#I love his blob form

[ygodmyy20]

Spirit cuddles. Sometimes shigeo just likes being in his spirit form. In this idea, he was sick so he couldn’t be with anyone physically, so he moved around as a spirit to still hang out with people. Teru thinks his spirit boyfriend is the best.

"He stays in Teru's lap like a kitty" - @sodasexual giving me prompts till forever my head is full of them.

[encryptedlunacy]

Got to take some stuff home from the ceramics workshop I went to and the highlight has got to be the little tiger I made that went through so much character development he became a raccoon

Poorly made but much beloved <3

[parlerenfleurs]

I cannot believe someone as handsome as my beautiful boyfriend is with me. It's unscientific, seriously.

[cookinary]

Buddy doodles cuz he's been on my mind lately

[lass-us-slay]

So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

.

.

.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: f! reader, aged up! yuuta, noncon/dubcon, rough sex, mean yuuta, dacryphilia

yuuta is kind of tired of being so sweet. he’s always been so nervous and almost too caring during your intimate nights, but he just craves more. especially when he knows how you get when he’s even a little rough.

so, of course, he’s just gonna test the waters. but, poor boy loses control and now he's in the deep end.

he’s got you folded up in the meanest mating press, his hipbones digging into your ass, but, more importantly, his cock bullying your poor cunt. he might've been a little rash—what kinda guy interrupts a relatively slow makout by practically ripping her clothes off? though, he is so obsessed with you like this that he just doesn't care.

you're sobbing. it's not a few tears of pleasure, it's fat blobs streaming down your cheeks, moans replaced with cries. it hurts. he’s slamming into your cervix relentlessly. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful—how’s he supposed to stop?

it's not his fault your salty tears make your pretty puffy cheeks glimmer in the dimness of his bedroom, that they compliment your skin so nicely. and it's certainly not his fault that, the harder you cry, the harder your pussy squeezes his aching dick.

“you're so pretty,” he mumbles.

“it feels so good, right?” he asks with a shaky smile, “so, so good, sweetie.” he’s talking to you like he’s not absolutely wrecking ur insides with an insane stamina.

you shake your head, sniffling. you’d be pushing him off you (or at least trying to get him to slow the fuck down) if he didn't have one hand digging around both your wrists.

“no?” he tilts his head in a faux innocence—now he’s just being a bitch, “your body says otherwise.”

he lets your legs fall on either side of his hips when he moves the hand he was holding them against you with the rub circles on your swollen clit. a moan, for the first time since he forced himself onto you tonight, slips from your mouth and cuts off a choked sob.

“feels awful, huh?” he almost laughs.

you’d never seen your yuuta like this. a sweet, respectful boy. maybe occasionally perverse, though it always seemed to be rooted in love and attraction to you, but this? he’s barely recognizable. he’s dirty and mean.

your clothes were all discarded sans your underwear. the cotton was rubbing against him uncomfortably. naturally he’s gotta get rid of it.

rrrrrriiiiiiiiiipppppppp! he breaks the dampened fabric with no effort at all.

“be quiet, hm?” he says it so sweetly, like yuuta. he shoves the panties into your open mouth with a grin that has to be evil. your cries and half-moans are muffled now, face scrunched up in discomfort at having to taste yourself.

“good,” he praises.

“yuuta, h-hurts,” you barely make out through the ball of fabric in your mouth.

his hips still for a moment, an expression of genuine pondering crossing his features. he knits his brows together and pinches his chin in thought. he lets his eyes wander over your form. face wet and flushed, body covered in his teeth marks and goosebumps, legs shaking like a leaf—he has his answer.

he starts up his movements again, pounding into you somehow harder. you cry out loudly, the broken sound barely even muffled. he smiles so sweetly, that smile thst you love.

“i don't care, pretty girl.”

[sunshine7queen]

@yuujispinkhair @windlullaby @thefallofruins

[sweetshuga]

「 ✦ 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒔𝒇.ᐟ𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕’𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 ✦ 」

You stood in front of Matt – who sat on the chair in front of the desk you always sat at to do your make up – and your hands gently tilted his face until he was looking directly at you, a soft cotton pad doused in your favourite tonic gently dabbed against his skin. His eyes closed as he let out a small sigh of contentment.

"That feels good." He hummed, hands resting on his lap as he let you wipe his face with the cotton pad. "Mhm, your hair is in the way though, hold on." You leaned forward and fished out a cute pink hair clip from one of the drawers under the desk and clipped the front of his hair to the top of his head, chuckling at the small bump of hair that formed on the top of his head.

"You look so pretty." You cooed teasingly as you resumed what you were doing. "Shut uup." Matt groaned, opening his eyes to mock glare at you. However, his annoyance dissipated as quickly as it appeared and the groan dissolved into a soft chuckle, a small smile plastering on his face as he closed his eyes again.

You put the cotton pad aside on the desk and picked up the small bottle of serum and applied three drops to his face—one on his forehead and one on each cheek. Your brows furrowed slightly in concentration as your fingers patted his skin, soaking the serum in.

"Mm... I’m getting sleepy," Matt mumbled before continuing in a more playful tone, "You should do this more often, feels really good." He smiled, eyes still closed and sitting perfectly still for you to keep applying skincare without any disturbance.

You took the roll on eye serum next and gently rolled the tip over his lower eyelid, repeating the same on his other eye.

Matt laughed when you started to fan his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement as he opened them to look at you. "What are you doing?" He questioned, barely suppressing his giggles. "Uh, drying your face?" He laughed again at your reply, finding it oddly amusing.

You rolled your eyes, trying to look annoyed despite the smile that was forming on your lips. "Okay, laugh it up geez." You grumbled, trying to look annoyed as you took the tube of moisturizer and squeezed a blob on your fingertips before applying to his face—patting it all in.

