#I have an emotional attachment to this wet cat

[brianakane]

We must protect him at all costs 😞😞

SELWYN KANE IS MY BABY i absolutely love this idiot

[spiritheaded]

quickly becoming a podcast blog and I am. not mad about it

[tra1nchi]

what if it's a cyborg yan! x human m!reader (bttm)? 🥺🤏🏻

MINORS DNI!! Bttm male reader,,yan,,vibrator,,light choking

You were his creator,,he knew it was wrong for these feelings he had for you,,it was a recent update he has received,,you wanted him to have more broader emotions rather then the basics

Love was what his system called it,,and he felt it tenfold for you,,he didn't realise how bad it started to get truly!! He would start to ignore all other researchers and only cling to you,,no one else but his creator gets to touch him!!

He would start to beg for more of your attention,, more of you,,he would climb into your bed after you like a needy cat,,his cold metal attached to you despite you complaining about how hard and cold was!!

It wasn't until his nightly visits started to turn lewder that you finally understood your mistake,,

Waking up to the sound of soft buzzing was normal in the research lab you loved in,,what wasn't was that you felt the vibrations on the tip of your cock!!

"There you are my love, thought you'd never wake up!" His voice was cheerful as his fingers buzzed,,playfully rubbing the tip of your cock,,he must have been at it for a while from how wet it was

"You've been ignoring me all day..I need my master you know?" He whines out,,continously talking even as your back starts to arch while he slides his fingers down to underside of your dick!!

Leaning up further against you,,his finger now moved to your nipple,,pressing down on it as his buzzing got even more powerful!! "You're my master..if anyone else touched you..my systems can't imagine what I'd do." He sighs,,his other hand moving to your neck lightly wrapping around it in a protective manner

All your coworkers could hear after that were your pleasured moans and cries,,he would never allow you to hide them,,

Now you just need to work out how to delete it from his systems.. quickly

[triptychgardener]

What does becoming a furry in Homestuck mean? (In reference to your recent Nepeta post)

Okay so the thing is the way that Homestuck treats furries is honestly kind of equivalent to how it treats queerness. As in, Homestuck initially treats it like a joke or a thing to mostly sneer at. Homestuck was very much part of the wave of disaffected ironic assholes of the Newgrounds and Something Awful type, especially to start with, and that sort of relied on shitting on demographics that were seen as weird and permissible to find cringe and make fun of.

Jade comes onto the scene, and a lot of people sort of groan at her whole furry shtick. Jade is largely, however, just a pretty sincere character, and even though she feels some embarassment over the idea of BEING a furry (i.e. her distaste for the idea of actually wearing a fursuit) she nonetheless begins the admirable refrain of combining the finest qualities of humanity with the elegance and nobility of the animal kingdom.

Her earnest affection for all things anthropomorphic sets up more than just her excellent taste. And as much as she is a bit of a pattern-breaker, one pattern she doesn't break is that of having a Signature Animal.

The four beta kids have a bunch of different things associated with them: the four elements, four items, four musical instruments. But the animals are practically integral to who they are as people and characters.

John's attachment to the bunny is obvious, and helps to spur on one of the most emotional scenes in the comic. (For him. Him specifically.)

It's also something deeply precious to him, as it's a gift from every single one of his friends in a very roundabout fashion!

For Rose, Jaspers is half the reason she decided to play the game in the first place. She missed her dead cat so dearly she was willing to play a game that might end the world for it.

(Pictured above, Rose lying about her feelings, water is wet.)

Dave seems to at least feel some affection for crows, or at least shame when he kills them.

And his fusing to become Davesprite is what allows him to survive as a "copy" of the original Dave. Once again, Dave's disaffected irony giving way to the necessity of becoming a furry to save the world.

And for Jade, of course, Bec.

And it's notable that, by the end of the comic, at least THREE of our main beta kids have merged with their animals, and, in a way, become the best versions of themselves.

Jade obviously gets to achieve her dream of becoming a furry, and in doing so gaining power and agency that she was always denied due to her position in the story.

Davepeta, as I stated in a previous post, is the true Final Form of Dave, the pawn that made it to the end of the board, the only surviving character from Homestuck's "original" timeline, and is truly happy with themselves.

And Jasprose appears to have fully hurled herself through the walls Rose put up around herself to protect her image, and thus absolutely mortifies Rose. She just seems to be having a great time.

Homestuck evolved from a story that was deeply cynical and mean-spirited about furrydom, to a story where three of our four starting protagonists, in their truest most powerful forms, combine the qualities of man and beast to achieve self-actualization. And to bring this back around to queerness, these three characters also happen to be canonically queer. So there's that.

This isn't even to get into how this might relate to Troll Lusii and the concept of "growing up" to be more like one's parent on a planet raised by animals, but that's for another day.

[heehoonies]

I mean,Jungwon having a big package would be a pleasant yet frightening surprise

Like wdym this kitten is huge?

ik this isn't what you asked for necessarily but i wanted to write kitty jungwon and his barbed cock so this is what u get

and NO the barbs aren't painful like they are for irl cats. they just make it feel more snug by attaching to the walls. THEY DON'T PIERCE THE WALLS THO DON'T WORRY our dear reader is very safe with his barbed cock :3

.

“mm, my pretty kitty,” you smile up at jungwon who towers above you, ears twitching as your eyes bore into his. his gaze shifts around the room, failing to meet your eye, shyness crashing over his form. you bring your hands to his belt, fiddling with the buckle lightly. “gonna be a good baby for me?”

jungwon nods, quiet purrs leaving his barely parted lips as his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your gentle hands dangerously close to his aching dick.

“so pretty, wonie…” you whisper, making his belt go slack as you now tug at the button of his jeans, unzipping the denim quickly. your body flushes at the feeling of his length already hard, pushing against you through the barrier of his pants. you silence your mind as you pull his jeans down. the imprint of his bulge is already making your head spin, jungwon being way too big for the way he's acting right now, and you haven't even taken him out of his briefs yet.

the sensation of your delicate fingers ghosting over his impossibly hard length makes jungwon groan, his purrs growing louder and vibrating through your body now, traveling between the place where the two of you are connected.

you pull his underwear down just low enough to allow his cock to escape, the sight before you ripping a groan from your throat. your eyes are wide as you stare longingly at his length, wetness brewing at your core. you squish your thighs together to hide your overwhelming arousal at the sheer size of him.

jungwon has a fucking monster in his pants.

your mouth starts to water, drool nearly spilling out. jungwon watches you with confusion in his gaze, growing more embarrassed.

“i– jungwon…” you sputter, unable to tear your gaze from his length before you.

“what?” he squeaks, and you grow wetter at the fact that he’s confused in this moment, completely unaware of the effect he’s having on you.

“fuck, won… y-you’re huge!”

jungwon watches you with a confused expression, finally noticing the signs of you being unable to contain yourself. “i-i didn’t know…” he confesses, and he watches a gasp leave your plump lips at the sound of his voice reaching your red tipped ears.

“oh my god…” you whisper, finally tearing your gaze from his dick and looking him in the eye. jungwon notes how the fire in your eyes is gone, filled with something completely new, an emotion that he’s all too familiar with.

submission.

a switch clicks in jungwon’s brain as he studies your quivering form, thighs squished together to prevent your wetness from leaking out any further. his ears twist inquisitively, smirk growing on his lips. “you like what you see?”

you nod dumbly, mouth going dry as you see a different look in his eye, accompanied by a now swishing tail, watching you like you’re his prey.

“oh, my baby has nothing to say now, hmm?” the gravel in his voice has you whining aloud, pleading eyes gazing up at him, unsure of what you’re even begging for.

jungwon places one knee onto the bed, trapping you from one side. he leans down and the proximity has you racing to crawl backwards. he shifts forward, looming over you as you scramble backwards until you reach the headboard with a small thud. “nowhere for you to go, my pretty baby.”

you whimper, lip quivering into a pout as your slick begins to seep through your underwear and through your shorts, making a wet patch on the bed beneath you. jungwon inhales, the scent of you permeating his space easily, the essence of you seeping into his bloodstream easily as his dick twitches.

jungwon is quick to tear the offending fabric off of your body, throwing the garments elsewhere. your heat pulses from the sudden exposure to the cold, the contrasting sensations sending shivers through your body. jungwon feels electricity buzzing beneath his skin as he surges forward, further invading your space. his angry tip bullies its way inside your fluttering hole, ripping a scream from your body.

“fuck! jungwon, hold on!”

“can’t wait any longer–” jungwon groans as he pushes his length further into your hole, throwing his head back at the tight squeeze of your wet walls surrounding him. “you can take it.”

your entire body shakes, overwhelmed to the highest degree as it feels like he’s moving in slow motion, everything is too still around you as your walls never seem to get used to him, not budging at all as he presses further inside. jungwon stills for a moment after he’s pressed himself to the hilt, petting your hair gently in a way that’s almost patronizing.

“see? told you you could take it.”

“jungwon–” you groan, hole stinging as it tries to stretch to accommodate his length more comfortably. something shifts, and you somehow feel they’ve gotten tighter all of a sudden. “what the fuck agh!– w-what is that?!”

jungwon leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss, one you can’t reciprocate due to the further stretch due to his sudden movement, the lean causing him to press further, nearly kissing your cervix. “ah fuck!”

