Your strap-on into Johnny’s ass, Johnny’s cock in Kyle’s.

Your hand pushes Johnny’s head, forcing him and Kyle to kiss under your watch, both men moaning at the power you have over them. They both moaned your name with each thrust of your hips, before both of them started to mumble nonsense or what was close to your name in gibberish.

“My perfect boys, cum for me.”

A hand reaches down and jerks off Kyle, the motion creating a domino effect as Kyle comes on his and Johnny’s chest and stomach, Johnny comes as Kyle clenches down on him while you release onto your strap-on. All three of you panting heavily, Johnny falls on top of Kyle not caring about the mess.

After cleaning them up, you go to get changed but a pair of hands stops you. Oh shit. “Stay,” they both pleaded.

And like with Simon… you gave in and stayed, cuddled dead in the centre, a cuddly grave as you dig yourself into more shit. Fuck.

#cod z #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #cod x you #modern warfare x reader #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfic #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #john soap mctavish #soap mactavish #call of duty smut #cod smut #smut #x reader #johnny x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny x reader smut #kyle gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick x y/n

[barbecutie]

some art i commissioned back when i had domino and midas brain rot.... oops [ commission by Sun_Citadel // twitter ]

#fortnite #fortnite art #midas #midas fortnite #domino #domino marvel #neena thurman #i will not elaborate other than [glitch noises that prolong for about 5 hours] #sun_citadel art

[metalhoops]

Remember this post? 

They were in the belly of the beast. 

The Creel House stood resolute, tinged the colour of a freshly heal wound, reopened. The same sickly red stain of The Upside Down sky, brown boards blue-hued from strange smokes and cinder. Part of Eddie felt like he’d seen the house before, in some half-remembered nightmare. Deep in the back of his brain, where all strange primal fears were housed, there was a spot saved for the decaying manner. 

By all rights, Eddie shouldn’t have been in the house. If they’d followed the original plan, he’d have been on the roof of the trailer. It’d been Wheeler, of all people who’d changed things. She was a smart girl, too damn smart for her own good in Eddie’s opinion. She’d pointed out all the ways their plan could go wrong and as much as Eddie wanted to redeem the Munson name, he didn’t want to walk into a death trap if he could help it. 

Nancy was right. That didn’t change the creeping sense of dread he felt whenever he looked her way. It was like one of Vecna’s vines had made a home in his stomach and was creeping up towards his mouth each time the girl did something impressive. Eddie had the sneaking suspicion something was swaying his feelings towards her. Something with light brown hair, who had entered the Creel house brandishing a baseball bat like a medieval sword. 

Jesus H. Christ. Seeing Steve Harrington wield the tetanus trap of a baseball bat, full of splintering wood and rusted nails wasn’t a sight he’d ever pictured living to see. 

Drifting in from the wasteland beyond the open door, Eddie could hear his amps playing ‘Master of Puppets’ on the boom box they’d borrowed from the Harringtons’. The poor little player had never gotten the taste for good music. Eddie had to admit it was a good idea. 

He, Steve and Dustin set up the trap. Once the bats began to swarm the trailer the two older boys boosted Dustin up and out of the portal, much to the kid’s protest. They then snuck around the back of the trailer, while the girls waited in the woods ahead. Nancy had her sawn-off trained on the swarm. Robin had her Molotovs. Range weapons, waiting in the wings. He and Steve were the best at evasion. If this were a campaign, he’d say they made a pretty balanced party, all things considered. 

The interior of the house was worse than Eddie expected. It was filled with rotted vines and ash, making the air smell of must and mildew. Eddie’s brain kept telling him to turn tail and run, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. 

He shifted his shield from one hand to the next as they moved deeper into the house, channelling his nervous energy away from his feet. One misstep and their distraction would be for nothing. Their plan was a house of cards. One gust of wind and the whole damn thing would blow over. If Eddie screwed up Red, along with everyone else in the Creel house, would be dead before the world had time to end. 

Steve took the lead up the stairs like Eddie knew he would. He had a hero complex Eddie couldn’t unpick. Once everything was over, he had questions about what the party had seen the last three times they’d decided to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight. There was something about Steve Harrington he couldn’t put his finger on. Sure, trauma could change a person, Eddie was learning that lesson the hard way, but the man charging up the stairs towards their inevitable death in too-tight pants and an army jacket had some explaining to do. 

He wasn’t sure who’d done it in the end. Whose foot made first contact with the blackened tendrils, the dominos fell too fast to pinpoint an epicentre. Nancy's body jerked one way, while Steve was sent skyward. His back hit the walls of the house with a sickly wet thud, a mass of undulating vines threatening to swallow him whole. Robin was on the floor at the foot of the steps, hacking away at the vines with an axe. Eddie was pushed against the bannister, all the air fleeing his lungs. This was how he would die. 

The sound of distant wings grew ever louder as Eddie’s vision began to blacken around the edges. 

In Eddie’s fading vision, he watched as a sliver of light glinted off something overhead. The axe fell like a guillotine, too close to Eddie’s head for comfort. He was free. He took greedy gulps of air, his eyes making contact with Buckley’s. She looked as shocked as he did, like a nocturnal animal caught in floodlights.

They didn’t have time. Robin was off, desperately hacking skywards at the vines still ensnaring Steve. He’d managed to wedge the bat between the vine and his throat. Rusted nails dug deeper into the black mass as it attempted to constrict, but it also buried the nails deeper into Steve’s flesh. 

Eddie ran to help Nancy, her lips blue as her fingers blindly grasped for the shotgun that’d landed just out of reach. Nancy was smart, but like all people, the fear of death made her dumb. A bullet to the jugular wasn’t going to fix this. 

Eddie tried to slide his fingers between the vine and her throat, to relieve some of the pressure. His fingers kept slipping, sticky with sap or blood. He didn’t know. He wished he had a knife as he tried to untangle the vines from ensnaring her body. There was nothing more he could do. He had to sit and wait as he felt the fight begin to fade from her convulsing body. He listened distantly to Robin’s slew of curses as she hacked at drywall. For each vine cut from Steve’s body, there was another waiting to ensnare him. 

Life-or-death situations had a strange way of bringing one's true feelings to the surface. Eddie crouched beside Nancy, his hand clawing at the vine encircling her throat, watching as her panic-ridden eyes flickered across his face. He noticed her hand twitching up trying to pry the vine from its hold on her throat and Eddie’s arm. She was so weak he hadn’t noticed her attempt. He ran a thumb absentmindedly back and forth across her knuckles, trying to soothe her. 

“Hey, no. Hey. You’re fine, Wheeler. You’re okay. Slow breaths, alright? You’ve got this,” he muttered hating how uncertain he sounded, how strained his voice was. 