"Al-right," you gently patted his face one last time before stepping back. "All done!" You exclaimed, putting away the skincare – scattered all around your desk – back in their places.

"Aren’t you forgetting something?" He grinned before pouting playfully, barely holding back from laughing out loud, his shoulders trembling with suppressed giggles. "What about my lips? Are you gonna leave it all dry?" He teased, a small laugh finally escaping him when he saw your eye roll.

"Here, you can apply it yourself big baby." You handed him a lip balm, the frosted mint one from space camp—which Matt recognized immediately, chuckling as he applied some onto his lips.

You and Matt changed into more comfortable and loose clothing and got in bed, ready to binge watch some movies since it was the weekend. A comfortable silence filled the room – only broken by the sounds from the movie playing on your laptop.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆.ᐟ | 𝒘𝒄 – 𝟓𝟔𝟏 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

⋆˚࿔ 𝒊𝒔𝒂’𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ .ᐟ This is js something fluffy in the midst of, well, everything. I’m not used to writing fluff and the ending was so rushed ’cause I didn’t know what else to write lol. Anyway, love and appreciate you all so so so much<333

[loveyouprongs]

winter mornings

sirius black x fem!reader

upcoming content: fluff!!! literally just fluff!!!! mention of smut at the end, but only a little.

authors note: :] been a hot minute since i wrote something but i hope you all like it! please please please reblog or comment if you enjoyed! it gives me sm motivation❄️

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

the staccato clicks of sirius’ back as he twisted his spine in the sheets served as your alarm for the past week. he let out a soft groan as he ran his hand down his face, then through his hair- which even after two years of being his girlfriend were you mystified at his ability to have his dark locks always fall perfectly into place. “it’s so not fair,” you muttered and you could see a grin spread across sirius’ face before he fully turned back to face you.

sirius darted his stare across your form, your warm body wrapped up in blankets and an image of the stuffed bear he treasured as a child flashed in his mind, only doubling the love inflating him. even with half your face smushed in the pillows and sleep in the corner of your eyes, to him, you’re a siren. he immediately flopped back onto the bed, pressing his body as close to yours as possible, letting his fingers dance across your waste and you shivered from the cold he let in when he lifted the blankets.

“what’s not fair, my love?”

“you.”

“me?” sirius’ eyebrow quirked up, the giddy smile on his face only growing.

“yes, you. your immune to bedhead. it isn’t fair.” you pouted.

sirius let out a giggle that, if he wasn’t lying right in front of you, you’d believe would have come from a child. you remembered when you first met sirius, you couldn’t even look him in the eye, he was that intimidating (and attractive) to you, but now you’re the one who makes him grow bashful from a little compliment slipped into his mornings.

“what can i say, doll, some of us are blessed by the hair-gods.”

you hummed agreeably, twisting his strands through your fingers and sirius basked in the warmth of your skin touching his. god he was pathetic and god was he happy. “and some of us are blessed by them being our boyfriends.”

sirius giggled again, he’s been doing that a lot lately, “c’mere silly,” he whispered, the last syllable already affected by his lips pressing to yours. with a sharp inhale, he branded his hand to the small of your back, bringing you impossibly closer to him as his lips parted and he tilted your head for better access.

the way sirius kissed was addicting. he held you to him tightly, greedily, eating up all the love and affection he never believed he’d ever be on the receiving end of. the way he warmed you from your head to your toes, mouth working yours with passion and care that made you believe he wanted to sometimes eat you up whole, have your body meld into his until you became some “two headed, one body, blob” (his own words)

sirius recalled this to you during a late night makeout session earlier into your relationship, sirius’ eyes rimmed red from the high he was riding, and he pulled back to tell you his wishes.

“siri… that’s so gross!”

“it’s not gross! it’s lovely, we’d be one big person made out of love! but with two heads so we could still chat.”

your body shook as you laughed at the memory. “oi, wha’s s’funny?” he muttered against your lips, “not exactly good to make your girl laugh while your kissing ‘er.”

you let out another bark of laughter, falling back onto the pillow and sirius fell helpless to the magnetic pull you had on him as he rested his head on your chest. the snow was roaring away outside, making it impossible for either of you to leave the flat. not that you wanted to anyway. he couldn’t believe how lucky he was, how lucky he is. a pang of something dark struck in his ribs as he thought of how young he was when he came to terms with being forever alone. how whoever he could pull at some bar or club would be enough to satisfy him. he never thought he’d memorize the rhythm of someones footsteps, come home to two tea-stained mugs in the sink of the flat he shared. never thought someone would be able to split his chest in two and reach in to hold his heart in their soft, soft hands. never thought he wouldn’t find that enough. he wanted to give himself to you entirely.

“what’re y’thinking about?” you asked softly, lightly scratching his scalp and sirius practically purred as he bonked his head against your hand.

sirius propped his chin on your collarbone, faces merely millimeters away from each other. his sparkling silver eyes traced your face in a way that would have made you intimidated in the early days of your relationship, but now you allowed yourself to bask in his gaze.

“you,” he said simply.

“sirius black is thinking about me? wow, dreams do come true!” you gasped, a beaming smile splitting your face.

sirius rolled his eyes at your surprise and snuggled up closer to your warmth, his face fitting into the crook of your neck.

“for your information doll, sirius black is always thinking about you,” he rasped in your ear.

it couldn’t be said any other way, your heart felt like it was going to explode. every now and then sirius would say something so lovely it stopped you in your tracks, made your brain short circuit. and he knew it.

“siriusssss,” you whined, trying to hide your face with no luck as sirius gripped your shoulders.

he chuckled, his stomach rustling the thin sheets. “it’s true,” he crooned.

the two of you laid like that as the minutes of the morning ticked on, both staring at the snow falling down outside the window.

“there is no chance we can go out in that.”

sirius snorted incredulously, “did you have any plans today?”

you turned in his arms, facing him, “well no, but siri, we’ve been inside all week. we’ve become hermits!”

sirius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, “that’s what winter is about!”

