Tumgik
#(and even when it is! but especially when it isn't)
nyancrimew · 1 day
Text
you can all stop tagging me in the "amazon is leaking government documents 😱😱😱" post,
i am aware, google dorking like that (that's what the technique is called, it's fun, go learn more about it beyond a spongebob meme) is literally how most of my career started
amazon isn't leaking anything, that's incredibly misleading, these documents are leaking the way they are because a lot of customers don't properly configure their aws set up, this is not amazons fault or liability
most of the documents you will find that way are meant to be publicly available, for example everything on "imlive.s3.amazonaws.com" is for display on the government's contract bidding site, 99.9% of what's there is knowingly made public (a few years ago i downloaded over 2 terrabytes of that data and found like two documents of interest, neither were indexed by google), lots of other documents are public due to foia requests or other processes
please please please go have fun with google dorking (including that amazon dork) but i hate that sensationalist misleading meme, especially since it makes it out to be some sort of new discovery or bug, people have been doing this for decades and you can properly learn how to have even more fun with it when given the knowledge i now gave you and then slowly learn how to build your own interesting queries
5K notes · View notes
dunmeshistash · 2 days
Text
Something I really appreciate in Dungeon Meshi is how much "restraint" Ryoko Kui shows when telling this story. It's so clearly crafted to be the best story it can be.
By that I mean how she had SO MUCH world building for this story but still kept it as contained as it needed to be, it's a story about a few characters inside one dungeon, even if the world is expansive the story isn't. And even with the amount of characters she clearly loves so much she never got side tracked as I see so many other mangas get. The world is alive, other people exist fully with their own lives, but it stays true to the story that's being told in this universe.
I think it really shines through with how the world building relevant to the story is slowly shown to us in a non expository way, that's also something I see a lot, especially in movies, just stopping everything on it's tracks so they can info dump about the world to you, but in dungeon meshi its all so organic... magic is explained because some characters are ignorant, cultural differences are shown through cultural clashes, world history is implied through relevant conversation (monster facts are info-dumped to us but even that is in character) it's all really good and I don't think I could have gotten this into it if everything was just laid out in front of me right away.
This is all to say I'm glad we have the adventurer's bible and all this extra content that didn't fit into the story but I'm glad they weren't forced into it in detriment to the storytelling.
1K notes · View notes
emacrow · 1 day
Text
Alfred gains an unique apprentice after his arm got fractured.
Most of the batfam has been causing a ruckus in the Wayne Manor for the past 4 months that even Alfred was feeling a bit worn out.
To the point that his personal favorite market friends suggest getting a trainee, or a ward to help him out epecially because Alfred isn't getting any younger, no matter how well he took care of his own health.
Helda got herself a ward herself, a sweet little girl, name Ellen who help her keep the lil Duckling candles shop in order especially after her hip surgery went through, and will be taking over for her considering helda had no descendents, but Ellen make her feel young again.
Alfred merely delined, but ended up getting the card still by persistented friends. A card with a purple GrandFather clock symbol and a number on it. He left it in his draw as he was not rude enough to throw away.
Then came the prank war 13 on June 15th in the Wayne Manor that Alfred accidentally ended up being targeted by pure coincidence which ended with him with a fractured arm..
Both Bruce and Alfred was majorly disappointed with how far escalated the prank war went that got immediately stop when the batfam saw Alfred gotten injured during it.
Except now Alfred is stuck for 6-10 weeks without using his right arm until his personal doctor said it ok to take the cast off then have a arm sling..
Alfred was immensely stubborn for 3 days, 3 days of trying to do all his duties.. before he gave in..
And called the number on the card, and received a lovely blue letter with a couple of oddly specific paperwork on a type of help he need, what is your age, your job occupied, have any illness or arthritis, needs in case of meta or superpower sudden surprises appear, how dangerous is your and your family lifestyle, etc
By the time he finished the paperwork and hand it sent back in the return blue letter. It was by day 5 on a Friday when he received a letter back, stating that that a ward been selected and will be coming from Amity Park to help him.
Alfred was expected a teenager, but a 7 year old boy with blaring light blue eyes, starlight like freckles, black hair with a medium space designed suitcase and a very old and worn out bearbert plush on top of it.
"Good morning, You must be Mr. Pennyworth, and I'm Danny." Danny beamed a soft smile with the eyes of wisdom and understanding. Alfred pause for a mere second before a soft smile bloomed and open the door wide for him.
"Hello there Danny, do come in. Alfred said softly as he watch danny a bit with curiosity.
Would you like a snack before we start the day?" Alfred ask as he escorted danny to the kitchen to help him with today breakfast along with a list of the breakfast dishes with ingredients.
"That ok, what would you like to help you do, cut the vegetables, stir the pot, help lift the food into the oven, or clean the dishes, because you aren't going to try and do that all with a broken arm, right?" Danny said as he look at today breakfast list, going to the sink and cleaning his hand thoroughly first before touching any fresh ingredients already put out while Alfred pick the frying pans, cups, dishes and utensils for the batfam.
Alfred notice right away that danny was floating a bit to pick the heavy large pot full of marinated food from the fridge that was supposed to be on the stove for slow brothing for later today dinner, considering alfred couldn't well take it out himself since his arm was broken..
Smiling softly to himself that it was a good idea to have a ward of his own as he teaches danny the best techniques to make a Benedict.
567 notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 21 hours
Text
Birthday II
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: It's your first birthday
Tumblr media
Morsa is living in the phone again.
She's a lot smaller when she lives in the phone than when she lives with you and Momma. You think that's kind of weird but there's some cake sitting in front of you so you don't dwell on it for too long.
Today is a special day apparently.
Today is the day that Morsa is supposed to be visiting. It's your birthday too but you're more focused on the first thing rather than the fact that you're getting older now.
Morsa is meant to be coming today but she isn't here yet and now she's stuck in the phone again.
"And here's the birthday girl," Momma says to her," She's about to enjoy her cake."
