#i truly cannot do this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buttdumplin · 1 month

Text

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's word count: 2.1K

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 x latine reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #i cannot emphasize the poly of this enough #this is truly some of the most self indulgent shit i've ever written and i've never been happier lmao #honestly this is just precious moments with each of them #i'm definitely going to be writing more 141 x latine reader #prepare to be fucking sick of me #frfr tho this is the first long thing i've written in years and ngl it feels good to be doing it again #also yeah i tend to sprinkle in commas like they're condiments

276 notes · View notes

hyoqa · 10 days

Text

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: two secret admirers except he is actually insanely down bad for you its crazy

warnings: mentions the readers face 'flushing', it's kind of from hoshinas pov it's mostly his thoughts and voices, I cannot tell if hoshinas ooc but he's rather quiet with a whole ton of thoughts so idk if that's not it for you pls beware

Unlike one would expect, he was rather one to just sit back and admire. This is not to say he'd let a random guy just snatch you away, but he often couldn't do much more than just admire. It even surprised himself whenever he caught himself watching from afar again, but it really did make sense. He was one of hard work that no one would see, for as long as he could remember. Attention was not something he was used to, nor was it something he craved intensely. So what you had going on was fine for him, he was the happiest he's been just working with you every day.

However, sometimes at night, he'd wonder what it would be like if the one he loved, loved him back. What if he could make you smile and get you flustered? He wanted to know, but he convinced himself he didn't need to, nor could he.

Yet, one day those humble thoughts did a complete 180. He couldn't help it anymore, you had to be his.

It was no special day, at least not until you came along at least. It wasn't that big of a deal— it really wasn't, but the way your face flushed when his hand accidentally grazed your cheek would never be forgotten.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he had said, immediately. He spun you around and touched the place he grazed, asking if you were okay.

"I'm, I'm perfectly fine, thank you," you said avoiding eye contact. You didn't mean to be rude but you knew your face was bright red and you couldn't dare see his expression.

But you should've. You absolutely should've. His heart clenched at the sight and his eyes widened, he was undeniably in love with you, anyone could tell. He didn’t know if he had any effect on you, or if you were just not used to people touching your cheek, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. He would be damned to let anyone see that look on your face, let alone cause it, so there was no choice but to make you his. He wanted you so badly, but he just didn't know how.

Now all through the day, he found himself thinking about you— he didn't think it could possibly get worse. He noticed everything you did more than ever. He noticed how your horrible sleep schedule was finally a little better, he noticed how you noticed everyone's new achievements and always remembered to compliment them, he noticed how you'd still sneak out in the middle of the night to train when you just couldn't fall asleep. He knew all these things, and yet he didn't know what to do.

A few weeks had passed and he was training late into the night again, but his thoughts were filled with you. It was getting late and he was finally going to call it a night, and that was when he finally noticed you by the door. When your eyes first met, he truly thought he was hallucinating— thought that the fatigue and the constant thought of you had made him go insane. Until you spoke, that was.

“I apologize,” you said in a hurry, your eyes shooting around until they slowly met his again. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

‘Didn’t mean to stare’? ‘Stare’? How long had you been there for? You were waiting for him to say something, but that was not even on his mind at the moment. As smart as he was, there were constantly thoughts flooding his head and all he had were questions. Why were you here? Why did you stay? Why were you still up? Were you having a hard time sleeping? Did he wake you up? Was he making a lot of noise? No, your room should be far enough away from the training room. Then why were you all the way here? Did you want to train too? Was he in the way? Were you—

“I’ll um, leave you to your training,” you said quickly, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “Sorry to bother you.”

You were turning away to leave when he reached out for your wrist. His mind was still blank but naturally the question he wanted answers to the most slipped right out of his mouth.

“Why…” he asked softly, eyes wide with surprise. “Why… were you here?”

You were just as surprised and you also didn’t know how to respond. “I couldn’t sleep, unfortunately,” you said slowly. It wasn’t a lie, you really were struggling to sleep— however you did turn the corner in the hall to see if the lights in the training room were on, and you did hope he was the one still up late. Yet, to your surprise his expression relaxed and he almost looked disappointed as he carefully released the grip on your wrist.