“one thing about cat hybrids, baby…” jungwon ghosts his lips over your own, trapping warmth between your bodies. your fluttering walls feel tighter than before, all thanks to the barbs on his length. “they’re always gonna be the best fuck of your life.”

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

I love the way you write Logan, it's so comforting! Can't wait to see more of your work, it's lovely💗

Idk if this would be your thing so feel free to ignore obviously!

How do you think Logan's dynamic would be with a reader having intense intimacy issues, to the point where they struggle to even think about doing anything more than make out with him? I really haven't found any fic like that and I think that you would a concept like that more than justice

I do see him having some intimacy issues himself (traumatized wet cat💀)

this is so sweet, thank you so much! My brain immediately supplied a list of head canons, I hope that you enjoy <3

~ So I am thinking about Logan from the original trilogy for these in particular ~ He definitely has some intimacy issues, more so on the emotional intimacy side than physical intimacy ~That is, until he meets you. You're a professor at the school, and while he can tell you love the young mutants with a large part of your heart, you remain physically distant from them. When the Youngers ones reach for a hug, you meet them instead with a fist bump or a high five. Never cruel, but always setting your boundary. ~The first time you catch him noticing your habit, you expect him to roll his eyes, or hit you with a judgy side eye. Instead, he quirks his head and resumes what he had previously been doing. ~Eventually, the two of you start spending a lot more time together. He will nudge a cup of coffee your way, and ask after you when you have a headache. He never encroaches on your space, despite being quite touchy with the other faculty.

~You spend a week working up the courage to confront him about it, strategizing the best way to ask for the reassurance you want but have trouble asking for. You expect him to blow you off, but when you knock on his door, he ushers you inside and lets you choose where to sit in the room, choosing his seat to be close enough to show he is invested but far enough away for your comfort. It isn't even a conscious thought for him, it's natural. ~You fumble through your question, doing your best to explain your line of thinking, before eventually just spitting out "do you hate me?" ~He is so shocked that he doesn't know what to say for a few seconds, which only makes your anxiety feel worse. ~He takes a few seconds, collecting his thoughts, and then you can see the typical Logan smirk start sparkling in his eye again. "Sweetheart, it's a little hard to hate the person you're acting a fool over". Your eyes practically bug out of your skull, and he chuckles to himself. He is twitching in his seat, and you can tell he is trying his best to not gather you up in his arms. ~You extend a hand out to him, palm upturned. He takes it instantly. He raises your entwined hands halfway towards his mouth, before meeting your eyes and waiting for your reaction. ~You nod, holding your breath and he drops a kiss on the back of your hand, before adjusting so that he can kiss your palm as well. ~When he hears your heartbeat stutter, he is quick to hold your hand again, resting against his knee. He confirms that you feel the same way, insistent on getting verbal confirmation. Your face feels like it is on fire, but you reply in the affirmative. "We are going to take this as slow as you need. I... I care about you so much, and your comfort always comes before anything else." ~You feel a few tears well up, and he moves to wipe them away as they begin to fall. Again, he pauses before actually making contact with your face, waiting for your gentle nod. ~From that day on, you are even more attached at the hip than before. Logan loves knowing that you are with him for more than his body, and he is constantly making sure that you know how much he values you. ~Overall, I just imagine him being very sweet and understanding and taking it as slow as you need. He is protective of you when you meet new people, often coming in between you and others who are not as considerate as he thinks they should be. Definitely sends his protective instincts into a bit of an overdrive, but you also appreciate having the scary dog privilege when you are out in public as well. People are definitely giving you a wider berth than you are used to. You always feels safe and taken care of with him, which is exactly how he wants it to be

[chimerical-daydreams]

Hiiiiii for that pre king wish au. Is Loop going to deal with the repercussions of Siffrin always drifting and never finding an anchor? He was just a traveller, moving forward day by day, with nothing new or exciting to live for... until he met the family :3 BUT NOT WITHOUT THE KING-

OK SO. i have Many Thoughts about this, so bare with me here.

Loop, having gone through the Same Two Days for so long they've lost count of time, has a complicated relation with predictability and stagnation. On one hand, if nothing changes, then they can just follow the script, and they'll know what to expect. On the other hand, they'd rather die than be stuck repeating the same lines over and over again, not after finally being freed. And now, by a twist of fate, they're face to face with the past version of the monster they were fighting so hard to defeat.

I think, at first, they stick around as a helpful "guiding figure" while they sort through their own feelings and decide if they're gonna kill this guy or not. After much deliberation and one failed murder attempt, they decide to let him be. Unfortunately for them, in this time they've grown attached to the sobbing wet cat of a man they were stuck with (the King is actually very similar to Siffrin in this AU, so he probably hits a soft spot within Loop, that remembers the horrible feeling of confusion when they first landed in Vaugarde).

After the emotional tumult settles, I think that King intends to go to Corbeaux as per cannon, and Loop (without any better things to do), follows. On the way there, though, they pass by Bambouche, and Loop is hit by the Dread as they watch a slightly younger Bonnie with their sister run by them without giving them a second glance (well, they do look their way, but with confusion and curiosity instead of recognition). That's when it hits Loop that no one in their family is ever going to meet each other because the disaster they bonded over never happens.

I'm still mulling over how I'm gonna make this happen, but I want Loop to put the gang back together with the King's help (maybe on the pretense of finding more about the forgotten nation?). Loop clings to this purpose like a goddamn lifeline, because otherwise, as you mentioned, they would just go back to wandering aimlessly, stumbling around in a land that is not theirs. They want their happy ending because, after All of This? They deserve it.

(On an addendum, there is also a Siffrin in this AU, back when they still kept his hair dyed black.)

(On a second note, I'm currently making those in-game character profiles for the ones who don't have them yet - Loop, King and Nille - so. Uh. There is more to come 👍)

[jymwahuwu]

Yandere Jing yuan and aphrodisiac that's the thought also I think it would be fun if like he was so excited to have sex that he accidentally switches the cups and he gets extra horny for reader

I think Jing Yuan will rarely lose control and reveal his truest desire for you…😚💕

CW: yandere, non-con, aphrodisiac, harassment, breaking into your home

Like a small gift, the icing on the cake for your "love life". Jing Yuan hopes that you will be more active, moaning in pleasure and riding his cock, so he orders an aphrodisiac. It is a proven harmless aphrodisiac that just adds a little more fun between lovers. As he poured the aphrodisiac into your drink, the general couldn't help but imagine you biting your lip in embarrassment, rage, and reluctance. Your lovely nipples will be hard and swollen, petals slowly oozing clear fluid, trembling under his leonine, hunting gaze.

You will scold him with shame and anger, but you can only slowly open your legs and wait for his cock…

Jing Yuan stopped himself from fantasizing and took your and his drinks out of the living room. You were a little numb to the fact that this harasser broke into your home again and even brewed drinks for you, so you just motioned for him to put down those drinks. He leisurely pulled you onto his lap and watched the movie with you, his hands occasionally teasing your breasts. Speechlessly, you tried to divert your attention and ignore the right hand that was rubbing your breasts. So, you casually picked up one of the warm cups and took a sip. Jing Yuan also took a few sips, but realized that the taste was different.

It was a drink laced with aphrodisiacs.

Jing Yuan's face didn't show any change in emotion, and he didn't care that he accidentally drank an aphrodisiac. He calmly waited for the tent to go up. Sitting on his lap, you realized it immediately and turned your head. "Y-You again…!! We were just watching a movie…!"

Your wrist is grabbed. A pair of soft lips kissed you, lingering and sweet, with a strong desire. "I know, I know… One round… Just do it once…" It was a little more urgent than before. Those hands pulled your top up, exposing your breasts. Jing Yuan didn't completely take off your shirt. The sleeves stopped on your arms to restrict your movements. Then his hands skillfully stripped off the loungewear on your lower body and threw your slightly wet underwear on the sofa.

The general held you firmly down. Although he is already attached to you on weekdays, you always feel that he is still wearing a mask of calmness. The calmness of having everything under his control. A rare blush appeared on his cheeks. He placed countless kisses on your neck and chest, moaning softly and uncontrollably, like a clingy big cat in heat. "Baby…" His hard cock pressed against your soaked slit through the fabric, rubbing desperately. It's not an excuse to say you need it, but he really needs you. That purest desire and true self envelope you.

That swollen cock head thrust and exploited eagerly, bottoming out deep inside you. You were still crying in fear as you were being thrust, and the wet slapping sound lingered in your ears, repeated. That's the sound of you being completely reproduced. Warm seed spurts inside you. "Don't be like this…" He held your cheek and kissed you softly, the tip of his tongue colliding with yours, sealing your voice, as if you were just saying "be gentle to me" instead of "no" .

