#Oh yeah yeah heart diseases whatever yeah probably

[echoesofadream]

i dont trust any big scale production of animal products but i think free range organic eggs is the best i can do cause i dont know anyone with hens that can sell me eggs on a regular basis. That would be good though if i could get in contact with a small hen farm. Also are eggs bad for you im only doing this if its good for my body nothing else

[pendarling]

Curly & Dark

Hero lightly brushed their fingers against the tight curls and looked at their reflection.

"Oh, didn't you know? Villain likes looser and longer hair so..."

They were in shambles, and they hated to admit it. They didn't like their enemy, no, only offended that anyone could assume that at all. Especially their friend; why did they say that? Nothing was wrong with their curls, at least nothing they could think of. Who cares if Villain likes lighter skin and eyes?

That had nothing to do with them, and who told their friend what Villain preferred? They could be lying. Villain always lied.

Not to them, of course, or at least Hero hoped so. Villain was very careful with their words when they whispered sweet poems in their ear when they got too close for comfort in their hand-to-hand combats. Villain's eyes didn't lie when they stared longingly back at Hero; their body gave away their feelings. Hero knew it all too well and was confident that Villain couldn't care less about their dumb curls or their skin.

It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. It's a stupid claim, but it still hurts.

Hero's breathing quickened as they frowned deeply at themselves through the mirror with fingers caught up in the strands of hair and oh...

Hero thought, 'What a strange appearance. None of my peers look the way I do.' They huffed and walked slowly out of the bathroom, 'That should be a good thing. I stand out.'

It didn't feel good, however. Their head replayed the scene from earlier again.

Hero stood in front of their friend, and their friend smiled at them when they said it, trying to let them know kindly of the situation. They cared and didn't want Hero's heart to be broken when it would be revealed that Villain was just bullying them afterall.

"They have bad intentions; we all know Villain doesn't like curly hair, so it doesn't make sense... you're suit... yeah, that's probably why they said all that. If you wore something else, it would've been different."

Hero's suit now lay on their bed; they've worn it for years and never thought it played a part in their world. Was it too revealing? Inappropriate? Hero liked it; it was created to accommodate Hero's powers. They didn't think of it as anything else, but assuming it was attracting the wrong kind of attention, Hero was willing to wear something new.

They couldn't stop thinking all night after earlier. The next time they saw Villain, they should start ignoring them. Whatever Villain was up to was too cruel. If they hated someone that looked like them, then they should stop interacting completely.

At least that's what they told themselves to do, but still, Hero found themselves taking up another job that would require them to see Villain again.

They sat waiting on the ledge of their usual meeting spot on the roof of a building far from home. Any second now, they'd hear Villain's voice call their name with a ring in it that made their heart skip.

"There you are."

Hero sat up straighter and turned around. "Hi." Hero shyly spoke. It was less confident than they anticipated. Their hands immediately went to touch their hair again; the messy thing always got in the way, and they had taken the time to flat-iron it that morning before showing up. They couldn't remember the last time they straightened their hair; it's been a while, and they accidentally burned their ear with the hot rod in their haste to get it done as quickly as possible as if the curls were a disease.

"You look different," Villain noted, widely smiling as they set their gaze on them.

They swallowed their nervousness and stood up. "Uhm.. yeah, thought I could use a change."

"Looks good."

Hero wanted to ask if it was true. Still, something forced their tongue down even when silence fell into their conversation, where they'd usually idly chat for a good few more minutes before getting into their usual spar.

Villain's hand reached for their belt and pulled out the hilt of their sword. "May I have this dance?" They stepped closer and aimed at them, waiting for a response.

"Try to keep up this time." Hero's hand glowed a shallow colour, just enough to get them riled up.

They fought bravely as usual, each blow heavier than the last, quicker and matching Villain's attacks.

Their smile persisted throughout the entire duration. Hero dodged Villain's sword and slashed at the air with a sharp flick of their wrist. A thin line of energy burst from their hands, and the Villain deflected it with their sword.

Hero took another step back, catching the blade with their hand and twisting it away from their body, unaware that they'd run out of places to move as they felt their back pressed against a wall.

"So quick to lose," Villain smirked as they panted hard from their chest and out. Hero could feel their body buzzing with excitement; although some doubts still lingered, it was all irrelevant at this moment. "Or did you want me to corner you like this?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Hero breathed heavily, all too happy for their liking. They could feel the heat on their face, hotter than it was supposed to be after hardly fighting.

When Villain stepped closer, Hero felt their smile falter a bit. An unreasonable fear consumed their head as they repressed the feeling of touching their hair again. "Ever wonder," Villain began, "What it would be like outside the mask?" Their head tilted slightly with that same crooked smile they'd grown so used to.

"No..." Hero whispered, "There's nothing interesting."

Villain laughed lightly, "Not even yourself?" They leaned down closer, their fingers tapping at the hilt of their sword while Hero's sweating palms rubbed the rough brick behind them, memorizing every crevice.

"Not even myself." Their eyes flickered downward, then back up again, "And you?"

"I have lots to offer." They casually answered.

Hero rolled their eyes, "Sure you do."

They heard them huff and mock a shocked expression. "You're questioning me?" Villain placed a hand on their chest. "I have what you could only dream of-- what you couldn't comprehend."

"Like what?" Hero pressed.

The criminal shrugged and crossed their arms, "Nice try, but I'm selective about who I choose to tell."

'Selective.' Hero reiterated in their head and licked their lips; the feeling that tormented them the other night returned. Itching up their throat and successfully stopping Hero from pursuing the conversation any further.

"You're awfully quiet," Villain remarked and moved back from them slowly, their eyes analyzing the way Hero stood almost slumped up against the wall. "Usually, you're so much more hot-headed."

"You like hot-headed?" Hero quickly snapped. It came out more disgruntled than they wanted. Hero didn't know what overcame them; what was supposed to be a good sensation had burned into a simmering hatred for this strange relationship they had. Hero took a deep breath, their brows furrowed as they stared at their shoes and tried to stop themselves before it was too late.

"Relax." Villain's voice cut through their head. "I just wanted you to know that you're acting out of character."

Hero didn't even bother this time and felt their hands grasping at the air before they could understand. Each fist went flying at Villain, aiming to hit as hard as possible.

Villain played defence, avoiding each one of their punches with swift movements and slight turns. "What's the matter, Hero? I think you've gotten--"

"Shut up!" Their first, burning a bright array of white and yellow, shoved into the metal frame of a nearby door; the ground cracked beneath them upon impact, and Villain stumbled as they went behind Hero with that same obnoxious laughter.

Villain's brows raised, impressed as they whistled at the scene, "Careful, that could break your hand."

"I said stop talking to me!" Hero went to hit them again, throwing enough of their energy to tear Villain's sword away from their hands when they went to deflect again.

Hero never got Villain's weapon away from them before. It surprised them how much they could do, and the surprise made them nearly trip if Villain hadn't caught them just in time. Their powers faded slowly as Hero's emotions dropped back down again. Something about being held so closely has thrown them out of focus.

"I said be careful didn't I?" They softly uttered. Hero's heartbeat fell back into its strange rhythm as usual, a different kind of beat that played a romantic song in their head and repeated itself for weeks. It was then that they grew keenly aware where Villain's hand were placed, so neatly on each side of their waist and so gentle with them. Hero's eyes blinked with confusion until they buried their head into Villain's chest.

"Sorry." They muffled the apology, still holding tears back.

"It's okay." Villain's hands grasped at their suit, slightly tugging at its edges.

They shook their head, "No, it's not." Their lips trembled, and a few drops of tears escaped them as their mind muddled in the confusion of being torn between truth and agonizing desperation. They couldn't stop themselves from saying what they hoped they could hide, "Do you like curly?" Hero heard themselves whisper, wishing they had more control over what they said when Villain didn't respond right away.

Villain's fingers paused. "What? Your hair?"

Hero could only nod, too afraid that the next time they spoke, they would start sobbing uncontrollably.

"I like curly." They murmured. "I like curly... and I like dark." Villain moved one hand to their back, rotating up and down. "Is that what's bothering you?"

Hero sniffled, feeling silly more than ever. "It isn't just teasing then." They said, more to themselves than to their enemy. They smiled under them, their knuckles still stung from the last hit, but that was behind Hero now.

They briefly stood in silence until Villain questioned them again. "Who told you I didn't like it?"

Hero cleared their throat. "A friend."

"Friend?" They stretched the word, sounding more startled as Villain worked through a list of names they'd seen Hero with before. "Which one?"

"The one with blond hair." They answered slowly.

"Hero." They called.

They lifted their head, eyes still foggy. "Yeah?"

