#I literally just wasted an entire day but it's okay because I was probably just gonna rot in bed today anyways

[ilaiyayaya]

Trust me I'll do the cool PSP stuff tomorrow I promise don't yell at me plz

Too bored and too headache to be productive so instead tier list time!

Tier list number 1 (one) (I): Genshin Impppppspspspspspsps kitty! My opinions on almost every character changes slightly like every hour so while these are ordered within each tier, that order for most of them is super loose I have no consistent opinions.

This is the least accurate tier list I have ever made I already disagree with every placement I fucking love Clorinde. If I don't get Clorinde in 1 month I will never play Genshin Impact ever again and I'll also recreate that image of a krill breaking the chains on it's wrists and declaring to the world that it can finally krill itself.

Tier list number 2 (too) (II): Final Fantasy Tactics Advance 3!

This is the most fucked list I've ever made, ngl I literally forget 1/3rd of the characters in this game exist most of the time, but like of the other 2/3rds at least 1/3rd is epic! I FUCKING LOVE LUOCHA! I FUCKING LOVE HOT GUYS CARRYING AROUND DEAD PEOPLE IN COFFINS!!!! I FUCKING LOVE FIREFLY! I FUCKING LOVE WOMEN IN HOT ROBOT SUITS!!!!! I FUCKING HATE JING YUAN!!!! i don't have a reason i just think he's lame sorry. i'm not actually sorry i think he's stupid. his son is stupider tho imagine not being able to take 1 hit lmoa.

Tier list number I can't count!!!:

I know very little about Yugioh, despite this I have over 300 hours on Master Duel using almost exclusively 2 decks. I should finish reading Zatch Bell.

TIER LIST 4 YAYYY!!!!!!:

I was gonna do all the Xenoblade characters but then I realized I don't wanna get spoiled to all the Xenoblade 3 characters I haven't seen yet because it's been nearly 2 years now since the game released and I still haven't beaten it :c. But if hypothetically I did spoil myself to all of the characters from 3 Juniper and Ino would be at the top, obviously I would never do that because I haven't actually seen either of those characters in game but like hypothetically if I knew they existed they would be at the top. And Morag is the best character from 2. And I like Mechon-Fiora. And Celica and L are cool too but like ngl the characters in X are kinda uninteresting af in general like I love that game but I can't name more than like 5 characters despite replaying the entire game like 5 times.

I FUCKING LOVE FIRE EMBLEM YEAAAAAAAAA TIER LIST 4 YEAAAAAAA there's too many fire emblem characters fuck it im only doing 1 game

Look I know Fates is bad, but I simply do not care. Please don't ask me how many hours I have across all 3 versions I will burst into tears. Fuck axe-wielders I hate axe-users I hate missing every attack I hate gambling. Tbh I probably should've chose Engage instead since I have more recent memory of that one and there's also way less characters but I already finished the Fates list and I will NOT do 2 lists of the same series that would be too much, nobody will ever know that my favorite Engage character is Panette now!

TIER LIST uhhh which number is this 7!!! nevermind too eepy the genshin/star rail ones took too long i'll do more in like 9 months when i get sick again. I was gonna rank fruit next, but fruit will have to wait 9 months. No froot get today.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Person™ but you know who else a Very Not Good Person™? Say it with me: Shen Jiu

Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.

But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.

Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"

Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.

When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.

Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.

Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.

So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.

He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.

You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.

You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.

You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.

When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.

So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?

Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)

[nightwngz]

— 𝓐 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ✮!! eng.

fratboy!wally west x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble, porn with plot. smut. dirty talk, multiple orgasms, oral sex, fingering.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . A friend of mine gave me the idea for this, so I said, 'Okay, this sounds good,' and decided to write it. I hope you like it.

Since you started university, you’ve always been part of the crowd. You never cared about being popular or standing out in class; you just wanted to get by like everyone else. You made an effort to fit in without drawing attention, avoiding conflict and focusing on passing with just enough.

Being part of the university meant interacting with certain people, even those you weren't particularly interested in but had to tolerate. Like the popular guys from a fraternity whose name you couldn’t quite remember, led by Richard Grayson and Wallace West—better known to their friends as Dick and Wally—or those slightly higher on the social ladder than you.

Dick Grayson was friendly, and his appearance clearly explained why he was so popular. He was also sweet and kind, so much so that if one of your friends asked you directly, you'd probably admit to having a crush on him. Wally, on the other hand, was a different story. Although he was funny and somewhat charming, and also popular because he was Dick's best friend, he didn't appeal to you as much. In fact, there were times when he would shamelessly try to flirt with you, but you would just respond with a gesture before completely ignoring him.

Conveniently, no matter how hard you tried to stay away from Wally, he always found a way to cross your path. Like the day you were sitting with Timothy Drake in the cafeteria when Dick Grayson came over to say hello to his brother. Wally seized the opportunity, walked up, grabbed Dick by the shoulders, and wasted no time flirting with you.

— Don't worry, babe. If you don't understand anatomy, I can give you a lesson or two.

You don't know what part of you thought it was a good idea to have Wally help you study. But you didn't realize how bad it was until the books fell off the bed where you were supposed to be studying and his face literally ended up between your legs.

You had never been with someone with such fast skills, so to speak. It was like being with The Flash himself. His tongue moved quickly over your wet pussy, causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure.

His tongue glided over your lips, tracing them from top to bottom, while his greenish gaze was fixed on yours. With one hand he helped you to spread your legs wider and with the other he filled your tight hole completely with two of his fingers. Then, growing restless, he moved to your clit, where he began to give you sweet, teasing licks. His mouth moved so quickly between your clit and your lips that it seemed he was caressing both at the same time.

And when you arched your back, with moans so intense that Wally was sure they could be heard in the hallway, he knew you would climax any moment, for the third time that night, with minimal effort on his part. It hadn’t even taken him more than five minutes.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached your climax, and a wave of pleasure swept through your entire body. As you gasped, you watched as Wally pulled away from between your legs, a mischievous smile on his face. He looked beautiful, his mouth smeared with your fluids, and maybe that's why you didn't ask him to clean up.

— Damn, babe, that was so good. After what comes next, you'll be so dazed that the only name you'll remember from these books will be "Wally”.

You looked at him with wide eyes, confused by what he meant by 'after what comes next.' Hadn’t it ended? You wondered if you could handle more, given that you had already had more than you could bear.

— Oh, what? Did you think that was it? Unfortunately for you, we're not done yet. And I have enough stamina to fuck you for hours.

[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Fucking Fight Club (2)

Summary: Hazel tries to control her powers during the first fight club. But because she's a loser, she fucks up. A lot.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mild violence, mentions of bruises and blood

Word Count: 3866

Note: Okay I know I gave y'all the first chapter yesterday but you guys surprised me with so much likes, I quickly whipped up the next chapter. The ending is kind of bad but lmfao idc. It's extra long cause I probably can't write until next weekend due to fucking midterms. I wish I could drop out and write fanfics all day long. But life is unfair to the gays. - Bia <3

“Okay, before we actually do this, I want Hazel to practice controlling her punches.” 

Josie had dragged PJ and Hazel to a hiking trail in the nearest forest. This wouldn’t have been mandatory if Hazel didn’t have the super-strength to murder a human with a single blow, but since she did, Josie wasn’t about to let the feminist self-defense fight club happen without a bit of rehearsal. 

“Fine, mom.” PJ rolled her eyes. She was used to Josie’s dramatic cautiousness, but this seemed like a waste of time. She turned to Hazel and offered her face. “Hazel, just relax, and punch me.”

Hazel did a double take. “Punch… punch you?”

“Okay, I don’t like that tone. I know how to take a punch. Something people would always say is ‘PJ knows how to take a punch.’ Come on up.”

“PJ, she literally beat up a grown man with metal octopus arms last week. And the week before that, a man made of indestructible sand. You remember that? On the news? You might know how to take a punch, but you don’t know how to take her punch.”

“That’s why we’re practicing!”  

“I meant like practice on a tree or something.” Josie waved towards the nearest tree, standing about 25 feet tall. “Hit a tree, Hazel.” 

Hazel shrugged, before pulling back and punching into the middle of the tree. In a split second, the tree quaked under the assault, its massive frame crackling under the exact spot of Hazel’s fist. The bark gave away first, exploding outward in a radial pattern. When she retracted her hand, there was a massive dent on the thick body of the tree, jagged fault lines extending from the center of the impact. 

PJ’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. That could have been my face.” 

Josie shook her head. “Okay, so, obviously, you have to calm down. By a lot. Try the same thing, but like, weaken it?” 

Hazel nodded. She then gently tapped the tree with her fist. 

Josie shook her head again. “That was clearly too weak.” 

Hazel sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, guys. I’m so used to punching psychopathic criminals who want to kill me, so I’m always using at least 90% of my strength.” 

“Which is why I brought this.” Josie pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. It turned out to be your face printed on an A4 sheet with a speech bubble that read, ‘punch me!’ “Now, hear me out—”

“-Actually, this is brilliant,” PJ said, taking the paper from Josie’s hands. She taped it to the tree and presented it to Hazel. “Imagine the tree is (Y/N). She’s standing in front of you. She’s sexy, she's wearing a bikini, she’s ready to learn, and she’s asking you to punch her. What do you do?” 

Hazel stared at the tree with your face on it. In spite of this entire scenario being outrageously stupid, Hazel’s eyes fixated on the piece of paper, trying to immerse herself in your 2D face. It seemed to be a copy from last year’s yearbook, one that she had spent many hours staring at. She felt weirdly guilty as she wrinkled her eyebrows.

“I don’t really want to punch her.”

“Well, you have to! This is for feminism!” PJ groaned when she saw the hesitancy in Hazel’s face. “Hazel, women like strong, protective people. Why do you think there’s a hulk shrine in the girl’s second floor bathroom? You punch (Y/N) straight in the face, and she’ll immediately fall in love with you.” 

