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#after googling it
BRO! HOW!?
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catmask · 8 months
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my mom loves to lie and like she always swears she was NEVER homophobic or anything to me as a child “i even have a gay work friend” but a really funny memory resurfaced recently where i asked if i could use birthday money i had to buy a rainbow flag when i was like ??? 7?? because i LOVED rainbows. and she said no that means something Evil and god will hate you . so what did i do. but ask my grandmom for a rainbow sweater for christmas and proceed to only wear that sweater for three years when it got cold because i didnt like the idea that god hated colors and i wanted to challenge him
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bet-on-me-13 · 2 months
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Why are there so many gods here?
SO! One day, the Eternal Trio decided to Check if they had ant past lives using Magic.
They already knew that Tucker was the Reincarnation of some Pharoah, so maybe they were also some historical figures in a last life.
It does not go as expected.
Danny finds out that he was the Ancient of Space, and the reason Clockwork was so invested in keeping him from being erased from Time is because he's his Brother apparently.
Sam finds out that she was the Embodiment of The Green, and Undergrowths attempt at Adopting her was some scheme to become the Parent of his used-to-be Queen while she was in Mortal Form, therefore overthrowing her.
Tucker finds out that Duulaman was just one in a long line of the Reincarnations of the Sun God Ra, and that he had been quite a few more historical figures in the Past.
They were surprised to figure this out, but then they got curious.
They tested the Spell out on Jazz, and found that she used to be an Amazonian Goddess, alongside Pandora.
They test it on Dash, and find that he used to be Hermes, God of Travel and Speed.
Ellie was an Embodiment of something called the Speed Force, who was also a child of Space before their rebirth, apparently.
They slowly realize that almost every person of note in Amity Park is the Reincarnation of some kind of God or Spirit. And none of them seem to realize that.
Why are there so many reborn Gods in this town?
...
Constantine is actually asking himself the EXACT same question at that very moment, after a botched teleportation spell landed him in Amity Park.
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ekinoksin · 14 days
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napoli
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umblrspectrum · 2 days
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i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character
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notacactus28 · 11 months
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A "warning" to the newcomers
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0luv9 · 5 months
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can't move on || mattheo riddle
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Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.
Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.
Words: 4.025k
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Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.
He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.
His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.
Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.
"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.
"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.
He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.
"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.
“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.
You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.
Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.
He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.
He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.
Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.
One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.
He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.
He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.
Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.
He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.
Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.
They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.
She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-
He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"
"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.
He fucked up.
"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.
It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.
...
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garfield-milk · 8 months
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he’s such a fangirl. he definitely has a few scrolls of adventures (and fanfiction) of the Blue Spirit and reads them every night while giggling and kicking his feet in the air.
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lyss-sketchbox · 18 days
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could u draw wriolette as dnd characters perhaps,, dragonborn Neuvillette and tiefling Wriothesely would be pretty cool :>>>
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Kissing him on his silly lil dragon snout
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nelkcats · 9 months
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Parent's Day
Ghosts didn't have a father's or mother's day as such, but they did have a day where they combined both. A day to celebrate your guardians. Humans, Yetis, Amazons or Gods, it was a quiet day to thank them for your ghost adoption.
Dan and Ellie had spent a few years under the halfa's care but at the end of the day they considered him their guardian (although Dan did it reluctantly), so when they heard about Parent's Day they panicked.
They wanted to show Danny that they really appreciated him but a mug or coupons were not enough. In the end after some brainstorming they decided to give him the closest thing to a mug that was in the Realms: Constantine's complete soul.
John Contantine was a very annoying human, they knew this because they heard Danny complain about his paperwork many times. Apparently their father had 99% of his soul but couldn't do anything until he had 100%, and what better gift than to help him get rid of the paperwork? He hated paperwork! It was perfect!
With some help from Clockwork they traveled to DC's dimension, determined to take the last of the hellblazer's soul. Dan wondered if he should steal a star from the dimension while they were there (Danny liked space didn't he?), as an extra gift.
John Constantine was in the middle of explaining the holes in reality to the Justice League when a shiver ran through his body. He had an instant bad feeling.
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rhys-writes-some-shit · 3 months
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"Sing to Me?"
