#suffers from never shutting the fuck up disease

[cometrose]

one of my favorite things about zhongli is that he doesn’t shut up like i know we like to compare him to neuvillette and alhaitham but zhongli is like inverse of their signature traits. social awkwardness? quiet and reserved? zhongli does not care he will talk like he understands liyue’s social customs very well he just does what he wants. like yeah he’s calm and reserved but he’s not quiet and he enjoys socializing with humans like it’s one of his favorite things to do. the people of liyue describe as someone who is a little odd but very helpful and knowledgeable so he understands people and he seems pretty good at reading their intentions and behaviors so yeah he’s weird but he’s very popular cause he’s always doing shit

tldr zhongli is a yapper he will talk about anything and everything if you give him a chance he does not care if it’s weird or socially unconventional

#my post #zhongli #genshin impact #he’s a little empty headed idk #like he just likes people and talking to be people #like there’s probably some level of social awkwardness but it’s not #like i know every region got their ‘zhongli’ but listen the dude never shut ups #like i remember during lantern rite their is some chinese customs about who sits at the table or who performs certain tasks #even though zhongli says he’s not as important as hutao or xiao he still acts like the leader of the discussion and the table #like he probably knows the rules he just messes up or doesn’t care #remember when he was so interested in listening to xinyan’s music he invited her to perform at a funeral parlor #bro does not care he wants to indulge himself in his nation #suffers from never shutting the fuck up disease #he just doesn’t talk about himself #i mean all of them are pretty talkative in their own way #althaitham is wordy as hell but only when he wants to be #like i did his story quest recently #ooh blah blah blah academic dishonesty no integrity just a lot

[draisaitleons]

looking at your recently visited whilst you're writing a fic is such a demeaning situation . like girl why have you googled ryan graves six times in the last hour . why can you not retain information .

#tbd #i suffer from never shutting the fuck up disease #me and matthew both #lucy writes

[chuuya4040]

Imagine if Chuuya and Dazai in the PM days had accidentally gotten themselves on wanted posters that were plastered across for all of Yokohama to see.

Wanted posters weren’t unnecessarily uncommon within the Port Mafia. Usually it was low level grunts, who had the misfortune of having an unflattering photo of themselves plastered across the city, all for the citizens to walk past and be wary of. However, it was of utmost importance that high level mafia personnels remain anonymous to ensure that they never get recognised by the public.

“I think they really captured your angry, chibi face and ugly red hair well, don’t you think?”

However, two teenage boys happened to break this rule.

“Hah?! That looks nothing like me or my hair, it looks like some sewer rat!”

“Exactly my point, it is accurate!”

Two teenage boys who happened to also be the most dangerous duo in the underworld.

“Fuck off! Yours looks like you don’t have basic hygiene and haven’t even showered in days– oh wait, that’s actually true!”

“Hmph, I’d say the rough look they’ve given me gives me charm.”

“Yeah, a charm that says stay ten feet away from this man unless you want to catch a disease.”

Both boys yell at each other on a busy street in the city, screaming obscenities and accusations of their appearance to one another only growing louder and louder by the minute.

Each of them had been horrified by their own posters when they stumbled upon them on their way back from a mission. Whoever the artist was, clearly did not have a good eye for this profession.

Chuuya rips the poster off the wall, nearly ripping it in half in the process. “That looks nothing like me, just watch” he declares and approaches the first person he sees.

“Excuse me,” the redhead stops an elderly lady, a sweet faux smile on his face, “my.. friend thinks this looks like me, would you agree?”

The older woman blinks for a few moments, dazed by the random interaction and narrows her eyes at the poster before shaking her head “Oh, no you look nothing like that person!”

Chuuya looks at Dazai with a victorious smirk, his mind already forming of how he can make the bandaged bastard suffer.

He claimed his victory too quickly it seemed.

She continues with a small chuckle, “you’re just a sweet little thing aren't you?” The elderly woman coos, “you could possibly never look that menacing!” She fondly says, pinching his cheeks.

An uncontrollable giggle bursts out behind him, the gross (heavenly) noise reverberating in Chuuya’s brain and a constant reminder of his humiliation. His cheeks grew warm and red as his own hair, and in that moment with the woman's innocent smile and his partner's evergrowing giggle, he wished the earth would swallow him whole.

“And what about me?~” Dazai muses, a splitting grin on his face, a face that knows he has won.

The woman steps closer to investigate the poster, her eyebrows narrowing in question before they rise on her forehead and she turns pale. “Oh.. oh yes that does look like you. How strange..”

Dazai’s mouth hangs open in bewilderment, and a hearty, uncontrollable laugh bounces off the walls of the city.

Hushed tears blur the redhead's vision as he watches the elderly woman apologize and swiftly make her exit at the realization of who they are.

“Y-you.. You must be mistaken! Please, I definitely look more handsome than this, just look at me!” Dazai yells out after her, despair and horror clinging onto his voice as he watches her disappear into the busy crowd.

The brunet rounds on his partner, irritation leaking in his single eye when he yells, “what are you laughing at?! You are so small she thought you were a child!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Chuuya yells, annoyance dancing through his veins before he huffs in resignation. He begins walking towards headquarters, leaving before a dazed partner before blurting, “don’t sweat it, yeah? You look good half the time anyways.” Checkmate, Chuuya thought.

“Chuu–.. Chuuya, Chuuya! What do you mean by that? Is the slug finally admitting his undying love for me?!”

“Shut. Up!”

If years later they now have those exact wanted posters in a small frame in their shared apartment, that is no one’s business to know except their own.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd fic #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #soukoku #skk #mini fic #crack #crack skk #port mafia #pm skk #skk fic #teen skk #my lil sillies

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986

Time moved at a snail's pace when I finally crawled into bed after throwing up until there was simply nothing left to come out.

My mind was just a never-ending vortex of the disaster I created, and the vertigo was so intense that it made me physically sick. I had heaved and heaved, leaving me with an intense stomachache and a raw throat.

It felt like an eternity had passed when in reality it was probably only an hour or two of staring at the ceiling. I could feel everything so intensely; the air felt too heavy, the room felt too dark, the silence was deafening, my head throbbed, my stomach burned, and I couldn't fucking sleep because of it. That, and the fact that I was quite literally killing my husband, the image of how sick and heartbroken he was, branded into my mind.

I wished that I could take this all back, and have things go back to the way they were. I wished that I could erase not only the pain that I felt but the pain that I was inflicting on him, too. It was affecting him more than it was affecting me, that much was obvious.

With a huff, I rolled over and took hold of Noah's pillow, tucking myself into a ball as I clutched it to me. I imagined that it was him as I breathed in the remanence of his cologne, holding it so tight as if I could will this back into existence.

There was a pressure behind my eyes, and my cheeks were suddenly warm and damp as the past images continued to flash before me. All the good, all the bad. I was crying again, though no sounds came out of me. I was so sick of crying, I just wanted to sleep—I needed to distract myself somehow.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand, shutting my eyes for a moment as the light from the screen shot daggers through my head. I peeked one eye open and unlocked my phone, dialing the only person I felt I could still call at 2 in the morning.

"You bitch—" "I'm killing Noah," I whimpered into my phone. I didn't even let Vic finish her usual greeting whenever I called her in the middle of the night. I hear rustling on the other end, and I know she's rolling her eyes as she sits up in bed. "You know that's my job, Liv," she humors, but I don't laugh. "What did he do this time?" I sniffle, screwing my eyes shut as fresh tears spring in my eyes. "Vic, I'm not joking. He's sick." "What do you mean sick?"

I don't say anything as my lips tremble. I can't. I knew the second the name of that disease made it out of my mouth, I'd be inconsolable.

"No," she breathes. "Olivia, no, it can't be that. I know how much you love him." I sucked in a choppy breath, shaking my head. "He showed me the flowers, Vic," I whispered. "He's sick—suffering—a-and it's all my fault. And he left because of it." I hear her curse under her breath. "Where is he now?" "Nick's," I croaked, "and all I fucking see when I close my eyes is him hacking, struggling to breathe as he closed the door." "Just give him time, Liv. He'll come back, I swear to you," she tries, her voice quivering. I knew the tone in her voice—she was not only trying to convince me, but herself, too.

