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riot-ghost · 6 months

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Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

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bullagit · 8 months

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due to personal reasons i am now firmly on team “i hope aziraphale does change heaven for the better actually (going on the assumption that his return is as straightforward as it seemed etc”

like if the alternative is just this ohhh he’s so NAIVE and SOFT and so WRONG and he’ll have to LEARN A TOUGH LESSON etc etc nonsense then yeah 1000% go for it babe knock it out of the park

i hope choosing hope and kindness pays dividends. i hope the soft traits that made other characters continually disparage and underestimate him and his intelligence turn out to be his greatest assets bc i kinda don’t give a shit about a “toughen up it’s the only way everyone else knows better” life lesson for this character

(which like honestly a lot of the rhetoric is dismissive of the fact that persistent goodness in the face of an existence of disparagement takes great strength and that at the end of the day aziraphale has always been able to stand up in his own way)

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #aziraphale #aziraphale IS in fact a dark horse #he is consistently dismissed and underestimated and overlooked bc of how he presents himself!#even crowley does this with him (not in any sort of malicious way its a sense of protectiveness)#(i am not here to get into how aziraphale n crowley treat each other in ways that are unintentionally hurtful id be here forever lmao)#the point is that aziraphale is smart and tbh he knows more about how shitty heavens treatment has been the past few thousand year??#since he's. he's been the one getting treated badly. that whole time.#anyway theyre both right theyre both wrong and end of the day i just.#i hate the concept of a s3 that equates softness and kindness with being wrong and naive and dumb etc #it does not feel very good omens to me idk man #so i hope that's not where it goes

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puppyeared · 8 months

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fake ep idea + doodles

#i was thinking abt how funny it would be if there was a shiftythrifting blog equivalent in lmk. and half the stuff on there is #submitted by wukong. so i thought a yard sale ep would be funny lol #basically the hoard becomes problem one way or another and wukong figures the best way to get rid of his junk is thru ebay #somehow ends up selling world ending artifacts to random megapolis citizens so mk mei and redson have to scramble to find em #purposely meant to mirror the weekly shenanigans s1-2 style eps that are really goofy (dumpling ep noodles ep etc)#but it gets darker and darker because MK is not fucking ok after that whole thing with the scroll and some unchecked identity crisis #for me id want him to kind of. freak tf out because they have to find MULTIPLE chaos inducing items that could end the world while trying t #be sillygoofy and funny about it. so hes trying to mask his panic with “ohhh guys its just like the good ol days ^_^ remember that ^_^”#ESPECIALLY after that whole thing with the ink scroll. also mei doesnt buy any of it and is worried for him the whole time #as for the B plot it could be monkey king also trying to be very relaxed abt selling 4000 years worth of stuff and tang getting all huffy #like “these are priceless artifacts that could help us learn so much about the past!! wtf man!!!”#and maybe it reveals smth like wukong not wanting to hold on anymore bc his past weighs him down. and theyre all reminders #i think azure mentioned that wukong is sentimental (idk if that was genuine or lying to mk) so that could be touched on to #so basically. the theme would be some sort of conversation abt nostalgia. i think. im not a writer so its very fuzzy in my head #if anyone wants to add on or include their own spin on it feel free. also included undercut redson as a treat somewhere in there #myart #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk red son #lmk mei #lmk MK #lmk xiaotian #lmk xiaojiao #lmk sun wukong #lmk swk #doodles #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk traffic light trio #yard sale ep

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clown-eating-pig · 2 months

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I was telling my little sister about Gertrude Robinson the other day and she said something that kind of made my brain explode. I was explaining all of the terrible things that Gertrude did in the name of saving the world and how, on the opposite side, Jon avoided doing a lot of terrible things but ended up dooming the world anyways. She responded with the classic, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