“But you need to get some rest as well,” you said, wanting to say something, anything, to keep you in this moment.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said. He was getting no rest tonight, he knew he was going to be up late just thinking about you or thinking about how he’s mildly heartbroken. He was tired of being stuck in his thoughts though and, maybe from the fatigue, it slipped out of him. “I wish you were here to see me.”

He only realized what he had said after he heard himself say it. Immediately the thoughts were back. Oh but it was quiet… perhaps you hadn’t heard it? Not a chance. What does he say next? Does he play it off? That would be such a scummy move. Oh, why would he do that? He had gotten so far keeping his feelings to no one other than himself, keeping quiet, admiring from afar, why now?

“I was!” you said, immediately. “I was here to see you!”

What did you say?

“I was hoping you were the one still training. I was hoping I’d see you tonight,” you said clearly.

He was about to embrace you when he caught himself right before he threw his arms around you. His hands were placed on your shoulders and his face was so close to yours. “Sorry, I’m literally drenched in sweat,” he said. “That would’ve been disgusting.”

“I don’t mind, I can always shower again,” you said, more eager for the hug than anything else.

“No, you need to sleep, it’s late,” he said, but he had to admit that pulled at his heart.

“Okay, then this will have to suffice,” you said and kissed him quickly.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Not to be dramatic, but this was the moment he had been dreaming of for so long now.

His head was hanging, avoiding any eye contact— he didn’t want you to see his face flushed.

“I am so insanely in love with you.”

#hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #hoshina soushirou #kaiju no.8 x reader #HERE WE GOOOOOO #WE ARE SO BACK #see this hoshina is not the same hoshina in my silly text thing this hoshina does not say dick #and i cannot decide which one i love more #so for now i do both #thats a lie i know i love this one more deep down but the other one is so funny like i can hear it coming from him and itd be funny #ANYWAYS NOT THE POINT !#thank u sm for reading omg this was so fun to write #man i love when men are down bad #esp successful men #and this was about writing a successful man down bad i couldnt have more fun #hope to write for him more HOPE TO ALSO WRITE FOR RENO #really hope he gains popularity with the anime truly such a wonderful character #I HOPE U ENJOYED !!!#ALSO I APOLOGIZE NOT PROOFREAD i will proofread as i go...

202 notes · View notes

outoftimewriting · 7 days

Text

idk but tim's skills both in comics and in fanon are so inconsistent. like wdym he can fight azrael and ra's and lady shiva and he loses fights to... damian? like ok damian is a good fighter, trained by assassins and whatnot but it makes no sense, bc he wouldn't win against shiva

or like tim barely being able to hold out against jason both times he attacks him seriously (battle for the cowl and titan's tower).... but winning against all sort of weird ass shit in young justice?

im not even talking about how his intellect is all over the place, one day he is lying to batman and fooling doomsday and the other he is truly getting trapped/fooled by shitty ass villains like Calendar Man

#his skills are all over the place i never know if he is a good fighter or just mediocre #i never know if he is a good fighter or not #i could do a whole chart being like damian cannot beat cass who struggles to beat her mother who tim beat but that would be long #or like #is he smart?#sometimes the others are Just Dumb which is a writing mistake in my opinion #which is why i tend to think about tim as like a spencer reid kind of person #surrounded by smart people but being truly That Smart #tim drake as spencer reid #tim drake #batman #red robin #dc #young justice #tim drake wayne #batfamily #bruce wayne #jason todd

200 notes · View notes

carnivalcarriondiscarded · 10 months

Text

saw @chez-cinnamon's absolutely BANGER butterfly!Howdy design and couldn't resist! two fluffy flutterbyes <3 solidarity

#still unsure of Why this was the only pose that came to mind but! who am i to deny the brain what it wants #i also have no idea what it is about butterflies and mullets + extra fluff #it just feels Right.#oh also if you haven't checked out chez-cinnamon's Real World au uhhhh Go Do That!!!#its fun! its funky! its fresh! its got a lot of great art! its got a Comic!#emphasis on a Lot Of Great Art!#i will admit im emotionally invested in the plot. its reeled me in. im Fascinated by it #also(x2) i Cannot get over how swagtastic that butterfly howdy design is #like!!! look at it!!! the colors the patterns the WINGS agh the wings <3<3<3 #truly a unique and creative design that im totally not jealous of ahaha what-#kidding im Kidding. or am i... i am i am #scribble garnish #yassified howdy <3 #welcome home #alrighty its officially 2 am i needed to be asleep uhhhhh three hours ago #gonna queue this up and conk out. while lovingly thinking of chez-cinnamon's butterfly howdy my fucking GOD #cant get over how Gorgeous he is #the facial patterns.... the colors.... immaculate #top tier design i am Taking Notes #ok ok sleeping now. Sleeping. snz snork mimi and all that. etc

811 notes · View notes

chalkrub · 7 months

Text

it's mendel!

