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gonnalosemydougdimmadomedamnmind · 3 months

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Literally I am so sick of whore dick grayson, himbo dick grayson, fandom bicycle dick grayson, like yall really saw that dick is the canonical pretty boy with the nice ass and then proceeded to give him 'bottom' as a personality and just ran away with that. Dick is not a pretty idiot that loves having sex and only cares about his appearance, for fucks sake. He doesnt need to be rescued by jason todd of all people, who literally willingly burned all his bridges and can't even save himself, or wally west, frankly, who is one of his best friends but not the one he gets emotionally vulnerable with.

He doesn't do casual sex, at all. He needs an emotional connection first, is it so hard to believe that an attractive person actually wants to connect to someone instead of fucking them? Or fucking their problems away? Is it really so hard to believe that an attractive person can also be intelligent? Can also be kind? Can also be selfless? Can also take care of themself? Can also be a functioning adult? Can also be mature? Can also be damn fucking good at their job? Have yall ever met a real person before?

Dick is Romani and one of the most well known stereotypes about the Romani people are that they are like magically alluring people that can't keep their hands to themselves or that they're like thieving, dumb, dirty animals and what did yall reduce Dick down to? An overly emotional, stupid, pretty slut that acts without thinking.

You know just because something is racist in canon doesn't mean you have to take that and amplify it by 100 in fanon, right? Like the shit I have seen on this website alone, the takes that just won't stop, are literally so much more racist than anything you would ever find in canon. And good God, it's not like you have to make his race the forefront of his character! It's not! No one's is, that would be bad characterization. But should his being Romani affect the way you portray him? Should there be certain things you can be considerate about? Should being Romani be part of his identity? Uh, yeah.

And also. Should you maybe consider what he's actually like in canon to characterize him within fandom spaces? Uh, YEAH.

Dick Grayson is a romantic at heart, is extremely private, and cherishes the emotional connections he has with people. He is a good person because he chooses to do good things. He wants to help people! He's literally a genius, I mean this in every possible sense, academically, physically, emotionally, strategically, picking up and mastering skills with ease, being a detective... that doesn't mean he doesn't have problems. He's an extreme workaholic. He will never talk about his own problems to his friends or family, just the occasional therapist. He's so good with people, he knows exactly how to manipulate situations into his favor, to his own detriment. He will never give up on you, to his own detriment. He bottles up his emotions deeply, and yes, occasionally he does explode. He has a guilt complex the size of the sun. Everything is his fault in his head, Everything. He will accept the blame for anything, for his own rape even, because he's Dick Grayson and hey, he should've known, he should've been able to tell. (This is specifically talking about Miriam).

Everyone puts him on a pedastal because he's the guy that can actually pull off the impossible and no one but him realizes just how high that pedastal is. Bruce wants to be him, thinks there is literally no one better than him, no one who could soar higher than him, the ideal hero. His hero.

Goddamn Superman thinks he's the one person in the universe that will almost always do the right thing at the right time across every universe. And I don't mean that he will BE the right person at the right time, I mean he will DO the right thing at the right time, because Dick believes in the power of choices! Of free will! He could do bad things just as easily as the people around him, he could choose to be cruel because that is literally so. much. easier.

But he doesn't.

Almost ever.

In nearly every universe.

Do you know how much pressure that is? He drowns under the weight of his own perfection, truly. He can't fail.

He can't fail.

Isn't that so unbearably sad? You spend your whole life reassuring other people that everyone gets second chances, and that you are not your worst moment, and that you deserve compassion even at your most despicable, and that everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes things are inevitable, and sometimes all you can give is your best.

You are the only person. Who does not receive that same mercy.

He can't fail.

His family treats him as an emotional punching bag, sometimes a physical punching bag. Occasionally, so will his friends. It's hard to see the person behind the legend. And Dick's legend is truly titanic in proportions... the first child hero. No one could've done it, if he hadnt done it first. If he hadnt done it so exceedingly well. And then he had his own hero team. And then he became his own hero, again. And then he had his own city. He did it all first. The literal trailblazer, lighting the way for everyone else, not letting anyone stop him. Not waiting for anything. A force of nature.

Everyone wants to be him, be liked by him, be acknowledged by him. They all rely on him, the linchpin of a universe. Dick really is like the sun. Warm, encouraging, revitalizing. He is the light in the dark, illuminating and intense. Focused. Powerful. And they are all caught in his gravitational field.

Dick is so much more interesting than anything fandom will spare him. God, what I would give for fandom to give even a 10th of actual attention and critical thought to him or any other poc character in this franchise, that fandom gives to the white characters. I mean, we've all seen it. The narrative fabricated through lies that 95% of fandom takes as gospel because they refuse to engage with canon or simply don't care because it favors their favorite characters. In case you don't know, I am in fact talking about fanon jason todd- aka meaner Dick Grayson with Helena Bertinelli's lifestyle and fanon tim drake- aka less athletic, more victimized Dick Grayson. The white fandom darlings, extremely woobified, you know how it is. Sigh.

#dick grayson #anti bat fandom #anti fanon #anti jason todd #anti tim drake #not really but technically...?#like yeah this is in response to fanon versions of all of them #specifically dick obviously but #im so tired of it #so so so tired of it #my posts #tw: rape mention #bruce wayne #clark kent #nightwing

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mayakern · 1 year

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hello!! if you don't mind me asking, what was your professional art journey like? (esp the earlier years) was MonsterPop! your first big project online? were you still taking client work when you opened up your shop? you're a very inspiring artist and I hope to be in a similar position as you one day! thank you so much for your time!

oh boy this is a doozy! and also a lot of this involves devin bc our success is completely intertwined

i went to art school (MCAD) from 2009-2013. i majored in comic art but had a secondary unofficial focus in illustration, specifically product design, and i interned at paper bicycle (the company of my product design teacher) my senior year, the same year they opened up light grey art lab. i mailed out a LOT of tarot decks. they didn't have a label printer so this took forever.

during that time i took some freelance illustration and comic gigs and also created some comics that got an amount of traction online (mostly on tumblr but i also got an io9 article written about me iirc). i also started making monsterpop (in 2012 i think?).

in 2012 i ran my first kickstarter to crowdfund an anthology of some of my short comics (how to be a mermaid, the little robot girl, fairyfail) and got my first taste of proper self publishing. sadly this was before i created redden (which was my senior thesis comic) so it wasn't included. i didn't have label printer so mailing out the books (i think i sold around 200) took forever and i ended up throwing a pizza party with my friends and having them help me.

after graduating i moved to the LA area in search of work. it honestly sucked ass and most things didn't pan out but eventually (2014) i got a remote job contracting for gaiaonline and i moved right back to minnesota bc i absolutely hated LA.

i met devin (my wife) 20 days after moving back to minneapolis. in 2015 i ran a kickstarter to fund printing the first volume of monsterpop and people bought almost 400 books. it was insane. i was dying under the stress of trying to mail it all out those packages and didn't own a label printer yet. between having to hand write the addresses, being both dyslexic AND slow, and getting headaches from the fumes, i could send out a max of like 10 packages a day. once again i was planning to throw another pizza party to have my friends help me out, but devin swooped in and got 100 packages done in just a couple hours and when i tell you that no one has ever done anything sexier for me in my life, i truly mean it.

at the time devin and i were both broke living paycheck to paycheck. gaia didn't pay well and the patreon money i got helped, but wasn't that much. i took some freelance/commissions and got some store and convention sales, but i was making around 22-26k and was constantly overworked. devin was in significant credit card debt and was barely scraping by between managing a gas station and school. i started making my very first skirts and then at the end of 2015 my arm, the thing that made me what little money i did make, gave out.

i couldn't draw anymore. this could have literally ended my art career, but instead devin stepped up. they took a look at all the things i was already selling in my store and figured out a way to repackage/bundle the items together in a way that was fun and appealing. and people actually bought the bundles! at that point the vast majority of my sales were at conventions and i wasn't very good at selling online, but that was the beginning of a new era. devin started working with me part time to manage the online store and go with me to conventions and things started getting better. at some point during this saga we finally bought a goddamn label printer.

by 2017 devin started working with me full time. we also got married and moved across the country to upstate NY. in 2018 we got a CPA and became an SCORP and monsterpop became a finalist for the prism comics award, which scored me an invite as a guest at SDCC. i really wish i had enjoyed that experience, but unfortunately i was dealing with some Bad Medication Issues and was extremely sick the whole weekend. otherwise it was great tho and devin had enough fun for the both of us. this is also around when i officially stopped taking freelance work. prior to that i'd only been taking a couple jobs a year, but the store was finally making enough that i could stop.

in 2019 i made the difficult decision to end monsterpop. this came with a lot of heartache but it was the right thing to do. i am much better now for it. i think 2019 is also when we became an SCORP.

we hired our first employee (lindsy) in, i think 2021. it might have been the end of 2020. and in 2022 we hired our second employee (ariel), who had been modeling for us already for a couple years bc she is our very close friend and actually the reason we moved out to NY in the first place. in late 2022 we started working with ash, who now manages our product supply chain and also is patterning new garments for us.

there's probably a bunch of stuff i've missed but this is roughly it! neither devin nor i were able to succeed until we started working together. our strengths and weaknesses complimented each other well and somehow things just worked out.

and if you take away nothing else from this, please leave with this info: if you sell and ship any amount of product online buy a goddamn label printer

#ask #faq #long post #there was also a monsterpop volume 2 at some point i think 2017

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x-heesy · 3 months

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PHUCҜ ΨΣΔH

Don't poke this man, I'm explosive, Ka-Blem!

With my hands I can stand just like Jean-Claude van Damme

Map out them plans, making sure my plane land

This is new territory, now it's mine, I demand

Goddamn, flying kick to your face, I get high as shit

Cocaine on the plate, I'm a bad bit

No pain, no more gain, I admires it

Getting violent, I can't shut my fucking eyelids

The kneecap breaks and there's a concrete lowkick

And the straight left one suddenly turns off traffic jams

Relax, dude, everything's fine, doki

It's an armed conflict, Elephant and Dope D.O.D

I've got this flow and verses, I'm still pissing them off

Eight-armed warrior, I feel hungry like a wolf

You barely moan, spitting the rest of your fangs into the ring

The lines seem to be written by Saenchai, it's a slap in the face

You want the elbow or the shell tow?

Flesh from your bloody skull sticks to the fence like velcro

You better stick to the fence,

'Cause the rhymes that we kick hurt worse than a below the belt blow

I'll leave you redder than Elmo

Wanna Fight Club on the side, I sell so, tell y'all

Sorry, excuse, or a poison? That's hell no

Send them all to hell bro, Bloodsport

Oh, you unleashed madman

Van Damme, I leave scarlet on the pages

I've been the blue, catch a case

Slap that grin off your face

See you fuckin' with a true blockbuster boy

It's a blood sport, oh Bloodsport

Double impact, short fuse, nigga, I'm like Semtex

If you can't see me, you need Windex

Vision clear on the peak, I be living there

I'm a visionnaire, cut these niggas up like culinary

I don't care, see, unless you look like Halle Berry

I'm never married, they see I'm looking way too scary

J-C-V-D nigga

I'm all up in your laptop, no PC nigga

I don't play for pretty boys and their dumb asses

I'm going to hate the hell out of these seasonal trends

A fast heel spinner digs into the brain

I feel like I'm possessed by Andy Hug

Jaws drop and blood pours from your face

The crowd shouts Nok Su Kao, Liu Kang does the bicycle

Universal soldiers, I grow like Rich Piana

They want to teach me empathy, but I still don't feel anything

I still can't feel shit, my spinning heel kick

Will cave your chest in and break your frail hips

Tape your fake lips together

Lift up your sweater, hammer fist batter you after

Blood splatter covers the ringside

No round, no rules, whoever doesn't win - dies

I don't care if you are Connor The Mayor

I'll roast your team with a Kamehameha

Oh, you unleashed madman

Van Damme, I leave scarlet on the pages

I've been the blue, catch a case

Slap that grin off your face

See you fuckin' with a true blockbuster boy

It's a blood sport, oh Bloodsport

JC∇D βΨ SłΩń, DΩPΣ D.Ω.D.