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang now you got me curious... thoughts on ex boyfriend bakugou? 👀

he is a wet cat kdjhsdkjsd

i really think bkg is a "mate for life" kind of a guy. if he's in a serious relationship he does not plan on breaking up ever. very "i'd rather start over with you than anyone else even if we have to do it 100 times". so if you're breaking up - the chances the break up isn't a hot emotional mess is slim to none

and the chances that bkg was the one to initiate is fucking zero. once you're in the relationship you're in it, and while he's not gonna stop you from backing out, you're basically it for him. like. forever. he has a hard job and love was alr the bottom of his priority list.

to be honest i think he's a little bit more of a soggy guy than we'd like to believe. everyone thinks he's going to be really...? angry about the situation. but he's actually just. alarmingly sad. there's something really hollow about him and he's still very very kind to you and very amicable but he always sort of looks like he's in pain. he speaks much more gently and is way less playfully gruff in a way that's very gutting.

even once he gets over that, he doesn't know how to butt out of your life. he wants too so much. he really does but he can't. you became his person so long ago and now what? you want him to pretend that's not true?

bkg will respect ur boundaries if you enforce them. and he certainly won't chase after you if he feels like you don't want him anymore.

it's not him who chases after you but his friends dfkjkfhs. bkg is a person who by all intents and purposes - is defined by the relationships he's made. and his friends know more intimately than you ever will, how much you mean to him. they're also ceo of meddling lmao so just. one after the other you get messages like hey....... and its so insane

they all meddle trying to get you two fall back in love like a shitty hallmark movie. you practically never see bkg cry, but once the two of you are alone in a room and you ask if he really misses you, he sort of turns his head and says fucking obviously - all while sniffling a bit. and it just sort of strikes you that maybe it's worth it trying to work it out one more time

i would love to write him in a hot sexy way but i actually think he gets DEEPLY pathetic as an ex in a very not fun way KJSDHKJF. our emotionally well-adjusted but ultimately riddled with attachment issues king.

[lowkeyrobin]

MCYT with an S/O who fosters kittens? :D

OH MY LORD YESYESYESHDNSKDNDN I had sm inspo w this bc I have 5 cats (cats are one of my favorite things ever I swear) and yeah dkkdkd THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST

MCYT ; you foster kittens

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, & slimecicle

warnings ; language, talk of harm towards animals

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

genuinely feels so bad when you have to let the cats go

like he tears up nearly every fucking time

he watches some of these poor cats go from aggressive and distant, barely able to eat because they don't trust you yet, to warm, loving and cuddly little creatures

he literally watches them grow and he gets so emotional cause like why can't you keep all of them???

he'll be off to the side when you're handing them away to a new home wiping his tears

he's more emotional about it than you

he gifts you like new cat food bowls and cat towers and stuff once they get all beaten to a pulp

if you're fostering more than like three at a time, he'll have a gang of them on his lap while he's editing, recording, or lounging around

his hands are always covered in scratches and scars because he'll fuck around and find out even after you warn him about them being feisty at first

"this one got ran over by a car and he's blind now"

"can we keep him?? :("

RANBOO

like tubbo, it warms his heart to see you care so much about the poor babies that just need a little help readjusting and understanding that not all people are bad/you're there to help them

absolutely loves when you bring back like little feisty babies that barely know how to walk but know how to hiss

they can't help but laugh like "awe oh my god, this is so sad but it's so cute"

when I tell you all those cats are so spoiled by them

it's sweet though, he really cares about all the cats you take in too, you honestly foster them together at this point

you guys end up keeping this tuxedo cat with one eye and name it Jellyfish (as per chats vote)

the amount of fanart of you two with jellyfish 💔💔💔 so cute

jellyfish becomes the mom of all the new fosters and looks over them and shit, that way they ease into the new environment a little better

buys all the fosters outfits. there's a barbie sized closet for all the clothes

FREDDIE BADLINU

it's like there's a new cat every week considering he brings back street cats as well LMAO

these mf cats are SO SPOILED but they deserve it

he gets so attached to the disabled ones because he loves having to help them out

he loves teaching them how to eat from his hands too

it's so funny, like they'll nick his fingers and he'll be like "fuck, that tickles, Mr. Peanut!"

gets so emotional when you have to give them to better homes

like hugs and kisses them goodbye 4 times

he genuinely thinks your magic, watches those cats go from shy and trying to stay away from you to like being attached to you by the hip and all wagging their tails

he's constantly running around the house playing with them too

he loves seeing them pop up on 2 legs like meerkats when he's serving them wet food or treats LMAO

NIKI NIHACHU

she couldn't care less that the house is loaded with cat stuff and a whole room is filled with cat towers, shelves and toys for them

loves making new little puzzles/mazes for the cats with the shelves, making a little competition to see who can get to the top fastest

she names the cats because she's gonna get attached either way, but after a while they become more and more silly

like they go from Sebastian and Pixel to Tater Tot and Simon From Alvin And The Chipmunks so quickly

she learns how to make homemade cat treats as well

she also, like ranboo, gets a little barbie closet and fills it with cat outfits

some cats like the outfits and others don't, but the ones who do, good god it's like britney manson on the runway

absolute ws in that house, photoshoots for days

QUACKITY

"AH WHAT THE FUCK? Y/n! come get Jessie and Walter, they've invaded my stream!"

he genuinely names most the foster cats characters from meme shows/movies/memes in general

actually named one Badass Grandmas Meme ; also named another Hurricane Tortilla after that one vine

always taking .5s of the cats once they've accepted that he exists as well

sometimes they hop on his desk and join the stream

"Oh, look! it's Goldfish, she's the newest foster that y/n took in"

constantly taking pictures of you and the fosters throughout the stages of rehabilitation

from hissing and scratching to cuddling on the couch and lazy naps

no cat leaves without a little pair of sunglasses

he's genuinely inspired to make quackity cat merch because most of the fosters you take in LOVE clothes LMAO

FOOLISH GAMERS

literally treats these mfs as babies

you'll walk in and see him holding one of the elderly cats you're rehabiliting from a bad home whom just got rescued and he's holding this poor girl like a literal infant

she loves it though, most the cats do

the fosters love playing with his hair too, and he plays into it, always bends down to their level and wobbles his hair around for them to smack around and try to chew on

he has such a soft spot for them

if you're having one of those rare moments where you might give up on a cat, he's right there to try and help you

flea baths on kittens are always done by him, he feels so bad for each of them, meanwhile you're on cat-drying duty and giving them a lil medication to kill any remaining fleas

he's 50/50 on names at first but gives up with trying to not name them bc he gets attached anyways

"Oh, lookit! this is Evergreen, she's been chilling with us for like, 3 months I think"

he loves when they interrupt his streams bc they're so cute and explorative and curious LMAO

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

he's the most supportive of you fostering cats like ever

loves fucking around with them and sliding them around on the floor, if there's any long hair cats, he loops very loose bows and clips around their fur and shit

cradles them like babies to sleep

and then slips them into the cat tower or on the couch/bed etc

even covers them with a little blanket

"Oh shit, they've invaded, they're raiding! the axe weilding brothers are here!"

gives them the most dumbass names like Microwave Popcorn and Toaster Strudle

he frames pictures of every cat in the hallway once they leave

[dsireland86]

I Fucked Up

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h

It was just a fight, right? You'd be back once the dust settled, and you had cooled down some. You always did.

Folio stood there in the glow of the red exit light, eyes still glued to the door after it had slammed shut moments ago. You walked out, finally finished with the lame ass justifications and excuses he'd been giving you since last night. It was just a party, you told her. It was just a fan. There were no feelings attached at all, but that only seemed to make the situation worse. She said she saw enough, heard enough, and now.... finally felt enough.

It's not like he slept with the girl. Didn't even come close to it. It's just that between the weed, the alcohol, and the mood, Folio allowed the girl, who'd been overly friendly since she and her friends showed up at the after show party, to do a little more than he expected her to do.

Noah and Jolly always told him he was a little naive when it came to women. But that's why you loved him, why the two of you connected the moment you met. She wasn't like all the other girls, and you weren't like all the other guys.

Folio fucked up. Bad. Panic rose in his chest, and his mouth suddenly went dry. His hands that still held his drum sticks shook with fear over the idea of losing you. What he did last night with that girl as she sat comfortably on his lap; the kissing, the thigh grabbing, the way she ran her hand over the one and only thing that belonged to you, squeezing and massaging it in hopes to achieve the result from him that she wanted, but couldn't... because it wasn't you. Only you knew how to make him cum in your hand.

Folio was losing you. Fast, and he couldn't function properly to figure out what to do next. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of not having you as his. You were his world, his stability, the love of his life.

Pulling the little black box out of his pocket, Folio wiped the escaped tear away, staring hard at the box as if would tell him what he should do, but he heard only silence. That's when the emotional anger took over. Balling his hand into a tight fist, Folio threw a hard punch at the wall, putting a large dent with a small hole in it. "Fuck!" He looked down at his knuckles already bleeding.

"You know, that's coming out of your paycheck."

Folio turned around to see Matt standing behind him, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"Fuck! I'm sorry, Matt. I shouldn't have done that." Folio apologized, running his good hand through his wet hair to get it out of his eyes.

Matt shrugged, moving away from the wall towards Folio. "Yeah, whatever. The guy running this place is a fucking dick anyway." He grabbed a napkin off the snack table on his way over, taking Folio's hand and applying it to his bloody knuckles.

"I fucked up, Matt. I fucked up so bad. There's no way she'll marry me now if she feels like she can't trust me." Matt could hear the panic and fear in Folio’s voice. Honestly, even he was a little surprised by Nick's behavior last night, but was willing to believe his friend's admission more than she was at this point.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Folio. She has a tendency of surprising people. Remember when she first started hanging out with us, and Nicholas accidentally dropped his entire cup of coffee all over her brand new white leggings because of the cat he saw that was about to get hit. Dude, Noah and I thought she was going to freak the hell out, but instead, she took off running with Nicholas after that damn cat. In the end, they were laughing hysterically."