“spending all day lazing about?”

“yes! spending all day under the covers, drinking hot chocolate-“

“that you spike with irish liquor”

“drinking hot chocolate! watch that sass, little lady, or you won’t get to know what the third thing is, and if i know you,” he laughed hautily, “and i think i do, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

you could feel the once warm energy around you both crackling with electricity, “oh i will be, will i?”

“mm-hmm”

“well, we can’t have that. siri,” you began, blinking your eyes at him as sweetly as you could. the way sirius’ smug grin fell for a second revealing his soft, enamored smile proved to you that it worked. “please tell me what else winter days are for? i would hate to be ‘sorely disappointed.’”

“ah, for you, doll? anything.”

sirius pressed his lips to your ear, shivers ran down your spine.

“winter days are for sleeping, drinking hot chocolate, and eating your girl for lunch.”

the snow was halfway up your window by now and sirius’ hand running up and down your leg further made you feel like the two of you were the only people on earth.

sirius pressed hot kisses to your cheek, trailing downwards your body. “thank god for winter days then.”

[sunshine7queen]

@yuujispinkhair @windlullaby

Sukuna after his defeat at Shinjuku — He ends up as your... pet... blob?

Like the last thing he remembers is proudly declaring to Yuuji's foolish requests of starting over that he's a curse and then he remembers just drifting away to what he believed would be an eternal slumber for him.

But then he's confused because suddenly it's dark, he's confined into a tight space and he could hear... muffled voices of someone singing...?

You had just moved into your new place, your grandfather's old home in the outskirts of a small town. A quiet and peaceful place especially far away from loud and terribly dangerous city that Tokyo had become.

You were an aspiring artist and you believed that you will draw so much inspiration from your new home.

You opened one of your boxes while humming a soft tune and jumped when you saw... something??? in it. A weird... blob looking—maybe it's some weird deformed one eyed frog? How did it end up in your box??

Sukuna squinted his eye at the sudden brightness and glared up at you. This is not... the afterlife, right? What the hell is this??

You curiously lifted your hand to touch the weird blob frog and then suddenly... it spoke.

"Touch me and I will slice your finger off, stupid woman."

Needless to say you screamed and flipped the entire box over. Before scrambling to the far side of the room.

Poor Sukuna is now buried helplessly under some books and other shit and that's when he realized he was still in that... weak and disgusting form Yuuji had reduced him to.

As he was wiggling out of the pile while thinking about the fact that this is probably hell, you are in the far corner, holding a pair of kitchen tongs and tense up when you see him before shouting "What the HELL are you???"

And before he could open his mouth to even threaten you further or maybe even cut you up, he gets pounced by a fluffy white... Cat.

"What the—get off of me! Unhand me this instant!! WOMAN, control your creature or I will end it's life!!" Sukuna demands as he wiggles away from the cat.

And Sukuna did try to end the cat's life. He really did but to his horror his cursed energy, that used to be as vast as the fucking ocean, was so, so low that he only managed a tiny shallow cut of the cat's paw that it dismissed with a swift lick.

Still you got your cat, Luna, away before that thing could hurt her.

And that is how the King of Curses comes into your life. You don't know that though because to you he's some weird mutated and helpless frog. You had considered tossing him outside but you kinda felt bad for the little guy. (he's so small. Like he can fit in your palm! Even if he does threaten you to die, he would be helpless outside.)

And Sukuna, on the other hand, had went from trying and failing to kill you (and your damn cat) to throwing every creative death threat he can think of to downright ignoring you as he stayed slumped on the floor with his eye closed, trying to tap into his depleted cursed energy. Anything to maybe help him gain his form back or atleast legs so he could walk but luck wasn't in his side at all.

He had stayed like that for a good two days. By that time you were done moving in and organising your stuff. For a second, you thought he was dead but a quick poke with a spatula confirmed he was very much alive when he suddenly threatened to eat your liver.

So anyway Sukuna is stubborn af. He refuses to acknowledged your presence and just stays on the floor meditating or spaced out, trying to figure out a way to get out of this predicament or wait until he has enough CE to actually do something.

But then you bring him food. You realized he hasn't eaten a thing ever since you found him.

"Here. I'm not sure what you eat but with the way you talk about eating my heart or whatever so I'm guessing it's meat." You say as you place a plate of cooked steak in front of him.

For a moment, his pride does not let him touch the food. But then you come back and see the plate completely empty, you smile.

"Can I atleast pick you up and place you by the window? I know you get bored sitting on the floor all day." You ask one day.

Sukuna doesn't say anything and simply glares at you before giving a simple "hmph".

You take that as a yes and carefully scoop him up before placing him on the window sill. The view of the beautiful countryside is incredible and you're sure the little guy will appreciate it.

And Sukuna does, somewhat. After being exposed to the bustling and overwhelming atmosphere of the modern world, he's glad this world still has... some places that remind him of his own era.

You gently place a plate of food next to him and this time, instead of eating when you go away, he eats it while you're still here. He slithers closer to the plate and using his tiny paws, he holds the meat down before taking a large bite.

He glares when you stifle a laugh.

"... What should I call you?" You ask.

Sukuna frowns at that question. It's the first time someone has asked for his own name. He doesn't have one, obviously since all his life, others were the ones who labelled him: demon, monster, god, the Fallen One, the Honored One, the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna.

"How does Poupou sound?" You suggested with a grin to which his blood red eye looked at you with nothing but pure hatred.

"Sukuna. Call me that one more time and I will feast on your eyes, you useless woman."

... Sukuna it is then.