@seanisnothing 😂

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tsuki-sennin · 9 months

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Hopper~! Welcome, dear reader, to the beautiful Furasu High School~! The live action Yu-Gi-Oh GX or Cardcaptor Sakura you never knew you wanted~!

Houtarou Ichinose; no relation to Minori, Jin, or any other Ichinose you may know; what kinda bullshit do you have for us today?

"Pull Another Gotcha! 101 Dreams to Catch!" That's our tag for this year!

Spoilers, I guess...

-Cold open time.

-Everybody's gotta have a narrow escape with a

-So this is the power of alchemy.

-Goddamn, the Gotcha Driver's so slim.

-Oh damn.

-Lots of marketable little guys.

-...not doing much against this literal nine year old, huh?

-The Ouroboros Realm...

-"Find theeeem!"

-Hotaro-kun~!

-...I'm not sure what you expected with that concoction, but don't worry~! You'll only have to eat it once~!

-Already late to school, are we? Tsk, tsk, lad!

-Oh come now, Mrs. Ichinose, you're not gonna let us see your handsome husband?

-Very nice school set, it looks so real.

-Rinne Kudoh, eh?

-Oooooooh, shot down! Didn't even get a "You're welcome".

-"Family tradition."

-Renaissance...

-"Yeah, yeah, alchemy, whatever."

-Kaijiki... marlin?

-Imagine fighting monsters lmao

-That's the power of alchemy... making an elevator out of a bunch of trash cans, a child's bicycle, and a busted bench.

-"Oh fuck, the monster's real."

-Turn to face the ferocious beast!

-Hopper~!

-Oh shit, eyecatch.

-Steamliner~!

-He's just a little guy~!

-Hoppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer~!

-Steeeeeeeam!

-"My little buddy..."

-Rinne's been caught.

-A Chemy~!

-Ohhhh

-Girl's got alchemical drip.

-My man really just jumped in front of a train.

-Free the Hopper.

-Earned a little respect, huh?

-Holy shit, the train ate him.

-They like him...

-Hope for the future.

-I love how theatrical this all is.

-Holy shit they

-"You, my boy, are now Kamen Rider!"

-Cut short by the Fates. How fitting.

-101 Chemies!

-Attack of the PNGs!

-"You got your ass kicked by an eight year old?"

-Okay, Clotho's our focus villain for the premiere.

-Kama?

-"Get darked, idiot."

-Ohhhhhhhh I see...

-I imagine whatever adverse side-effects regular humans meet are a non-issue for our villains.

-That being said, I love the idea of villains taking on multiple monster identities, I hope they roll with that.

-"Gotchardriver!"

-Picked all the names!

-"...is that supposed to be Kamen Rider?"

-Oh my god, he jumped too high, he is literally a Pretty Cure.

-Rather handy beatdown.

-Oh, that looks so awkward.

-Gotcha Get!

-SteeeeeeeamHopper!

-Oh, he's got a fire burning.

-Here it comes~!

-Chillin' out with the crew in the schoolyard, findin' trouble, never lookin' too-\

-Oh, Chemy Story. Goddammit, I hate how clever that is.

-Put an end to this with a Rider Kick~!

-SteamHopper! Fever!

-Gotcha~!

-See you around, Clotho.

-Kamantis...

-All little guys!

-Kaijiki! Hello!

-Time reset.

-Oh dear god, not again.

-Minato-sensei...

-Defend the natural order!

-Jikai! Kamen Rider Gotchard!

-Skateboard...

-Okay, you've hooked me. I'm very excited to learn literally everything I can about this alchemy system and the characters who use it.

#kamen rider gotchard #Pull Another Gotcha! 101 Dreams to Catch!#kamen rider #gotchard spoilers #kr gotchard

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idk-wha-ahm-doin · 1 year

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@w3irdiy

You gave me two prompts to choose from, thanks for that XD

Since the next prompt to write is also Birdrick, I chose the second one! Beth and the Smith family finding out about Rick's Diane and Beth.

Tell me what you think. I think it kinda goes off the rails a little.

"Wh-where?" Morty panickingly asked, clumsily fiddling with the portal gun. "He'll follow us into every dimension!"

Gritting his teeth, Rick urged his daughter to run faster by the wrist. "Not every dimension. Give me that."

"You can run, but you can't hide, C-137! Oh wait, I'm C-137! Are anything but a ghost of me at this point?" Mocked the echoing voice.

"Dad!" Voice breaking into a shriek, Beth ran to keep up with her father and son. "What is going on?! I thought we were going to Boobworld!"

"Me too, sweetie." Grunted the old man, entering coordinations he'd sworn not to revisit. "Where's Summer and Jerry? Did we lose 'em?"

"We're here, asshole." Out of breath, Summer announced their presence. Only a few steps behind.

"Hold on tight." With that warning, he shot a portal ahead where they were running into, basically jumping into the first scene of his life where he began to mentally degrade. He wouldn't be surprised if Prime knew of this already.

On the other side, Rick tripped on an uneven part on the sidewalk, leading to all five falling on each other like pieces of domino.

Crack.

Rick tensed under the pressure, more concerned about the noise of something getting crushed under their weights. "What, was, that?" He spelled out, fearing the worst.

His son in law cleared his throat nervously to his right. "Oh, uh, haha. That? That was... uh." Chuckles trailing off. "... H-how long will it take you to fix an um, a broken portal gun?"

"Fuck." Crying out his frustrations in one word, Rick let his forehead hit the cold stones of the ground. Not that repairing it took much effort, but it took time, and time was not something Rick wanted to spend a moment of here.

"Ugh, Dad, get off of me. Why are y'all just laying here like dead fish? Jesus Christ." Summer was the one that urged them to get up. The old man took another moment to grieve whatever patience he had and whatever lunch he was about to lose before reluctantly standing up and dusting off his clothes.

"There are corpses on the street, Rick." Awkwardly waving back to the old man in a kid's bicycle, Jerry pointed out. "Is this the dimension of old people?" Innocently, he asked.

Keen observation Jerry, he wanted to make a sarcastic comment, but something made his brows furrow. "I thought I switched it off." He muttered under his breath.

"Switch what off?" Beth pressed him, having been standing close. "Dad, where exactly did you take us?"

Inhaling the dead odor in the air, Rick's gaze travelled up to the building he once called home. "One place the son of a bitch can't follow us into. You're welcome." He dryly said before taking off toward the house. "All I know is that a Rick lived here once."

"Which was you." Walking close to him, Morty frowned. "Is this your house?" He asked, loudly enough that the rest of the family wouldn't hear him. "It actually screams sad on top of its lungs."

"Maybe stop talking." Rick offered, storming into the garage. "Keep your family busy, will you? I'll make it quick- and oh-" He paused in his tracks. "Don't let them into the basement."

Walking casually past an incredulous Morty, Rick put the broken portal gun on some blueprint he didn't remember drawing. "... Are there bodies there?"

Running a hand down his distraught expression, Rick sighed. "I-I dunno, maybe? J-just don't risk it." He could hear the boy rolling his eyes.

"Hold up, the garage doesn't have a door, the floor isn't fixed after a goddamn explosion and your basement is a torture room. You're telling me you lived here after... s-stuff happened?"

The man pursed his lips, merely staring at the gadget while suffering a blank mind. "Maybe."

Coming to stand next to him, Morty's eyes studied the place. "Definitely like I remember."

"You don't know jack shit." The scientist scrunched up his nose, going through a box.

"I know plenty." Morty glared at him. "I practically lived your life once, asshat. I'm just as angry."

Rick paused in his search, shoulders slumping. "Sorry about that."

"I just think you should tell them." Morty offered with a wince. "W-we're a family now, Rick. Whether you like it or not."

"Fuck off, Morty. Now's not the time for this."

Maybe he needed to search the kitchen?

Grunting under his breath, he opened the cabinets in search of a specific item. "Goddammit, I think I'm out."

"Dad?"

"Jesus!" Jumping out of his skin with a yelp, a pot nearly fell on his head. "Don't just scare me like that, sweetie."

The blonde was sheepishly scratching her arms, her daughter and husband also in the kitchen. Huh, he wasn't really paying much attention. "Sorry, I just... you sure you don't know who lived here or... what happened to them?"

That sentence shouldn't have frozen him the way it did. "What uh, makes you say that?" He couldn't help but drawl it in hesitance as he tried to casually lean against the counter.

The woman's eyes were furrowed in sympathy or worry. Her fingers grazed the horse doodles on the fridge door of his daughter- his daughter, Rick's actual daughter, her small hands held a crayon and drew them one warm evening long ago. It hurt something deep and suppressed in his chest to look at anything in the house at all. Part of why he wished to leave as soon as possible.

"This... a kid drew these, Dad. This is messed up- a-and we saw the garage, it can't be more obvious." Something sank in the depth of his stomach, but he held his indifferent facade. "The me here didn't get to grow up." When she finally tore her gaze apart from the drawings and faced him, they were glistening with tears. "A-and maybe even the whole family didn't survive, who knows?" Voice shaking.

Fidgeting with an empty bottle, Rick tried to play it cool. Sometimes he really wished Beth wasn't so smart. Smart people suffered. "I try not to think about it." He admitted.

"There's something wrong with this universe." Summer raised an eyebrow. "Seriously creepy. No wonder that Rick didn't follow us here."

"Yeah, no wonder." Muttered Rick in an echo, facing away when Morty joined them in the kitchen, probably wearing a scold on his face. Clearing his throat, he straightened his back and continued. "Nothing I can do here, fellas. I have to make something from scratch and I know the perfect lab-"

A familiar chirp cut him off, filling him with dread.

"Rick, baby! Did you come back again?"

The honeyed tone glued his shoes to the floor, turning the blood in his veins into liquid ice. His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage and his mouth dried up.

No, no, no, no.

Now was the worst possible fucking timing for this.

The rest of the family looked confused by the caller, eyes drawn to the other room. Morty's wide stare stayed on him, though. And Beth looked somehow relieved.

"Oh, I'm so glad you didn't kill yourself!" The voice sang with a pleasant sigh. "I told you flying off without coordinates was dangerous!"

Jerry eyed a frozen Rick with disbelief. "Rick, who is that in the house? I thought it was empty!"

"Tha... that's Mom." Beth whispered against her palm. "S-she's alive!" She cried with joy.

"Oh, Rick." It called in a singsong. "Did you finally kill our target?"

Whatever joy and relief was radiating off the family died at that, four set of eyes staring the poor man down.

Noticing the attention was on him, Rick shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "You're uh, the house AI, right? You got the wrong Rick." He lied, hoping it would take a hint.

"If the wrong Rick steps in this house, he'll be blown up to pieces! You thought I wouldn't recognize my own d-d-d-dirtybear?"

Pulling his lips into a strained line, Rick closed his eyes. He felt their eyes piercing holes through him. "Mute." He grumbled.

"You designed me so I can't be muted! Or did you forget that already?" The AI responded cheerfully.

Fuck.

"... No. I-I didn't... kill, the target." Gritting out, every word was forced out and clawed on his throat before forming sentences. "Can you stop- talking to me for a few minutes?" Pinching between his brows, Rick inhaled, trying not to look at anyone of his found family. He would lose all his nerve if he did.

"I wouldn't be a good haunter then, would I? And oh, you brought your new family here!"

The concept of denial forgotten completely, Rick glared at the ceiling and growled. "Don't you even dare, Diane!"

"I'm just doing what you told me to!"

"Well, now I'm telling you to fucking quit it!" He shouted. "I'm giving you new codes! I don't- I don't fucking want to be haunted!" Voice rising as he yelled.

For the first time since its creation, the AI paused. "You made my codes un-rewritable for a reason, Rick! Besides, I'll always be in your head! You said that last time!"

"Ugh!" The man exclaimed with a mixture of rage, exasperation at the ugly truth and stares poking on his nerves.

"If you want to move on, I'm proud of you, baby! I forgive you for getting us killed!" Her voice was so joyous, so full of life, and yet she whispered bites of venom wrapped around a layer of honey. "But before you do, you can kill off the killer's genes!"

"Hold the fuck up- did you just tell him to kill me?" Morty glared at the same spot on the ceiling Rick had.

"No." Innocently replied the AI.

"Wait, the killer's your Rick, Morty?!" Summer suddenly yelled, pointing at him. "You never said anything!?" Jerry and Beth gasped and looked at the scowling brunet.