He didn’t hate Nancy. He’d hate himself if he let Steve’s chance of a storybook ending die in his arms but Christ that was a lot of pressure. 

He crouched there until his fingers turned white and an axe descended upon the vines, cutting them both free. Wheeler gasped, taking deep shaky breaths as she squeezed Eddie’s hand, locking eyes with Buckley over his shoulder. She schooled her features when Steve came into view. His throat wept blood but he was upright, which was more than Eddie could’ve hoped for. 

The vines began to retreat for a reason they couldn’t discern. The group rushed to the second-floor landing, as the swarm of bats descended upon the house, rushing in through the open door. Eddie watched as something shifted in Steve’s stance. He twisted the baseball bat in his hands, familiarising himself with the weapon before taking a few practice swings. 

“Keep going. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Steve spoke. 

Eddie knew it wasn’t a good plan. He knew what happened to the people who stayed behind. Steve had warned him about playing the hero. Eddie wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. 

He held his shield aloft in front of himself, trying to see how much of his body he could brace behind it. If this were a campaign, Eddie knew fighting something that nasty on your own would be akin to a death sentence. 

“I’m staying. Even the odds,” Eddie spoke, as though two boys fresh off the heels of adolescence taking on a swarm of hundreds of unearthly horrors was in any way shape or form, even.  They just had to hold them off until Vecna was dead. The hellscape couldn’t survive without him. Cut off the head and the rest would follow. 

If they had more time, maybe things would’ve gone differently. Maybe they would’ve come up with a better plan, but there was no time. Robin looked poised for an argument or a thought-out speech but Nancy cocked the shotgun and dragged her forward. She knew the silent promise that came with goodbyes. 

The boys were faced with a black mass of writhing wings. They found a rhythm with ease. Steve swung his bat in a perfect arch, sending any unfortunate hell spawn in its wake flying into Eddie’s waiting shield, empaled on the jagged nails. 

Eddie was surprised at how easy it was to find something akin to peace at that moment. He and Steve knew how to move around each other, and how to anticipate each other. They watched the other’s back and oftentimes found themselves back-to-back. Steve’s broad shoulders were grounding where they pressed into Eddie’s. It was the world's strangest game of baseball. With Steve at his side, the horror of the moment seemed to fall away. 

They worked better together than Eddie could’ve imagined and lasted longer than he’d thought. Yet, they couldn’t hold out much longer. The room smelled of rotted iron and Eddie’s sides throbbed. He was too hopped up on adrenaline for the seriousness of the situation to take hold, but one look at Steve in his periphery let him know they were both in bad shape. 

The boy was covered in blood. The wound in his side was torn open once more. Someone could trace their movement by the bloody footprints littering the floor. 

They were dying. 

Eddie tried not to let the enormity of the situation swallow him whole. 

“Hey? How’s it going in there? You killin’ the son of a bitch or just admiring the view?” Eddie screamed above the beating of wings. When a response didn’t come, Steve and Eddie exchanged worried looks. 

“Rob?” Steve yelled, casting a glance through the doorway. 

The moment of distraction left him wide open for a bat to swoop, wrapping its twisted tail around Steve’s arm and tugging him upwards. Eddie acted fast, grabbing Steve’s ankle, and pulling him back to the relative safety of the rotting boards, bloated and warping from the mingling blood and black, bat ooze. 

“I can’t find the lighter,” Robin’s voice called at last. It must have fallen from her pocket when the vines attacked. Shit. 

Eddie plunged his hands into the depths of his jacket pocket and thanked the god he didn’t believe in for his habit of chain smoking in times of crisis. He’d brought another lighter. 

“Watch my six Stevie, I’ve got one,” Eddie called, rushing into the room leaving no space to argue. 

Nancy had slung the rifle over her shoulder and had taken Robin’s axe, making short work of the few bats that’d managed to sneak past his and Steve’s defences. 

Eddie ran to Robin’s side, noticing how the girl’s eyes swelled at seeing him. He was definitely in bad shape then. Her hands trembled as she held out the bottle. Time and time again, Eddie tried to light the cloth. It wasn’t working.

Nothing was working. Panic finally took hold of Eddie. They were going to die. He wished he could say he made peace with that knowledge, but he couldn’t. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie mumbled as the lighter continued to dull and spark. 

“What’s going on? I’m coming in,” Steve yelled as he appeared in the doorway barring the opening as best he could, trying to hold the flimsy wood as it buckled beneath the bats' weights. 

Steve’s eyes shifted over the scene, assessing the situation within seconds. 

He charged forward, taking the bottle from Robin’s hands, and letting the rag fall to the floor. 

“Nancy, get ready to shoot,” Steve called as he stalked closer to Vecna’s dangling body. A look passed between the two. The glance told Nancy everything she needed to know.

“Eds, lighter,” Steve called over his shoulder extending his hand. Eddie blinked, tossing it to Steve. 

Eddie would remember what happened next for the rest of his life. Whether that life lasted for minutes or decades, it didn’t matter. There was no such thing as a perfect moment, but what followed was as close as they could come. 

Steve took a deep swig of vodka, filling his cheeks with the bitter liquid and held Eddie’s lighter aloft, the small flame illuminating Steve’s features, a final spark of warmth amongst the blue-grey walls and ash of the house. His hands dripped blood, what was left of his skin was pale from the loss of it. 

Steve spat the alcohol in a perfect arc, through the flame, breathing fire over Vecna’s body, catching the dark wizard alight. Steve was a fallen king turned dragon. A higher kind of nobility. Breathtaking, unearthly, and dangerous. 

As Nancy littered Vecna’s body with bullets, Eddie kept his eyes trained on Steve, his heart in his throat. Eddie wasn’t one for sudden affections. His heart was an alley cat, wary and distrustful by nature. Yet, despite everything, Eddie fell in love with Steve at that moment. His heart soared straight past ‘crush’ and on through to adoration. Maybe it was the blood loss but with Vecna’s dead body on the floor at their feet, he knew at that moment, his life would be inextricably connected to Steve’s. 

The boy shot him a smile over his shoulder, his lip bloody, vodka smattering his chin. The room smelled of kindling. 

The girls rushed to Steve, taking turns embracing him. The sound of bats at the door had finally stopped. It was over. They’d won. 

Eddie watched on helplessly as Steve rested his forehead against Robin’s, holding the girl close, his face contorting in pain. Robin muttered a string of incoherent words just loud enough for Steve to hear before pulling back. 

Nancy was next. Their hug was less feverish, more familiar. Nancy’s chin rested on Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s hands gripped the back of her shirt as they had a hundred times before. They looked good together. It made Eddie ache. He looked away. 

When he looked back, to his surprise Robin had scooped Nancy into a too-tight hug, blathering about how petrified she’d been and how amazing Nancy was. Much to his surprise, Steve was looking at him, his arms open in offering. 