-

JANUARY 29

I woke up this morning to a pounding headache, the constant buzzing of my phone under my face from how I had fallen asleep like a fucking chainsaw inside my skull. I knew I was being flooded by a multitude of 'Happy Birthday' texts; I was officially 29, on the 29th.

I scrolled through my messages and threw my phone down on the mattress with a huff, telling myself I'd get back to thanking them eventually. None of them were from the one person I wanted to hear from the most, but that was to be expected—it's been nearly a month since I've talked to Noah, why would my birthday make it any different?

I did what I've been doing every morning since he left. Wake up, lie in bed until it was nearly time for me to get to the bakery, force myself up, and swallow some Advil and Tums to rid the hangover-induced headache and nausea. Throw on whatever clean clothes that I had, put my hair in a bun, and go my merry way. I'd have coffee and breakfast at work.

When I walked into work shortly after noon, I was met by pink and white streamers twisted and strung from the ceiling, and an archway of balloons of the same color scheme. Holly and Juliana made their way around the counter as they sang 'Happy Birthday', a small cake in hand adorned with a sparkler rather than a candle.

I laughed, shaking my head at them, and accepted the cake. "You didn't have to do all this." "But we wanted to, Liv," Juliana states, giving me a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder. "We've noticed that you seemed a little distant lately and just wanted to show you that we care. Besides, it's your birthday! Everyone deserves cake on their birthday."

My heart sank a tad at how obvious it was that I wasn't doing well, my eyes dropping to the sparkler burning lower and lower as the seconds ticked by. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it," I feigned a smile, blowing out the flame as I made a wish that I was doubtful would come true—do wishes even count on sparklers? I brought my gaze back up to the girls, motioning the cake towards the back. "Let's dig in. I'm starving."

We each cut ourselves a slice of cake, all the while being asked if I had any plans with Noah for my birthday. I hid my cringe with a huge mouthful of cake, nodding my head 'yes', even though I didn't. Before they could question me any further, I told them I had some extra work to do, and took my breakfast to my office.

I shut the door, hastily tossing the paper plate on my desk before collapsing into my chair with a huff. I never mentioned anything to the girls—as far as they knew, everything was peachy keen in my marriage. I just wasn't ready to explain the situation to them, not fully understanding what the fuck was going on myself.

All I knew was that he was sick because of me, and I felt nothing but guilt because of that. I never meant for this to happen, I never wanted this to happen, and I wasn't sure if we were going to try to make this work again. Hell, I wasn't even sure if he was ever going to speak to me again. The uncertainty of that made my heart race and my stomach churn.

And churn.

And churn.

The next thing that I knew, I was puking in the wastebasket that I had under my desk. My eyes immediately watered; tears slid down my face as I spit, trying to clear the acrid taste that sat on my tongue.

With a sniffle, I sat up and wiped under my nose when I was sure that I was done vomiting. This was the third time I've gotten sick in the past week, and I had no idea what the reasoning behind it was. The flu? Stress? Drinking too much? Probably the latter.

Either way, it was exhausting, and I just wanted to go home and back to bed. I couldn't, though; I had a job to do.

I ran my now sweaty hands down my thighs and clambered out of my chair, throwing the cake out and tying the trash bag before leaving my office. I threw it in the barrel, washed my hands, and finally made my way back out to the floor, stopping dead in my tracks when I saw my best friend standing there. Smug expression, arms folded over her chest and all.

I immediately ran around the counter, pulling her into a tight hug now that her arms were welcoming me in. "What the Hell are you doing here?" I practically yelled as we bounced side to side on our feet, giggling. "Bitch, it's your birthday," she says, placing her hands on my shoulders to look at me. "Noah's being a ding-dong, so I'm taking my girl out to celebrate." I laughed lightly, shaking my head. "It's me that's being the ding-dong, Vic. Not him." She rolls her eyes exasperatedly, her head following suit with a scoff. "Okay, so you're both ding-dongs, whatever. Let's go," she cocks her head towards the front door, beckoning me to follow her.

I furrow my brows and put my arms out, palms up while taking a gander around the bakery. "I can't just leave work, Vic. I got shit to do; baking, start of inventory, paperwork—" She holds her hands up in surrender, "Okay, Suzi Q, I get it. I'll just...hang out at your place, I guess. Keys?" She then holds her hand out, folding her fingers to her palm. "You are unbelievable," I chuckle, shaking my head at her. I unclip my set of keys from my belt loop, sliding just the house key off the ring, and press it into her hand. "Don't lose it, and don't lock me out of my own home. Help yourself to whatever, the spare bedroom is available if you want to nap—" She waves me off, "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you in a bit." "I hate you." She winks with a smirk plastered on her face, "Love you, too."

After she had left, I went to the back to take care of what needed to be done, eager to get out as soon as possible to see what it was that Vic had planned.

When I got home, I was met by a bouquet of roses on the kitchen island, peppered with baby's breath. The vase they sat in was beautiful; it stood at least a foot and a half tall, crystal clear with golden vines wrapping around its body, and up and over the lip. I smiled softly with a shake of my head, astonished.

"You didn't have to buy me these, Vic!" I called out, not knowing where she was. I heard her footsteps against the linoleum shortly thereafter, turning to see her rubbing her eyes. She must've taken that nap, after all. "I didn't," she denies through a loud yawn. "Ruffles stopped by to deliver them." I scrunch my face in skepticism, jerking my head back slightly. "Nick bought me flowers for my birthday?" She shrugs, another yawn escaping her. "I think there's a card."

Sure enough, there was a white envelope placed delicately between the flowers. I carefully plucked it from where it sat, reading my name written in messy cursive on the front—I recognized the handwriting immediately. I took a sharp inhale, nearly dropping it while my heart hammers in my chest and my hands shake with nerves.

I opened the envelope and saw there was not only a card, but a flash drive tucked in it. I pulled the items out and began to read the card.

Happy Birthday, Love

I know things between us aren't the way they used to be, but I still want you to enjoy your birthday. I know that flowers don't make up for what I put you through, but I at least hope they put a smile on your face. I know they're your favorite.

I'm sorry that I haven't been home or called you, it's been difficult for me to comprehend all of this. Just know that not a day has gone by where I haven't thought of you.

I don't know where my head is at. I don't know what's to come of us, but one thing I do know is how much I love you. Don't forget that. Please.

-Your dweeb, Noah

P.S. Listen to the song on the flash drive whenever you're able to, or ready to. It's not finished, but I think you should hear it.

"I can't believe he remembered," I whispered, shaking my head. "He doesn't even like celebrating birthdays." I clutched the flash drive in my hand, curling my fist to my chest as I continued to read his note over and over again until the words blurred, my eyes filling with tears. I feel the card slip from my fingers, knowing Vic took it so she could read it, too.

"Damn," she breathes after a minute. "Of course he'd remember your birthday. He really loves you, Olivia—" "I fucked up," I whimpered, shaking my head incredulously as the tears fell from my eyes. "I've been so goddamn selfish." She plants her hands on my shoulders, having me look at her. "None of that, Liv. Your feelings are valid." "But I'm killing him, Vic!" I hollered, shouldering her hands off of me and taking a step back. "Then fix it." I scoffed, clapping my hands against the sides of my thighs in exasperation. "I-I can't just make myself fall back in love with him. That's not how that works—" "Then you have to let him try," she says sternly, folding her arms over her chest. "Because you know damn well that boy has been, but you're too stubborn to accept it. Too stubborn to accept that you both have had your lives change from moving across the country, and that you need to adapt to it. His career is just as hard on him, as it is on you."

I drop my gaze from her, bringing my attention back to the flash drive in my hand as I soaked in her words. "No more overthinking, no more planting fake scenarios in your head, and no more drinking.” I feel my heart skip a beat, shame making its way in. "I haven't been drinking," I mumbled a lie, spinning the plastic in my hands. "Cut the shit." She tips my head towards her by my chin, her hazel eyes fierce as they locked with mine. "You think I didn't notice the bottles by the recycling? I know damn well those aren't Noah's."

My eyes burn with fresh tears, my throat aches from trying not to cry. This was so fucking humiliating; being called out for all of your faults by your best friend, on your birthday, of all days. She was right, thought. I had to start accepting things for what they really are, I had to stop feeling sorry for myself, I had to stop drinking.