"I-i's complicated!" Morty shouted back with a streak of panic and defensiveness. "Rick! Help me out here!?"

Stopping for a moment to bite down a harsh retort and a tendency to murder, Rick smacked his hands on the table. "Everybody, shut up!" The yelling quieted down. "For fuck's sake, no one's killing Morty. And Diane, tell me, are we out of Isotope 322?" He demanded loudly. "There's no crack in the main tube that needs immediate fixing, but the fluid still spilled out."

The AI paused for a moment to scan the house. "Oh, there's actually some in the cupboard to your right, sweetheart!"

"Thanks." Mumbled halfheartedly Rick, opening said cupboard and snatching it and a beaker.

"Wow, grandpa. This is..." Summer trailed off after breaking the silence.

"Sad?" Rick snapped, beginning to make more portal juice. "Well, guess what? We know, Summer. We know."

Fucking splendid. Now there was going to be awkward silence and more pity than he could stomach.

He should've thought of another dimension, another solution or even avoided this house. He should've gone straight to the lab.

But no matter how hard he scolded himself, he knew in the back of his mind that the black hole of this building would always draw him in and drown him.

His hold tightened on the beaker as he watched the liquid stir together into a homogenous substance. "Why are you fucks just standing there? Go out- be-be useful." He ordered with a growl.

But his rage didn't last when two arms wrapped around his chest, making him wince. "... For all the times I blamed you for leaving me and Mom." Beth's trembling voice came from where she rested her cheek against his shoulder. "And you let me because- I-I can't even..." She breathed out in utter disbelief.

"..."

"I yell and scream at you about how you don't care about family!" Her incredulous voice rose gradually. "Is that- is that supposed to be a joke?! How many years did you spend out there I- pursuing a vendetta? What was that- a torture robot with Mom's voice?!"

"Sweetie-" Rick started.

"Fo-for all the times I called you a-! Do we even know you?!" She cried.

"Don't take it personal, honey." Rick paused and freed his hands, reaching one to put on Beth's head crown. Then sighed. "Even I don't know myself." He muttered the second part, earning himself a tighter embrace.

A tear threatened to wound his pride by falling down, but he blinked it away. A tender affection for Beth burned in his chest, encouraging him to turn his head and plant a soft kiss on her hair.

This cut too deep.

"Is there like uh, a room for one more?"

Raising his head, he saw Summer awkwardly standing with her arms spread out and a truce-seeking smile on her face. Behind her, Jerry was watching with an open mouth, and Morty had a goodhearted smug look to him, arms crossed.

Eh, fuck it. "All of you fucknuts, bring it in!" He cried.

A moment later, he didn't know whose snort was in his ear and who was trying to tackle him,

But he felt like a part of this dumb group of people bonded together through their experiences.

For maybe six minutes and twenty one seconds, Rick forgot about his haunted mind.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #beth smith #family #fanfic #request

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anotherdayinchuckletown · 1 year

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Savior Complex, Chapter 1

Summary: Max Shaw is a haunted man, both figuratively and literally. He also has an unhealthy desire to save the day. Sophia Holland is a living ghost from his past with the same desire. When she reappears in his life, they decide they must work together in order to take down The Grabber. With their individual specters closing in on them, their only hope is to accomplish their goal before it is too late.

TWs: explicit sexual content in later chapters, graphic depictions of violence, drug abuse, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced alcoholism, organized crime

A/N: This story is written by an adult, for adults. MINORS DNI. Mind the tags, folks - this is going to be a wild one. As anyone who has read my sporadic Max Shaw-posting knows, I’ve toyed with the idea of him having the same supernatural abilities as Gwen and Finney. Well, now I’ve written an entire story around it. This story has been months and months in the making, so I hope you all enjoy it. If you do, please LIKE AND REBLOG, it really helps us artists and writers more than you know. (cross-posted to my AO3 account: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43274973/chapters/108773685)

Without any further ado, here we go!

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That tree across the street hadn't always been so creepy.

In fact, when Max was a kid, he used to love that old tree. Its branches didn't always look as though they could snap off at any moment with a well-timed gust. They were once much stronger, much sturdier. It used to grow thousands of vibrant, green leaves in the spring, hiding those gnarled branches and all they encompassed from the outside world.

He spent an awful lot of time up there in his youth, both he and Al. Entire afternoons spent talking about anything and everything–or, more accurately, Max would talk while Al would nod his head every so often. Never interrupting, but never really contributing either, only listening patiently until the owner would poke her head outside and catch them up there, hollering for them to terrorize someone else's yard.

They were both just glad to be out of the house for a bit, to have some space between them and their father. Away from the shouting, away from the smell of cheap beer that always burned his nostrils, away from that fucking belt.

Max is staring at that tree now, barren and decaying against a cloudy Denver sky. In the recesses of his cloudy mind, he registers that he technically shouldn't even be in Denver yet, isn't supposed to be leaving Durango until tomorrow morning. Yet, here he stands in his childhood front yard, squinting in confusion at that goddamned dead tree.

In the corner of his eye, he swears there is a little boy in the window of the house behind it, but he can't be certain. The silhouette is blurry and unfocused in his periphery. Any time he attempts to look directly at it, it vanishes.

The property itself seems to be calling him towards it, spindly limbs beckoning him over. Casting better judgment aside, he follows, his reluctant footsteps deafening against the silent backdrop of the empty street. Dread weighs him down, makes him feel as though he's wading through molasses. Yet, he presses forward, experience telling him something very important is waiting inside that house.

He doesn't get far.

For a terrifying split second, everything goes dark, the world around him plunged into nothingness. He does not return to the yard as before. Instead, images flash through his mind, quick and disjointed.

An overturned bicycle.

A cluster of balloons, black as pitch.

Blood on the pavement.

Horrible, discordant laughter. Filling his eardrums, rattling his skull. Too loud, too loud, too loud!

Max wakes with a jolt, sweating buckets and breathing as heavily as if he'd just run a marathon. The smell of stale cigarette smoke lingers in the air, making his head ache, and the sheets covering him are uncomfortably stiff. He sits up, slowly remembering where he is.

The only source of light is the television, accidentally left on overnight, casting the tiny motel room in a harsh glow. An excited saleswoman encourages him to buy an opal brooch for only three easy payments of ninety-nine ninety-nine. Call now, and save an extra thirty percent!

Peering over at the nightstand, he checks the digital clock. Realizing it's nearly eight thirty in the morning, he balks. Did he really crash for five hours? Damn, he's more tired than he thought.

Samson remains curled up at the foot of the bed, ears twitching as he chases squirrels in dreamland. Max gets out of bed, very careful not to wake him. It had been a pain in the ass finding a pet-friendly place, and the last thing he needs is for Samson to start barking and get them kicked out.

Groggily, Max heads into the dingy bathroom. The echoes of that deranged laughter still ringing in his head, he flips on the light and gets a look at himself in the mirror.

Man, he looks like shit. His eyes are sunken and bloodshot, he's covered in sweat, and he's in desperate need of a shave. He'll need to hit the drug store and grab a razor before he catches the bus into Denver. Al already sounded ticked off about having to pick him up on such short notice; he'd definitely flip his lid if Max showed up looking every bit like the couch-surfing riffraff he currently is.

He also notices a smidgen of dried blood around his nose, which he must have missed from that particularly bad nosebleed he'd had last night. Turning the faucet, he splashes his face, chasing off the last vestiges of restless slumber. Using up the rest of his stash was supposed to keep him awake until he made it to Al's house. Fat lot of good that did.

Exiting the bathroom, awake but not necessarily refreshed, he returns to the nightstand and picks up the phone. He inputs the number, praying he remembers it correctly, and waits. It's still early enough that the person he's trying to reach shouldn't be too busy yet.

After the third ring, there's an answer. "Dr. Joe Mitchell's office."

Oh, thank fuck. Genuine relief coloring his voice, Max quickly says, "Hey, Joey! It's me, man, it's Max! How have you been?"

"Woah, shit! H-hey, man, hey, just hang on a second." The man on the other end, longtime friend and plug Joey, sounds incredibly startled at the sound of his voice. Max hears frenzied shuffling, followed by a short, heated exchange with someone else in the room, and then finally, a door slamming shut.

"Okay, uh, sorry about that, buddy," Joey says. "I'm good, man, what about you?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I'm good, everything's cool," Max reassures both Joey and himself. He takes a quick, deep breath before continuing.

"Look, I'm headed into town today, and I kinda need a favor…"

**********

The first thing Sophia notices is the dog peeing in the flowerbeds.

She stands in the kitchen and sips her morning coffee, a passive observer to the desecration of her camellias outside. Plenty of folks in the neighborhood own pets, so it's not unexpected to have the occasional runaway. The dog is facing away from her vantage point at the kitchen window, preventing her from seeing whether or not it has a collar.

It looks healthy, Sophia notes. A beautiful golden retriever with a glossy coat, albeit on the fluffy side. It must be a bit spoiled, certainly not a stray.

As the dog finishes up its business in her garden, Sophia sets her mug down on the kitchen counter and makes for the hall closet. Pulling out a thermal jacket to shield herself from the February chill, she hurriedly slips it on before inching the front door open and peering outside. The dog pads across the soil and sniffs at a rose bush, unaware of the human observing it a few yards away.

Upon closer inspection, it appears to be that Showalter kid’s golden retriever. Sophia cranes her neck, looking up and down the street for any sign of Billy Showalter hurling newspapers from his bike. Or even a single copy in her driveway, indicating that Billy has at least been down the block this morning. Seeing neither, her brow furrows. Those two are inseparable; it’s very unlike that particular dog to run off without its owner.

Sophia pushes the door open the rest of the way and steps out onto her porch, intending to call the golden retriever over. Before she is able, another door loudly swings open, startling it and sending it bolting down the street. As it rounds the corner, its barks fade out into nothing, but are quickly replaced by familiar voices.

The neighbors.

Her lips gently curve upwards as two bundled-up figures wearing backpacks make their way over from the house next door. One is notably dragging the other by the hand as they squabble under their breaths, pulling a low chuckle from her.

"Good morning, Blakes!" she calls, as cheerfully as she can muster at seven in the morning with only half a cup of coffee in her.

"Morning, Dr. Holland!" Gwen Blake, the smaller of the two and the one doing the dragging, calls back with matching gusto. Her pigtails are adeptly braided underneath a knit hat, and her pace exudes confidence, despite the rainbow-patterned winter coat she's wearing threatening to swallow up her tiny frame.

"Morning, Dr. Holland," echoes the muffled voice of the one being dragged. Finney Blake, Gwen's older brother, fruitlessly attempts to break out of his sister's grip. His face is partially obscured by the collar of his jacket, only a mop of brown curls and a pair of weary eyes peeking out.

Instead of continuing down the sidewalk toward their school, the kids make a sharp left onto Sophia's lawn. Her smile fades, a questioning eyebrow rising in its place.

Gwen marches right up to the porch before releasing her captive. "Can you please, please check Finney's nose one more time? He keeps saying it's fine, but I know he's lying!"

Finney stands hunched behind her, mortified at the attention. He hurriedly tries to backpedal, saying, "It's not that different from before. I told her not to worry about it."

"Nonsense. If Gwen's worried, then I'm worried." Sophia gestures for them to join her on the porch. "Let's have a look."

Gwen immediately follows, and Finney shuffles in behind her, hesitantly unzipping the top part of his jacket and revealing the large white bandage at the center of his face.

This is par for the course with her next-door neighbors. Ever since Sophia bought this little house about a year ago, she has built up quite a rapport with the Blake children. Gwen's scrappy nature, combined with Finney's unfortunate propensity for attracting bullies, often leads to afternoons watching reruns of Star Trek and The Twilight Zone while she patches up various scrapes and cuts in her living room.

While she wishes they would exercise a little more caution, she does enjoy the time spent getting to know the two of them. Both kids are well-mannered and as smart as a whip. Someone has certainly raised them right.

Given what she knows of their father, she has to assume that would be their late mother. But, she digresses.

“Lift those bandages for a moment," she instructs. "We’re still changing them twice a day, right?”

“Yes, ma’am," Finney answers, briefly struggling with the tape holding the dressing in place.