The others were close. They had gone through hell together. Eddie was the outsider. It felt strange being offered a place amongst them, but he didn’t know when he’d get another opportunity, so he strode forward letting Steve’s arms encircle his body. 

It wasn’t the kind of hug he’d expected. It wasn’t feverish, like Robin’s or as solid and steadfast as Nancy’s. Steve clung to him, his hands gripped at Eddie’s forearms, as though trying to map out the uncharted territory before pulling him closer. His hands snaked around Eddie’s body, finally finding a home, clutching at the shirt fabric around his shoulder blades.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with his hands, finding them slipping beneath Steve’s jacket, just above his waist. His head found its way to Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s did the same. He could feel the boy’s heart pounding. He smelled of sweat, blood, and alcohol. 

“You’re a total badass, Steve Harrington.” Eddie gasped. His breath was hot against Steve’s ear. The boy chuckled, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

“I don’t know, Munson. That’s high praise comin’ from a hero,” Steve spoke.

“I’m not-,” Eddie began, but Steve wasn’t having it. 

“Take a compliment dude. You went to Mordor,” Steve spoke in the tone of a man who still didn’t know exactly what ‘Mordor’ was. 

Hawkins’ golden boy, trying to ‘speak nerd’ to him wasn’t quelling any of Eddie’s feelings. 

“Yeah well, next time we go somewhere let’s make it nice. Check out The Rockies, The Grand Canyon, maybe California.” 

Later Eddie would blame the blood loss for being so bold. 

Steve pulled back, just far enough to look at Eddie’s face. To his surprise, Steve shot him a goofy grin. 

“I like the sound of that.” 

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre slash #robin buckley #Nancy Wheeler #hint at #ronance #fruity four #the fruity four #eddie munson lives #steddie ficlet #ficlet #drabble #steddie drabble #platonic stobin #platonic edancy #I finally decided to write the thing for you guys #hope you enjoy #they probably pass out #two seconds later from blood loss #then wake up next to each other #in their hospital beds #Eddie is half-high and won't stop #rambling to Dustin about #how badass Steve is #Steve is wide awake and also half high #listening to Eddie gush to Dustin #The second Eddie so much as mentioned #not hating the idea of a road trip with the six nuggets

[kylo-wrecked]

{ cont'd from here, because i, like some people, had no chill }

Tenements creaked like broken bones. Old bones. Their windows whistled while the Domino Sugar Factory flipped the bird across the way. Pigeons and crows roosted on the tired arms of streetlamps, shaking out their wings. Dark pinions overlapped darker pinions in a black tangle, not unlike Ben's hair. The wind could've blown them away, man and Valkyrie both. Ben and his sharp teeth laughed at the sky. The stars, ghosts. Below, the East River laughed with him, rolling and hissing endlessly.

His laugh was curt, there and then gone, and he regarded Brunnhilde, this sliver of moonlight with the hardness of a diamond, pursing his lips in thought. Ben was listening.

Maybe selectively. Maybe with what was left of his soul. Maybe he felt as the Valkyrie did. Maybe not—maybe they didn't want the same things. Maybe he didn't give a good God damn. Nor had he ever wanted glories, ashes, feathers, and fallen sisters. He didn't care for such things any more than he'd cared for flying business class.

Ben Solo was made for the travails and tragedies of fruitless human endeavor. He was made to rot. Was she? From what she described, Ragnarok seemed like another exercise in futility: it meant nothing. Even gods destroyed themselves. 

Even gods answered questions with questions. 

When Brunnhilde pierced Ben with her gaze and asked her questions, he provided a statement. 

"Home is sound and the color it makes. That's me."

Ben was also made for music. His fingers, their seemingly preternatural familiarity with stringed instruments, the branching pathways in his brain, drawing shape and flavor from things not meant to have form, taste, or tincture. 

Additionally, he might have thought he was made for reality, the state of things as they exist, even when they have wings.  

"You? You sound like a woman," he said, shrugging at Brunnhilde, her pretty pissed-off face. "Maybe you belong to yourself now. Maybe your home is being angry. How the shit should I know? You 'belong to nothing?' Then why're you so proud? You ever think of that?"

Tapped at his temple as the wind ruffled through those black locks, and the pigeons cooed, and the crows laughed along as they ascended from the sudden smell of rain. 

"Do you have feathers up there, too?" 

#valkxrie #m. au | music!verse ben: nowhere man #r. of those who sold the world

[welcometomyoasis]

Shu's Seventeen Song Recs (for @heavenfilm) - sorry obviously I didn't add every single song in but they have no skips so I recommend just listening to everything!

Shu's cry songs (ie, the songs I listen to when I write angst... or the songs that some of my moots might want to yank away from me because I love angst haha also yes I'm aware some of these are happier sounding songs...)

when I grow up

healing (I listen to this when I travel and it does make me sob on the airplane...)

beautiful

highlight (uhm... idk how to explain this being here... I love the soothing sound of the music)

lean on me

don't listen in secret

smile flower

don't wanna cry

habit

if i

without u

lilili yabbay (same as highlight I like the sound of the music)

pinwheel

flower

campfire

thanks

run to you

our dawn is hotter than day (I listen to this during plane take offs... also makes me sob for some reason)

hug

home

lie again

247

second life

fallin flower

my my

kidult

together

24H

all my love

not alone

anyone

same dream, same mind, same night

imperfect love

I can't run away

2 minus 1

power of love

circles

don quixote

shadow

if you leave me

fml

I don't understand but I luv u

dust

April shower

Now - even if the world ends tomorrow

SOS

yawn

headliner

silent boarding gate (jun solo)

hai cheng (minghao solo)

Shu's happy music (ie, the songs I listen to when I want to be hyped up)

adore u

20

mansae

pretty u

love letter

aju nice

beautiful

boom boom

swimming fool (SUPER FUN SONG)

CLAP

flower

rocket

thinkin' about you

call call call!

holiday

come to me

moonwalker

good to me

shhh

getting closer

happy ending

hit

fear

let me hear you say

network love

back it up

snap shoot

left and right

together

Home;Run

Ah! Love

heaven's cloud

ready to love

anyone

Gam3 Bo1

Wave

to you

rock with you

crush

Pang!

darl+ling

_world

hot

don quixote

March

domino

shadow

'bout you

ash

dream

super

fire

Sara Sara

god of music

diamond days

back 2 back

monster

psycho (jun solo)

tiger power (uhm... Hoshi's unofficial solo)

spider (hoshi solo)

Shu's favs (ie, Shu's favourite songs... oddly similar to Shu's cry songs...)