And idk it just really struck me. Bc, between Jon and Gertrude, which of them had better intentions? Which one of them ended up in hell?? Crazy crazy crazy to me bc I’m pretty sure it could apply equally to both of them.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #gertrude robinson #tma spoilers #sorry if this doesn’t make any sense #but I genuinely had to just like #pause #when she said that bc I was like…..damn #bc Gertrude was the one doing all the terrible stuff with the good goal of the world not ending #so you COULD say that she’s the one that ended up in hell #but Jon literally damned the world to eternal torment sooooo #idk #I suppose the argument could be made that it applies to both of them equally #the motto of the archivist so to speak #but who knows

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rozugold · 1 year

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I thought about Michael_B for just a tad too long…

#dream smp #Dream smp fanart #michael underscore beloved #c!tubbo #c!ranboo #rozoodles #look i just thought ‘hey would’nt it be nice if Michael was a painter?’#and then felt soft over the fact that he wouldn’t have to fight any wars because his fathers already did (and this is a good timeline)#but Tubbo would want him to know how to fight just in case (he’d also be the one to give Michael the totem)#idk man I just got brain worms about them all of the sudden #the end au

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dazais-guardian-angel · 8 months

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Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

#bungou stray dogs #seriously call me a clown and point and laugh at me if I'm proven wrong all you want #but I really feel like there's solid evidence for this #either s5 isn't gonna reach 109 at all (but I seriously cannot fathom where you would want to stop before then) or they'll go beyond it #if they really do end it with 109....... well i'll give Bones kudos for having the balls to do that ig lol #maybe i'm underestimating (overestimating???) them idk #also just to clarify I don't wanna make it sound like I think Asagiri let the anime/Bones dictate the manga's pacing #like I'm sure these were his/their (him and Harukawa's) own decisions first and foremost #not that (if this theory is true) the anime had a major impact on how the chapters were split and that it-#-would have been extremely different otherwise #i'm pretty confident in that Asagiri does not do anything with BSD he isn't comfortable with #and he doesn't let anyone tell him how to write his story #I just feel like he worked with Bones to make this near-simultaneous release happen #BUT if this is the case I don't feel like it had any major effect on the writing/final product that is the manga #like the last handful of chapters have been so incredible #so I at least am still perfectly happy lol #(i mean i'm devastated and a nervous wreck but u know 🫡 in a good way lmao)#anyway 110 in two days please let this theory be true because I need some fucking hope already #please let Oda show up as Dazai's guardian angel to help (see what I did there-)#it would be the perfect way to end the collective season that is 4/5 with s4 beginning with Oda and now ending with Oda #Asagiri are you reading me are you picking up what I'm putting down please please a ghost Oda is long overdue please-#Oda Verlaine Adam just GIVE ME SOMEONE ALREADY 😭😭😭#MAYBE EVEN A TASTE OF THE FYODOR BACKSTORY TO TIE INTO HIM BEING IN ANIME UNTOLD ORIGINS. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

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sukibenders · 2 months

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When it comes to Penelope I feel like a lot of her fans take any valid criticism towards her and turn it into hate, which does her character a disservice. While some people do hate on her, a lot of it holds valid reasons. Admitting that she has hurt many people isn't wrong because she has, it's been shown on throughout the show and the impacts it can have. From labeling Daphne as "unmarriageable" during her first season and events that followed, her labeling Eloise as being part of a group of rebels, the terms she used to describe Kate [and Simon]-- which carried racial undertones no matter how you try to spin it, who didn't even know personally at that point, what she did Marina. All of these were very harmful and to say that none of these characters should feel angry, that they should just forgive Penelope without any work put into it is very laughable (especially because she's still writing as Whistledown and put many, namely women, at risk during a time where reputation is everything--something in which Penelope herself faces). With this being said, criticizing her actions, at least for me, doesn't come from a complete place of hate but more so from believing that she can be better if she puts in the work. By ignoring all that she's done and having her get her happily ever after so easily in the end, to be honest, would ultimately feel lackluster. I feel like she still has room to grow, but it will take a lot of work and, I personally, think seeing her renavigate who she is with who she wants to be outside of Lady Whistledown would be very interesting.

