#I trust you just as much as you trust me dear.

[emchante]

carlos with a breastfeeding kink is something i did not know i needed 😵‍💫 i just know it turns him on so much to be walking outside with you and suddenly your t-shirt starts getting wet…… just imagine panicking when you start lactating but its okay cause he’s there to guide you every step of the way…….. and if he can help with the excess milk then it’s all for you of course 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

WELCOME DEAR ANON.. WELCOME 🤭 trust me.. it’s not something i’ve ever written about before but it’s peaked my interest for a long time.. maybe now is time to indulge if i have some takers?? 👀

drabble below about this<3

god, he LOVES it when it happens in public, because he loves watching you all embarrassed that your body is doing things you didn’t expect it to do. carlos isn’t slick, either, often throws you a thin shirt to wear if you’re going out with him.. the thinner it is, the easier it is to leak.

and when it starts, your face is flushed and you instinctively raise your hands to your tits, covering it. carlos pulls your hands away though, tutting quietly in your ear. “cariño, you can’t do that in public. are you trying to draw the attention of other guys, huh?”

and of course not! you’d never do that when you know you’re destined to be with carlos!! so you get a little panicked and upset and oh.. carlos’ pants are tightening even more now. the sight of you so embarrassed, crying over something he is the cause of. it’s delicious, he craves it.

so he takes you into a shop, finding the bathrooms and pushing you inside as he locks the door. you don’t have time to question him, he’s already dragging your shirt over you, and you whine loudly from your sensitive nipples being teased with the t-shirt, and now being exposed to the cold air.

his hands are instantly on your fuller tits, squeezing softly as you whine in response. you tilt your head back, swallowing thickly as you revel in the feeling of carlos’ warm hands on your aching tits. you feel his thumbs run along your nipples, and your legs shake from the amount of pleasure it causes.

“i can help you princesa, you know that. you just need to ask me nicely.. so go on.”

and you’re begging. all you can say is please and carlos for the most part, sometimes able to slip in little i need you’s and that’s what wins him over. you need him, your mind is wired to think he is the only man who can help this mysterious issue, when deep down— it’s all his fault.

he coos at your pleas, beginning to squeeze your tits a little harder, thumbs teasing your nipples until they’re leaking even more, the milk falling from them as you’re left to whine and moan desperately for the release, hoping your full tits don’t start swelling again anytime soon.

but.. this is carlos. big, bad wolf carlos sainz. who’s to say he fully helps you out? because i think.. he leaves you around 3/4 if the way done. tells you that he’ll continue when you’re home, and that he’ll personally clean up all the milk when

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hello friends! It's that time of year when it's time to escape into some nice fics with a hot cup of tea or cocoa. And while, Christmas fics are traditional, I've been reading some vampire fics that I had to share. And I read a vampire book that's SO R/S I had to include it on the list. (Extra spicy).

Below you'll find a link to the first Vampire list I ever made, as well as the new recs. Hope you enjoy!

Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 1

Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 2

New Blood by @gardenoflupins Remus comes to consciousness as a new and inexperienced vampire. In his disoriented state, he leaves a bunch of dead bodies lying around, which gets the attention of a much older and more powerful vampire named Sirius who guides him through the stages of vampirism.

What Lurks in the Shadows by @puuvillaa When Remus leaves work after dark, he encounters a vampire.

all the hot singles in your area are dead by @atroposaeneas The first vampire who comes to campus is annoying. The second one is an unwelcome, if begrudgingly pleasant, surprise. The third, fourth, and fifth vampires, on the other hand… No matter. Remus has been alive far, far too long to have his resolve broken on behalf of someone like Sirius Black.

My Roommate is a Vampire by @moonyverse “Remus! Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily asks. He continues wiping, focussing on a particularly stubborn stain. “Tell you what?” “About your secret boyfriend.” Remus spins around. “My what?” “Don’t act so surprised. Your neck is covered in hickeys and you thought I wouldn’t notice?” "Er, yeah… sorry." Remus wracks his brain to think of an excuse. Anything but the truth. He sputters out a lie, "It was a one-time thing, is all." It was better than telling her his roommate is a vampire whom he lets take his blood on a biweekly basis.