pretty u

aju nice

don't wanna cry

habit

if i

pinwheel

campfire

thinkin' about you

thanks

run to you

come to me

our dawn is hotter than day

good to me

hug

happy ending

fear

network love

fallin flower

left and right

together

kidult

Ah! Love

all my love

heaven's cloud

ready to love

anyone

gam3 bo1

to you

rock with you

imperfect love

I can't run away

2 minus 1

_world

Hot

don quixote

shadow

'bout you

if you leave me

ash

fml

super

fire

I don't understand but I luv u

dust

April shower

Sara Sara

SOS

headliner

yawn

silent boarding gate

hai cheng

Shu's picks (ie, songs which gives me HUGE brain rot for seventeen. either the videos are my favourites or I love the growls in the song... ahem anyway)

pretty u (listen... jeonghan's fancam from one of last year's performances when his hair was long... my absolute favourite)

aju nice (needs no explanation)

healing

don't wanna cry

if I (I love the instrumental in between the verses)

pinwheel

flower

rocket

falling for you (duet between my loves? jeonghan and Joshua? yes please)

call call call! (the intro is everything)

holiday (just a fun song!)

our dawn is hotter than day

good to me (this does something to me....)

hug

happy ending

fear

network love

back it up

network love

fallin flower (fun fact! there's this panda I like who always rolls around... her name is he Hua which means peace flower.. anyway when she rolls I literally hum fallin fallin fallin...)

left and right

kidult

24H

Ah! Love (the 95 liners in one song? them saying ah! love is you? obviously I love it)

all my love

heaven's cloud (soft yet fluffy)

ready to love (Joshua's voice is dreamy)

anyone (I fell in love with Joshua because of the special video)

gam3 bo1 (really fun sound!)

rock with you

crush

Pang!

2 minus 1 (American duo!!!)

darl+ling

circles (ie the song that makes all carats sob)

HOT

don quixote

shadow (.... the growls.. I just melt)

ash

fml

super

fire (watch the fancam...)

I don't understand but I luv u (also... watch the fancam)

dust

April shower

Sara Sara

SOS

headliner

god of light music (duh!)

#shu's daydreaming ☁︎ #yea this is almost everything i think #obviously i didn't include every single song although i love all of seventeen's discography #this is my personal taste so if anyone is wondering where a certain song is #it's in my playlists i do listen to all of seventeen's songs #these are just my picks to recommend to heaven #Spotify

[writingmysanity]

One year back on Tumblr

So, I am a little late on this since my one year mark was on the 21st. I originally wanted to do something fun for my one year anniversary but I realized that I just am burnt out at the moment. I am sure that you've noticed the lack of content- and I am sorry. I am hoping soon.

Instead, I've decided to make a post for some of the highlights since I've come back to tumblr. I've met so many wonderful people that I know that I wouldn't have had the honor to meet otherwise. I just want to list some of my mutuals and also artists and writers I've had the opportunity to find and interact with that i think you should all check out their content if you haven't already.

I am going to separate this by fandom lol because I love you all but I tend to lose myself in trying to remember everyone sometimes.

The Witcher first because it is what gave me the inspiration to come back and share my random bits of writing with you all.

@seidenbros steffi, beloved, you are truly the sweetest and kindest person ever. I have been blessed with your presence. you have been one of my biggest sources of encouragement and defiantly a huge enabler. you have listened to countless rants and ideas of story ideas that didn't always take off but that didn't stop us from ranting about them and fleshing them out to the point where they may as well have appeared, fully written and perfectly edited.

@cosmos-coma hello, sweetheart <3 one- happy belated birthday once more. I am so angry with myself for having gotten it wrong. Thank you for the light youve brought to my life. our letters and just being able to have someone to talk about the random craziness in life has been the absolute craziness of this world and our lives has been amazing. thank you for everything youve done, your unending adoration for my mini me who is the epitome of chaos but makes for some hilarious stories. I love our friendship more than words could ever properly express.

@queenxxxsupreme Kacey, you're probably my biggest enabler. you are an amazing writer, and an even better friend- even if you don't feel like you are sometimes. you've helped me through more than you realize in the last year that we've known each other. I can't wait to enact our plans to run away to another state and be cryptids in the woods and sell fancy cheese to rich people by the sea shore.

@daughterofautumn Goose, I haven't known you quite as long as the others but you have definitely sewn yourself perfectly into my life. your chaos and crazy energy fuels me daily. you and your obsessions (inadvertently dragging me into said obsessions) make my entire day. i love your energy. not to mention the absolute chaos that is your life. please sleep more darling, and drink plenty of water. I worry.

Arcane next!

this fandom was one that I defiantly stalked in silence for at least a month before I finally gave into the brain rot specifically for a wonderful person who amazes me with the depths of the love and kindness Shes shown to everyone who has the absolute pleasure to engage with her.

@grumpyoutlaw Grumpy, my beloved- my muse. you have been nothing but an absolute delight, a light, the very heart of this fandom. your art was what brought me into your orbit but your kindness has kept me around. writing that first piece for you was possibly the most spur of the moment but also the greatest domino that has affected the sheer amount of community i have been honored to encounter. thank you for everything. I adore you so much!

@thedreamlessnights Jams. I don't even know where to start. thank you for being so wonderful to me. your vampire fic was pinnacle for dragging me into this fandom well before i even fully committed to the fandom itself. and you followed me?? before I posted anything?? it always baffled me. you claim it was vibes lol and ill take it. you're an amazing writer and friend and I cant believe i get to call such an amazing, open, supportive person my friend. the space you've opened for everyone who wishes to let them have space to be themselves has been a blessing on my day-to-day life.

@sherwood-forests darling, I know we haven't spoken much but you are defiantly responsible for my Silco brain rot. I took a chance on your dragon fic and I cant ever recommend it enough. not to mention how kind you are?? you are the real treasure! thank you for encouraging me and being a light for everyone in the fandom.

@cedarcia DARLING. where to start? i can't believe you follow me and i cant believe I've been given the chance to be your friend. your talent is almost as impressive as your heart. you're always the first to hop on the train to try and help someone the best you can. I cant wait to visit and dress up like pirates to go sailing.

@thehistoriangirl first and foremost, your rants your T A G S... darling they give me life. getting to freaking out over our blorbos and stories we are working on (with a sprinkle of life outside fandom) has been amazing. bouncing ideas with you has never been boring in any capacity and the only thing i know to expect when i see that I've gotten a message from you is sheer just E N E R G Y and i LIVE for it. it is unmatched. not to mention you are 100% an enabler. ahaha

@mariana-souza getting to know you, in the short time that I've gotten to, has been amazing. getting to see how much work you put into your work- both art and writing- has been motivating to say the least. i love that we are able to just scream about things together- how you always seem to know what questions to ask when were talking about each others WIPs. your art is what brought you to my attention, and I am so glad I made the decision to interact with you further.

Shadow and Bone/Six of crows next!!

somehow, i feel like this fandom is simultaneously the smallest of the fandoms i find myself somewhat active in, but also the most tight knit.