#bridgerton #penelope featherington #idk if this counts as anti but I'll label it as such too #anti penelope featherington #bc some people don't see it her referring to kate as a “beast” was wrong as hell and definitely side eye worthy coming from this yte woman #like she didn't even know kate and wrote that about her #and her ableist comments towards george were absolutely unnecessary as well #so deny that none of these things holds impact would be highly untrue and make the story very flat #i do think pen provides valuable insight to a different perspective of the ton and was helpful in eloise seeing a different view #so that's one [of very few] reasons that i think she should have a chance of redeeming herself #but that also doesn't mean that any of these characters should forgive her either #penelope stans and/or polin stans do not interact if you can't be respectful!#(also bc some people like to say “but the bridgertons are privileged and got their happy endings”#one just bc they got their happy endings in the end doesn't mean that what pen wrote didn't put them in difficult situations or that she #should be thanked as if she helped them [with daphne that was mainly her and her own mother's doing]#[for eloise that different bc it puts her and her family under political scrutiny as well bc do you honestly think being labeled as associat #-ing with rebels would be a good thing?]

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hiyyihrts · 1 month

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I’ve only recently got into the bridgerton fandom side of things but making an entire blog about how much you hate one ship/character is actually kinda crazy and obsessive 😭 if you don’t care about them or don’t even like the show bc of them why keep entertaining it and talking about it… maybe unclench and log off for a bit idk

#bridgerton #like idk if I don’t like smth I’m not gonna make my entire personality online about how much I hate them #aren’t y’all exhausted or what #maybe take a break from being online and go outside and realize… it’s all fiction and not reality #you don’t have to entertain it if you truly don’t care or don’t want to no one is holding a gun to your head man 😭#this goes for any bridgerton ship tbh bc some of y’all sound insane #also… media literacy ain’t there anymore #y’all think every character has to be 100% good with no faults or very few faults in order to like them #but all characters in bridgerton have their faults and morally grey areas #and some are worse than others #but it’s all fiction at the end of the day #polin #saphne #kanthony

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kyurochurro · 1 year

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💚💍💛 married zosan because IN MY HEAD. they end up married OKAY

#churro art #my art #doodles #one piece #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan #also just because couples growing old together and getting married is one of my fav tropes ☹️#y’all know the old versions oda drew idk when #where there’s the good and bad timeline LMFAO #well idk I saw them and I thought OHHH WHST IF THEY WERE LIKE THIS TOGETHER AND MARRIED😭😭😭😭😭#they still fight and squabble very much but of course it’s all with Love yeas ❤️#like just imagine them fighting like they do but it’s in their kitchen or in their living room😭😭😭#and whatever dumb squabble they have they just smile at each other in the end IM SICK 💔#if u have any head cannons about how they would be married please please Please PLS Share them #crying dying sighing. instead of brain there is zosan

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vlasdygoth · 3 months

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just kiss already

#mgs #ocelhira #id in alt text #kind of shoving them together like the wrong ends of a magnet #i love it when they desperately want to kiss but don't want to cross that unspoken line and yet!!#idk. i watched the nice guys today so im feeling the 70s sleaze #if anyone has any like 70s movie recs lmk. or like good period piece spy movies #or books. or anything #doesnt have to be gay but Must be homoerotic #kazuhira miller #revolver ocelot

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piosplayhouse · 1 year

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I still stand by the draft ramble I posted about how scum villain's characters are remarkably easy to love and incredibly beginner-friendly especially if you're new to xianxia/wuxia content! Sqq's narration is essentially like he's one of your Tumblr mutuals who's been in a hyperfixation for way too long that he knows everything and can't help but explain it in excruciating detail every time he gets the chance

#and he's so good for it #svsss #idk if other people had this experience but i feel like when i first read i thought sv was such an easy read because if you forget things #sqq is there with the plot details and the rundown of events coming up! he even spoils the ending even though it doesnt go how he thinks it #will lol #it was a very stark contrast with wwx who has no idea whats going on at any point or who anyone is #wwx voice what was your name again...