I'm starving, darling. by @marigold-hills “Dear gods you are gorgeous,” the man said before Remus could utter a sound. “I’m so sorry about this. Truly. I wouldn’t, but it’s a rather desperate situation you see.” I’m going to get mugged, Remus realised. Here, under the sharp stars, in the soft snow, by the hands of the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on. And wasn’t that just his luck. “Trust me,” the man continued, “I am no more pleased about it than you are, but it’s a matter of life and death at this point, otherwise… well, sorry. Again.” Remus is accosted by a vampire on his way home. Strange in itself. But when the vampire realises he has anaemia, he starts bringing him food. And medication. And nice little treats to make him feel better. And - well. Remus never claimed to be a man of strong convictions.

A Taste of Your Love by starsnsoul “It’s dangerous out here at night,” Remus wet his lips, suddenly aware of how dry they were, “and we’re quite far from the nearest town.” The man in front of him continued to gaze up at him, eyes twinkling with a dangerous look, seeming to dare him to ask risky questions, to probe and let curiosity kill the cat. “What’s your name?” he asked, feigning ignorance to Remus’ concern. “Remus.” He answered without a second thought to who he was telling this to, something about the other man made him want to lay himself out bare, secret’s spilling out into the night air, all the good and the ugly. Something about the other man was dangerous but Remus felt the blood in his veins ignite at the thought. “Remus,” the man with eyes like the moon whispered, “I’m Sirius.”

aka. the one where Sirius is a vampire and Remus a cowboy and they fall in love {inspired by likeafuneral's art and a wip I had going on as well as my life growing up on a farm}

closer to heaven by @moonymoment “And you’re… high.” “As a kite, baby,” Sirius says, clicking his tongue. Remus inhales sharply. “High… on drugs. That kind of high.” Sirius looks at him. “Do I have to do the sarcastic bit again, or is this stare enough to indirectly call you stupid?” he asks, and then makes a Face™ at Remus that falls somewhere between “you’re ridiculous” and “you’re a knob”, although he can’t promise that “I’m morosexual and this close to taking my pants off” isn’t being conveyed as well.

BOOK REC:

Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that was SO FREAKING SIMILAR to Remus + Sirius that you're looking around fandom for the author? Check out this book with rich, hot, older vampire "Sirius" + nurse cinnamon roll "Remus". Roman by Grae Bryan 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

“And for the record…my demon does not just like you. It craves you. Is obsessed with you. Wants to own you and devour you and never let you go. You would run for the hills if you could hear what it thinks about you. What I think about you.”

Don't forget to share this list with your own recs and leave a comment for the authors. ❤️

Happy reading lovelies, The Wolfstar Librarian

[knoepfl]

A Gift Beneath the Waters

11/24

Characters

• Silco: The calculated and ambitious leader of Zaun, a man hardened by betrayal and responsibility. Beneath his stern exterior lies a rare softness reserved for someone he deeply trusts and values.

• Reader (You): Silco’s partner, someone who sees beyond his intimidating demeanor and strives to bring warmth and care into his life, even amidst the chaos of Zaun.

Trigger Warnings

• Themes of power and control: Silco’s characterization includes his struggles with trust and vulnerability.

• Melancholy atmosphere: The narrative carries a subtle undercurrent of Silco’s burdens and the harsh realities of Zaun.

Masterlist

Words: 768

--- The underground city of Zaun shimmered faintly under the glow of chem-lights and softly glowing trinkets hastily strung along the edges of dilapidated buildings. The air was thick with the usual tang of chemicals, but there was a strange warmth in the atmosphere—a warmth that had nothing to do with the city’s harsh environment.

Christmas.

You weren’t sure how much Silco cared for such traditions. He was a man of ambition and strategy, and he rarely allowed sentimentality to cloud his thoughts. But tonight, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. After all, you had gone to great lengths to prepare something for him, a small token to show him that, despite the weight of his responsibilities, he wasn’t alone.

Clutching the carefully wrapped box in your hands, you made your way through the winding corridors of his base. The guards let you pass without question, their stoic faces softening slightly at the sight of you. Silco had made it clear to everyone that you were someone he valued—a rarity in his life.

Pushing open the heavy doors to his office, you found him seated at his desk, a cigar smoldering between his fingers as he reviewed a stack of documents. The faint light from the large window behind him cast an ethereal glow around his silhouette, highlighting the scar that marked his face.

“Busy as ever, I see,” you teased, stepping into the room.

Silco glanced up, his mismatched eyes softening when they met yours. “And what brings you here, my dear?” he asked, his voice smooth, though a hint of curiosity laced his tone.

