#I fucking love your brain

[roguelov]

I MISSED SATURDAY 😭😭😭 (i've had to completely get off of a sinus med my body got used to all at once so i was Dead To The World yesterday rip) will you accept my porn even though its not the day of hoe-ing? 🥺

(hoeery in question: Imagine wanting a toy or something for when dream is away on a mission or diplomacy. and hes saying No ofc, i can give you everything you could ever want why would you replace me with plastic?? diplomacy who? I don't REALLY need to go.

and you push and push and finally he has a Thot and is like you know what? sure. and that is Suspicious, but he makes it so whatever. and you use it ofc, and then later find out he made it so that it transfers all sensations to him like he's the one inside you and not a piece of plastic, meaning he knows when and how you use it every time like he's there.

Double imagine you use it while he IS in the dreaming to tease him, walking around with it in you so he can't do anything about it. Triple imagine he makes a flesh light and it has the same effects on you for when hes away or when YOU are working as revenge)

please accept my humble whorish thots ❤️

ANON HOLY SHIT!!!!!! AND EVERY DAY IS HOE-ING DAY!!!!! IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HERE WHORISH THOTS

I am literally speechless cuz like the teasing and the knowing and 🫠🫠🫠 But like adding onto the teasing bit and doing it just to piss him off like

Dream walked side by side with Lucienne in Fiddler’s Green, discussing new plans for the Dreaming. All was well. That was until he felt delicate, ghost like, fingers dance across him.

He stiffened slightly.

Oh. Oh dear.

You were playing with yourself. But, why now? Why when he was home in the Dreaming? You could have called.

He felt you slip the toy inside of you. God, it felt heavenly for him. He bit the inside of his cheek, desperately pushing down such sinful sounds.

“- sir?”

Dream glanced to Lucienne. His voice was calm, and even. Not a sign of distress shown. “I’m sorry, Lucienne, did you say something?”

“I was suggesting we -“

Off on the other side of the Dreaming, you teasingly sank onto the toy again. Your movements were deliberately slow. Dream couldn’t hear anything. All his focus was on the hypnotic sensation. The tent in his pants was growing with every movement.

“Lucienne, apologies, but I must be off,” Dream quickly said, before sand enveloped him.

Dream appeared before you in your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed, slowly riding the toy. His eyes flashed that sinister twilight for a second.

You should be frightened. Instead, you simply smirked up at him. You rolled your hips as the toy slipped in and out.

Dream groaned and bowed his head. He stumbled forward, leaning into the bedpost. His hand curled around it in a white knuckle grip. You swore for a moment you heard the wood creak under his grasp. His eyes flickered up, and the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“My dear,” he gritted his teeth then sighed deeply. Standing upright, he stared you down with a certain coolness. “You are going to pay dearly for such acts.”

(I hope you feel better! Here’s some get well forehead kisses for you 😘)

[sorrowfulrosebud]

And when he finally gets relaxed, he drapes himself over you and holds you tightly, trying so so so hard not to cry. His self-preservation goes out the window when your gentle hands thread their way through his dandelion fluffed head, turning your face to press a small kiss to his lips.

“Welcome back my love,” you murmur to him softly, making his knees weak with his favourite smile. He sobs silently into your shoulder, exhaustion and guilt overtaking his body as he trembles whilst holding on to you.

Rubbing your nails up and down his back to soothe him usually does the trick, but this makes him feel worse; as usual, you had to be stuck on the other end of his stick and cater to his moodiness when you only wanted to help him.

Softly kiss his cheek as you murmur out “I know, baby, I know,” whilst swaying the two of you in the kitchen. Make him a cup of herbal tea to soothe his nerves as you set up your shared record player, playing the record that was in the background of your first date.

Hold his face in your hands as you sway the both of you, murmur out soft declarations of your love as Frank Sinatra plays songs of childhood sweethearts. Tuck back the longer strands that sweep his cheeks to make his heart pound. Gently rub his bottom lip with your thumb before kissing him slowly, deeply, lovingly.