“Good. No more bleeding?”

He shakes his head, finally pulling the tape loose.

She smiles reassuringly. “Very good. Okay, hold still.”

Finney complies, head facing forward. His eyes dart over to Gwen, who looks on intently.

Sophia keeps a neutral expression, tilting her head this way and that, as she examines the injury to his face. The bruising around his eyes is fading from deep purples into yellows and greens, a grotesque watercolor painting. The swelling is down marginally, revealing a slight unnatural curve to the bridge of his nose which unquestionably was not there before. Her poker face becomes difficult to maintain as she takes in the extent of the damage.

"Another kid at school did this to you," she states coolly. She taps her fingers slowly against her leg–slow, rhythmic taps keeping her grounded.

Before Finney can reply, Gwen chimes in. "It was that fuckface Moose!" she huffs. "He waited for him outside because he's too big a pussy to do anything at school."

The taps continue, tempo quickening. Her anger on Finney's behalf overrides her instinct to denounce Gwen's choice of wording. Instead, she asks him, “Scale of one to ten, how badly is it hurting?”

“Uh…” He considers this for a moment, as if concerned he might pick the wrong number. “Four, maybe?”

For God's sake. She has seen grown men complain much more about much less. Finney either has a remarkable constitution, or he’s fibbing to avoid being fussed over. Possibly a little of both‒likely more of the latter.

"I'll be able to set it in a couple days. For now, if it's ever above five, I can prescribe some Percocet," she advises him, fingertips ceasing their rhythmic tapping. She reaches a hand out to take the bandages from him.

"That's okay. It's really not that bad." He hands them over, then winces as Sophia replaces them over the wound, despite her handling the area as gently as possible.

Her eyes flit over to Gwen, whose concern mirrors her own. She makes a mental note to pocket a bottle of Percocet from the clinic anyway.

"Well, then you are one tough kid, Finney," Sophia says, taping the bandages down securely before giving the top of his head a soft pat. "Takes a real dumbass to pick a fight with you."

He cracks a tiny smile, the first she's seen from him in several days. She returns it in kind before turning to Gwen.

"You'll keep an eye on him for me, right?" she asks.

"You bet!" Gwen answers.

Sophia nods, pulling her coat tighter around her. “Good. Now, get to school before you both turn into popsicles.” As they hurry off the porch and back toward the sidewalk, she shouts after them, “And cut the ‘Dr. Holland’ crap already, you’re making me feel old!”

“Sorry, Sophia!” they shout back simultaneously, voices growing distant as they begin a light jog down the street, following the same route the dog had taken just a few minutes prior.

The sound of the Blakes’ door opening a second time catches her attention. She watches calmly as Terrence Blake comes slowly trudging down the drive. His hair and clothing are disheveled, and heavy bags adorn his dark eyes, squinting at an overcast sky.

He reaches the end of the drive before noting the absence of the morning paper, to which he heaves a long sigh. Spotting Sophia on his way back toward the house, he grumbles, “Paperboy never made it through here today?”

Sophia stares past him and down the block, where several other kids have started trickling out of various houses, a sign that it’s well past seven by now. “Guess not,” she says simply.

Billy Showalter has never been this late. Although, she supposes if his dog got loose on the route, he would be too busy searching for him. She chases away any suspicions creeping around the edges of her mind.

A third door slam, and when Sophia looks back, Terrence is already gone. No doubt nursing that obvious hangover. A deep frown settles over her features.

The finger tapping returns with a vengeance as she heads back inside herself. The Blake kids are smart, sure, but even they can come up with some very flimsy explanations for certain cuts and bruises.

For the hundredth time, it seems, Sophia thinks about the Blake family and weighs her maddeningly slim options. She could call Child Protective Services. Or she could handle it in other ways‒a number of other ways. But no matter what, the outcome would remain the same, and the idea of Finney and Gwen ending up in foster care is abhorrent. Out of the question. She won’t do that to them, won’t put them through that.

At least with them living next door, she can pick up the slack. At least for now, she can take care of them. That will have to be enough.

**********

Galesburg Urgent Care sits tucked away in the northwest corner of Denver, suburban enough that it's a relatively quiet establishment, yet metropolitan enough that Sophia has to park a couple blocks away and power walk herself to the building. It's a relatively low foot traffic area, given that it's largely surrounded by upper-class subdivisions and pretentious ivy-covered buildings, so the walk each morning is easy and relaxing.

As Sophia approaches the front entrance, two burly, well-dressed young men exit. Upon noticing her, they both flinch before scrambling to get out of her way.

"Morning, Doctor." One of them tips his trilby in her direction as they let her pass, giving her a wide berth.

She breezes past them wordlessly, pushing the door open and leaving them to mutter behind her outside.

The clinic doesn't officially open for another hour, but that doesn't stop there already being a ruckus happening inside. From the lobby, she can hear various clattering pour from the staff room, flooding the hallway.

She rolls her eyes. It's too early for this shit, she inwardly gripes, heading in that direction to endure her colleague just long enough to make herself another cup of coffee.

When she enters the staff room, Dr. Joe Mitchell, the source of the noise, promptly gives up on the microscope he's fiddling with. "There you are, finally! Holy shit, what a morning, am I right?" His voice is too loud for being only a few feet away, and the smell of marijuana is coming off of him in waves.

Sophia stares at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He doesn't, only looking exasperated after a moment.

"Okay, I'll bite, Joey," she relents. "What happened?"

Joey splutters. "Whaddaya mean, 'what happened'? What's the matter with you?" he asks, already nasal voice raising in pitch.

"Nothing," she snaps, making a beeline for the coffee maker across the room. "Does this have something to do with our esteemed guests who just left here?"

"Ugh, that's another can of worms, don't get me started," he groans, likely to get himself started anyway. "No, I'm talking about Ted Bundy! Arrested down in Pensacola last night, the crazy bastard." He pauses a moment. "You've been all over that shit ever since he busted out. Thought you'd be celebrating."

Well, shit. Of course a story like that would break on the one day she misses out on the news. She pulls her mug out of the top cabinet before shutting it harder than she means to. Humming thoughtfully, she takes the coffee pot and proceeds to fill her mug to the brim.

"Didn't have that one on your radar, did you?" Joey teases, bouncing right up behind her. "You've lost your touch, Holland." He claps her once on the shoulder, nearly causing her to spill.

"And you've lost your medical license, but I don't see that stopping you," she hisses before taking a long sip.

He holds up his hands in faux offense. "Watch it, kid. I technically outrank you." His tone is deadpan, but it lacks any real bite. "Oh, by the way…" He starts again, but loses momentum, trailing off midway.

Sophia raises an eyebrow impatiently.

"They, uh, they got a client for you," Joey finally tells her. "That's what they came to tell us. They're expecting a delivery by the end of the month."

Yeah, she should've seen that coming. Morning guests are never a good sign.

"...That's all they wanted?" she asks, doing her best to keep both her tone and expression even. Her white-knuckle grip on the mug threatens to tattle on her anyway.

"Pretty much." He shrugs, at least respecting her enough not to give her any false sympathy. "Oh, and apparently they also found more of those damn balloons this morning."

"The same black ones?"

"Yep. Those ones from last month, you got a look at 'em, right?"

Sophia nods. "Definitely not ours. Empty, too."

"Good. Just, uh, keep an eye out for me, okay?"

With her free hand, she gives an unenthusiastic fake salute. "You got it, boss."

Joey shakes his head, chuckling. He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of a phone ringing elsewhere in the building. Specifically, the one in his private office.

He groans before stomping out of the staff room and down the hall toward the ringing. "Who in the blue blazing fuck is calling my office extension before we're even open?"

Sophia follows behind him, curious. It could be something as trivial as someone forgetting their normal office hours. However, a call like that would just go through reception. For someone to go to the trouble of calling Joey specifically…

He picks up the phone, clearing his throat. "Dr. Joe Michell's office," he says stiffly, rolling his eyes at Sophia, who stands in the doorway with her head cocked to the side.

As soon as the other person begins to speak, his expression suddenly changes to one of sheer panic. "Woah, shit! H-hey, man, hey, just hang on a second."

Receiver still in hand, he begins making wild, exaggerated shooing motions at Sophia, who simply stares in confusion.

"What? Who is it?" she asks sharply, furrowing her brow as he stares at her like she could attack at any moment.

He rushes back over toward her and whisper-shouts, "Go put on your lab coat, the nurses will be here any minute!" And with that incredibly subtle diversion, he promptly slams the door in her face, leaving her absolutely bewildered in the middle of the hall.

Fucking weirdo.

**********

A cadaver is nothing special.

Everyone dies at some point. Some earlier than others. Some messier. Some eerily clean, as if the deceased has merely fallen asleep, and could wake up at the slightest provocation. In her years as a physician, Sophia has witnessed them all.

This one Sophia is standing over now happens to be the third kind.

After careful deliberation and much refining, a syringe of morphine has become her weapon of choice. Guns are too loud. Knives are too barbaric. Blunt objects are downright archaic, and she doubts she’s physically strong enough to beat a grown man to death in any case. Controlled substances are just that‒controlled, at least when in capable hands.

Said syringe still pokes into his neck, admittedly poor practice. But hey, it’s been a long day, and she’s ready to rush home and unwind in a hot bath. Unfortunately, her work here has just begun.

Gingerly, she bends down and reaches a latex-gloved hand out to grip the barrel of the syringe. Securing her thumb against the plunger, she pulls it out carefully to be properly disposed of. A rivulet of blood trickles from the injection site onto the wooden floor beneath, causing Sophia to let out a put-upon sigh. She’ll have to clean that up before she can leave.

Having mapped out the house beforehand, she heads straight down the hallway and into the guest bathroom. She rifles through a couple cabinets before finding a washcloth and taking it over to the sink.

Glancing at the mirror is a mistake.

She looks the same way she always does on nights like these. Her dark hair is piled into a tight bun atop her head to eliminate the possibility of another person grabbing it (she won’t ever make the mistake of a ponytail again). Her rubber coat is spotless, as it has been an especially smooth job thus far. Her surgical mask conceals all but her bloodshot hazel eyes, and that’s where the trouble lies.

The moment she meets her own wide gaze, a wave of nausea crashes over her, causing her to drop the washcloth. Staggering forward, she grips the edges of the counter and lowers her head. She feels her gloved hands shaking, her arms threatening to give out.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Her hands eventually steady themselves, and when she lifts her head, her eyes are calmer. She retrieves the washcloth from the floor, determination renewed. People are counting on her. Joey said they were expecting a delivery, so she had better deliver. If she doesn't…well.

Despite her natural talent for it, invasive surgery has never been Sophia’s cup of tea. Funny how she performs so many of these damn nephrectomies lately.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Irony is a bitch.

#The Black Phone 2022 #max shaw #The Grabber #finney blake #gwen blake #terrence blake #savior complex #my fic

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steter-bang · 2 years

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Woo-hoo! 🥳 Time for a weekend full of Steter fics from previous Steter Bangs! 😎

Eager To Tear Apart The Stars Author: NacreousGore Collection: Steter Bang 2021 Art: Here by Smalls2233 Rating: E Words: 19,571 Summary: "Hellbent on acquiring something of immense personal gain from the latest beast in the woods of Beacon Hills, Peter coerces a protesting Stiles into accompanying him - using him as bait for his own intentions, and ultimately his gratification too."

As Cold as the Winter is Author: esoterica Collection: Steter Big Bang (2015) Rating: M Words: 20,037 Summary: "In a post-apocalyptic world, Stiles makes a deal with Peter Hale to save the world - or his dad and Beacon Hills, at least. Somewhere along the way, the terms of that deal change."

I Know That All Beneath The Moon Decays Author: gemjam Collection: 14K Steter Reverse Bang (2018) Art: Here by redcrate Rating: E Words: 16,335 Summary: "Peter has all but given up on existing outside of his niece and nephew when he meets someone who the world has hurt in such similar ways they can't help being drawn to one another."

My Soul Is Gone Author: Mysenia Collection: 14K Steter Reverse Bang (2018) Rating: M Words: 14,030 Summary: "Stiles is slowly losing his soul to the nogitsune, tired after fighting it for more than six years. He is about to give up fighting when Scott gets bitten by a rogue alpha werewolf. As that is just unacceptable, Stiles sets out to figure out who thought it would be okay to try and take his best friend from him, and then rend them limb from limb. It does not quite go the way he plans."