“Well–”

“-She will, Josie.” 

Hazel nodded. It was worth a try. If she wanted to wrestle with you in this club, she had to try. With a measured breath, Hazel extended her arm, fingers curling into a tight fist. She delivered a punch, focusing on her strength rather than causing harm. The moment of impact was firm but gentle, almost considerate towards the tree’s bark. It was as if the tree had barely registered the encounter, although its leaves were left shaking. She turned to her friends. 

“Perfect,” PJ whispered, her eyes glistening in awe. “Let’s go beat some bitches up.”

“Not how I’d word it,” Josie muttered. 

That afternoon, you were taking a hike in the same forest with Isabel and Brittany. It was quite calming, walking and talking with your friends in the middle of a beautiful forest. Birds were chirping, winds were breezing– And you guys were completely alone, since nobody really came here, and if they did, it was usually after sunset to do drugs and film porn. 

The three of you reached the midpoint of the trail to take a small break, when Brittany pointed at a nearby tree. 

“Hey, isn’t that…” 

You followed her finger to a tall tree that seemed to be beaten up by someone, with its bark splintered and smashed by a form of impact. And in the middle of its trunk, was a photo of you, with a speech bubble that read ‘punch me!’. 

Your heart dropped. 

“Oh my god, (Y/N), somebody wants to kill you,” Isabel gasped. She walked up to the tree and ripped the paper off. “Isn’t this from our yearbook?” 

You reached out to take the paper from Isabel’s hand and inspected it closely. It was indeed a page from the previous year’s yearbook, with your smiling face captured in a freeze-frame moment of your junior days. The speech bubble, however, had been added later, which meant that someone had deliberately printed your face, edited it, and pinned it to a tree to violently punch it out. 

You felt a chill down your body. Who could have done this? You knew it was hard to be friends with everyone from school– but who would despise you enough to do this vicious and also slightly weird property damage to nature? 

“We should report it or something, like to a park ranger,” Brittany offered, sensing your panic.  

“No, They’re just going to tell us not to come back here wearing shorts,” You sighed. There were no cameras on the trail or anything, and the park rangers were men who were probably going to comment on your appearance instead of the actual problem at hand. “I have to do something about this by myself.” 

You needed protection. No, you needed to learn how to protect yourself. You needed teachers who could help you protect yourself from evil highschool men. 

You needed Hazel Callahan. 

You turned to your friends with a determined face, masking your fear before saying;

“Do you guys want to join a self-defense club with me?”

 Isabel and Brittany paused, exchanged glances, then nodded. 

“What the fuck. These girls are ugly.”

It was the first club meeting for the feminist self-defense fight club, and there were exactly 8 girls waiting in the gym. Absolutely no sign of you. Hazel laid on the gym mats, trying not to show her disappointment. She reached for her phone, staring at your number in her contacts. She never got to texting you because she was panicking over what to say one night, and was busy fighting off muggings and carjackings every other night. 

“Are you stressed? Cause I’m stressed,” Josie muttered, as the advisor for the club hopped in, earning a sharp breath from Hazel. 

“Hey, ladies! Let’s get it poppin’ in this motherfucker.”

Hazel blinked. Mr. G was the advisor for this club? 

This was going to be absolutely horrendous. 

“Alright, uhm… hello, everybody,” Josie tried, looking around the gym filled with girls jumping on trampolines, hula-hooping, scooting, and balance-balling. “Okay, excuse me, sorry, I feel- sorry–” 

“-EVEVRYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” PJ hit the floor with a broom, each collision echoing through the space with a ‘BANG’. 

“This isn’t a little hangout, okay? Oh it’s not a sleepover or playtime. There are serious rules that we need to establish, okay? 

“First? Listen to Hazel.” 

Hazel lifted her hand in a subtle gesture. 

“Second? Be on time. Except for you,” PJ pointed to Mr. G. “You come whenever you want. What time is it?”

“3:30–-” 

“-3:30! Club starts at 3:15. Not 3:16, not 3:17. But the door closes at 3:15. No exceptions!”

Hazel smiled. Other than the fact that they were the ones who were actually late, PJ was doing amazing, putting authority towards the three girls and setting the ambiance. PJ could be a menace sometimes most of the time, but when she wanted to get shit done, she got shit done. Hazel was almost too distracted by PJ’s rant—

“-I don’t care, if you’re like, oh, but I had to go get extra help for math because I need to get a full ride because my mom lives in a trailer and she loves her boyfriend more than me, bleh blah blarh blargh– Shut up. My dad left me and I’m incredibly punctual–”

–That she didn’t even notice you walking into the gym with Isabel and Brittany following closely behind. When she did notice, her heart seemed to pick up speed, her lips curling into a smile even without realizing. Josie recognized the smile– one that Hazel only had when she was talking about her crush— and Josie turned around, motioning to PJ that the holy trinity had entered the gym. 

Your eyes met with Hazel’s, and you waved in acknowledgement. She almost dropped her notebook as she looked around to check if you were waving to someone else, and then she fumblingly waved back. You giggled. Hazel had this face that effortlessly radiated innocent charm. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to her slightly nerdy demeanor. (it’s called being gay)

“Hey, guys. Come on in,” PJ rasped. “Uh… we’re just getting started here.” 

You walked to Hazel and stood beside her. “Sorry we’re late,” you apologized. 

The three girls shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it—”

“-Uhm, the rules were for next week, but this week is good–”

“-Yeah, no worries, take it easy.” 

Annie seemed confused. “Okay, I just want to make sure– This is a self-defense class, right? Where we can learn to protect ourselves against football players.”

“And the criminals that Spider-Woman has been fighting? Cause, uhm, crime rate has been going up so criminals are gonna pork us. They’re gonna pork us.”

“I thought we were fighting each other for money. There’s a cash prize, right?” 

“I thought this was to be a part of like a local, underprivileged female community.” 

“My identity is completely attached to hers so I just go wherever she goes.”

“I thought I could learn how to protect myself. Cause I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to kill me,” You added. 

“What?” Hazel turned, her eyes filled with worry. 

“Everyone’s here for a good reason!” Josie laughed. “So, you know, why are we nitpicking reasons?” 

“Yeah! So, let’s jump in. Hazel, why don’t you take it away?” 

“Uh.” 

PJ and Josie stepped back and began clapping. Everyone else followed along into a scattered and confused applause. Hazel walked to the front, opening up her notebook to the page reading ‘Self-Defense Club.’ 

“Okay. Hi. I’m Hazel. And I’m going to teach you guys how to fight. Maybe throw some punches. Some kicks.”

There was a bit of silence, maybe a single cough. PJ spoke up.

“(Y/N), since you’re closest to Hazel, why don’t you volunteer and step up?” 

You shrugged. “Sure.” 

You weren’t completely sure what was going on or how exactly Hazel was going to teach self-defense, but you dropped your backpack to the floor and walked towards Hazel, who looked incredibly afraid of what was going to happen next. She looked over your shoulders to PJ and Josie. 

PJ mouthed the words, ‘Punch her. She’s the tree. Punch her.’

Hazel sent signals through her eyes meaning, ‘I can’t– I’m not gonna punch her.’ 

PJ continued to mouth the words, ‘Punch her. Hulk shrine. Imagine her wearing a bikini.’ 

Hazel’s face contorted with disbelief, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and her mouth slightly agape. Was she actually going to punch the girl that she’d been crushing on for years? Was this really the way to do it? She tried to ignore PJ who was now mouthing ‘punch your virginity away’ and instead curled her hands into fists, imagining the tree, the print-out of your face saying ‘punch me!’, you wearing a bikini, your smile, your wave, your eyes, your body—

-While you stood beside her, wondering why Hazel looked like she was about to shit herself. You began to open your mouth to ask if she was okay. 

“Hazel—”

—And she flung her fist to your face. 

You didn’t even register what had happened until a sharp burst of pain radiated from your nose, and you found yourself laying on the floor of the gym. You heard gasps and shouts and something about Mr. G trying to shut the club down (“Hey hey hey hey hey– I don’t know about this shit-”) as you slowly sat up, tasting liquid metal. The pain began to spread to the rest of your face as your eyes blurred up, leaving you momentarily stunned and struggling to regain your composure. 

“Fuck, (Y/N)- I’m so sorry-” a horrified voice rang in front of you, and you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The hand seemed to be shaking, and you wiped your hazy eyes to see Hazel kneeling beside you, her expression embedded with guilt. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” 

“You didn’t even warn her!” Annie screamed. 

PJ shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t get warnings in juvie. Juvie was way crazier. One time, this girl’s punching me in the rain. Fall to my knees. It’s muddy. I get up– I’m blind. Punch her right in the middle of her face. Broke her fucking nose.” 

“Pretty sure Hazel broke (Y/N)’s nose too,” Annie grumbled. 

Isabel hurriedly handed you a couple of paper towels as Mr. G pushed the crowd to assess the situation. 

“Let me see her,” Mr. G ordered, gasping when he saw the amount of blood coming from your nose. “Oh, shit, man, we gotta shut this down.” 

“No, No—” 

“-Shut this shit down. Shut it down—” 

“-No, Don’t blow the whistle– Don’t blow the whistle!” Josie yelled. Everyone went silent, turning their attention from you to Josie. “I know that, you know– this is a little messy and bloody right now— Hazel, can you take (Y/N) to the nurse’s office–  but like, the only way that we can learn how to defend ourselves is by teaching each other.” 

Josie continued on with her little speech as Isabel and Brittany offered to take you to the nurse. But Hazel denied their help, rambling something about how this was all her fault. She picked you up fairly easily to your surprise, bridal style, and carried you out of the gym. You clutched onto her and rested your aching face into her stomach, feeling embarrassed.

When you arrived at the office, the nurse had gone home already, leaving Hazel to place you on the examination bed and find the medical kit. She seemed really anxious as you touched your face, your hand coming back dripping in red. 