Alastor x Reader (QP)
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Yawning, you trudged out of the bathroom, drying your hair loosely with a towel. You were warm from your shower and the filling meal you'd had a little while earlier. Alastor was probably the best chef you knew, a fact you were extremely proud of. Even if your preferred form of protein was banned from the hotel premises, Alastor was always able to make do with what he had.
Despite it being late at night, you grabbed your laptop (a very rare, not VoxTech one) to work on some paperwork. You'd promised your boss to get these spreadsheets done, and you weren't one to shirk on your promises. Yawning again, you tuned your old-fashioned radio before settling down with your laptop. The radio had been a gift from Alastor. Many late nights had been spent listening to his broadcasts. They'd always been a comfort, even before you'd signed a contract with him.
Some light jazz filtered through the static, one of your favorite songs. Alastor knew you were listening. Smiling lightly, you started typing away.
The music was occasionally interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream or a sharp whimper. Your smile never left, humming along while Alastor had his fun. Part of you was vaguely aware that the radio show was now being broadcast all throughout Hell, that you didn't even need the radio, but you liked it, so it stayed on.
The spreadsheets were simple enough. With the radio in the background, you were able to focus just enough that the job came naturally. In the back of your mind, you started going over the next day’s schedule.
You'd ended up zoning out while you typed, not even noticing how the radio switched to static and then turned off by itself.
A single knock preceded Alastor's entrance, enough to break you from your thoughts. You were quick to notice the faint blood splatter on the sole of Alastor’s shoes, the only evidence of his previous activities.
“My dear, you know how I abhor those vile machines,” Alastor reprimanded, walking and starting to subconsciously organize your room. A chair was pushed in, a painting adjusted so it was even, the bottom drawer of your dresser lightly closed.
“Yeah, yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “I need it to do my job, Al. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a piece of electronic equipment that's not created by VoxTech?”
“All the more reason to get rid of it.” Alastor walked over to the window and stared out at it. He was a little lost in thought himself, it would seem.
Typing a line, you said, “I liked your broadcast.”
“I'm glad.”
He was quiet. Something was wrong. Your grin died down, pushing your laptop to the side. Alastor’s smile was still there, but dimmer. Sadder.
“Al? You okay?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with, dearest,” Alastor replied, a slight edge in his voice.
You wanted to push. To get him to talk to you. But you knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, he'd just get upset or shut down more.
“You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if we'd met while we were alive,” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, obviously that would've been impossible in the first place, considering I wasn't even born when you died, but I just wonder about it.”
“What a ridiculous thing to wonder about!” Alastor laughed a little. “As you said, it would have been impossible. And why think about being alive when we have all of death to enjoy?” His tone lightened a bit. “There is so much entertainment to be had! Life was quite dull, comparably.”
You wondered for a moment, trying to figure out where to lead the conversation. “Where did you live, when you were alive? You already know where I lived when I was alive, it's only fair I know where you lived.”
Alastor’s grin softened a bit, still sad, but with a hint of happiness in there. Nostalgia, if you had to guess. “New Orleans, Louisiana. I lived there with my mother. I had a delightful job as a radio host.”
“You're still a radio host,” you teased playfully. “What was it like, back then?”
“Ah, it was… entertaining.” He didn't say anything more, lost in thought as he leaned on his cane. You were vaguely aware that you were the only person who ever saw him like this. Alastor wore his smile like armor, guarding himself with a nonchalant facade, but very rarely, behind closed doors, the guard would fall, just for a little while.
Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask another question, Alastor spoke, “You seem quite tired, my dear. Maybe it is time we part ways for the evening.”
Pressing your lips together, you knew he was right. You really should be getting to bed, but you were worried about Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this before, so it was impossible to guess what he'd do once he was alone.
“You really should learn to hide your emotions better.” Alastor turned suddenly, chucking to himself. “There is nothing to worry about, darling. I am perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, you say that, but for some reason I don't believe you.” Stifling a yawn, you gave Alastor a look.
“Now, now, don't be like that.” Alastor came and sat on the edge of the bed, using his magic to set the laptop on top of the dresser. “What can I do to convince you to sleep?”
Leaning back, you thought for a moment. When the idea hit you, your face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but you swallowed the anxiety. He did ask, after all.
“Sing to me?”
Alastor laughed, causing you to glare. “Again with the ridiculous ideas!” When your face fell subconsciously, Alastor hesitated.