[c0s-lettuce]

wonder - sergei kravinoff x reader

gender not mentioned

synopsis: you and sergei have always had a friends-with-benefits sort of relationship. but it teeters on something more and more each time he sees you.

word count: 1026

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of violence, minimal swearing

a/n: aaron taylor-johnson, what a man. i think this is the fastest i've written a fic after watching the movie/show. hope you enjoy reading! <3

Sergei and his father have always had their differences. The patriarch would always prattle on about weakness and fear. It was exhausting and mostly certainly not something Sergei missed.

You were a weakness, though. Sergei was sure of this. He kept very few people in his life, and all were for good reason. You were the only exception. He ought to stay away from you, for your sake and his. But he could never bring himself to do so, no matter how hard he tried.

Initially, your relationship with Sergei was purely transactional. Your body for his, and he would be out of your hair soon after. It didn't take long for that to change. He knew he was beginning to grow attached, but he didn't care. He was sure the feeling was mutual.

You were like a balm for his soul, a remedy for the loneliness his line of work brought him. The only intimacy he had with other people was when he was driving sharp objects into the necks of his targets. His hunts were intense and chaotic, but they were something he knew well and was exceptionally good at.

Being intimate with you wasn't so different, except it was infinitely more beautiful. Sergei revelled in the way you trusted and desired him, in how you consumed each of his senses. And the way you fit against him made him wonder more than once whether the two of you were made for each other.

But there were days when he craved more than just your body. He would find himself longing for your gentle embrace and honeyed words. You offered him more affection than he deserved, more than whatever this casual arrangement called for. Yet you gave anyway, and he was all too eager to take.

He adored the feeling of your lips against his forehead and your fingers in his hair as he rested beside you, basking in the blissful state you would leave him in. He would rest his head on your chest, and your heartbeat would drown out the otherwise unbearable noises of your apartment building. And he would fall asleep in your arms.

Sergei was an enigma to you. When it came to his profession, both of you agreed that the less you knew, the better. It was strange, you thought. You were aware of his reputation. But he was so sweet with you, so vulnerable. Sometimes, it made you wonder what else he could be with you. It's then when you would stop your train of thought and join him in sleep.

He would always wake first. And as he looked upon your sleeping form, he would tell himself that now is the best time to leave. And he would at first, with no more than a lingering glance. But the glance lingered longer each time.

He immediately knew he made a mistake the day he decided to stay. There was a particular look in your eyes when you woke up and found him still next to you. Sergei couldn't quite place it. Was it relief? Amusement? Hope?

No, he wouldn't let himself think it was anything akin to love.

Either way, it was addictive. He vowed to never miss any opportunities to see it again.

But on this occasion, Sergei seeks you out after an especially gruelling hunt. He sleeps deeper and for longer than usual. A soft, high-pitched meow wakes him in the morning. He opens his eyes and sees that you're gone. The door is ajar, and your voice can be heard talking to someone on the phone. You sound irritated.

Sergei finally turns his attention to the small blob that has taken your spot in the bed. Sitting there is your cat, Suki, staring wide-eyed at him.

"Hello," he greets her, his voice rough as he readjusts to the waking world.

Suki meows again as if replying to him. Sergei cracks a small smile and props himself up on his elbow. He scoops Suki closer, and she happily snuggles up to him. He busies himself with giving her scratches and belly rubs as he waits for you.

You return to the bedroom soon enough, looking down at your phone with disdain. You sit down on the edge of the bed with your back facing Sergei, tapping away at the screen.

"Everything alright?" he asks you.

"Yeah," you say, "Just my work deciding to bother me on a Saturday morning."

"What do they want?"

"To remind me of deadlines. Don't worry, I'm very politely telling them to fuck off."

Sergei lets out a chuckle. "Alright, good."

Suki's purrs fill the silence as you finish typing your angry text message. You place your phone down with a huff and look over to see Sergei pampering your cat. The sight warms your heart.

"You know, she sits and stares at the front door for at least twenty minutes everytime you leave," you tell him.

Sergei looks up at you, amused. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think she loves you more than me," you reply.

Sergei laughs, looking back at Suki. "Is that right, киса? Do you love me?"

Again, she meows right on cue. You notice she's rather enthusiastic for a cat. Ignoring your daughter's betrayal, you lie back down beside Suki and her new dad. Your eyes fall closed, the comfort of sleep still tempting you.

"You got any plans for today?" Sergei asks after a moment.

"No," you answer, "Just hoping to relax."

He nods, but you don't see it. You also don't notice how he seems to be debating something with himself. After a few seconds, he makes up his mind.

"I'll make us breakfast then," Sergei says.

You open your eyes, surprised. He's never offered to do that before, let alone stayed long enough for you to offer it instead. When you turn to look at him, he's already getting up and heading to the door. Suki gets up after him, carelessly stepping over your stomach to follow him out of the bedroom.

As the pair disappear into the kitchen, you lie there in stunned silence, wondering what's gotten into Sergei. Though, you're definitely not complaining.

➸

[error-404-code9]

You know what I love…

When people’s superpowers get worse when they’re scared.

Like sympathetic nervous system is a-going, heart is racing, and your whole body thinks you’re in danger. So it tries to kick in your powers to protect itself. I’m taking:

People with electric powers shocking themselves when touching a door knob.

Water powers unconsciously forming a water bubble and spilling it on themselves.

Fire powers smelling smoke suddenly, only to look down at their hands and realize their hands are heating up and burning the sweat off their hands.

Super genius’ drawing a blank and stuttering when someone asks them a question.

People with super speed bouncing their leg up and down or fiddling with their fingers so fast, it looks like one massive blob

(And of course the famous example) Miles, and his spider powers, sticking to everything.

Superhumans and their powers need to be one. I think often we forget about the ‘human’ part. Superpowers being inconvenient is comedic, cool to see, and shows that their powers aren’t just a cool feature they can just turn on and off. It’s a part of them. Just… people’s powers messing up when they’re scared. Give it a thought

[rainy-day-revelry]

As many people have mentioned, Dream is very good about framing things to make himself sound right and other people sound unreasonable. But not a single video or post he has made so far can convince me that he is doing this with good intentions, because of the way he speaks towards everyone else involved and those he dragged in.