You held up the box, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I come bearing gifts.”

He arched an eyebrow, setting his cigar in an ashtray. “A gift? For me?”

“Well, you are the man who runs all of Zaun,” you said, walking closer. “You deserve something special.”

Placing the box on the desk in front of him, you stepped back, your hands clasped nervously behind your back. Silco eyed the package with a mix of intrigue and amusement before carefully peeling back the wrapping.

Inside was a sleek, silver pocketknife, its blade engraved with intricate patterns that resembled the flow of water. The handle was smooth and dark, etched with the unmistakable shimmer of hextech.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, picking it up and examining it under the light.

“There’s more,” you said softly, gesturing for him to look closer.

He turned the knife over and saw the inscription on the blade: ‘For the man who fights the tides and rises above.’

Silco’s lips parted slightly, his fingers brushing over the words. For a man who had built his life on strength and control, there was a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, a momentary crack in his armor.

“I thought…” you began, your voice faltering slightly. “I thought you could use something personal. Something just for you.”

He set the knife down and rose from his chair, his sharp eyes locking onto yours. “You went through all this trouble for me?”

“Of course,” you replied, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “You do so much for everyone else, Silco. You deserve something to remind you of how extraordinary you are.”

A slow, genuine smile curved his lips—a rare sight, reserved only for you. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek.

“You continue to surprise me,” he said, his voice low and filled with a depth that made your heart flutter. “In a world filled with betrayal and greed, you bring… light.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Don’t go soft on me now, Silco. It’s just a knife.”

“It’s more than that,” he replied, his thumb brushing against your skin. “It’s a reminder that I am not alone. That I have you.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled over you, heavy with meaning. You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

“You’ll always have me,” you whispered.

For a moment, the chaos of Zaun faded into the background. Silco leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, then another to your lips—a kiss that spoke of trust, admiration, and something deeper, something he rarely allowed himself to feel.

“Merry Christmas,” you murmured against his lips.

“Merry Christmas,” he echoed, his voice a quiet promise.

The night passed in a rare stillness, the two of you wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. And though the city outside churned on in its endless struggle, here, in the glow of his office, Silco allowed himself to feel something he rarely did: peace. ---

[morganas-pendragons]

My Word (Of The Lady of Eregion) | Celebrimbor

Post episode 5. Celebrimbor is beginning to come apart at the seams, and you are not having it.

tag: @thesolarangel @erebusbabylon @sailon-ishmael @ladyoflindon @pentaghasm @thatlittlered

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! I’m hoping to write some more tomorrow!

***

You know something is wrong when Celebrimbor comes into the chamber you’ve taken rest in, expression contorted by fear and hands trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

“Celebrimbor?” Your voice draws him out of his panic, but you cannot help exiting the bed to settle by his side and cradle his hands in your own, pressing your lips to his knuckles. “What has happened?”

He has been swathed in darkness since the arrival. The Harbinger never ceases. It torments him, He torments him, in every moment.

Celebrimbor can only find safety with you. With you, it is quiet.

With you, there is no torment.

He is so tempted not to tell you. To spare you a glimpse into his fracturing mind, to simply indulge his selfish desires of hiding from the responsibility that Annatar has placed upon him.

Part of you wanted this, remember?

“Celebrimbor,” You repeat. He takes that moment to properly look at you: You are wearing a shift that is nearly sheer and sits nicely on your shoulders, hair loose around your face and far too much skin for him to ache to touch. Celebrimbor dares not to allow his thoughts to wander. He may be selfish, but what just happened in the forge must not be swept under the rug. “You did not make me your Lady unofficially without giving thought to the depths of the trust between yourself and I. Do not keep from me. What is wrong?”

It has been a long time since he has felt that helpless.

“Annatar wishes to make more rings.” Celebrimbor’s breathing gradually slows as he watches you separate each of his fingers, pressing a kiss to his fingertips while never daring to tear your eyes from his. You have been utilizing touch for quite some time now, but it has a completely different hold on Celebrimbor now. It is grounding. It clears the haze that has taken hold over his mind. “I refused.”

“I am failing to understand what has warranted such a reaction then.”

“He is to make them anyway. Rings for Men, as they were most susceptible to Morgoth’s influence.”

Your fingers absently trail across his jawline, eyes softening as Celebrimbor leans into the warmth of your palm. “That is absurd,” You snap sharply, not at him, but at the situation and the gall Annatar has to even attempt such a thing. “He cannot perform such an act without you. You are the Ringmaker.”