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zeb-z · 5 months

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“Red team was so selfish looking past the cursed team like that” listen man they were thinking about it often, and had evidence they were cursed too. They were convinced they were cursed too. Bad (with Pierre’s help I’ll be honest) singlehandedly destroyed any sort of civil relations and good faith between the two teams and this shot Blue in the foot when they tried to make the case about them being cursed last minute, about trying to rig it in the cursed teams favor.

There was never a cursed team in the first place, it was all a tactic to build paranoia and that feeling of betrayal and to get them to tear eachother a part. And it worked super well! At the end, neither would listen to the other about their evidence, not with an honest open ear, not with the willingness to think the other team could be cursed. It’s not a case of ‘Red just refused to listen because they wanted to win more than they cared’ they thought they were cursed too - if they were selfish, then so were Blue in the same way.

Every time Red had tried to talk first early on, it was met with extreme violence - and with Bad consistently proving he’ll play dirty to win, they didn’t trust Blue enough to listen to them in the later game. Maybe they should have listened then. Maybe Blue have listened earlier. The game worked as intended to set them against eachother.

#link is to another post I made back when they were debating about the cursed teams in purgatory and why red couldn’t trust blue and blue #couldn’t believe red. they were both stuck #and bless Tubbo he tried. he did try. but he was just as convinced he was right as Phil at the end. it was about convincing one another #more than it was about coming together and piecing together the evidence. yknow what I mean? they all cared about it but because of tension #and they also could not trust blue. which sucks because that’s hardly Tubbo’s fault but yknow #I dunno. it’s not simple like that. it’s not a case of red blowing it off being selfish not caring. they also thought they were cursed #AGAIN I’ll say it again bad burning bridges fucked a lot of them over for when diplomacy had to win because there could not be benefit of #the doubt or good faith or any sort of trust #it’s not just cut and dry red wanted to win more or blue wanted to win more. it was complicated and had way more factors #red thought they were cursed too!! they had solid evidence for this too!!#and like. again it’s a case of both parties kinda suck purgatory sucked it was always going to be like that because the game worked as #intended #idk. blue should have listened to red early on. red should have listened to blue later on. they were never going to do that on either side #idk from Tina’s pov it’s understandable why she said what she said. but knowing the others pov and what actually went down that’s not what #happened at all yknow?#they’re all gonna be feeling the effects of ‘we killed and betrayed eachother for two weeks’ for a while to come #mcyt #qsmp #qsmp purgatory #z speaks

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thecryptidzenith · 13 days

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how much do we wanna bet that Kipperlilly was at the Ashgrove Cemetery mourning a parent when she found the rogue teacher?

#i'm just saying #we know there are Parallels #and what the fuck else is a girl like kipperlilly doing at a cemetery before the first day of her junior year?#the rogue teacher found her #she found her student grieving on the first day of school #and she did what any good teacher would do #do you think it hurt kipperlilly to turn in that paperwork? to turn the kindness shown to her into an academic weapon?#why does she have to be so perfect?#is it because she knows where she'll end up if she isn't?#she cares a lot about fairness #what's more unfair to than death?#ankarna was a goddess of justice and of anger #do you think kipperlilly has a strange connection to that?#maybe in the same way a goblin detective may have a strange connection to a goddess of mystery?#is this anything? idk honestly #i'm probably wrong #but if i'm not...#d20 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #fhjy #fantasy high junior year #kipperlilly copperkettle

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wreckedandpolemic · 10 months

Text

yours - george daniel

(mdni) thank you anon for this request i had a SPECTACULAR time with this i hope i did it justice!!

warnings: 18+, semi-public unprotected sex, degradation, praise, jealousy, bratting, slight exhibitionism

It starts the way it always does: teasing. You don’t think you've taken your eyes off George once since he left your side, always ready with a smirk or sly wink when he catches your gaze. He’s talking to some indie darling or other, a pretty girl, really, but you can see her hand practically white-knuckling his bicep from across the room. She smiles too big and laughs too hard and you hate her, just a little bit. You can’t stop her — you have no reason to. George isn’t yours, not really. The two of you fuck. It’s not exclusive, there’s no strings, but you’re starting to realise you might have let him in one too many times, let him jam something in the door to your heart; you can’t lock it back up when he leaves anymore.