Now I mainly picked up on this with Tubbo and Tommy, but there are hints of it towards his viewers too: he speaks to us all like we’re children. The way a parent talks to a child they’re trying to gently reprimand, or the way a teacher talks about a subject in class. He speaks like we would never be able to come to these conclusions without his help and that he needs to guide us through it all or we’d get lost in the sea of information. And sure, plenty of his viewer base are kids, but the majority of people who would be watching this drama are fans from the Dream SMP era who knows all these people and remembers when they all used to talk and hang out. We may have been kids back then, but it’s coming up on half a decade since that server began; we’re not kids anymore. I myself started watching the DSMP when I was a underclassman in high school, I’m in college now. All the people he called the R-slur, the people who were offended and wanted an apology that he took days to properly deliver, most of us are adults. We can form our own conclusions, and we’re not an amorphous blob of opinions and views, we’re our own people.

This is especially bad when talking about it to Clingyduo, especially Tubbo. In his 3 hour stream he continually talks about Tubbo being misguided, and despite saying he has great respect for Tubbo and his opinions he skips context and actual criticism multiple times or, as Tubbo mentions, tunnel visions on one part of the criticism he can target and tosses the rest out with it when he’s done. He doesn’t give two shits about what Tubbo says unless it’s something he can use against the people criticizing him to make them sound disingenuous. With Tommy it’s worse, because when he’s not villainizing him beyond belief he’s using that condescending tone to talk about how proud he is and how he thought Tommy was special, which explains why Tommy felt so much pressure from him and like he owed him his success, or at least that Dream thought as much. He holds his approval over his head, like an abusive parent who just spent hours screaming in your face about how much of a disappointment you are before telling them “Of course I still love you.” It has the underlying tone of “you’ll make up for this slight, won’t you?”

And don’t even get me started about the DMs to both Tommy and Sarah. It’s fine to explain your feelings, but you’re not explaining them, you are blaming these feelings and reactions on them and telling them “You are the reason I’ve been suffering, it’s your fault for all of these horrible things that other people have been doing to me.” That’s not explaining your feelings, that’s guilt tripping and expecting an apology. That’s how long texts like that come across, that you don’t want the other person to be able to interject, you don’t want to make this a conversation, you want to drop your feelings and leave them to clean up the mess.

Dream’s a manipulative jerk, that’s all this has proved to me.

[firebunnylover]

In transformers,

What are sparklings? Are they like robot babies?

YES!

They are a mostly fan concept however. Hasbro has been cowards and unfortunately haven't realized how good an idea it is.

Mostly cuz that opens the floodgates of robot pregnancy I assume.

With that said, IDW comics does touch on the concept as far as I understand, regarding protoforms where they start out like lil marshmallows, then grow into their basic robot forms.

I think that protoform is a scraplet, but I'm not terribly familiar with IDW continuity so take that with a grain of salt.

In TFA, Sari can technically count as one.

Prof. Sumdac found her as a lil protoform that somehow ended up in his lab and after touching her, she somehow absorbed his DNA and became humanlike.

We probably would have GOTTEN MORE INFO IN SEASON 4 ABOUT HER ORIGINS BUT WE DIDN'T GET SEASON 4!!

Personally, I love the idea that they start off as lil squishy marshmallow blobs, developing arms n legs later on as they develop, along with more rigid structures.

And I think sparklings could be one of the reasons why Cybertronian altforms' tend to have this conveniently open space in them that you can access. They can get carried around like how marsupial do

Also we can't forget the biggest contribution to Sparkling Ideas, the KOBD child - Wildbreak.

He had so many similar traits to the gay cat husbands that fans just took the idea he was their kid and RAN.

(old drawing of mine of KOBD family feat. sparklings Wildbreak and Override)

I don't draw KOBD family as much as I should, I apologize for that.

[thesoftuglywrites]

Baby, Both Arms Cradle You Now

Based on this headcanon of mine.

Reader insert is afab and referred to as such.

WC: 2.3 K

As you stood at the kitchen counter, chopping up the vegetables that would be used for the dinner that you were preparing for both you and your husband, you heard the front door open, signifying that Kento has just come home from work.

"Tadaima."

"Okaeri!" you called out, not looking up from the cutting board, the greeting ritual second nature to you.

You heard him shrug off his suit jacket, then followed by the harness that held his blunt knife. You felt his presence behind you as he wrapped his arms around your trunk and leaned his face into the junction of your neck and your shoulder. "Hey, you," he cooed.

You turned your head and pressed a quick peck to his cheek as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. "Hi. How was your day?"

“Oh, you know. Dealt with a grade one curse with Ino-kun and Itadori-kun, filed some paperwork, enjoyed the bento that you made. Same old, same old.” He returned the affections by peppering the top of your shoulder with small pecks. "How are you and baby doing?"

"Just peachy." You set the knife down and gently patted the top of your bump.

At eight, almost nine, months pregnant with your first child, your abdomen had protruded outwards to a length that you’ve never seen it reach before. With the extra weight due to the life that grew inside of you, came the aches in your joints and the strain on your lower back. Not to mention the en masse of hormones that wreaked havoc on you on a daily basis, finding yourself nauseous at the smells and aromas of foods that were once your favorite dishes to consume, ravenous for the most unorthodox food combinations, and among various other things.

Kento had been an absolute pillar of support for you during this time for you. Early in the mornings where you wound up at the rim of the toilet bowl, while at the complete mercy of your irritable stomach, he would be right beside you, holding back your hair and offering affectionate words of support. Kento would wordlessly take your feet into his lap whenever the two of you would be sitting on the couch in the den, and attempt to massage away the inflamed tissue on your feet and ankles. Whenever the peculiar food cravings would hit you, whether it be in the middle of the day or the middle of the night, he would conjure up whatever you were desiring, and would immediately start getting the pots and pans out of the cabinets, no questions asked.