“Even the Ringmaker does not have the final say when the Valar are involved.” He says. Celebrimbor sighs and pulls you closer to him, practically pressed against every edge and crevice of his body so you cannot be pried away, so you are in every part of him.

You are tempted to continue to argue, to convince him of the truth that seems so clear to you but so muddled to the others who have been brought under Annatar’s influence.

“Come, my love.” You say softly. You try to hide the concern in your voice as you smooth your hands over his shoulders. “Let us be rid of these.”

Celebrimbor dipped his head and lifted his arms to allow you to remove his apron and robes. Once he was dressed in his night attire, he lifted his head high enough to find your face inches away from his own, bright eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the bedroom as they shift down to his lips.

He crosses the distance first. Kissing you is like breathing the air that his lungs have been so deprived of, inhaling that sweet, comforting feeling of safety and love that dwells within the very heart of you.

“My dear, you bring me such peace.” Celebrimbor says softly. You open your mouth to reply and find yourself distracted by the rustle of footsteps outside the door. Light, barely perceptible, but undoubtedly belonging to one of the remaining smiths returning to the forge. “I believe it is time for me to retire. Will you join me?”

Something heavy settles in your stomach as your eyes shift back to the hallway. “I must take care of something first,” You murmur softly. “Settle into the bed. I will join you once the hour of the Wolf has fallen.”

“Wait,” His fingers wrap around your wrist as you grasp your robes in the other hand. “Do you remember the promise I made to you?”

“That you would always remain. Never to leave, never to be taken away. That I would be taken care of.”

Celebrimbor’s eyes gleam in the moonlight as he nods. Something settles between the two of you, like a weight that threatens to widen the gap that has been created by Annatar’s arrival. It scares you. You should be coming together, not further apart.

“I will do everything in my power to keep it,” Celebrimbor says. “Hurry back. I will be waiting.”

You are out the door before he can say anything else. You cannot bear to look at him again, not with the unease settling into your stomach as you soundlessly head down the hall toward its source.

***

After calming Celebrimbor within your chambers, you stride out the main door toward the forge where you know Annatar to be. The Lord of Gifts is in conversation with Mirdania. Your dearest friend, clever as she is, is also incredibly impressionable. You refuse to let her be influenced by the likes of the snake who dwells within the nest.

“Mirdania.”

Mirdania is also one of the few elves who is aware that Celebrimbor intends to propose to you, to officially give you the title of Lady of Eregion. Celebrimbor has bestowed this title upon you himself, but the marriage between you and the Greatest of the Elven Smiths would solidify this arrangement.

“My Lady!” She exclaims. The younger elleth jumps away from Annatar as if he has burned her, cheeks tinging pink as she crosses the forge to meet you. “My apologies. I did not notice the hour.”

Your eyes slowly shift behind her to Annatar. “You are free to return to your home for the evening, dear friend. Be at peace.” Mirdania bows lowly in reply and scurries out of the forge, leaving you alone with Annatar. Despite the heat that radiates from the fires within, you cannot help but feel the bone-deep chill that resides within. “For the time you require of him before and after the hour of the Wolf, Lord Celebrimbor will be otherwise indisposed.”

“And why is it you delivering this information?”

“As is the role that was bestowed on me, I deliver Lord Celebrimbor’s correspondence and see to matters of the city,” You reply. You still will not grant him the satisfaction of being under his spell, of meeting his eyes and granting him basic respect. “Which is what you are.”

If anything, Annatar is quite impressed at how you seem to exude a confidence and defiance against all he has done to warp the reality around him. To turn Celebrimbor and the elves against one another. To make them distrust their Lord.

You are the only one not affected.

“And under the authority of whom do you speak?”

Cold, unyielding grey eyes meet his as you turn around to acknowledge him. “By the word of The Lady of Eregion, my Lord,” You say sharply. “My word holds as much claim as his does. And as that is so, may I also dismiss you for the eve, as the hour is late and the rings are of no importance as of right now. Goodnight.”

Your robes sweep against the floor as you turn to depart and return to where you left Celebrimbor. Your heart lays fast asleep in a bed that is not his own, breathing deep and dreams peaceful as you climb in behind him and press your face into his hair.

Celebrimbor has never broken a promise to you since you arrived in Eregion.

You do not believe he will start now.