#my art #oc #mendel #anthro #furry #dragon #bringing back his sleigh bells because they kinda slay (sleigh)#i will revisit this i think. there's more i wanted to do with it but i wanted something to post before I leave for the next week so here...#watched the fnaf movie the other day for friend birthday and it was INCREDIBLY stupid and silly and bad but still a fun time somehow #the tonal whiplash was bizarre and the characters were incomprehensible and the dialogue was ridiculous and unintentionally funny #it's so funny this took 8 years to do what were they DOIN!!!! it cannot have been polishing the script!!!#but the animatronics and set design were incredible. even if they stopped being scary very fast i loved the funny murderous animals #playing elastica connection and iggy pop wild child was a choice that was made #anyway truly wild. i played the first four games and that's it so i can hardly profess to be the target audience #illustration

444 notes · View notes

comradekatara · 1 year

Text

listen to me carefully. a key part of toph’s arc is going from dismissing sokka outright bc he’s not a bender to thinking that he is the coolest person ever. you do not understand toph if you don’t get this.

#like I want to be clear I am not joking about this in the slightest #her relationship to sokka is so soo so important to her character #like her relationships w aang and katara and her parents and even iroh #are all very interesting and layered #but it is 100% sokka who catalyzes her personal growth who completely rearranges her soul #and her relationship to her own self worth #and toph is SO important to sokka in return #like she is his BEST FRIEND and that cannot be overstated enough #ugh. I just love them. I love their relationship #no one truly gets it. but I do #toph #sokka #sokka&toph #hot takes

2K notes · View notes

half-bakedboy · 2 months

Note

blurb about tommy coming to check up on buck after he gets choked by the crazy person from next week's promo

Tommy has to stamp down his worry before he walks up to Buck’s door. He’d only gotten the short story from a coworker who’d heard from a former partner that a firefighter on the 118 had gotten himself into trouble again.

Unfortunately, Tommy was immediately certain who that firefighter was.

When Evan opens the door, there’s a huge smile on his face, and it’s almost enough for Tommy not to poke fun at him.

Almost.

“You know, when Hen, Howie, and Eddie warned me about your propensity for getting hurt, I didn’t think it would happen this quickly.”

“Not you, too,” Evan groans. Tommy lets out a laugh as Evan turns to walk away, leaving the door open behind him. Tommy takes a few quick steps in after him, knocking the door shut behind him while grabbing Evan’s waist with his fingers. “What—”

“C’mere,” Tommy mutters.

He told himself that he was going to do his best to take it slow with Evan, try not to scare him off with too much too soon, especially when he found out he’d never dated a man before. But he’s so pretty and pouty when he turns around, that Tommy can’t help but kiss him.

Evan is quick to respond, eagerly and enthusiastically, like a puppy with a new toy that’s turning into his favorite. It makes Tommy’s skin tingle and his heart flutter with pride. He’s always so responsive in his movements, taking each second to let his lips and tongue study while his hands explore the planes of Tommy’s body he’s never experienced before.

When Tommy pulls away, it’s because Evan winces. Tommy tilts his head and glances down to see where he might hurt. That’s when he sees his fingers pressing against a soft red irritation around Evan’s neck. He feels fire rush through him, an anger he hasn’t felt in months, maybe years at this point, at the thought of someone hurting what’s his.

He pulls his hand away when he realizes he’s still causing Evan discomfort, but doesn’t stray too far. Evan is looking at him like he wants to say he’s sorry, like it’s his fault someone hurt him, like Tommy is going to run away from it.

“Evan, what happened?”

Evan chuckles, rubbing at his raw skin even though it must hurt.