@maliciousbrekker Cal. I don't know where to start- you are a wonderfully talented person and so very kind to everyone (also, I am sorry about dragging you into arcane in the middle of your SOC love <3) you are so relatable and i cant help but laugh at something you've posted at least once a day because S A M E. i know we aren't super close but just knowing i have such a wonderful mutual like you, who has on more than one occasion reached out just to check on me, i appreciate you more than you know and seeing your name pop up in my notifications always brings me joy.

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @sophierequests-trashblog I adore you both, I am sorry that we don't talk more often, you are both so pure and i love the interactions that we've had, even if they've been minimal. your amazing writers that i cant ever get enough of. thank you for being so welcoming into the fandom even if I've only ever written one piece to it in total lol. <3

there are several other moots that i just haven't gotten to engage with much at all, but i see you! in my notifications every day, and it makes my day every time. @insult-2-injury @astudyincontrasts @uniquedeerwitch

and of course- I can never forget my friend @rainbowpitofdoom you have been around for so long. we have seen each other grow and change and learn. you are honestly one of the best friends I've ever had and just getting to know you as a person has made me a better person and i need you to know this. I love you lots, Chesh and i don't know where id be without you.

every single one of these lovelies are wonderfully talented and just amazing people. they are writers and artists and they are a delight to know and get to engage with- i promise. if you ever need something new, or just to read something again, please! give them some love. they deserve every bit of it.

I love you all, and if you ever ever need anything please do not hesitate to reach out. even if its just needing to talk to someone. i truly thank every lucky star out there that ive been lucky enough to meet you all.

#ru speaks #i love you all so much #i am so appreciative of you all #for your love and support since ive come back

[threadmonster]

"if I can't defeat him then you have no chance"

"I'm not alone because Akutagawa is here with me"

"why would we need more than each other to win???"

"don't fucking touch me, I don't want cooties!!!"

What do you mean this is not verbatim dialogue??

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #akutagawa ryunosuke #atsushi nakajima #shin soukoku #sskk #{domino's brain rot} #i have several posts to make cuz of the glitch

[inkribbon796]

Egotober 2023 Day 1: I Just Want to Help

Summary: Silver wouldn’t go as far to say that he has a “biggest fan” just that he has someone who sees him as a “biggest inspiration”. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem, however Silver is a superhero with two dangerous supervillain enemies who run a massive criminal organization.

Prompt: Cape

A/N: Been a while, dealing with some serious writer’s block brain rot. Hoped to return early but didn’t happen. So I’m dropping off some Egotober stuff and hopefully some other stuff but I make no promises. This Egotober I’m going with an additional theme that was highlighted in: Six Ate Seven. So for some people it’s been a while but this works in that former reality. Where Patton is still a Lost One and deals with those characters. This is in the timeframe where they’re all still kids (teenagers to be exact). So you might see teen Ethan running around too.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Over the city streets of Egoton, Silver was keeping a watch on the town.

While he was conducting a sky patrol he heard someone calling out to him on the top of a fire escape.

“Hey, Silver!”

Silver looked over and saw the rather common sight of what looked like a kid wearing a mask. They were maybe a teenager in bright blues, a sweater and a pair of jeans, and a black domino mask that looked like it’d been brought at Spirit Halloween. A bright blue cape on and a shock of dyed blue hair.

A kid looking like a superhero was common. He and the rest of the Coalition saw it all the time. What was uncommon was one standing on top of the fire escape.

“H-Hello?” Silver said, coming to a stop to float mid air.

“I’m here to help,” he had a huge smile on his face as he half jumped up on the top of the rail and balanced on it.

“I don’t think the Coalition can legally add minors,” Silver tried to say. He didn’t wanna just crush this kid’s dreams right out the gate. Maybe in ten years they could set something up, but not now.

“No, I can fight bad guys, I can do this,” he said with a huge smile.

Silver floated over closer.

“Come on, kid,” Silver said. “This stuff is really dangerous. You can’t just be running around in a domino mask and a sweater. Wilford shots people on a whim. Dark flays people apart with his shadow aura.”

“And I have powers,” the young man said. “I can do this and I’ll do it with or without you.”

“You’re like what? Ten?” Silver asked.

“I am fourteen,” the young man boasted. “I’m a man.”

“Oh yeah, fourteen, that’s so much better,” Silver said. “You know what I was doing when I was fourteen? Playing video games and being too chickenshit to talk to girls. That’s what I was doing.”

“Yeah, because you were wasting your powers, I have them and I’m going to use them,” Ethan said.

And then he ran off and Silver’s heart was beating a little too fast. This kid was going to be the death of him. Either this kid was going to kill himself, or Mark was going to do it for him.

Silver tried to catch up with him but the kid had disappeared. Which was probably the most terrifying thing. He had to get this kid home safe and he couldn’t find him.

Silver hit his communicator. “SAM, we got a teenager running around trying to fight villains.”

“Seems like a you problem, Silver,” an automated voice said.

“No, no it’s us problem, you ass. He can turn invisible.” Silver began flying around.

Silver wished this had happened last week when Marvin had been in town. They had absolutely no one in the Egoton branch who could follow aura trails. Maybe he could get Marvin over stateside for a while, or they could find someone who could see aura trails. He’d take anything at this point.

While he was flying around, starting with the fire escape and radiating out from there. He called his entire team out to track down one fourteen-year-old kid.

“APB, we have a fourteen-year-old punk running around and trying to be a superhero. I need help finding him before Wilford kills him. He turns invisible.”

“I hear you,” Wade said, he sounded like he was in the middle of a crowd or his mic was broken again. “Why are you chasing a child?”

“In-vis-ible, invisible, dipshit,” Silver said. “Is there some toy or tool that the Septics left last week that we can use?”

“I think I have something,” Bob said. “Marvin was testing some weird shit out when he and Average were in town.”

Silver began a mad chase through the city, which unfortunately eventually led him to the Warehouses. The superhero hoped desperately that the kid wouldn’t be here. He could be in and out and that he’d just gone home.

Silver tried being stealthy, and for a second he caught sight of the teenager he’d been chasing. And Silver’s heart sank as he started following him.

In front of one of the warehouses in the cluster was Wilford.

Silver’s literal worst case scenario.

There was someone, maybe a teenager, with him in a tweed suit. With a matching dark green hat on his head. They seemed to be talking about something, Wilford talking with his hands rather animatedly.

Then Wilford’s eyes were tracking something and Silver’s heart managed to beat even faster.

“Oh, ho,” Wilford smiled as he reached out and grabbed something. “What have we here?”

A few things happened at once. One was the teenage hero turned visible again as he fought for air against the grip on his throat. Silver flew closer, trying to get to them before Wilford shot the teenager. And then there was the far more worrying thing to happen: Dark showed up.

