I'm very rarely proud of my own stuff, but my confidence IS improving. And I must admit, there are times I feel extremely proud of how I incorporated Esme into canon events :)

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat @karimac @kmc1989 @ninjasawakenedmystar @asirensrage @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @theesirenteller @alisbackalleybbq

Gaspar had warned him about it. That night at his place in Dhaka seven years ago. Confronting Tyler about ‘the girl’; stating that it was obvious that there was something going on and that it was starting to negatively affect him. It was all in his eyes: the way he looked at her when she spoke or walked into the room, the way he’d keep a cautious and protective gaze on her at all times. His face apparently ‘softened’ whenever she came near him, even smiling when she’d innocently and softly touch his arm or casually brush against him. That was all Gaspar had needed to see: accusing Tyler of becoming weak and soft and allowing ‘some girl’ to get under his skin and grab by the balls. It took less than an hour for him to attempt to plant the seeds of doubt in Tyler’s mind; reminding him of how ‘fucked up’ he was and how no woman would stick around to put up with it. Things always seem good at the start; your ego stroked and inflated by how much they want you and can’t get enough of you and they accept each and every piece of you.

Until time drags on and they get to know the REAL you. The sides that aren’t so pretty. The hair-trigger temper and the mounds of baggage, and the troubles with bad vices and addiction issues. Once they get to experience all of that, things start to deteriorate; they start thinking less of you and get annoyed by your presence and disgusted by what you do for a living and the smell of alcohol on your breath and the painkiller-induced haziness you always operate under. And they’ll walk out of your life. Leaving you even more broken than you were before.

“Two broken people cannot make a whole,” Gaspar had drunkenly reasoned. “They’ll only drag each other down and make things even worse. Make EACH OTHER worse.”

Tyler hadn’t said much in response; nursing a glass of scotch and nodding slowly at his friend’s words, annoyance and rage simmered inside of him. It had been a hell of a long day. He was tired and aching and hungry, and all he’d wanted to do was go upstairs and let his guard down even for half an hour. Climb into that small, cramped twin bed and tightly hold that tiny, warm body against his. No need for anything other than that. Face buried in her hair as he breathed in her now familiar scent and felt that smooth skin against his own. Just hold her; shut out the rest of the world and pretend it was some other time and place. But instead, he’d found himself humouring his friend’s drunken rambles and outrage over something that was none of his fucking business; his patience wearing thin and his temper on a slow boil. And his anger hadn’t been because Gaspar had been shit-talking him, but because he’d started attacking HER. A woman that had come into his life and made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years. If ever. Who his instincts had told him was good people; he could trust her and open up to her and let her see him for everything he was and what he could and couldn’t give her.

In the same way she had with him.

“What is wrong with you?” Gaspar had continued. “Why can’t you see it for it’s worth? What SHE’S worth? She’s using you. Sucking your dick and letting you fuck her so she gets safe passage out of Dhaka. She won’t survive without you. She knows that. And she’s pulling out all the stops, and you’re falling for it. For HER. Do you really think someone like that…'' He had motioned towards the stairs with his glass of scotch. “...would want someone like you? A guy with your issues? You kill people for money. You’re a drunk. An addict. Why the hell would a girl like her waste her time with a guy like you? She’s got you by the balls, and you don’t even realize it. Cut the ties now. Before it’s too late. Before she leaves you even more broken and fucked up than you already are.”

It was then that he’d had enough. Pushing his chair back from the table and walking away before he did react. Badly. He didn't need to hear any more; nothing Gaspar could say would change either his mind or the things he was feeling for her. It was terrifying but welcome; experiencing that level of attraction -to someone’s body and mind- and knowing they were the same things for you. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to feel anything. He’d been going through life severely depressed and drunk and high and suicidal. Taking jobs in the hopes someone would put him out of his misery because he was too much of a coward to do it himself.

Suddenly, he didn’t want any of that. He had hope for a future and wanted to get clean and discover what kind of life he COULD have. With her. He wanted to stick to their plan: take what money they would receive and get to know one another as they travelled the world. He wanted her to visit that little shack of his; introduce her to everything that was beautiful and incredible about his homeland. And he wanted to go to Colorado; see the mountains and the snow and get to meet her family and friends. Most of all, he had just wanted her. More time together. More chances to see her smile, hear her voice, and experience her laugh. To feel her tiny hands cradling his face when he leaned down to kiss her. Those lips soft and supple as they moved against his own. So many things he wanted more of. That he HAD to have more of. And no one was going to deprive him of any of them.

“Do you know how much they’re worth?”

Everything had gone downhill after that. Gaspar had underestimated him, and it had shown. Believing he’d somehow exchange two innocent lives for money and definitely not expecting that things between him and Esme had evolved past sex. He had no clue about those long conversations they had indulged in afterwards. The bearing of souls and sharing of secrets while tangled up in a mess of sweaty limbs and damp and wrinkled sheets. Gaspar had no clue that any of that had even occurred. Or the depth of just what Tyler had been feeling towards her.

Sometimes, it’s a blur; turning down the offer, followed by the fight in the kitchen. Gaspar ready and willing to kill him and Ovi stepping up to save all their lives. Other times, it is still so vivid: the rage, the hurt, the betrayal. He had done the right thing. Turning down the money favour of putting his life on the line to save theirs. And he’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.

sometimes I randomly think about the time a girl posted in this girls only Facebook group I’m in telling everyone how she broke up with her boyfriend and he lied saying that he lost the spare key she gave him, only to then break into her apartment when she wasn’t home and steal the cat they’d adopted while they were together, but then he denied having done this and she didn’t really have proof that he took the cat since he wouldn’t let her come into his place and look for it. And then another girl saw this post and knew her ex-boyfriend, and she was like “girl. I used to hook up with your mans back in xxxx and I still have his number. If you want, I’ll hit him up and get him to invite me back to his place and see if your cat’s there.” And the OP was like “bet.”

