INCORRUPTIBLE.

the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof.

[aunthlda]

this big cat-astrophe  ( @itsnotpatsy​ )   asked for a starter ! 

“I brought -”   the matronly witch begins, but her voice is muted like violen strings held in a tight fist. No sound but a coarse little whisper tumbles out. She takes a sharp little inhale, her knuckles tighten on the tray that holds a teapot, and two small old cups, and a floral plate with some misshapen but freshly baked cookies. Leaning more into the opened door, to hide herself in her uncertainty, she said again - more brightly, to encourage herself as much as the other: “I brought you some tea. If you’d - still drink that sort thing.” 

[itsnotpatsy]

you hear the noise and you stand up from the bed quickly. mostly because you’re fucking paranoid as hell and your body feels completely tied up. but you can always feel her, that’s the thing. you always could. you can still. you feel the nervous energy smushed on top of your own. “hi—“ you start off. and your mouthful of sharp teeth— you want to find a way to hide that. you can’t. “yeah. i would appreciate tea very much, thank you,” and politeness? that way? soft and somehow kind? who is this? “turns out hell’s not exactly a starbucks.” that’s a little more you.

[itsnotpatsy]

❛ Fuck if I know. Your guess is as good as mine. ❜ from ginge!!!

“super helpful, thanks,” it’s the extreme sarcasm that comes out of your mouth and, like, you’re not super amazed. your guess is as good as mine. but you should probably be freaked out, considering whoever the fuck this is they give you some weird vibes and you can’t tell what you’re both looking at. new york sure is a hell of a place, isn’t it? and you’re definitely not settling at all, because you’re about to hit the, like, second time today the acid tab’s turned around and bit you in the ass. (the other day you accidentally touched the one in your purse and it got on your fingers and then it all made sense.)

“i don’t have a guess, asshole,” you’re backing up-- you scare easily, did you mention that? “take an educated one.”

[itsnotpatsy]

[ fix ] for your muse to treat mine’s injury // from Jess !!!

she touches you and you blink dizzily when she holds the paper towel to your temple. it’s cold and there’s a trickle of blood down your cheek and you open your mouth to tell her to fuck the fucking fuck off but your eyes won’t focus. your eyes won’t see her at all. you hear her talking about how fuckin crazy mother is and you want to tell her yeah you’re preaching to the choir, asshole but she’s already ushering you to the bathroom.

when you sit on the sink your whole head dips down to let her keep touching you. mostly, it’s because you’re fucking sad and fucking tired. mostly, it’s because you’d do anything to just-- feel fine. even for a second. even if it’s with fucking her, her you barely know.

“why do you keep-- saving my ass?” is what you ask instead. and your hand is gripping her sleeve-- just weakly, just softly enough.

[cruelonlytobekindarchived]

                                                “HEY! LISTEN!”                            

link (deaf, primarily wind waker & ocarina of time based with breath of the wild influences) as ft. on theyeardecembered and absolutely adored by kat valentine.

[itsnotpatsy]

ROBIN ADDED DAPH ROBIN ADDED DAPH ROBIN ADDED DAPH ROBIN A

[neitherworldlyarchive]

                                                      ❝ ART. SEX. CRIME. ❞                                               DAPHNE KLUGER OF OCEAN’S 8                                                        PILOTED BY ROBIN.

[itsnotpatsy]

anastasia.

@itsnotpatsy​ asked: [ lift ] for your muse to give mine a hand stepping up or over something etc.

it’s a whole new perspective to see trish in a new light. broad day, a lunch date, so she told herself, with no masks, gear, thugs, or cops involved. as of right now, they’re normal. just like everyone else passing them by on the street; normal to the naked eye. it’s nice. comfortable. a life anastasia wish she could have had if things turned out different.

trish always had better taste when it came to places to eat, wine and dine herself, anastasia just happened to be tagging along. trish looking beautiful as always, no matter how casual she may dress, there would always be something ever so elegant about her. bundling herself up in her coat, reaching up to adjust her beanie with the wind biting and nipping at her cheeks, she let out a tired huff. tall people, they’re exhausting to keep up with, and now they’ve got stairs to tread upwards through. this food better be killer, patsy.

when trish offers her hand, it catches anastasia off guard.

a pause, paired with a blink as gust of hot air clouded her vision of trish. she’s just being nice. but also knowing you, you’d trip from wanting to race up the stairs. you’re not being tracked, you’re not being followed, you can breathe.

    cue a gentle smile as a gloved hand rested in trish’s, a hesitant step onto the first of many. smiling relaxing into a smirk, anastasia couldn’t resist a chuckle. “ you that worried i was gonna trip? we’re not all as balanced as you. but thank you. ”

breathing is so weird. so weird. you haven’t ever understood this. you don’t know how to live a comfortable life. you don’t know how to smile or laugh without looking over your shoulder. you don’t know how to be around or with someone without constantly being hounded by cameras. but there are no cameras here. in a place like hudson yards? no one tracking you. or her. you can live in this quiet crowd-- does that make sense? (no. it doesn’t. and it’s stressing you out. but you can disappear into this-- you both can.)

the structure is huge. brand new. glinting in the sun. way tall. you’re so glad you both like heights and don’t mind them.