You look down at your slice of cake. You don't get given cake a lot, especially not fancy cake that has writing and pictures on the top. You don't really care about the stuff on top but you know the cake is fancy because it's there.
You grab a chunk of cake in your fist and raised it to your mouth.
It tastes really nice and you grab more.
"Birthday girl looks very happy," Morsa comments," Is that right? Are you enjoying your cake, princesse?"
You grunt as you shove cake into your mouth.
"She's very much enjoying it," Momma agrees," Birthday girl got spoiled a lot today."
"I'm glad. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
A match late last evening had Magda unable to fly out yesterday night. She'd booked an early morning flight today, hoping that it meant she could still spend your first birthday with you without missing much.
But she'd gotten to the airport and found her plane delayed. There was no eta and it kept getting pushed back further and further to the point where Magda has to spend your birthday on the phone rather than in person.
The presents in her carry-on feel like weights as she watches you shovel more and more cake into your mouth until your plate is empty.
You're sitting up in your high chair with a beaming smile in a tiny Wolfsburg kit that Magda knows was given as a present to you. A big birthday badge is clipped to the jersey and a discarded birthday hat is sat on the tray next to your now empty cake plate.
It makes her heart ache thinking about how much of this she's missing.
It's just not the same seeing it all through a phone screen.
"My flight should be taking off in a few hours," She tells Pernille as you entertain yourself by picking up the birthday hat and shaking it," I'll probably get to yours around midnight."
She can't see Pernille with the camera on you but Magda's sure she's frowning.
"We can pick you up from the airport," She says," You don't need to get here on your own."
"It'll be too late for Princesse. She still needs sleep."
"Are you sure? I don't mind. She'll fall asleep in the car anyway."
"I'm sure," Magda insists," It's fine. I've got keys. I'll let myself in."
You drop the birthday hat and pout.
"Oh," Pernille chuckles," What's with the long face, princesse? Did you drop your hat?"
You kick your legs impatiently and point at it, whining. You look like you're about to whine more but Pernille places another slice of cake in front of you and suddenly you're distracted again.
You cram as much cake possible into your mouth, smearing your face with crumbs.
The cake is nice but you do feel a little bit cheated. Momma woke you up this morning saying that Morsa would be here to celebrate with you both but it's rapidly approaching bath and bedtime and she's nowhere to be seen.
That's a little mean of her.
It's even meaner of Momma to put you down in your crib and make you sleep before Morsa got here. They're both quite mean today even though it's your birthday and people should be nice to you when it's your birthday.
You wake up the next day ready to let your displeasure at being lied to known to Momma when she comes to grab you.
You don't get the chance to though because someone lifts you out of your crib with a smile and a soft voice.
"What's with the pouty face?" Morsa coos," Is being a one year old really that bad?"
For a moment, in your sleepy haze, you don't recognise her, a big pout and a grumpy look upon your features. Slowly, you blink awake fully and your pout morphs into a big happy smile.
"There she is," Morsa says," There's my happy baby! Look at you, my happy little one year old."
Your legs kick out as Morsa presses soft, ticklish kisses all over your face.
"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, princesse but I brought presents!"
You know that word. After yesterday, you've decided that you really like presents.
You hope Morsa's brought you some good ones.
You giggle.
"Yeah?" Morsa says," You like that? I've got lots of presents for you to open!"
466 notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 2 days
Note
little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…
sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)
hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡
Tumblr media
in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.
that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.
you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.
it seemed easy enough for rafe though.
he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.
rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.
rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.
until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.
"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."
"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.
"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"
you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.
crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.
but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.
rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.
he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.
"wasn't feeling good. came home."
"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?
"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.
"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."
"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.
rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.
the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.
"you okay?"
"yeah. fine. you okay?"
if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.
"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.
"no, it was too short."
"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.
"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."
"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"
fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.
"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.
your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.
in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.
"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"
you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.
rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.
"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"
"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"
"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"
"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."
yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.
"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."
"rafe, i-"
"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.
"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.
"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."
"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."
"it's hard enough to be mean to you."
"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."
"no problem, kid."
"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.
Tumblr media
745 notes · View notes
a-b-riddle · 10 hours
Text
You're not her...
I've been seeing a good bit of fics where the reader is left for another woman and people around them are encouraging it. While I do love a good angst, I would simply pass away. Your girl, Riddle, is weak.
Especially if it's my baby boy Simon.... I can't. I love the idea, but as someone who is an absolute crybaby, I wouldn't survive being reader...
So what if that happened to nurse reader's partner left them for a fellow recruit and when everyone starts being like "good for him", the 141 isn't having any of it?
The others on base seemed honestly happy that your heart had absolutely been broken. I mean, you weren't exactly around him as much as she was. You couldn't see the undeniable chemistry there was. You had tried to put on a brave face. But when John had come in for some ointment for a burn and you were falling apart, he gathered up his boys.
Something needed to be done. A point to prove not just to you or your ex or that woman who had chosen to pursue a very much taken man, but to the hold damn unit. Your ex didn't leave you because there was someone else. He left you because he didn't deserve you in the first place.
In hand to hand, Johnny doesn't hold back. Not only does your ex absolutely get his ass handed to him on the mat over and over again, but does it in front of his new girl and everyone else. How embarrassing. Doesn't exactly help that Kyle is on the sidelines talking so much shit that she begins to get the ick. I mean, could he not honestly win one match? Wonder what that says about a man who can't even hold his own? It even gets cringier when your ex tries to place the blame on the drills from yesterday with a certain Ghost.
Simon is already hard as a lieutenant. But add in the factor that the recruit he currently has running drills is the same recruit who hurt his favorite little nurse? The boy would be lucky to crawl out of there. The second an exercise or drill is not made to absolute perfection, Simon has him running it all over again. It almost
John is already starting the transfer papers the first time he catches your eyes the least bit misty. You don't have to see that rubbish and since the prick and slag couldn't have the decency to wait until he had broken up with you properly instead of telling you that even though he was with you, he had fallen for another woman, then they'll be sent to completely different units. John lists the reason for transfer as a liability. If they were so proud of their "love" before, let them keep that same energy.