"Do me a favour," Villain's thumb came to wipe their tear, "and don't listen to them."

~~~

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[ultimatesmalltownnerd]

Been thinking about what it would look like if Makoto got the Despair Disease, because it’s literally the perfect angst machine.

Like, yeah there’s the obvious “OH NO!! THE ULTIMATE HOPE IS INFECTED WITH DESPAIR” or whatever, but I really love toying with how much of a 180 his personality might take when he’s sick.

My personal headcanon is that his stress level escalates, and he loses the filter between his brain and mouth, and he starts saying the unhinged rude shit that pops into his head, to his classmates’ faces. But like, in really vicious ways.

Because what sets Makoto apart from his classmates isn’t the lack of despair he feels, or that he is just inherently pure of heart, without a single bad bone in his body- he does feel despair, and he can be pretty mean at times. It’s the fact that he can shove all that aside long enough to pull him and his classmates through their hardships. He’s not perfect, but the love and compassion he holds for the people around him, is stronger than his negativity. He essentially became a life-line for his classmates, whether he really meant to or not.

So like… if you kinda stripped away his ability to control himself, everything would probably fall apart much quicker, and in more devastating ways.

And my evil little angst-loving brain eats that shit up 😋

[heartfullofleeches]

can we get more Fratbro!Darling interaction with creep!yan? it was amazing

They don't belong here.

Why did they even come.

The ice in their cup has melted from the heat of their skin, but the punch's still too strong to drink. With how shakey their hands are, they'd likely spill it if they tried. People are watching them now - probably wondering who let the freak in. They've been in this situation before. Invited to places because it'd be too awkward to invite everyone in the group but them while most of them pray they'll just stay home. Maybe they should have. The whispers are starting again and they're getting closer. Here it comes-

"Oh, hey! There you are! I've been looking for you since I heard you were here. You got a minute?"

Someone pulls them from the obscurity of the crowd - dragging them into the spotlight on wobbly legs. A strong arm holds them steady as the uncomfortable gaze of their peers swallows them, a gentle squeeze to their bicep negating their rising fears.

"This is the person I was telling you guys about - the one that drew that picture you saw on my lockscreen. I'm telling you, Mickey has crazy talent. I'm glad so we met at that gas station a few weeks back... Would you believe they live right across the street?"

It's pretty obvious that nobody really cares, but enthusiasm is an infectious disease. They do their best to answer half-hearted questions and try even harder to smile. It's hard to fake emotions when your attention is elsewhere. Mickey stares at you, arm still locked around their shoulder, like the beacon of light you are. How did you manage to be so different? When you first met they thought you were just another fake. Someone who pretended to be their friend for whatever benefit it gave. You cared. You tried to get them to be more social and showed up at their apartment when they'd be absent for days. You showed genuine interest in their quirky little hobbies and always laughed with them instead of at them. You even wore the crow skull necklace they made for you. It's like you were already dating.

Your grin falters as you look over at your friend, the clacking of their teeth and goosebumps on their skin catching your attention. "Hey, Mick... Everything okay? You're shaking."

Mickey hides their face in the collar of their jacket. "Yeah.... fine. Don't worry about me."

They jump as your palm touches their forehead.

"Nah, dude - you're like really sweaty. I'll walk you home in the morning, but you should lie down for now."

Mickey starts to protest, but as you weave through the crowd, heading for the stairs - their lips are sealed. They always forget you live with this meatheads despite standing beneath your bedroom window every night. Where you taking then to your room? They can feel stares on them even now, but they feel almost... jealous. Mickey likes that feeling. They squeeze your hand tighter - heart stopping as you approach the door with your name taped to it.

Opening the door just a crack, you make sure no one is inside before leading Mickey in. You take their cup as you guide them to the bed. Your bed. They giggle to themselves as you walk away with their cup, pouring its contents down the sink in the bathroom and filling it with fresh water from the tap. You really were the kindest person they've ever met on campus - like any good spouse would be.

"How much did they give you to drink?.... Just drink this water and relax. Remote's in the bottom drawer if you get bored. I'll be back to check on you in a bit. Don't worry about falling asleep I'll just sleep on the floor or the couch."

Mickey blushes as your fingers graze theirs as you past them the cup, and the image of the two of you cuddled up in your bed. They take a few tiny sips before setting the cup on the table.

"T... thank you... I wouldn't mind if you slept with me. It's your bed afterall."

"True, but I wouldn't want you to be comfortable. Relax, we'll talk about it more when I come check on you. Be back in a few!"

Mickey watches as the door closes behind you. They wait for your steps to fade down the stairs, finger on their zipper as they disappear. Mickey unzips and throws off their jacket like it was restricting their air flow. They drop it to the floor along with their shoes as they crawl beneath your blankets - planting their head face deep in your pillows and sheets. They smell just like the conditioner you use. Mickey makes a mental note to raid your bathroom, but there's so much they want to do in such little time.

Your dirty clothes. Your closest. Your dressers. So many places - so little time. What should they do? What should they do- Steal the fragrances you wear so their room always smells like you? Take your toothbrush or a water bottle you've drank from for their first indirect kiss? Steal a shirt or maybe even your underwear to.... now's not the time for that, Mickey - your window of opportunity is getting shorted with every breath.

Mind racing, Mickey decides the best thing to do now is to claim their new territory. Mark your room as theirs just as their entire apartment has been overtaken by pictures of you and the things you've thrown out. They fish through their jeans for their keys - picking the hidden knife discreetly disguised as a key. Having overprotective parents had its perks - such as items of self defense they'd otherwise be put on a list for buying themselves.

They climb out of bed, crouching to the floor. The gap beneath your bed has just enough room for them to wiggle into. Compared to lockers they'd been shoved into it was like a luxury apartment. They lay flat on their back, dragging themselves below the bedframe - knife in hand. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, their hands search for the boards supporting your mattress and drives their knife into the first place plank their nails catch on - drawing the curve of a heart into the wood. Light bleeds into the room as they complete the second arch and angle their blades for the first letter of their initials, followed by startled gasps and halted flirts at the odd sight of feet beneath your bed.

"Is this room already occupied?"

Mickey clutches their key ring tighter.

"This is our room...... IF YOU'RE NOT GONE IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS I WILL GOUGE YOUR FUCKING EYES OUT AND FEED THEM TO YOU!"

Mickey shrieks in laughter at the sound of slamming doors and footsteps racing down the hall. They've never raised their voice at anyone like that before. Love is a crazy drug. They carve their initials and yours beneath your bed, slithering from the opening and up onto your bed between the sheets for the best night of sleep they've had since they were young.

[allwormdiet]

Agitation 3.1

Got waylaid by work and brain weather, but we're back to it. Let's see how Taylor's life is going

Her routine has come up before, but it bears saying that I think Taylor's actual superpower might just be that she's a morning person who can hold herself to accomplish daily goals, like goddamn girl

The constant, casual cruelty that makes up so much of Taylor's history is equal parts saddening and infuriating. I'm sure we'll get an explanation for why the bullies do this to her, I think I've said as much in previous posts, but also as mentioned in previous posts I find it aggravating to endure.

...I don't know if this is quite the right place in my reading to speculate on it, but I'm not sure if Taylor even has a shot at university at this point, even setting aside the cape thing. The bullies are all in her year, which means they'd never be separated from her by graduation. Their constant sabotage and harassment would mean her grades are low, so even if she gets into a college with whatever GPA she can bodge together (and no extracurriculars to pad her application out), she's probably not going to earn any scholarships and money's already pretty tight for the Heberts. That means student loans, and probably shit rates considering the world they're in.

Maybe this is my bitter ass reflecting on how the greatest benefits I got out of going to college were completely incidental to the courses I took or the degree I earned, but... Taylor, I know college meant a lot to your mom, I just don't think that path is nearly as open to you as it used to be. I think it's fine to just learn a trade, and I think it's fine if the trade is armed robbery.

So you're telling me Taylor's self-image used to be worse? Jeeesus

I like that Brian knows how to blend into an environment as the situation calls for it. That speaks to a pretty keen observational ability, and also is maybe tied to his need to act more grown-up than he is. And now I'm sad again.

"I want" is cute, embarrassment is for suckers (I say, easily embarrassed)

I don't even like coffee, but a fifteen dollar coffee had better be the best coffee you've ever had, oh my god

And honestly that must have been weird for every member of the team, just suddenly having money not be a problem anymore. Taylor's holding out for now, although I suspect it won't be that way forever, and everyone else either wants or needs it bad enough for their own ends that I don't think they're gonna think about it too hard (except for Lisa, who has the full context and whose power is thinking too hard)

Taylor please don't undersell your injuries to your teammates, I don't like you doing it with your dad but I understand it. Here though? Come onnnnn

Yeah there we go

Violence is an easy language to understand. Cruel, obviously, and painful, but if Rachel is already struggling with other people's words and feelings (five bucks says she's autistic tbh) then getting the shit kicked out of her is probably a better sell on the new recruit than any pretty speech

...Ideally they move past that pretty quick so words can be used again

Also poor Rachel, for real. Ten years in the system and then whatever it was that triggered her powers, which is obviously never good. No wonder she came out the other end more willing to trust dogs than people.

Ugh, my heart

Is she showing off for the guy she's crushing on? That's adorable

Curious that the limits of her power seem to be based on complexity of the brain. I assume there has to be a brain at all or else she could just shoot germs at people, although that'd also be a little bit inefficient as a power unless she started getting into disease warfare and holy shit this would be a very different story if Taylor could give people smallpox

Gotta be a weird day for the crab though

Couple things here

Brian you're not even eighteen yet as far as I know, what the hell

Of course Lisa cheated, she's built to cheat, at that point I'm not sure it even counts as cheating

Knowing what I know about Alec, somehow I doubt he was ever in school to drop out in the first place

...on the flipside I'm a little surprised that Rachel never went during her time in the system, you'd figure that'd be a condition of her fostering but either the guardians didn't give a shit or she fought her way out of ever actually attending

Also, I know it's a matter of course that she'd have a key to the base, but it's sweet all the same

It's nice of Brian to make this offer, although I'm willing to bet it's because he's the only Undersider who would get up before 6 AM. It's also a pretty smart call to keep her up to date this way

Also very funny that Taylor is like "Oh I like Lisa just fine but she scares the shit out of me"

...Also also, for real, Lisa has to already know what's going on with Taylor right? There's no way Taylor's good enough at lying to bury that one.

Girl I'm dreading it and I'm just reading about it

This is just. So goddamn sad. And maddening, to boot.

Gee Taylor you sure to seem to spend a fair amount of time thinking about the comparative attractiveness of other women

Agonizing, though, for real. Wildbow has knocked every school scene out of the park and I hate it.

I wonder if Taylor's gonna even bother coming back to school at this point. First day she left mid lunch, second day she left right after lunch started, here she's splitting before first period. As much as she clings to this side of her life... I don't know if it's any healthier than full-time villainy.

Go blow off steam with your new friends Taylor

Current Thoughts