[fizzie-frog]

Blitzø: core self, trauma and healing (part two)

This is a continuation of my previous post. Thanks to Tumblr limitations, I had to split it into different parts (trust me, I wish I could've made it just one big post).

PART ONE

This might be long...

He tried to waddle through the trauma of existing as someone as self-loathing as himself.

He denied;

“I didn’t do anything, it was an accident!”

He isolated;

He minimized, often with humour;

“Uh-oh, looks like it sucked all the fun outta you!”

He avoided being vulnerable;

“I DID CARE!”

And felt awkward/uncomfortable when he did end up spilling out his emotions;

“Weeeeeeeell, fuck you!”

Suppressed his emotions;

… Cause they’re blinding and suffocating, and it’s easier to avoid them.

He hated himself and didn’t believe there is anything good about him, despite having changed lives for the better;

And he dipped if he got too close (everything literally burnt down when he tried getting closer, didn’t it);

He often didn’t believe others would hold any endearment for him, even taking it as a joke;

“I destroy everything, everyo— I make everyone’s lives worse!”

And that’s it, really. He believes he’s a pest, a virus, something that can only do harm. While his core self still showed itself from time to time, he was blinded with the trauma of all his wrongdoings. All the people he’s hurt and that, in a self-fulfilling prophecy, made him hurt even more.

Everything he couldn’t look straight in the eye. The death of his mother, caused by him. The hurt of his friend, caused by him. The hurt he’s caused around himself. He couldn’t bear see it, knowing it would break him down. That’s why he avoided it. Thinking about what happened, what he did is suffocating. But that also blinded him from seeing his good deeds too. As usual, we’re more likely to see the negative over the positive.

Blitz picked himself up by the bootstraps as they say, but it didn’t help him, not within himself. So what did help?

I think it started in Oops…

He didn’t wanna be vulnerable, but after so much hurt and things left unsaid, it spilled. It all spilled out and made him into a crying mess right in front of Fizz, cause as much as he tried to act unbothered, he did care (as he said in the episode). He was vulnerable, he explained to Fizz exactly what happened instead of holding it in anymore, he apologized to Fizz. They both learnt what happened.

And the kicker? It paid off! Blitz was finally vulnerable to someone, his former best friend, and Fizz forgave him. He got his dear friend back for this. Not only did he win someone he loves back, but also this came as a punch to those unhealthy beliefs, cause he was vulnerable and it didn’t turn out bad.

We have Ghostfuckers.

After being plagued by his memories, Millie came to his aid. She not only reminded him of a time he actually changed her life for the better, but also confirmed that he indeed cares for Blitz.

Then the moment of truth…

Can’t get anymore raw than the moment when his death was imminent. It’s often in times like this that we people’s raw emotions.

In a moment when even Loona was tearing up at the thought of losing Blitz. When all his friends were already mourning him, crying for him as he was about to lose his life.

And in that moment, when he was sure he was gonna die, he could finally say it…

“I love you, guys”

There was nothing to be lost. He was gonna die and the last thing he knew was that his friends were crying for him, but were safe. He could die happy.

Of course though, he didn’t, as we know. Once he was outside the court room, he was pulled in a sobbing hug by his friends and daughter that were relieved he was okay. Even further proof of being loved. Despite the horrible circumstances, it must be so healing to his heart to have that.

True, unfiltered confirmation of being loved. He is loved. The possibility of someone you love dying shakes you. Loona realized it wasn’t worth pretending anymore - life is so short, especially for low class hellborns.

And probably so did Blitz. He was finally in a happy place. His daughter loved him, his friends loved him. Stolas loved him.

He is loved.

So in the Sinsmas episode, we started seeing so much more of who he once was.

He was goofy,

Attentive,

Listening,

Supportive,

Cheerful,

Encouraging,

Patient,

He looked at potential future,

He was selfless,

Protective,

Kind,

Even romantic.

And he was happy…

That’s not to say he’s completely healed. I think you can never truly heal from something like this, especially the magnitude of what Blitz went through in his life, and his issues can resurface.

But at this point in time, he’s finally in a happy place. He was affirmed, comforted and reassured. He’s content, and that’s the most healed he can be.

His core self is finally seeing the light of day. He is more himself than he’s ever been since that day.

So that was it. I’m sorry if I was a bit messy some places; as mentioned, life is kind of a struggle. Sometimes I feel like my brain is deteriorating or something, lmao, but I wanted to put this together cause I feel like Blitz has such a good, painfully relatable (to me anyway) arc and he’s such a complex character.