“God, juvie really taught you how to punch, huh,” You joked, battling your agony with humor. Hazel didn’t laugh. Instead she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the sink water, indulging the silence. You tried again. “Hazel.” 

It was ignored once again as Hazel kneeled in front of you and started cleaning your face, her thumb gently holding your chin. She was very obviously avoiding your gaze with the best of her ability. 

“Hazel, look at me.”

Hazel finally looked up to your eyes. She looked like a child knowing that she was about to be reprimanded or put on time out— and you almost felt sorry for Hazel, even though you were the one bleeding out. She seemed to grimace as you opened your mouth, getting ready to be shouted at. But instead, you asked;

“Why didn’t you message me?”

Hazel paused. 

“I gave you my number. You didn’t message me,” You said again, completely serious. “You don’t like me?” 

“No, I like you!” Hazel exclaimed. Her cheeks turned into a shade of pink as she tried to reword the sentence. “I mean, I don’t don’t like you, I… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to come to the club, and I’m sure you don’t want to anymore-”

“-No, I want to.” You interrupted. “I mean, my face hurts like a bitch, but… it was a solid punch. And I really do need to learn how to defend myself like that. I think someone’s trying to kill me, so I want to be ready.”

Hazel cocked her head. “Is someone attacking you? Do you need help?” 

You shook your head. “Not exactly, but I did see my face taped onto a tree, and someone had hit it really, really hard. Like, incredibly hard. Maybe with a rock, or something? I don’t know. I think it might be a death threat.”

Color seemed to drain out of Hazel’s face. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you–” You explained, mistaking Hazel’s pale skin as fear. “Listen, I’m not angry at you. Well, okay, I am a little, I think you could have warned me about the punch, at least, but… I know that you’re still recovering from your past and you’re probably on edge all the time.” 

Hazel nodded along, as it was partially true– she was on edge, but mainly because you were staring down at her with blood on your face and you still managed to look hot as fuck. She choked on her words before saying, “Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m really sorry.” 

You smiled. “This is the whole point of the club though, right? You punch me, I punch you… and we become stronger together– ow.” 

You winced when the cloth touched a particular spot on your nose bridge, being reminded of your injury. 

“Shit, sorry, here—” Hazel instantly dropped the cloth. She carefully cupped your face, examining your wound with sincere worry. She was used to seeing wounds on herself, but seeing them on a person that she liked— seeing them on you, made her particularly upset. 

You were surprised to see Hazel being so serious. Every time you tried to talk to her, she was either nervous or punching you. To see her so focused on your face made you feel a bit self-conscious, leading you to comment on her skills to break the silence.

“You seem to have a lot of experiences patching someone up. Do you do this often?” 

She chuckled, “You have no idea.” 

You assumed she was talking about juvie, and you recalled seeing the bruises on her face the last time you talked to her. Was Hazel still having problems with crime even after prison? You stared at her, your heart throbbing with sympathy for Hazel. What struggles had she faced in her past for her to learn to punch so strongly, to patch up bruises, and to always be nervous around others? 

Hazel pulled away from you, finishing up the basic patch-up. She started putting the medical kit away as you caught sight at the mirror across from you.

“Great. I look awful.” You sighed, lingering on your reflection.

“No, you don’t.”

Hazel tore her eyes away from the kit and responded, as if you had said something completely out of reality. You laughed and shook your head, looking at the floor.

“No, my face is a complete mess–” 

“-You look pretty.” 

You tore your eyes off from the floor to Hazel. She was staring at you with a soft look in her eyes, one that you felt yourself getting lost in. She had such… honesty within them, as if she fully believed your beauty underneath the red and blue color. 

“You always do.”

And for a moment you wondered how you had never truly seen Hazel before— when the soft glow from the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm light over the two of you. Hazel’s brown hair, cascading into a messy mullet, framed her face which seemed to be burning up each second that passed. 

“...you too,” You muttered, a shy smile replacing your dumbstruck expression. “I hope you know that.”

Then it was her turn to gawk, at you and your hands timidly placed on your legs which dangled from the examination bed. She was reminded of her crush that had been sitting in her heart for years. She had just spent 5 minutes in a room alone with you— and for a second, she was almost glad that she punched you. 

And all of a sudden, Hazel seemed to recognize the lack of space between the two of you. Had you been this close to her this entire time? Your face was just inches apart from hers, and time seemed to stretch as you two gazed at each other, hearts thumping in unison. It was as if the wall Hazel had managed to build around her feelings towards you crumbled within this moment. Hazel’s lips parted, just a fraction, as if inviting the inevitable to say—

“-The club isn’t being shut down!” 

The office door swung open with a bang. 

Hazel immediately leaped back from you, as you whipped your face towards PJ and Josie who stopped in their celebratory tracks, analyzing the odd tension from the room.

“Oh, sorry, we thought–” Josie gaped, rubbing the back of her head in awkwardness. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?” 

“I’m doing okay, actually. I should go. But I’ll see you later, bye.” You hopped down from the bed and started walking out of the room, talking a bit too fast for anyone’s comfort. You almost fell over while you ran down the hallway, unable to accept what had just unfolded. What was that? You almost— you almost kissed a girl. You almost kissed Hazel Callahan.

In the meantime, Hazel was also mortified at the fact PJ and Josie had interfered right then and there. She hid her face with her hands which her friends mistook for anger.

Josie tried to calm her down, “Okay, I know that today was kind of a disaster and you made (Y/N) bleed, but after you left we managed to grow the spirit. Everyone’s into beating each other up now. It’s kind of working.”

“And, I honestly don’t know what just went on right now but… (Y/N) just said she’ll ‘see you later’. Which means it kind of worked for you too,” PJ added. “And it doesn’t seem like you broke her nose, which meant that you can actually control your power!”

“Are you still up for this, Hazel?” 

Hazel peeked out from hands, her face still red, her heart still sprinting, her mind still thinking about your lips— and how you said you would see her later. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded and said,

“Let’s fucking do this.”

Previous Chapter: The Origin

Next Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4

[cat3ch1sm]

🐇~ HI EVERYONE! welcome back to my account :) im excited for today’s post because this is my first across the spiderverse writing! i hope you guys like it lol i couldn’t stop thinking about it (spiderman is my entire life now)

🐇𓆩♡𓆪☁️ fem!reader, sfw

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮- 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 <𝟑

~ miles g really does not like admitting he likes someone/ or even the idea of liking anyone at all. he obviously has things that are higher priority and he thinks it’s really a waste of time for the most part.

~ but then you come along,and he’s immediately enamored. like, imagine you’re just casually walking by miles while he’s sitting on his phone or whatever, and you accidentally bump into his leg. he looks up immediately to tell you to watch it, but instead is met with the most beautiful face he has literally ever seen. he legit double takes and completely forgets to even talk. you look down abruptly and are like “oh, i’m so sorry, i wasn’t paying attention!” you wait for him to say “it’s okay” or something like that, but when you look at him his expression is just blank. you kinda wave awkwardly and leave after that, and he watches you leave until you’re out of sight.

~ after you’re gone, he just sits there for a second before frowning and cursing at himself for being so caught up.

~…. “shit.”

~ miles g isn’t really the type to watch from afar, at least not for long. but for a short time, he does just watch you, admiring the way you do every little thing- smiling at your phone, the way you walk, how nice your voice sounds- things like that. it’s not long before he decides to make his move.

~the next time he sees you, he makes his move, cornering you when you’re alone and putting one arm beside your head so you can’t leave. needless to say, you’re definitely caught off guard when you turn around and are met with miles’ face- expression nonchalant and that unreadable glint in his eyes as usual.

~ yeah, don’t be fooled. miles is nervous as all hell and praying to every god imaginable that you don’t notice him shaking. but he isn’t the type to let fear or apprehension get in the way of something he wants.

~ “hey, you’re that guy i ran into the other day… um… hi!”

~ your smile almost makes him keel over. Jesus Christ

~ “hey, ma- glad you remember me. was wondering if you was tryna let me take you out sometime? i thought you were pretty.”

~ (yes, the whole atsv fandom has collectively agreed that prowler miles would call you “ma.” argue with the wall)

~ miles is crazy nervous for your response as he watches your expression furrow thoughtfully- but when you smile that smile again and say yes, he feels like a million weights have been lifted off his shoulder. sure, he’s the prowler, but he’s still a 15-year-old boy who probably hasn’t had a lot of experience in the dating arena.

~anyway, that was a fun little scenario- now let’s talk about miles actually going out with you, like how he is during the time where you’re going out but not quite exclusive.

~ the second he gets your socials, he’s all over them. he’s spending an amount of time he isn’t willing to disclose just stating at your pictures and admiring your beauty. he watches your TikToks religiously, liking them all, but literally immediately scrolls past the ones where you’re with any guy. he’s not jealous because he isn’t insecure, but he just does not care to see you with anyone else.

~ whenever you text him, unless he’s busy with prowler stuff, he’ll respond within like ten minutes at most. miles doesn’t want you to think for a second that he’s ignoring you or forgot about you. he has caught himself smiling slightly at his phone while he’s texting you every now and then, which he is so embarrassed about for no reason😭

~ yes, uncle aaron notices.

~ “aye, g, what’s got you cheesin’ at yo phone like that?”

~ “…nothin’, unc.”

~ “you know i can tell when you lyin’, right?”

~ “aw, c’mon-“

~”don’t even bother.”

- and rio notices, too.

~ “ay, miles, why are you on your phone so much lately? you know i don’t like- miles? what’s so funny on your phone?”

~ “nothing, mama.”

~ “nothing’s funny? then why are you smiling at your phone?”

~ “…uh…”

~ “waaaait…” *pause, hands on hips* “miles, are you talking to a girl?”

~ “mami!”

~ “so it is a girl! is it the same girl whose pictures you’ve been looking at lately?!”