Folio laughed at the memory. It was the same day he asked her out on their first date. He'd walked into the bathroom while she changed, but instead of yelling at him to leave, she told him to stay since he'd already seen her underwear. That's when he kissed her for the first time.

"What about when we went bowling, and Stephen dropped the 11 lb bowling ball on her foot?" Folio wrinkled his nose remembering how bruised her foot got after that. "A few moments of choice words under breath and two shots of spiced rum later, she made sure that Stephen didn't feel bad about it and eventually the two of them were so drunk, they were singing their own karaoke versions of Bad Omens songs." "Holy shit, that was so horrible."

Matt and Folio shared a few moments of a good laugh. Folio found himself a little more hopeful that maybe this could turn out better than he thought. Maybe.

Matt patted Nick on the shoulder and removed the napkin from his knuckles. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but slight bruising was already starting to show.

"That's going to definitely make playing a lot harder." Folio shrugged. "My punishment." Matt raised an eyebrow. "Your ass is grass if it fucks up my front of house." Folio chuckled. "Anyway, Noah’s with her. He took her to the roof of the bus and is just sitting with her." Folio sighed, but the tension returned.

Noah hopped down the ladder, his long legs reaching the ground a lot sooner than Folio’s would have. "What the hell happened to you?" Folio looked down at his knuckles. "The wall and I had a fight," he answered pathetically. Noah scoffed. "Who won?" Folio held up his hand, showing Noah the bruising and partially dried blood. "Apparently, the wall." Noah chuckled.

"She's hurt, man. Her heart," Noah shook his head. "She's really trying to understand what happened and not be upset with you. She loves you more than anything else, and she knows you love her too. That's why none of it makes sense to her." Folio nodded, indicating he understood. "What do I do, Noah? How do I fix this?" Noah took a deep breath, sighing. "If I were you, I'd be completely transparent. Tell her exactly how you feel, whether you think it's important or not. Right now, she's in protective mode. Her guard is up, and it's going to take a lot of talking and understanding to help her get past this. But," and Noah laid his hand on Folio's shoulder, "she's vulnerable and is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you, Nick. You're her world. You mean everything to her. That's why this whole thing hurts her so badly. She just needs to know she's safe." Folio nodded again as Noah patted him on the back.

She looked like a shadow sitting all alone up there in the dark. The soft breeze of the night ripped through her hair, causing some of it to flutter in her face. Folio couldn't see it, but he already knew how beautiful she looked. "Now, that's a view," he said, sitting down next to her in the spot where Noah just was. He looked out into the darkness, at the bright lights of the city that lit up the night like the sun. She didn't respond to him in any way, just continued to sit there in silence. From the lights of the city, Folio could now vaguely see the outline of her face, those same features that he would gaze at often while laying next to her in their bed. Her button nose, her pouty pink lips, her soft cheeks, they made his heart flutter, and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss each one. But Folio knew better. She needed her space.

They sat in silence for some time. Folio placed his hands alongside him, stretching out his legs. The slight breeze brought a chill, and he saw her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked, not expecting her to answer, but she slowly nodded. His heart began to race. "Do you want my hoodie? I know you," "Yes, please," she said quickly, cutting him off. Folio almost slipped off the bus from shock. Regaining his balance, he quickly removed his hoodie and slipped it over her, hearing a satisfying sigh. "Better?" "Better," she whispered.

Feeling overwhelmed with fear, Folio knew he had to address the situation head-on before it was too late. "I fucked up. I know I did, and I'm sorry. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt us. I was just caught up in the fucking moment and I, shit, I just wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you, for breaking your trust in me, for making think or feel the wrong things.... fuck, I'm sorry." Folio hung his head, placing both hands on either side of his head. He couldn't hold back the little bit of tears that escaped and dripped onto his black jeans. His shoulders shook from the pain he was feeling inside, knowing that nothing he said or did was going to fix what was broken. It was over, and he knew it.

She sat quietly, listening to Folio pour out his heart to her. His apology after apology hit her heart each time like an arrow, piercing the thin layer of anger and pride that had already begun to grow. She knew, without a doubt, that Nick was sorry for what happened, and if she was being completely honest with herself, she was blowing the whole thing a little bit out of proportion. Folio had managed to stop it before it went too far, even though Noah had to step in and help a little. He never touched the girl inappropriately even though she'd managed to run her grubby paws over the one and only thing that could make her weak as fuck and bring out the porn star side of her. Just the thought of someone else trying to stake a claim on what belonged to her infuriated her. Truth was, she wasn't as mad and upset at Folio anymore now that he'd been honest with her and admitted he'd messed up. She guessed maybe that was the only thing her heart needed; to hear Folio apologize and admit he was wrong.

"Thank you." Folio stilled at her words. "What?" he asked, raising his head and staring at her, confused. "Thank you," she repeated, this time turning her head to look at him. His heart fell to the pit of his stomach at just the sight of her beautiful face. God, he was so fucking lucky. "Thank you? For what?" Folio sniffed, sitting up straight as she climbed into his lap. What the hell was happening? She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, placing her hands on either side of his face. Folio kissed the pads of her thumbs as she ran the back and forth over his lips. "I'm so confused, baby. What are," but his words were cut off by the pressure of her lips against his. The hunger and need Nick felt in just that one kiss was enough to set his world on fire and his nerves ablaze. He fucking wanted her, needed her like the air he breathed. She grinded against him slowly, up and down with her pussy centered right on top of his cock. Whatever was happening, Folio wasn't about to stop it.

"I just have one question, and then we're never talking about it again." The seriousness in her eyes was paralyzing. "Alright. What is it?" Folio asked, swallowing hard. "Would you have fucked her?" "No!" "Why not?" Folio grabbed her hips and pulled her closer into him, loving the slight whimper of a cry he heard in response. "Because she wasn't you, sweetheart, and you're the only one my dick belongs to." His eyes darted between hers, long and hard, until finally she smiled, and after one look at his lips, she kissed him again. Folio allowed her to take full control, using him for whatever she needed him for, because no matter what, he knew she loved him. Her fingers unhurriedly found his belt buckle, and he helped her undo it the second he felt her tug on it. She undid his jeans and pulled them along with his boxers down, lifting his ass up just enough for her to get them to his ankles, where he was able to toss them off.

"Mine," she said, taking Folio’s semi-hard cock into her hands. She wrapped her hand tightly around him and began her magical work of bringing him to the edge of sanity with just the use of her hand. "Oh, my god baby," Folio moaned, leaning back on his hands and throwing his head back, sighing at the feeling. Her fingers pinched his fully hard tip while her thumb spread the pre-cum that seeped from the tiny hole it worked open. This was his Achilles heel. Whether she was using her fingers or her mouth, only she knew it was the quickest and fastest way to make him cum. But that thought was ripped away the moment she removed her hand from him. The sudden loss made him whimper.

Innocently, she stared at him, searching his eyes for something. "What, sweetheart, what are you looking for?" He used a hand to caress the side of her face. She didn't answer, just continued to stare as she pushed her shorts and panties to the side. Holding two fingers up to Folio’s mouth, she told him to spit, to which he willingly obeyed. Using his spit as lubricant, which utterly wrecked Folio, making him wonder how in the fuck he deserved a woman like the one that was about fuck him on the roof of his bands tour bus, she aligned his hard cock against her heated aching pussy and slide herself onto him, biting her bottom lip as he pushed himself in, stretching her like it was first time, again.

"Goddamn, sweetheart, holy fuck!" She never broke eye contact with Folio, even as her pace quickened a little. "Fuck, ughh god baby you feel fucking amazing," he moaned quietly, holding her tightly against him so he could feel every inch of her soaking wet walls. "You're so wet, baby," he panted, already feeling the effects of her tight pussy clenched around his throbbing dick as she continued grinding, nice and slow, on him. "You're hiding something from me. What?" Her question startled him, but it didn't surprise him. Folio knew she could always read him like a book. She stilled with him still buried inside her. "Reach inside the pocket," he told her, eyeing his hoodie she was still wearing. She did as she was told but froze the moment her hand hit the box. "Pull it out." Her gaze was heavily laced with apprehension. "It's okay, just pull it out," Folio encouraged her. She did. The little black box sat perfectly in the palm of her hand.

"Nick," she gulped, her voice trembling. "Open it." Tears filled her eyes, but she bravely opened the box and gasped at the small yet stunning silver diamond ring. "Marry me, please." Folio licked his lips nervously, unable to keep his own tears away. The way she gazed at him made Folio think she was about to say no. She looked from him, to the ring, and then back to Nick. "Okay." Folio swallowed, clenching his jaw. " You will?" He was afraid he didn't hear her right." But she nodded her head. "Yes! I'll marry you, Nick." Without realizing it, Folio released the breath he'd been holding. Taking the small ring from out of the box, he slipped it on the ring finger of her left hand, bringing it to his lips where he kissed it, then placed it against his chest. Without another word, she began moving against him again, this time harder and faster, pulling Folio towards the edge quickly.