And Kyle.... Sweet shit talkin' Kyle. Who plants seeds around the entire base. Nowhere are these two lovebird safe from judgment. All of the female recruits have ostracized their fellow female soldier while receiving lewd looks and calls from the males. I mean if she was easy enough to fuck a taken man, then she must be an easy lay. And here comes Kyle, telling your ex 'man-to-man' about seeing his girl with other officers. Kyle is the most gentle when it comes to the 141. But the motherfucker knows a thing or two about psychological warfare.
After your ex and the girl are suddenly, very mysteriously sent elsewhere, everyone starts flocking to you. Offering reassurances on what a bullet you dodged. How, from what they heard, they had broken up shortly after being relocated to separate bases. The boys see your confidence creep back in. Your smile is a little brighter. A little more pep in your step.
You wouldn't tell anyone how your ex had e-mailed you. Complaining about the new base. Explaining how he had ended things and just wanted you back. How he regretted ever letting her get to him, as if she were the only one at fault for kindling the relationship.
It also didn't help that a certain member of the 141 had come by your station, wondering if you wanted to grab a drink when you were off of your shift.
404 notes · View notes
lovifie · 1 day
Text
141 Task Force Men and what piece of clothing they would steal.
(No smutty, just these fine gentlemen being little rats that steal your clothes)
Price💸
First of all, he would steal everything.
Especially if you lived together.
"What do you mean I can't grab your jacket to go buy some bread? Bla, bla, bla. I'll be back before you miss it."
"Oh, these are your socks? I was wondering when I had bought such bright colour ones."
"Why are you wearing my raincoat, John?" "Excuse me? Is mine!" "No, it's not!!"
In his mind, if he is planning to share his life with you, it simply makes sense for him to share everything else.
But there is something he is stealing over everything else, and those are booty shorts.
My man is overheating in this global warmed world, and he is looking on his closest for some shorts when he stumbles upon your booty shorts.
They are ridiculously short, basically legalized underwear he can wear outside; but this is the coolest he has felt since summer started, so he isn't stopping.
After all, who is going to tell the military captain what to wear?
Plus, when you wake up in the morning you are greeted by him in the kitchen making coffee and booty shorts with "juicy" written on them.
Extra: The two of you have an extensive collection of hats, that he technically doesn't steal from because it's shared.
Extra x2: He owns the "Woman want me, Fish fear me."
Ghost 💀
Your sweaters
It all started the first night he went to your house.
He was wearing a leather jacket, and although he looked illegally hot; it was obvious it was not the comfiest jacket to be chilling ii.
So you offered him your fave sweater, a massive one that could almost work as a blanket.
At first, he rejects your offer, afraid that it will be itchy and he will offend you; but his complaints get shut when you ask him to please feel it.
Instantly tries it own, the massive sweater looking loose on his as well. The image of the behemoth of a man, all black, balaclava (no mask) still on... And the fluffiest sweater on melting your heart.
The next time he visited your house he didn't even wait for you to open the door before taking his jacket off: "....can I put on your sweater?"
They are kind of his guilty pleasure, he would never admit how much he likes them and even less to other person but you.
But you only need to see how he buries himself on the sweater when he sits down on the sofa.
If he was amazing to cuddle with before, now it's even better.
Extra: I also like to think of him having a random ear piercing, and whenever he wears just the surgical mask or no mask in general; he would steal one of your dangling earrings to wear. Playing with it throughout the whole night out.
Soap 🧼
Baby tees
Every single one of them.
He keeps saying they make their muscles look amazing (they do)
He likes the ones with drawings or photos, but his favourites are the ones with texts.
Cue to him wearing tight ass shirts saying such as: "Small tits, big heart", "I got my clit pierced at Claire's" or "Don't bully me, I'll cum :("
You don't even remember why you bought them, mostly they are gifts from Secret Santa but you are so, so glad they found their way to your closet.
He wears them proudly, not even realising the stares.
When you go online shopping he's always cuddling on your side, leaving one of your arms useless with the way he cuddles it.
If he sees a tee he likes he just makes you stop scrolling and add it to the basket like: "It'll look good in you too."
There is also a small collection of them, the ones you genuinely like that don't let him wear. Not after he put one on, started flexing his arms and back and ripped it.
Just staring at you with guilt on his eyes and his tits out.
Gaz ⛽
Your shirts.
The ugliest, most colourful, eye-sore, extravagant shirt that you might own? He's taking them.
You are cleaning your closet one day and you pull out an offense to your eyes, mumbling about what where you thinking when you bought it and Gaz sees it and is like: °o°
He's taking it.
Getting ready for a costume party, you decide to dress up as Master Roshi from Dragon Ball (fake beard and everything) but you are missing the ugly shirt.
You remember seeing it not too long ago in your closet but you can't find it. So you ask your boyfriend.
And you find him wearing it, spraying cologne on telling you that he is also going out with his mates and asking how do you look.
Little shit does pull it off, so you don't lie when you tell him he looks fantastic.
You still have plenty of ugly shirts for your costume.
Extra: He would steal all your jewerly, rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. Just little bits all over his outfit; "It signs the deal, babe." They do.
Tumblr media
Extra x2: He is always waiting for somebody to compliment any of your things he is wearing to have an excuse to talk about you, Soap is tired of hearing him mumble about you whenever he drinks.