“You’ll never believe it. This guy, like, couldn’t control his limbs? Hen said it was some form of immediate onset Ataxia or something, but because I put myself too close, he got a hold of my neck. It was honestly so funny cause the rest of the shift, they told everyone I’d been ‘ataxia’d’ which spread like wildfire—all puns intended.”

Everything he said was so nonchalant. Like, the fact he’d been strangled on the job wasn’t cause for deep concern. Tommy is, in fact, very concerned.

“Did someone look you over? Tilt your head up,” Tommy requested.

He placed two fingers under Evan’s chin and began the process for him, crouching down slightly to look for petechiae underneath his chin where most EMTs didn’t think to look. Tommy glares when Evan tries to push him away, and the other man relents almost instantly.

“Hen already checked me out. And then Chimney. And then Eddie,” Evan reassures. “I feel fine. Mostly embarrassed that I let a patient get the better of me.”

“He didn’t get the better of you,” Tommy argues. “He had a medical crisis that could’ve killed you.”

“But it didn’t, okay?” Evan says sternly. Tommy knows that tone and decides he’s better off dropping the argument and taking care of the obviously shaken man before him.

“It didn’t, but since I’ve heard that this isn’t your first rodeo, I thought I’d come with your usual comforts.”

He grabs the bag he’d dropped in his haste to enter the apartment and holds up a movie, some store-bought brownies, an aluminum takeout container of nachos, and a case of his favorite beer. Evan’s face softens like nothing kinder has ever been done for him. It’s a beautiful look, one full of appreciation and fondness that Tommy wants to bring out of him for the rest of his life.

“Now, the movie is my pick: Blue Thunder. The fact you’ve never seen it is an atrocity that has to be rectified immediately. Over beer, nachos, and brownies, of course.”

“I could kiss you,” Evan says.

Then, a gleeful look passes over him like he realizes that he can kiss Tommy, so he does.

(They start the movie much later than either of them intended with soggy nachos and lukewarm beer, but honestly, neither of them would have it any other way.)

#911 on abc #bucktommy #kinley #kinkley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #answered #ficlets #my writing #anonymous #911 spoilers #truly cannot wait to be right about this #(i dont think im right but man do i want it)

216 notes · View notes

baldursghaik · 2 months

Text

Reading the reaction to Larian's decision to fully step back from wotc/d&d/etc has been interesting

a lot of mourning of the loss of "content"

"we could have had years and years of content" "this is heart breaking to never see these characters again" etc etc

is that what you really want? content? is this what modern media production has come to, that people aren't sated with anything less than milking a property until it's a barren husk of anything it once was?

Why can't we be happy with what we have? I don't think it's unfair to be sad about this news, especially given that it felt like some things were being teased or hinted at, and now they most likely will not come to fruition (at least at larian's hands), but is that really so bad? If you're so dissatisfied with a character's ending or arc, write a fanfiction, draw fanart, boot up the game again and just imagine your way into what you DO want

is that not the fundamental nature of d&d?

#again #I cannot iterate enough that it's okay to be bummed out about this #but I'm proud of larian for doing right by their employees #they have more respect for themselves as well as the source material than wotc/hasbro does #I just wish that people could be happy at all that we have so much already #the only thing I truly wish larian would add is more material for wyll because he was done so dirty in comparison to everyone else #but aside from that the game is a great playground and sandbox for a million other stories or ideas #and wotc/hasbro or even larian themselves cannot rip that out of your hands #you can make more of what you love about this game this series this entire universe

205 notes · View notes

poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months

Text

💙❤️Happy Holidays!❤️💙

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #This is *specifically* fanart of the interfaith christmas cards featuring santa and his jewish rabbi husband spending time together #Why? Well as I was trying to think of things to draw for the season I realized there was another classic Blue and Red pairing to reference #They are going out for chinese food after this photoshoot. Kosher of course.#I want them to star in an interfaith hallmark film. A meet cute + save christmas + murder mystery in a small town kind of story #Or! Maybe they are just going to have a chill holiday break together and bake some treats with the extended family #So many fun possibilities about this bonkers concept I have no intention of making a bigger deal out of #speaking of Big Deals though;#If you have ever wanted to show appreciation for this (free) daily comics blog then I have one Holiday request:#If you have the means to - please donate your money to either a local food bank or a Yemen relief fund #there are so many people going without food and every bit helps. Truly would be the best holiday treat ever #and if you do not celebrate this holiday season…it’s also my birthday! You wouldnt want to let down the birthday cat would you?#(DISCLAIMER: it may or may not actually be my birthday. I may just be pressing emotional buttons to influence people to my cause)#(DISCLAIMER 2: I cannot vouch for any charities you donate to. Please be cautious and research properly before donating)