"God you fuck me so good baby." Folio whispered the harder she grinded her pussy against him. "That sweet little pussy belongs to this dick, doesn't it?" She nodded quickly. "Holy shit baby, yeah, right there, don't stop. Oh fuck." Folio squeezed his eyes shut, his entire face twisting in a mixture of pleasure and pain as the pressure of release became strong. "Fuck me harder baby girl, you're gonna make me cum!" He clenched her hips tightly, moving her back and forth on him to get her a little deeper. Her lips found his, devouring him as she tasted and the inside of his mouth with her tongue. He pulled her top lip between his and sucked right before pressing his tongue against hers and fighting for dominance. "Fuck yeah baby, right there, shit!" She grabbed his face between her hands and locked him in a deep dark stare. "Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me." Her soft tone and warm whispers was all Folio needed. "Ughh, god- fuck!" Folio bit down on one of his good knuckles, spilling his release inside her and coating her inner walls with his seed. They were both out of breath, panting and hearts racing. She stared at the ring on her finger, unable to stop smiling. "You like it?" Folio asked, finally catching his breath. She looked up at him with a smile. "I love it," she replied, looking back down. Folio could tell she was fighting more tears. " Hey, come here, sweetheart." He pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up tightly with his arms; the place where she always felt the safest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you." She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you. I love you, and I forgive you. It's over now. Let's move on." Folio agreed as she laid back into him, still looking at the ring.

"I owe you," Folio said, catching her as she jumped down off the ladder. She grinned, thinking about what Folio did whenever he owed her. He always made up for it in more ways than one. "You bet your ass you do," softly slapping him in the chest. "I might have a few ideas that I know will please my fiancé." Her face lit up with the word. "Fiancé!" Jolly's voice rang out. Folio held up her left hand to show him. "About fucking time, dude!" Jolly exclaimed, giving Folio a hand slap with a hug. "Happy for you, man." "Thanks, Jolly." Folio focused his eyes on her, smiling at the happiness that graced her face. He never thought his fuck up would've led to this, but it did. And now he was the happiest he'd ever been with the only girl he loved.

[tiredfoxtf]

YEAHHHH GRIWT!! Everytime I would see those "everybody in hermitcraft feels sorry for chommy and coddles him" fics I would be like ?? He would burn their builds down and curse the whole time What Are You Saying. Cdream would be a /much/ better candidate for the position of "wet cat is coddled by hermitcraft". He would be so impressed and appreciative of their builds!!!! "And nobody destroys things? Ever?" "Well, not ever, but nobody would purposefully grief and not at least help them fix things" *dream on the verge of tears* "Oh"

like the most basic whump fic pretense EVER and there's LIKE TWO OF THEM MAX

Cdream would be like "so... the server is basically one big happy family?" "Yeah, you could say that, some "cousins" are really annoying and there's this 'crazy uncle' that usually lives on the other end of the world, but that's probably how most would describe it" and cDream is just having a meltdown on the inside. Like damn there are so many attachments and beautiful builds and everyone is doing their thing and there's no Real brutal war and no one holds everything you care about over your head? Unbelievable. It's like all he ever wanted!!! And no one has to sacrifice ANYTHING for it. And brother don't get me started on the emotional damage that Gri's killing games would bring to his poor soul. Three lives only? And all you have can be destroyed and will be taken hostage? Full of bloodlust and murder? Yeah, you don't have to tell him twice, he is already shutting down, hyperventilating.

[ambassadorarlert]

a compilation of some of my personal armin head canons. lmk if i should do another. this is kinda long, sorry not sorry. <33 NSFW 18+ ONLY MDNI

scorpio sun, virgo moon, capricorn rising.

- sun in scorpio: emotional and compassionate / intense and mysterious

- moon in virgo: service minded and shy / analytical and judgmental

- rising in capricorn: loyal and ambitious / unfulfillment and drudgerous

armin is the sweetest person to exist ever

- treats you the way he wants to be treated and more than you ever thought you could ever deserve.

- would rather die first than to hurt your feelings

- and when he does it’s never on purpose and it’s always sorry for it and will try to make up anyway he can

- always goes out of his way to make things easier for you

- his love languages are acts of service, physical touch, and quality time

- if your space is kinda messy he’ll do his best to reorganize and clean up for you

- needs to live in your skin. hugs often. holds your hand any chance he can. plays with your hair. lays in your lap. touchy touchy touchy

- date nights ever weekend, or every other weekend. tries to go somewhere nice and do something grand once in a while.

- he’s too embarrassed for full fledged PDA, but chaste kissing and holding hands is okay.

neurodivergent

- might be on the spectrum. you kinda gotta squint.

- has some kind of sleep disorder like insomnia or parasomnia.

- prone to nightmares

- also has depression, ptsd, anxiety

- does not take medication, like an antidepressant, even though he should

- he tries not to lay around too much when he’s around you or staying at your place, but when he’s alone in his own home he can stay in bed for literal days.

- his grandfather is getting older and his parents died when he was young so he has looming anxiety of death and losing people he loves.

- also has separation anxiety. he’s like one of those howling cats when their owner leaves for work.

- is kind of a picky eater. goes out and orders either alfredo pasta or chicken tenders.

- will stay up rlly rlly late until he can’t stand it

- drools in his sleep so if he’s laying on you, there’s a little wet spot lmao gross

anxious attachment style

- you remind him every single day that you love him, that he’s the only one for you, and that you’re happy in your relationship

- but he just can’t help not feeling adequate and good enough so sometimes his insecurities bleed out into other things.

- it gives him peace of mind that your location is on and he can see where you are.

- he goes through your following almost every day to see if anything has changed.

- will sometimes ask “do you know this guy?” when he sees you’ve gotten a new follower or if someone leaves a comment on one of your pics.

- super cyber stalker. if somebody leaves a nasty comment he can find their full name, place of employment, where they went to school, and their grandma’s facebook.

- he definitely screenshots the ugly stuff and sends it to their family. and says “this is how your offspring talks to people online” and that he “doesn’t appreciate you being treated this way.”

- other ppl would think he’s doing too much and sometimes it is but you know and understand him better than most people ever would.

- goes through your stuff when you’re not there

- he’s not looking for anything in particular, he just likes looking through things and seeing what you have

- smells everything. lotions and body washes. perfumes and hair products. reads the ingredients in your skin care. doesn’t know what any of it does.

- wears your house robe when you’re not there either. walks through the halls like a student at hogwarts.

cares for your animals when you’re gone or need help

- befriends whatever pet you have.

- your aloof and distant cat adores him and crawls in his lap.

- your dog follows him in every room and waits for him outside the bathroom. he cannot escape.

- if the litter box needs to be cleaned, he’ll do it.

- he’ll walk your dog and pick up your yard. might try to teach your dog a few new things.

- he’ll feed whatever you got in your cages or tank and refills all bowls and water

- gives them extra treats and snacks just because

passionate and sensual

- sex isn’t just sex for him. it’s like another way to connect emotionally with one another and be completely vulnerable and experiment with things.

- always has his mind in the gutter and is always down to jump your bones. or have you jump his bones.

- is a switch, equally enjoys being dominant and submissive.

- when he’s being dominant he wants to consume every piece of you. he kisses you everywhere, touches you everywhere, reminds you that you’re his and no one else’s.

- whispers to you about how good you feel around him. how tight you are. he loves the way you sound. he wants to stuff you full of his cock. likes to bend you over and watch how wet you get and watches his cum dripping out of you.

- wants to breed you so bad but alas. birth control.

- tries to convince you to get off of it. that you don’t need it and whatever happens, happens, and that he can support you.

- when he’s submissive, he whines and mews. he’s begging for more, harder, faster, uses his manners and says please and thank you like a good boy <33

- he turns you down most of the time when you wanna suck his dick, but he can never get enough of eating you out.

- his favorite positions are prone bone, doggy, missionary ofc, and when you ride him

- once he’s in sub-space there’s no coming out of it until he cums.

- his bookmarks on twitter is literally all porn, and he likes some weird stuff.

2023. do not copy or repost any work by arlertwitch on any other platform. violators will be prosecuted.

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 3/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

PART 1. PART 2.

You're a reluctant psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Weren't you supposed to be afraid?)

Word count: 4581

WARNINGS: Child abuse, attempted infanticide, corruption, stockholm syndrome, drug use (painkillers), blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, general Saw-levels of horror & violence.

You dream about the bathroom again.

Your mother is there, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hair tied back. It's your childhood home, the bathroom on the second floor just beyond the top of the stairway, painted a garish teal that was popular in the late 70s.

You think you are four years old. Your mother is chattering to you as she fills the tub. She's telling you that she's sorry, but it has to be done- that you're sensitive just like her, she can tell, and that this life will ruin you.

She has to save you from it. You deserve better than this, she says to you, smoothing down your hair with wet hands. Life is too bad, too hard. Too filled with pain and bad people. You're not like them.

The water is cold, and dark. The bathtub seems to expand as you're held underwater- you open your eyes, and they burn. Blurry shapes pass across your vision. The darkness seems to go on forever.

(You were dead for three minutes, the doctors said, before they were able to resuscitate you.)

Somewhere in the haze of the dream, you zoom out to a bird's eye view, and the bathroom starts to decay. You see the top of the toilet crack, the mirror shatter and fall. A chain is attached to the radiator, snaking around your ankle. The light flickers. There is a puddle of blood in the centre of the room.