~yes, she noticed that too.

~ “…mami!!”

~ “let me see!”

~ the next two minutes are miles and rio madly wrestling for his phone. (spoiler alert, rio wins.)

[yagirljosieohyeah]

Hi! Can I request a demon slayer modern day AU where the hashiras S/O gets them into skincare or makes them do skincare with them?

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I THOUGHT I HIT POST AND ONLY REALIZED I WASN’T GETTING ANY NOTIFICATIONS

Of course no problem for this one I’m just gonna do headcannons I hope that’s all right

GIYŪ TOMIOKA

He would be excited but he wouldn’t make it clear he is

he would be confused about what everything

but your the expert so he just lets you do your thing and he kinda sits there

will close his eyes and relax into your hands

I think he would like the facial rollers the best

KYŌJURŌ RENGOKU

Is a bit unsure at first but he is willing to support whatever you feel like doing

Will talk the entire time about the most random things

has no idea what your doing but goes with it

Would want to try it on you

his favorite thing is lotion cause it makes your skin all soft

TENGEN UZUI

His wives would totally join in and all of you would be trying to convince him to do it

he of course would give in once you all started asking

You would be getting little kisses from Suma the whole time

Hinatsuru xould be so stubborn honestly

Maiko would be pretty quiet during it

freaking Tenzen would be the one to yell that it’s cold when you do anything

his favorite thing is the cucumbers on the eyes because even though it does nothing he likes to eat them at the end

MITSURI KANROJI

She would be so excited

would do yours too

would want to either cuddle and go to bed or put on makeup after and go out

she would have lots of skincare too

Will tell you random stories she makes up while you do it on her

her favorite thing is the headbands and her favorite headband is the pink bunny one

SHINOBU KOCHŌ

I’m sorry did you think you would be the one prompting the skincare…

no it’s her al the way

she’s got all the fancy creams and she knows what they all do

she will tell you not to waste your money on certain things

she would love skincare dates

her favorite thing is sheet masks

MUICHIRŌ TOKITŌ

Definitely not excited (he is)

would sit quietly and let you do your thing

literally glared into your eyes

Will hold your hand even though it makes it more difficult for you

his favorite thing is… soap (he’s boring)

GYŌMEI HIMEJIME

Is so happy to do whatever you want

will smile as you do your thing

gives you a kiss every now and then

Will try different products on you

his favorite thing is gua shaw (I just get those vibes)

OBANAI IGURO

Rolls his eyes when you ask to do skincare

will say no the first 100 times

Grumbles curses under his breath the whole time

Hates anything sticky

will not do sheet masks

however his favorite thing is probably clay masks.

SANEMI SHINZUGAWA

says yes violently

Will curse anytime he thinks it’s too cold

such an asshole the entire time

if you put something to help with his scar he will be happy but won’t say anything

his favorite thing is under eye pads (I RAN OUT OF SKINCARE OKAY)

[pluckyredhead]

Red Hood and the Outlaws #6 (2011)

Hey, remember when I was recapping this series? Well, unfortunately for all of us, I'm gonna do it some more.

I will admit this is a pretty good cover.

This shit, however, makes me so mad. What an absolutely lazy waste of space. This comic is 20 pages long, not including the cover. That means that this two page spread is literally an entire tenth of the story, and it's used to convey...what? That Jason just fought some guys who were trying to smuggle nukes into Miami.

A two-page spread is meant to deliver impact: a crucial moment in the story, a stunning piece of art, an impressive sense of scale (Galactus looming over the Earth, whatever). This does none of that. Most of the page is just a teal gradient; Rocafort didn't even bother to draw an impressive underwater scene. (I kind of don't blame him, because it would have been a waste of his time, since this scene is NOT NARRATIVELY IMPORTANT.)

Also, the page before this is also a splash, and the one after is three panels depicting Jason caught in an explosion, and that's a generous description considering that one of the panels has nothing in it but bubbles. So now we're up to TWENTY percent of the comic, a full FIFTH of the story, and we have conveyed LITERALLY NOTHING except "Jason got caught up in an underwater explosion."

This is lazy writing and lazy art. This is charging the reader for 20 pages of story and delivering maybe seven, content-wise. It's shamelessly ripping off the audience, and they aren't even trying to pretend they aren't doing it. I don't know if Lobdell didn't have enough story in him or if he was trying to give Rocafort more time to drawn stupid little lines all over everything, New 52-style, but it pisses me off.

Anyway, Jason wakes up on an island a few days later (and a narration box on the first page established that this takes place before RHATO #1):

This page has six panels which is a very respectable amount, although I still don't think it's a great use of space. But I guess Rocafort was really busy adding wood texture to all the panel borders for no reason. Anyway the little pile of leaves Kori has graciously dropped over Jason's dick is very funny.

Jason wakes up, tries to demand his pants from Kori at gunpoint, and passes out again. He has a flashback to the world's most hideous Nightwing costume:

Awful. Also, Jason flounces off in a bratty little fit in the next couple panels, but I support him, because if you actually read what Dick's saying, it's meaningless filler.

See, now this is an appropriate use of a two-page spread for impact and scale. Much more effective. Imagine how effective it would have been if every other spread for five issues hadn't tried and failed at this!

Kori offers Jason some clothing, which turns out to be the hideous Nightwing suit, and Jason flashes back to Under the Red Hood: Shitty Version:

Who needs "Because he took me away from you" when we have whatever the fuck this is?

Jason gets all upset. Kori sniffs Dick's costume and says she can't remember his name, but she has fond memories of the guy who used to wear it. There's a flashback of her and Dick and Roy in action together. Okay, so she clearly remembers Dick and Roy at least somewhat, which is probably Lobdell starting to walk back the controversial amnesia bullshit in the first issue.

Jason tells Kori his connection to Dick and asks if she's mad, which...even setting aside Kori's memory issues and general lack of grudge holding in any continuity, why would she be mad that Jason has the same mentor as a guy she remembers fondly? Anyway, she is indeed not mad and they hug it out. If this is supposed to be depicting Jason's smug "I've been with her" in the first issue, it...really doesn't read like they boned.

Jason's narration on the last page further obscures things:

"Friendship and romance are really the same thing. Anyway LET'S TALK ABOUT ROY HARPER." Okay I know that's me reading with ship goggles but it truly is a very funny transition.

So that's how Jason met Kori! She...pulled him out of the water, and they discussed how they both knew Dick. Definitely worth spending a whole issue on that very interesting story!

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

could you write your dating shauna hc please? i love your writing btw ❤️😭

Dating Shauna Shipman Headcanons

YAY A REQUEST FOR MY BBG SHAUNA YIPPEE

Ty anon <3

Implied fem reader, could probs be gender neutral, used she/her pronouns like once

--------------------------------------------------------

Pre-dating/how you got together

The two of you started talking/hanging out because you were paired up for a project

At first you thought she hated you because she was always very quiet around you, like barely speaking to you even when you speak to her

Turns out she just had no idea how to make a conversation with you. That is, until she came over to work on a project and saw that you had a few of her favorite books. All of a sudden, she's very talkative. At least Shauna levels of very talkative

She starts hanging around you more, not really saying anything but if she sees you in the library, she'll come sit down next to you

After this happens for like the fifth time in a week, you ask her if she wants to maybe go get a coffee and study together

Shauna looks so shocked for a moment, and you wonder if you've misread the entire situation

Then she does her embarrassed little smile and is all "that sounds nice"

Two days later you're meeting her at a coffee shop and you have like the time of your life, she's so incredibly smart, but also so funny

You two start hanging out at least once a week, and sometimes you'll sit with her and the Yellowjackets at lunch

This goes on for a few months, both of you obviously having feelings for each other but neither of you saying anything

Until one day you think "fuck it" at the end of one of your study sessions, and kiss her when you leave. Just like a quick kiss on the cheek and you're out the door

She calls Jackie that night completely losing her mind, asking what to do

Jackie's all "Shauna she likes you. You idiot. Call her." But Shauna can't bring herself to call you

You're wondering if you fucked up the friendship until she's completely normal the next day at school

Nothing changes for like a week until she gets absolutely wasted at a party that you're both at

She comes to find you and she's so drunk that you're like "okay we're leaving." And you drive her back to her house

When you get there, she asks you to stay the night with her, and who are you to say no when she's this drunk?

You stay the night and she confesses she just didn't know what to do when you kissed her, and she didn't know if it was just friendly/that was how you showed affection

But she "has feelings for you or whatever and she knows they're probably stupid"

You're giggling and she's all pouty until you tell her that "obviously you have a crush on her you idiot"

OKAY now to when y'all are actually together!!

She leaves little notes for you in your bags/locker/ your room. They're mostly things she doesn't want to say out loud or reminders of things she wants to talk about

Loves to trade books with you and annotate them. Sticky notes galore. Some are like actual annotations and some are just "reminded me of you/us :)"

JEALOUS SHAUNA mmm... glaring when you dance with someone else at a party, even if it's literally Jackie or Taissa. She doesn't care, you're supposed to be hers.

Making you wear her flannels out... especially if she isn't going to be there with you (also loves to leave lipstick marks/hickeys)

Gets VERY touchy when she's drunk. Arm around your waist, head on your shoulder. Kissing you any second she can

Less touchy sober, but still likes to be touching you, things like holding hands or just sitting next to each other

When you're alone, though, she will not let you go. She's def a cuddler

Double dates with Jackie and Jeff 😭😭😭 they're hella awkward because half the time it's just Shauna and Jackie talking and you and Jeff sitting in silence. Not your fave date nights

Shauna is a clothes stealer. You have any flannels? They're hers now. Sweaters? Great. You've been dating for like two months when you realize half your wardrobe is gone

In her defense, though, she likes it when you take her clothes, too.