No matter what you may have needed or wanted, your husband provided it for you to the best of his ability.

He would attempt to be present at every check up that you would have whenever his work schedule would allow him, desperate to know how their child was growing and developing. The ultrasound appointments were a non-negotiable, in his mind, to be absent of. Every time that the little black blob formed on the ultrasound monitor, Kento could have sworn that they hung the moon and stars in his world. The very first time that a 3D rendition was able to be formatted from an ultrasound, he immediately asked for a second copy, aside from the one that you would pin up to your kitchen refrigerator, so that he could tuck away it into his wallet.

"Do you need any help at all?" He murmured, not moving from his spot as he tucked his face back into the crook of your neck. You felt his hands wander farther forward, gently grasping at the front of your abdomen as he spread his fingers outward.

You relished in his touch, feeling yourself become more at ease and relaxed as you allowed yourself to indulge in his warmth. As he draped himself over your backside and your baby bump, you could quite literally hear the gears turning in his head as he plotted out his next move. "Mmm… no, I’m almost done. Do you wanna get out the plates and silverware while I finish up?"

"In a moment, darling. Wanna love on you for just a second."

A soft smile formed on your face, knowing what was to follow. You could felt his palms gingerly grasp your belly as Kento lifted your bump upwards, slowly but surely relieving the strain on you, your lower back, and your joints, allowing him to take on the brunt of the extra weight that your baby had upon your body. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the sudden release of the tension upon you.

It had become Kento’s "thing", per se, once your bump started to take form. Initially it had started as a routine for him to help ease the ailments that you felt throughout your body, but as time went on, it became more and more intimate for him. In his own sort of way, Kento came to view it as him holding his child before anyone else could.

What a strange, paradox these hands were; that this man was. Hands that have trained to skillfully handle his blunt knife with deadly accuracy and precision that could deal devastating blows to curses and curse users alike; hands that have been doused in the blood of exorcised curses, and knuckles that have been bruised and corroded in combat.

To the outside world, at least.

With you, however, it was as stark as night and day.

Behind closed doors, where Kento could drop the stern and austere facade that he bared to the rest of society, he was tender. He held you with such cautious regard, even before you were pregnant.

In the moments where you both were emboldened in the bedroom, with a flurry of heated kisses and and fleeting touches that were shared between the two of you, he was always so careful with you; never once has he intentionally hurt you. It was with gentle motions and actions, so ingrained into him after having spent many years with you, that you allowed him to tuck away stray hairs behind your ears, so he could better see your face. It was with affectionate fingers that you allowed him to slide your wedding band onto the fourth digit of your left hand as you two were stood at the altar of your wedding ceremony.

Kento was a kind man. In these shared moments, you were so thankful and blessed that you allowed this man to hold your heart.

He leaned slightly forward into you, his body now covering yours somewhat, seeking out more of your warmth that your body offered him. Kento gently nudged his face forward more into the juncture of your neck, the tip of his nose slightly tickled by your stray baby hairs. Feeling the strain in his arms from holding your bump, he delicately lowered you back down, relieving the tension on him, but once again burdening you with the weight.

"Missed you today," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the spot right behind the shell of your ear.

A soft, breathy chuckle escaped from you, craning your head to meet his besotted eyes. "Missed you, too."

Four weeks later...

Your body burned and ached with a fury that you've never experienced before, sweat drenching every crevice and contour of your body. You were laid upon the hospital bed, utterly spent and deadbeat tired after having gone through a thirteen hour labor that ended in the early hours of the morning when you could hear the shrill cries of your newborn daughter after she was expelled from you.

It was a grueling process that you weren't entirely too sure if you ever wanted to put yourself through that ever again, the mental and physical aspects of it taking its toll on you as your body tried to meet the equilibrium that it had before your child was even a concept; the end result, nonetheless, was worth its weight in gold.

It had been at least three hours since the birth, the hospital staff having since departed your room, the maternity nurse doing occasional rounds to check in on you as you rested, giving you and Kento some breathing room and privacy with her; you, the opportunity to recover after having your body quite literally split open.

Through a heavy-lidded gaze, you observed your husband as he cradled the bundle of blankets that enclosed your daughter in his hold. Her microscopic hand wrapped around his extended pinky, tiny coos could be heard from where you were settled.

Kento didn't say anything to her. He didn't need to. The look of pure adoration and devotion that he held in his eyes was enough to tell you that he was absolutely smitten with her.

"Is she everything that you were hoping for, Ken?" you asked, a small smile beginning to form on your face as you watched your husband gently rock her back and forth in his arms, trying to lull her to sleep.

Kento raised his eyes from your daughter to look at you, his smile mirroring yours. "And then some, darling." He approached the bassinet that was beside your bed and gingerly placed your daughter in there as if she were made of glass, allowing her to sleep undisturbed. He then turned to you, and placed a kiss to your forehead. "You should get some rest. If she wakes up, I'll tend to her. You've got to be exhausted after all of that."

Your gaze shifted from the bassinet to meet his, concern etched into his features as he discerned your current condition. You also noticed that the bags underneath his eyes had darkened to a point where you might have considered them to be bruises instead. His hair was rather unkempt upon his head, instead of the put together side part that he normally sported. Even when he tried to hide it, he couldn't do away with the weariness.

Just as it had been for you, it, too, had been a long thirteen hours for him, as well.

"I should be telling you that," you weakly quipped. You shuffled yourself to the side of your bed, even though your body screamed in protest with every movement that you made, opening up a space beside you. "Come here," you beckoned, patting the space beside you.

He deadpanned. "I'm not getting into bed with you."

"Kento-"

"No."