570 notes · View notes

lorastyrels · 25 days

Text

some dead boy detectives headcanons:

charles loves it when edwin reads out loud to him, he’s totally content to sit around and have edwin read stories to him for hours at a time

edwin being nervous about very simple pda when they start dating; little things like walking together and holding hands, charles would have to coax him into by rubbing the back of his hand

charles pretends to sleep, just throws himself down on the couch while edwin is reading and closes his eyes even if he physically can’t sleep, edwin never complains

edwin writes down little questions to ask charles after they finish cases, modern things like what microwaves do and what online shopping is and charles is always happy to answer even if they can get a little weird

they take walks together, often at night when they’re not working cases. mainly because charles likes watching the living and how London comes to life at night but also because edwin's love language is time spent together while charles is physical touch

hob absolutely rents their office out for them, has probably run into them too many times in the past 30 years so keeps the place up to date. he also sends cases their way. they're two ghost kids he wants to keep safe and they remind him of himself and dream

edwin would rather hear about charles life when he was alive than tell charles about his own. he likes listening to charles talk about what he enjoyed when he was alive

their first kiss would be in the middle of some petty argument in a graveyard while they're on a case and crystal and niko are late so edwin is complaining about the living again and charles kisses him to shut him up under the moonlight

#dead boy detectives #edwin x charles #I truly cannot get these out of my head so i’m writing them down here because they’ll probably become art ideas later on #literally I keep thinking about these and I have so many more but I have to put them SOMEWHERE before I go insane #i love them so much even if netflix takes them from me I will do things for them foreverrr #I haven't felt this for a ship in so longgg ;-;

161 notes · View notes

noxious-fennec · 10 months

Text

Got the opportunity to color one of @metfell 's lovely pieces!! It was delightful :)

#hi met i hope you don't mind me tagging you #this was absolutely lovely i hope you like my contribution #I'm not big on coloring that's not my forte usually but i do hope its up to par #i tried to keep the autumn cosy ambience going #i also now realise i drew his white streak the way i usually do its a disease and it's incurable #thank you for offering this!! it's very honouring #like truly in earnest your art is so so cool and beautiful i cannot state that enough #ok maybe I've done enough rambling for today alright bye #my art #<- only half

583 notes · View notes

lovesickeros · 3 months

Text

☆ from gold, i am undone

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, implied self harm, implied suicide attempts {☆} word count 0.9k

You weren't meant to be here.

You can feel it in the marrow of your bones– it weighs you down like heavy shackles, gold bleeding from your pores until it is all you know. The taste of ichor on your tongue, the warmth of its invasion beneath your skin, that gleam of gold that lingers in the color of your eyes like specks of dust.

You are changed, and you are whole.

But you are so unbearably broken.

A shattered piece of porcelain hastily put back together with gold to fill the cracks.

Decoration, in the end, for you are not fit to walk as "mortals" do. This gold had filled every empty crevice of your body, spilled the red into your frantic hands and made you bleed so it's callous gold could make room inside your body. It has taken from you many things, given many more, but you scratch and bite and tear until it drips onto the floor and even then it never leaves. It stains the floor no matter how hard you scrub– a permanent reminder of the sickening gold that molds you into something that used to look like you– that does look like you. Desecrated, yet so horribly divine.

All you see is a monster.

Something new, something old.

A hollowed out shell, wounds left to rot and fester until you suited the image of the Creator they bore upon statues and murals, the Creator worshiped in prayers spoken in hushed whispers and joyous chants praising your magnificence.

But what magnificence is there in detachment? What joy is there to be found in carving a God out of a human? They kneel like lambs before the shepherd, but the flock has made you– and you want to unmake them. Unweave the tapestry of their being stitch by stitch until it all falls apart and the world knows the cost of casting molten gold into the shape of a human, knows the price that has been left unpaid.