Blazing Sun Author: HyperLittleNori Collection: Steter Reverse Bang (2019) Art: Embedded by Firebull Rating: E Words: 27,167 Summary: "If he closed his eyes he knew he’d see them again, see their clawed fingers reaching for him through the door that had never closed. Through the void. The darkness was connected to him still through a wound that wasn’t healing, that should never have been there in the first place. Stiles and the Nogitsune were connected too strongly when Kira stabbed him with her sword. Now Stiles is left with a magical wound that only grows bigger as time passes..."

Something Powerful Between Your Thighs Author: Bunnywest Collection: Steter Reverse Bang (2019) Art: Embedded by Platypusesrneat Rating: E Words: 18,594 Summary: "Someone’s actually replied. Fuck. I’ll give you what you need, pretty boy. And you can call me Sir. The hairs on the back of Stiles’s neck prickle at that, and his dick throbs. He clicks on the profile and the picture that pops up is UN-FUCKING-FAIR. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, nobody should look like that. The man’s staring into the camera, a smile that’s almost a sneer on his face. And what a face it is. Intense blue eyes, cheekbones like cut glass, and a strong jawline covered in the perfect amount of stubble. His neck, what Stiles can see of it, is thickly muscled, and Stiles can see the beginnings of a tattoo that travels down. There’s the tiniest scattering of grey at his temples, and Stiles breathes out, “Oh yes, Sir,” as he drinks in the details on the profile."

I'd Give It All For You Author: Tahlruil Collection: Steter Reverse Bang (2019) Art: Embedded by CinnamonLily Rating: T Words: 12,356 Summary: "Peter was damn near ready to pull his hair out. That scent, that fucking scent, was still haunting him. It was all over the campus and it should have been child's play to find the source. Instead he was chasing his own tail more than anything, going 'round in circles and never finding what should have been a goddamn two-by-four in a pile of sand. It left him frustrated and half-feral, always a hairs-breadth from losing what had once been impeccable control. He hid that as best he could - a werewolf without a pack couldn't afford any real slip-ups - but he'd sent more than one co-ed fleeing from smiles that were more snarl than anything else."

#steter mini bang 2022 #fic rec friday

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whitechocolatemochaasblog · 2 years

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Arthur and Donna

When Donna sinclaire was 22, she wanted to explore the world. She wanted to leave and never come back where she came from.

After packing her suitcase with a sudden decision, she bought the first flight tickets to Paris.

When getting into the plane, she slowly realized how stupid this decision is. Leaving everything behind her back, her family, her bestfriends, especially Milen and Sharon..

"but there is no need to be scared" she tought. Not at all! Because she knewed Deep down inside, this was a change that should have happened a long time ago.

After a long flight, she got off the plane with her makeup shabby and her hair messy, disheveled. She quickly found a pretty street and sat on a Bench but she didn't know exactly where she was, and how to find a place to stay.

Thats great. Good job Donna! Now you finally managed to make a fool out of yourself! Awesome she tought

When She was just about to get up from the bench and turn on the navigation on her phone when suddenly-

Boom.

She suddenly found herself on the ground. and as she layed on the ground, dazed, bewildered, she slowly looked up to what the fuck just happened. She saw a bike, a bunch of newspapers scattered on the ground and then, she saw him.

The blonde boy was looking at her, with worried green eyes, repeating the same words over and over again. "İm sorry, im so sorry madame" .

Her nerves were starting to break. After a long and tiring journey, the last thing she wanted was to be run over by a bicycle on a goddamn random street.

"its fine, its okay i-"

"please, please let me fix this situation, how can i help you?'

she was about to say; you can help me by shutting up your mouth and disappearing out of my sight.

BUUTTT!! Later it came to her mind that she can use this for her own advantage.

"okay uhm, that was definitely not a good start. So why dont we start over? İm Donna."

"Arthur."

" Well, nice to meet you Arthur"

#diabolik lovers oc aesthetic #ayato sakamaki #azusa mukami #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #dl oc #kanato sakamaki #kou mukami #laito sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #shu sakamaki #diahell #diabolik lovers fanfic #diabolik brothers #Spotify

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gaykarstaagforever · 9 months

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...Okay I do NOT understand the whole Dover Boys meme thing.

Why this? I appreciate that what it did in 1942 animation-wise was sort of a progenitor of modern pop animation. But it wasn't alone in that. Why this thing?

It is a parody, in 1942, of a YA book series called The Rover Boys, that ended in 1926, that was incredibly popular around WWI. So I guess adults in 1942 would have had nostalgia for it?

The Dover Boys is also parodying college life from like 1890 to 1910. Which in 1942, would have been funny to 50 year olds? Were they the main audience for WB shorts?

This whole thing is very confusing. Like, why is this now a meme? And also, why was it a meme in 1942? Why did they make this? Who was this for? What a weirdly specific old thing to make fun of with your wacky cartoon short.

Also I don't find the original terribly funny. It really is a parody of a thing I don't know, and you really need to know what The Rover Boys was to get any of these otherwise esoteric jokes.

The title of this short is "The Dover Boys at Pimento University, OR The Rivals of Roquefort Hall."

Pimento University is where the Dover Boys go to school. Its initials are PU. That is literally like 40% of the jokes here.

I don't know what the hell Roquefort Hall is. It is never mentioned. Apparently this is a reference to the original Rover Boys going to the Colby Military Boarding School. ...See, because both Colby and Roquefort are cheeses?

See what I mean about needing to know the source material to get the parody? This thing absolutely does not stand on its own.

This is the picture the Wikipedia article on the Dover Boys uses to show what the Rover Boys was.

...Are you goddamn kidding me?

There is also a running gag about an old man in bare feet walking across the screen. I have no idea what that is, and I have not looked it up yet, to emphasize my point. That is the other 40% of the jokes. Just that guy. At the end, he gets the girl. Everyone laugh.

The bad guy has blue-green skin for no reason. The Dover Boys don't really do anything besides frantically ride bicycles across the screen and yell. None of this matters. Then it stops.

Yeah I don't know, Internet. You picked crap and got weird with it. I don't get any of this.

Goddamn weird.

(If this is funny to you, please email me and explain why, and how a 140 year old person is still alive.)

Edit: I looked up what the old man is. Apparently he is...an old man in a bathing suit and a sailor's cap who runs across the screen.

There is no other information.

If that isn't a parody of anything, it isn't funny on its own.

I don't...

#the dover boys #the rover boys #confusion #animation #warner bros #wb #merrie melodies #looney tunes

0 notes

22hounds · 2 years

Text

tickets for ; maknae line reacts to

now playing ; having a crush on y/n senpai ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

park jimin

- shy

- by shy i mean he avoids you 24/7

- if he’s walking along the corridor and he sees you this man’s turning around because aint NO WAY

- if you manage to catch him and attempt to hold a normal conversation he’s barely staying coherent

- man is on his survival instincts like learn adapt improvise

- he drags namjoon along to have an excuse to peek from your classroom window

- poor namjoon just wants to have his lessons in peace but his dumbass friend has a dumbass crush on his dumbass classmate

- giggles and blushes while daydreaming about your four kids and two dogs

- please initiate physical contact he will break

- eyes crossed legs wobbly little cartoon birds flying around his head kind of breaking

- he runs to you after your competitions and brings you ice water

- jumps around you excitedly and tells you how good you were

- your heart is doing backflips across the continent but he’s so OBLIVIOUS

- he will never get off his ass and confess to you so it’s your responsibility to take him by the shirt collar and shake some sense into him

- so you do exactly that when you invite him to the rooftops during lunch break

- the scene is set your heart is steeled SPIT IT OUT

- jimin doesn’t believe you at first and pinches himself

- he thought he’ll just never get over his crush and watch you move on with your life

- but now that you’ve confessed....

- throws his arms around you and laughs into your shoulder wksddjehfrjhf

- he’s clingy as fuck too like

- insists on getting you to school every morning on his bicycle

- cutest couple ever

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

kim taehyung

- you met him at the art club

- freaks out daily about y/n the amazing incredibly talented show stopping wonderful art club president

- he’s calm

- he’s composed

- if you go by his expressionless face you’d think he hated you

- oh no he’s just raving about the paint stain you’ve got on your face and how nice it makes you look

- he’s nice to youin a sneaky way

- puts anonymous notes on your desk and races away before anyone enters the classroom

- little hearts and doodles annotating compliments and observations about you

- makes up excuses to give you your favourite drink

- “oh i accidentally bought two entirely different brands of tea here have one ahahhahahah”

- paints for you

- he never paints your portrait directly but he puts little bits and pieces of your personality in his works

- your favourite flower, your favourite bird

- he loves you more with each splatter of paint and each stroke of charcoal

- and on a friday he comes to art club with a fever

- almost collapses when he gets to the door

- you pull him across the room and onto the couch the second you notice

- you take care of him the entire afternoon after the gathering

- pulling out juice, snacks and an icepack out of nowhere

- you sing him to sleep and it’s very cliche and embarassing for you but taehyung is very much in love with you so he feels like he’s in god’s loins

- in the meantime you’ll just have to stare at his infuriatingly perfect face while he passes out on the couch

- you’re sweating. a lot.

- in your defense what the fuck were you supposed to do if you’re in a room with this gorgeous boy who looks like he despises you half the time

- and he’s SMILING TOO

- you’re in pure agony until he reaches out and grabs you hand

- well fuck

- two weeks until your graduation taehyung gets you alone

- he knows he’s probably given you no reason to like him back but he’s taking his goddamn chance

- oh whoops you already knew it was him who left the notes

- he’s contemplating throwing himself off a cliff when you pull him close and kiss him

- ;)

-------

jeon jungkook

- ever since he was five he’s been following you around

- and as a seven year old back then you were very enthusiastic about having a toddler who agreed with everything you said

- he was tiny and got bullied by some kid in your neighbourhood

- you came to his rescue and beat the shit out of his bully

- in your defense he was eight years old he had the high ground

- you got ripped into by mother dearest but he’s looked at you with stars in his eyes ever since

- worth it

- skip to highschool and hoo boy

- he has GROWN

- you cannot remember when he got so ripped for the life of you but you’re not complaining

- he plays in the school hockey team and begs you to come to practise at least once a month

- ~shows off~

- he gets teased relentlessly by his teammates but he doesn’t give two shits

- he’ll smack them if he has to you’re WATCHING HIM

- he instantly devolves into a fanboy when he’s in your presence

- will fight for your honor if you asked him to

- but he prefers watching from the sidelines while you fuck shit up

- cheers obnoxiously whenever you land a hit

- he’ll lend you his sweater with his number on it

- acting like he doesn’t care but he flushes when he sees you wearing it

- you’ve only had one (1) boyfriend throughout your entire life but one is enough

- said boyfriend was shitty anyways

- jungkook doodles a heart and writes “Y/N + JK” with a little arrow

- mans has a notebook with love letters addressed to you ASHDKDJF-

- he dreads the day you find out so he doesn’t let anyone touch his bag

- you find out anyways because luck is never on his side

- when he figures out that his notebook is gone he shuts himself in his room and breaks down

- thinks of the absolute worst possibilities

- meanwhile you’re literally crying your eyes out reading his letters

- and when you smack him on the head and kiss him he may or may not have let a few tears slip

------

have this before my two week hiatus

#jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reactions #bts x reader #airing movies//#sr: bts #gen: reactions

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Okay but like I feel like Diego is the kind of person to flirt with really bad pick-up lines and Klaus is just Not Having It

featuring: Diego being a flustered Mama's boy and Klaus being a disaster dumbass and the two of them being completely in love with each other anyway

DISCLAIMER: None of the pick-up lines are mine, but the responses and ensuing shenanigans are :)

(there's fifty of these so buckle up kids :) sorry not sorry <3)

seriously though some of these are really bad

#1: He A Snack

Diego: Baby, you belong in the vending machine because you’re a snack.

Klaus: Diego you know I’m claustrophobic.

Diego: Don’t you mean Klaus-trophobic??? *finger guns*

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I want a divorce.

#2: I’m From Hell

Diego: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

Klaus: I’m a veteran addict and abuse victim who can see ghosts, Diego.