I actually don't have any real expectations for this arc going into it. Obviously Arc 1 is the start of... I mean kind of everything, and Arc 2 is made up of the immediate aftermath from those events. This one? I dunno. I was a little worried I'd have to deal with another chapter of Winslow, but it looks like Taylor decided she was sick of that shit

I like Brian, but I think mostly I'm worried for him? This is a lot of effort so far made to seem mature and normal, and I don't know if that's possible for a teenager who goes out to be a supervillain. It's admirable in a sense, but I'm worried about how fragile it leaves him.

I don't love that Rachel seems satisfied by an exchange of violence but that's more bc I don't want these kids beating the shit out of each other, not any kind of "this is bad actually" sense.

Other than that I'm mostly just curious what the rest of this arc looks like. Thank fuck it's not more high school.

Oh, yeah, I'm gonna try and read more at work today, I might take my screenshots then and see if they drive me up a wall, but even if so I'll just retake them when I get home. Fingers crossed work is slow enough for it.

[almostgigi]

🌹right here, right now🌹

Summary: Eddie and reader are in Mr. Kohl office waiting for their punishments but he's late.

Note: sorry in advance for any mistake there might be, I'm not fluent in English as it is not my first language.

WC: 3.8k

Content Warning: fem!reader, reader likes Eddie but he doesn't know her, smut MDNI, fingering, unprotected piv (don't do that, please be responsible), filthy talk, marking, exhibitionism kink, squirting, breading kink (if you squint), just filthy stuff. Let me know if I forget anything!!

I was sitting in the principal’s office when he came in, storming into the place like a hurricane. The door almost getting out of it’s place. I flinch at the loud sound and he doesn’t notice. He sits by my side with his eyebrows frowning and a look in his eyes that was kinda scary. I’m on my phone so it’s not awkward and there’s not weird looks in between us. He has his backpack across his chest and grabs it really tight like his life depends on it. I look at him slightly with my peripheral vision and notice his heavy breathing on my ears. His heart was probably going a mile per minute.

“you ok?” I ask without taking my eyes of my phone and the pictures I was watching. He takes notice of me and my question.

“you talking to me?” he sounds raspy like he was fighting to talk.

“do you see anyone else on the room I could be talking to instead?” my response comes out a bit more rude than I expected so I change my face and turn around.

“wow, rude girl, I see” he softens the grip on his backpack and turns too.

“sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that” I really didn't.

“s’okay, I can imagine you got a bad day if you’re here” at least he’s nice.

“so do you right?” anyone who gets to meet the principal’s office is definitely having a bad one.

“you could say that, yeah” I get a confused look on my face as he stares at me. “what?” he asks in between laughs. Cute.

“what did you do?” I ask softly “to be here, what did you do?” I repeat.

“oh, uhm- I shouldn’t tell you, s’gross” he scrunches his nose as he speaks.

“ah come on, it can’t be worse than Jimmy Cooper sticking his used gum on Mrs. O’Donnell lunch last week. Can it?” there’s a little fear in my words as I can’t believe anything worse or more gross than that. He makes a face that indicates to me that it is, in fact, grosser than what Jimmy did. “what the fuck did you do, Munson?” I’m now on the edge of my seat.

“wait, you know my name? how come I don’t know yours but you know mine if I’ve never seen you before?” he’s at the edge of his now.

“you might have this rare disease called “not noticing pretty girls”, s’bad, if I were you I’ll be heading to the doctor right away after talking to the principal” I press my lips together in a fine line when I’m done talking and I nod, then laugh.

“ouch, I’m sorry lady. S’there a cure for this?” he ask with a hand on his chest, he takes it seriously as he can’t take his eyes off of mine.

“probably, haven’t been discovered yet tho. I know, s’shitty, m’sorry man, good luck at the doctor’s appointment anyways” we both chuckle after a few seconds. This is probably the best interaction I’ve had in years.

“no worries, I’ll call you when I get real sick” he says.

“what for?” I get confused.

“gonna need a nurse to take care of me and my poor state” his voice gets deeper as he talks like this.

“you should know I charge more for specialized treatment tho” I raise my brows at him, I’m not easy to get.

“I can pay you whatever way you need or want” he plays with me.

“oh now you’re just teasing. You’re awful Eddie, you killed the vibe” I get a finger in the air, accusing him in an also playful way.

“so there was a vibe, I wasn’t crazy after all” he moves the chair closer to me. “what did you do to be here” his eyes narrow on my way.

“don’t change the subject, I asked you first” I was not gonna forget that he never answered.

“well I don’t wanna tell but you insist so here we go. I got an f on one of my geometry test just because Mr. Larson doesn’t like me, I did good and he failed me, so I pissed his car door” I wish someone could take a picture of my face in this exact moment a frame it to put in the louvre “I told ya it was gross, you asked for it baby”

“don’t call me baby after you said that, eww” I scrunch my nose in disgust “although I think he deserves it, he’s pretty mean to me too”

“ohh we can’t have him being mean to baby right?” he teases again. I throw a look at him, letting him know what I mean. “sorry for the teasing, it’s who I am”

“wanna know what I did now?” I try my best to keep the topic of him teasing me as far as I can.

“yes, please”

“I got in a verbal fight with one of my classmates and I was in the right, but my teacher picked sides with my classmate and told me to shut up so I told her to go fuck herself. You should’ve seen her face, she could not believe what she heard. Was fucking hilarious” my foot was now closer to his, almost touching each other.

“savage” he says in a funny tone, but looking at the floor where our feet were now touching.

“I know, I know, I’m iconic” I joke, trying to make him laugh and I’m successful.

“I think is really brave to stand for yourself with an adult who doesn’t know what respect for the others is” most of his words come out shaky but genuine. I was about to say something to him but the door was opened and the secretary told us the principal was gonna be late for another half an hour, so we had to wait more.

“fucking awesome” I say. I watch as she closes door and Eddie goes to the principal’s chair and sits on it.

“he sure has better things to do right? Such a busy man” he sits straight and begins to talk again. “if it wasn’t for me this school would be a little shit dumpster. All this kids are nothing without me” his voice sounds funny since he’s trying his best to copy Mr. Kohl’s tone. “I’m a man of word, and you should trust when I tell you I’m gonna make this delinquents into decent people no matter how I have to do it” he continues.

“oh sir, but all that work must be so stressful, isn’t it?” I follow his game and he looks at me with open eyes.

“indeed it is sweet girl, why you ask?”

“I thought maybe…” I stand of my place and approach him. “maybe I could help you sir”

“you think you can young lady?” he says. I put one leg on each side of his sitting body. “what you think you’re doing?” he stutters in between words. I feel his body tense underneath me.

“I’m helping you sir, I can make all the stress go away and I’m gonna show you how” it’s not a secret I like Eddie, all of my friends know it. He’s the one that never noticed me, but I never cared; until now, where I find myself about to show him what he’s been missing.

“I-i- shit. I don’t think you shou- oh my god” all he can do is whimper from the way my hips are bucking into his right now.

“come on now sir, don’t you like me?” he probably should know I’m not playing anymore, this is true now. I pout and look intensely into his dark brown eyes.

“s’not that sweetheart, I-you shouldn’t be doing this here”

“you heard the secretary, he’ll be gone for half an hour more, we got time” he doesn’t seem to be comfortable with the situation as he keeps looking at the door. “I find the fact that someone could find us so fun, don’t you? I thought you were cool Munson”

“I am”

“not right now, you’re not being cool” my hands travel to the back of his neck and I kiss him deeply, desire building in my heart.

“fine” he says as soon as he can without stopping the kiss. One of my hands tries to unbuckle his belt with difficulty, and he helps me with his own hands. I lift my skirt to let him see my lilac and already wet panties. “holy fuck” the air I his lungs leaving is my favorite sound until now. Like he’s devoted to my body. I touch him over his boxer and I can’t believe he goes around packing like that. I don’t even exaggerate when I say he’s the biggest I’ve ever had. “found something you like?” I can’t take my eyes away from that part of him but I force myself and look up to him.

“maybe…” I say as I run a finger ever so slightly over his clothed length making him hiss at the contact.

“you’re such a tease” his tone let’s me know he doesn’t like it, he prefers if I just take it. But I’m not doing that just yet. This is too good to be so short.

“well, I was about to be put in detention for a reason sir” I keep my slight touch on his chest this time.

“you like being like this? like being a bad girl?” I nod “you do, right? you adore coming to see me. I bet you do it on purpose”

“I do sir, I misbehave so I can be with you in this tiny room, so I can be in your lap, so you can feel how good I wanna be for you” now where the fuck was that amount of words coming from? It’s like I was possessed and I liked it.

“my God, you’re so dirty baby” his voice is now so low, I can feel how he gets hard under me even more.

“you haven’t even heard half of it sir, I can be so much dirty. You just have to ask me” I put on my best puppy eyes as I look at him. The desire in his face shows. He’s just as horny as I am now.

“well then, I want you to be the dirtiest you’ve ever been, don’t even hold back a word. I want you full package” his hands go to my waist for a moment and then to my panties where the wet patch was. Two of his fingers touch me where I need him the most.

“please” the trail he does burns me.

“please what, baby? I need you to speak to me beauty” he says in a low tone.

“please touch me, I need you now” I can’t contain it anymore. I need his playful hands on my burning body.

“that’s what I like to hear” he smiles at me. The fingers that were dancing over my underwear were now putting it aside “you’re so fucking wet and I haven’t done anything to you. You got this worked up just by fantasizing with me baby?” I nod as that is the only thing I can do right now. He inserts his fingers finally, in an agonizingly slow motion, I watch as he does so. “already got you dumb on me princess? God, you look so pretty all dumb on my fingers” I whimper as my walls close around him. “so fucking hot, you sound amazing”

“i- Eddie i-” my pleadings seem to be satisfying to him as I look up at him and I find him grinning.

“you-you what sweet girl?” he mocks my stuttering and kisses my cheek. I keep whimpering because I don’t want the secretary to hear me. “you wanna cum baby?” I nod frenetically. “ow, then you do so” Suddenly his movements became faster, fingers hooking on a sweet spot inside of me that was making me see stars.

“oh, fuck, right there! yes! right there!” I scream in a whisper.

“right there baby? that’s the spot? how does it feel for you?” he asks, examining my face.

“it-it feels so fffucking good, I wanna cum all over your fingers” my senses are fucked right now, I can’t even think correctly.

“do it princess, soak me please” his dirty words were doing it for me and he wasn’t gonna stop there. “God, she’s sucking me in. Such a greedy cunt you have here” the feeling of release finally traveling to my lower stomach and letting me have the best orgasm of my life. I come undone on his hands as he helps me to come down of my high. As soon as he takes both fingers out from my insides he puts them in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them clean with his tongue.

“fucking hell, that’s so hot of you Munson” no boy ever had the decency of tasting me before.

“you are as sweet as you look, pretty” he says in a sweet voice. He leans in and kisses me, letting our tongues meet and collapse with each other. “I hope you don’t take this personal, but I need to fuck you”

“oh Eds, I take it very personal. Which means that if you don’t fuck me now I’m gonna fuck you myself”

“I’m very hard right now, if I don’t take it out it’s going to burst” his brows frowning and his big doe eyes looking up at me were the prettiest thing to see.

“take it out then, I wanna see it” with a fast movement of his hands and hips the jeans were lowered to the point where it was easier to have access to his boxers. Seconds later I tug the hem of them with my fingers and I set it free. My mouth waters at the view and I can feel myself getting wetter just by the thought of him inside of me. My cunt clenches and he sees it.