You want to take it from them. Watch them squabble and pray, blind sheep stepping into the wolf's open maw– to tear the seams of their being until the world is unwound by your heavy hands.

But you know it will not satisfy you.

Nothing does anymore.

You are no wolf. Only the shepherd who guides.

And with every drop of blood spilled, they ripped the humanity from your very bones until your body was the cast in which they made something anew– something gold, something horrific. A monster as much a God, a beast as much a man.

There is nothing left but absolute authority.

You try again and again to mend this act of desecration, to peel back the outer shell and rend the gold from your marrow– but your body cannot, will not, die. It mends itself back into place no matter how damaged, and all you feel is the uncomfortable tug of your body forcing itself to live. You cannot die, but were you ever truly alive at all?

Yet with every cycle, you know only one constant besides the thrum of golden ichor in your veins– cold.

Ice that burns, ice that spreads and festers and devours. Claws that pull you apart until the gold runs thick, teeth that burrow into your bones and rip it out from the source..eyes that witness the fall of a God with reverence– hungering, all consuming reverence.

You welcome it.

It is the first time you felt pain since you were cast into an image of a being you were not meant to be. The sting of cold upon your skin makes you shiver, your body tries to reject it, but you want to welcome it– for a brief moment that lasts only as long as it takes for you to blink, you see the glint of something familiar in the reflection of her empty eyes. Something achingly, horribly familiar– something human, all the more terrifying for it.

Even when Teyvat itself crumples like paper beneath the weight of her sins – of this desecration anew, this wretched heresy – you allow her hands to do it again. You grasp her hands in yours like chains, willing her to shackle you, willing her to pull you apart and make you whole again. To break you until the gold cannot put you back together again.

You long, each time, for those eyes like spears that lodge into your skin– burrow deep and sting deeper, making gold flow like water. You long for the biting tongue, the cutting words and those teeth like weapons– long to see the spite and anger and impure disgust aimed at the woman of silver who leads you down a hall that ends only in damnation. You follow each time like the lamb led astray by the wolf, but you do not wail in betrayal when she sinks her teeth into your throat and devours you whole.

For is it a sin if you welcome it? Has their God sinned, in the eyes of the flock, for welcoming such heresy with open arms? For allowing the wolf into their home?

Is it a sin to be broken beneath the only hands that have loved you?

Is it a sin to want to love, too, those hands and teeth stained in gold?

Then you shall be damned, you swear it. Damned, but gold no more.

For death is the closest you have ever felt to being human.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #tsaritsa #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #tsaritsa x reader #this is. technically not a sequel but not a prequel but a secret third thing (mental health crisis)#kidding i just wanted 2 write the prev fic from more reader oriented pov bc it wasnt fucked up enough!!!!!#i need fucked up reader who is irreparably changed in horrifying ways!!!!!! and they cant die bc teyvat kinda needs them 2 uh #exist at all. and if u die well thats it. hits reset button #the horrifying fate of a mortal forced to be a god against their will and all the drawbacks that come with it #where is love to be found when they all cannot see themselves as anything but beneath you? there will always be imbalance #oh they try. they claw and scramble and beg but being the creator has changed you.#none of their worship. none of their sacrifices and gifts and pleas make you feel a thing and what a haunting thing it must be #do they reject it? delude themselves into thinking that they must try harder?#or do they accept that this is a god? absolute. horrifying in its entirety. something that even the archons cannot truly understand #a manmade god who seeks absolution in only the most heretical. the most blasphemous #literally shaking chewing on the bars of my cage LET ME OUT #i love deep dives like this sorry 2 everyone i made think i was normal my bad #i just think immortality and godhood r funky concepts and i love making them WORSE #also this took so long because i was playing b@Idurs g@t3 3 erm. censored so it doesnt show up in tags PLEASE DONT SHOW UP IN TAGS #taking i need the tsaritsa to bite me to a whole new entirely worse level!!#i just think (starts talking for 5 hours straight and doesnt Shut Up)#this one is also. considerably more openly fucked up then the other fic. even if its hidden behind flowery language uh. take it seriously.#okay im done no more angst its fluff from here on out i need 2 be NORMAL. i am a normal well functioning adult. maybe.

174 notes · View notes