The kid in tweed was pulled through a portal, worrying Silver, and Dark emerged in their place. Oozing purple, blue, and a little bit of red aura, dripping off of him like toxic waste.

His eyes met Silver’s mask and he looked braced to attack.

Then his eyes tracked over to the kid. “Wilford, what are you doing?”

“Little tyke has a neat party trick, I only plucked him out of thin air,” Wilford smiled.

“Hmm, release him,” Dark said and to Silver’s amazement the madman did so.

“No fun, Darky,” Wilford frowned.

The teenager began backpedaling towards Silver, who was all too happy to push him behind him but kept a hold of his arm.

“Who’s your friend, Shepherd?” Dark’s head tilted.

“Not my friend, I’ll be escorting him back home,” Silver said.

Dark’s eyes moved between Silver and the teen behind him. His head tilted and he looked a little smug. “Is that yours, Silver?”

“No, I’d have to have been ten, if he was mine,” Silver said.

“Interesting, I would have thought you were older, but now that I think about it, you do sound twenty-four,” Dark smiled at him.

“Nope,” Silver tried to sound casual. “Not that young, I’ll take him, and we’ll be out. Forget you saw either of us. Just go back to doing illegal shit.”

“Oh, we will,” Dark smiled at him. “Now run off. And take your little child with you.”

Silver did just that, dragging the young man along but keeping an eye on Dark and Wilford.

Bob and Wade were waiting for them in costume.

“Gatling, Drowned,” Silver greeted stiffly and lifted the young man’s arm up.

Within seconds a bubble enclosed around the young man.

“Hey!” He shouted.

Bob was looking at the teenager beating his fists against the bubble.

“So this is your little Syndrome, huh?” Bob said.

“If this kid turns into a supervillain, I think you deserve it,” Wade smiled at him.

“I’m going to be a superhero and you can’t stop me,” Ethan said. “I don’t need you three to do it.”

“I don’t know, Silv, I like this kid’s moxie,” Wade said. “Maybe we can keep him around.”

The young man smiled at Wade.

“Absolutely not,” Mark said, flying up with a careful but firm grip.

He signaled and Bob made a handle grow out of the top of the bubble. Silver grabbed it and began flying off. “C’mon, before Dark follows us back to the kid’s place.” 

“Not a kid!” The young man shouted.

“You’re four-fucking-teen,” Silver shouted. Which reminded Silver. Dark had seemed to know that. But . . . That sounded off.

How did Dark know what a fourteen-year-old even looked like? As opposed to a thirteen-year-old or a ten-year-old. Dark hated kids, always looked at them with some kind of disgust.

It took some time to get both the kid’s name and his address from him. Mostly under threat of demasking and scanning his face and start calling up different schools to figure out who he was.

They arrived in front of a house in some suburban neighborhood. Not the biggest house, but no one could compete with Dark’s Hilltop Manor.

Silver knocked on the door as he popped the bubble barrier and grabbed Ethan Nestor by the arm.

“I just want to help,” Ethan glared at him. Still in his mask and costume.

“We can talk when you’re eighteen,” Silver said. “This isn’t a game. Just because I can get thrown against the wall and keep on ticking doesn’t mean everyone should be doing it.

Ethan was about to respond when the door opened and a worried looking woman opened the door.

“There you are,” she said.

Silver held up Ethan’s arm. “Ma’am, I believe this is yours.”

Ethan pulled his arm away. “I’m not going to stop.”

“You should,” Silver said. “If this was anything else I’d say follow your dreams, but Wilford is a madman and a murderer, and so is Dark.”

Ethan took off his mask and stormed inside.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just try and talk some sense into him,” Silver said. “Have a good night, ma’am.”

She said goodbye and the door was closed and Silver flew off, going back to scanning the city and hoping he wouldn’t run into Ethan again.

He was wrong of course. He’d see Ethan several times over the next couple of weeks, and then more often over the next couple of years.

In the Manor, however, Dark was chewing Wilford out.

“What was that?” Dark held Wilford against the wall, his arm barred across his chest.

Wilford smiled at him.

“No,” Dark cut him off. “You had Illinois with you, within sight of the heroes.”

“It wasn’t that bad, Darky,” Wilford said.

“Only because I was watching,” Dark said.

“At best, I’m one of your enforcers,” Illinois said.

“Don’t, or I’ll just let Arthur and Kay be enforcers and you can stay behind.” Dark gave him a look and turned back to Wilford.

“J.J is the single biggest threat the heroes have against us, and I need that time traveling bastard to stay in England dealing with Anti and not in our city.”

“Jay is fun, Darkling, come on,” Wilford smiled.

“No, and that’s final, if I see J.J in town anytime soon, you will regret it,” Dark said.

Then he let Wilford go and steered Illinois back to the living room where the rest of the Lost Ones were playing games. 

Both Ethan and Illinois returned safely home.

#Egotober 2023 #Masks and Maladies #Superhero AU #silver shepherd #ethan nestor #Darkiplier #wilford warfstache

[rust-bearer]

Anon again, here to bring you a written scene you did not ask for, so I apologize in advance lol. This is kind of a “how they met during the apocalypse” type of thing, so read if you’re interested, and if not, no harm done. I couldn’t help writing it, I just had to.

****

Rice, iodine drops, and matchboxes. He needed rice, iodine drops, and… and matchboxes, right. Or was it rice, matchboxes, and bottled water? No, there was no more bottled water. Right, right, he needed rice, filters—no, no. He needed rice, matchboxes, and… and—

First Aid wasn’t entirely certain, but if his calculations were correct, the world was nearing its third week of total destruction. Outside of his safe haven, he had begun running into fewer and fewer zombies (one of the perks of living out in the country, First Aid reminded himself), but danger still lurked around every corner. At least, every other corner, or every third, corner. His home town was small, and as such, the population remained low—save for the holiday season. It meant less chances of running into one of the undead, which meant another day that First Aid could go without adding to the crushing guilt of beating in the rotting skulls of people he used to know.

They weren’t necessarily people anymore, but it wasn’t right. It felt wrong. He felt like a murderer, as if he’d been the one to pass on the virus to the poor soul, and hated every second of defense against the living corpses that lumbered about.

First Aid kept to the wider aisles when he could, and he always peeked around every corner before moving on. For his supply run, which was rather small this time around, he had managed to sew together the perfectly shaped hand bag using a few unblemished scraps of cloth and a DIY sewing kit he’d found on his last supply run. If his family hadn’t all been turned into brain-eating monsters when the infection first appeared, First Aid imagined his half siblings probably would have teased him to no end about his “progressive” and feminine tendencies, even if he’d done nothing but pick up a needle and some thread to create the perfect bag.