“i still fall on my face just as much as the rest of you,” it’s a little huff-- a little grace kelly huff, or a scoff a little like audrey hepburn’s throughout-- throughout-- my fairy lady. the air’s a little puff of white, clouds drifting out of your mouth and then up and away. winter in new york is nothing if not beautiful. and maybe it’s a little bitter cold to be out in this, but somehow it’s perfect. “i promise the exercise will be worth it. chef’s table at belcampo worth it.” if that’s a little too platinum spoon for her taste-- you didn’t think that through.

“i can’t stay still for the life of me so i thought we could both use a little cardio on the way to sample the whole dessert menu,” as-if, on you part, but you bet she’ll appreciate it.

[itsnotpatsy]

webspider.

“  kay.   &  thank goodness . cause it actually explains  ..  alot of things !   ”   considering going in a loop from a unfamiliar new york city  ..  really explains so much .

             “  yeah .  back in my universe ..  earth - 65 .    ”   gwen replied , before widen eyes that she knows .  but isn’t too surprised knowing who many spider theme heroes are out there .   “  the names’ webspider  ..  &  you are ?   ”

“webspider. i don’t know you here. unless i do? who ever knows with us masks.” 

you can trust a spider. you can always trust a spider. cowl off, then, and you’re short-haired and grinning, ear to ear, “i’m trish walker. do you know p-- spider-man?” pete is blowing up his spot, isn’t it? “your suit’s rad.”

[itsnotpatsy]

bracteatum.

      She wasn’t sure that she had even expected an answer. These days, she didn’t garner a huge amount of respect in and out of her community. They had just endured so much. Kara really couldn’t blame them. Still, the words, even if they were a little brusk – let her breathe for the first time it felt like in forever. Oxygen in her lungs wasn’t as vital as it was more most others scattered around the bar. ( when was the last time she’d taken a deep breath? ) She couldn’t quite remember. 

            Kara felt a quiver on her lips, a tremulous smile, fighting to take control. If she could smile– then maybe everything else would fall into place? Seemed sound enough logic for the Kryptonian at the moment. 

        “Good point,” she managed, licking her lips and gradually pushing the glass away with slender, unblemished fingers. Hands that never showed much sign of the battering they endured. “I ah– needed some perspective.” Reaching out a hand, she placed it over Trish’s own, just enough to off some sort of cemented appreciation that touch could convey when words lapsed. 

                  “And you are hardly out of your young years if I am in them– I was stuck in an interplanetary dimension for a good, what? twenty-plus years.” Not that a number mattered. “It was just hard to see the good of the work when everything is so unforgiving– but luckily, hope never runs dry.” 

“no. hey, no, it doesn’t.”

she’s good for you, you think, and it’s a strange, very doctor bloom thought. you think about how she’d be proud of you for both those lines of consideration. kara’s eyes are very, very blue, and she has maybe the softest, prettiest face you’ve ever seen. your ears are a little red at the thought, but you settle into it comfortably with another smile. this one is bigger-- human teeth, feline fangs still coming in.

“we do the best we can with what we have on any given day. all you can do is your best. maybe you have to pull back-- slide your thought process under the microscope. maybe that’s the problem. maybe you could use-- showing up to play hopscotch with a bunch of kids up on 1-6-2,” did anybody know you say the numbers separately because it makes you feel like a covert ops spy? well, mostly to prep for your future covert spy life (fingers crossed). “you need to do something for you. something to make just you happy. not the whole world. just kara.”

you slide your hand into hers. and you squeeze it. eyebrows drift up, up, up, and your voice is a little purred when you say, “how about it?”

[warjournal-deactivated20200607]

independent, private gay frank castle. written by lou. 21+ only.

[neitherworldlyarchive]

@itsnotpatsy took me to see frozen 2 aka codependency the movie and i loved it

[itsnotpatsy]

I love three people and a reindeer with severe separation anxiety.

[ironchosen]

i cannot be fucked to find a proper promo or make one because tired but click this to write with a freshly revived and not really changed at all multi where i’m just giving myself new rules but we’ve added elsa, link, lena luthor, and camille preaker as the actives let’s do this.