“such a pretty pussy, I wonder how it looks with my cock inside” he keeps the words heavy and dirty just for me. I feel hot and bothered just for him. I grab his cock and line it with my entrance, rubbing the tip just a little so it can get wet with my juices. I sit on him slowly and we both moan at the feeling. He’s stretching me so much. “Pussy’s so tight, it’s clenching around me so good” his hand grabs my neck and pulls me closer to kiss me in a feral way. My teeth catches his lower lip and bites it slightly not to hurt him. “get up, bend over the desk, I can’t fuck you properly in this fucking chair” I hear his demand and I obey him rapidly. My entire body trembling from the uncomfortable position I was in just now. I lower my chest in the desk and he takes one of his hands to the front of my right thigh and knee, bringing it up on the table. This way I was more open for him and he could see my pussy on display. I feel a smack on my ass and he grabs the flesh a little. Soon I feel a small source of air near me. When I realize it's his breathing I don't have time to prepare. His tongue runs the whole way down from top to bottom making me gasp at the sensation. “next time m’gonna spend an hour devouring this pussy, mark my words” he lifts from his knelling position and leaves me thinking about that next time. Was he sure there will be a next time? He wanted to fuck me again and eat me out. Fuck. I was looking forward for that next time already and we weren’t even done yet with this one. Aligning again his length to my entrance, he enters me with a hard and erratic thrust that almost makes me cry, in a good way. We were setting a pace and trying not to be heard. Suddenly one of his hands goes to my covered chest and lifts my shirt a little, grabbing one of my boobs and squishing it tightly. There will be marks on them tomorrow but I didn’t mind as I was lost in the moment, he was fucking me hard enough to cause our skins touching to make a sound. He grabs my leg again taking it forward on the table.

“fuck, I can feel you so deep inside of me, you’re so big Eddie” every inch of his cock making me see stars. My gummy walls accepting his length with love and hotness.

“You’re taking me so well baby, every inch. Perfect pussy was made for me, right baby?” again demanding me and I obey as always.

“y-yes”

“yes what? I thought I asked to be dirty, you’re not being a good girl right now” his tone was now lower and something in it let me know he was getting kinda mad.

“I’m-I’m sorry. Yes, it was made for you, just you” I mumble. I shake my head in an attempt to get my brain clear and be able to think but his hands on my waist and chest were taking out of my body. It was like I was experiencing it outside of what was actually happening, it was strange.

“that’s better. I love the sounds she makes when I go all the way out and I put it in like this” he says pulling out almost completely just to put it in again extremely hard making me moan into my own hand. The squelching sound my pussy made thanks to our juices combined was delicious.

“o-oh my god”

“you like that? Good. Wanna know what m’gonna do? m’gonna cum inside of you and you’re gonna take care of it” I never in my life had taken pills before, turns out I’m gonna have to start. Truth is, we were fucking raw and as much as I know Eddie hasn’t been with anyone else I don’t wanna be pregnant in a matter of weeks. He continues. “I want you to put your wet panties over this pretty pussy again and keep my cum stored until you get home and I want you to take a picture and send it to me. I wanna see my cum leaking out of you, from her before you clean it, understood?” he had a plan for me, a dirty, filthy plan and I liked it. How could I like this? In the whole year that I’ve spent liking Eddie I’ve have never imagined he was like this. I would look at him in the cafeteria with his friends and think he was sweet, always taking care of the boys in his club and making them feel safe and that they fit. Something that was never given to him. A sense of belonging was what he always needed and never had. Boys at school could be very cruel, even more to a kid that was different and proud like Eddie. I would also stare at him at the library, where I always find him on Wednesdays, looking for a new sci-fi book to devour. Or maybe on the parking lot where he would stop to smoke for ten minutes, probably listening to some music while he does. I loved to watch him smoke, even though I hate people that smoke, I find him really sexy when he does. It’s the way he grabs it in between his fingers ever so delicate and brings it to his lips, sucking and then blowing the smoke away. Like I said, so sexy. I get distracted in my thoughts that I barely remember to respond.

“I’ll be good Eddie, I’ll take care of your cum, please. I feel so full, fuck” his cock had found the spot and the head was now abusing it. I put both my hands on the desk, lifting my ass a little bit more and I feel my stomach revolve. The feeling of release again hitting my lower belly but this time there was something more. The hand that was on my boob releases it and goes to my clit, rubbing fast circles in it applying enough pressure to give me the pleasure I want so bad. A few seconds more and I cum around his cock, I hear the gushing sounds of my wetness and I feel sedated. I close my eyes and let go.

“Fuck baby, you squirted all over my fucking cock, Jesus. Got all over the table baby, shit” so I squirted, that was what I felt. He was fucking me so good it made me do something I never did before. He kept fucking me through my orgasm and I felt overstimulated. “Ah, you keep squirting baby, fucking shit, I’m going to cum so fucking deep inside you”. Once I regain my senses, I started throwing my ass back against his cock at the same time he hit me. “Oh that’s it baby, take it, take it, take it” one of his hands smacking my ass cheek as I did. “Yeah, take that fucking cock” I love this version of him that I didn’t know until now. He was a beast, a menace in the best of senses. If I had a very sweet person like him fuck me like this everyday I’ll loose my fucking mind. He grabs my face and makes me turn to look at him while he keeps pounding me from behind. “Look at me, here baby, I want you to look at me when I fill you up” a good and hard thrusts more and he came inside of me, all his hot, sweet cum shooting inside my walls.

He helps me lower down my leg and slowly pulls out and puts my underwear back in a fast movement. Gives a few pats on my clothed pussy and rubs it.

“I want that picture when you get home” he reminds me of his demand. I nod while smiling and I turn to kiss him. “how many classes you have the rest of the day?” he asks interested. We love around and sit on our places.

“just one, biology 3” I was already thinking about how uncomfortable that class would be with a big load of cum trying to come out of my cunt.

“great, I’m in that one too, it’s gonna be fun” I gasp as I realize he’s gonna watch me the entire time but I have nothing left to say as the door is open now. The principal enters and looks like he’s been dealing with something huge that we don’t know about.

“Okay kids, this day has been extremely tiring and I’m sorry I made you wait so long. There’s no much to say as you both have detention on Friday” he takes some papers from the desk and we turn to leave. Suddenly he yells to the secretary and we can’t help but laugh loudly as we hear what he tells her.

“Susan!? Why is my desk all wet and sticky!?”

Well we hope he doesn’t look at the cameras or we’ll be screwed. Detention would be the last of our worries.

[livvyofthelake]

new lost ranking post the hurley episode i watched last night. episode 18? maybe. whatever

1. jack obviously. he’s never getting knocked off the top of the pyramid there’s literally nothing anyone else could do to make me like them more than jack…. nothing this show ever does will ever beat do no harm

2. sayid!!! his swag is like. so unbeatable… he just hits different AND he’s a total hottie too woah… loving his paranoid insane freak arc this season. the writers were like what if we killed his girlfriend and made him act insane. and i’m eating it up actually i mean i wish they hadn’t killed his girlfriend considering that was literally my good friend shannon who i miss deeply. but sayid is NOT moving on and i love it… need me a freak like that sorry

3. claire… maternity leave was HUGE… and that’s my friend belle she always ranks higher than she probably should because she’s my friend belle <3

4. hurleyyyyy :) my special little prince and i mean this… i’m such a hurley girl and yeah sure you can also chalk that up to the fact that hurley is the pet character of eddie and adam and i would love anything eddie and adam did forever and ever except that tron movie i could never quite get through watching. heart! anyway yeah i love hurley he’s my guy… hurley is so. me age 19 but different but the same. wow. if hurley could read some of my notes app poetry from 2020 he’d feel seen in a way that would motivate him to seek professional help. but let’s not get into that

5. ana lucia SORRY. she kinda sucks so fucking bad and yes she killed my beautiful girl shannon but that was only her fault as much as it’s a gun’s fault when someone uses it to kill someone. so i’ve never blamed her for that it’s just a bad situation which she will notttt be coming out on top of 😐. but i think she’s sooo cool in a woman who sucks way… and her cunty 2000s ass outfit is crazy… the black tank top and low rise bootcut jeans and chunky belt and zip up utility vest…. i’d dress up as her for halloween if i was the kind of person who dressed up for halloween or was willing to buy an ugly belt for a one wear costume. also her plot with sayid rn is soooo good they’re looking at each other just two paranoid FREAKS going. you aren’t crazy. and neither am i. let’s fucking kill these Others. it’s sooooo good… and she never makes the same mistake twice…

6. eko my good friend eko…. he’s so…. he’s just so kind… imagine having the patience and compassion to be nice to charlie right now. woah

7. kate. in her flop era rn and it’s DIRE. but we love her this is the highest i can put her right now i’m sorry girl you just can’t beat out eko and hurley and ana etc when you’re acting like this….

8. rose and bernard <3 soooooo excited for them next episode it’s not even funny… that’s literally rose and bernard….

9. libby. category five obsessed with that freak disease! she took one look at that loser hurley and was like he’s so fucking pathetic and weird. and i want him so bad. and i HAVE to respect her game. she said oh yeah i’m gonna talk him back from suicide and then it’s ON…

10. danielle rousseau… she literally slayed the house down in maternity leave… sorry queen for never including you in these lists before now my bad fr!

11. sun <3 she’s so. your girl friend who deserves way better but she’s so happy with her annoying and unlikeable man you can’t even tell her to dump his ass no matter how bad you want to

12. michael… where tf is michael… i miss him :(

13. new guy. i can’t very well call him henry now can i. wtf is his name… kinda like his pathetic gay swag. but he’s sooo annoying 🙄 and frankly i stand with sayid’s paranoid freak ass… but he’s kinda fun to have around i admit! love how he’s always playing mind games!!

14. locke admittedly has been slaying lately but i still think all his backstory episodes are lame and bad and also. as we say. an enemy of jack’s…

15. jin. he like. swings wildly between me hating him so bad i hope he dies and me thinking he’s soooo interesting and compelling and cool. the whole truth was a crazy episode in this way when it started i was like wow he needs to kill himself. and then by the end i was like woah why is he the most interesting man on lost island…. the way he literally can’t talk to anyone but sun as a physical storytelling metaphor for his closed off nature that prevents him from ever being truly known… wowie!

16. charlie. he’s flopping soooo hard this season. remember when charlie used to be a top five character. that’s crazy

17. sawyer. goes without explanation

[northwestofinsanity]

Band Incorrect Quote/Scenario -“I Love My Job…” (Hospital AU)

Well, with an incorrect-quote-worthy event at work, here’s another cursed extended band incorrect scenario in the cursed veterinary hospital AU with Styx and Squeeze… This time, rather than the mixed bunch in “Frencho Fryo Time”, or Squeeze by themselves as with the Daylight Savings time, this one features Styx by themselves, and the situation brings out their dramatic dynamic!

-It’s 10:00 AM, and a drug label has come back from reception to the pharmacy lab for the assistant team to refill a patient’s script of liquid furosemide*-

[*This is a diuretic medication, often used to prevent or remove fluid buildup around the heart and lungs (effusion), most commonly for patients in later stage heart disease]

Tommy Shaw: *Sees the label* “Is this a compound? There’s no recipe label printed.”

JY: “No, if you go in the cabinet above Dr. R’s desk, that one is pre-made in a solution, because it’s really unstable if we compound it in-house. All you have to do is just get a syringe and pull out however many cc’s the label says it’s for.”

Tommy Shaw: *Goes and looks in the cabinet* “JY, I can’t find it!”

JY: *Comes in, and finds the two boxes of it, unopened, but on the top shelf, and turned around so the labels face the back of the cabinet, unfortunately positioned in a way that set Tommy up for failure finding it* “There it is.” *Pulls one box down, and flips the other around.*

Tommy Shaw: “Really? Up there, turned around?”

JY: “I don’t know who put it away like that. It’s not supposed to be put away like that. Anyway, do you still want to fill it, or do you want me to fill it?”

Tommy Shaw: “I’ve never filled that one, but it seems easy enough, so I probably should.”

JY: “Okay. It’s not really any different than if you were doing the Cisapride solution.”

Tommy Shaw: *Perks up* “Oh, okay! Yeah, I can do that!”

JY: *Has an odd feeling that something is going to go wrong, despite the fact that Tommy has filled quite a few scripts before and that he usually has faith in Tommy to do things right, so he stays in the pharmacy hall in hopes he can be there to prevent whatever is about to go wrong*