George locks eyes with you, expression pleading, and you suppress a victorious grin and delicately lift a shoulder in his direction. This is a game you play; he loves it when you get jealous, though neither of you would admit it. You want him all to yourself, want to march over there and prise that girl’s fingers off him, demand that he never so much as look at another girl. But that would be losing, which you’re not in the habit of, so you swallow your bitter fury and wash it down with a long sip of sweet wine, staring intensely at him over the rim of your glass. The girl goes on tiptoes to whisper something to him, and he stoops low to listen, two blonde heads bending together conspiratorially. Worse, he laughs in response, not a polite, awkward chuckle, but a genuine laugh. And he doesn’t look back at you afterwards.

You drain the rest of your wine and set the glass back on the table with a too-loud thud. Making your excuses to the director? producer? you’ve been chatting with, you stroll across the room, feigned casualness becoming harder to maintain with every step. The self-congratulatory smirk on his face as you approach is aggravating. He’s won and he knows it.

“Well, hello, love. I was wondering when I’d get to chat to you,” he says, hugging you from the side and letting his hand linger low on your waist for just a moment longer than he should. “Was starting to think you were avoiding me,” he adds, voice heavy with meaning, dripping with the unsaid.

“You know I can’t keep away from you for too long,” you grin, trailing a finger down his chest. It’s hot in here, his shirt unbuttoned as much as it’s acceptable, giving you the tiniest preview of the toned chest you know so well. The other girl hasn’t said a word, but she’s still lingering, her presence an unwelcome stain on the moment blossoming around the two of you, both curbing your tongues for her benefit. “Come on, I need a refill. We can catch up at the bar.” You phrase it like a suggestion, but he knows from the way your nails dig into his arm through his suit jacket that it’s a command. He leads you away and you shoot the girl a warning glare as you go for good measure.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs low in your ear, splaying a hand at your waist. The warmth of his palm radiates through you, some Pavlovian response to the simple feel of his fingers on your skin making you suppress a shudder.

“Thank you, darling. I guess you’re alright,” you tease. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine, you’re fucking gorgeous.” You wander over to the bar, and you let him order for the pair of you. He knows what you like, anyway. Probably better than any man on Earth.

You still keep your eyes averted, though, because you knows as soon as you meet his eyes, he’ll say, “You really didn’t want me talking to her, huh?”

You roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, please. You were begging me to get rid of her. Besides, tiny, pretty little thing like her? She couldn’t have handled you.” You shrug. The bartender sets two glasses of wine in front of you, one red, one white, and he takes a long sip before replying.

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll never know, now. You dragged me out of there before I could even get her name.” Smug satisfaction courses through you — you’ve got your claws firmly hooked into him, at least for tonight. You bite back the reply of ‘Good. Forget her. Forget them all,’ that springs to your lips. You’re cool, you remind yourself. You’re relaxed and chill, and you can do casual. You’re not that cliché girl who falls in love with her fuckbuddy.

He runs a finger along the edge of your jaw, dipping down to play with your necklace. “My eyes are up here, darling,” you tell him, his warm hands nauseatingly close to your traitorous, beating heart. It thuds harder, calling out to him. You pray he can’t tell that if he wanted to crack your ribs, reach in and pluck your heart from its place in your chest, that you would let him. You wouldn’t even resist.

“I know what I’m looking at,” he says. “God, you can see everything through this dress.” He raises his other hand, knuckles grazing your nipple accidentally-on-purpose, and tucks a flyaway piece of hair behind your ear.