Klaus: Everything hurts.

#3: Animal Puns

Diego: *points to TV screen playing the Discovery Channel* Hey Klaus.

Diego: You’re my otter half.

Klaus: Diego those are meerkats.

#4: Stars

Diego: The stars are beautiful tonight.

Klaus: Yup.

Diego: You know who else is beautiful?

Klaus: Ben.

#5: Get Out Your Handcuffs Mister

Diego: You’re under arrest… for stealing my heart.

Klaus: Diego you got kicked out of the police academy like five years ago, just give up.

#6: Bad Boys

Diego: *leaning against the doorframe like a moron* So. I hear you like bad boys.

Klaus: Diego you cried because you accidentally stepped on a bee last week.

Diego: Well yeah but -

Klaus: You held a funeral for it. You made us all speak. You had Allison fly in from California. It was a fucking bee, Diego.

Diego: … I wear leather?

Klaus: So does every other kid who shops at Hot Topic. You’re not special.

#7: Prince Charming

Diego: Your knight in shining armor is here -

Klaus: One, that’s a turtleneck, not armor.

Klaus: Two, you’re covered in blood. That’s the opposite of shiny.

Klaus: Three, you smell like dead fish. Go take a shower.

#8: Chemistry

Diego: Did we have a class together? Because I could’ve sworn we had -

Klaus: Chemistry? Yup. Also English and math and foreign languages and history and like every other fucking thing because we grew up in the same sadistic boarding school, Diego.

#9: The Store Can’t Just Give Away Things For Free. That’s A Terrible Way To Run A Business.

Diego: I like your pants.

Klaus: Thanks. I got them out of a dumpster. And yes, you can have them 100% off.

Diego: *voice cracks* Really?

Klaus: No.

#10: Boyfriend Material

Diego: My jeans are made of -

Klaus: You’re wearing leather pants Diego.

Diego: Okay but -

Klaus: So they’re made of leather and they’re not fucking jeans.

#11: Digits

Diego: I lost my phone number. Can I have -

Klaus: None of us have phones, Diego.

Diego: I can… buy us some?

Klaus: Fine. I want my number to be 1-420-420-4201.

Diego: Baby no.

Klaus: *pulling out the puppy dog eyes* Pwetty pwease?

Diego: Fine, but mine’s gonna be 1-696-969-6969.

Klaus: I love you so much. Marry me. Have my babies.

#12: Love At First Sight

Diego: Do you believe in love at first sight or -

Klaus: If I did I’d have already fallen in love with a lot of hot ghosts.

Diego: - should I walk by again?

Klaus: You’ve been pacing for the past ten minutes, Gogo. I think if it was gonna happen it would’ve by now.

#13: You Have Fine Written All Over You

Diego: Are you a parking ticket? Cause -

Klaus: Diego I can’t drive.

#14: His Eyes Are Green Not Blue You Dipshit

Diego: Your eyes are an ocean, and I’m lost at sea.

Klaus: ... can’t you, like, hold your breath forever?

Diego: *blinks* Baby, I love you, but you’re ruining this with our childhood trauma.

Klaus: Well since you’ve refused therapy I just thought this was the next best option.

Diego: I take back what I said about loving you.

#15: Math Is Dumb And I Wish School Would Stop Teaching It

Diego: Are you a forty-five degree angle?

Klaus: Actually, because humans have non-linear body shapes, it’s impossible for their specific angles to be measured -

Diego: Are you high or have you been defiling Five’s books again?

Klaus: *blinks* Why can’t it be both?

Diego: *rethinking life decisions*

#16: Baby I’m All Yours

Diego: Do you have a name?

Klaus: Klaus.

Diego: Or can I call you mine?

Klaus: I mean I prefer “baby”, but sure.

Diego: *super wide eyes* Really?

Klaus: *melts into a puddle of glitter* Yeah, Gogo.

#17: (Not) Bookworms

Diego: Thank god I brought my library card. Cause I’m here to check you out.

Klaus: *through a mouthful of waffles* God isn’t real. We all die and rot beneath the earth to be eaten by maggots. There is no such thing as a higher power.

Klaus: *swallows waffles and takes a really loud slurp of an orange juice and chocolate milk combo*

Klaus: Oh, and the library’s closed for renovations til, like, Christmas so you’re outta luck, sorry.

Diego: I thought you met god? Little girl on a bicycle?

Klaus: Her? Nah, only Satan’s got that much sass. Plus, that wasn’t heaven.

Diego: And you know this how?

Klaus: *squishes Diego’s face with both hands* Think about it. Do you really think dear ol’ dad’s in heaven?

Diego: Can you let of my face please?

#18: Bad Move, Buddy

Diego: Are you a pre-historic fossil? Cause you’re my missing link.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you just call me old?

Diego, backing out of the room slowly: What? No! No of course not! No, obviously no, absolutely not -

Klaus: *releases savage war cry*

Diego: *runs for his goddamn life*

#19: I Rate This 0/10

Diego: Are you from Tennessee? Cause you’re the only -

Klaus: I don’t know where I’m from. I’m an orphan.

Diego: Oh… I know, baby -

Klaus: And the piece of shit that adopted me lived in New York anyway. We’re in New York right now actually. Do you need a geography lesson? I think Pogo’s got a map -

Diego: Klaus.

#20: Oh Shit

Diego: If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?

Klaus:

Klaus: *tears up* I’m nothing?

Diego: Oh no. No no no. No, baby, you’re not nothing, don’t cry, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby - oh my god please don’t cry -

#21: You’ve Got Everything I’m Searching For

Diego: Is your name Google? Because -

Klaus: Diego. For the last time…

Klaus: My name is Kimberly Linda Aerealia Ulysses Saffron Hargreeves the Twenty-Fourth. I don’t know why I need to keep explaining this to you -

Diego, kissing him quiet: You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?

#22: Don’t Make Bets You’ll Lose, Luther.

Diego: Luther bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t talk to the prettiest person here. How do you wanna spend his money?

Klaus: Drugs.

Diego: Baby -

Klaus: *beams* Nah, I’m just kidding. Stuffed giraffes.

Diego: *grins* For Five?

Klaus: *nods* For Five.

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego: He’ll hate them.

Klaus: Exactly. Let’s go.

#23: Deja Vu

Diego: Have we met before?

Klaus: Yes. Obviously. Are you also high?

Diego: No -

Diego: Wait, you’re high?

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: No?

#24: Such An Optimist

Diego: Are you a time traveller?

Klaus: No, that’s Five.

Diego: Cause I think you’re my future!

Klaus: *stares blankly*

Diego: No? Nothing? Nada?

Klaus: In the future we’re all dead dipshit.

Klaus: Because. Ya know.

Klaus: THERE’S A FUCKING APOCALYPSE COMING.

Diego:

Diego: Okay then.

#25: Please Go To The Hospital.

Diego: Are you my appendix? Cause my stomach’s fluttering and I think I should take you out.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you drink water from the fish tank again?

Diego: *turning green* Luther dared me to okay???!!!!

#26: Suicidal Tendencies

Diego: Hey gorgeous -

Klaus: Let me guess. I should drop dead?

Diego: What?! No! Baby -

#27: Infinitely On The Naughty List (And Not The Good Kind Of Naughty List (If There Is One I’m Asexual I Don’t Know))

Diego: Are you Santa Klaus? Cause you make all my wishes come true.

Klaus:

Klaus: You have five seconds to run.

Diego: *already two streets away* Fucking shit -

#28: You Can’t Use That Every Time We Have An Argument, Tony.

Diego: Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist right?

Klaus: I mean, there’s one in the corner of our living room right now, so I guess?

Diego:

Diego: *squeaks* You - you can see dinosaur ghosts?

Klaus: I mean, there’s a chance that thing Ben’s petting is just a super deformed ostrich, but yeah, I think so.

Diego:

Diego: *tearing up* That’s so cool.

#29: A Whole New Kind Of Thirst Trap

Diego: I’m thirsty. But guess whose body is 75% water?

Diego: *smirks*

Klaus: *frowns*

Klaus: Hold on, I know this one…

Diego: Klaus -

Klaus: *snaps fingers* Oh, I know! Luther!

Diego: *horrified* What the fuck Klaus why the fuck would you say that -

#30: What A Tragedy

Diego: You must be a campfire. Because you’re super hot and I want s’more.

Klaus:

Klaus: Diego sweetheart, you’re allergic to marshmallows.

Diego: *tearing up* I know.

Klaus: You wanna hug, baby?

Diego: *crying* Yes please.

#31: That Can’t Be Allowed

Diego: Don’t tell me if you want me to take you out to dinner. Just smile for yes, or do a backflip/somersault/counter-spin gymnastics combination for no.

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: *does a triple flip and lands perfectly on the top of the bar counter*

Diego: *turns bright red* That was h-h-hot.

Klaus: *beams and jumps down into Diego’s arms bridal-style*

Klaus: *kisses his cheek* I know, baby.

#32: Merry Christmas

Diego: You’re the reason Santa started the Naughty List.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: *pouts*

Klaus: No fair! He told me last week I was on the Nice List!

Diego: What? Klaus? What does that -

Diego: OH MY GOD KLAUS IS SANTA DEAD???!!!!

#33: I’ll Keep You Safe, Honey.

Diego: I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me instead?

Klaus: *pulls out a stuffed tiger*

Klaus: He got lost in the kitchen. Don’t worry, I rescued him for you.

Diego: *takes soft tiger*

Diego: *voice cracks* Oh. Thanks.

Klaus: *kisses his forehead* You’re welcome, baby.

#34: Excuse Me?

Diego: The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.

Klaus, internally: Shit. What if he finds out I stole like five of his knives and all of the cookies last week?

Klaus, externally: *blinks*

Klaus: Um… Stefonopolis?

#35: I Am Not Apologizing For This One

Diego: If you were a steak, you’d be well done.

Klaus: But I’m so unique…

Klaus: I talk to the dead, Diego.

Diego: Okay…?

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: So wouldn’t I be medium rare?

Ben: Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

#36: Leonardo Da Vinci Was Arrested Multiple Times For Homosexual Activity.

Diego: Is this a museum? Cause you’re a work of art.

Klaus: *dancing to the soundtrack of High School Musical 3* Actually Five took me back to Italy once. Leonardo da Vinci and I had some fun.

Diego:

Diego: Oh my god. Seriously?

Diego: *looks up picture of Mona Lisa, now titled Mona Klausa*

Diego: How the fuck -

#37: Why Would You Say That Though

Diego: Am I sleepwalking? Cause I’ve only seen you in my dreams.

Klaus: *sitting on the counter and eating a donut in one bite* Are they dirty?

Luther: *chokes on a pickle*

Diego: Oh my god no -

Diego: Well sometimes -

Diego: I mean no of course not -

Luther: *praying to whoever’s up there to just kill him already*

#38: Be Safe Kids!

Diego: Can you hold this for me?

Klaus: Sweetie, you need to wash your hands.

#39: Apocalypse Averted!

Diego: If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I thought that was Vanya.

Diego:

Diego, panicking: Holy shit Klaus you can’t just say things like that -

Vanya: *crying from laughter*

#40: Attractive

Diego: Do you swallow magnets? Because you’re -

Klaus: *shoves him up against the wall*

Klaus: How did you find out? Who told you? Was it Ben? I swear to god I’ll kill him -

Diego: *squeaks* What?

#41: First You’ve Gotta Propose Diego

Diego: Wouldn’t we look cute on a wedding cake together?

Klaus: Diego. Did you buy me a cake?

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: I’m waiting.

Diego: Right sir yes sir right away sir -

#42: He May Not Be A Kitten But He Is As Soft As One

Diego: If I followed you home, would you keep me?

Klaus: I’m homeless, Diego.

Diego: What? You are? Oh no, baby - you can come stay with me?

Klaus: *looks up from Disney Princess coloring book and raises an eyebrow* Is your bed available?

Diego, blushing: Ye-yeah, b-ba-baby. Whe-whenever you-u w-want.

Klaus: *smiles*

Klaus: *takes Diego’s hand*

Klaus: Okay.

Diego: *dies a little bit inside (in a good way)*

#43: It’s Just You.

Diego: Is it hot in here or is it just you?