For all it took him so long to feel back at home, you would always be there to guide the way.

bakugou must be so high-strung and on edge when he comes back from a long term underground mission 🥺

doesn't sleep well in his own bed for the first week or two, doesn't eat as much as he typically does. probably has lost some weight, even. if you speak too loudly, it has him gritting his jaw on instinct, and he's so jumpy about you touching him, even though he's more aware of you than he ever is. he's quiet typically, but all your attempts at conversation are met with little grunts or one word answers.

it's rough for you both and he knows he's being less than pleasant, but it just takes time to melt back into the comfort of being home 🥺

[vannahrt]

Vivienne, I- *chokes* please I- *sobs* I just wish- *gag* I- please I don’t have much- *sob*

Don’t fucking look at me.

[kourota]

⸢This story is for just that one reader.⸥

[purrvaire]

they're so in love im gonna throw up real quick

[lazycranberrydoodles]

english translation book 5 baby we are in the ‘people assuming kid form hua cheng is xie lian’s son’ era 🔥🔥🔥 / follow for more hualian silliness

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

another little barn for us all while we Anticipate <3

[mozzzz05]

I just had an upsetting thought - what if Alison constantly visited the Ghosts and knew - when she was old and grey and had lived a life - that she was going to die, so she made sure she was in Button House for it?

Mike accepts it and understands her want to go back to the Ghosts, they’re like family, they’re always there.

But then it’s Mike’s turn to go and he decides it must happen at Button House too. He’ll see his wife again! Spend a couple of hundred years together & hey he can actually meet/talk to the ghosts now!

Only when he dies and he meets all the Ghosts, who are all excited to actually talk to him etc, he asks where Alison is, only to find that she moved on straight away.

He finally gets to see a part of his life that was so bizarre for him, so secret and hidden, part of his life where he only ever had half a story. And now he has that half but his whole world is still gone and he doesn’t know when he’ll ever see her again.

[hothammies]

definitely one of the best things the bear has done was equate claire to chef david and sydney to chef terry bc it makes it so much more obvious where they're going to go with the story - even though claire and syd have "ambiguous" roles of who is better in carmy's life (even if it's extremely obvious to us who is), the juxtaposition btwn chef david and chef terry is so stark and obvious to everyone about who's better it's not even funny 😭

they even gave sydney and chef terry matching headbands btw LMAO

the fact that they also had the guy who physically got carmy out of the fridge be named terry as well, while chef terry's talk to him in s3e10 was what got him partially out of the fridge mentally is... wild to say the least. making the conscious effort to name the characters like that was definitely a choice

also sydney waiting for him by the door after he got out when claire left while he was still in it? that's some delicious storytelling right there

[symphonypikachu]

"hey sy-on boy come here, i need to copy your notes from class today!"

(damian is so in love with her.)

[keepthetension]

it's been days since wandee goodday episode 05 but i keep thinking about how this guy?

ended up finding someone who cares in the same way

[grand-line-shenanigans]

You made a mistake, Murderbot, a really bad mistake. How the hell was I supposed to know there were transports sentient enough to be mean?

[wordsinhaled]

it was really only a matter of time until edwardian payneland happened and what if i channeled maurice about it. just a little

-

Charles is the son of the groundskeeper at St. Hilarion's School for Boys while Edwin is a pupil there. And he can't help but notice Edwin—how he’s nearly always alone, or else being harangued by the cruel older boys who call themselves his peers.

Charles privately thinks they hardly seem equal to him in poise or grace or manner. They are boisterous, brash, crass, violent, all overlaid with a veneer of false propriety, but Charles can see the cracks in it. He knows that sort by how they are inside, and they cannot be like Edwin at all. No, Edwin Paine's got a sad, drawn sort of look about him that Charles can't help recognizing. This lonely boy who feels somehow kindred in a way he can't put a finger on, but is pulled to him all the same, though by rights he'd do better to keep his distance.