-Less than two minutes later- Tommy Shaw: *Has gotten the compounding bottle and syringe adapter tops at the ready, and is in the process of pulling the correct amount out of the stock bottle. As he is, he’s to get the syringe plunger to pull back due to the viscous nature of the furosemide solution.  On autopilot, he disconnects the syringe and pulls some air into it, then puts it into the adapter top to create some extra air in the bottle to keep the plastic walls from getting sucked inward as the solution is pulled out, but forgets in his auto-pilot mode that he has a rather large, 25cc syringe, rather than a tiny 3 or 1cc syringe, thus, having the plunger pulled nearly halfway back with air is a lot more than usual.  He starts to push the air into the bottle*

JY: *Does a double take, realizing after 5 cc’s what Tommy is unknowingly doing, and can see the sides of the bottle starting to bow outward* “Oh, don’t do that-!”

-Instantly, before anyone can even respond to JY’s warning, the air pressure in the bottle pushes the syringe adapter top out of the bottle neck and causes the solution to spray out of the bottle, across Tommy’s chest and arms, in his face, and all over the countertop and everything on it.  It’s on the wall between the counter and the overhead cabinets, on the cabinet doors, and all over the lab sample tubes in the basket on the counter, as well as in the open box of microscope slides, and soaked into the towel that various bottles of cleaner and lab solvents sit on to protect the counter top from any leaks-

Dennis, John, and Chuck: *All gasp super loud*

Tommy Shaw: *Freezes with a look on his face of being a hundred percent done with everything as he sets the bottle down, which now only has about a quarter of the medication volume left in it, and wipes the droplets that are dangerously close to his eyes*

Dennis DeYoung: *Looks like he’s about to say something, or rather, shout something at Tommy*

JY: *Puts his hands up and very sternly shakes his head at Dennis, then turns and gives John and Chuck a similar warning look* “Don’t say anything...”

Tommy Shaw: *Inhales deeply with a wheeze and lets out a groaning sigh*

John Panozzo: *Walks out of the pharmacy hallway, because he’s trying hard not to laugh and knows he’s going to lose the battle*

Tommy Shaw: “I… don’t even know what I expected would happen when I did that… I don’t know why I did that… or what I was even thinking.” *Sighs again, setting the syringe and bottle down on the counter, and puts his hands down at his sides in defeat*

JY: *Grabbing some hand towels and rags out of the closet in the hallway* “Okay… it’s alright… we’ve got the other bottle.  We’ll just clean all this up, use what we’ve got left in this one before opening the other, and we’ll let Alan Gratzer know that one of the bottles spilled and we’re on our last one.  He doesn’t even have to know how it happened.”

Dennis DeYoung: *Eyes wide* “What do you mean he doesn’t-!?”

JY: *Trying so hard not to sigh in a way that sounds annoyed as he is* “Tommy, if you don’t have a spare shirt in your car, there’s that whole bin of spares in the bathroom.  Please go wash that off and get changed, and we can make sure that goes in the next load of laundry.”

Tommy Shaw: *Looks alarmed* “Is this one of those drugs that are bad if you touch it?”

JY: “No, it doesn’t have effects on skin contact -and even if it did, it would only be an issue if you have blood pressure trouble.  But you don’t need to be walking around covered in it.”  *Waits until Tommy goes off before turning to Dennis* “I just said, it is NOT that big a deal, and Alan has WAY too much to do with tracking inventory -as long as nobody is stealing or consuming the drugs, he DOES NOT CARE how it happened.  He just needs to know that we made a mistake, some was lost, and we need to order more.  End of story!”

Chuck Panozzo: *Looks between both of them* “BYE.”  *Walks off, and with the power of suggestion, goes back to the laundry room to see where the cycle is at and if he can make sure Tommy’s scrub top gets in the next load*

Dennis DeYoung: “Fine, then.”  *Walks away toward treatment*

JY: *Groans to self as he sprays and wipes off the main part of the counter, then goes to get the other bottle of that particular medication solution so that he can fill the script and have that part over with before dealing with the more details areas that got splashed, deciding in his head that he’ll leave most of it for Tommy to clean when he gets back, but will deal with the tedious process of washing all the microscope slides and drying them so they don’t have water stains or streaks* “Ohh, I love my job, I love my job, I love my job… I do love my job. And my coworkers…”

[ajgrey9647]

"we should probably stop this” “yeah” … “we’re not going to though, right?” “oh absolutely not” + World of the Coinless Bulk/Kim

Shattered Looking Glass/Replacing Death with Hope

Rated: 18+

This took on a life of it's own, hence the insane length lol. Enjoy!

Sometimes it bothered her if she thought too much about it. Most days it was easy to not give the missing memories the attention they always seemed to demand. Right now, Kimberly Hart, former Ranger Slayer, maybe Lady Drakkon to some, had more than her fair share of demands vying for resolution.

Ever since she had unofficially taken over Lord Drakkon’s throne, it had been one crisis after another, and she’d scrambled madly to keep their existence from coming apart at the seams. Frequent headaches were a common occurrence, usually from gritting her teeth and trying to pull the impossible out of stark reality.

A tenuous sort of trust had begun to take shape between the Slayer and the other inhabitants of the Coinless World. Honestly, what choice did most of them have? When Drakkon recreated this universe, it was almost surprising that he didn’t appear to insist on the newest latest-and-greatest technology. Instead of shifting into some type of futuristic, advanced society, this planet had taken several steps back into the past.

Kimberly had seen pictures in her textbooks as a young elementary schoolgirl of the ways of old. Horse drawn farming equipment, carriages and wagons. Wood burning stoves for cooking and for heat. Candlelight for illumination in the darkness. Homemade clothing and foodstuffs. Bartering and trading. The clanging of enormous brass bells to signal various events and news. Even an older style of dressing had made a return.

Definitely no malls, televisions, movies, smartphones, tablets, cars, airplanes, computers.

The whole world existed in an almost hushed silence, the colors themselves drab and dreary in shades of black, grey, and brown. If ‘solemn’ was a place, it would be the Coinless Universe, of that she was certain. The Thirteen O’Clock Realm, as Skull laughingly referred to it, or Drakkon’s Demented Wonderland of the Damned.

Operating in the ways of old obviously brought a return of problems that had long been put to rest by technology and advances in medicine. Disease, infection, crop production issues, livestock illness, resultant food shortages, low birth rates and soaring mortality ones.

‘One problem at a time,’ Kim always told herself. ‘We’re going to survive here. This won’t be the way Drakkon wins.’

Trini and Zack were always there to lend whatever support and suggestions they could though the Slayer hated to bother them. They had suffered so much, she only wanted them to be able to smile again. She was rather sure that she had never seen Trini crack a smile since the day Jason was presumed killed.

Losing Billy was another heartrending blow to their morale.

The former Yellow Ranger had mostly withdrawn into herself over the course of Drakkon’s ascension and rule. Despite doing what needed to be done for the survivors and to thwart the tyrant’s goals, the tiny woman didn’t speak much to anyone unless she had to. Trini was laser focused on staving off the Sentries and creating ways to survive in the wilderness that was the Coinless camp, which was in even more primal straits than Drakkon’s palace.

Zack had been much the same way. He had designated himself Trini’s shadow, afraid to let her out of his sight for fear she would too be taken from them. Jason’s ‘death’, Billy’s confirmed murder, Skull’s ‘disappearance, then reappearance as a Red Sentry’, Kimberly running away and returning as the Ranger Slayer, had been too much for the man’s nerves. As a consequence, the former Black Ranger had a habit of holding onto things, anything that came into his possession, regardless of its value or significance. No one had the heart to try to correct the behavior as they each had a laundry list of trauma induced responses.

Discovering that Jason had survived the asshole’s carnage had been a brief source of joy and excitement. Until they realized the depths of insanity Drakkon had driven their beloved leader to after he, unrecognizable at the time, bolted out of Drakkon’s rooms and proceeded to viciously attack them like a rabid dog. If Bulk hadn’t been there to tackle the frenzied pet and crack the back of his head, he surely would have killed them all.

The large, hulking man had managed the heavy lifting required to haul Red, as Skull advised was his name, to what passed as a medical bay and deposit him on a table for assessment and treatment. After Bulk had quickly applied restraints to the unstable, unconscious human-canine’s arms and legs, he’d noticed something about this odd prisoner that teased familiarity. Brushing the thatch of unruly, dark grey hair back from Red’s face, the former bully had been able to see Jason Scott tucked away beneath all the wildness.

Bulk had been the one to gaily announce the news, only to have Red rush back into consciousness to scream, rant, swear, and threaten bloody murderous acts of violence. Locking him in Drakkon’s containment room had been their only choice, for their safety as well as Red’s. There were uncomfortable whispers amongst the surviving populace, particularly the Sentries, that Drakkon’s dog should be euthanized, taken out back and given the Old Yeller treatment.

Which, of course, had been met with fiery outrage and promises of great bodily harm from Bulk himself if anyone attempted such a disgusting feat, to the Slayer’s great relief. Where would she be without Farkas? He had been the stalwart backbone of the rag-tag Coinless, along with Skull before he invaded Drakkon’s ranks, ever since the asshole’s creation. A bear of a man physically, Bulk also possessed the mentality of a mother bear when it came to those in his charge.

That had included Kimberly, once freed from Drakkon’s influence and nearly stoned to death, and now extended to the mentally warped Jason Scott, or rather, Red, as he refused to respond to his old name.

With Drakkon’s apparent demise, Kimberly had a chance to right some wrongs as best she could manage. Not everything was able to be fixed, she reminded herself, but what she could set to rights, she would make every effort to do so. Her days were packed full of intense decision making and problem-solving efforts.

So, it was at night, that memories and ‘what-if’s’ assailed her as she lay curled in bed in a room of the palace that had not been Drakkon’s bedchambers, huddled under sheets and blankets that had never touched his disgusting flesh. Thoughts shoved away in the sunlight roared to life with a vengeance in the darkness.

‘I was just a baby when all this started. We all were really. Each of us lost out on so much of our lives. Dating and relationships, graduating high school, going to college, starting careers, getting married and having children of our own,’ she mused, eyes growing moist at the enormity of their losses, pivotal moments in time gone forever.

A popular high school student, Kimberly had no trouble catching the attention of her male classmates, much to Jason’s constant frustration. He’d run interference to the point that she had to demand he either back off or date her himself, since he seemed to have such an issue with the other boys. Her leader’s face had went as red as his uniform at the comment as they had always been a brother and sister dynamic since they were infants.

This was around the time Tommy Oliver transferred to Angel Grove High. A lanky, gorgeous teen with angular features, a light smattering of freckles, and dreamy long, dark hair, this new student was also a rumored bad boy with the paperwork to prove it. Kim had found him very pleasing to look at but knew Jason would have had a stroke if she attempted to date someone with such a tumultuous past.

Not that it mattered in the end.

Initially stand-offish, Tommy kept to himself. The hell he wrought upon them a mere week later made that time period seem like a sweet dream. The green-clad teen had proven what an absolute dickhead he truly was!

His secret nickname among the other outcasts had been ‘that fucking dick’ and boy, did he live up to that title.

Tommy suddenly developed a massive obsessed hatred of Jason, starting physical altercations up and down the halls of the school, in gym class, catching him in the locker room. The Red Ranger had been mystified as to what he could he have possibly done to the new kid. Was he nursing a grudge from the martial arts tournament?

In reasonably short order, they discovered why and tried everything in their power to save Tommy from what they felt sure was all Rita’s handiwork. Yet destroying the Sword of Darkness did absolutely nothing to fix things, like Zordon had assured them would happen.

The Green Ranger and Rita’s goons descended on the Earth like a biblical plague and the rest was history.

Men and intimacy were the furthest things from her mind in the aftermath of Drakkon’s reign. She had never been with someone sexually, being so very young before and too traumatized and in survival mode afterwards in those early days. Yet, she knew one thing.

She had lost her virginity while living under the Ranger Slayer identity.