Klaus, blushing: I -

Five: DIEGO. THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.

#44: ‘Scuse Me, Mate?

Diego: You know, penguins mate for life. Wanna be my penguin?

Klaus: Eh. I’ve always been more of an iguana man.

Diego:

Diego: What?

#45: You Look Like… Antonio Banderas With The Long Hair.

Diego: How’s the most beautiful person in the world doing today?

Klaus: *buried in a Vogue magazine* I don’t know I’m not Antonio Banderas.

#46: What The Fuck Klaus

Diego: Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.

Klaus: *hands him a Candyland board* Here. I stole it from Pogo.

#47: You Dumbass

Diego: I hate my last name. Can I borrow yours?

Klaus:

Klaus: We have the same last name, Diego.

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: Fuck you’re right -

#48: Okay But Diego Would Make A Great Aladdin Though

Diego: I’m not a genie, but I can still make your dreams come true.

Klaus: *wrinkles his nose*

Klaus: You can get me a pink elephant with jaundice?

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: What the fuck Klaus -

#49: HELLO

Diego: Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?

Klaus: I don’t just have random knives on me Diego, I’m not you.

Diego: So you are happy to see me?

Klaus: I mean you just interrupted a very riveting episode of Sesame Street, so… we’ll see.

#50: It’s Always Best To Start With The Truth.

Diego: I love you.

Klaus: *beams* That’s all you had to say, darling.

47 notes · View notes

titleleaf · 2 years

Note

top five obscure(ish) fairy tales, top five jeremy irons filmés, top five nasty little men who are gay icons, top five pieces of jewelry you can think of having seen anywhere, top five pieces of 20th century art, top five songs that make you blubber, top five musicals you're embarrassed to admit to liking (TELL US), top five things david 8 does, top five popular tumblr ships that you fucking hate

obscure fairy tales

The Juniper Tree! Not that obscure but a fav.

The Wise Little Girl -- I had a tape with this story as a child and it mainly made eiderdown sound really fucking good

The title story in Lise Lunge-Larsen's The Troll With No Heart In His Body! This book was a big part of my childhood and is truly atmospheric.

The Boy Who Drew Cats -- like a lot of people I first encountered this one via Lafcadio Hearn. I also love Momotarō and anything where people wish for a baby.

The Valiant Little Tailor/Seven At One Blow

I feel like my Tumblr mutuals are probably Donkeyskin people but that too.

top five jeremy irons filmes you are GENUINELY trying to kill me

Reversal Of Fortune (which makes good use of his "what a creep" factor)

Dead Ringers

Damage

The Merchant Of Venice (this was my first Shakespeare adaptation)

Dungeons & Dragons

top five nasty little men who are gay icons

JOEL CAIRO

CORNELIUS HICKEY

HERBERT WEST

BORIS LERMONTOV THEREDSHOES

MEEEEEEEEE

top five fav pieces of jewelry (restricting this to commercially available jewelry and also GOD DAMN TUMBLR ATE MY LIST)

doll hand pendant, Marina Bychkova

Dürer pendant, Moon & Serpent

"Our Darling" bracelet, Martha Rotten

"Lily Dale" lens pendant, Bloodmilk

"Beyond Is All Abyss" ring, Bittersweets NY

top five pieces of 20th century art (restricting this to stuff that's at the MIA, my local art museum, bc goddamn tumblr ate this too)

"Sandy", Walt Kuhn

"Carcass Of Beef", Chaim Soutine

"Strike Breakers (Company Violence)", Morris Topchevsky

"Fringe", Rebecca Belmore

"The Tea Party", Sylvia Fein

top five songs to make u blubber

"Fancy", Bobbie Gentry

"He Stopped Loving Her Today", George Jones (I'M FURIOUS)

"Cold Missouri Waters", James Keelaghan

"Come, Love, Come", Rhiannon Giddens (cw sexual violence, antiblack racism, slavery)

"A Quitter", Rasputina (cw suicide)

five musicals you're embarrassed to admit to liking (you are COMING for me today god damn)

uhhhhh top of the list is OBVIOUSLY Thrill Me: The Leopold And Loeb Musical

followed by Bare: A Pop Opera

followed by uhhhhhh some parts of Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson LOOK I CAN EXPLAIN no i can't this whole show is like a meanspirited parody of Hamilton before that show even came out

followed by Silence! The Musical

followed by Lestat

top five things david 8 does

ride a bicycle

become very invested in a highly problematic film

wear flip flops

have a big old robot dick that [does/does not] work

kill his fucking dad

top five tumblr-popular ships that I hate

NBC Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, you can keep it now tbh.

Geralt/Jaskier -- I like this fine in the show itself but you know EXACTLY why I'm pissy about it on the internet, lmao.

Anything involving a character played by Bill Hader that isn't Barry Berkman, and even then you are on thin ice

Hades/Persephone, but hating tumblr-style Hades/Persephone is about as popular as the pairing itself.

TSOA-style Achilles/Patroclus (ditto, but I was writing smarmy conflictless backpatty smol achillean bean Achilles/Patroclus before it got big and I'm livid)

bonus round: character x reader of ANY kind, leave me out of it

#more information than you perhaps require #i have no idea how to tag my negativity but i s2g if you like these things you're fine

18 notes · View notes

verai-marcel · 4 years

Text

Do What I Dare (RDR2 Fanfic, Biker AU, Arthur x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You've been dating Arthur for about four months now, and if you hadn't seen that photo of his biker gang, you wouldn't have guessed that he was once an outlaw. He's so gentle, polite, and kind to you that you didn't believe he had a wild side. A picnic out in the hills proves you wrong.

Author’s Notes: Many thanks to @reddeaddufus for this amazing idea! So timeline-wise, this is happening during that six months when Journalist!Reader is still living in her apartment but she and Charles are already together. Cosplay!Reader & Javier got together a couple of weeks before this. And of course, the title is an obscure lyric; try and guess the song!

Tags: outdoor sex, mild exhibitionism, rough sex, dirty talk, some name calling, medium honor Arthur

Find the AO3 link here, sweetheart.

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

Arthur had stopped by as he did every morning before opening, and after hearing that you were opening alone, immediately began helping you set up chairs and tables. He really was a great guy.

Usually Charles was here earlier than you, but this morning his lady friend was feeling ill, so he had texted you to ask if you could open up without him. You hoped everything was okay. At this point, you had met both Charles’ and Javier’s girlfriends and they were both nice people, though their personalities couldn’t be farther apart. One was bold and unafraid while the other was shy and had a bit of social anxiety. They were both fun to hang out with whenever the boys got together to talk about marketing.

While Arthur was handing you the mugs and glasses from the dishwasher so you could put them away, he spoke.

“You free on Sunday?”

“Yup! What’re you planning?” you asked.

“Well, the weather’s s’pposed to be nice, so I thought maybe we’d go on a bike ride up the ridgeway.”

“That sounds awesome! Should we make it a picnic?”

“Sure.” He paused before looking at you a bit shyly. “Can ya make some of those cucumber sandwiches?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” you said happily.

“Thank you.”

You smiled. Arthur had never stopped being polite to you, even after dating him for the past four months. Together, the two of you finished getting everything ready just in time.

“Lookin’ forward to Sunday,” Arthur said as he grabbed his jacket. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as you wrapped your arms around him for a quick hug before he left for work. Watching him go, you smiled as you opened the cafe to the public.

***

The Ridgeway was a scenic road that went north and south through the state, with the most beautiful part being, in your humble opinion, the section nearby that weaved past the lake and through some of the forest east of town. There were several viewpoints along the path for tourists to stop and gawk at the view, but the locals knew that the best part was going off the Ridgeway onto random roads to find secluded dead ends that then led to even better views, untainted by signs and trash.

You were clinging onto Arthur as he wove his way on his Indian Scout motorcycle. Remembering the first time he had shown you his bike, you smiled. At that time, you had been dating for a month and had never seen him drive anything; he had always met you somewhere or you came to his place. When he had asked if you wanted to go on a bike ride, you assumed he had meant a bicycle. Boy, were you wrong. When he had rolled up to your apartment on his matte black motorcycle and handed you a helmet, you had been shocked to your core. And also turned on as all hell; he had been wearing a leather jacket and dark blue jeans, motorcycle boots, and fingerless gloves.

It was the same outfit he was wearing now as the two of you rode up the road, the sound of the motor muffled by the helmet over your head. After a few more twists and turns along the Ridgeway, he finally turned onto an unmarked road that led to a small picnic area. It was originally made by a historical preservation society decades ago, but fell into disuse after a rock slide made the road unusable by car.

A motorcycle, however, could easily wind around the rocks and get past.

Through the trees and the debris the two of you went, until you reached the small clearing at the top of the hill. A small picnic bench with one forgotten trash can and two parking spots were here, along with a gorgeous view of the hills and valleys. You popped your helmet off and practically leapt off the bike, running to the picnic table and clambering on top of it like a kid. Surveying the scenery, you eventually pulled out your phone and took a panoramic photo.

“This is so cool, I didn’t even know about this place!” you squealed with delight.

Arthur chuckled. “Glad you like it, darlin’.”

Hopping down from the table, you took the picnic case from Arthur’s hands and started to help him set up. Tossing the picnic blanket over the table, the two of you laid out your feast: cucumber sandwiches, two beers, summer sausage, a bit of bison jerky, and some grapes.

The two of you ate and chatted, the comfortable air between you two allowing for the occasional pause, the silence filled with contentment. Soon your line of questioning started to veer towards his past, something that he rarely mentioned.

“So, is this the same bike you had in that photo on your wall?”

“Yup.”

After a few moments without him adding anything else, you tried to get some more out of him. “Wow. Would you ever trade it in?”

“Never.”

You tilted your head at him; he was only giving you one word answers and not elaborating. “Should I not ask about your past?”

Arthur sighed. “There were some good times, but in the end, things fell apart and we chose to get out. I still feel… guilty, I guess. We weren’t good people.”

You reached for his hand and held it with both of yours. “But you’re a good man on the inside,” you said quietly. “And you’re doing good now.”

He gave you a crooked grin. “I must be, if you’re stickin’ around.”

You laughed. “I don’t know, maybe I have a thing for bad boys.”

Arthur’s eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

“Yeah, maybe I secretly want a guy who’ll fuck me out in the open, get all raw and wild.” You waggled your eyebrows.

Laughing, Arthur stood up. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” you said with a wink. You stood up as well and helped him clean up. Once everything was back in the picnic case, you took it from him and set it aside. Climbing across the table, you knelt before him and took his head between your hands. “Kiss me.”

Arthur smiled and pulled you off the table and into his lap, your legs straddling his as he tangled his fingers in your hair and pushed your head closer to him. He nibbled your lips lightly at first, delicately playing with you as his other hand reached under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back. His kisses grew deeper as his touch became more insistent; the grip in your hair tightened as he pulled you closer to him, pressing you against his hard chest.

He pulled away and gave you a naughty look before he took hold of the hem of your shirt. "Can I?"

You obediently lifted your arms and let him pull the shirt over your head. He laid it down behind you before gently pushing you down on the table. Bending over to lay kisses along your collarbone, he pulled the cups of your bra down to expose your breasts to the cool air, your nipples hardening. Attracted to the sight, Arthur enveloped one in his mouth while he pinched and pulled gently on the other, making you moan and writhe underneath him.

"Arthur," you sighed as he shifted, making sure both your nipples had equal attention from his talented tongue. Wrapping your legs around him, you pulled him closer to feel his cock straining in his jeans.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around you and picked you up. "I got an idea, sweetheart."

Carrying you to his bike, he set you on your feet and turned you around. You understood what he wanted and felt a flush of heat as he started to undo the fly of your pants. He slowly slid them down your hips, just past the curve of your backside.

"Bend over, darlin'," he crooned. You gladly did so, your tits hanging out over the side of his motorcycle seat. Sticking your ass out for him, you turned your head towards him and gave him a smirk.

“What would you do if I didn’t?” you taunted.

His dark smile made shivers go down your spine as anticipation and lust swirled into your body. Stepping forward, he grabbed your butt with both hands, his fingers digging into your flesh before slapping your ass.

“I’d teach you how to be a good girl,” he rumbled. He slapped the other cheek. “Make sure you learn how to listen.”