You're constantly hearing shit about Jackie and all the other Yellowjackets. Like "Taissa and Van are hooking up, I think" and "Jackie won't shut the hell up about states" you honestly feel like part of the team

Eventual double dates with Tai and Van that are 10x better than the Jackie/Jeff ones. You actually feel like you can talk

Shauna is constantly giving you new book recommendations and you're like "how do you read so much you're always so busy" and she just shrugs

Modern! Shauna that hates TikTok but whenever you show her a cute couple trend she gives in and does it with you

Modern! Shauna who never responds to texts/dms. Even from you. If you have something you really need to ask her, you have to call

[raainberry]

Moonflower - III

« In literature, the moonflower has been used as a symbol of love, mystery, and enchantment. »

Sana x gn!reader

Okay maybe it’s angst this time

synopsis - your job is still flowers. she's still not sure how she got into this mess. but maybe you could get her out of it.

- part I - part II -

wordcount - 3.4K

TW - like three (3) of the same soft cuss word

A/N - here is my first piece of work that made me cry out of frustration (we will be blaming emo hours). now if you saw my breakdown live on the tl two days ago, no you didn’t. and if you saw my update yesterday saying this very thing would be up later that day, no you didn’t either. i fell asleep, your girl was running on three hours of sleep (wonder why🥰) it happens to the best of us SORRY. hope you enjoy it though! im actually not too mad at how it turned out🤭

“How would your wedding look like?” She asked, taking a sip of her water bottle.

You chuckled softly at the question, wondering what had prompted it apart from the obvious.

“I haven’t thought about that.” You answered truthfully.

“Not even once?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.” She said, convinced of her own words.

“Am I?”

“You’ve helped hundreds of people with their own.” She pointed out. “It’s impossible not to think of what yours would look like.”

“I help them choose flowers. I’m not organizing their entire reception.” You argued.

“Then you probably thought about that much.”

You turned to her.

She was right, but you weren’t lying either.

Flowers were the only thing you’d envisioned so far.

“So which is it gonna be?” She insisted.

“Moonflowers.” You answered, making her chuckle.

“I could have guessed that.”

“Yet you haven’t.”

You fully expected the way she rolled her eyes at you before looking away to focus on the dark horizon.

A small, comfortable silence settled between the two of you. One of many throughout this spontaneous outing, and with each one, you seemed to appreciate them a little more.

Because they never seem to last with her.

“I’ll get the moonflowers.” She blurted out, cutting the moment short yet again.

“What?”

“For the wedding.” She said, almost shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Given the context, it was, but still… You stayed silent, thinking back to the very reason you were even sitting beside her at the moment.

The two of you were parked at the top of some small hill overlooking part of the town, laying against the windshield of your car and sitting on top of the hood.

All your problems seemed so small up there, barely even deserving of a thought. The afternoon you just spent together did wonders for your souls.

She had asked you to drive around before going back home. That somehow lead you to hours of wasting gas and money at random shops, most of which you’d never even heard of.

The more you followed her around, the more it all felt like a getaway. Not in the idyllic sense, rather in the literal one. You could tell she was avoiding her apartment. Obviously you had an idea as to why, and maybe that’s what pushed you to give in to every single one of her requests.

It was nice doing things she wanted.

Sana eventually realised that was the true reason why she delayed returning to her apartment over and over. She couldn’t care less about the man living there with her, nor about whether or not he was actually waiting for her there.

She just didn’t want it to stop. The feeling of mattering. Of being considered. Being seen. Heard.

Her smile slowly returned as hours went by, justifying everything you’d done for her in so little time. It gave you purpose, proving you weren’t losing your mind in vain.

Because boy did she drive you insane.

Was she really still going through with it all?

“Why don’t you choose your own?” You asked her, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts.

At the end of the day, it was none of your business. It wasn’t your decision to make.

“Possessive much?” She teased, and you straightened yourself up. The top of this hood suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“Not necessarily. But the only way you’re getting moonflowers at your wedding is by marrying me.”

That’s what you heard yourself say just seconds later.

You’d mumbled it to yourself, letting your old flirting skills and days get the best of you for some reason. You looked at her, hoping she hadn’t heard or at least not enough to get it.

A second passed. Then two. Three.

The lack of questioning was alarming, and in good reason.

You had managed to make her speechless. Unwillingly, yes, but it only made it that much more unbelievable.

Even thinking she couldn’t do, as if her mind had short-circuited at the thought of marrying someone else than the man she’d been conditioned to.

“It was a joke.” You finally spoke up, hoping to break her out of her trance.

It was the truth. It might have been borderline flirting, but the main goal was humor. You were technically joking.

But still. All she did was blink.

Maybe she needed help at finding words, that’s why her lips suddenly fell on yours, right? To steal them from you?

You mentally chuckled at your ridiculous thought process, ashamed of it as if it had been heard by the whole world. Good thing it faded out with each one of her kisses.

She was efficient, you’ll give her that. However what stuck with you was how soft, how delicate her lips were against yours. It debilitated all cognitive functions of your brain. The power was out for at least three seconds at one point. You couldn’t think straight, kissing her back as if you were supposed to.

As if she were yours to begin with.

It’s unclear how long it took for you to gain enough sense back, all you knew was that feeling her bite down on your bottom lip did the trick.

The faint pain as she tugged on it ever so softly snapped you back to reality, warning you about what would come if you didn’t pull away in the next second.

You felt your heart race as it all sunk in.

The one thing you had told yourself not to fall into earlier that day… A trap that seemed so obvious it managed to fool you. You practically jumped into it.

As much as you danced around it, you knew what you were here for. What you’d agreed to. What she wanted you for.

You knew you were just a pawn in her vendetta from the start. She’d made it very clear. So why did the whole idea just dawn on you now?

Maybe you’d turned a blind eye for as long as you could, you couldn’t say to save your life. All you knew was that you didn’t like it one bit.

So when she went for another kiss, leaning in to capture your swollen bottom lip, you made sure she never reached it.

That earned you a confused look from her, as if it were the first time her kiss was denied. The sight would have been amusing, if only you didn’t feel so torn yourself…

Your gaze reflected that to Sana, and she had a hard time figuring out what exactly was it that was so wrong.

Though she could at least tell you were tormented, it was only confirmed when you jumped off the hood.

She watched as you started to walk away from the car and further into the darkness surrounding you.

Where the hell were you going? You were basically in the middle of nowhere.

“Y/N!”

The sound of the rocks and dirt beneath your shoes faded out as you came to a halt, feeling her eyes burning into your back.

“Where are you going?”

You turned around, seeing she had stepped off the hood too, and taken a few steps towards you.

“I’m going home.” You told her, tearing your eyes off her as you started walking away again.

“So you’re leaving me alone in some hilltop at night in the middle of nowhere?”

No, you weren’t.

You made sure to brush right past her on your way back, though, heading straight into the driver’s seat.

Slamming the door behind you, you let out a heavy sigh you were sure she’d heard from outside. It took longer than you’d have liked for her to join you, only sitting in the passenger seat after making sure you’d calmed down.

Not a word from her. Not a sound from you. Only your clothes rubbing together as your leg showed itself to be restless.

You refused to look at her. She didn’t like the attitude, but a part of her could understand. So she didn’t say anything, and stared out her own window in silence.

As minutes went by, your anger and frustration slowly get overcome by a familiar sensation.

Greed. You wanted to know.

Nothing about this woman concerned you. Yet you wanted to know more. You needed to.

The feeling appeared as soon as she’d spoken up at the flower shop, and now it managed to appear without a single word from her.

It was only days ago. The speed of it all was frightening.

Yet you couldn’t help how curious the still silhouette in the corner of your eye made you. What was she thinking about now?

The wedding? Her fiancé? Herself? You?

Turning to look at her, you watched her through a calmer mind as your questions grew in number despite yourself.

“What’s on your mind?” You finally spoke up.

Your voice was louder than you remembered. It startled her, but she hid it well before meeting your gaze.

“Nothing you’d care about.”

You frowned internally. The same feeling as back in the flower shop again. You felt it back when she sat down beside you on the hood earlier too.

She was close. She was pretty. So pretty.

You suddenly felt jealous, and that pretty much signed off on the insanity of this situation you’d somehow put yourself in. Or maybe she’d dragged you in it, who cares, it wasn’t important anymore.

“Don’t get married.”

You whispered this time, but the words were still loud.

Sana closed her eyes, and the silence that followed was loud enough to stress about it. Your words had slipped out again, but this time you found nothing to cover them up with.

Partly because you didn’t even want to cover them up.

Her eyes opened again, allowing the cheap lighting outside to reflect on those beautiful brown eyes. You were in awe at that point. Tired, but still able to appreciate such a pretty sight.

“You’re so unfair.”

You snapped out of your trance at the sound of your own thoughts echoing through her lips.

“What?”

“You know why I brought you here, right?”

Her gaze fixated far ahead while you could only focus on hers. You weren’t trying to make her look at you, though. You were only trying to see what she was seeing.

“Answer me.” She ordered, attempting to conceal the weakness in her voice.

“I do.” You admitted.

“Then help me.” She pleaded. “I can’t do it alone.”

“I’m trying to.” You assured her. “Ever since you stepped into the shop, that’s all I’ve done.”

“Then why did you pull away?”

You sighed once more, finding interest out the windshield as well. Your lips parted without sound for a second, debating on whether or not you should let these words slip out too…

“I don’t want to be your scapegoat.”

Sana swallowed the knot in her throat. The truth was a little hard, but it remained. You were right.

She didn’t plan on kissing you earlier. That alone could have proven your worries to be wrong. However, everything she managed to think about as soon as her lips touched yours… It all gave you more than one reason to worry.

Giving in to desire was weak on her part. Part of her regretted it. It threw away all her hopes of ever pulling the spectacular revenge she dreamed about.

So she had to think of a backup plan.

What she managed to come up with was simple, deprived of any details she would normally be able to think of. Infatuation only allowed her to think of the big picture, while she focused on satisfying her desire.