You swallow a moan, leaning close enough to him that his breath ghosts on your face. He tilts your chin up with a thumb, parting his lips in expectation. “You’re a fucking cock-tease bitch,” you murmur with a scowl, startling him into a laugh; that endearing, high pitched cackle that shakes his shoulders near-violently. “Where the fuck do you get off, flirting with her just to piss me off? Touching me like that in public?”

One of his hands glides down to the thigh-high slit in your dress, thumbing over the skin there. Electricity races from the point his fingers touch your skin, so close to where you want them and yet miles and miles away. “You wanna play, baby? Let’s play,” you breathe, gripping his neck and crashing your lips together. It’s harsh, messy, an explosion of lips and teeth and tongues sliding together. You pull back, biting hard at his lower lip just to feel the flesh tear beneath your teeth. To leave your mark on him so that when he kisses the next girl, the sting reminds him of you.

“You’re fucking wild,” he hisses, tongue flicking over your bite mark.

You shrug. “Don’t piss me off next time.” You pat his chest and lean past him to pick up your wine glass, brushing deliberately against him. “Come find me when you’re ready to get out of here. And you’re not gonna like what I do if you try it on with one more bitch in front of my face,” you promise, turning your back to him and taking a few calculated steps away before throwing him a glance over your shoulder.

“Oh, and George? Can I tell you a secret? I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He freezes and you give a self-satisfied grin. Your victory is short-lived, though, his hand shooting out to catch you by the wrist as you try to walk away. He tugs you back towards him, and you obey easily. There was never any question that you would, really. “You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he hisses in your ear. “Come with me,” he orders, keeping your wrist in a vice-like grip as he drags you out of the room. He doesn’t look at you once the whole time he stalks down the corridor, the only sound your heels clicking against the tile as you struggle to keep pace with him.

George crowds you into a bathroom, attacking your lips the moment the door slams closed. You barely register the quiet click of the lock, letting him flip you so your back is against the door and pin your arms above your head. The second he frees your mouth you moan, trying to squirm away from his lips against your neck and collarbones, but he holds you fast. He dips his head into the valley between your breasts, licking at the skin there. “I love your fucking tits,” he says, mouthing wetly over the fabric that covers your nipple.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sigh, voice full of false bravado that can’t cover how weak his touch makes you. “Get on with it, or people are going to notice we’re missing,”

“Greedy girl,” George chastises, but his eyes shine with want and his hard cock presses against you through his trousers. He steps back, and your whole body mourns the loss of his skin against yours, aching for him. “Bend over for me, baby,” he orders, a bolt of lust striking you. He knows acutely that all he has to do is tack on for me? and you’ll do whatever he asks. You lean over the sink, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and he lowers his head to kiss your bare back. It’s soft, intimate, in stark contrast to the rough way he’s handling you. It adds fuel to the sickening flare of hope deep in your chest that gutters and gutters but never goes out. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He’s gentle, all of a sudden, gathering your dress in one fist and pulling it to the side. You gasp, your cunt fluttering in the cool air, and George grins.

“Come on, just fuck me,” you groan, rocking your bare cunt against him, the friction from the fabric of his clothes burning your clit deliciously. Your breath fogs up the mirror, the tap presses uncomfortably between your breasts and the corner of the counter cuts into your thighs. You hardly feel any of it, singularly focused on the man behind you. He removes his steadying hand from your hip, unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers and boxers down just enough to release his cock. You contort your body, twisting to look over your shoulder at him, his cock red and dripping, begging for you. He still looks so put together, crisp and elegant in his suit, his reflection immaculate above you. You look even more wanton by comparison, hair tumbling over your shoulders and lipstick smeared across your chin. Desperate, hot desire drips out of you, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Beg for it,” he orders, and you’re too far gone to feel embarrassed. He slides a hand between your legs, just barely grazing at your clit. “Oh, God, George, please fuck me,” you moan, mind-wiping pleasure licking from where he toys gently with your swollen bud. “Shit, I need it. Nobody fucks me like you, baby. It’s you, it’s you, it’s always you,” you gasp, biting down on your lower lip before you let slip another incriminating admission.