As he neared the camping section—an area First Aid had paid extra attention to in the beginning, since there were plenty of resources left for long-term survival—First Aid could make out the faint sound of rustling foil. In his mind, he imagined it was another survivor like him, struggling to piece together what little was left of their broken world while avoiding the undead at all costs, but he wasn’t naive enough to give into those thoughts entirely. Anyone who had made it this far would have known better than to make so much noise.

As he crept closer to the fuel aisle, where his precious matchboxes were sure to be stored (he would’ve preferred some fire-starting kits, but those had been quickly swept up by the terrified crowds), the sounds grew louder and louder. Before he knew it, First Aid was quite literally staring into the face of the undead from behind a stack of precariously organized cans, watching as the zombie… well, he wasn’t exactly sure what the zombie was doing, but whatever it was, it looked suspicious.

He was in a much bigger dilemma now, since the zombie was standing a few inches away from the matchbox section. Strangely, First Aid felt like he was back in the real world, the normal world, and that he was awkwardly busying himself with other things while he waited for the person—in this case, a zombie—to step out of his way. Feeling pressured for time, First Aid chanced a step closer.

This, unfortunately, proved to be a grave mistake on his part.

A sound between a whimper and a startled gasp escaped him unchecked as his left hand, which had been resting against the stack of cans with little to no issue, suddenly caused an entire domino effect. Frozen to the spot by an awful sense of dread, First Aid watched as the cans toppled to the floor, creating a sound that echoed through the store. It was almost as loud as fireworks on holiday nights, and he knew for a fact that if there were any zombies in the vicinity, he had just placed a huge target right onto his own back.

The zombie, which had originally been content to munch on the piece of bloodied foil between its hands, looked up at First Aid with what could only be described as the most empty stare the young doctor had ever seen. They both stood still for a few brief seconds, each one staring back at the other with an unspoken question: why the hell had First Aid been so reckless?

The zombie shot up straight, reminding First Aid with horror that the poor creatures weren’t always as slow as they appeared to be, and gave a guttural snarl before lunging for the terrified doctor. First Aid hissed out a frantic curse under his breath before whipping around and bolting for the exit. He was on the far end of the store, unfortunately, but if he took a few precise turns, he would have no trouble at all making it out—

All at once, First Aid came to a screeching halt. His body slammed into the barricaded door, shattered windows haphazardly covered by sheets of plastic and thin, blistering wooden boards. No, no no no no. He’d taken the wrong turn! The open exit was the other way, and now he was trapped, and the zombie was coming closer, and—

“Shit,” he sobbed, desperately searching the nearby area for a weapon, for anything.

From behind, the zombie lumbered closer, having slowed down measurably after it realized First Aid was trapped. The act made him question whether or not the zombies were as insentient as the world had made them out to be. It seemed all too twisted, being hunted down as prey, only for the predator to stalk him with visible excitement. With no other choice, and no weapon in sight, First Aid squeezed his eyes shut and held up his hands, awaiting the fatal attack. He’d lasted a while, after all, and he had done so with very little violence. Maybe, somewhere out there, someone could carry on his legacy—

His dreadful thoughts and anticipation of impending doom were cut short by a sickening crunch, and First Aid opened his eyes just enough to see the zombie inches from his face, the sharp end of a fence post sticking out from its gaping mouth. Rotten flesh and sticky pus dripped from the wound, but still the creature twitched and writhed against the post, its jaws jerking as if to close down on the offending metal.

First Aid watched with mild disgust as the fence post was drawn out, only to be driven right back in, the sharp end now sticking out from between two gaping eye sockets. This time, instead of reacting like a bloodthirsty monster, the zombie’s movements became sluggish and few until it finally collapsed at First Aid’s feet and fell still.

“Hi.”

First Aid jerked back, a panicked cry escaping him. He threw his hands up in preparation of an attack, but when it finally registered just who he was fighting against, he relaxed. It was Vortex, one of the people who lived at the huge farm on the outskirts of town. He lived with the Combaticons, as they called themselves. Fitting name for someone who had just driven a post through a zombie’s head, First Aid thought to himself.

“Hi,” he echoed, one hand scratched nervously at the back of his neck. He looked down at the zombie, then gave it a little kick with his foot. “Er… thanks.”

First Aid watched quietly as Vortex retrieved his weapon of choice, one foot braced against the zombie’s torn up back as he yanked the post free. It seemed so easy, barely a sound of effort being made as Vortex easily slid it out. It was like watching a knife slice through butter, and First Aid couldn’t help but fear such strength.

“Say,” Vortex said, leaning against the bloody fence post as though they were neighbors discussing gardening tips. “What’s a helpless nurse like yourself doing out here all alone?”

“I’m not a nurse,” First Aid mumbled, crossing his arms around his chest in a self-conscious manner.

One look at Vortex had him wondering the same about the other; they were about the same size after all. Same height and everything. But seeing as Vortex had just taken out a zombie in a few fell swipes, First Aid had a feeling he was underestimating the Combaticon’s power.

“Supply run,” he explained, holding up the back slung over one shoulder. He was lucky it hadn’t been lost in the rush. “There’s, uh… other survivors. Hiding the old church building.”

“Huh,” Vortex said, scratching his chin. “Didn’t think they’d make it that far. How many?”

“A few,” First Aid said. “Not many, just… enough, though. There’s only a few of us.”

“Right,” Vortex nodded. He bit his bottom lip and looked around, as if searching for a way to extend the conversation. “So…”

“So,” First Aid repeated. “I… guess I’ll be on my way, then.”

“Oh, really?” Vortex asked, his expression faltering. “I kinda thought—well, I kinda thought… actually, never mind. I’ll, uh, see you around?”

“Yeah,” First Aid said. He watched Vortex leave with a careful eye, his grip on the bag over his shoulder tightening. “I’ll see you around.”

****

Gonna stop there because I need to finish baking apple dumplings, but this would go a little something like this to keep to the AU description you’ve already written: First Aid does see Vortex again. At least… he thinks so? It’s a little hard to tell behind all the makeshift battle armor, but he can make out one—no, no it’s two, or… or maybe three—? Before he can even finish that thought, he’s being grabbed from behind and thrown into a… a horse carriage? Either way, he can still see, he’s not even bound that tightly, and all of sudden Vortex is popping up next to him, babbling on with the biggest grin about how he convinced his family to bring First Aid in and that all the other survivors can come, too, and… yeah, I’m sure you get the picture. Anyway, I hope this brings you joy.