@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z  
@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212
@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock  
@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk
@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat  
@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw
@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting
@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708
@katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129
@idk-justkane @shanhalen @mikaronn @thatoneslvt @crinoid90
414 notes · View notes
cemeterything · 1 day
Note
must know ur thoughts on chilchuck tims if you care to share them. he is so so interesting 2 me i need to like ??? trap him in a controlled environment and take ten pages of notes on his behavior
chilchuck!!! chilcharles. mr tims. i have soooooo many thoughts about him; i think he's got so much depth worth exploring in spite of being less of a focal character for much of the story. i also think it's both very funny and a little frustrating how often people take him at face value. which isn't to say that it doesn't make sense, because he works pretty hard to try to convince you to do so. but he's so much more complex than he makes himself out to be. the impression i got from him is that he's definitely been hurt in some extremely deep-cutting, personal ways in the past - not even necessarily by any particular individual, but definitely by the common misconceptions about half-foots based on their stature. endure enough discrimination, and you're not going to be placing your trust in anyone very easily, or allowing yourself to get too attached, especially when that discrimination focuses on how vulnerable and powerless you are comparatively. chilchuck denies his attachment to his friends and loved ones because it scares him; because he knows how easily it can be used against him. he's had no choice but to harden his heart because it's the only way to get people to take him seriously. he can't just drop his guard and let himself relax, no matter how nice and well-intentioned his companions may seem - those good intentions can do just as much, if not more, harm to him and his reputation. he has to have dignity, and if that means misrepresenting himself as a mean, hateful, bitter person who hurts others if they get too close to him, then better that than suffering the humiliation of helplessness again, or realising that he's been taken advantage of for all he's worth. he needs to prove to everyone how capable and self-reliant he is, so that he doesn't risk having that independence stripped from him. so he denies himself, and avoids personal questions, and acts tough, and lashes out. and then the touden party sees right through him, and they stay. they learn to respect his boundaries even if they don't always entirely understand them. they leave the door open for him. and eventually, with much coaxing and false starts and two-steps-forward-one-step-back hesitation, chilchuck allows himself to step across the threshold and open his heart to his desire to be loved again. which doesn't personally affect me in any kind of way because i have nothing at all wrong with me whatsoever.
465 notes · View notes
psychotrenny · 2 days
Text
Like when are all of Biden's idiot fans gonna realise that he is not the "lesser evil". They love threatening people with how any opposition to Biden is gonna let Trump win and how Trumps gonna do all these awful things to the US as though said awful things aren't already happening under Biden. Increased border militarisation and deportation of migrants, loss of reproductive rights, legal assaults on the existence of gay and transgender people, corporate malpractice, police brutality etc etc. Like they're not just continuing to happen they've actually gotten worse under Biden than they were under the Orange Satan himself. The only substantial difference between them is foreign policy and in that area Biden is actually even bloodthirsty; in particular he's been an especially bad zionist for his entire political career and there's nothing to indicate that Trump would have somehow handled it worse beyond the mindless truism of "Orange Man Bad". Looking at their actual policies, voting for Joe Biden isn't gonna protect anyone within the US and is arguably more dangerous for the rest of the world (i.e. where the majority of the world's population lives). There is no "harm reduction" here.
If you're actually looking to help create a better world and protect vulnerable people, as opposed to feeling good that you helped the blue team win, then you're going to have to do it through avenues beyond voting for Joe. Vote third party, withhold your vote to pressure the democrats into nominating a better candidate, engage in action beyond electoralism; there are plenty of options out there. And they're all more effective than lecturing people on the computer (most of whom don't even live in your country they're just part of your empire and so forced to follow the politics) about how being mean to Biden makes you functionally a fascist or whatever
406 notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 3 days
Text
DCxDP Fic Idea: New Management
It starts off small, in controlled, barely noticeable areas of Gotham.
Over days, the litter and trash vanish, the sidewalks are washed and cleaned, and even building yards long since abandoned are trimmed. No one notices at first because Gotham is so used to ignoring how dirty everything is until Poison Ivy makes a public announcement thanking the person who cleaned up Gotham's parks.
You know, while she was tearing up that one street with her vine monster.
After the Bats had her locked away pending a trial, they stopped to look around and realized, yes, someone had been cleaning house. No one really knows who, but things have started to change. Streetlights are replaced, graffiti is painted over, and cracked windows are fixed. It's a nice thought, but all this had the gangs up in arms, especially when their tagging disappeared.
To control the goodie-two-shoes, a few gangs burn down a few local parks- mostly the ones near or around Crime Alley- and they also loot the smaller businesses. It's a warning that the mystery housekeeper should be reminded of their station, but- well, it's all for nothing because, like magic, the following night, the damage is repaired and somehow better than before.
What's crazy is the water change. Everyone notices that right away.
Gotham's water system was just as corrupted and descriptive as its class system. If you were one of the elites- your water was clean and crisp- if you were one of the poor- your water was practically tar with how contaminated it was. Anyone in between got a fifty-fifty chance of drinkable water, depending on what side of the city they lived on.
It became an identifier, really. Depending on how often you were seen at stores buying bottled water, people could tell how well off your family was.
That's why, on a random Wednesday, Gotham lost their collective mind that the entire water system was fixed. Regardless of class, every household had clear, scent-free water from the tabs.
The few who wandered outside trying to figure out what in the world was happening were left stunned at the sight of Gotham's surrounding bodies of water.
They were clean.
All the rivers, the harbors, the silly little fountains found around Old Gotham- everything. It was safe to swim in them now. That was just wrong.
"What's happening?" Jason growls, crouching at one of Wayne Manor's main windows. His eyes are barely visible over the edge, allowing him to peek out into the yard, but he must not be fully visible, lest he become a target.
"I don't know," Tim hisses, taking a similar position on the second floor. He grips the communicator with a white-knuckle grip, trying his best to ground himself. "I just don't know. There are no witnesses, no evidence, no clues whatsoever on who's doing this to the city!"
"I don't like this!"
"No one does, Jason," Bruce intervenes; the accompanying sound of keys typing is familiar background noise. He's still in the cave, attempting to run through all reports of horrified Gothamites on social media, trying to find a pattern. "Babs? Do you have any new updates?"
"No!" She hisses, her typing sounding far more aggressive. "I can't find anything on those responsible. Nothing on the internet, nothing on public camera feeds, and nothing on rumors through dark web chats. It's like I'm trying to track a ghost!"