"I'm sorry Olivia," I feel Vic's thumbs swipe across my cheeks as she sighs. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I love you, and I can't watch my best friend fall apart again. It had to be said." "You're right," I nodded in her hands, not realizing I had been sobbing. "I gotta fix this."

Noah

I settled into the couch in the living room, wrapped in a large fleece blanket with a steaming cup of chamomile tea. I leisurely sipped at the tea, hoping it would calm my nerves a bit to take some pressure off my chest.

My chest was exceptionally tight today, the flowers spreading in my lungs accompanied by the apprehension I felt from sending Nicholas to my house with a bouquet of roses for Olivia.

It's been almost a month since I've seen her, and I wanted so badly to go home so that I could, but I was too afraid of what would unfold if I had. I was too winded to reason with her—it was hard enough trying to record the snippet of a song for her, nevermind the possibility of an argument after climbing the front steps, as small as they were. Breathing had become that difficult.

I heard the front door open, Nick making his way back in after the small task I gave him. "How you feeling?" he asks, shouldering off the light jacket he wore, hanging it up. I shrugged, "About the same." We're quiet for a beat as he joins me on the couch. "How is she?" "She wasn't home, but Vic was there. That was awkward to say the least," he snorts, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and leaning into the couch some. I let out the start of a chuckle, a round of coughs crashing over it.

I sat up quickly and put my tea on the table, already knowing what was to come as sharp pains shot through my ribs, my muscles strained from the amount of coughing I've been doing. I was genuinely surprised that I hadn't broken a rib yet like last time.

Even though I already knew what was coming, I never got used to the way my lungs burned as the flowers made their way out. The tiny thorns that accompanied the petals was the worst part, clawing into my throat as I coughed and coughed. I grabbed a tissue off the table, cupping my mouth to catch what I expelled.

Exhausted, I collapsed back against the cushions, my lungs rattling as I heaved, and tears welled in my eyes from the pain. I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to handle this—at this point, I was ready to ingest Roundup. Maybe that would kill the flowers growing inside me.

Nick takes the tissue from my hand, replacing it with the tea that I nearly forgotten. I gave him a weak smile in thanks as he stands. "You hungry? I can make you some soup or something." I shake my head 'no', and he rolls his eyes. "Too bad. You haven't been eating. You need to eat, dude." "Fine," I grumbled.

My phone chimes in my pocket, and with a huff I dug it out. I nearly drop it, reading the message across the screen.

Olivia: Thank you for the roses, they're beautiful.

It was such a short, simple message, but my heart swelled reading it. I smiled wide; it was like a huge weight being lifted off my chest finally hearing from her. I felt like I could breathe a little easier.

Me: of course, love. i hope youre having a good birthday

Olivia: I am. This helped

"What's got you so happy?" Nick asks, and I hear the humor laced in his voice. I couldn't help the stupid grin on my face, reading our three texts over and over again. He hands me the chicken noodle soup that he heated for me, his eyebrow perked in curiosity. "She texted me." "I knew she would," he grins, clapping his hand on my shoulder and giving me a little shake. "Looks like there's another text." I looked down at my phone, and sure enough there was another message from Liv.

Olivia: Please come home soon. I miss you.

|Chapter 16|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #fanfic writing #romance #fantasy #quandary #noah sebastian x oc

[aziraphales-library]

Any stories for like the book, radio, musical or movie versions of good omens??

I just had to ask here cuz I've been told this is a great place to find stories. Anyway hopefully the fandom hasn't left the other versions high and dry

I can't find any Good Omens musical fics, but we have a plentiful #book omens tag you can check out. Here are some radio and movie script fics for you...

Psychology and Deduction by myfinejacksauce (G)

Crowley and Aziraphale dress up for Halloween and suffer a little intentional miscommunication. (Based on Radio Omens)

Hate How Much I Love You by KannaOphelia (T)

Five times Movie Script!Crowley tried to confess his feelings to Aziraphale, and one time Aziraphale actually seemed to understand.

Rewritten: Stay by UnproblematicMe (M)

Set in the 1992 Movieverse of Good Omens After Crowley almost abandoned him in the face of the impending apocalypse, Aziraphale tries to build a life without the demon. But this is easier said than done.

you'll never get rid of me- i'm like a fucking disease! by gabrieros (M)

this is the part where i shut up and let you infest my brain... but its ok! it's a strategy to ensure i remain!

This Bibliophilic Greed by KannaOphelia (T)

Four times Crowley attempts to buy a book.

All Tied Up with String by RiYuYami (T)

The quiet calm of hearing nothing from Heaven and Hell was a clear sign that they were going to contact them eventually, and Aziraphale and Crowley knew they only had one chance to make sure that they get out of it without facing the worst of the worst. Maybe a little help from a witch and the Antichrist can get them out of this impending punishment.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #radio omens #1992 movie script #mod d

[biblicallyaccurateangeloncrack]

Genshin and hsr characters as pinned messages (out of context) from discord servers with my friends: a shitpost

(uhhh cw some nsfw jokes and cuss words)

wriothesley: "i do not want an alpha transformation happening rn "

march to danheng: "my coquette lungs are better than your emo lungs"

hu tao: *ghostly voice* "oooooogly boogly why'd you skadoodly me?"

xiao, learning how to spell: "i lvove elmo music"

childe: "he is in my feet"

klee: "yeah my grandma's actually kim kardashian"

bronya to cocolia when she got sick as a kid: "Mother please carry me outside before to see the sky one last time before the consumption takes hold of my body and soul"

hu tao: " "weenis", said eerily"

bennett: "THE SANDWHICH TOOK ME OUT"

blade: "that link is longer than my plans for the future"

serval: "i pledge allegiance to the american bra"

itto: "i am in heat growls the summer has come and i am in heat growls"

zhongli: "*old man voice* when i was your age i fought kids"

stelle/caelus: "when i was my age i eated drywall"

fu xuan: "JING YUAN ILL SNIPPERS YOU UP IF YOU DONT STOP WITH THIS GOOBEROUS SHIT"

diluc, about venti: "i like to prentend he was a fever dream i came with at 4am"

fréminet, trying to speak french: "they said Lyney tu dumbass"

sampo: "I think Luka would beat up Luka while Luka watches. and then Luka would join in and beat the living daylight out of Luka"

silver wolf, about blade: "ppl with lactose intolerance boutta have their 2nd period ongomg"

kayea and rosaria: "we're a match made in the deep dark depths of the abyssal caves in fuck knows where"

jingliu: "am i.........one of those queers........."

yanquing: "shout-out to my home dawg Charles aka history teacher for dropping this wisdom on me"

shinobu: "itto if you say anything penis related you are banned"

ayaka as a kid: ""please take me to the garden so that way i can see the shining sun for the last time before my frail body decomposes with the disease known as ligma""

lyney: "imagine Neuvillette seeing a bunch of orphans blow up infront of him"

yoimiya: "are you really friends if you dont have matching vagina bracelets ??"

wriothesley: "My name is actually marlinus maximilianus Merlin guys"

caelus/stelle: " *bites your toes playfully* "

Pompom: "i eat gender for dinner"

xiao: "is life without endless pain and suffering only for it all to end leaving nothing but emptiness and all your suffering being just for the entertainment of the entity that we call god. an entity who is the real reason as to why we humans end up hurting others, for pain and suffereing is nothing but an endless spiral no matter how hard you try."

kafka, messing with blade: "do you like the gay foot"

yanfei: "YOU CANT LET IT GO LET IT GO YOUR WAY OUT OF A RESTRAINING ORDER"

kokomi: "DEMENTED DOLPHIN"

Furina: "they oui oui'd me"

shenhe: "the cld never bothered me anywa......."

kiara: "agressive meow"

ganyu: "are you a tree cause i wanna eat you"

dainsleif: "while youre kissing you bf or whatever ill be watching in the walls"

venti: "I FART ON PLANES"

scaramouche: "childe I will shave you bald"

itto: "perry plaptypussy"

seele, in response to hook's drawing: "10/10 Einstein could never"

razor, to bennett: "I WILL LICK YOU TO SLEEP"

sucrose, about to collect more bones: "*deranged loud breathing*"

kequing, to half of liyue: "SHUT UP COLOR WHEEL"

cyno: "genderfluid people's favorite song is liquid smooth"

kequing: "the feminine urge to beat up your coworkers with a stick"

dehya: "i piss on biphobes" kaveh: "but what if they have a piss kink..."

