#and i can be like “You’re a terrible person

[tooturtly]

Just so ppl know it does get better! I didn’t really have friends from ages 13-18, and even before then I always felt a little different (gay and neurodivergent). And yeah, it sucked. I thought I was doing everything right. I talked to people in class, I did extracurriculars, I was involved. But nobody was texting me unless it was about something school related. I wasn’t invited to anybody’s house. Twice the people I ate lunch with made homecoming plans but never invited me, I just showed up bc of how much they talked about it.

It finally took seeing the group of people I thought were my friends really overtly reject an openly neurodivergent guy from the friend group. Why? Because he talked too much, he was too sincere. It wasn’t any fault of his own. When I hung out with him in a smaller group, I had a blast. And I realized it wasn’t his fault or mine, but the people who I didn’t even like that much who were pushing me away. They were doing the same thing to both of us, and I should be pissed about it! (I still am, even know people change, it was still a shitty thing to do)

My senior year I finally put myself first and realized that having bad friends was worse than being alone. And I might as well be alone on my terms. I went to homecoming and prom by myself, I wore my own weird clothes and danced by myself just to have fun. I realized that going with those people had made me have less fun, because they hardly wanted to dance to the music if they didn’t know the song. I decided I was going to have fun and be my own person.

The only people I had who were friends were the older people at the game shop I went to. They were kind and patient with me when I didn’t know all the rules, and I’ve since lost touch with them but everyday I’m thankful that I had them in my life. Thank you for taking care of this weird teenager who was too loud and too pushy, and who you guided anyway! Thank you for humoring me!

And then I did find lasting friends. I graduated high school and found a group of amazing, nerdy, goofy people who I clicked with. We play D&D together, we eat together often, we share our stories, we talk and we laugh, we have inside jokes.

As I’ve gotten older I know I still have those moments. Even with my closest friends, I have doubts and anxieties about if they actually like me, if I’m a good and kind enough person to be able to sustain a friendship. Sometimes I think maybe I’m better off alone, because then any hurt I cause will only be me. I’ve never had friends before, I don’t know anything! Sometimes I think I’m too full of hurt to do anything but hurt. But I don’t trust those thoughts! My brain lies to me all the time! Those terrible twisted feelings never come from me, they come from a me that doesn’t know anything but pain and sorrow. I’m an entirely different person when the depression hits, and I’ve learned enough not to trust how I feel in those moments.

I know that I’m trying and my friends know it too. I’m not purposefully mean, I make amends when I make mistakes, which is all you can do because everyone makes mistakes. And I think about how much sadder my life would be without my support network. I would be miserable! Yeah I can do it alone, but I don’t want to! Doing it alone sucks! I love my friends! I don’t want to let them go, and they want me around. If my friends didn’t want me around, they’d tell me to pack it. Yet I’ve continued making friends, I find fun and weird people everywhere!

Fuck it, I’m gonna be me as much as I can! Life is terrible when you’re pretending to be someone else. And I’ve been lucky enough to find space irl where I can be me. If you can’t do that in person, go online, find community anywhere you can get it. I know I learned a lot from lurking online in high school.

My friends love me even though I have flaws, and I love them even though they have flaws. Including the anxiety and self doubt! Loving with flaws is human. Confidence is your armor against that self doubt. Even if it’s fake! Say fuck it and love your life, love yourself! The world is beautiful! Life is beautiful in those small moments laughing, in talking, in smiling.

Yes this is optimistic positivity! Because pessimism made me sad and being sad does not make you want to live! And I want to live. I made the choice once to live as much as I can. God’s tried to kill me twice and he has failed so far, so I will dance through life laughing.

I can still be depressed and I can still laugh! I can be lonely sometimes and still have friends! I can know that there’s always light at the end of the tunnel if I smile and greet the darkness as my friend.

On Isolation

[outofrealms]

Isekai’d as the Demon King’s Therapist

Synopsis: Y/N is summoned to a fantasy world… not as a hero, but as the Demon King’s personal therapist. Turns out, the Demon King has major burnout and trust issues from all the hero invasions.

Introduction

A lavish, dark throne room that looks like it belongs in an edgy heavy metal music video. Black marble everywhere, skull chandeliers, fire pits lining the walls. The Demon King Zarvath sits on a massive obsidian throne, looking bored and annoyed.