By that point, she did plan on sleeping with you. She did plan on letting her fiancé find out. And after that, she did plan on throwing you under the bus if things ever got too much to handle.

Now that her mind was given time to properly think, she realised something very upsetting.

This so called backup plan was none other than her inital one. One she’d made up in the lowest point of her life, all out of hope and lost in purpose.

She was back at square one.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, making you look back at her.

Her eyes were closed, and you found out it was a weak attempt at stopping the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

The sight of them surprisingly left you indifferent. You stared at her in silence for a few long seconds, unsure of what to do, or say.

You were hesitant, but you were far from heartless.

Your index finger ended up reaching for her jaw, catching the salted droplet before it stained the fabric of her pants below. The one on the other side of her face might have, but that wasn’t something to worry about for either of you.

Sana’s mind was stuck on your finger lingering on her sharpest bone. The feeling of your skin against hers, of a touch as innocent as this one… It was conflicting.

She opened her eyes, catching yours by surprise. She expected you to, but you didn’t look away this time. That allowed her to notice the color of your eyes for the first time.

She couldn’t tell you why she got stuck on such a detail, and to be honest, she didn’t feel the need to find a reason.

She could, so she did. Something else she hadn’t been able to do in a long while.

And it felt good.

“Y/N…”

Your jaw clenched at the sound. Your name sounded so pretty enlaced in that sweet voice of hers…

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you anticipated her next words. The flutter in your chest made itself known again as the adrenaline left little room for shock when she’d eventually say them.

“Do you still want to sabotage a wedding?”

A heavy sigh freed the breath that had caught in your throat.

It dawned on you yet again. Hearing those words for a second time… You were going in circles. This really was nothing but a trap.

You didn’t know if she’d done it on purpose, if she lured you in or if she was just as stuck as you were—Hell, you didn’t even care.

You just needed to get out while you could.

So your hand found the key in the ignition, and it took no time for you to start the car up.

The sound of the engine revving as you prepared to leave triggered something in the woman sitting next to you. Something that made her heart race as she began mumbling something.

It seemed as though she was repeating something under her breath, her gaze out in the dark around you and absent like she’d retreated within her own mind.

Her words were loud enough for you to notice she was saying something, but not enough to understand it.

You froze at the scene, unsure if you should hear her out, reassure her or step on the gas. It was obvious what you should do, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to.

So she made you do it herself.

“I don’t want to go back!” She yelled over the engine, and grabbed onto your arm.

You let go of the key, her fingers tightening around your forearm as her eyes looked for yours.

“I don’t want to go back.” She repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed, something you could only feel as your body reacted to her once more. You didn’t know what hurt more; seeing the tears pool in her eyes as she struggled to hold them back or her nails digging though the fabric and into your skin.

“Please...”

You couldn’t answer as something on her hand distracted you from the pain. Something shiny. A glimmer on her ring finger—most likely diamonds. Might as well have been rocks; it held no value in that so called promise between her and that man. At the least it didn’t for one of them.

You looked back at the bearer, your jaw tense as you thought. Your mind flashed back to mere moments ago. Why was she still wearing it? She had no right to. Not after leaving such betrayal on your lips.

“Then take it off.” You spoke up, your voice hoarse as if you’d been yelling for liberation.

Her mind was shaken, desperate to see through eyes that looked so unfamiliar now.

Your gaze was stern. It all looked blurry, as if you’d built a wall in front of what she had access to just moments ago…

“What?”

“The ring, Sana. Take it off.”

She barely glanced down at her own hand before looking back at you. The chuckle tasted bitter on your tongue.

“You can’t even face it.”

“That’s all I’ve been telling you.” She let out a defeated sob. “Why don’t you just do it for me?”

You looked back down at her hand, and her gaze followed yours to land there as well. She hated the sight of it. It felt as though it had been there forever.

All she dreamed about was taking it off.

All you had to do was take it off.

So you did, and finally slipped the ring off her finger, holding it between two of your own.

She mindlessly watched as your thumb and index rolled it around to observe it above the steering wheel. All that pain. All that torment. All because of a single, shiny metal ring.

“Doesn’t it feel lighter?” You spoke in an attempt to pull her out of her own mind. The last thing she needed was to get lost in it.

“I…” She trailed off, looking down at her hand, and finally seeing her finger naked in what felt like a lifetime. “It does.”

You trapped the jewel inside your fist, sighing as you leaned back against the back of your seat.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well…” Your hand found the commands of the automatic windows, pushing the button to roll yours down. “Whatever you do, you take care of yourself.”

Most people would have asked what the hell you were doing. If that ring didn’t hold any sentimental value, financially, it still held its own.

Not Sana, though. She didn’t seem phased by your action as she watched it land who knows where.

“Wait…” She trailed off, rewinding your words. “Are you not going to stick around?”

“I did all I could, Sana.” You started, your eyes focused out the open window as a breeze helped to dry off the tears before they even formed. “I kept my word and helped you. I took it off. But you’re gonna need to face him yourself.”

“But I can’t do it alone—“

“You have to.” You snapped, turning back to look at her. You ignored her lips parted in surprise, and continued. “If what I’ve learned about you in this short time is true, it’s the only way you’ll ever be free.”

“What have you learned?”

“Nothing.” You scoffed. “That’s why you have to do it. You’re the only one who actually knows how to deal with this. I can be by your side all you want, but I’ll never be any help. No one ever will.”

Your rant caused a small sob to escape her lips, and she ignored your surprise when she reached for your hand. You could only let her again, allowing yourself to relish in her touch and find pleasure in your body’s reactions to it.

You looked down at your joined hands, watching her intertwine them. You found yourself responding to her touch, your fingers closing around hers.

“Then at least stay.”

You softly caressed the top of her thumb, giving yourself some time to actually think before agreeing this time.

“On one condition.” You said, finding her eyes.

“What is it?”

You glanced down at your tangled hands.

It was an insane thing to look at. To feel. It didn’t make any sense. You’d only met her three days ago. You’d only spent an afternoon, part of an evening with her.

Yet so much happened. So much was felt.

You blinked, and her hand was still in yours. It felt good. But it lacked warmth.

It was telling.

At that moment in time, deep down, you knew this wouldn’t last.

Maybe you’ll part ways right after she’d break the engagement off. Maybe you’ll date and break up once you realise it was all comfort and reassurance disguising as love and affection. Maybe she won’t even break the engagement off.

Whatever the reason, you knew you wouldn’t see her at your wedding.

So you had to make one last thing clear.

“I keep the moonflowers.”

[korkorali]

Oooooohhhh are we talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene? I think we're talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene!

Okay okay this is something I have Ideas™️about- specifically why he told her, and why she believed him.

The answer (as I have so humbly decided is obviously the abject truth) is the same for both: Because he'd been manipulating her for years.

He was trying to be the Emperor Palpatine to her Anakin Skywalker.

Why? Simple: The Papyrus of Truth.

Think about it- it doesn't make sense to immediately go 'oh, only Scrooge McDuck's heir can find the Papyrus? Welp, time to steal some of his DNA and make a kid!' That's supervillain territory, and Bradford isn't a supervillain! (He's just a bit of a scumbag, but that's not a supervillain so it's obviously fine.)

So picture this: he finds out about the wish Scrooge made on the Papyrus, that only his heir could find it, and his thought patterns line up with Scrooge's:

He thinks "Alright, then it has to be one of those rugrats."

The question is, which one? Della, or Donald?

And honestly, when they're both kids- it's not really that much of a question, is it?

Is it Donald, the angry coward who loves to hole up in his room and write songs about eating the rich and basically doing everything that Scrooge hates?

Or is it Della, the adventurous and energetic ball of high-octane excitement and adrenaline, unable to sit still for a single moment, who acts like Scrooge McDuck, who likes all the same things as Scrooge McDuck, who is pretty much every single thing that Bradford Buzzard hates about Scrooge McDuck, all rolled up into a bratty child?

(Nevermind the fact that she isn't actually like that, not entirely. Nevermind the fact that she's doing all that because she feels she has to be useful, to be likeable, and that means mirroring Scrooge McDuck because if he likes himself so much then he must like seeing himself in her.)

Obviously it's Della. It has to be.

Which means, in order for him to get the Papyrus, he needed to get his claws into Della.

Which shouldn't have been hard- you can't tell me that Scrooge wouldn't do the same thing with Donald and Della that he did with Louie. He'd take them to the Money Bin (after all, it's like a second home for him), then head into his office and tell them not to disturb him.

And that'd leave Della in the perfect position for Bradford to begin to wheedle his ways past her defenses.

(Of course, multiple problems arise, not the least of which is she's a child and Bradford undoubtedly hates children. But moreso it's that she's genre-savvy, and also (and we love her for it, but) kind of dumb. It's a very frustrating mix that leads to her very nearly calling him out on what he's doing a lot.

But also, despite all that- she's still a kid.

And despite how much she thinks she knows, he's still better.)

It'd take a while, and I don't think he ever really manages it, but he still gets her to trust him.

Eventually, of course, he learns that Della isn't the 'heir of Scrooge McDuck.'

(Not sure how this happens, but it obviously does- I'm sure that lots of the Adventure Trio's adventures in the earlier days were spent searching for that missing Papyrus, but for some reason they stopped. The whole thing threatened to tear Donald and Della apart, or something.)

And that makes all the work he spent on her useless. All the time spent manipulating her, and trying (and -mostly- failing) to get her to be something he wanted, to push her to break up her family, all for naught.

Or- maybe not.

Because Scrooge keeps a secret. He makes her a spaceship. An untested, unreliable, terrible spaceship that literally runs on money.

It's horrible.

It's a waste.

It's perfect.