"This isn't natural, B," Steph cuts in. She's hiding in her bedroom closet, voice low in case her mom hears. After they realize some new lunatic is running loose in Gotham, her mom calls her back home to barricade them. If they had a bomb shelter, they would have been in it long ago.
"It's worse than we think," Duke huffs. He's somewhere near the top floor, having chosen a higher vantage point, hoping his meta powers would spot someone coming towards the manor. "I think I see glimpses of blue in the sky. If this continues at this rate, we'll have a clear blue sky in about two hours."
Multiple gasps of horror are heard throughout the communication lines. Bruce starts to type faster, barking orders for everyone to remain where they are and not go gather information. They had no idea what they were dealing with.
Damian stands with a confused Cass, Dick, and Alfred. The only bats not originated from Gotham, so while they can claim to have years in the city, none of them truly know. "I do not understand. Is this not beneficial to Gotham?"
"It may be too much at once, Master Damian." The Bulter tells him carefully. He only speaks that slowly when Alfred thinks of every word before saying it. "Whoever is behind this must not be from Gotham. If they were, they know that people would lose their collective minds upon the improvements."
"But who could be responsible?" Cass asks, watching Jason duck and army crawl to a new window once some sunlight manages to break through the clouds where he was originally hiding.
"I wish I knew Miss Cass."
Meanwhile, Danny Fenton leans back in his computer chair in a dimension of hope and a skip away. He laces his fingers together, bending them until satisfying cracks are heard. It was a productive hour of work, but he thinks now that his virtual city had cleaner water, his NPCs should start healing and developing better.
He was suspicious of Madam Gotham—a new ghost that appeared within his territory of the Ghost Zone—but after a quick conversation, he decided to befriend her. Danny is glad he did, seeing as she was in danger of fading away. Her core had suffered severe damage due to denying her obsession for so long.
Danny could do nothing for her. Madam Gotham needed professional help that only certain Yetis could offer. Although the Yetis usually turned away anyone not of their kind, with Danny backing her up, they had been willing to take in Madam Gotham.
She had been stubborn, though, refusing to get help because she was too busy playing her silly little game. The computer she played it on was unique to her realm and could not withstand the cold temeture of the Far Frozen. Danny was literally watching her melt—a horrific reminder of Dani and her siblings' disabling—before he could take it anymore.
Only after agreeing to watch her video game did she decide to be moved to the Far Frozen to receive medical treatment. Now, Danny never really liked those farming simulator games, but this was different in the sense that the city was already there.
His job was to further develop the city into a utopia. It was interesting to learn what modern issues the city had and how he could make decisions based on point costs on what to fix.
He gained points from making his citizens happier, supporting the Bats—the city's defenders—or choosing to develop options that significantly raised the value of his city.
It was rather addicting, really. He could see how Madam Gotham got so sucked in, even though it didn't really have much action for him to make. Mostly, he would let his citizens react to his new choices and use his points to delete trash and gunk.
There were some side quests he liked to work on, too, like helping certain citizens with drug addiction, depression, anxiety, or anger issues. Danny has no idea why Madam Gotham allowed so many to develop so badly, so every day, he would give them all one good luck point to brighten their days.
He had three full tabs of characters, a brief explanation of their lives, and whatever issues Danny could make them go through. He would tackle the number of homeless youth next by fixing up the city's affordable housing and infrastructure.
It was a bit narcissistic of Madam Gotham to name her game town "Gotham City," but it's better than any name Danny could have come up with.
479 notes · View notes
cheriladycl01 · 23 hours
Text
I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader
Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…
Credit to micksradio
Tumblr media
It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?
You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.
For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.
Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.
You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.
Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.
You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then
"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.
"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.
Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world
You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.
You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.
Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.
I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me
One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.
"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.
"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.
"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.
"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.
"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.
You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.
Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!
But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.
Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.
And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.
I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know
"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.
He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.
"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.
He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.
But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong
The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.
He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.
It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.
And god you loved him for those attributes.
You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day
He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.
But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.
He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.
And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.
He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.
You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.
Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.
But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.
And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.
But ... now wasn't the right time.
You would always take your Whiskey neat.
And Lando ...
Well.
He was far too sweet.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
342 notes · View notes
razberrypuck · 1 day
Text
something about kinger being in the circus "the longest" and him still openly caring about the other members and striving to be kind to them makes me emotional actually.
like yes the scene where he comforts ragatha but also the "pomni, take this" scenes. putting a bucket on ragatha's head after jax's licorice-hair comment -- said in front of a monster that eats candy people. winning rock-paper-scissors and being so excited to get to help zooble. remarking "oh, thank GOD you're okay," when zooble gets ejected from the gloink queen. he can be a great source of comfort in his moments of lucidity, but even when he's not quite there, he really does try his best to protect his friends -- even if his efforts come across as goofy or nonsensical.
I find it especially interesting that these moments are really the only times he actively involves himself in the adventures. yes he makes a few comments here and there, but when he isn't trying to help someone, he tends to just let things happen around him. he's largely absent in most of episode one (mostly because he seems to be freaking out about his own safety -- and granted, we don't know whether or not he was just having an especially bad day, but I think it's worth noting) and he doesn't get involved with the adventure at all until he's told to find zooble. he's also shown to be very observant of the people around him, like how he accurately predicted that kaufmo had completely lost it, when no one else picked up on the signs.
more than anything, though, I think kinger's conversation with ragatha shows some of his philosophy when it comes to the other players. "it's a lot for anybody to go through; don't take it too personally," is likely a learned sentiment -- and consciously or not, I think he doesn't have any bad blood with the other members (see: kinger being the only one (from what we've seen so far) that jax doesn't actively torment) because he understands why they act the way they do and doesn't hold it against them. everyone copes differently, and like I said before, he's very observant, especially when it comes to the emotions of others.
and idk. I just think it's nice the longest standing member of the circus didn't survive this long by learning not to care.