Y/N (calmly): “So… you’re feeling burned out?”

Demon King Zarvath (raises an eyebrow): “Obviously. Do you know how exhausting it is to manage an entire army, conquer kingdoms, and keep up with centuries of family expectations?”

Y/N casually pulls out a clipboard.

Y/N: “Right. Classic work-life imbalance. Let’s start by identifying your stress triggers. What is the most frustrating part of your job?”

Zarvath (leans forward, eyes glowing red): “Heroes.”

His voice echoes menacingly, shaking the room.

Zarvath: “Every week, some idiot with a sword barge in, shouting about destiny and justice. Do you know how many times I’ve been stabbed in the chest this month? Four. FOUR TIMES.”

Y/N: (nods sympathetically): “Sounds rough. Have you ever considered setting boundaries?”

Zarvath: “Boundaries?”

Y/N: “Yeah, like… telling the heroes they need to schedule appointments. Maybe setting up a sign at the castle gate: ‘No walk-ins after 5 PM.’”

Zarvath strokes his chin, intrigued.

Zarvath: “Huh. That’s… not a terrible idea.”

He snaps his fingers, summoning an imp.

Zarvath: “Implement this. Make the sign ominous but professional.”

Y/N: “Good start! Now, let’s talk about self-care. What do you do to unwind?”

Zarvath: “Unwind?”

He looks confused, as if the word is foreign to him.

Y/N: “Yeah, hobbies. Interests. Anything that makes you happy.”

Zarvath: “I… crush rebellions?”

Y/N: “Mm, okay. Let’s find something a bit less… violent. Have you ever tried painting?”

Zarvath (suspicious): “Painting?”

Y/N: “Yeah. It’s surprisingly therapeutic. Plus, you can paint your enemies being defeated. Very cathartic.”

Zarvath: “...Interesting.”

He leans back on his throne, imagining it.

Zarvath: “Fine. I will paint. But if this doesn’t reduce my stress levels, I’ll burn your village to the ground.”

Y/N (unfazed): “Deal. Let’s meet again in a week to check on your progress. Try journaling, too.”

The imp returns with a fresh scroll.

Imp: “Master, the ominous-but-professional sign is ready.”

Zarvath: “Good. What does it say?”

Imp (reading): “‘BY APPOINTMENT ONLY. HEROES WHO IGNORE THIS WILL BE SMITED WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE.’”

Y/N: “Perfect. You’re already setting healthier boundaries.”

[revelboo]

Could we maybe get some more IDW Ratchet please? 🥺🙏

Sure!

Feel Like Rain Pt 5

IDW Ratchet x Reader

• “Height okay?” He asks, hands out but not touching you, just hovering close by. Ready to catch you if you fall as his spark constricts watching you lean your weight on the makeshift crutch Wheeljack had fashioned for you at his request. Take a wobbly step. With your other arm also hurt, you can only use one for now and you offer him a tired smile before your jaw grits and you manage another slow, awkward step.

• You’ve barely hobbled three steps and you’re already shaking, sweat beading on your skin as your body screams at you to stop. The leg won’t take your weight at all, yet. Probably needs a cast. “Yeah. It’s good.” And there’s your stomach, pain sliding into the threat to throw up if you don’t take it easy. “Think I overdid it.” And those gentle hands cup you, easing you carefully down among the nest of blankets he’s made you. “Thanks.”

• “There’s no need to push yourself,” he mutters gruffly as you just slump backwards in your nest and taking a deep, shuddering breath. Understands, though. If it was him, he’d be trying to get up and about. There’s always so much to do and he doesn’t have the time to take care of himself and everyone else. Watches your breathing even out as you swallow convulsively, eyes shut. Venting, he reaches to flip your hair away from your face and you catch his servo with your good hand.

• “I’m a terrible patient, huh?” Amused as he just freezes at your touch, you guess you’d be a little freaked out about a teeny, little injured person under your care, too. Someone small enough you could pick them up in one hand. “I know you have other stuff to do besides worry over me,” you add, letting your hand slide off of his servo. You’ve been watching him, the way he’s always in motion like he can’t stop. And the times he does, his servos faintly tremble. He’s told you little bits and pieces. That his people are at war. That they crash landed here and are in hiding now. And that they need to remain secret.