Pieces of memory, sights, sounds, smells, floated like tiny, iridescent bubbles in her mind, popping at random moments when she considered that dark time. She shuddered at the thought of Drakkon’s icy, vampire-like fingers caressing her bare skin, invading her body but quickly dismissed him as a possibility.

Sure, the tyrant enjoyed looking at her nude body. Many times, he’d call her into his bedchambers to dance in sheer fabrics and laces, twirling gracefully before the fire in the hearth. Or he’d request her to pose for a sketch, his thick journal perched on his knee while he studied her. Later, when he was dead and gone, Kim had found the mysterious journals containing her portraits.

Far from spank-bank material, these were very artistic, not even slightly lewd or bawdy.

Red typically knelt silently at his master’s knee while she danced or posed, grey hair obscuring most of his facial features. He was always so docile while under Drakkon’s gloved hand. When the master was gone, however, he was a force of nature to control, physically and verbally aggressive and unbelievably strong. The Slayer was wise to never underestimate Drakkon’s pet.

Once the tyrant was finished with her presence, he’d wave her away with a flick of a wrist, the fingers of the other hand curling a thick lock of Red’s hair between them, in an almost stimming manner. Sometimes before she departed, he would have ONE request.

“Be a dear, my sweet Slayer, and perform a surprise shake down of the Red Sentry quarters. Ensure they haven’t been misbehaving and obtaining any contraband. If you do happen to find an individual with something, or someone, they shouldn’t have, you are to bring them to me immediately for correction,” he’d purr, staring down at the grey locks as he spoke.

Drakkon didn’t appear to be physically attracted to her beyond admiring her from an artistic standpoint. Yet, someone had carnal knowledge of her body. She remembered her legs wrapped around a muscular, trim waist, broad back muscles flexing under her hands, hot lips and tongue trailing her mouth, neck, breasts.

A faceless, unknown lover. Useless to try and remember as it served no purpose in the here and now.

Throwing her blankets back, Kimberly found her feet and made her way down the chilly, stone hall to the kitchen area. The cool area brushed her curves through the thin material of her sleeping garment. Her erect nipples tented the cloth covering her breasts as she moved.

The Slayer’s flesh felt hot and tingly in the still darkness. Memories of that mysterious man’s hands gripping her thighs tightly, his fingertips trailing between her breasts, down her belly, before slipping inside her. Deep, animalistic sounds reverberating in his chest.

Swallowing the pool of saliva gathering in her mouth, Kim tried to shake the visions. What good did it do to get so worked up when she had nowhere to go?

Swinging the kitchen doors open, she let out a loud squeak of surprise at finding Bulk hunched over an icebox, candle in hand as he perused the contents for a midnight snack. The sudden, high pitched noise made him jump, nearly dropping his light source.

“Shit! Kim, what on earth are you doing up at this hour? Its too cold and late for you to be wandering the halls!” he scolded, once he released the tight hold on his chest.

“God, I’m sorry, Bulk,” she soothed. “I didn’t expect anyone else to still be up. I just…couldn’t sleep.”

Retrieving the food he’d been eyeing from the ice chest, the blonde sat the items on a low, scarred table. Giving an exasperated sigh, he shook his head, curls swishing his cheeks.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, Pinky,” he teased, his mouth curling in his signature smirk. “And I’d rather not have one here, no offense. Because ain’t nobody going to be able to carry my ass into the medical wing.”

Kim couldn’t help but playfully tease the larger man in kind.

“Don’t tell me after all we’ve been through, you’re scared of little ol’ me, Farkas?”

Lifting a brow, Bulk paused in his food sorting while he gazed down at the petite woman.

“Right now, no. I mean, I know you’re dangerous when you have to be these days. But I was actually more afraid Jason found a way to come through that supposedly ‘shatterproof’ glass. Skull witnessed him pull off some very wild shit, like superhuman acrobatics, tearing people’s throats out…”

He shuddered.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’ll defend Jase with my dying breath no matter what name he goes by. He’s still got Cujo-level spookiness, I’m sorry to admit.”

Kim moved to stand beside Bulk, his larger body radiating a comforting warmth. She watched as his massive hands, literal bear paws, tore chunks of cheese and hunks of meat from their slabs. A loaf of bread situated on the corner of the table was next.

Farkas might speak of Jason’s, or rather Red’s, strength with awe, but he was no lightweight himself and could probably give her big brother a run for his money. If he were in his right mind and not raving psychotically. Here, nestled in the man’s large shadow, Kimberly felt warm and safe.

Bulk was a bastion in a turbulent sea, a buoy in Drakkon’s madness. It was nice to feel like she didn’t have to rely on just herself for protection. The muscles of the other man’s arms flexed and bunched as he worked, mesmerizing Kim in a way she hadn’t considered.

He turned to her then, the flame from the candle highlighting his greenish-hazel eyes. How had she never noticed the way they reminded her of an open sunny pasture?

“Kim?”

“What?” she gasped, startled.

“I asked if you wanted any. You could use some fattening up,” he joked. “I think you’re about the size of a bird.”

Unbeknownst to her, Bulk had not missed the way the flickering candlelight accentuated her curves and traced her bare breasts under the flimsy top. Trying mightily to avert his eyes, he attempted to busy his mind with thoughts of tomorrow’s meals and how to attempt to tidy Zack’s rooms without triggering a breakdown.

A small hand settled on his forearm. Glancing down, Bulk mused that he liked her delicate nails this way, natural and clean, compared to the long, pink painted princess claws she used to sport.

“I’m cold,” she whispered softly, her eyes soft.

“Well of course you are, Kimmy. Standing in here in nothing but a thin nightshirt,” he tried to scold but instead stuttered, his cheeks warming.

“Bulk,” the Slayer murmured, very meek and feminine in a way she hadn’t been able to be in decades. “Will you help me get warm again?”

Tiny teeth nibbled a plush lower lip.

The man’s face softened, his eyes sweeping over her small but powerful frame. It was almost hard to believe this was the fearsome Ranger Slayer, so little and vulnerable before him in her thin garment, face pale even under the candle’s light.

Without a word, he swept Kimberly into his arms, hard muscle deceptively hidden in his teddy bear cuddliness. A real bear under the guise of a soothing lovey. To think that all along, these sterling, heroic qualities had gone undeveloped and dormant, taking the act of a near apocalypse to soar to the surface!

He had always been here, right under nose this whole time.

Bulk felt the crush of breasts against his chest, his hands sliding around the swell of her hips.

‘Careful, careful, careful,’ he repeated over and over in his mind. ‘Don’t crush her.’

The pair remained locked in the tight embrace, backlit by the soft, flickering candle. Her fingertips crept up the soft plane of his cheek, causing him to gasp in surprise and, to his embarrassment, arousal.

‘Way to go, Farkas! Real smooth!’

Looking down into her heart-shaped face, he felt at war with himself. These feelings were strong and not just because of the physical proximity of their genitalia. Bulk was seen as the de facto secondhand man, Kimberly’s ‘enforcer’ by some, her guard dog, much like Red, by others. No matter how you cut it, his name closely followed hers in the self-enforced hierarchy of survivors.

It was what they knew.

A brush of lips and Bulk knew he was a goner. Big and strong, yet utterly helpless in this moment under the Ranger Slayer’s attention. Returning her kiss was a touch of unreality. This kiss was unlike any he’d ever had before.

When Kimberly slowly pulled her face away and gazed at him with eyes that said everything, Bulk weakly tried to ascertain this was actually happening and not a crazy, stressed-induced wet dream.

“We should probably stop this,” he whispered, his heart thundering in his chest.

Her doe eyes continued to stare with intensity at his lips.

“Yeah,” she answered absently, unconsciously moistening her mouth for another round.

“We’re not going to though, right?”

He barely had time to register the soft “Oh absolutely not” before her lips crashed into his own for more.

This time, Bulk’s arms scooped Kimberly into the air, her toned bare legs locking around his hips. One large hand dropped to her thigh, running a reverent caress over the smooth skin. Helping to hold her place, the blonde man easily carried her this way across the threshold into the empty hall, where scones still blazed along the walls.

“The throne room,” she rasped between tastes of his tongue.

Growling in understanding, Bulk moved down the corridor, arriving at the large double doors and kicking them open roughly. The hinges creaked loudly, desperate for a spurt of oil to ease their turn, but the pair didn’t notice. The long carpet runner with its ornate and intricate weavings muffled their footsteps as they approached Drakkon’s former slab throne.

Fingers gliding over her buttocks to ease her down into the chair, Bulk hissed when he realized Kimberly was not wearing underwear.

“Missing something?” he groaned, nipping her lips.

“Right now, not a thing,” she answered, nearly screaming out loud when his thick tongue gave a slow lick to her cunt on the tyrant’s chilly throne, the rough stone gritty against her bare ass cheeks.

“Fuck!”

Bulk’s tongue slithered between her lips, taking breaks when his mouth sucked the wet skin provocatively. The Slayer moaned and writhed on the symbol of the asshole’s reign, hoping the fucker was looking up at them from hell. Defiling his fucking throne was a good start to snuff out his cruelty and bloodthirsty rage.

It was only fitting that she and Bulk were the ones exchanging fluids in this room. Back in their Ranger days, when Tommy’s wrath had him constantly chasing Jason like a bitch in heat, both Bulk and Skull had tied for number two on his ‘shit list’ right under the Red Ranger. The Green Ranger went out of his way to be antagonistic with the pair, maybe not on the level he operated with Jase, but enough to be noticeable.

Her slender fingers found their way to her breasts as the powerful man buried himself between her thighs, feasting on the sweet liquid that seemed to flow now so freely.

“God, I need this, Bulk, you have no idea!” Kimberly squealed, hips bucking into his face.

Lifting his head, the blonde licked his lips, fingers digging into her flesh.

“If you’re sure, Kim…”

Eyes blazing as she stared up at Bulk, the Slayer snarled.

“Put it in me. Now. Fuck away the disgusting memories that took place in this room! No more blood and death in here ever again!”

Shoving himself up from the tasty offering, Bulk loosened his soft trousers, erection springing into the cool air as he dropped the garment to puddle at his bare feet. It was an impressive length and girth, already suffused with a dusky red hue and a leaking tip.

Kimberly stared at it, wide eyed in amazement. Too bad the fucking prick Drakkon was dead. He’d have cracked his molars gritting his jaw in jealousy. She knew for a fact that the tyrant wasn’t this well-endowed; not shy in his nudity, he had strutted about his rooms in the buff from time to time.

“Oh wow!” she marveled before she could catch herself.

Bulk blushed. He didn’t see how he would ever fit in such a tiny woman. What if he hurt her?

“I’ll be careful, Kimmy,” he whispered. “I know this looks like an instrument of torture to most ladies…”

But the Slayer was already shaking her head.

“It’s perfect.”

Taking the utmost caution and tenderness, the breathless man eased the wet head of his cock into Kimberly’s quivering body. The woman hissed slightly and tilted her head back, eyes closed.

“Too much?”

“No, keep going,” she answered, eager for more.

Bulk continued until his partner felt sufficiently full and comfortable. Mindful to keep his own hormones in check, at least until Kim was more comfortable with his proportions, he gently rocked his hips into her, rocking her hanging head with each thrust.

Time seemed to pause in this silent, dark room, once so full of pain, blood, and fear. Lives had ended here.

It was time to start over. Christen this room with an act of love and caring, then completely gut it down to it’s bare elements. More sunlight, more color, more laughter, more friends.

But later…..

[josiebelladonna]

Do I feel vibrant (in general)?

I’m in pain (from exercising more), so no. I still don’t know what it means to “feel vibrant”, either.

Do I feel sexually desirable?

I have never felt this way in my life. I’ve been working out harder lately and I (finally) hit the 30 pound mark and now my next goal is 20 pounds by turkey day, but again: I’m only thinking about my physical health and getting healthy. Listen, I had swollen feet, a pounding heart, I was prone to migraines, and I was probably prediabetic, too, given diabetes runs in the family. I ain’t thinking about sexiness… whatever that is.

Are my sexual needs being met? (by me, by someone else)

I started my kinktober collection last night because no one else can get it right, but it’s really hard to say. I cringe at my desires, needs, whatever they’re fucking called, especially my belly kink. It’s the one kink that I go way back with and I would be lying if I said talking about it makes me feel so exposed and embarrassed. It’s like coming out, it’s not like a kid’s birthday party: it’s a huge deal.