When he didn't say anything, you accepted the fact that it was a ridiculous request. Assuming he'd leave the room on his own accord, you used your magic to turn out the lights as you slid under the covers of your bed. You never did get all those spreadsheets done like you'd wanted.
“Parlez-moi d’amour.”
Alastor’s slightly-static-filled voice was quiet. His eyes faintly glowed in the dark and you watched him with wide eyes.
“Redites-moi des choses tendres.”
Smiling softly, you sank into the bed, closing your eyes and allowing Alastor’s comforting voice to wash over you.
“Votre beau discours /
“Mon cœur n'est pas las de l'entendre /
“Pourvu que toujours /
“Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes /
“Je vous aime.”
((The song))
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inkskinned · 1 year
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"it's so embarrassing you like that popular thing" "oh ew that geeky/strange thing is so cringe lol" "oh it's kind of weird you get excited about that harmless shit"
dude i love how ironic and jaded you are and that's so cool and sexy of you. and i am so so glad to tell you - you won!! we all had a meeting and we decided that you won, and we are writing your name on the inside of a burger king crown. the marker smeared, sorry, but we knew any form of real effort is ugly to you. but anyway. congrats! you are officially the coolest, most ironic, most jaded person in-the-world-right-now. we would throw you a party but you would think it was totally boring - and besides, we're weird so we wouldn't have been coming. we would have brought our love of beetles and of baking and of little canapes. we would have brought our artsy videogames and pages of writing. we would have written a poem with you, our hands covered in ink, and spread out a canvas to dance on, the night so lurid and pink.
but do not worry. we will not throw the party. we will just get you a ringlight and that crown i mentioned. it is a nice crown, except for where one of us dropped it.
the vote was a really hard one because we had so many cool ironic people to pick off the shelves. all of you have hands that rot fruit, how strange is that - you can't look at something without destroying it for other people. you like it when you can squeeze a person into a pinpoint - all us small ones scampering our little feet around our ugly joys. the vote was also a hard one because we kept our voices down because you don't like it when we talk too loud. you were on your phone at the time, talking to people other than us. you are a ghoul of every moment - half in, half out, you resent us for being here without shame or embarrassment.
so good news! we have invented an island for people like you. you get to go there and speak into the air things like if you still like watching harmless twitch streamers in 2023 you're fucking boring. you will say things like liveplay podcasts are fucking ugly and it's kind of awkward they try to make everything gay. on the island we made you, all of your words will have weight. they will form in the air like icicles, large white behemoth letters that will crumple in anvils around your feet. maybe we will send someone there once in a while to sweep, but honestly you might be there for a while, alone, waiting. we are busy being outside looking for mushrooms and flapping our hands and humming. we are busy kicking our little heels while we watch cringey tv. we are busy - sorry! as an apology, we have pre-filled the island with every bland, mediocre, unscented thing we could find. the island has the texture of american cheese. the island has an ocean that never gets angry. the island is perfect for you, trust me. you will be so happy there - as happy as you can be, ironically.
we want to say we are sorry for doing harmless things that you find annoying, childish, or unappealing - but we are not sorry. we thought we could help you, because we don't mind laughing at ourselves, but it turns out you are allergic to color and noise and atmosphere, so this is the best that we can do for now. we are all making a big shirt that says i voted in the ironic monarchy. we got you one that is just a fast fashion buttondown. i am so excited for you and this island and the big life you have won. you have a cool jaded grey life and miles of irony to roam. i love you! be well.
now leave us alone.
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strawlessandbraless · 10 months
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Thinking about Dean’s super hetero obsession with Eliot Ness and how Misha also played him in another TV series
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spidertroupeart · 3 months
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Heyyyyy, it's meeeeeee
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bowenoke · 8 months
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edit: btw it is not safe to wear contacts in the shower! the option is included for accuracy, but please consider throwing on an old pair of glasses or just going blind into that wet box instead.
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morganbritton132 · 1 year
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Eddie post a Tiktok of Steve mid-rant about how the party doesn’t use their shared calendar correctly. You can tell this has been going on for a while because Steve is just listing stupid stuff that’s on it now - “On the twentieth, Dustin wrote ‘Moon.’ ???? Is he going to the fucking moon?! Is he looking at it? Max wrote a threat for Thanksgiving, but like, not a descriptive one so I don’t know… I don’t know what it means. Is she threatening us to come over?” The entire time Steve is ranting, Eddie is nodding along while zooming in on his ass.
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