He swipes a finger across your cunt, dipping teasingly into your entrance and pulling away before you can even react. He licks your arousal off his finger, both of you moaning softly. “Wish we had enough time for me to eat that sweet little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you need,” he promises. You watch him reach into his pocket for a condom and shake your head wildly. “Oh, my dirty girl,” he murmurs, interest colouring his tone. My, your heart gets caught on. My, my, my. My girl. The words ricochet in your skull, bashing against your brain, denting it, leaving it bent out of shape with enough room for George to shove his way in and stay firmly glued there. “You want it raw?”

You nod desperately. “Want it fast. Hard. Dirty,” you plead. “Come on, baby. Ruin me.” At that, he can’t stay teasingly out of your reach any longer, guiding himself to your dripping entrance and thrusting into you in one fluid motion. You’re full so fast you’re practically choking on him, biting down hard to keep a scream at bay. You marvel every time at how well he fits inside you; your body feels made for him. Coherent thought escapes you, euphoria twining through all of your limbs at once.

He paws at your tit with the hand not holding your dress, pinching your nipple cruelly and sending a shock of pleasure-pain spiralling through you. His thrusts are quick but measured, exercising a control that you can’t even begin to fathom as you cling to the edge of the sink for dear life. Your thighs bash against the counter, but you can’t even begin to care. The only thing you know now is George. His hand digging into your waist, nails biting at your flesh, sharp pinpricks drawing a constellation of pleasure in your skin. You’ll be glad, tomorrow, to have the marks, the physical evidence of this encounter, proof of the ownership you feel over him.

“Is someone in there?” somebody calls from outside. You freeze. George only laughs, low and breathy in your ear, teasing, taunting.

“Well? Is someone here, baby?” he whispers, fucking into you again as he speaks.

You choke back a whimper, thrill stealing up your spine at the prospect of getting caught. Someone is right there. If they decide to open the door, there’s no hiding the dirty display you and George are putting on. Being seen like this, bent over, stuffed full of him and begging for more should be humiliating, but inexplicably you almost want to be caught. Maybe, if those girls out there could see how perfectly you fit, how well you fuck him, they’d leave him alone.

“Yeah, I’m in here,” you choke out, clapping a hand to your mouth to stifle a moan when George rolls your clit between his fingers, hot euphoria dripping down your spine. “I’ll— I’ll probably be a second!” you manage, his teasing fingers not giving you even a moment to breathe. Footsteps recede from behind the door and you breathe a sigh of relief, letting a string of suppressed whines and curses fall from your lips. Before you can chastise him, he perfectly hits that spot inside of you and you scream out, mind going blank from pleasure.

He groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, baby. My sweet girl, stretching so pretty around my cock.” You whimper, widening your legs to draw him in deeper. George lifts your head up by your hair, forcing you to make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he commands. “Look at my pretty girl, falling apart for me.” Your soupy mind latches onto that my again, that little word choking you as effectively as if he had wrapped his hands around your throat. “Made to take my cock. Isn’t that right?”

“Tell me you’re mine,” you gasp, so, so full of him.

“What?” he manages between pants, hips never slowing from their brutal pace. Your skin slaps together, wet, sopping sounds ringing through the small room.

“Fuck, George, just say you’re mine. You don’t even have to mean it,” you coax, moaning low in your throat when his fingers brush your clit. “Come on, baby. Who else do you get it this good from? You know you own my fucking pussy. Let me pretend I get something back,”

He stills for a split second, as though your words cut through the fog of lust swirling between you. Another girl might not have even noticed, but you know every motion he makes inside and out. A broken beat in his perfect rhythm means everything to you. He leans down, slow and deliberate. “I’m yours,” George whispers, and you can’t hide your physical reaction, how good it feels to hear those words. Your blood turns to syrup, heart beating deadly fast to keep it pumping through your organs. “Does it feel good when I say that?” You nod wildly. “I know it does. I can feel what that does for you. I’m yours, baby. Yours, all yours. As long as you’re mine,” he croons, breath hot and sticking in your ears. He’s ruining you. You won’t ever be able to lay under another man without thinking of him, of this.