• Rumbling softly, he wets a cloth and pinches it between his servos, dabbing at your forehead as you look up at him. “It’s quiet right now,” he growls. “As long as Wheeljack doesn’t blow himself up, I don’t have anything more pressing to tend to.” And it’s guilt making him dote on you, because he should have entrusted your care to your own kind, but he’d found you. Pulled you broken and bleeding from the wreck and if he took you in, he’d never have known if you’d survived. Your life would have been out of his hands and maybe, the human medics would have fought for you. Saved you and took care of you, but you’d needed him and he hadn’t been able to just give you to someone else and hope for the best.

Previous

[solxamber]

I loved the platonic Malleus helps Yuu get Idia fic and I was wondering if you could so something similar with Cater or Trey or Vil or Leona or Floyd? You can choose, anything like that would be amazing my liege.

you asked and i answered, i love this concept so much

Fae Courtship 101: Romance for Dummies || Floyd Leech

In your desperation to confess to Floyd, you made the grave mistake of recruiting Malleus for help—now the only thing you’re courting is death.

For reasons beyond mortal comprehension—beyond your own comprehension—you have fallen for Floyd Leech.

Floyd. Leech.

The man who treats personal space like a suggestion, bites people for fun, and once chased a first-year across campus while laughing like a slasher villain because he was “bored.”

The man who once tried to sell you to Azul in exchange for a really nice hat. The man who could, at any given moment, be contemplating something as simple as “what’s for lunch” or something as horrifyingly chaotic as “what if I threw the prefect off the third-floor balcony to see how they bounce?”

It’s a bad idea. Objectively, scientifically, in every single way, this is a mistake.

Grim and Deuce have been holding interventions. The ghosts of Ramshackle have been looking at you like they’re already preparing to welcome you into their ranks. You're rapidly losing the moral high ground in any discussion about Ace’s bad life choices.

But the heart wants what it wants. And unfortunately, yours wants to make terrible decisions.

Which brings you here, pacing alongside Malleus Draconia, crown prince of Briar Valley, king of ominous nighttime strolls, and your designated therapist for the evening.

“I just—I don’t get it, Malleus!” you wail, gesturing wildly as you stomp through the moonlit campus. “I should like normal people! People who don’t consider attempted murder to be a love language! I should have instincts!”

Malleus hums in thought. “Hm. Concerning.”

“Exactly!” You throw your hands up. “I should be running in the opposite direction! Instead, I’m over here, wondering if he’d bite me gently if I asked nicely!”

Malleus stops walking.

You stop too, looking over to see him gazing at you with a carefully neutral expression. There’s a brief silence. A beat. And then, slowly—gravely—he nods.

“Understood.”

You blink. “...Huh?”

He turns to you with the air of a man who has just accepted a sacred duty. “You have chosen a perilous path, Child of Man.”

You stare. “I—??"

“But fear not,” he continues, raising a hand to his chest in solemn promise. “I shall help you attain your romance.”

Silence.

A breeze rolls through the courtyard. A crow caws in the distance. Somewhere, Grim is experiencing a deep sense of foreboding.

“…You’re going to what?”

Malleus nods again, expression determined. “Leave it to me.”

You suddenly have so many regrets.

Grim looks at you the way a doctor looks at a patient about to flatline. Gravely. With pity. With deep concern for the irreversible damage.

"Okay, listen hench-human, I’ve let a lot of things slide, but this? This I gotta ask—do you hate life that much?"

You blink at him. "What?"

Grim waves his little paws dramatically. "First, you fall for Floyd of all people. That’s already a death wish. And now, you’re actually listening to Malleus for dating advice? What’s next? You gonna ask Kalim for tips on financial responsibility?!"

You open your mouth. Close it. You… okay, you really have no defense. But before you can say anything—

There’s a knock at the door.

And you don’t even have to guess who it is.

You open it to find Malleus standing there, his expression set in earnest determination. In his hands is a book that looks older than your grandmother. The kind of ancient tome that looks like it holds dark secrets, forbidden spells, possibly even a recipe for soup made from human souls.

Standing right next to him, grinning like a goblin, is Lilia.

You feel your soul leave your body.