This is really interesting! It makes me want to write more for the AU now. Like a horrific feedback loop of writing

Everyone read this

#first aid #vortex #transformers #hungry tag #zombie au

[charmixpower]

Daphne brain rot just hit me so:

Post resurrection Daphne needs a cane for a while

Both her and Bloom get really agressive really quickly without noticing, though this is diminished after her death

Daphne has brown hair or orange hair, she's not blonde ahhh

Nymphix takes many years to achieve, so Daphne is in her mid to late twenties....she's the youngest to ever achieve it

Daphne was kinda bull headed when she was alive, agressively pushing to be put on missions while still in school. This was a good thing in the long run. Daphne's ambitious nature was the reason she was a Nymph and why Bloom is still alive

She was also a bit of a party girl, and very reckless. Her brand of fun loving and loving determined is why so many fairies followed her on the trial of nymphood despite how hard it was

Daphne's magic has been keeping her and Bloom alive for a couple hundred years, and it slowly waneing on her. She only released Bloom from stasis when it was finally safe enough in the universe for the girl not to be instantly mobbed and thrown into a power stuggle

When her physical form is restored she can't use much magic as by that point she had been digging into her internal source, irreversiblely damnaging it

She can no longer transformation but she has enough magic to use a flaming sword...and she does. If she can't be a badass nymph anymore, she's gonna be a badass swords women

She's a maladaptive daydreamer as she didn't have much to do while under a lake

Very protective of Bloom but kinda in a cool detached way, due to the fact that Bloom is far more powerful than her at this point

Kinda of an idealist in the Paragon way. She loved recklessly, she protected recklessly, she was dedicated to love of the world

Really chills out while being incorporeal bc all she can do is think and sleep

Very affectionate and hated the fact that she couldn't hug Bloom for most of her life, the moment she has a physical form is the moment Bloom is being crushed in a hug

Generally very amused when other people worry about her, esp after she's lost her magic

Dislikes it when people pity her. Mostly because as far as she's conserned, she won

(Bloom is alive, Domino is restored, the ancestral witches are dead, Daphne played the long game and fucking owned)

Misses the other Nymphs a lot

Daphne is fucking tall, there is a reason she looms in her ghost form and is always drawn huge compared to the other Nymphs...it's bc she's tall as hell...that's my hc

Once she gets her hands on something pointy that she can use she very politely asks Bloom's specialist friends to spar with her :) the guys realize how this woman became the youngest nymph ever

#winx club #winx daphne #rus chatters #winx season 5 #winx headcanons #is this canon to my rewrite? #bout half of it

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

For the fic title ask:

Life Beneath Eternity Dwelling in the Apocalypse Curse of Honor

This is going to be in three parts so here’s the first one

Life Beneath Eternity

I would write this with Dogma dying on Umbara and becoming a ghost. He can’t move on; something is stopping him so he just follows Tup around.

Tup who is his last batchmate and who can’t fathom Dogma being gone.

Even despite Fives trying to help him move on, Tup has become more distant. Angrier. Different than the person he used to be.

Dogma can’t do much but watch. He meets Cutup, Hevy and Droidbait who has been following Fives around. When he asks for Echo, Hevy squeezes his shoulder and says, “he’s not dead yet.”

They show him where Echo is at and Dogma knows in his heart Fives wouldn’t stand to allow that unless he didn’t know.

Dogma is angry. Scared. Lonely. But he made the right choice once on Umbara before he died and he’ll do it again.

So he decides to find a way to communicate with the living world.

Droidbait says it won’t work. They tried. But they don’t know Dogma. Dogma can’t leave Tup alone, watch him become something he’s not. He needs to help. He needs to do something.

He’s unsuccessful at first, barely passing off as a cold spot or a flickering light.

But he improves. To the point where the Domino batch tries to follow his lead.

Soon, more Vod who have passed start to join Dogma, showing up when they see this young Vod who shouldn’t have sent off to war so young do the impossible.

He gets a message sent out. Tup doesn’t notice it.

Tup doesn’t notice any of his messages. But Fives does.

Fives looks into the Citadel. Fives looks into the small information about the Separatists.

Fives goes to Rex who trusts him and takes his word. The war turns into their favor.

Tup becomes crueler, ruthless. He’s quickly becoming one of the most efficient soldiers in the 501st but he’s losing his humanity.

Fives tries to talk to him but when he finds Echo, it becomes harder.

Echo survives. He gets better. He still wants to go with the Bad Batch and so Fives makes a decision and leaves with him.

Tup is alone. He has Kix and Jesse but it’s not the same.

He won’t acknowledge the messages Dogma sends.

So Dogma is forced to communicate to other Vod.

He talks to Rex and Cody, to some of the Jedi. He got freaked out when Yoda was able to see him but to have an actual conversation eased his fears.

He learned about the Coruscant Guard and helped facilitate a check in for Fox. Secrets were learned.

The blackout missions.

The leaked information.

The chips.

It all leads to a head. Dogma tries to find the Sith.

The Sith who somehow found out about the meddling little ghost. He trapped Dogma who shouted to the Vod’e that the Sith is a traitor. The Sith is an enemy. The Sith is the Chancellor.

No one could hear him.

Tup’s chip still broke.

Fives wasn’t there to tackle him, to knock some sense back into him. Dogma wasn’t there, stuck as he was in the Sith trap.

Tup was deemed a traitor. His ruthlessness didn’t help his case, nor did the campaign on Umbara where his batchmate was known to kill a Jedi. He was sentenced to death.

Dogma tries to escape, tries to do anything to warn the Vod’e. Luckily for him, many Vod were searching for him to tell him about Tup.

Dogma was the one to start the communications but it was the Domino squad who truly helped save the Republic. They find Dogma and before they could be trapped as well, Hevy distracted the Sith so Droidbait and Cutup could tell the Jedi.

The Jedi listened. The Jedi learned. The Jedi fought.

It was brutal to watch. Almost hopeless as many Jedi were unprepared for Sidious’ attacks. But they won eventually.

Anakin siding with Mace who helped him keep his focus on what’s important.

The war trickled to an end.

Tup still laid in prison, forgotten about due to the fight. He’s delirious and sick, the chip rotting in his brain.

Fives and Echo rush back home after the news went out of Tup’s action and Rex tried to find which cell he was in. Not even Commander Fox knew where the trooper was.

Dogma laid by his batchmate’s side, listening to his vod’s uneven breathing, as his hand passes through his hair, trying and failing to bring comfort.

The war is over but there is always a cost.

Dogma rests his head next to Tup and waits.

#star wars #tcw #the clone wars #clone wars #clone trooper dogma #clone trooper tup #commander fox #commander cody #captain rex #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #this somehow went sad #I’m sorry #angst #ghosts

[illmamnim]

[Domino meme]

I like when people draw Scar Minecraft themed wheelchairs -> -> -> merman scar

I had a whole design process during work hours because I was brain rotting really hard.

I really want to make... Something with this.

I love mermaids.

#mermaids are like... my whole thing. i have to draw more mermaids... #also world building #mix both of them with my blorbo and BOOM #instant brain rot. #mcyt #tinstuff #hermitcraft #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #doodles