albedo: "he looks like a failed science project"

baizhu: "blowjob? nah, blownose"

silver wolf: "story time, honkai star rail made me leave my brother at a gas station and i do not regret SHIT"

blade: "if i end this year without killing myself its a miracle"

columbina: "btw dead bodies take less space if you bury them like theyre standing up"

zhongli: " *cracks back and walks away leaving a trail of dust behind"

@muachiro @geetkk @veimwah @etherific @zohakutenstan

#shitpost #silly hours #genshin impact #honkai star rail #gi #hsr #hu tao #baizhu #blade hsr #columbina #danslette #zhongli #morax #silver wolf #sw #albedo #albedo kreidprinz #kequing #dehya #kaveh #cyno #sucrose #razor #bennett #benny #seele hsr #hook #hsr seele #itto #arataki itto

[doiefy]

crimson watercolour // johnny seo

genre: body horror, biopunk, cyberpunk

member: just john lol sorry

warnings: coarse language (or not, I don’t really remember), blood, gore, self-mutilation (not mental health or self-harm related, it’s just a gory sci-fi plot point), barely proofread but I think it’s passable.

note: a spooky little piece i decided to do as i’m making massive changes to my ‘fight or flight’ series… partial spoilers but i don’t expect to be finishing the first fic any time soon, and i feel like it’s not for the tumblr demographic anyways LOL (ao3 here i come). sort of bloody and gory stuff ahead, you have been warned.

*****

MIDNIGHT IN THE WEST LANES OF THE QUARRY, wrapped tightly in the arms of sin and vice: Johnny had found himself in a gnarly predicament.

He slid to the ground spewing profanities, his backside meeting the metal of the door mere seconds after it had slammed shut. The entire thing shook beneath his weight, protesting further when he threw his head back against it. Blunt force hammering into his skull, pain burying deep into his head and racing down his spine like a current—just a precursor for a long, long night.

He did it again, to be sure, pitching backward until he heard a sickening thump. It hurt less now. Good. Then he brought the tin can back up to his lips and finished the rest of his drink, grimacing when he felt grains of sand on his tongue. Peering into the bottom of the now-empty can, he found jagged edges of metal soaked in a discoloured foam. A suspicious crimson stain sat at the bottom, as if the bartender—last seen suffering from the dryness of the Lanes and a badly-split lip—had spat in Johnny’s cup before filling it with lukewarm beer.

No matter, he thought, mustering a condescending sneer. They were no strangers to disease and illness on the streets of the Quarry, and he had a multitude of other issues to worry about: beginning with a group of men somewhere on the other side of the door, all hellbent on tearing him from limb to limb. Leraje had made good promise of carving his face into a gargoyle, if he ever got his hands on him.

Suppose Johnny would just have to do it himself, first.

His reflection awaited him in the bathroom mirror, rough and fatigued, somewhat of a hazy memory. Not quite him. Not perfect, hardly recognizable to most. A softer jawline and heart-shaped face that certainly made him feel foreign in his own body. His eyes were a little meaner than he remembered, bright red and angular like a pair of garnets. His lips were drawn back in a sharp scowl, not entirely to his liking. But it was effective enough around these parts, able to fit him perfectly into the crowd of lowlife party-goers and spiteful drunks.

Working quickly, he slipped out of his jacket and tossed it onto the counter. His shirt followed, pulled over his head in one smooth motion and discarded haphazardly. He debated, for just a second, whether it would be necessary to carve the ink out of his shoulder. For as long as he’d been in hiding, it was the one part of him left recognizable, never altered, never defaced.

“Short, scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed. Bird tattoo on his arm.”

“Tall-ish, muscular. Black hair. Swallow tattooed on his left shoulder.”

For someone they wanted to kill so badly, they could never paint the right picture.

“He’s got a cute little birdie on his shoulder,” Jungwoo had once said—directly to Johnny’s face, completely unaware that his bounty was right in front of him. “Seen anyone like that recently?”

“No,” Johnny had responded with a snide curl of his lip. He’d tossed a handful of change onto the counter without regard, all whilst holding a blade to the neck of a man hidden below him. It was the small, wiry bartender he’d robbed just moments prior, whose clothes and identity he’d assumed when Jungwoo’s goons backed him into a corner. “Now get the fuck out of my bar.”

The Assembly had been hunting him for sport, like the uber rich topsiders hunted game in the summertime. Johnny had eluded them at every turn only by the skin of his teeth.

By his skin, flesh and bones, by the breaking and tearing of his own body to conform to whatever illusions necessary.

He studied his face for a few moments before taking the knife from his pocket: a handy contraption he’d built himself, with dual blades that could be deployed with the click of a button. Click, like a mechanical pencil. A thin sliver of metal emerged from his hand, gleaming, thrilled to see light again, already on its way to mark the canvas like it had a mind of its own.

It was quick enough. Two symmetrical slashes, one down each side of the face, from the undereye to the hollows of his cheekbone. Deep, painful, nicking something solid on the second stroke. The ink were a deep, glistening red colour, streaking down to his collarbone.

No sooner than he’d begun to bleed, the loose ends of his skin began to knit together. Cells into fibres into tissue into muscle—spiralling into place, regenerating, remodelling. And when they’d smoothed over into patches of new skin, there was a sharpness to his face that hadn’t been there prior.

Though not quite enough.

Again, the knife came. This time below the first cuts, deeper. Harder. Hitting bone purposefully. He hissed as a white-hot sear burst on his vision, lurching forward to clutch at the edge of the counter—before he flipped the blade around his hand and went for more. The thin scalpel now replaced by a thick blade, he drew. An artist hard at work, immersed in their vision, simply could not be stopped. A splatter of red met the floor.

He stopped only to observe. To critique. It looked too much like a past persona: the eyes too small, the mouth too low, the expression still far too cynical, like the bartender facade he’d used to fool Jungwoo. So he relaxed his brow, contorted his features to where he wanted them to be, used his fingers and a smidge of his own blood to mark where he would cut. This was detailed work, after all. He didn’t have time to measure precisely, surely, but he wasn’t a heathen.

Thud. A violent sound behind him; the door shuddered on its hinges, causing Johnny to momentarily lose control of the blade. He felt it cut deep into the corner of his eye and sever a half dozen vessels. Yet there was no fear—it wouldn’t have been the first time he gouged his own eye out, if he was a few millimetres off. There was only a certain irritation at the disruption.

“Someone in there?” a familiar voice called from outside. It was loud and booming, robotic in some strange way, almost as if it’d been fed to a machine first. But above all, it was taunting. “You’ve been in there a long time, friend… Do you need any help? The drink wasn’t too… strong, was it?”

Damn Kim Jungwoo and his timing. Clenching his jaw, Johnny ran the tap and splashed water onto his face. His blood splattered across the sink like crimson watercolour being flung across a canvas. With drenched hands, he slicked his hair back and redressed, then picked up his empty can.

He considered himself an artist in many regards. He had an aptitude for lies and trickery unlike any other. He had lived the lives of upwards of a hundred characters—all hand-drawn, hand-sculpted with the finest material, created with intention and nuance and all, never hollow or useless. The flesh and bone were only the first movement; performance was the second, even if it humiliated him to his core. Johnny believed himself to be an actor suited for centre stage and spotlight, but seldom could he claim his rightful place. Not now. Not yet.

When he flung the bathroom door open a few moments later, he emerged drunk and deranged, tipping over and grabbing onto the first person he saw. A symphony of distasteful club music and voices roared for his entrance, and he thundered above it, spitting and sputtering like an animal.

Within seconds, Jungwoo had flung him aside. They were here for the man with the bird tattoo, not this fool. So Johnny tripped past several party-goers and tumbled to the ground, yet never letting go of his tin can. Then he sat amidst stomping feet and the smell of sweat, feeling the symphony vibrate his bones, laughing until he choked. Part of it was for show; the Assembly wouldn’t bother with someone who looked like him. Part of it was to revel in his victory. In the victories to come.