"-you need to get some-"

"Absolutely not."

"'sleep, dammit-"

"I am more than capable of sleeping on the couch, and don't curse in front of our daughter."

"Kento," you exasperated, your facial expression mirroring your tone, pausing him in his rebuttal. "I will be fine. I promise you. Can you please just cuddle your worn out wife to sleep? Please?"

You could see the internal debate play out on his face as his eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't wish to hurt you, though..."

"You won't. I assure you that I can handle it."

A beat of silence passed as he stared at you, before releasing a quiet, relenting sigh, reaching down to release the bedside rail. "You will let me know the second that you start to hurt, do you understand me?"

You nodded, watching with eager anticipation as Kento gingerly climbed up beside you, trying not to rustle you around too much. He lowered himself next to you, doing his best to be as gentle as he possibly can. "Don't turn your body onto its side, just keep laying supine right now. Raise your head for me." He extended one of his arms out to you, positioning it behind your head, letting his bicep and tricep act as a support for you. "This is the most I'll allow. Anything else is off limits."

You scooted closer to him, burrowing yourself into his side, giving you a chance to embrace the warmth that his body offered him. The two of you laid together in a comfortable silence, listening to the steady hum of the machines that surrounded you, along with occasional alarm that would sound off every now and then.

"I never did say thank you, by the way."

You glanced at him, subtle confusion coloring your face. "What do you need to thank me for?"

He craned his head to look down at you, an adoring expression in his eyes as his hand enclosed around yours to bring it to the center of his chest, his thumb softly stroking the backside of your hand, along the rough ridges of your knuckles. "For continuously putting up with me and my set in ways? For allowing me to be in your life? For being my wife? For being the mother of my child? Need I go on?"

Heat flushed throughout your entire being as Kento went through his list, a bashful smile forming. "You're disgustingly romantic, I hope you know that."

"I've been told a time or two."

A knock at the door to your room interrupted the intimate moment between you two.

"Come in!" Kento called out, giving permission to whoever was outside.

Your nurse peaked their head into the room, a sheepish look on their face. "I'm sorry to disturb you guys, but someone has come to visit. I wasn't entirely too sure if you two were up to taking visitors, so I thought I would ask beforehand."

You and Kento exchanged a look, unsure of who could be visiting you so early in the morning. Also, how would anyone know where you were, given the fact that neither you or Kento have told anyone that you had gone into labor.

"Who's come to visit?" Kento prodded, his gaze quizzical as he pushed himself up off the mattress into an erect position.

"A blindfolded man named Gojo Satoru?"

"No. Absolutely not."

[oepionie]

— "AND WHILE YOU SLEEP, I'LL BE SCARED." overblot gang 

SYNOPSIS: Your lover waking up from a horrific nightmare and scrambling to listen to your heartbeat so he can make sure you're still alive.

⊹ [ cw ] — angst, hurt/comfort, overblot, blood, glass shards injury, anxiety/panic attacks, insecurities, mentions of death, crying (them)◞

⊹ [ tags ] — ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP. GN! READER | riddle tears his room apart, leona feels immense guilt, caring leona, azul having a panic attack, vil being an absolute mess, vil speaks german, shy idia, jamil injures himself accidentally, jamil calls you 'albi' (my heart), malleus immortality angst ◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.5k+◞

✩—RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

It's far past his scheduled time for sleep.

A bitter taste is bubbling up in his throat and frothing against his tongue. Riddle doesn't know what this wretched feeling is. All he knows is that he's terrified. Perhaps that's why he allows himself to disturb your sleep, the maddening emotions slamming against his head becoming too much for him to handle.

"I-I apologize for waking you," Riddle rasps, slipping into your shared bed and burrowing his face deep into the crook of your neck. His breaths come out in quick and fleeting puffs, heart thrumming hard against his ribs.

In the dimness of the night, the myriad of mangled and torn-up books that were strewn and flung about the room in a frenzied fury could hardly be seen. Your gaze flickered down to your lover. The tips of Riddle's fingers were a blistering raw red, his once well-groomed nails now visibly chipped at its ends.

With a touch of your tender hands, you pull him down to rest against your chest.

"What's wrong?"

"I–I just…I recalled the incident of my overblot and how I hit you with that blast. H-How you nearly—" Clamping his eyes tight, Riddle dared not to finish that sentence. The boy trembles in your arms—ears fervently straining to hear the steady and melodic thump of your heart, a melody he feared he would never hear again.

A choked sob tumbles from his lips and your chest aches.

"…I'm sorry," was his quiet cry. "I'm so sorry."

✩—LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Peacefully fast asleep, your back was nestled snug against the Leona's chest while his firm bicep protectively curled around your ribs.

Over the course of your relationship, Leona began to realize how much he loved having you in his arms. You were at peace when you slept, untouched and untainted by the stress and pain you dealt with every day.

He crept his free hand up your torso, cold fingers slipping underneath your shirt, skimming up your stomach, and settling above the spot on your chest where your heartbeat danced vividly against his touch. Leona splays his fingers out more, fixated on how the thrum of your life felt against his skin.

It was a daily struggle to keep his emotions at bay, ensuring that his strong feelings and magic wouldn't hurt you again. The nightmarish phantom of his blot still haunts him to this day. That wrath was an ugly and hideous beast he wished to keep locked away in the depths of his mind for all of eternity.

Yet, at the soft beat of your delicate heart against his sullied hands—Already, Leona finds himself wavering, uncharacteristically weak.

An overpowering mix of stress and strain washes over him, pooling up into watery blobs and flowing down his cheeks in faint streaks as he silently wept.

"Fuck," Leona curses, pulling your dozing form closer to him. "Fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."

✩—AZUL ASHENGROTTO:

The torment of nightmares was far worse than he remembered, but this dread he felt was unquestionably different, pressing in on him like a frigid cold. The icy sensation seeps into the marrows and dips of his flesh—his sole respite being your touch, which both warmed and scorched at his skin.