All the work doesn't have to be for naught. All Bradford has to do is let Della come to him one day, when she's at the Money Bin (probably because she and Donald and Scrooge were going shopping for baby toys, and she kept trying to get these really dangerous and deadly-looking ones, and ultimately got sent to the Money Bin as a bit of a 'time out'), let her rant and burn herself out to him about how frustrating Donald and Scrooge are being, how unfair they are (how scared she is, how much she just wishes they'd let her actually handle some stuff, how bad they make her feel for still wanting to adventure at a time like this, how much it feels like all either of them care about anymore are the kids and not her), how much it blows to be stuck like this.

And all Bradford has to do is offer up some half-hearted consolement, assure her that (while Donald is definitely being too overprotective) that of course Scrooge still cares about her, is still thinking about her, is still thinking about her, after all he's making her the-

And then cut himself off, like he said too much. That's aaaaallll that's needed to peak Della's interest, after all. And as soon as that's peaked- it's over.

All he has to do is hem and haw back and forth, say 'oh but he made me promise never to say anything' and 'I could get in trouble' and so on and so forth. Make it seem like he didn't want to say anything. Make Della feel like she earned the information, that he didn't plan this from the start.

And when she finally gets the information about the Spear out of him, and her eyes light up like stars and she darts off to go see if he was telling the truth, he can be confident that she'll never remember that he was the one who told her about it. All she'd be able to think about is 'I figured it out.' Because she had, after all. She'd figured it out, all her, he definitely hadn't pointed her in that direction at all.

He got to get rid of a liability and break the family, all in one fell swoop.

[terrence-silver]

Terry says to his beloved "I can give you anything and everything" and beloved says "I want a baby" how would the different era of Terrys handle this situation?

---

― Ironically, Twig, or rather a young Terry, probably heard this demand from his own parents, or at least his father, as soon as he returned from Vietnam, and maybe even before that, at a ridiculously young age; Leave that whole army shebang behind. Take over the company. Take over the family business. Expand it. Don't neglect all the privileges that were given to you in the pursuit of idle, hippy-dippy nonsense. Be the man you were always supposed to be. Give us some grandchildren who can do the same one day. Those were, in a nutshell, undoubtedly the basic tenants he might've grown up with (give or take), because those are usually the tenants more or less every traditional parent has for their kids. So, when beloved lets Terry in this period in his life in particular know that they want a baby with him, it doesn't come as a tremendously big surprise because it was somehow always a given it would happen one day --- only difference is, Terry actually has someone he absolutely desires to produce progeny with probably even more than beloved does themselves, so children might come about as a result of this relationship awfully quickly precisely because Terry wants to 'leave the whole Vietnam thing behind' just as he was advised to do, and move on --- become stronger, better, more accomplished, not bogged down by what he survived. He wants to crystallize. Get in control of his circumstances. Overcome. He is in pursuit of transformation. This is a very raw era in his life, though. And while he wants this baby to symbolize the turning of a new page there's always the looming shadow of freshly acquired PTSD still hanging over him like a dark cloud where he's convinced he'll, for the lack of a better word, fuck up somewhere where fatherhood and family is concerned; a fact perhaps outweighed by his devotion, love and eagerness to please as he stays true to his word and gives beloved everything they want. Everything. Even legacy. In spite of his complicated state of mind right about now, he's more boyishly excited for a child than beloved could ever be because he just adores the idea. It's one of the purest sources of joy he's had since the war.

― Terry Silver in the 80's literally just goes ahead and fucks beloved on the spot when they respond to his 'I can give you everything and anything' with 'I want a baby.' You want a baby? Okay. Fair enough. Not a second's to be wasted. Might as well get down to business right about now because time's money. Emphasis on the NOW. Cancel all appointments, Margaret! He does it, right there, on the floor. On nearby furniture. In the tub. In the steam room or the sauna. On the desk. In front of staff. All around the mansion. In the dojo. In the backroom of some event. In the back of his Rolls Royce. On top of the Rolls Royce. And in the weeks to follow? Sex in unusual and outlandish places shamelessly and perversely becomes a ritualistic norm, happening as often as a couple of times a day or as much as is needed for someone to get knocked up. Well, beloved said they wanted kids, and this is how kids are made. Yes. Terry treats the whole thing like running an Olympic Marathon with an Olympic torch in tow or training for some sort of extreme sport and it truly takes quite a bit of willpower, stamina, determination and strength to keep up with him, but that's what one gets when they wind him up --- it becomes pretty impossible to unwind him. It doesn't matter, though, because he's gleeful, enthusiastic, titillated, turned on and he isn't one for empty talk. He truly says what he means and means what he says. He wasn't here promising beloved that he'll give them 'anything' purely to seem fanciful. It's not just some corny line for him. This guy? He entirely meant it. And with such an intensity of force and conviction that he could genuinely have beloved pregnant within weeks, or as quickly as nature allows, because he won't stop until it happens. The only thing he and beloved will stop for is to eat, drink, bathe, rest (a little), so he could train, keep up his endurance and core power and so they could get back to fucking post-haste, often going as far as multitasking and doing above-mentioned activities simultaneously with having sex on the clock. Turns out, people can fuck, drink, bathe, rest and train at the same time if they're committed enough to a cause, and Terry Silver sure is committed.

― That's all old man Terry ever wanted. For years. Decades, in fact. That is, pretty much, the one regret of his life; not having children. In plural, you'll notice. So, when beloved suggests it with such fervor to him, it's like all of his life so far suddenly clicked into place. He is on the verge of having everything --- quite literally everything. Someone who loves him for him and wants to have his kids even when they're offered every other material possession in the world by him freely. No. Beloved picked having his babies instead. In a society where everyone's out to use everyone (and Terry could write a dissertation on the subject, trust and believe) this is a monumental occasion; a proof of beloved's worth and steadfast nature. Of their loyalty towards him. Of their love. That they're in this with him for all the right reasons. That they're not out here to use them, but rather, that they're here to build with him, so, in effect, if this was ever a test, him asking them what they want him to give them, beloved passed with flying colors. If it was possible for him to love them even more, he does now, after such a statement and it is pretty hard to describe, in a short post, how profoundly emotional Terry would be hearing this; to the degree he'd almost hesitate for a second, because what if it's too late now, at this stage in his life? What if he cannot stay in control of how long he'll have with his figurative kids even if they are born? What if it's beyond his power to pick and choose how many years are ahead of him? What if his joy is fleeting and it'll slip out of his hands like water? The idea of not having the upper hand and the authority in these decisions is infuriating and harrowing, intermingled with this overwhelming desire that --- no --- he should think large and take what he wants. When he wants it. He's always had what he wished for out of life and now should be no different, so after a period of self-reflection, brooding and I dare even say depression comes a newly found state of genuine fulfillment for Terry. He gives beloved the babies they both so dearly wanted and that guy, well...he's legitimately happy.

[cometcrystal]

listen. anyone who knows anything about me knows that i LOVE bad media. i fucking LOVE it. it legitimately brings me joy to see a movie or a game etc etc that just fucking SUCKS. i've seen manos: hands of fate 12 times. i love to rewatch vods of streamers playing the gollum game. mia and me and cyberkidz are two of my favorite shows. i will watch literally any film with a rating below 2 stars on letterboxd and i'll probably end up rating it 5 stars.

but i was watching socpens play some nintendo DS games. and beastly: frantic foto made me genuinely fucking pissed.

i have no opinion on the movie Beastly. i've never seen it. but i have a basic understanding of the premise and i thought a nintendo ds game based on this movie would be really fucking funny.

it's literally just a "find the difference" game. the ENTIRE game is finding the differences between two photos like a shitty flash game on nick dot com back in the day. there is NOTHING ELSE. it just gives you a screencap from the movie and you have to find the 5 differences. there are no other gameplay mechanics. the music is insanely generic. sometimes it switches it up a little by flipping the image or giving you a slide puzzle but that's IT.

normally, when something is so bad that it's not enjoyable to me, i still don't really get mad about it. i just go "eh it's not for me" and move on, even if the quality is abysmal, because 1000% of the time i can always tell there was at least 1 person who was putting a MODICUM of effort into making something that could be called a movie or a game or a book or whatever. like...this person didn't have to CARE about their product, necessarily. but they were like "okay, i'm making a game, so there's gonna be a little bit of gameplay". do you get what i mean?

there is not an ounce of human soul in this game. there is not an ounce of effort. this game is NOTHING. there is no reason for it to exist at all. beastly is not a movie that warrants a licensed game. not a single beastly fan in the world would lose sleep if there weren't any video games made for it. but frantic foto was made anyway.

and for what reason? who benefits from this? they weren't trying to appeal to a single human alive. even if you're a person who enjoys spot-the-difference, you're not gonna buy a whole fucking DS cartridge to play them. beastly fans aren't gonna buy it because it's just screencaps from the movie and nothing else. parents aren't gonna buy it for their kids because beastly's not really a kid's movie afaik. did ANYONE win here? because i highly doubt they expected to profit from this.

i'm so mad. i'm so fucking pissed right now. I DON'T GET ANGRY AT "BAD" THINGS EVER IN MY LIFE AND THIS HAS PISSED ME THE FUCK OFF!!!! HOW MANY RESOURCES WERE WASTED TO MAKE PHYSICAL COPIES OF THIS GAME??? HOW MUCH PLASTIC???? I'M SO FUCKING MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[vigilvntes]

You cannot convince me that Chris doesn’t pull you into his lap at every chance, even the inappropriate ones. He insists you ride on his lap in the van to “save seats”, that you sit on his lap in the office to “save seats”, tbh, most of his excuses revolve around saving seats.

i've never needed anything so bad in my entire life gimme a minute i need to catch my breath—

oKay i think you're so right about this. chris loves having you in his lap. literally every single opportunity he has to get you sitting on him, he takes it.