For one day, he would cast aside all the characters and performances, then rise above them.

#nct #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct drabbles #nct oneshot #nct angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct timestamps #nct blurbs #nct johnny #johnny seo #johnny #johnny fanfic #johnny drabble #johnny oneshot #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios

[starstruck-flames]

Feelings - Dabi

Petals fall, feelings bloom and I just don’t know what I could do in a world without you.

Content includes: Hanahaki disease, angst, happy but ambiguous ending, Dabi is in pining, mentions of coughing up petals, some blood, will be avoiding using the word vomit but I’ll add the warning just to be safe!

Song for your mood?

Flowers…

Dabi raised an eyebrow on confusion, he’d had an oddly sore throat as of late and there’s petals? The acacia flower, not that he knew what it was.

Slightly wet with his own drool, he inspects the petal before choosing to discard them. Hell, it had only been a week, surely it’s fine? Though… something in his chest hurts at the sight of it, as if there’s some deeper meaning he refuses to read.

Ah well.

It’ll pass.

Except it doesn’t. Weeks, months after… Dabi can’t stop coughing up flowers. It gets on his nerves at first, a weekly cycle of expelling the dainty flowers from his body. Soon it becomes a hindrance, it feels like it’s been no time at all before he finds himself leaned up against the wall; fingers dig into the aged brick work as he chokes violently, a mess of petals and stomach acid against the back alley wall.

“…Dabi.” Mr Compress speaks up, placing a hand on his back. “Could it be… you’ve never heard of Hanahaki disease?”

Dabi freezes up, his eyes widening.

“Ah.” Compress looks away, raising a hand in front of his mask with a concerned tone. “So you have… Who is it?”

At that question, Dabi slams a fist against the wall in frustration. “Fuckin nobody that’s who.” He stands up, spitting out another one of the tiny, white, and wet petals.

Compress pauses, watching him silently as Dabi refuses to look at him.

Of course it was someone. Surely everyone knew who it was?

It was you.

Fucking you. The bitch who-

Dabi lets out a sigh, stopping his own thoughts. You hadn’t done anything, it was his own damn fault for refusing to say anything. He’d gotten himself all worked up and now he was stuck with this. Placing a hand over his chest, he feels for his own breathing. Chest rising and falling with some issue… probably due to the flowers blooming inside him. It was hard to not wonder if it would be worth allowing himself to die with it, to allow something beautiful to rise from him. Almost like a Pheonix? Maybe he was just too busy feeling sorry for himself.

“…”

“You should say something.” Compress insists, finally speaking up. “How can you-“

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.” Dabi breathes out, still staring straight at the wall. “…What if it’s too late anyways? It’s always been too late for me, what makes this different?”

Hours pass since then, and Dabi sits alone in the League’s makeshift hideout. Focusing on breathing softly, trying to not trigger another coughing fit.

Closing his eyes, he considers if it’s worth trying? Or if it would be better to just try and burn the damn thing out… he can’t let this get in the way. You were never in the way how can this-

Dabi’s head perks up as he hears a light cough approach him. It gets closer to the bar… harsher and more frantic as the door hand turns.

You rush in, petals bursting from your mouth, pushing past the hand you’d used in vain to catch your own petals.

White acacia…

“D-Dabi…” You manage to choke out, taking heavy steps towards him. It seems that you’d been suffering just as long but… you weren’t taking it quite as well. Neither of you were. “I-“

“I love you.”

Pure silence.

The rooms tension was palpable, thick as Dabi realised what he’d just said. He takes a moment, standing up as his expression looks just a little more desperate.

“Is this because of me? I swear to god if it isn’t I’m burning this stupid fuck-“

“It is.”

His hands move quickly, fingers digging into your hair as he pulls you quickly into him. A cough erupting from him as white acacia petals fall onto your head.

“Ah- Shit. Sorry.”

“I got it on your shirt it’s fine.”

“Little bitch.” Dabi chuckles deeply, closing his eyes softly. “You realise we’re still gonna be choking on flowers a little longer right? It’s gotta come out somehow…”

“I feel better already.”

#Hanahaki #tw vomit #vomit implied #dabi x you #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi angst #hurt/comfort #Spotify

[mlmxreader]

What is your most controversial unpopular opinion?

oh, I have so many lmfao but I'll say the ones that won't get me anon hate 💀

1. outdoor cats

the animal welfare act in the UK dictates that EVERYONE has a legal obligation and responsibility from protecting animals within their care against "pain, injury, suffering and disease". you cannot do that if you're letting your cat out for hours on end; you're also responsible for causing the massive ecological damage that the invasive species does by killing birds and small mammals and reptiles. keep your fucking cats indoors.

2. if you're white, you DON'T get to "make jokes" about racism, even if it's to "subvert" them

it's not your place AT ALL. stop it. be normal. and in the same breadth, you do NOT get to "accept" an apology from someone who has been racist. shut the fuck up & listen to the people who are effected by it.

3. fandom isn't a "safe space" unless you're a white cishet woman

from saneism/ableism, through to racism and homophobia, fandom has lost its ability to call itself a "safe space"; given the amount of fanfic produced by white cishet women, predominantly, that relies on harmful tropes or something like 50 Shades, it's clear that if you're Black, you're not welcome. if you're queer, you're not welcome. if you're not a woman, you're not welcome. if you're Muslim, Sikh, or Jewish, you aren't welcome. fandom isn't a "safe space".

4. if you want to own reptiles, you should have a licence

I've seen it EVERYWHERE, and although the reasons range from live feeding (which is a cruel & unneeded thing!) all through to not giving animals the proper enrichment, people shouldn't be allowed to own a reptile w/o a licence as PROOF of being competent first. an animal isn't a "right", and ik from my experience w Ace in particular, that some people just want these animals for the aesthetic or for the bragging rights - NOT because they genuinely care.

5. if you haven't done any form of activism OFFLINE, then you're a cunt tbh

if your only form of activism is retweeting or reblogging stuff, then im sorry, but you NEED to do better; you should be protesting one way or another. if you're unable to attend proper protests, you should be campaigning for your local politicians to stand w you - whether that's for Hawaii, Congo, Palestine, or Armenia. whether that's for trans rights, homeless rights, or better mental health services. you should be raising awareness to the people around you in real life, you should be campaigning OUTSIDE of online. there's ALWAYS something that you can do. there's no excuse to do NOTHING but online activism. no excuse.

6. if you won't speak up abt bigotry bc of "fandom drama", you're not an actual ally.

more or less self explanatory, but like, if someone says "hey X fandom has a really big issue with saneism" and your automatic response is to NEVER speak about it, then you're not an ally! bc how is anyone from a marginalised community supposed to feel safe around you when you WON'T speak up when you can; online, you have the anonymity and the ability to walk away. you SHOULD be speaking up abt bigotry, bc if you WON'T do it online, then how can we expect you to do it OFFLINE when you WONT be able to walk away? when you WONT have anonymity?

#asks #gayaristocrat

[withahappyrefrain]

"Will you two shut up and kiss already?" From your bingo board with TASM!Peter Parker? 🥰

This is also enemies to lovers and features a special guest appearance from everyone's favorite: Miles Morales.

Part of my 3K celebration! Come party with me!

When you told your neighbor you would be there for him, you were expecting "hey I'm at a party and everyone's been drinking, can you pick me up?"

Or at worse, needing to buy condoms.

But that was too simple for Miles Morales. He had to go get bitten by a radioactive spider and develop superpowers.

And of course, that still wasn't enough. You would have been quite content helping him make his costume. Or finding tips and sending them his way.

Nope. Miles had to get involved with the actual Spider-Man. And then he had to involve you. With Spider-Man.

Sure, did he rescue people on the regular and fight for the everyday man? Yes. And was he wonderful with kids? Absolutely.

Spider-Man was a hero.

But Peter Parker was an insufferable dick.

All you were trying to do was help. And he had to go make some jackass comment about you were just Miles' babysitter.

Fuck that.

Specifically, fuck Peter Parker.

And from that day on, you swore to always give Peter Parker a piece of your mind.

"This is your worst idea yet Parker," You spat.

Peter scoffed, "That's really saying something considering you tell me on almost a daily basis."