348 notes · View notes
mirohlayo · 23 hours
Note
🍓❝ you know i love and care about you, right? ❞ with lando <3
LET ME SHOW YOU
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
( maybe you're insecure, but that will never bother Lando, since it's a way to remind you how much he loves you. )
warning : insecurities, fluff
word count : 1.1k
You're not the type to be jealous or insecure. Especially not about your boyfriend. You trust him with all your heart, you can never blame him for anything because he is simply perfect. Adorable and perfect.
And yet, here you are in this situation. It had become usual for everyone now, to see Lando alongside beautiful models. Pretty women, with perfect and angelic faces, elegant posture and careful gestures. Even more so when he was partying.
You didn't see any problem with it. Since after all, Lando always made you feel like the most beautiful woman, Lando always reassured you that he only had eyes for you. And you know, you can't deny a fact that is true.
But seeing him constantly surrounded by these models was perhaps something that saddened you today. So, you locked yourself in your hotel room, while Lando continued to test the car on the track. He asked you about your health, if you were okay, but you just said you were tired.
Sometimes you would glance at Instagram, instantly regretting opening the app the second different posts of Lando alongside these girls popped up. You couldn't stand this.
It's probably toxic and unhealthy, but you can't help but feel insecure. After all, who wouldn't want a rich and handsome Formula 1 driver? Especially when that meme man is a lovable personality.
The day passed slowly. You heard the distant sound of the Formula 1 engines, thinking of Lando who was driving one of them. You regretted the moment he returned to the hotel. You didn't want to appear so weak and insecure in front of him, knowing that this isn't the first time you've talked about it.
But yet, despite your complexes, despite the fact that you felt apart, Lando was always there to comfort you about your relationship.
“Hello, sweetheart.” The day is over, since you yourself are surprised to see Lando standing in front of you. You try as best you can to come back to reality, giving your lover a weak smile. “Ooh my baby, I missed you so much”. His body collapses onto yours, as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck.
You delicately stroke his curly hair, while he snuggles a little closer to you. “I missed you too, Lan.” “Of course you missed me, you stayed at the hotel all day.” A silence settles in, you didn't really know what to answer. You didn't want to tell him about your insecurities.
"Sorry. I don't like leaving you alone on the track." He lifts his head slightly, just enough for his eyes to meet yours. "Don't apologize, baby. You needed some rest." His lips press against yours, gently, delicately.
You already feel better, just from this simple kiss. It's unfair the way he manages to console you, to comfort you just by his simple presence. "I've been thinking about you all day. Even when I was in the car." His voice is muffled since his face is still hidden in the crook of your neck.
Still, it makes you smile. “You can’t do without me Lando.” You giggle slowly, while you feel a smile appear on his face. "Absolutely, I'm obsessed with you. Maybe a little too much... Fuck, I love you so much princess." A soft laugh escapes his throat as his arms wrap a little tighter around you.
But these words are enough to make you cry. Of joy, of sadness? You don't really know, but on the other hand you know that Lando's sincerity is the source of your tears. Because even without being aware of your insecurities, he manages to make them go away. To chase them away.
He always knew how to make you feel special and unique, make you feel his. Through his words and actions, he always showed only love and tenderness towards you. And even without talking about your problems, he manages to solve them with a snap of his fingers, thanks to his way of showing his affection.
Your wet tears fall on his hair, running down his neck. He senses that something is wrong, and suddenly raises his head to look at you. His face falls as he searches your face and your gaze for an answer.
"Oh my baby. Why are you crying?" He sweeps the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, cupping your face in the process. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your sobs. His lips place soft, long kisses on your face, while he gives you time to find your words.
“Take your time, princess. I’m here with you, I won’t leave.” You smile weakly at him as your tears fall once again. "I know it's childish, Lan but-" "Hey, don't ever say that again. Your problems aren't childish, you have the right to feel how you feel." He cuts you off, an expression of displeasure displayed on his face.
You nod slowly, sniffling otherwise. "I'm just... it annoys me a little to see you surrounded by pretty girls and models. I know we've talked about this before and it's something I need to work on with myself... “He encourages you to continue, gently caressing your cheeks.
"But I still feel a little insecure about it. I know you love me and I trust you, but sometimes it makes me insecure. I'm just afraid you'll find someone better than me." Lando's lips seem to curl down, to the point where his face resembles that of a puppy.
“Oh my baby girl.” He doesn't wait a second before kissing you languorously, his hands anchored on your cheeks, caressing them ever so gently. He pulls back, a soothing smile plastered on his lips. "How could I find anyone better than you? You are the very definition of the girl of my dreams."
You can't help but roll your eyes as a smile takes over. Which makes Lando smile more. “I only have you in my thoughts, my dreams and my heart. Only you my girl”. He kisses you lightly again, not being able to stop himself from smiling.
His eyes admire you as if you were the most beautiful thing on earth. Which is totally the case for him. “You know I love and care about you, right?” He leans down again to kiss the tip of your nose, as you nod eagerly. “I love you so much, Lan. I’m so in love with you.” You can only say these words in a low whisper.
His eyes crinkle into another smile, a most affectionate smile. “Then let me show you how much I am in love with you too, pretty girl”. And without further ado, he doesn't hesitate to cover your entire face with thousands and thousands of kisses.