When you wake up, you are drenched in sweat.

You don't text Mark Hoffman about that dream, instead groggily taking a handful of painkillers to ensure a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

It had only been after your near death experience that you'd started getting flashes, the images and emotions that your childhood friends didn't. At the time, the doctors chalked up to trauma. Later, you learned to keep it quiet.

Maybe, somewhere in the world- wherever she was now- your mother had woken up after the same dream. You are just about the same age now as she was then, and when you look in the mirror, you see the same tired eyes.

She was right about one thing, you think, your recent visions coming back to you. Life is full of pain.

As you lay back down, your cat Prawn crawls up beside you and starts purring relentlessly. He shoves his face against yours, like he can tell you're feeling down. He smooshes against you, and despite yourself you chuckle, petting him softly.

The last thing you wonder before you fall asleep is what your mother would think of what you're doing now. She may have been right about life, but she was wrong about you.

You are like them. Maybe worse.

---

---

"What do you mean, you haven't had any visions since yesterday morning?" Mark asks as he drives, gloved hands gripping the wheel so tightly that you're surprised he doesn't leave a permanent indent on it.

"I took some painkillers yesterday. They block out the noise, at least for a bit," you answer, sparing a look over at him, "I wanted to be a normal human being for a while."

He shakes his head in what appears to be annoyance, distaste or disappointment- you can't tell which.

"Quit complaining," He says, without even a hint of sympathy. You wonder if sympathy is an emotion he knows how to feel, "Pills aren't going to make you feel normal."

With your senses dulled, you feel cut-off from the world around you, and by extension, Mark Hoffman. Without the bleed of other people's emotions, thoughts, and memories into your mind, you feel more independent, more a person. It comes at the cost of your intuition, but at least you can tell a bit more clearly where Jigsaw ends and you begin.

Still, somewhere along the way, you stopped flinching every time Mark Hoffman looked at you. It's incredible, what the human mind can normalize. How it can change fear to thrill to anticipation.

"It'll come back, it always does. Pretty soon, if my timing is right," You shoot Mark a look, "Wouldn't want to be useless to you."

He sneaks a glance back at you. "I'm sure I could find a use for you."

For a second, it feels like the energy in the car changes. With that insinuation, there's a tension between you that becomes obvious. The air in the car feels tight.

It feels dangerous. Your cheeks flush, and you don't exactly know how to respond to that, so you drum your fingers on your thigh and look out the window.

"It's been affecting me," you admit, finally, changing the subject. "I've been connected to this web of the worst of humanity. I needed a break."

Mark scoffs. "You're telling me that shutting your eyes and pretending it's not happening is going to make you feel better?"

"A little," you lie, before you sigh and stretch. "Maybe when my intuition comes back, I should just go to a dog park, close my eyes, and pet all the dogs."

"You get any hits on the dogs being mistreated, you can send the owners my way," Mark replies, deadpan.

You actually laugh out loud at that, mostly out of surprise. Mark still looks serious- he really doesn't smile all that often. Was that a joke? Probably not entirely, but either way, you can't help but smile as you shake your head at his audacity.

Your suspicion that Mark is at least somewhat serious is confirmed when he continues.

"We could do a lot of good work like that," Mark adds quietly after a moment, "You pick them. I test them. You sense the threats, I deal with them from the inside. A pretty fucking effective team, if you ask me."

"Is that what you want? Us to murder people together?" You ask, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Yeah," Mark replies simply, seriously. A shiver runs across your skin, and at that single word, your stomach drops. It seems too real a possibility, suddenly. That you could actually do it. That you would actually do it. That you could do it, together, and not get caught.

"Did you forget that I'm here under duress?" You reply uncomfortably. The words sound like a lie even to you as they leave your mouth.

"Really? I don't see a gun to your head." He points out. You shuffle in your seat, and pick at a seam on your jeans. He's right, and the guilt of it hits you square in the chest.

What are you doing here, if it's not because you've been forced to be? The answer just makes you feel more guilty, rising like bile in your throat.

You've enjoyed being needed. He's dangerous, and he's taking you seriously, bringing you along. He needs you, he wants you here.

You've been having fun.

He'd kill you in a second if you threatened him, without an ounce of regret. You still like him. Are you insane? Suicidal?

Fuck. It hurts your head. It takes every image you've ever had of yourself and crumples it into a little paper ball. And sets it on fire. You don't even know who you are anymore.

"How would Jigsaw number one feel about that?" You ask instead, trying to hide the sudden waves of turmoil that crash through you, making you feel sea-sick and confused.

"Pretty soon, it won't matter," Mark's voice is dark, and he looks straight ahead at the road as he drives. Once again, you have no idea where he's taking you, but you've been driven well outside of the city centre. The area is dilapidated, and you pass lawn after lawn filled with detritus and garbage.

It didn't even occur to you to try to remember the route to get here.

"I wasn't sure about it at first either," Mark murmurs after a while, with a cruel twist of the corner of his mouth, "Then I realized. They have a real chance to get out alive. Maybe they learn their lesson. Maybe they don't. Well, then, we can just put them back into the games until they figure it out, or they die. It's housekeeping."

"That's fucked up. These are people you're talking about. With their own lives and hopes and dreams," Is it him you're trying to convince, or yourself? Maybe you're pushing your luck, arguing with him as much as you are. It's weightless, regardless. Here you are, tagging along, no gun in sight.

"Nah. You said it yourself- the worst of humanity. Fuck 'em." Mark pulls into a long driveway of an old abandoned school building, driving his car around the back and parking in the grass, out of sight from the road. You can see broken windows, glass scattered around the entrances, and brick walls splashed with colourful graffiti.

He turns off the engine of his car, and then turns fully to you.

"Come on. You wanna find out what you really think?"

--

Mark has a key to the back door, and the rusted lock opens with an imposing click. Even with the key, it feels like you shouldn't be here. A sense of foreboding edges your awareness, and you can tell the medication is starting to wear off by how deeply you're unsettled in this atmosphere. You seem to be entering through an administration sector of small back offices.

The building smells of mildew and grease, of rust and water damage. As he enters the hallway, Hoffman flips a series of switches just to the left of the entry, which light the narrow back hallways in an uncanny florescence. If not for the light, you would have thought this place was abandoned.

Something bad has happened here, or is happening here.

"Follow me," he murmurs, and with confident strides, he leads you through the administration section and out into the main hallway of the school. You trail behind him quietly, wondering if you would be able to navigate your way out of this building again if you were left here.

He takes you up an old metal stairway, and then into a large room which you can tell used to be a library. Compared to the other parts of the building you've seen, this room is much better kept, clear of rubble and debris. Someone's taken the time to clear it out, at least mostly. Old bookshelves stand empty, and a series of round tables in the room now hold various pieces of equipment.

It's been turned into a workshop, you realize.

Blueprints are spread across the tables, along with a number of cassette tapes and what appears to be recording equipment. A large black television is set up on a TV cart near the front of the room, with wires connecting to a receiver of some kind.

Resting on one of the tables, contrasting so severely with the rest of the equipment on it, there's an old, faded teddy bear.

"See that?" Mark says, pointing to the toy. "I wanna know what kind of a read you get on it."

"Why do I feel like this isn't going to be fun?" You murmur anxiously, but you do as he instructs, approaching the table and picking up the bear. Turning it over in your hands, you close your eyes, and allow the feelings to creep up onto you.

You were right. Something bad happened here.

There was a little boy, no older than six, you think, who had held onto the bear so tightly. You feel his confusion, more than anything else at first. What had he done wrong? Why was his teacher so angry?

Why did it hurt so much?

Pain flashes through you, bright and sharp, from your elbow to your shoulder. You cringe, still holding the bear, trying to piece together what had happened to the boy. You can feel his fear, pure and unrestrained, making you shake.

"Got it?" Mark asks, and you realize he's come up to stand right behind you. He leans over you, his chest nearly touching your back, and speaks low, directly into your ear. It makes you shiver for a different reason. "Now, open your eyes. Watch."

Holding up a remote beside you, you open your eyes to watch as he clicks on the television with it. It crackles to life, and it takes you a second before you register what you're looking at, through the static of what appears to be a live feed.

A man that you would guess is in his mid-60's is restrained to a chair in an abandoned classroom, each of his arms fastened into metal contraptions. Something large is attached to the back of the chair, almost looking like an industrial turtle shell.

"Holy shit," you breathe, your eyes going wide. You drop the teddy bear in shock at what you're seeing, as the man begins to yell for help and writhe in the chair, trying to free his arms

"No, hold onto it," Mark says into your ear, reaching around you. Placing his hands on top of yours, he guides your touch back to the bear, his chest now fully flush against your back.

As you touch the toy again, the impressions come back, stronger this time. Not just the boy, but others as well. Left alone, trapped somewhere, difficult to breathe- suffocating in darkness. Where is my mom, I want my mom-

Anger begins to churn inside of you, so thick and strong it sickens you. You grit your teeth as you stare at the screen.

"Hello, Martin," A distorted voice says. Jigsaw. You can't see the TV from the camera's vantage point, but you can see the person in the chair whip his head toward the sound. "I want to play a game."

The man on the screen whimpers. "No, no, no," he moans.