"You seriously think Kraven won't expect for you to show up at tonight's event?" How could someone so smart be so dumb at the same time?

"He will expect me. But he's not going to expect," Peter pointed to Miles-who was currently fixing his web shooters, "Him."

"No. Absolutely not. You are not sending him in there!"

"Oh, now you don't want to send him in? The other day you were screaming at me about how I don't let him do enough!" Peter stood up from his computer, walking over to you.

Sure, he may have a few-well actually many-inches on you. But you weren't backing down.

And neither was he.

"That was over a hippo-hybrid that had gone lose in Central Park," you justified, "This is over some crazy hunter who I wouldn't be surprised if they're suffering from mad cow disease!"

Now it was Peter's turn to cross his arm. God you hated how his stupid biceps would bulge out whenever he did that. Like could the dude not find a shirt that fit him properly?

Of course not, his fridge was full of takeout containers.

"All he's doing is making sure our favorite little hunter has some stronger drinks than usual so his guard is down and-"

You huffed, "He's sixteen! He can't serve alcohol!"

Peter's brow furrowed in frustration, his hands balling into fists, "Do you do anything else beside kvetching?"

"Do you do anything else besides come up with terrible ideas?"

"Will you two shut up and kiss already?" Your and Peter's attention turned to Miles, who had put down his web shooter to glare at you two.

You and Peter both gawked at his comment, words of disgust and absolutely not sputtering out of your mouths.

"Oh please, don't start with me. I see the way both of you look at each other when the other isn't watching."

"I don't know what you're talking about-" "I absolutely do not-"

Miles turned to Peter, "Cut the bullshit right now. You know that scene in Bambi when he sees that female deer for the first time after going through puberty? That's what you look like every time she walks in the room and it's not because of your brown eyes. You're not fooling anyone with this whole 'I've been hurt before so I'm going to keep everyone out' schtick. First off, I'm your best friend and am ten years younger than you. That's saying a lot. Second, you were never this lively before I brought her around, so clearly she brings out something in you."

Miles turned to you, "I've known you for seven years. This man," He pointed to Peter, "Is one hundred percent your type on paper. I saw the heart eyes you had when he took off his mask for the first time. And I know you don't tolerate bullshit, so if you really hated him as much as you say you do, you wouldn't still be here. It's just easier for you to deny your feelings, right?"

You were speechless. As was Peter.

Miles, on the other hand, was quite content with himself.

"I'm going to leave this room. I will be gone for fifteen minutes, which is plenty of time for you two to sort through this weird, sexual tension you got going on. I'm going to assume that if you don't call my name, you don't want me to come back in."

With that, you friend and neighbor threw up a peace sign as he walked out of the room, leaving you and a silent Peter Parker standing.

You couldn't even enjoy the silence. Both you and Peter were too busy avoiding eye contact with one another after being called out by your mutual friend.

"That was...." Peter began, his voice trailing off.

"Inappropriate?" Despite your brain's desire to sound confident, it came across as a question. Like you wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, t-that's a good way to put it," Peter agreed (for once).

"I mean, what Miles insinuated about us is totally-"

"Ridiculous? Absurd?" You nodded your head at Peter's words, turning to face him.

Wow. He really did have huge eyes. They were pretty, you'll give him that. Shades of chocolate and gold swirled together.

"Absolutely. Us....feeling that way about each other is-"

"Crazy" you both said at the same time.

He stared at you. You stared back at him. You both nodded your heads in agreement.

It was laughable, Miles' insinuation. Truly. You and Peter were just too stunned that he could even come up with that idea to laugh.

"I don't...." Peter shuffled his feet, "I don't know what he expects us to do while he's gone."

"Exactly! The fact he thinks anything could happen is asinine," You commented.

It was silent in Peter's lab. Absolute silence.

At least, that's what you both agree on. As to who kissed who first, neither one of you could agree on. You maintain it was Peter who cupped your face with his hands, pressing his lips against yours.

Peter maintains it was you who threw your arms around his neck, throwing your whole body into that kiss.

Miles knew to wait until you two came out of the lab, rather than to go back in.

#Abby's 3k celebration #my writing #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #andrew!peter x you #andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter fanfiction

[fizzbot]

1, 2 (you know who this is about), 3, 6, 7, 8, 16, 19, 23, 25 for the voiolence ask game :333

17 (Strinker), 23, 24 (Vox), and 25 (Stolas) for the other fandom ask game :333

YAYYYYYY I LOVE ANSWERING THINGS!!!!!!! :DDDDDD thanks babe ily!!!!!!!!! <33333333

violence ask game og post here!

1. the character everyone gets wrong i suffer from a disease called "im the only one with correct opinions about every character ever" so i kind of feel this way about everyone all the time HJKLSDFHJKL.......but maybe its just bc im so Him For Real, but i feel it a lot with blitzo????? i feel like hes the character where i see the most takes about him that i fundamentally disagree with. it doesnt help that his character writing is so shitty tho.

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom I DO KNOW EXACTLY WHO ITS ABOUT. BLITZO. sjhkdfhjksdf kind of ties into the thing i said above and not EXACLTY what the question is asking but. that man is a SUB. i am being so so serious when i say that everyone who thinks he is/writes him as a dom and/or top doesnt understand him as a character. its partially bc stolitz's writing is so godawful, but like. its not even. subtext??? that this man is a sub/bottom??? its just text. its so obvious that they basically say it. YES he ACTS like a dom thats the FUCKING POINT. HES LYING. hes putting on an act and YOU ALL FELL FOR IT. this man is not emotionally vulnerable enough to let himself indulge in the side of kink/sex that he wants, so he never does. especially since stolas only wants him when hes acting like a top/dom. blitz rolls his eyes and drags his feet in sex because hes not getting anything out of it. again it doesnt help that he doesnt LIKE stolas but he would LIKE HIM MORE if they were on the same page in bed. AND LIKE??? the reason i say its not even subtext is because this is a preference blitz obviously has since SEASON ONE (see: STRIKER), but as stolitz develops romantically in canon, we can see stolas indulging him more. the only time blitz has EVER been aroused on screen is when stolas (and striker) is taking control. the one other time you could argue is at the end of truth seekers where AGAIN they practically STATE that hes not by showing that blitz is only acting this way in the bedroom for stolas. hsjkdfhjksdf if i keep talking about this im gonna start foaming at the mouth I HAVE TO MOVE ON

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr LMAO SJKDFLHJKSDFL there are too many. some of my (least) favorites include takes such as "stolas is introduced as a good father", "blitzker is more toxic than stolitz", and "husk is in the wrong during loser, baby". you are all so fucking stupid. i hope you get well soon

6. which ship fans are the most annoying? RADIOAPPLE. they are SO FUCKING ANNOYING. I HATE THEM. its one thing to have the worst shipping take ever but then theyre always the loudest and most un-based motherfuckers in the world. nothing quite makes me seethe with rage the way seeing that fuckass ship appear in EVERY TAG does. go on try it. look in any hellaverse tag right now and scroll 3 times. i guarantee radioapple will come up. i know because i HAVE THE TAG BLOCKED.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them? alastor :( i mean i knew it was coming. i LOVE LOVE LOVE our rewrite/""yarnsnake"" alastor so much but canon and ESPECIALLY fanon alastor is so fucking boring. they took out any intimidation from his character at all and made him just another guy who swears every 3 seconds and that only exists to be o.p and give cringey quips. and the fandom LOVES that for some reason?? as if the SHOW hasnt toned him down enough, all the fans either turn him into this weirdly sexualized dom character or this cutesy villain with a secret soft side and UUGHHHHJKSDFHJK SHUT THE FUCK UP. he would not fucking say that!!!!!!!!!

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about OOOHHH this is a good one. umm......kind of ties into the above answer, but i genuinely keep seeing people saying that they think alastor is gonna get a redemption arc/saying that he has a secret "good" side and loves the people at the hotel. yall. youre being manipulated HJKLSDFHJKLHJK. i see a lot of "lute was in love with adam" and vise versa too which. idk. its fine. im sure itll probably be canon. but im too obsessed with them being close friends with benefits that play cod together and otherwise have no attachments LMAOSHDJKFLHSDJKL. there are for sure more but im blanking, might revisit this later

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc) ANOTHER REALLY GOOD ONE. stolitz instantly came to mind HJKSDLFHJKL just the whole ship. specifically the arc in the show. also huskerdust? not the ship itself but the characterization. its the same flavor of evil that stolitz is just without the power imbalance. vivzie wants sexual assault in all of her leading ships soooo badddd. i hate the fandom take (loosely based on canon) of husk being ""into it"" the whole time angel was harassing him. makes me fuckin GAG.