My love for Fizz remains the biggest, but I couldn’t deny the love I have for Blitz. He’s just such a good character with such good development. Selfish yet selfless, careful yet careless… So many dimensions.

If you made it this far, thank you! <3

[weeping-statue]

that Alva fic was so amazing ahh I loved it :(( could I request one of him comforting platonic reader from a panic/anxiety attack?

Ofc anon! And thank you so much<3

“Just breathe.”

Contains; Panic attacks; comfort;

It’s too loud. There’s to many eyes. There’s so many things to do, and so little time. Where do you start? And when does it end? Is there an end? Questions upon questions, and no answers. To many people are trying to talk to you, the room feels distorted, and the air feels heavy. Really heavy. You need to get out of there.

The annual Christmas week celebration had started!

Everyone was invited to have fun setting up Christmas decorations.

Except, you weren’t having fun.

It was way too loud, and crowed.

The one person you were somewhat familiar with was talking to others and having the time of his life.

You couldn’t ruin it for him.

It felt awkward standing by just watching people who in turn, looked at you, and then started laughing.

Now it was humiliating. You felt the anxiety welling up and it became harder to breathe.

Rushing out of the room and down the hall into an empty storage space, you collapsed on your knees.

Fingers digging into the tiles and the skin of your neck.

Panic settling in when your realized the struggle for air.

Coughing and sputtering when the tears decided to start as well.

Alva had been mid conversation, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on you. He had seen how uncomfortable you looked and was planning to head over to you once his talk was over.

But you ran away before could, and Alva had understood why.

He quietly excused himself, walking out the door and looking for where you went.

It wasn’t too hard to find your location, seeing as the only door in the hall was cracked open and there were noises coming from it.

And he could tell by the sounds that his suspicions were confirmed.

Alva slipped into the room and immediately scooped you up in to his arms.

“Shh, it’s okay my dear. Just relax, you’re safe.”he whispered, while rubbing soothing circles on your back.

At this point the tears have subsided and all that was left was the hyperventilating. It always hurt, physically and mentally. It felt scary too.

“Deep breathes, ___. In and out slowly. If you don’t control it you’ll pass out.” The instructions flowed smoothly from Alva, seeing as he himself has probably gone through this too.

Trying to take those deep breaths was hard, somewhat hiccuping and reverting back to the quick breathing you were doing before.

“I can’t breathe, It- It hurts..” panicked and tired, tears coming back ever so slightly, gripped onto his shoulders trying to ground yourself.

“You are breathing. Just not properly. Come on, with me-” he places a firm hand on your chest to apply pressure, and starts doing the deep breathing with you. Letting you follow along.

In and out, just like you’ve done multiple times before, and just like you will again.

It’s embarrassing having to be reduced to this state. Having to let your best friend see you like this. But you were too tired to care, because once your breathing was regulated, you slumped against him. Eye lids heavy as apology’s slipped through your mouth.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry. Close your eyes now. I’ll take you back to your room.” He promises, lifting you up into his one arm while the other holds his staff that he dropped earlier.

Alva always makes good on his word, he’s never lied, and never will. That’s why most people trust him. So you believe him fully when he says that, and you lean into him, letting sleep find you.

Sorry it took decades for me to get this out! I'm not too happy with this one either, but Ily you all, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

[dr-albert-g-krueger]

My amount doesn’t matter currently :)

Though I do wonder, why go through so much?

I only want to see my d̷e̷a̸r̵ ̸f̷r̵i̷e̸n̶d̸

D̵o̷ ̶y̶o̸u̷ ̴n̸o̴t̸ ̸t̵r̷u̴s̶t̶ ̵m̷e̵?̷

-‘Cesar Torres’

(Ooc:

Just in case for glitch text:

‘Dear friend’

‘Do you not trust me?’)

* sighs * Not quite in the mood for playing, are we?

I had nothing particularly exciting to do. So doing some work upfront while participating in a little challenge was intruiging.