Edwin often sits by the lake by himself, to read, or to do his assignments in the shade of the trees. Picturesque as a painting, he is. One day Charles dares to approach him, though he knows the risk in it—prepared to be rebuffed, rebuked for his untoward attention to someone he is meant to ignore; but the boy does not turn him away.

And so they become friends. Tentative, and then less and less so.

Together they explore the school's sprawling grounds, all of whose surprising hiding-places Charles Rowland knows by heart, having wandered them himself for years and made them his own refuge. The woods become theirs; the shore by the lake theirs; the shade of the trees theirs. The attic, where no one comes to look for them in the dead of night, also theirs.

And then one day Charles notices a group of boys surrounding Edwin. The usual cadre, and they're posturing, their voices loud in the autumn air. They’ve ripped Edwin's penny magazine from his grip and are tearing pages out of it, scattering them to be plucked up by the wind. Charles can do nothing else but step in. He shouts at them to back off, puts himself between them and Edwin, and gets himself thrashed for his trouble—but they, at least, finally leave Edwin alone.

Edwin, for his part, cannot believe Charles would be so reckless for his sake. Charles has not yet mentioned to him that he is used to this sort of treatment, and sees worse at home. They sit together in the boathouse by the lake, cross-legged, close enough for Edwin to dab carefully at Charles’ split lip and bleeding knuckles.

“You should not have done that for me,” he chides, though it carries no heat. “What will happen now?” He thinks word is sure to get back to the school, and there will be a scandal. Those boys, who so vocally despise Edwin, will hardly be quiet in their outrage, their humiliation. Charles’ father might be relieved of his post, and then Charles’ family will have to leave St. Hilarion’s. That is how these things go.

And what was it all for? For Edwin? How could it have been worth it?

“Doesn’t matter, does it?" Charles is saying, when Edwin surfaces from his troubled thoughts. "Couldn’t let them treat you like that. They had you five to one. And that, just ‘cause you’re different. I know how it is.” Charles’ eyelashes are very long, and the light turns his eyes a warm, deep amber as he talks fiercely, insistently, in defense of Edwin.

It’s terribly forward, Edwin thinks. And, despite every misgiving, he welcomes it. No one has ever fought for Edwin before. No one has ever spoken about him with such conviction.

Then Charles seems to lapse into pensiveness. “You didn’t have to…” he says softly. "All this." He gestures, with the free hand Edwin isn’t busy wrapping up, at the little bottle of antiseptic, the scissors, the roll of bandages and the cloths, all spread out on the floorboards between them.

“Of course I did,” Edwin says.

Really, he had not given it much consideration. He had had only the presence of mind to memorize the sight of Charles kneeling in the dew-damp grass, angry gaze still spitting fire at the backs of Edwin’s retreating bullies. He’d had blood in his bared teeth, and the briefest flash of desire had seared through Edwin—to kiss him. Merely in thanks, perhaps, but still, to kiss him.

He would know the warmth of Charles’ mouth. Fleeting, forbidden, it would sear itself into his mind for ever.

Of course, he had done no such thing; for he could not. Instead, he’d done the only thing he could do—bent low towards Charles, and squeezed his shoulder once, as if to say, Wait here for me. I will come back to you.

And as he'd turned on his heel and gone off in the direction of the infirmary, leaving Charles there with dusk encroaching, Edwin had hoped Charles understood his gesture for the indelible promise it was.

[marypsue]

So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."

I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.

Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.

And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.

The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.

(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)

[thereweredragonshere]

I really like your drawing of httyd Hiccup and Toothless ！ They are so adorable that I can enjoy watch it all day, if possible, I want to see more interaction between them!

The boys :)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

this has been a roller coaster of a design journey but finally I can present you: class swap artificer!adaine and rogue!fabian