[itsnotpatsy]

sup I’ve eaten in n out twice in a row and that isn’t a sexual innuendo it’s a 🍔

[itsnotpatsy]

itsy bitsy.

>> @itsnotpatsy​  (  ♡  /  new earth , who this ?   )

                     “  um , excuse me ?  do you mind telling me what DIMENSION – er , EARTH this is ?   ”  OOF .  probably not the best way to ask a complete stranger about dimensional hopping .

“uh-- shit-- alana told me this once-- earth-199999,” you raise a clawed glove in greeting, smiling with a mouthful of partial fangs, “cool suit. are you a spider?”

[neitherworldlyarchive]

itsnotpatsy‌:

she’s so tired of the bullshit, so weary of the crap, so exhausted of the nonsense but she’s dealing with it anyway. all the fucking time. at least she’s a little calmer than calm. at least her eyelids are kind of up and then drooping down. languid. she doesn’t figure in a place like this high fucking society’ll try anything. they’re kind of pathetic, anyway. lot of fat guys in plaid suits that make them look like butterball turkeys with microdicks but plaid’s daring this season. for men, anyway. she scoffs about it. all the time.

at least there’s a hot girl here. and she looks her up and down, so trish returns the favor with what can only be called a kittenish smile. three xanax and a relatively okay self. for now it’s alright. she’s got a week of no responsibilities. that’s like spring break for pa– trish walker.

“i bet you could break that guy in half,” she picks whatever guy might be possible. it doesn’t make a difference. any and all guys probably couldn’t win. and, like, she wouldn’t mind seeing a good old fashioned brawl.

Beau’s chest puffs up at what feels like an observation more than a compliment. The cut of this suit is flattering, maybe a smidge too tight in the arms and that’s part of why she feels like a sausage stuffed into… whatever they stuffed sausage into. She strikes a nice figure in the mirror though. Maybe it’s worth it for that. Maybe her new friend is going to make it worth it for that. Anyway it makes her shoulders look big. She’s into that. Seems like this girl is too. Hard to miss the look she gets in return.

She hands off her glass to— she recognizes the face but can’t put a name to it. Pushes her sleeves up on her arms. “You’d win that bet.” They’re a dare away from making this thing interesting but Beau doesn’t have enough of a read to say for sure if this is a hypothetical or if she’s about to lay a guy out to impress a hot girl (not for the first time).

[itsnotpatsy]

oh my my my what big biceps you have. her eyebrows go right up and she’s basically gleeful. really, to be honest, she was hoping tonight would be interesting for the better and it looks like it’s shaping up to be kind of interesting for the better.

jess is god knows where and mother doesn’t have much of a say or say much of a say and she has the whole penthouse all to herself and my oh my what big biceps you have.

so she starts to wonder— if she starts a fight, will it make this fucking thing more interesting? if she sets hot stranger on some unwitting jackass, what happens? it could be fun. she bets, honestly. it’ll be fun. at least she can pick someone she hates.

shame one of the jonas brothers aren’t here. like. brad or chase or corey or something.

mm. but, you know, aaron carter’s an ugly little gremlin so sure. she hates him, anyway.

“oh?” eyebrow again. little arch. she’s even lightly touching that bicep with a big, sparkly smile, “i would?” her head tilts casually and subtly aside, lazy and xanax, just enough to make it clear you’re indicating baby frosted white trash talking up some poor server who doesn’t deserve his shit.

[itsnotpatsy]

hiatus over later once i watch star wars and my dash isn’t spoiler city for me anymore.

[itsnotpatsy]

@conquestforged (x)

you definitely recognize that you’re absolutely going to die, or that you could’ve died, because the weapon materializes and your body suddenly zaps with paranoid electric energy. but then she lurches back and you’re too smart, too careful, so you stay so very, very still. in fact, you kneel, quietly, one knee and then the other, and you place both your palms on the floor. okay. see? okay. not dangerous, i promise. it’s okay.

“sorry. you were making... you sounded upset. i heard you from--“ outside? yes, that’s what she means. it’s that keen feline hearing of hers, so zeroed in it’s horrifying. “--downstairs. outside. i’m sorry. hey. hey. it’s only me, hela. just trish walker. that’s it.” cowl off, in fact, see? short, messy, fluffed gold hair made an absolute disaster by your outfit. “just trish.”

you don’t know if that means anything to her.

you’re still buzzing, too. grappling with your ears trying to turn off, desperate to go half-deaf to get away from the fear. you refuse to let it.

“only me.”