A̶̢͑̽̾͜n̴̫͉̄d̶̰̆̃͝ ̸̮̠͕̇p̴̨̥̬̊l̷̳̈̀͛e̴̜̘̲͐a̸͉͗s̴̨̖̈e̵͔̰͚̊̋,̴̰͑͊̾ á̴̩̽r̵̛̞̀͘ę̶́̐͜ ̸̟̠̎͘͠ ỹ̶̡̯̖́̑o̵̟̽u̵̝̒̈ ̵̦͈̀t̶͔͛͛͝ŗ̸̮͙͆̀ÿ̷̱ͅȉ̸̠̅̆n̴̳̚ĝ̸͔̥͕͗ ̷̜̹̐̑͜ţ̷̢͔̌o̶̧̺̖̾̐ ̸̫͕̯̌̈́t̶̘̏h̷̯̗̫͠ȓ̴͍͙̦̉̉ë̶͔́̏a̴͎͇̾͑t̴͎̽̒͋é̶̫̺͊̉n̶̪͆ ̶͕͗͌̽m̷̥̦͎͆̍͊ě̶̘?̶̣̬̄̓

I think you do know very well where your friend is.

[tirednapentity]

I see you, canon scene where nya comforts Cole after he turns into a ghost and I raise you nya helping Cole get comfortable around water again when he turns human

[tackykachowch]

What's so funny about Jinx smelling Vander's jacket to me is not even that it's inconsistent with the story at this point (i. e. Vander is alive so there is no reason for her to smell his jacket, plus she didn't have a close relationship with him anyway), but because we already had a coat for her to interact with that was established IN SEASON 1 FINALE. SHE TOOK SILCO'S COAT OFF OF HIM. WHERE DID IT GO????? And most importantly why Jinx doesn't care about it at all despite her still coming to his office to "talk" with him? Like. You would think that Jinx, who still keeps keepsakes of her lost loved ones, would take some of Silco's things to remind her of him, but nah. We need a stupid thing with Vander and Silco's jackets where she doesn't even properly interact with the right one.

[moe-broey]

GOD I would HATE to be stuck at a family dinner with them 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I would NOT fucking survive, the vibes alone would do 1000 points poison damage to me 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Also JUST. JUST.

THE VIBES. ARE RANCID. SHARENA DARLING YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER THAN THIS (ALFPNSE TOO BUT DEAR LORD. Sharena LITERALLY was just told to Don't Speak Unless Spoken To RANCID. RANCID FUCKING FAMILY)

[rubiatinctorum]

the whole cultural idiot thing is part of why i find a lot of too-online musicals discourse absurd. the wise and brilliant critic is aware that dear evan hansen's evan hansen isn't very niceys, and the founding fathers weren't very niceys, and mr hyde and the opera ghost and sweeney todd aren't very niceys. but the critic also believes that the rest of the audience is a) fucking stupid. and b) so liable to be so mesmerized by the little songs and dances that they will leave the production believing that evan hansen was a hero and alexander hamilton in real life was a hero and erik poto was a hero. at some point we must recognise the other members of the audience were both not born yesterday and are here for an interesting experience, and yes, a crafted story, same as the critic thinks themselves to be, and they will not all pour out onto the streets to do great interpersonal violence because they saw a man on the stage do so.

and it's just like. funny to me. on some level. because as much as it boils my carrots to see bad takes about musicals i enjoy posturing as genuine analytical essay material rather than a scandalized reading of a summary (say essay and i WILL be checking for your thesis statement, your point evidence explanation, etc), it also doesn't escape me that the cognitohazard production that people are saying should not be allowed to exist because of the harm it is perpetuating is also the progenitor of such dangerous lines as "i'm sending pictures of the most amazing trees." PLEASE be real for a minute.

[quietwingsinthesky]

s10 AU with jack just so that we can add another guy to this polycule situation going on. the doctor’s late wife river, his robot husband nardole, his evil imprisoned wife missy, and his boytoy jack harkness.

[vulpinesaint]

mkay not to be like. a little insane or anything. but god i've been going crazy over religion (catholicism) and blood lately. did anyone else drink blood as worship every week since they were seven. was anyone else inundated with images of open wounds as holy. is anyone else consumed by the thought of holding onto a crucifix tightly enough for the edges of it to draw blood. i turned in a poem about drowning in communion wine in an empty church while bleeding from crucifix-inflicted hand wounds and trying to talk to god and my creative writing professor gave me extremely normal critiques i feel like i'm losing my mind

[welcometoteyvat]

waterborne poetry you will always be famous

[spaceratprodigy]

next week on friday I'll post the full lil faith and max mm au illustration :]

[woe-is-corvus]

i love playing icarus its great