"You worked at this school for almost three decades before they finally fired you. There were never any charges laid. But there were rumours for years about how you took out your rage on those who couldn't fight back."

You can feel the tears starting to well in your eyes as you stare up at the screen, transfixed in horror. The kids weep and scream in your mind like ghosts, begging to tell you how they suffered.

"You called it your isolation room. A closet hideaway, barely larger than a cardboard box. How many children did you force to stay there, curled up and injured for hours, for the sake of discipline?"

"It was a mistake!" The man yells out, voice breaking, "Please, I'm sorry, I was doing my best-"

"You have two minutes to press down on the peddles under your feet. Doing so will tear away the top layer of skin from your hands, degloving them. Keep your feet pressed down until the process is finished. Once your hands have been degloved, you will be able to pull them from the machine and press the buttons releasing you from the chair."

The man wails in misery. Mark Hoffman rests his chin on your shoulder, and you can feel his eyes watching the footage with you, so intently. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his large, rough hands over yours. The terror and anguish of the children, the shrieking of the man in the trap. It makes you dizzy.

"If you fail to do so before the time runs out, spikes will emerge from the contraption on your back, impaling you. Now we will see how disciplined you are."

The man gasps, and then, as the timer begins to tick down, begins to scream in earnest. You watch as he presses his foot down on the pedal, feeling the reverberation of his panic bounce back onto you.

"I can't do this," you say, squeezing your eyes shut, your nails digging into the fabric of the toy. Your head pounds with the echoes of the children crying, with their shame and embarrassment and panic, and with the howling screams of the man on the screen. It all layers, in a cacophonous symphony of violence and horror that drowns out all other thought.

"It's too much, it's so loud. I can't think, I- I need to shut it out." With one hand letting go of the toy, you dig into your jacket pocket, fishing for your prescription bottle.

"No, no," Mark snaps. He grabs your wrist, tight, and snatches the bottle of painkillers. "No more fucking pills. Watch."

"It's too much," you whisper, wincing. Your mind screams, unable to make sense of all of the information it's taking in. You need to think about this, but all you can do is feel, overstimulated and shaking-

"Detective. I don't think you've introduced me to your friend."

The dry voice cuts through everything else. You realize the screaming has stopped. When you open your eyes again, you see someone has paused the feed on the television.

It isn't live.

Mark freezes, his body immediately going stiff behind you. Although you've never heard this voice before, you recognize it all the same. You drop the teddy bear, as Mark removes his hand from your wrist and steps back away from you. The removal of the warmth of his body leaves yours feeling colder than before.

"Uh oh. You're in trouble," A second voice chimes in, sing-song and clearly elated that you've been caught here, together.

You're hoping Mark will say something on your behalf, but he doesn't. Your head pounds, and your skin feels almost too-sensitive, but if your intuition has ever told you anything, it's that this is not the time to fall apart.

So you turn, looking at the source voices, and muster up all of the courage you can. You are proud that your voice wavers only a little.

"Um. Hello. Jigsaw, and... Amanda Young, I assume." You cast a furtive glance at Mark, who finally seems to have recovered and composed himself, standing up straighter.

John Kramer sits in a wheelchair, wearing a long black and red robe that trails on the ground. Amanda stands behind him with her hands on the handles of the wheelchair, leaning her weight on it

Nothing about John Kramer suggests that he is weak or feeble to you, despite his thin frame and poor health. Instead, you sense a chessmaster, and a conqueror sits before you, a King in a throne. You get the image of a strategist who has been leading his troops through a war, claiming victory after victory through careful battlefield positioning.

"I can explain," Mark says slowly, keeping his voice even and calm.

"Oh, I'm listening," Kramer replies, tilting his head slightly and watching you carefully. His tone is curious and measured, and you sense that he's already re-arranging his plans in his mind, re-evaluating them and trying to determine how you're going to affect things. If he's angry with Hoffman, you can't tell.

"I wanted to test them myself, before I told you, in case it ended up being a waste of time," Hoffman says, shooting a glance at you, "I've never met someone so good at reading people. Except maybe you."

"You've got to be kidding," Amanda says, nearly laughing, "So you took them here, and showed them the footage from our last game? I knew you were an idiot, but this is really next level."

"We already abandoned this place as a workshop," Mark gestures to the TV, sounding irritated, "I sure as hell wasn't going to leave any evidence lying around after I took them home. Place would have been cleared out by tomorrow morning."

"And if they, oh, you know- reported you? Told someone?" Amanda asks. Mark looks like he's about to argue back at her, but John holds up a hand.

"I know you're smart enough not to take unnecessary risks, especially with your identity. But you should have brought this to my attention immediately," John says to Mark. Hoffman actually grimaces, like a kid being scolded.

John turns his attention to you, in cold and calculating interest, "What do you have to say?"

Cherish your life, the wind whispers in your ear. Right now, your life felt pretty fucking cherished, in the it-is-literally-on-the-line sense.

"I guessed that Detective Hoffman was one of your accomplices a few weeks ago," You answer, hoping that you're not going to talk yourself into a corner, "Not that I had any proof, but...he's been keeping a close eye on me, since then."

"And why haven't you gone to the police?" John asks, critical. The big question. Something urges you to just lay all of your cards out on the table.

"I don't... know, to be honest. Sometimes, things just come to me. Pieces of information, like drops of rain before a storm," John looks at you in interest, waiting silently, so you continue. "I feel like... the first one was personal, right? Like tiger stripes across the face, rough, rudimentary, righteous. He took something from you. Like the sun going out," You look at Mark. "The two of you are similar, like that."

Amanda and John stare at you, and you're worried you've said too much. Maybe you shouldn't have called his engineering rudimentary. You clear your throat, and shuffle your weight from one foot to the other.

"Interesting," Jigsaw remains expressionless, tone dispassionate. He looks at Mark's hand, still clenched around your prescription bottle, "...And the pills?"

You swallow. "Dampeners," you answer simply. He nods, like he understands, somehow. Amanda snaps her attention from you, to Mark, to John, like she can't believe what's happening. She makes a noise of clear protest.

"Come here, for a moment," Jigsaw says. You very much do not want to do that, but with Amanda glowering at you, you don't feel like you have much of a choice.

You walk over until you stand in front of him, heart hammering in your chest. With a hand, he beckons you to lean down, closer. Amanda looks just about ready to leap over his chair and strangle you.

As you lean in closer, you feel a prick on your neck. You look down to see John holding a needle, sticking it into your skin. He pushes an unknown liquid into your body.

"Oh," you say simply. Should have seen that coming.

The room goes dark.

---

When you wake up, you have gone from being in a bad situation to a much, much worse situation.

Somehow, you can sense that you were unconscious for a very long time. Now, though, you are wide awake, with adrenaline beginning to flood your body. Good- you're going to need it.

The first thing you register is that your eyes are very dry. The reason for this is immediately clear: your eyelids are being held open by a metal optician's speculum. You glance around your dark surroundings frantically in silent terror, unable to move your head. Some kind of a warehouse? No- a gymnasium. The school.

You can't move your body, either. You seem to be suspended in the air- how high up, you can't say- with your arms and legs locked into some kind of device. The height makes you nervous enough that you don't try to squirm.

Fuck. Stay calm. This is a Jigsaw game, which means there's a way out of it.

As you look back up above you, you can just make out through the darkness large jug of something positioned directly over your head. You catch the scent of something pungent and acidic.

It is becoming significantly harder to stay calm.

Below you, off to the side of the room, a television crackles to life.

"Hello," Jigsaw's voice says, addressing you by name, "I want to play a game." You can't see him, but you can imagine the puppet. Is the voice John's, Mark's or Amanda's through that modulation? You can't tell.

"You have been given a gift. A unique way of seeing the world. But you turn reject this strength. You silence it with painkillers, living in a wilful ignorance when you could know so much more."

So if it's John, someone has told him more about you. You wiggle your fingers. In each of your hands, there is some kind of device with a switch. Never a good sign.

"In your hands are two switches. By flipping each the switches, a single drop of acid will drop into your eyes, blinding you permanently. If you do not do so within two minutes, the restraints on your arms and legs will release, and you will be dropped in a tub of acid. I assure you, you will not survive."

Whimpering softly, the panic bubbles up in your chest, making it hard for you to catch your breath. It's much more difficult to turn inward and rely on your intuition with your eyes pried open- and maybe that was by design. If you could only shut them for a moment, then maybe your intuition could help you find a different way out of this.

"Will you embrace your gifts permanently by blinding yourself? Or will you die in ignorance? This is your test. Make your choice."

As the timer begins to tick, time seems to slow. You think of your mother's hands, holding you under the water, and the last words she said to you before she attempted to drown you.

Life is full of pain and bad people. She was right about that. You think of the kids from the school, forced to wait alone, curled up in the dark by their teacher. You think of Mark Hoffman, who delighted in the teacher's suffering.

You think of your cat Prawn, curled up by your head, and of the last time you grabbed lunch with Allison.

But she was wrong. Life is worth living, regardless.

You aren't going to fucking die here, alone. Not because of Jigsaw.

You flick the switches in your hands.

True to his word, the last thing you see are two drops of liquid, dripping down from above you into your eyes.

You scream as the acid burns you. You scream and you scream, until your voice breaks and your throat aches. You can smell the horrible scent of the acid burning your eyes, and hear something moving beneath you. A machine powers down, and you're slowly and gently lowered to the ground, no pool of acid waiting to swallow you whole.