at the headquarters during briefings, at the bar, in the van, even in a CAR (definitely in the vigilante mobile) (cue vigilante telling you he'd kill you both if he wasn't besties with peacemaker and by default besties with you because you're peacemakers partner). like holding hands is not enough for this man, he needs to be as close to you as physically possible so having you on his lap is perfect. like you said, he definitely makes excuses and claims it's to save seats or save space. why take up a seat when you can just sit in his lap? (there are more than enough seats) (literally a seat reserved specifically for you) (but why be wasteful?). really it's because it's a comfort for him, seeing you so peaceful and content with your head resting against his shoulder and his big strong arms wrapped around you makes him so !!!!! because deep down all he wants is a genuine, human connection. also it's kinda because i think he's very territorial, and he needs to let everyone in the room, their mothers and their gay fathers who are madly in love with the man they left the mothers for know that you're his. even the team, who literally already know and are GAGGING because why the fuck do you have to be all over each other in the middle of a BRIEFING???

swooning at the thought of his huge hand resting on your thigh gOODbYE (his hand would gradually move to your ass, and he WOULD be very grabby. and then EVERYONE would be begging him to pLEASE STOP GROPING YOU BECAUSE WE ARE LITERALLY TRYING TO SAVE THE WORLD)

it's not just when he's around other people though, i think this obsession with having you in his lap would definitely be A Thing™️ when you're alone, too. like he could be in the most FOUL mood after a bad day at work, and the one thing that could possibly make him feel better is you straddling his waist. he'd have a beer in one hand, the other resting either on your thigh or your waist and he'd instantly feel a little lighter. you'd run your fingers through his hair gently and ask him so sweetly what's wrong and he'd cave immediately and spill EVERYTHING. it's the only way to get him to talk. also he'd probably have a hard-on. no, he'd definitely have a hard on.

a little nsfw from here

i think you in his lap, riding him would be his favourite thing ever, like by FAR top 10 moments for christopher smith. sure, he likes doggy (but he also maybe feels like that's a little impersonal sometimes?) and missionary (even though he probably thinks that's a little BORING). loves the eagle for uh. obvious reasons. but nothing can beat you riding him. i think he'd love to be taken care of, to just sit back and allow you to take control. of course if he wants to really fuck you he can do that, too. he just likes to watch you, to see every single reaction in your face and really pay attention to every noise that leaves your lips while you fuck yourself on his cock. also would LOVE to be praised during. this man needs to know he's good enough at all times.

christopher smith i cannot guarantee that i could fix you but i could love you so hit me up!!!!!

[stonerskinny]

why does alcohol have so many cals 😭

weighed at 277 just now, it really is crazy what a single 💩 and a nap will do for you LMAO

now do i want to risk ruining that w alc and possible binging or do i just go back 2 sleep and be good

i’m 22hrs into this fast meaning if i skip going out and having fun i can take my sleep meds and probably get to 36hrs easy but i can also see the scenario where they just don’t kick in and i end up binging anyway plus i just was aiming for 18hrs

ugh why are there so many ways this could go

the switch is flipping actively, i think. who knew i just needed to get out of the cycle for a night.

i feel like i have something to prove. which i hesitate to admit, but it’s true. apparently when all your friends are restricters and your entire ed is just you failing at restricting, theres some interesting shame stuff that comes up LOL sometimes i just feel like a lazy gross piece of shit compared to everyone in my life because i am like this unhinged fucking glutton and everyone else has the discipline i’d commit war crimes to have

i feel like a wannarexic sometimes which i basically am

i just want to do something right and the only thing i care about is this which i am royally terrible at. sometimes it’s like all i know how to do is eat, doesn’t matter that i purge because im so big.

you know i’m gonna have to lose just over 2/3 my body weight to get to where i wanna be. that’s a lot of fucking weight and there’s no way i end up without loose skin so basically im fucked if i lose to where i wanna be, and fucked if i go crazy and decide to recover because i’ll still be huge. maybe if i actually worked out i wouldn’t end up w so much loose skin or if i did this slowly but slowly pisses me off because my brain is all about that instant gratification

the longer i’m awake the more i want to binge fuck

but i know i will regret it. i knowwwww i will. because ill feel bloated and ill gain and it’ll fucking suck. or ill purge, one of the two. there’s no excuse for it though. this body does not need food, it has PLENTY of natural resources to live on lmao.

i wish i didn’t most likely have the hellscape combo of hypothyroidism + PCOS which both individually make weight loss hard and weight gain so easy. but at the same time i can’t erase my failure by crying about genetics, if i really wanted to get there i’d already have gotten there long ago so now im just wasting everyone’s time.

can u tell the suicidality came back so strong tonite lol

i wonder how many ppl actually read these monstrosities that i write. how many ppl actually absorb my thoughts. trippy

sometimes i think i don’t actually have an eating disorder at all because i am just so inconsistent with anything besides binging. which i know is its own ed but let my silly little rat brain have its moment.

also apparently i literally sleep like the dead bc my hr was 40 when i was sleeping earlier so that’s fun no wonder i wake up feeling like a fucking corpse every day

okay that’s all for now i’ll spare y’all the rest of my brain while i lay here and mentally debate the pros and cons of both trazodone and tequila

[cosmo-clown]

You were literally who I was looking for:

Infodump in Dust AND Blueprint

OKAY BUT I WILL WARN YOU MY BLUEPRINT IS THE OPPOSITE OF HOW I TREAT DUST

I try to be very close to canon with dust,,,, i read through the whole blog (post hopefullylyyy coming soon still need to write it but due to reasons i might not get it done for a while college is so hard chat but i will try to get it out as soon as i can!! i have not forgotten!!!!)

DUST IS JUST REALLY SAD. REALLY DEPRESSED LITTLE GUY. he is miserable every day of his silly little life whether he’s having a good time or not he will always find a way to bring himself back into his own misery. he can never be happy with himself and what he’s done and the guilt of his actions will always haunt him and his hallucinations will loom above him reminding him that he’s a terrible person who can never achieve redemption, and even if he could he doesn’t deserve to be happy in the slightest. he treats himself like absolute shit when the player gives up on his timeline and lets himself waste away (and when nightmare picks him up, this doesn’t change, he just becomes nightmare’s little depression purse, like how dream gets energy from people cheering him on nightmare carries this depressed lump of a skeleton as an energy source)

i think thats canon-adjacent enough,, i think dust would fight against these things but i think he loses eventually,, not much you can really do against a god of negativity,,

BLUEPRINT on the other hand is. entirely headcanon. basically every detail has either been maassively editted or changed. i have reference sheets but i’m literally self conscious idk if i should post them yet.,, the arts olddd i probably need to redraw it

i’ll be drawing him over on @ask-fruit-punch when we start up again BUT as a treat here are some silly fun facts!! (more where this comes from i’ve been fixating for about a year now please save me)

-unlike canon, writing is something he actively enjoys and does, and he always has a notebook in his hands

-he is soulless!! he cannot feel emotions naturally and he’s a bit different to how ink is because [redacted]

-he’s twins with palette

-his paint inflicts poison damage!!

-he lives in the omega timeline :]

-more coming soon~~ he’s actually my favorite i have a whole redesign for whiteprint too plus like a bajillion aus of this guy please talk to me about him i’ll never stop (but also dont because i gotta save this for the cool ask blog!!) (but also please plase plase do i’ll scream and cry and throw things around my room /pos)

[rjalker]

Giving these their own posts, feel free to use them as writing prompts.

Good uses for magical healing:

1.

"Protagonist has literally carved their heart out for a magical ritual to prevent our beloved god from dying. But it's okay, we don't have to plan their funeral, because our beloved patron deity ritual has gifted them the heart of a wolf in exchange, so now part of their soul is a wolf and obviously this will change them in ways we can't yet predict, but they're alive, and so is our patron deity! When they wake up, we're going to throw the biggest party anyone's ever seen!"

2.

"Don't worry, the arrow you took to the leg won't make you bleed out, I've used a healing spell to close up the artery and stopped the bleeding.

"We just have to be careful about removing the arrow so we don't cause more damage, but you should still be able to use your leg, you probably just won't have as much ability as before, depending on if we can get this arrow out properly or not.

"Yeah, don't worry, I've got a spell that can knock you out so you won't have to be awake when we remove it, I promise you won't feel a thing."

3.

"Oh you have a headache? Here I've got a Stop Pain spell that'll work for an hour. Okay, now that you can think clearly let's try to figure out what's causing the headache. Wait, weren't you just outside? It's been scorching hot out all day with no clouds -- when was the last time you had anything to drink or took a break? Here, come and sit down in front of the fan and drink some cool water before we do anything else."

Literally just bigotry:

1.

"Oh you were born with one of your arms ending at the elbow? Well I, random wizard you just met, fixed that for you! No I did not ask, no I won't undo it, you should be grateful!"

2.

"Oh woe is me I am disabled and my life is nothing but suffering my entire story revolves around wishing I weren't disabled and despairing about how my life is worthless and the only way I will ever feel better is if I go on a massive dangerous traumatizing quest to find a cure so I can be Normal™ and Ablebodied™ and Neurotypical™".

3.

"Oh, did no one tell you that you don't have to worry about that here? No, every part of this city is warded to prevent conception of imperfect embryos.

"We're very proud of it, the spell's been going for generations -- it's why our streets are so clean and our hospitals thriving, only treating the usual injuries, not bogged down with invalids.

"The spell is prophetic in nature, and automatically detects any potential imperfections or abnormalities in a developing embryo and if it detects that it would develop into an imperfect child, it's aborted before you even have to notice anything amiss. The only children born here are healthy ones.

"Other cities have to waste resources feeding and housing their cripples and [R slur]s. They waste the valuable time of surgeons fixing intersex children. Not us, we cut them off at the source. If you get pregnant here, you're guaranteed to have a healthy baby.

"What's that? You were already pregnant when you entered the city boundaries? Well, have no fear, madam, if there's any chance the child would be born imperfect, the spell will still take effect.

"Wait--where are you going?"