"Angelfish." Azul breathlessly sputtered, blindly patting around the bed in search of your body.

Through the fringes of his blacked out vision, he could barely make out your worried drowsy visage. This caused him to panic, pulse picking up, but you were quick to soothe him—reaching a hand out to press against his cheek. Finally finding you, the octo-mer pulled you towards his side of the bed, engulfing you in a tight hug.

Azul tried to stop the flood of tears that layered his face, but your soft lips strewn with kisses on his skin seemed to further elicit his unceasing cries. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Azul. I'm here." You whisper, cradling his face, but he was inconsolable. The octo-mer desperately clawed at your shirt as he pressed his ear deeper against your chest, practically melting into you.

The throbs of your heart echoed through his anguished mind, providing him with some semblance of comfort.

"Don't go….Please…" Azul sputters, body shaking from every deep, labored heave of his burning lungs, "Please."

✩—JAMIL VIPER:

A strangled scream awoke you from your abyssal sleep, your bleary eyes ripping open to dart here and there around the room in a manic frenzy. The ensuing shattering smash of a glass further threw your thoughts into disarray.

"Jamil?!"

Your lover had stumbled off of the bed, now kneeling against the wooden flooring with the bedsheets pooling around his hips, sheets damp from the shattered glass of water on the floor.

A bloody hand clenched at his palpitating heart, glass shards digging into his skin, as his lungs fought to maintain his breathing.

You sprang from the mattress and skidded in his direction, but Jamil scrambled away from you.

"Albi, no. There's glass. Stay away. You're going to get hurt," Jamil stammered. Holding a shaky hand up, the boy avoided your gaze.

"Jamil—" Brows pinched together, you eased towards him. "I'm not going to get hurt, don't worry."

You stepped over the shards of crystal glass with caution and made your way past, "See?"

Once you were within his reach, Jamil caved in and slowly brought you into his arms—careful with his injury. He could feel the distant sting of the cuts on his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Leaning down, he lay his head over your heart. Even though the batter of your heart was frantic and panicked, it somewhat provided a steady beat for him to follow as he worked to untangle the complexities in his thoughts. Your lover sunk against you, anchoring himself against the warmth your body radiated.

✩—IDIA SHROUD:

As the minutes pass, Idia was rapidly losing every meagre amount of confidence he managed to scrape together.

"Idia…honey? Please get up." You croon, running a hand through his flaming hair.

Though it seemed as if he didn't hear anything—Idia kept his head glued against your beating chest, refusing to get up from his position on the floor.

He's been kneeling before you for so long that the rough fabric of his pants burned and skidded against the tender skin of his knees, sending excruciating stings along the threads of his flesh.

"I—No…N-No…I can't." Idia's lips quiver, eyes glossing over as he diverts his gaze. The weight of his arms lay heavy against your legs, elbows resting by your knees while his dull nails dug into the skin at the back of your thighs.

"Why's that?" You whisper.

Idia shut his eyes. The flash of numerous dreams and nightmares he's suffered at the hands of his own demented twisted memories clouded his mind. It did not help that they were all molded out of his own self-inflicted pessimism...cruel and unforgiving. A reason as to why he couldn't bear to look at you tonight, not when the image of your mangled body was still fresh on his mind.

"I-I'm s-sor-sorry…I ca-can't get up…I need to…” he stumbles for words, his breathing picking up its pace. "I need to…need to know you're okay."

✩—VIL SCHOENHEIT:

"Vil…" You worriedly murmur, pressing your lips against his mascara-stained cheeks, not minding the bitter aftertaste it left lingering in your mouth.

Laying atop the plush silk sheets of his king-sized bed, the dorm leader's eyes were ripped wide open as his chest heaved viciously. It was quite a rare sight as your lover lay vulnerable before you, heart bared open.

Oh, he was an absolute mess.

Dark streams of teary mascara ran down Vil's cheeks, his uniform wrinkled and his golden hair splayed out everywhere—unbound from its braids and tangled up.

The grip of his arms around your midsection tightens as he pressed you up closer against him, his head resting atop your chest. At the sound of your heartbeat, Vil allowed himself to unwind and let your affections banish away even the most ominous of his thoughts.

"Liebling…Es tut mir ehrlich Leid—" Vil rasps, his mother tongue dripping like honey from his lips as he suddenly found it difficult to speak the language he was so accustomed to every day.

Hushing him, you press a fleeting kiss against his brow line and Vil clamps his red-rimmed eyes shut, ceasing to say anything more.

"Hush now. Rest, my prince." You press a gentle kiss to his temple and brush the frizzes of his blonde hair away from his face.

A small smile quirks on his lips as he feels his stomach fluttering from the nickname. The look in his eyes is softly lit, warm like a candle.

✩—MALLEUS DRACONIA:

One day, Malleus knows, you will be nothing more than wilted and withered ash.

It was a truth that wrapped around him like shackling chains—tearing, whipping and lashing against his raw, bare skin. No matter how hard he pulled, scratched, and screamed at it, the chains remained.

The clanging and grating iron truth about reality cannot be so easily pushed away. Human lives are fickle, and you would inevitably leave him.

Once you do, the fae prince knows he will be a mere shadow of his former self, a wretched and lonesome creature awaiting and longing for his lover who was no more than a ghost of his fleeting memories.

"I apologize for the disturbance, my treasure."

And yet, Malleus presses his hand firmly against your beating heart. A distant marching beat serving as his reminder that you were very much alive and well.

"I truly apologize." Malleus heaves, hands clamouring against your collarbone.

Although thick tension and silence still hung heavy in the air, the dragon basked in the warmth and feel of your flushed skin, a bitter smile gracing his lips as he lay beside you on the bed.

"Sweet dreams, beastie…"

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