“Oh, yes, teach me Arthur,” you purred, wiggling your body. With one hand he pressed you down on the motorbike seat to keep you still as he undid his button fly. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw him standing behind you, pulling out his hard cock and stroking himself as he stepped closer. You could feel him nudging your slit, sliding it back and forth, coating himself in your wetness.

“Goddamn sweetheart,” he murmured. “All this honey fer me?”

You moaned as he pressed forward, the head of his cock stretching you slowly. Grabbing your hips, he kept on entering you until he filled you to the hilt, letting out a soft, low moan of satisfaction. He leaned over and kissed the shell of your ear.

“Just think, someone might come out here and find you, bent over my bike, getting filled with my cock.”

Your pussy tightened around him as you felt a rush of adrenaline.

“Oh yeah, gettin’ excited by that, ain’tcha?”

“Fuck me Arthur,” you half-growled, trying to move your hips towards him.

He chuckled, his hold on you as strong as steel. “I’m in control here, darlin’.” His hips pulled back and snapped forward, his bike shifting ever so slightly from his movement. He reached for your hair, pulling your head back so your back arched beautifully for his pleasure. Moving slowly at first, he built up a steady rhythm, fucking you with just enough control to prevent toppling his bike with the strength of his thrusts.

“Yer a dirty girl, gettin’ so hot from being fucked in the open,” he crooned.

You were surprised at how aroused you were from this. The risk of being caught like this shot adrenaline through your body, giving you an incredible high. The thought of someone catching you in such a compromising position while you were getting railed like a whore over the seat of a motorcycle by a real biker outlaw was sexy, like a porn fantasy come to life. Your tits were bouncing and your juices were dripping down your thighs as your cries of pleasure echoed in the forest. His hands wandered, grabbing your neck, gripping your hips and fondling your breasts. And through it all, his cock kept hammering into you, a steady reminder that you were completely at his mercy and you loved it.

Suddenly Arthur brought his hand down against your ass again, making you yelp.

“Fuck, I love it when you squeeze my cock whenever I spank ya.”

You turned towards him. “Now you’re just doing that for fun.”

“Have to keep you in line somehow.”

You grinned and pushed your ass back at him, causing him to stop moving.

“Arthur!” you whined.

“Fuck yerself on me if you want it so bad,” he said with a mocking grin.

You growled but did as he said, undulating your hips, grinding down on his shaft and slowing your pace, letting him feel every inch of your tight channel as you slid forward and back on him. You felt a thrill of victory when he finally grabbed your hips and thrust inside of you, taking control of the speed again.

“Yer drivin’ me crazy,” he grunted as he leaned forward, crushing you against the bike seat. He reached around, rubbing your clit with an expert touch. He had gotten intimately familiar with your body in the past few months and knew exactly how to push you to your peak. Each stroke made your heart race, made your breath come out in labored gasps as he made you feel a blinding pleasure with each stroke of his fingers.

“Come fer me, darlin’,” he murmured into your ear. “I’m goin’ to fill you when you do.”

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as you felt your climax hit you like a gust of wind, taking you higher and higher as you cried out, only to have Arthur wrap a hand around your mouth to stifle your screams. You kept moaning, your sounds muffled as he continued to fuck you, faster and faster, until your body was shaking from being kept on the brink for so long.

Arthur let out a low moan as he came inside of you, filling you as he promised. He let his weight crush you against the leather seat as he caught his breath, for he knew you enjoyed the heaviness of his body every once in a while.

After a few moments, he stood up, his cum spilling out as he pulled himself out of you. “Darlin’, you alright?”

“I’m good. Better than good. That was so hot.”

He laughed. “Better keep that inside of ya,” he said, pulling a bandana from his jacket and wiping your mixed juices from your inner thigh. “Don’t wanna get my bike dirty,” he said with a wink.

You slapped his arm as you laughed and pulled your clothes back on. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

He could only laugh with you as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you gently. “It’s all I could think of. Forgive me if I ain’t able to think properly right now.”

“I forgive you," you said, tapping his nose playfully. "Now should we go back? We probably should take a shower.”

“And then round two?” he asked with a hopeful look.

You giggled. “If you’re feeling… up to it.”

“With you? Always.”

The two of you rode back down the Ridgeway, content and happy. You snuggled into his warm back, your arms wrapped around his waist, and blissfully enjoyed the view.

When the two of you returned to your apartment, while he was helping you put away the picnic gear, he chuckled softly.

“What is it?” you asked, curious.

“Was jus’ thinkin’ we should go ridin’ more often, since it gets you all hot and bothered like this.”

You just laughed as you stripped off your clothes to give him round two.

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

End Notes: The fic title is a lyric from I Feel Like A Woman by Shania Twain! The scenery was very much inspired by my visit to Asheville, North Carolina a long time ago. The Blue Mountain Ridgeway was absolutely gorgeous, definitely worth a visit. Hope you enjoyed this hot little story! With this part, this series is over. Thank you for your support!

#arthur x fem!reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #biker au #writing #fanfic #lemon fanfic #nsft #modern au

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365days365movies · 3 years

Text

February 16, 2021: Carol (2015) (Part 1)

...Harold...

Yeah, I had to do this one. Partially because I knew about this film previously, as it was kind of a smash hit when it came out in theaters. It was about as big of a deal as Blue is the Warmest Color, which...we might get there. But, yeah, Carol was already on my radar when I decided to dip into LGBT cinema.

But also...you can thank my girlfriend again. There she is (as she’s choosing to represent herself through GIF form) below.

We love The Owl House. Anyway, I wasn’t aware of the meme until we were watching a movie, and she just screamed “HAROLD THEY’RE LESBIANS!” And after doing some research on that statement...that’s goddamn hilarious. And it all started with Carol, so the writing’s basically on the wall there.

Here’s what I know. This movie stars Cate Blanchett...OK, that’s it! Shall we find out more firsthand? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

In New York City, a man enters a bar and restaurant, where he sees an old acquaintance, Therese Belivet (Rooney Mara), who is having dinner with another woman, Carol Aird (Cate Blanchett). And, uh, lemme just say, we’re jumping off RIGHT away, and my girlfriend immediately starts screaming “HAROLD” at the screen.

Anyway, Jake invites her to a party with mutual friends, and Carol and Therese end their dinner date early. As Therese looks out of the window of a car on the way to the party, she thinks backwards through time, and takes us with her. FLASHBACK

Therese wakes up one morning around Christmastime, only to see her boyfriend, Richard Semco (Jake Lacy), ready to take her to work on a bicycle though Central Park. They talk about going to Paris on vacation, an idea about which Therese seems nonchalant. Therese works at Frankenberg’s, a department store that doesn’t exist. As is typical of the season in NYC, shoppers and their children flood the place. We went there on Christmas of 2019, and I grew up in the area. Trust me when I say Christmas in NYC is FUCKIN’ NUTS.

Therese works at the toy counter, and that’s when Carol arrives to get a doll for her daughter. Unfortunately, they’re out of the doll she’s looking for, so Therese offers a model train set to her instead, and the two hit it off basically immediately. And when I say hit it off, they HIT IT OFF. Like...the chemistry is IMMEDIATE. Maybe that’s Cate Blanchett’s pure charisma, but I’m just saying...they have the fastest chemistry establishment that I’ve seen yet.

But oh no! Carol’s forgotten her gloves! However, it doesn’t seem like much results from that, as the work day is soon over, and Therese and Richard go to a movie and a beer with friends Phil (Nik Pajic) and Danny McElroy (John Magaro). That night, having returned home, Therese looks at Carol’s gloves. Using information obtained during the department store visit, she mails the gloves to Carol, at her gorgeous mansion.

Carol is combing her daughter’s hair, as her husband Harge Aird (Kyle Chandler) arrives home with the mail. Things seem somewhat amiss, as Carol seems extremely unhappy. She later calls her at the department store to thank her for the gloves, and offers to buy her lunch that afternoon. She agrees, and the two head to a nice restaurant.

Over the course of the meal, it’s revealed that Carol and Harge are going through a divorce (yeah, that tracks), and Therese’s conflicted on how she feels about her relationship with Richard. Carol invites her to come over at some point, and she agrees.

Later on, while in traffic in the car of a friend, Abby Gerhard (Sarah Paulson), she seems to acknowledge potential attraction between her and Therese, although it’s not exactly set in stone. She heads to a party that evening. Meanwhile, she visits her friend Danny, an aspiring writer, who inquires about her hobby of photography, and then...kisses her...even though she’s dating a friend. Fuckin’ OH BOY, DANNY.

Harge takes Carol home, and he’s 100% still in love with her, and she’s just not feeling it. This may be related to the fact that she and Abby were also once a couple. Yeah. Harge is aware of this, and they were DEFINITELY a romantic couple in the past, which means...yeah, Carol’s a straight-up lesbian, it would seem. Harge says it “shouldn’t be like this,” and it’s not clear whether that refers to Carol’s attraction to women, or the divorce in general. It is the 1950′s, after all.

OH WAIT. Forgot to mention that, didn’t I? This film takes place in the 1950s, I think? Hasn’t been made super clear as of yet, but the aesthetic is certainly the 1950s, without much doubt. The next day, Carol goes to pick Therese up, and meets Richard. Richard tells Therese he loves her as they depart. Therese doesn’t return the sentiment. FUCKIN’ OOF.

As the two drive through Lincoln Tunnel together, their dialogue is quieted, and we get some interesting close-up shots of their eyes, lips, faces. And it’s definitely meant to suggest something more physical, something without words. In other words...Harold’s wife is starting to get the idea. Harold’s not quite there yet, though.

Carol and Therese go to Carol’s home in New Jersey, where she meets her and 4-year old Harge’s daughter, Rindy, who Carol obviously loves VERY much. That night, Therese plays the piano, and also shares her passion for photography with Carol. Carol shows interest in her hobby, when Harge suddenly shows up to take Lindy unexpectedly for Christmas with his family, away from her.

The argument that this results in quickly envelops Therese, as Harge confronts Carol about her presence there. The ending result, though, is that Carol is forced to let Rindy leave early with Harge. And yeah, it’s sad for her. Harge, on the other hand, is being an absolute dick. The two have a verbal and PHYSICAL argument outside, which Therese partially overhears.

As an apology for bringing Therese into this marital struggle, Carol gives her a ride to the train station, so she can make her way home that night. On the train, Therese cries. Is this because of Harge, because of Carol, because of a struggle with her own feelings? I’m honestly not sure. And it’s a good question.

Carol seems to believe that it’s because of her, though, as she turned her away somewhat abruptly. However, she quickly tries to make up for it by calling and apologizing. Therese says that she has questions for her, and Carol is more than willing to answer them. The next day, Carol goes down to her divorce attorney’s office, only to discover that Harge is trying to take away ALL of Carol’s custody.

And the reason for it? You guessed it! Carol’s a lesbian! Sooooooo, FUCK HARGE!!! With this otion, Carol won’t be able to see Rindy for several months, which hurts her greatly. Again, fuck Harge, he’s a dick who’s taking away Carol’s joy and time with her daughter solely because Carol isn’t attracted to him. GODDAMN, that absolutely sucks.

Meanwhile, Therese’s struggling with her own feelings, some of which may be for Carol, and actually STRIGHT-UP asks Richard his opinions on the origins of homosexuality. He believes that it can’t just happen like heterosexual love, which...I mean, 1950s, what can I tell ya, it wasn’t great. He point-blank asks her if she’s in love with a girl, and she says no, and leaves him in the street in a huff. And real talk, I feel bad...for Richard. Therese, too, but dude is genuinely in head-over-heels with Therese, and is just NOT getting the hint.

Carol and Abby go to have lunch, where Carol breaks the news. They share tenderness, as they have in the past, and Abby’s pretty clearly out of the closet, as much as one can be in the 1950s. Also, quick aside to note that Sarah Paulson rules...and moving on.

Carol then visits Therese, and gives her new camera equipment as a kind gesture. Carol shares with her the news of the struggle with her husband, and says that she’s going on a trip, to get away for a while. She invites Therese to come with her, quite spontaneously, and Therese equally spontaneously says yes! Fuckin OOOOOOOF to Richard, goddamn.

Also, exactly the halfway point! See you in Part 2!

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