385 notes · View notes
Text
charlie being alone for so long she isn't used to anyone sharing space with her anymore
(who isn't a flying demon plushy anyway) (her dad keeps forgetting WHERE she even lives now even after the third time telling him-)
vaggie moving in and maybe getting bumped into and utterly steamrollered by accident a few times, several times, fairly often actually- much to charlie's distress and vaggie's amusement (getting smacked in the face by a pretty demon lady's chest wasn't the worst thing) (charlie fussing over her afterwards was also not terrible)
until her hair grew out long enough that charlie had the PERFECT excuse for giving her the ribbon
(is nice looks preddy) (charlie wants vaggie to have alllll the nice things) (matches with vaggie's prettiness) (that's not an opinion that's up for debate vaggie, hush)
...the ribbon, which totally isn't also a safety feature, absolutely doesn't make it easier for charlie to spot her gf before the potential Squish, definitely doesn't act in the same capacity as lucifer's top hat did for lilith (tol demon ladies have their struggles too) (especially when the angels they keep picking are Tiny)
this secret agenda is still not as secret as the OTHER reason charlie gives vaggie the hair ribbon
(maybe NOW vaggie will finally get rid of the horrible old bandages charlie first patched her up with the day they met or at least stop carrying them around and playing with them) (of course vaggie should do whatever makes her happy forever but charlie does NOT like remembering her being hurt)
vaggie gets the hint and keeps the bandages in the nightstand drawer on her side of the bed instead
(her sore back scars plus the increasing snuggles means she sleeps draped over charlie's chest most nights anyway now, and doesn't need the excuse of getting run over to have charlie hug and fuss over her anymore)
oh no. the stupid idea is growing on me
173 notes · View notes
thegnomelord · 3 days
Note
I have had a thought.
What if dragons purr when you rub their horns..
Dragon!Price x Gaz and/or Nikolai,,,
Hehdhehehe
Hmmm, I don't usually write character x character but i'll give it a try so tell me if this sucks lol
CW: SFW, Price x Gaz, horn rubbing, purring, monster cod au, soft short and sweet. 1224 words.
Kyle is a good soldier. Strong. Competent. Reliable. Though the fears of losing him on every mission still linger, they're eased by the fact that Price never has to worry that his sergeant will stumble in those crucial moments when a second of hesitation can be the difference between life and death. Never has to worry that his Gaz will think of himself as expendable and rush into the hailstorm of bullets. . .
Kyle is also a menace.
Especially when he's perched on his desk and giving John the most pathetic puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. "Please, captain, just one time?" The imp of a harpy even has the gall to flutter his eyes, looking at him through his lashes because he knows how the light of the setting sun hits his eyes juuuust right to make the brown glitter like gold and amber jewels.
"Kyle." Price stresses. This really isn't the time to indulge his sergeant's need for mischief when he's got a week's worth of backlogged paperwork to go through.
"Sir." Kyle throws his tone back at him, but the way the word rolls off his tongue and he adds the smallest chirp to the end of it makes something inside him stir. "Come on mate, I promise it'll only take five minutes." Kyle's wings spread out so he can display the shininess of his feathers - peacocking transcends species it seems - the mundane dark color turned to that of rich obsidian by the sun.
"It never takes just 'five minutes'." He tries to argue, but the usual commanding rumble in his voice is gone. Price knows he's fighting a losing battle from the way his fingers itch for him to burry them into the smooth feathers and preen Kyle's wings until his treasure croons.
Kyle knows this. He's unable to hide the arrogant look in his eyes when he bites his bottom lip and leans back, muscles tensing, because he knows how such a display of his body will make John's eyes automatically roam across his hard earned muscles. "Pretty please." Kyle says, tail feathers gently twitching side to side.
Both of them know Price never stood a chance.
"That was dirty." John sighs, dejected by his own weakness. The distance between them is small, but Price purposely takes slow steps. Kyle eagerly scoots back on the desk and spreads his legs for John to fit between, hands raising to hold his biceps as Price braces his palms against the desk next to Kyle's hips.
Kyle snorts. "As if you've never stooped lower cap." He spreads his wings to wrap around Price, soft feathered wing wrists bumping against his back.
John just growls lowly in response. He doesn't resist his body's natural desire to reciprocate, to reaffirm the claim over his hoard. The atrophied muscles on his right side still ache with phantom pain after all this time, but that doesn't stop him from wrapping his one remaining wing around Kyle. The combination of their wings acts as a shroud from the rest of the world, soft feathers brushing against his green scales and their scents mixing together.
Price treasures these little moments.
The peace only lasts for a few seconds before Kyle ruins it with a grin. "Now come on, give me your horns." He says, not even bothering for Price to tilt his head before Kyle's clever fingers rise up his arms to cup his face, inching closer to where his horns grow out of his skull.
Price promises to himself to hunt down and shoot whichever wanker posted the '101 ways to make a dragon purr like a kitty' on the internet. Ever since Kyle found that blasted instruction manual he's been trying to go through the entire list to verify the information. Price had seen the article in question and had nearly choked when he'd read that the author thought pulling on a dragon's tail could get them any other reaction than an immediate bisection—
Kyle's impatient fingers still just enough to gently scratch the bumpy base of his scalp around the horns. It tingles, and Price isn't able to tell if the tingling sensation is of the good kind or a bad. A small sound rolls from his throat, but that doesn't satisfy Kyle.
"Come on John, sing for me." Kyle repeats the words Price tells him when he's preening him, voice light and just at the edge of taunting. Keeping one hand around his base, Kyle slides the palm of his other hand up the hard bone until he reaches the natural curve of Price's horn. He squeezes gently and moves his hand like he's jerking him off.
"O-oh." Price is grateful he's bracing against the desk because his legs go weak. The sensation of his palm and the pressure of his hand is neither good nor bad, just unfiltered feeling that his brain can't even begin to handle, so it shoots it down his spine like lightning. The buzz of sensation catches on every vertebra and makes his wing quiver, forces his tail to wag like he's some lost puppy.
"Not what I was expecting." Kyle confesses. Price can't see the surprise and wonder on his face as John's eyes close automatically. His head tips forward to rest his forehead on Gaz's chest, brawny biceps tensing to just support his weight and claws digging into the desk with enough force to tear through the wood.
Kyle moves his hands so he's holding Price's horns in both hands. The pale green horns are smooth under his palms besides the occasional scratch or chip in them. Kyle moves his hands with slowly and methodically, changing the pressure he uses on every stroke and paying special attention to the sharp tips of his horns.
That's all it takes to turn John's chest into an geriatric engine. Price manages to groan and mumble a curse under his breath before the only sound leaving his lips is the deep baritone purr. There's no way of stopping it; If Price was in a better mind he would question why the gentle stroking of his horns has him feeling like a puddle of goo but his brain is completely fried from the sensation.