19. youre mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like... STOLITZ BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS. omg critics usually HATTTTEEEE this shit!!!!!! and i totally see where theyre coming from. ""the circus"" was OBVIOUSLY just meant to humanize stolas/shift the ""blame"" onto blitz instead by making it seem like he initiated it/made stolas think he wanted this (which doesnt make it right but wtever). and the childhood friends (if you can even call them friends) IS so nothing......but im such a sucker for this trope. i actually think its really cute. IDKKKK i think it ties into how i genuinely think that stolitz couldve been good if they had lead with this. since he started off as a villain and had a very rocky transition into being """not a villain""" despite still being horrifically evil, the show is stuck in this weird place of trying to TELL us that stolas is good and worthy of redemption while SHOWING us that hes not. if he was a villain at the start, they shouldve stuck to their guns and kept him that way. if they wanted him and blitz to have a romance, then they shoudlnt have fucking started the show like this. its too late to go back and fix it and the circus is a very clear showing of them trying and failing to do so.....AND YET. i still think its sweet. it makes me yearn for a show where they remeet as adults and start reforming a FRIENDSHIP instead of a weird sex deal. it wouldve actually been cute and compelling to see them observe how the world has hardened and changed the other and finding out that they still love each other despite it. how they both were so deply hurt by the circumstances and yet still managed to grow in a way that left room for the other. AUGHHHHHH. << ripping my hair out

23. ship that youve unwillingly come around to sighhh. stolitz and huskerdust. <///////3 but ONLY our very specific rewrites of them. also honeymoon??? i was really NOT convinced about them at first just cause i didnt like bee but idk, ive changed my tune a little <3333 honestly ive kinda willingly come around for everyship JSDJHKF like chaggie/fallenstar??? CUTE. exceedingly boring in canon but cute.

25. common fandom complaint that youre sick of hearing i guess i dont really get that sick of fandom complaints......at least i cant think of many off the top of my head......this kind of goes for all fandoms but im very sick of hearing "UGH can everyone stop saying (insane take) 🙄" and the take is just something that no one has ever said. like one person has a sort of lukewarm opinion and 300+ people have to make a post bitching about it like its a real problem that exists. it doesnt. calm down.

fandom ask game og post here!

17. What's a book, movie, or show you think [Striker] would like? OOOHHHHH...........damn this is hard......i cant get into his head as easily as you (presumably) can.......shkdjfhjksdf he kinda strikes me as someone who would be a little snobby about literature tbh. he likes the classics <333 maybe especially classic horror <333 phantom of the opera came to mind which i think is fitting cause weve also established hes a musical theater guy <33333

23. Has your favorite character/ship changed over time? OH yea. i remember back in the Early Hazbin Days my fave was angel dust and my favorite ship was radiodust. i was thirteen so im gonna give myself a little slack here but i still shudder when i think about it JHKHSFJKHJK. now my fave hazbin character is probably vox or rosie <3 and my favorite ship is polyvees!!!! they are so evil polycule. to me. as for helluva, back in the day when i genuinely like the show it was only just starting out. i think my favorite character was robofizz? which is so funny now that ive got a user based on him JHKSDFHJKHJKSDF he is so nothing now </////3 i DID like stolitz but TO BE FAIR. that was in its crackship era. like when we were all like "imagine if they started getting serious about this LOL wouldnt that be hilarious". (it was not hilarious). now my favorite character is STRIKER by a MILEEEE. and my fave ship is blitzker/rewritten stolitz!! <333

24. What's your favorite thing about [Vox]? well. he gets Christian Borle points. we only hatewatched this show in the first place for His Voice. but i do also just really like his general little mannerisms :3 i like how he glitches when he gets flustered/overwhelmed, and how his smile raises and falls depending on who hes with/around. i actually think his body language is really interesting and fun to analyze!!! manipulative little shit. i hope he overheats and explodes

25. What's your least favourite thing [Stolas] said or did? where do i fucking start. there are so many things about this fucker i cant stand. the one that always comes to mind is the interaction at the beginning of LooLooLand. TWO things he says are SO YUCKY GROSS SLIMEY. these lines:

i hate that blitz had to ask. it makes me feel so gross. i know this was still stolas' villain era but it genuinely icks me out SO MUCH seeing how MISERABLE blitz is early on in their relationship. he is so desperate for this job that he would put up with being sexually assaulted/humiliated in public. im so sorry blitzy, one day soon youll find a cowboy who treats you right :///// the other one (from the same scene) that i HATTTEEE is this interaction with via he has right before

Stolas: I'll pay you.~

Blitzo: ...Pay me what?

Stolas: Money.~

WHY. WOULD YOU SAY THAT. TO YOUR UNDERAGE DAUGHTER. and hes so confused when she doesnt like him?? :/// this isnt even mentioning that he openly, sexually flirts with blitz in front of her both on the phone immediately afterwards and all day at the park. i think he should die for real actually. a few honorable mentions include the infamous murder family phone call, assaulting his imp butler, neglecting his daughter, and (intentionally or not) implying that he only wants blitz for sex post-ozzies.

Stolas: They want our money and our bodies.

Octavia: Our money, maybe...

Stolas: Speak for yourself, princess.

THAT TOOK SO LONG IM SORRYYYYYYYYYYYY I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN READING ALL THESE THANKS FOR ASKINGGG :DDDDDDDDD MWMEMWEMWMEWMWEM <33333

#hh #hb #critical #answers #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #rocketstags

[draisaitleons]

anybody who has ever read one of my fics will already know this but i really do suffer from never shutting the fuck up disease. 2k and they haven't even kissed yet. and i started mid-way so there will be MORE before even a single smooch. this is why i couldn't do a short sentence thing. i am apparently only capable of writing long things.

#lucy writes #i love it but i have issues LMAO

[spideytrio]

Catching up on the bb ep from Thursday and Hisam truly does suffer from an incurable case of can never shut the fuck up disease this is hilarious

#bb25

[cornytrashlord]

Marine biologist🎇& Mer🧤 pt.5

Violence in pursuit of so-called science. 🎇 had been expected not to say anything beyond what was expected of him but was he ever one to sit still?

And thus, this was how it was going to end. The cold embrace of murky waters was familiar. Come to think of it, this was the second time he saw his life flash before his eyes. He'd make a joke about water being his mortal enemy and laugh about it if there were anyone to listen but briny water was quick to fill his lungs.

People have a weird and sick way of romanticizing death. If he were honest, it felt like shit. The grasp of death was cold and unforgiving. This time, there were no gleaming golden eyes staring him down and no webbed hands pulling him up onto an observation deck. Everything hurt. His ears were ringing. His back was burning from shards of glass and shrapnel embedded into flesh. He could taste blood in the water. His blood.

With lady luck usually not on his side, he'd fully expected to die in that van or suffer much heavier injuries. Well, it was either that stupid rental van or this. And he'd much prefer the biting cold of the currents than being roasted alive in a van that was decidedly not his dream ride.

Speaking of dream rides, did🧤manage to get away? He hoped he did. 🧤deserved much more than a tank being his whole world. 🧤would go on an adventure, see things he'd never seen before, experience life beyond the confines of a cold, uncaring facility and maybe meet other people. The mercreature had always seemed to be rather sociable underneath his prickly exterior. 🎇should be happy for him and yet…

The oxygen deprivation began to take his thoughts away.

He'd soon be seaweed, nothing more than flesh and bones ready to decay in the currents.

'I really want to go on that adventure with you too.'

The water suddenly began to stir around him. Lips pressed against his own and a tongue forced his mouth open.

The rush of oxygen in his lungs had him struggling to open his eyes. What greeted him was a face he'd come to call beautiful. The breath caught in his throat, just like it always did.🧤never failed to take his breath away.

🎇wondered distantly if🧤would scoff if he cracked the joke right now.