Do I care about my sexual life?

The fact I keep coming back to this shows that I care about it *enough*. But I can’t say that I care about it so much that I’m losing sleep over the fact that no one is sleeping with me.

What is my comfort level with talking about sex and sexuality and communicating my needs?

Zero comfort. I’m so embarrassed and disgusted with myself.

How am I feeling about my body?

Hard to say. Listen, when I was pushing 270, I actually felt great (minus the swollen feet, of course). Losing weight now, and it’s fascinating how fast I’ve been losing weight (30 pounds in 2 months! I never would have dreamed that would happen).

What is my relationship like with my orgasms?

Nonexistent. I can’t remember the last time I masturbated because, again, there’s no point. I tried doing it again and I stopped because I couldn’t get into it. I don’t care. What is the point of developing an appetite when there is no need for it. There’s no point to developing a sexual appetite, plus I don’t care. I’m too much of a pussy and there are other things to worry about, too. They’re here and gone, too, like what the hell is this whole thing that all women should have these violent screamers after five seconds. Am I really not doing it right? Why should I try and make myself scream when it won’t happen. Why even bother.

What is my connection like with others?

Horrible. It’s been two weeks since the Testament cartoon and it’s still only at 3 likes on my page. Meanwhile, I see people celebrating kids’ birthdays, making massive recoveries, reaching huge milestones, what have you. Go to my page and it looks sad. Do you understand why I have no desire to be there anymore?

I have no faith in my art, either. I’ll just post the collections and be done with it, seeing as that’s all everyone wants from me.

When I think of sex, what comes to mind?

Nothing good or happy. What on earth am I supposed to say to this? I think of all the consequences of being sexually active and that’s all I think about, too. Oh, yeah, herpes and HIV and unwanted pregnancy, yeah, that’s really sexy.

Do I feel tapped into God (Source, Universe)?

lol

*bonus question: What fun am I having in my sexual life?

None. Ooh yeah, exposing yourself to horrific diseases like herpes and gonorrhea and warts, and putting your body and trust in another person when they can readily betray you at any given time for the dumbest and pettiest reasons, yeah, that’s totally fun *gunshot*

I’m terrified of what awaits me for kinktober. I just don’t measure up. The green druidess did a number on me as well as the Rockfic side of the fanfic world: in that brief period from when I came back online to the minute she showed up, it was a little more than a year, it was like Santa Cruz, it was this pre-pandemic/pre-Tiktok/pre-worst of what gen z has to offer era that was still fun and enjoyable. You write fic and go on tumblr because it was fun, not because you wanted to be the next E.L. James or Anna Todd. 

And you could say whatever you wanted (barring you weren’t prejudiced against someone for who they were). People only blocked someone when they personally attacked them through asks or reblogs, not because they had an opinion they didn’t like. I looked at her fic account just now and she and temple haven’t updated in months: i remember the last time i pointed this out she updated something probably just to stick it to me, but i expect her to. People with control issues and a sense of entitlement are weak. I’m bracing myself for this, but what is with women these days? The last couple of times I went grocery shopping, the women were… bitchy to say in the least. Walking around with their noses in the air, rude to their children, looking down at me all because of my pink pants and I’m fucking poor… The men meanwhile? Sweet. Polite. Approachable. Friendly even. It’s like my own gender has very quickly become the very thing they’re accusing men of being: rude, mean, liars, arrogant, bullies, abusers, manipulators, all with a side of victim complex because “we’re women, therefore victims and therefore deserving of special treatment”. There are exceptions, of course, but it’s like the mean, entitled girl is the thing to be now.

I see these new fic writers who are blatantly displaying their quote unquote “raunchy sides” and they’re getting fucking everything. “Ooh, look at me, I’m a sexual being and therefore entitled to special treatment” or the flip side: “ooh, look at me, I’m a minor and therefore entitled to special treatment”. Listen, when I was a minor, I had… some curiosity about sexuality but not a lot. But I never saw it as “harassment” or “abuse”, though: it was just this side of life that was incredibly taboo and inaccessible, like I felt bad just thinking about it .  I couldn’t explore if I wanted to. Plus, I was more focused on learning things, building robots, making cartoons, and trying not to kill myself because my classmates and my dad’s side of the family were all assholes.

No fun. No hope. And no, I don’t deserve shit. Again, I’ll just do it and be done with it. I don’t give a shit if anyone else doesn’t.

[itsmeanyango]

FULL MOON IN SAGITTARIUS MAY 23RD 2024: ASTROLOGY

This is how the full moon in Sagittarius is affecting the collective on a health/biological way. Reach out for personal readings whether in clarification of the following or other readings like card pulls, birth charts, dream analysis etc.

Full moon in Sagittarius in your first house is headache and pressure to the head causing occupational hazard. Massage your head and do breathing exercises. Rest please 🙏🏿

Full moon in Sagittarius in your second house is throat problems. Parched, scratchy or sore. Relax your throat, tone down on singing and talking. Tape your mouth when you sleep, cover your mouth when you cough or yawn.

Full moon in Sagittarius in your third house is pain in your hands. If you're an instrumentalist,you're always typing or writing,you may want to take a three day break or more. Teachers, the marking can wait or get taken slower. Carpal tunnel syndrome.

Full moon in Sagittarius in your fourth house is uterus discomfort. If pregnant REST or you risk serious complications that can lead to pregnancy loss. Especially with this Jupiter in Gemini coming on 26th May that will be I'm your 10th House. If you're on your period, it might be a rough one this time.

Full moon in Sagittarius in your fifth house is pressure in your chest stemming from your heart. Stay away from coffee, carbonated drinks, fatty foods, processed sugars. So some little activity and avoid lying down too long. Drink black tea or other non stimulating teas. I know black tea is a stimulant, but at this time it's the best tea for you. Avoid the relaxing teas. Sing your heart out and listen to dancy music like can't stop the feeling from Trolls. This will help relieve the pressure in your chest that's interfering with blood flow.

Full moon in Sagittarius in the sixth house. Stop taking drugs to fix that stomach issue. Chew and swallow a pea size amount of ginger. Put moringa powder in hot water, mix and drink it while warm , 250ml is enough. Drink black coffee to have a bowel movement. Eat a lot of leafy greens.

Full moon in Sagittarius in the seventh house. That flare up in your skin will pass, you don't need all those products. If you have access to breast milk, ask the mother and apply on your trouble areas. Your skin is also probably rejecting your partner and to some, pregnancy. The pregnancy one has a direct correlation with your skin rejecting your partner.

Full moon in Sagittarius in the eighth house. Yeah, you'll need to get that infection in your private parts checked. Don't have unprotected sex or else you'll learn a very horrible lesson and no this has nothing to do with pregnancy.

Full moon in Sagittarius in the ninth house. Don't trust yourself this time. You're always right but this time wait until the New moon in Gemini, your mind will have changed.

Full moon in Sagittarius in the tenth house. Maybe you shouldn't overwork or strain your bones like that? Someone needs to get their sciatic nerve checked and another their femur.

Full moon in Sagittarius in the eleventh house. You're feeling weird because your blood metal levels are high, go get checked. Stop taking iodine and or zinc, you probably have a certain deficiency and these supplements are destroying you. Get a doctor's second opinion, you probably don't have that disease (mostly cancer).

Full moon in Sagittarius in the twelfth house. You see how women with PMDD tend to want to end themselves before their period then they get their period and go "oh, so that's why". That's the same thing here, it's just the full moon in Sagittarius making things feel and seem so bad in such a convincing manner. Hold on, it will pass. However, you are tasked with working through whatever you're feeling even after this transit has passed, otherwise demons of old will haunt you down.

I hope this is helpful because the energy already started and will persist until after as it slowly wanes into and past the sign of Capricorn.

[thegremlinwhowrites]

1.

B expected an answer. An explanation. One that A could never give, knowing that it would ultimately change their relationship if B knew what they knew. If B understood that A wasn’t such an innocent little soul anymore. The silence that followed could be called suffocating, deafening, a void that needed to be filled, as it was left hanging like a doll on a string. Some image, still, presented itself in their mind. The body; punctured and still-bleeding yet without life that had been discarded as if it were a mere child’s forgotten toy. One that had been loved, and probably could’ve been loved by many more if its fate hadn’t succumbed to this. The body that had been a person. The body that would continue to be left there for the vast majority of its decomposure.

A couldn’t get the image out of their head without willing it away. Previously, before all this shit hit them, they had never needed to ‘will something away’ like they had now grown accustomed to. It came with a cruel, sick disease; black and tarred, chipping away at their sanity slowly but very much surely. They were warned of this, of course, but chose to ignore it with his cat-like curiosity. A would never have that curiosity again. Never.

They swore it.

Their partner stared. Did they have to give an answer? Really? Or was it simple enough to try and cover it up? Surely not, after all this silence had been stretched- only now- uncomfortably long. B was serious now; A could see it in their eyes, how they were searching for an answer that would either be forced out of them, or discovered within the coming weeks. A’s partner had a knack for finding information out of people; prying it even if they were dead. Maybe that was the reality of whoever’s body that was.

And that thought scared them.

Because what if their partner found out? What if, because of their stupid silence, their partner was going to find out that they knew who they were- what they had done- and the threat of their curiosity was now reaching new levels of ’I fucked up’, more than A thought it ever could.

Of course, the possibility of the perpertrator to these crimes finding out about A was a very distinctive, and terrifying, thought that made their head swim for the last couple of weeks. And now they were drowning, knowing that their lover; the one person of whom had always believed them, without any thoughts of doubt, was now the one they were afraid of the most.

That love that they held was suffocating as much as it was frustrating. It was terrifying as much as it was… thrilling? Oh god, why was a part of them looking forward to it?? To the very high chance that they would be killed by their lover savagely, without a thought of remorse.

How else could B look into their eyes with a peturbed love if they had any ounce of remorse?

Just like how A was avoiding their gaze, coffee cup in hand, dreading the mere thought of sleeping in the same bed as them that night. It was like they were being stirred up, their image distorting until it finally smoothed down into one, single line.

Their lover stood with a soft sigh. Shoulders back, tension rushing in crowds to click in between their joints. Crunched. Their words cut through them, dragging them violently from their thoughts and throwing A back down to Earth. “I think its been a long day, too long for the both of us; and you look exhausted.” A nod. “My love,” B began, and at some point they had gotten close enough that their smooth hand was able to gently tip A’s head up, but it wasn’t a dangerous gesture; and somehow, with the calm of their voice and the caring nature shown to them, A took a deep breath and finally reached their eyes and held contact. “Whatever it may be, I’m sure we can figure it out. No matter how long it takes. Okay?”

Not okay. Not okay at all.

“Yeah. Okay.” A felt the tremble in their voice, and how it must’ve felt like a stab in the heart to B. And just like a follower to a god, they wanted to repent for all of their sins in exchange for forgiveness.

This monster had been their lover, after all. Was still their lover. Despite whatever hate may be growing for them now, it would be hard to ever forget the way they smiled when the sun settled for the night. The way they would give them more than just a shoulder to lean on; their whole body. The way that they would leave a room immediately with A if they ever felt too overwhelmed. The way that they were kissing A, so tenderly that it made them want to melt into B’s arms and forgive them for whatever they crime they committed as long as B would stay with them.

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