Kyle has heard him purr before but this is different. All the other times his purrs would always be throaty and quiet. Now it feels like the sound is coming straight from the bottom of his chest and, fuck, Kyle can feel it, feel the rumble shake his ribs and the desk beneath him. The sound is loud and unpolished and so raw Gaz feels naked just hearing it.
Kyle can feel his heard beating a mile a minute, his surprise making his hands still just long enough for Price to look up at him. Kyle could die happy after seeing how fucked out Price looks — pupils dilated to the size of plates, panting, red faced, so open and unguarded. Comfortable. With him.
"You've been holding out on me John." Kyle smiles softly, starting to stroke his horns again.
Price purrs even louder, his tail curling around Kyle's leg, managing to pull the claws of one hand from the desk to grip Kyle's thigh and pull him closer, draconic hind-brain desperately seeking to get more of that gluttonous pleasure from Kyle's hands.
Safe to say they take longer than five minutes.
160 notes · View notes
xiao-come-home · 3 days
Note
I love reading your random Boothill thoughts 🥲. Especially the one where he is a dad. Do you think he is a girl dad or boy dad?
Ahhh thank you! Ik you sent it before his story was leaked but man was this spot on 🫠 here’s some dad!boothill hc with reader because im starving
Warning: mentions of pregnant reader and all that jazz, SPOILERS FOR BOOTHILLS STORY.
Tumblr media
I FELT IN MY BONES he was a girl dad before it was revealed to be canon! Boothill gives so much girl dad vibes it’s immaculate. He’d love to pick out pink clothes for his daughter, pink shoes, ponies and other plushies! Or rather, he loved.
That’s until you happened to get pregnant shortly before he left for his surgery. He came back a few weeks later with his new body, but no one was home. A small gift bag sat on the table, waiting for him; Boothill opened the bag and grabbed a piece of long paper, a black and white picture. A small bean present in the middle; the back of the picture held a tiny caption, that read: “I’m only a few weeks old. I can’t wait to meet you, daddy.”
Even though the wound was still fresh and open, since not long has passed since the incident on his planet - Boothill began to feel bitter determination to give his baby the best life they could ever have; this time, a life that wouldn’t see its end so fast.
Boothill is very interested in your pregnancy! He’s sometimes unable to go to every appointment (whether be it the ipc who are hunting him, or the opposite), but he knows he can’t mess it up. Not again. He’s always holding your hand when you have an ultrasound scan, glaring at the doctor and making sure they don’t hurt you or the baby, and giving your tummy so. many. kisses. He assists you in the bath, just talking to you can keeping you company, since water, cords and a pregnant human aren’t a good combo. He wants you to tell him everything.
That’s when you finally tell Boothill that you’ll have a baby girl - his mechanic heart shatters and swells with love at the same time; it’s such a strange feeling, that makes the cowboy feel a little guilty. Both of you fall silent, until Boothill makes a move and closes the distance between you, smiling sadly at you and softly caressing your stomach with his hand, “I’ll treasure her forever.”
There are days when Boothill truly feels like the hole in his heart cannot be healed after your first daughter, but he knows she’d love to have a little sister. Yet he’s here, now a cyborg and the only memory of her is just one, lonely picture. He makes sure to never let her existence fade away by telling your round tummy that he’ll love them both until the end.
On a happier note, Boothill is just. Such a good dad, but also a chaotic one sometimes, especially if your daughter inherits her dad’s personality. They’re doing everything together - if she wants to have her hair braided, he does so, and lets her braid his (even if his hair gets so tangled at first, to the point he has to cut it 😭), good god! He loves her so much and always hugs her so tightly when she runs up to him after she notices her dad is back home.
Boothill just loves hearing her little giggles and always makes her laugh! Sometimes he tickles her so much she throws her plushies at him.
Boothill wants all her milestones to be forever preserved. He has tons of pictures of her, a few photo albums - it’s never enough. He’s so proud when she says her first word, when she takes her first steps by herself, her first drawing for him (even if she drew it on the fridge with a black marker), her first birthday. He wants to give her everything she could ever have.
Boothill might've cried the night when his little baby drew him a family portrait - with you, herself, her daddy and older sister. He's injected in her every possible good memory about her, and she never fails to appreciate her older sister even if she isn't there, knowing her dad still loves her just as much.
When Boothill’s little princess cancels the weekly tea party he’s always attended, it’s HIM who feels sad about and pouty about it.
Boothill buys his daughter tons of different hats! They’re always carefully picked and he makes sure she likes them waiting for her approval, but most of the time she wants to just wear his. She doesn’t care she’s drowning in it, it’s the best because it’s Boothill’s hat.
Even though Boothill never mentioned her anything about playing guitar, one day she started to play him a tiny bit of song she learned at school - although clumsily and due to stress, Boothill listened to her and threw her in the air in happiness when she finished - he knew it was your job and couldn’t be more thankful. Once again, he made yet another guitar in his life - this time to finally listen to his little one’s music and teach her many, many other songs they’d later play and sing together.
Oh god, when Boothill’s daughter announced her “boyfriend” she met at daycare, he just stared at her with wide eyes. This is also an instance where he cried that night and you had to calm him down. Later on he insisted to be the one to take her to daycare, and gently threatened the said toddler, “look, stinker. Don’t ya dare GET NEAR ma lil’ angel, or else.” This was his last visit without your supervision. And also, your daughter just laughed at him and left… so yeah, plan failed successfully, I guess?
Mandatory naps with daddy after daycare. Well, Boothill only pretends to sleep when she looks at him - but once she falls asleep on his chest, he looks at her with so much love, gently resting on his chest and stroking her hair, that was just like his and adoring her tiny face, that he thought was the most perfect mix of you and him. Boothill shushes you with his finger quietly, when you ungraciously enter your home. A content smile appears on his lips when you give him and your daughter an apologetic kiss on their foreheads, still hearing her snoozing tenderly.
352 notes · View notes