When the restraints release your hands and feet, you rip the speculum out of your eyes, moaning in pain as you shut them and clutch at them. You curl into yourself, into a ball on the cold ground, and try not to cry.

And then, as you lie there in the dirt, panting and moaning, your awareness explodes. Your sixth sense replaces your fifth and crystallizes, smoothing out and filling in the gaps.

When you hear feet running to you, you already know whose they are. Detective Mark Hoffman, followed by Allyson Kerry. Detective Rigg isn't far behind.

You don't need to see to know.

"Kerry! Get over here, now!" Mark's voice barks out. You feel him lean in close to you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and holding you to his chest.

"You did it," he murmurs into your ear, only for you to hear, "You fucking did it. I knew you'd win."

You reach out, clinging to him. It still feels comforting. It still feels protective.

Lies upon lies.

---

yes. I accidentally nuked my blog. 🥲 but thank you for the support on this fic series! I would love to hear what you think- comments help me figure out what people are enjoying about the fics and what people want to see more of 💕

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban

NEXT CHAPTER

[isa-ghost]

amfmn missa.. p please.. please mother … feed us

I'M BEING ENABLED PPOVERHEAT

He's an actual grim reaper. That's where he's disappeared to so often in canon, reaper duties. It's a very demanding job, you know.

Doesn't stop him from feeling terrible about being gone so often though. He misses his husband and kids and hates how often he's out of the loop :(

Fr though Phil and the kids make him so so happy after spending countless hours working such a sad job. It's also partially why he sings and makes art. That brand of fun is catharsis for the soul.

He has all his canon weapons but I ALSO gave him a reaper deathscythe. And boy is he gonna use it. Fucking AWOOGA MissaSinfonia when he's angry.

Btw as a reaper he can FEEL souls. He can see their power, their condition, feel the surface level emotions and personality of its owner. This will come in handy later in the fic. ;)

As per the post I made asking for Missa appreciation so I can characterize him properly: He's undyingly loyal, he fights hard and loves even harder, he's protective, silly, and goddamn can he flirt.

All his wet cat behavior is a result of getting too overwhelmed by The Horrors. He's seen A Lot as a reaper. But somehow Quesadilla Island and all its... Everything. Always manage to show him a new brand of What The Fuck he's never even imagined before. Hence all his screaming and weeping when he's caught up on what he's missed. Like how tf else is he supposed to react??

Somewhat attached to that, he and Phil rlly were a match made in Federation Heaven bc they both have issues with self-doubt despite being insanely skilled and sharp-witted. Missa is better abt it than Phil though. His only acts up when he messes up a lot or just. Doesn't have a clue how to handle a situation where it's dire that he does. It's more of an insecurity about being unprepared and failing his loved ones than it is a doubt he has skill. He KNOWS he does, he hates when it's not enough. That's how he differs from Phil, who thinks he has none at all.

Btw when you fuck with the people he's protective over, he gets PISSED. We're getting a LOT of pissed off Missa in AMFMN <3 Ofc there'll be a lot of reaper tears too, his husband is suffering and there's little he can do about it. :( But ohohoho when the sad turns into rage. BARK WOOF. Eventually he decides EK is catching these hands and scythe.

He also shakes hands with his husband on being a self-sacrificing little shit. And. Yeah this is gonna happen later in the fic. (He's not dying dw dw)

You have no idea how excited I am that I basically get to build his dynamics with Fit, Etoiles, and Bagi from scratch. I'm so hyped. People are welcome to reply with this with any crumbs we have of their dynamics in canon but afaik they've rarely interacted outside of very minor moments, so AMFMN will largely be a sandbox for me to establish what I THINK they'd be like. Which in my fic plan so far, is largely taking each character's personality and applying how I think they'd react to a situation, and how that would look when two of them are interacting in that situation. Ex: at one point Etoiles has to comfort Missa bc he's just having a ROUGH time with this saving Phil stuff. But Etoiles is NOT a comfort guy. So he does his Etoiles thing: hearing Missa out while also cracking his usual brand of jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

I also have a plot point planned with him and Bagi when shit is hitting the fan the hardest and OUUGHHH. That self-sacrificing shit am I right.

God I'm being so mean to him specifically in AMFMN though. Ender King is a sack of shit, he knows exactly who to harass most using Phil's body >:/

See in my AMFMN Fitza headcanons, I said they're each other's confidants. Which IS true. However, no one in the fic gets the honor of Phil FINALLY communicating with someone about his issues other than his husband. Missa is the person he caves and confesses things to. Missa gets the HC Deity lore and what's been happening to him lately. This is actually what Chapter 3 is :D

Also I am so sorry but I'm sliding a Missa Romantic Love Confession attempt into the fic and it gets interrupted by The Horrors. But yeah Missa is romantically in love with Phil, he just respects that Phil sees things platonically. He still wants to communicate his feelings though.

[affluent-havoc]

Honestly really like the many different and varying interpretations of Naegami and I am just going to gush about it with some small Naegamigiri/Toenaegiri in there too for good measure! Like, one interpretation I've seen is Byakuya being that angry, lanky, over-protective, boyfriend. Peak guard dog energy. And, Richie Rich over here is ready for violence and has vigorously prepared for potential knife fights. The prick would SO start some shit and get in a knife fight if necessary. Or he'd sue for all the worthless pennies the instigator being mean to his boyfriend is worth. Cus, when in doubt, suing is Byakuya's main. Or both options. Like, knife fight, sues, somthing, something, PROFIT. The emotional kind of profit though since Makoto is now safe from the Karens. Minus HIM of course/hj There's then "Makoto happy doggo boy" and "Byakuya grumpy feline". Like this one too. I just enjoy comparing these two to a cat and a dog getting along and trading smooches on a park bench while contemplating if they should REALLY feed the birds or not and why people do it to begin with before they just cycle through topic after topic together. They don't have to like... actually be a cat and a dog for that though. All about the vibes! If Makoto was a dog though, his tail would be wagging CONSTANTLY. You just can't put him down. Guy just has golden retriever energy. Even though I have never interacted with a golden retriever so.... Yeah. Also, another dynamic that goes into this one is just that grumpy boy and sunshine dynamic. This is nice too. It is them. The homies. Honestly, most things that play up Byakuya's almost feral energy also makes me incredibly happy in life. Just ruffle the Karen cut a bit and BOOM! Full fletched wet cat looking prick! Either that or skrungly energy. There is no in-between. To be honest, it is so funny that he has this energy for me. Like, he's a billionaire loser! Why am I attached?! (i know why but silly joke time :D ) A good one is also ones where Makoto is just getting info dumped by Byakuya. Like, it's just Makoto existing while Byakuya blabbers on about his hyper fixations and special interests which I do have some headcanons on what some of those specifically are because at this point, I've started projecting onto him and there is now no return. He's getting dorkified which honestly doesn't help cus he already looks and sounds like a dweeb in denial that he's a dork. Another one is just, these two knuckleheads getting into hijinks cus Makoto is just a magnet for trouble and Byakuya just can't stop starting shit. Adding Kyoko in the mix for that goody good sprinkle of Naegamigiri/Tonaegiri also gives is slight Scooby Doo hijinks I also appreciate. Insert Benny Hill Theme. It is legit just, Makoto existing and crap happening, Byakuya making more problems, and Kyoko being the one who fixes all the bullshit. Though this version of the trio gets me too. Just: "Makoto gets in trouble, Byakuya causes trouble, and Kyoko also causes trouble sometimes but she knows how to course-correct" I guess chaotic gays just do stuff to my brain. Releases the happy brain juices into my body and soul. Like, just let them do arson! It'd be great! Or just, Byakuya doing arson while Makoto sheds a singular tear.

There's also other stuff like, what makes the Naegami in a non-despair au alter from the Naegami with despair? That kinda stuff. I eat that shit up. All the shit. Too much shit. Chronically. This stuff is just fascinating to me. Cus there's questions to be had such as would they be as close in a non-despair story without some meddling? And the best part is that there's no right or wrong answer in a sense. It's fluid and nice and it's cool. Specifically regarding tropes and stuff for these two regardless of despair or non-despair is that good good slow burn. Like, the two of them slowly hanging out more and getting to know each other and badabing, badaboom, Byakuya's definitely not crushing HARD and he's also SOOOO not having having an identity crisis too while we're at it. Another thing I like are interpretations where the two of them are equals in a sense or instances where it's not just Makoto helping Byakuya out. Basically, where both boys get to help one another. This also doesn't really matter if it's despair or non-despair. I just like these two being a unit together! It can be as small as Byakuya helping Makoto be more assertive and not a total doormat or Makoto teaching Byakuya that he shouldn't put all this stress on himself or just hitting him with the reality that his childhood SUCKED. Or just, hitting him with the fact that he kinda a shitty poo poo head! Not like that though! Makoto would never shake him and say something like that. It'd be more like Byakuya coming to the realization that he treats others bad and he's a hypocrite. I want him to suffer a bit before he gets to be gay with the egg/hj Gosh. I'm probably missing so many differing interpretations I've seen or had, dang it! This may be a bit incoherent for all I know. Though, me try. This is also getting a bit too long so... Tldr; boys do kiss kiss