“I’m yours, George, you know that. Ugh, fuck, I’m getting close.” You slip a hand between your legs, both of you rolling circles on your clit. Tantalising pleasure builds and builds, churning in your gut, setting your body alight. George doesn’t let up, words failing the pair of you, grunts and moans dripping off his tongue in the place of gratifying words. Pleasure coils in your belly, winding tighter and tighter, dragging you ever closer to your high.

One final thrust and you fall apart, unspooling under his quick, clever fingers. Euphoria seeps into your bones, sticky heat keeping you glued to George. Your toes curl in your shoes, your legs shake, unsteady on your feet. He fucks you through your orgasm, stroking your flushed skin as his thrusts become more erratic. You cry out something that could be his name, rocking your hips, half retreating from overstimulation and half chasing his orgasm. You squeeze your cunt around him and he comes with a shout, his body loosening against you, his hand dropping from your hip to catch himself on the counter. He spills inside you as your name spills from his lips, smooth and sweet on his tongue. He pants, hips resting against yours, and catches your eye in the mirror with a smile.

“Fuck,” he mutters, grinning tiredly. He pulls out of you with a sickening squelch, cleaning up as best as he can in the bathroom sink and tucking himself away. You stand upright slowly, clutching your abused muscles.

“Fuck is right,” you reply, wincing as you feel his cum trickling out of you. “I think you’ve shattered my hipbones, darling.” You adjust your dress, crumpled where George had it clutched in his fist.

“You love it,” he fires back. You shrug, tipping your head in acknowledgement. “Sit up here for me, love,” he says, patting the counter. You balance on the edge and let George fuss over you for a moment, cleaning you up as gently as possible, plying you with soft kisses when you whimper and squirm away, oversensitive. This is always the worst part of your hookups — he takes such good care of you after, and for those few minutes, you feel what it would be like to be really his. You stand on shaky legs and try to breathe some life back into your body, try to reel your mutinous heart back in.

“Shit,” you hiss, registering your reflection in the mirror. You look utterly fucked, hair wild, dress ruined, makeup smeared, chest heaving. “I can’t go back out there like this,” you complain, swatting at him when he smirks. Of course, he still looks completely put together, composed as if he wasn’t crying out your name and cumming mere minutes ago.

It takes a minute, but you manage to wrangle your hair into submission and scrub the lipstick stains from your face. There isn’t a lot you can do for your dress, though. Your thighs burn every time you take a step, and your bare cunt is desperately sore. George swats you on the ass and follows you out of the bathroom. Matty catches your eye as you slink guiltily back into the party, shooting you a wicked smirk. You can’t help but love him, even if it does mean everyone in this room is going to know your business by night’s end.

“Hey,” George says, still keeping a supportive arm around your waist. “If you really want me, I’m yours,”

Your pulse speeds, your tender heart smashing against your ribs, bruising to a pulp. “Can you repeat that?” you manage.

“I’m yours, love. As long as you’re mine,” he promises, taking you by the waist and staring deep into your eyes. You’ve always wondered whether he could read your thoughts with that look, and now you have your answer. Stretching up on tiptoes, you sling your arms around his neck and catch him in a long, sweet kiss. You link a finger around his.

“Yours. All yours,”

#george daniel x reader #george daniel #george daniel imagine #george daniel smut #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #smut #writing #request #i dont think this is as good as sun-soaked sorry guys #i also wrote Three endings and im not a Huge fan of any of them #idk i might remaster this when ive had a bit more practice bc i dont think ive done the concept justice

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