@prompts-in-a-barrel I dont know how old or new this prompt is, but I enjoyed writing it to try and get on tumblr again; so thank you. I may or may not have delved into the main plot I was going for (and had planned out) but I do like the way it turned out.

I imagine this to be a gruesome plot, hence the hanging body, with A being the villain's journalist lover that stepped a bit too far into a case that they didn't know involved B.

[anxiousxdreamer]

oh boy! my liver is too fucking fat! just like the rest of me! gonna sound probably a bit disordered so yknow. if you read my ranting be careful. no seriously i swung right out of the gate with it

the temptation to just. never eat again is so strong. it wouldn't work, i despise feeling hungry on a nuclear level, and i know that is actually WORSE for me than just "hey, drink less sugar, eat more actual fruits and veg. an only plant based diet can be really good, but for some people that feels drastic" and like i'm not MARRIED to meat, i could go without, but the problem is i hate fucking changing shit and if i drink basically just water and low sugar coffee i will LOSE MY MIND. it's BORING. i fucking HATE just water. the temptation to just let my liver progress into cirrhosis and eventual liver failure or heart disease is just as strong. I just. Really fuckikng hate changing shit. Everything that's whole grains or whole fruit and veg or whole this and whole that is more EXPENSIVE and I can barely do what i'm doing now. i dont wanna be restricted in what i eat, which is just whiny bitch baby talk, and of course there's also "shifting your metabolism into a weight loss state can be helpful" THAT'S CALLED BEING FUCKING HUNGRY IN MY BOOK. i'm not good at any of this shit, meal planning and healthy looking and shit. i can't afford to be fucking HUNGRIER. and what about cereal? i barely have the energy to prepare that in the morning i'm not gonna start making fruit bowls and shit. i hate this. i hate my stupid fat fuck body. oh yeah i know i'm supposed to fucking. learn not to see fat as something that makes me less of a person or whatever but i sure fucking feel like it!! i'm not a person i'm just a sack of fat and bad habits. i feel sick. i feel like i'm doomed to die of liver bullshit because i can't not drink a fucking mountain of soda. whatever. i know what to do in text but i dont know what the fuck to do in reality. fucking hell

the fuck am i supposed to drink if i cant drink FUN shit (soda. juice. shit like that. alcohol i don't mind doing even less of, it already fucks up my acid reflux)

[whatib]

Yummy food is bad for you

IMO I don't think we're being "poisoned", we might be eating food and beverages that cause certain ailments, but we're still living longer than ever. Yeah it's not the healthiest foods, but we love it and we live an awfully long time eating this garbage. For some stupid reason I have to have a Burger King bacon cheeseburger at least once ever year or so. Soda pop definitely leads to tooth decay, diabetes, and who knows what else. But the bottom line is they're pushing this garbage food on us that leads to having ailments that the medical industry is happy to provide daily medication for, for the rest of your life. It's all a money making machine that is unstoppable. You can only take care of and educate yourself and your family. Other than that, people will eat whatever they like to eat, regardless of the health issues it might lead to...although on another note, according to the CDC, Harvard studies, Oxford studies, Science magazine and Nature magazine, the after effects of catching Covid include a 40% higher risk of diabetes, 60% higher risk of heart disease, an increased risk of lung and liver disease, and an exponentially increased risk of neurological disease such as Alzheimer's. Covid exacerbates any disease that your body might have been prone to be affected by later in life. If you were probably going to get Cancer at age 72 then after catching Covid you might get Cancer at age 62. The more times you catch Covid, the worse off you are physically. Basically the more you catch Covid, the shorter your life span will be, because Covid is relentlessly attacking your organs. I now know more than a dozen people that have had Covid three or more times. We need to stop this carefree attitude of not fearing Covid, and stick to the only practice that will help us avoid Covid...social distancing, keeping your hands and face clean, and wearing glasses. They don't seem to want to push this to the world, but there was a study done in late 2020 that compared people who wear glasses to those that don't. There is a substantial drop in Covid cases among people who wear glasses. Why? Because you can catch Covid via the mouth, nose and eyes. I personally feel we're laughing each other to death by laughing in each others faces. Strange way to terminate the human race...."they laughed themselves to death"...oh well. You can give up on the System, you can give up on the People, but Never Give Up on Yourself.

[featherymainffins]

Like uuuh this usually just happens the same way my usual character design "Blond Long-haired lanky fanatic with elements of nature" happens.

But sometimes, in the fashion of Hell Portal Hospital, I make a character who is totally fucked, and since they're totally fucked they're usually malnourished and underweight. And sometimes if they end up not being fucked (not often), they gain some weight. And it isn't even a trope I'm aware of, it just...happens. The same way the aforementioned blond lanky lunatic just keeps happening.

Watch this:

my DA:I Inquisitor: actually the freshest case of this but the easiest to explain. A classic case of "Testosterone could have saved him." Adabdo of clan Lavellan (fake name Solovyov) is resentful, mean, prone to destroying others and herself. She's a moose with chronic wasting disease. She's a vampire bat. She doesn't stand for anything, doesn't believe in anything (ok she DOES have some unhinged political beliefs but the specifics are irrelevant), she says whatever is the most convenient. She doesn't really care if the world burns and while she admires capacity for violence, she also considers everyone as capable as her a competition and a threat. She feels horrible and isn't sure why. She feels vengeful and full of hate and doesn't really get why. She doesn't take care of herself. She's skin and bones; a rabid animal that wants to bite and tear and dominate. But then Adabdo realises that he's a guy and as he gets more comfortable with himself he kinda...chills out. Not 100%, of course, but he does go "Actually my hatred towards the world as a whole may have been a bit too strong. Also perhaps I shouldn't be fantasy-racist. But I can have a liiiiittle bit of fundamentalism. As a treat." And he dusts off his hair and lets it grow out and he's no longer a walking dagger aimed at your heart, and he ends up being...well not fully plus-size I believe, but he's probably at the higher end of the "healthy BMI" range. He's normal now and feels ok in his body and he's comfortable with himself and doesn't feel the need to be a walking talking razor.

one of my Hazbin Hotel OCs: Yeah ok so I initially forgot about this one because I thought about the OCs for like 5 minutes and then went "Damn I kinda...don't care actually." And I'm much more obsessed about my Dungeon Meshi OCs now. But uh yeah I technically speaking have several OCs and one of them is Dolly, who got into Hell for being a cannibal, but honestly good for her? Because she has a bit of a Lisa DBD thing going on, like she killed and ate her captor, who was starving her and abusing her. And then she killed and ate anyone who came to investigate. Which I guess may have been a little uncalled for but uh you know, why waste good meat I guess??? Iirc she has always been plus size though, like a lot of bodies react to food scarcity by making as many energy reserves as they can, so idk if she's actually an example of this. She's a capable woman who is deaf but can play the lute because she learned the theory and she really likes to feel the vibrations of the strings. People tend to underestimate her due to her deafness, which she utilises to her and her girlfriend's advantage (oh yeah she has a girlfriend, Frilled Shark aka Frill, alive name Agatha; a loanshark who's trying to erase her past and make it into something that never was; she's stuck in everything she never was and fights against the current of time)

Chatterbird Corporations: Ok this is complicated. So uh Chatterbird Corporations actually features several characters with various body issues and/or identity problems. But the one who is an example of this specifically is Thomas Dallaghan. Dallaghan's whole deal is that he's a big guy but after Chatterbird starts abusing him, he falls into a depressive stressed-out slump and loses a ton of weight. He's severely underweight for most of the story, since Chatterbird is alive most of the time. But whenever she is out of the picture, he gains at least some of his weight back. So for him, his weight is directly tied to his mental health. Which is completely lost on Chatterbird because she has never noticed anything that wasn't strategically advantageous to her. I think Dallaghan might actually develop an eating disorder later because I think that'd be fucked up. But idk. I feel like there might not be time for such down to Earth problems. We're solving the ship of Theseus and the question of what makes someone a human being and if that is something you should want in the first place. Like get in the car, loser, we're discussing at what point copies of one person become two separate people and if it happens by fate or by choice. No time for eating disorders in this place.

For some reason I cannot place, yesterday I was convinced that I wrote a particular trope 3 times but I'm pretty sure I did it twice, not 3 times???

What does yesterday me know that I don't???

[feelingsaph]

Dream, being the embodiment of all things fictional, is probably the source of all kinds of fictional diseases. But these diseases aren’t something he created consciously like his dreams and nightmares. They’re his feelings taking form. I wouldn’t be surprised his powers would amp up those feelings and manifest them into something potentially devastating. And because these diseases are a manifestation of his emotions taking over his powers, he can’t just wave it away like he would with his other creations.

An example of a fictional disease he created is Hanahaki (花吐き病). Hanahaki is a disease caused by unrequited love. Flowers bloom in the victim’s lungs and heart, suffocating them and making them cough out petals. There are only two ends for someone with hanahaki: their affections are returned, therefore curing them, or they die from coughing out the flowers and blood or suffocation.

Not a very subtle illness, huh?

Now hear me out;

After 133 years of not seeing his friend, ending their last meeting on terrible terms, and missing the last appointment (through no fault of his own but his friend couldn’t have known that), Morpheus approaches The New Inn with his heart pounding in his ears. Their old date rendezvous spot has been demolished, leaving only this unfamiliar place. There’s a chance Hob might not be here. Would Hob really be waiting for him in here? Worse, does he still want to see him after last time?

Luckily, the sight of Hob sitting at the corner stopped Morpheus from psyching himself out of there. And when Hob looked up to him with the warm smile he always gives him after all this time, Morpheus’s heart can’t help but flutter. And it’s not just from the relief that Hob still considers him his friend.

All is right with the world. Their talk may have been 33 years overdue, but with Hob’s ever-present sunny disposition and years worth of updates to give, Morpheus finds himself relaxing and smiling more than usual. No, he didn’t grin, and if Hob thought he did, well he’s wrong—

“… And I’ve been seeing someone for the last year or so.”

Morpheus freezes. “Oh?”

“Yeah, her name is Audrey,” Hob chuckles fondly, “She’s the first person I’ve been with since Peg, and who knows how long that’s been. I think you’d like her—“

Of course he’s with someone. It’d be selfish of Morpheus to wish otherwise. After all, they’re just friends, right? It took all of 633 years for Morpheus to finally accept Hob’s friendship, and he wouldn’t want to ruin it now by adding his… whatever this is, into their newly amended relationship. Besides, they’ve got all of eternity to spend together, right? Even though it might never be in that context since Hob has never shown interest in being with him, or other men for that matter…

Oh no.

The intrusive thoughts rushing forward following the sharp pang in his chest causes Morpheus to cough into his hands rather violently. Hob stops his ramble for a second and gives him a concerned look.

“Dream? Are you alright? I’ll get you some water.” Hob slides out of his seat and heads to the bartender before Morpheus could stop him.

Morpheus clears his throat and observes what’s in the palm of his hand. A moonflower petal. Wonder what that could be about…

---

Now, Dream probably won’t die from this disease because he’s Endless, but I imagine it would be inconvenient as hell to be choking on whole flowers while he’s trying to act natural in front of his ‘friend’.

Or what if, instead of Dream experiencing hanahaki himself, his subjects are the ones getting infected by it and slowly dying like the castle retainers were in Beauty and the Beast unless he deals with his feelings?

There’s a lot to think about here.

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EDIT 1: Shout-out to @hellfridge for turning me to Midnight in Bloom by @aeon-of-neon , a hanahaki Dreamling fic with its own sexy twist. Thank you @hellfridge! Guess I know what I'll be reading tonight 😆