Lean arms wrapped around him to pull him to the surface. 🧤's tail, useless on land, was made to slice through water like nothing while the tentacles worked to propel them up.

-

"How dare you make my choices for me?! Fuck your stupid adventure, pretty boy. I don't care about that crap. Hey! Are you listening to me?" The back of his skull was pounding as🧤launched into his long-winded tirade.

"I am." 🎇winced when his voice came out scratchy. "I was just thinking about how much I hate the sand and how pretty you are." Oh, hate the sand he did. What was worse than dry sand? Damp sand. It was getting in places where it shouldn't even be. Eugh.

"Nice try, brother. That ain't working on me this time."

Perhaps it was the incredulousness of the situation that had 🎇suddenly bursting into laughter. Or maybe it was how🧤had his arms akimbo in a way that made him look like a customer ready to out-sass a tired employee at W4lm4rt.

Laughter was ever a contagious disease. The noise that left 🧤 was breathy and a little strangled but it enraptured 🎇 all the same. It was as if his soft chuckles lifted a veil from his eyes.

Funny how laughter can do that. They were truly the honest rumblings of the soul.

"🧤." "Huh?" "My name, idiot." "Oh."

The day dawned crisp and clear.

"Hey, 🧤?" "What?" "Can I kiss you? Like for real this time? No more drowny kisses?" "No."

"Huh?! I think I more than deserve it, don't you think?" "Fuck you."

"That can be arranged. All you had to do was ask, man. You know–" 🧤catches his lips in a bruising kiss. Frankly, it was more teeth than an actual locking of lips but 🎇was more than happy with that distinction for now. He'd like to not be reminded of his underwater experiences AND it was more than enough to shut him up. For now anyway.

"So how about that adventure together?"

#corny soliloquy #amodo #fic collab #w/chii

[cryoexorcist]

trigger warnings: suicide mention, mental health issues

-

all things considered, the place looks fairly welcoming. it probably has to be, for all the guests and visitors to be happy, but that isn't stopping chongyun from feeling uncomfortable with the setting. the room is bright, with plenty of windows and sunlight coming in. there are color pictures and posters on the wall that give this room a cheery feel to it.

but the biggest damper is sitting across from chongyun and cyno, looking a little too calm. kami is wearing a serene smile that for once, reaches his eyes, and he's watching chongyun with his head tilted to the side, and his brows furrowed together, as if waiting for chongyun to say something. the confusion is understandable, chongyun hadn't been able to find anything to say for almost ten minutes now. instead, he's sitting there with sweaty palms and trembling hands, gripping cyno's hand with a grip so strong his knuckles are almost white.

"i'm not diseased," kami finally says. "if you wanted to say hi, i'm right here. if you want to go ahead and leave, you can." he leans forward, reaching an arm out, but pulling it back. chongyun jerks back in their seat, away from the gesture. they recognize the flicker of hurt on kami's face, but that's hidden behind that stupid serene smile too.

"how drugged are you?" chongyun finally forces out. the words feel empty, not quite right to their own ears. that's not what they wanted to ask!

the smile fades completely from kami's face, and it's his turn to lean back in his chair. his gaze flickers over to cyno as if asking for help, but when cyno doesn't respond, kami lets out a heavy sigh through pursed lips. "i'm not sedated. turns out if you cooperate and do what you're told, they let you off easy. i'm on anti-psychotics though. i don't know if you'd count that as drugged, but whatever."

"yeah." chongyun shrugs, looking out one of the windows. "whatever."

"are you mad at me?" kami asks. chongyun turns back to him, wanting see some sign of the old kami. they don't like this version of him, that's too calm and patient. he's not jumping to bizarre conclusions, he's not anxious or twitching. he seems... almost alien.

"yeah." chongyun clenches their teeth together before leaning forward again, moving both their hands (and cyno's one) onto the table. "i'm pissed, kami. you did something horrible to someone you're supposed to care about. you didn't let me say goodbye to you over text, and i have mandy in my texts-"

kami leans across the table to grip chongyun's wrist, holding onto it so chongyun can't pull away. they gasp, but the action shuts them up.

"i'm sorry," kami says, letting go after a warning glance from a supervising nurse. "chongyun, i am sorry. i said and did a lot of things i didn't mean that night. i was so out of my own head that killing myself sounded like the only option."

chongyun flinches over how candidly kami is admitting that. they jerk back, now wanting to leave. though at this point their legs feel too numb for them to stand up and walk out. the only option is to wait for feeling to return.

"i wasn't right for weeks, yun," kami continues, sounding disappointeed. "they diagnosed me with psychosis. i don't know whatever the fuck that means, but i apparently had a break from reality. something about delusions and paranoia caused by stress. and i get it now. i get it. the weird fear of ren, seeing my mom in my room, my feelings for katelyn, none of it made any sense to me. but it was my reality. i was so sure of everything i was experiencing. it was awful and i feel so sick over it. chongyun i was also really close to buying a plane ticket to wherever katelyn was because i couldn't handle my reality anymore."

psychosis. chongyun has no idea what any of that means. they've heard the term before, but had always brushed it off as someone else's problems, it would never happen to anyone they knew. but to hear that kami had been suffering from that for a long time, and can talk about it without it feeling so taboo, chongyun isn't sure whether or not to be proud of kami for getting help, or disgusted that they hadn't seen the signs earlier.

there's another pause in conversation. kami is clearly waiting for chongyun to say something, but instead, they pull their hand away from cyno's to wipe their palms dry. staring down at their lap, chongyun pulls out the cellphone they smuggled in.

"i kept your phone charged." chongyun sets it on the table. "you got a message from mandy." they nudge it forward. for a second, kami stares at the phone before glancing up and around. chongyun follows their gaze, but no one's really looking anymore.

kami then grabs the phone and flicks through it. there's a frown on his face, and chongyun can recognize the expression of defeat. that must be ren's message again. then, kami looks elated, and types something out. chongyun's own brow furrows in confusion. seconds later, the phone is being pushed back across the table and right back into chongyun's hands.

"what'd you do?" chongyun asks.

"for one, stop going through my phone and using it to talk to people. i wanted you to have it to hold onto, not to invade my privacy. second off, i sent a quick message to mandy." kami shrugs. "and if you know who wants to pull his head out of his ass long enough to talk to me, he's welcome to come find me. otherwise, i'm more than happy pretending we don't know each other."

"sorry." chongyun pockets the phone again. "i had to let him know somehow."

"my phone is not your toy," kami chides. "stay out of it." he pats the table. "look. i'm not going to keep you, i know you don't want to be here. but i'm sorry. i have more clarity than i have in weeks, months, whatever. the meds are helping, i'm finally sleeping without nightmares, and i'm going to do what ren asked me to do and talk to people in person when i get out."

"you can technically get out now."

"yeah, but i don't want to yet." kami leans forward. "just because i made progress doesn't mean i feel ready to leave. i want to know my options when i leave, what my medication and prescription will be like. if i need to talk to people some more. there's still a lot of shit i want squared away. give me another few days, and then you and i can have an actual conversation."

"...fine." chongyun grabs at cyno's hand again, giving it a squeeze. "i'm glad you're doing better."

"me too." kami grins again. "don't worry over me. let everyone else process their own shit. i'll deal with me, you deal with you." he turns to cyno next. "keep an eye on my baby brother, okay? don't let them spiral because of me."

he then makes a shooing motion. "get out of here. go enjoy the rest of your day. i'm going to go take a nap and enjoy the hell out of it. or go color some more. did you know they only let us use crayons? big L. "

"you're such a loser," chongyun snorts. "are we allowed to hug?"

"yeah, of course." kami gets to his feet and walks around the table. he doesn't wait for chongyun to stand up before wrapping his arms around him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. next, cyno gets a hug too. "it'll be okay. both of you, just breathe, this isn't the end of the world. i love you both, alright?"

"i love you too," chongyun says. they fall silent as they and cyno leave the facility. even if chongyun is still mad at kami, they're at least glad that they got to see what just a few days had done for him. and when kami finally gets out, he'll probably be doing even better than today.

#drabble #v. connected the dots ; didn't connect shit ( MODERN. ) #suicide mention #mental health talk #mental health facility #whump #mentioned characters: cyno (saru) mandy and ren