So this woman hit up homie dog, asked him out for drinks, went home with him, slept with him, and then woke up in the middle of the night and TOOK THE CAT. Like she had only said that she would confirm if the cat was there but then she took it upon herself to steal this woman’s cat back. Like she full on Trojan horsed this man and then hit up homegirl like “I got the goods. Where you wanna meet.” And then the two of them posted a photo of them together with the cat to the group.

And I just think women supporting women is so beautiful.

Hey now, Let her cook!

IT WAS ERIC AFTER ALL!!!! I'm so glad we got to meet him (before Vil snaps him away with those Infinity Gauntlets) (can't wait to see what happens when we get the matching Infinity Tiara to go with them, there will be no survivors)

(sorry to be so slow/rough lately, just got a lot of stuff on the ol' brain at the moment! alas, if only I could spend all my time drawing incredibly stupid characters I mean I do but)

Obsessed with lovers and piners calling the object of their affections their best friend. Like yessss blur the lines between platonic and romantic love. show how important they are to you in a multifaceted way. Cover up your feelings with another kind of love that is just as true. One type of love does not negate the other and but tragedy can rip both out from under you single handedly, and it will hurt so much more that way. Losing a friend and a lover. Gaining both and not needing any labels for what they are. Using labels but having it be so much more than a title. Were they friends before they were lovers? Or were they lovers whose friendship grew inside of their love? Unclear! Who cares!

some of you people are so obsessed with having an acceptable group to ‘punch up’ at that you would rather pretend a marginalized group are Basically The Oppressors™ than listen to their valid criticisms about the fact that ‘punching up’ very rarely hits the intended target, and the majority of the actual damage of that act is suffered by fellow marginalized people in your own community. there is a significant difference between venting frustrations about privileged groups and just outright attacking anyone who (you assume) experiences that axis of privilege regardless of - and in many cases outright denying - their actual lived experiences. it goes far beyond just ‘venting frustrations’ when what you’re really doing is trying to find a moral justification to bully people you don’t like, and when your own desire for catharsis and moral superiority leads to ignoring the voices of the vulnerable people you hurt. you’re not ‘punching up’ - you just like punching people for the sake of punching.

not a role model, former runway model

prints

27.04.2023 HAPPY 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO MY FAVOURITE SFM VIDEO OF ALL TIME, GENTLEBOT HELL BY MISTERMULLUC ON YOUTUBE

A little snippet from Best Part of Me. Featuring the Rake kids.

Especially for you, @tragiclyhip.

@youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat and anyone else who reads/supports

“It’s okay Tanny,” TJ assures him, and drops his brother’s hand in favour of pulling him into a hug; an arm around Tanner’s waist and a hand on the back of his head. “Don’t be scared. I’m here. It’ll be over soon.”

“You’re a very good big brother,” the man praises, a friendly smile curving his lips.

“Tanny gets scared easily,” TJ explains, fingers lightly combing through his twin’s hair. “It’s my job to protect him. ‘Cause I’m older.”

“You’re only older by six minutes,” Millie reminds him.

“It doesn’t matter how many minutes, I’m STILL older. So I have to protect him. He’s smaller because he was sick when we were in mommy’s tummy,” TJ explains to the older couple. “Because I was taking all the food for myself and he wasn’t getting enough. So when he was born, he had to be in the special nursery and have doctors and nurses take care of him. He didn’t get to come home for a long time. Right, mom?”

“Right,” she confirms, and runs a hand over his hair. “But not everyone needs to know our business.”

“I’m just explaining why we look the same in the face but not the body. I didn’t mean to take all the food. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wouldn’t have done it if I did. He’s my brother. Why would I hurt him like that?”

“Tyler, shhh. I’m sure these nice people don’t want to know every little detail. Shhh.”

“We were the first boys after daddy lost his first one. So it was extra special when we came along. Mommy says daddy really cried when he got to hold us.”

“Sorry,” Esme gives a sheepish smile. “He’s very social. He loves to meet people. And tell them his life story.”

“We’re here to see daddy,” TJ continues. “He got hurt at work.”

“The bad guys hurt him,” Millie adds. “Really, REALLY bad.”

“Okay, guys, that’s not something you need to tell everyone, alright? That’s enough.”

“He kills people,” TJ says. “Bad people. When he has to. To protect good people. Isn’t that awesome?”

“Tyler James…” Esme lightly and briefly places a hand over his mouth. “...enough, please.”

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 43 (Masterlist)

(Part 44)

Me, to myself: I just think the series was better when I posted several times a week because the pacing felt more natural, and it translates better when people binge it.

Also Me, holding two jobs and a bat: If you try to post once a day again, I will disconnect your head from your shoulders—

@bruciemilf guess who’s back

Anyways, folks! :D So I'm thinking of a new upload schedule where I spend a bit preparing the next ten or so parts then post it all in two weeks? I think that would be fun (and much better for my creative process.)

I’ll be posting the next part very soon :) But it's going to be drastically different from what I've done before. Let’s see if anyone can guess why.

Yada yada don’t die LOVE Y’ALL

Stucky fic writers were truly on something else because earlier this week I remembered the line “they can bury us in one coffin to save on lumber” and thought it was a lyric from like a fucking hoizer song or something along those lines only to go get a drink at 2am in my kitchen and be hit over the head with the reminder it’s actually from a Stucky Fic I read in 2017.

You gave Xiao your heart.

He thought it was a spar invite.

[Next]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

innocently logging in to look at the Twst schedule for May like