"Ah, Child of Man," Malleus intones. "I have found it. The ultimate guide to fae courtship rituals. You shall use these techniques to win the heart of your eel."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Lilia cackles. "Do you know how long it's been since I’ve seen these methods in action? The devastation! The absolute carnage!"

You stare at them. You stare into the abyss. The abyss grins back.

Grim looks at you, his face a perfect picture of someone watching a loved one make the worst life decisions in real time.

"You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

…You sigh. "Yeah. I’m really doing this."

You are simply minding your own business, walking to class like a normal person, when you spot Floyd approaching from the other end of the hallway.

As always, you smile at him, because you have fully accepted your fate as a fool with horrible taste in men. You expect him to either grin back or threaten to suplex you for fun—classic Floyd things.

What you do not expect is the sudden sensation of a phantom hand shoving you forward.

And just like that, gravity wins.

You crash into Floyd with all the grace of a drunk goose, smacking into his chest with enough force to send both of you stumbling. Floyd barely moves (because he is built like a problem), but you rebound like a cartoon character, nearly falling over before his hands land heavily on your shoulders.

For a brief, dizzying moment, you stare at him.

Then, slowly, your brain remembers what just happened, and you whip around—

Only to see Malleus standing at the end of the hallway, looking extremely pleased with himself.

He gives you a smug, regal nod.

He is also holding a book titled "How to Romance for Dummies."

You are going to throw hands with a literal prince.

Before you can implode, Floyd’s grip on your shoulders tightens. You turn back to him, only to find him looking entirely too displeased about being your impromptu landing pad.

“Shriiiimpy,” he drawls, squinting at you like a judge in a courtroom drama. “What’s up with that, huh? Tryna tackle me first thing in the morning?”

“I—I tripped!” you stammer, trying to collect the shreds of your dignity. “I didn’t mean to crash into you, I swear!”

Floyd hums, unconvinced. Then, after a beat of consideration, he shrugs.

“Aaah, whatever.” His fingers dig just slightly into your shoulders, a slow grin stretching across his face. “You still ran into me, soooo… you owe me.”

You blink. “Wait. Owe you?”

“Mhm!” His grin widens, teeth sharp. “Now ya gotta hang out with me today.”

You blink again. Slowly. You could argue, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it won’t get you anywhere, and honestly? Maybe this is exactly the opening you need.

Maybe… Malleus isn’t that bad at this.

You take that last thought back immediately.

Because not even a day after that whole hallway fiasco, Malleus finds you again, pulls you aside with all the gravitas of an ancient ruler about to bestow divine wisdom, and insists that, in order to properly court Floyd, you must—

Compliment Floyd’s strength three times. At first, you thought, okay, easy enough, I can just tell him he’s strong and call it a day. But then—THEN—Malleus, in his infinite wisdom, handed you a quill and parchment and declared, “It must be in verse. Poetry carries the weight of true devotion.”

And now, here you are.

Standing in front of Floyd Leech. Holding a piece of paper with the most cringe-inducing attempt at poetry you've ever written in your life.

Floyd, to his credit, was already giggling the moment you approached with a look of sheer suffering. But when you clear your throat and attempt to actually read the thing—

"Oh mighty Floyd, with hands so bold—"

He just. Loses it.

Absolutely wheezing, doubling over, practically using you as a support beam to keep himself upright.

You glare at him and continue, determined to power through:

"A force unmatched, a tale retold—"

Floyd: "PFT—!!!"

He’s straight-up crying at this point. Tears. You swear you hear Jade laugh somewhere in the distance.

You don’t even make it to the third compliment. You just turn on your heel and walk away before your soul crumples in on itself like a dying star.

Malleus, watching from afar, sighs in clear disappointment. “You lack dedication,” he murmurs, shaking his head like an elder watching the youth fail at life.

You absolutely regret everything.

You don't know why you keep letting Malleus give you advice. Actually, no—that's a lie. You do know. It's because the second he heard you liked Floyd, his eyes lit up like he’d just been given a personal quest by the divine forces of romance, and now he refuses to rest until your love is secured.

Unfortunately, this means you are currently locked in yet another horrendous discussion about fae courting rituals.

"Scent-marking is a vital step in courtship," Malleus declares with the kind of grim authority that should be reserved for battlefields, not this. "He must recognize you as his."

You blink at him. "Oh, like giving him my hoodie or something?" That’s normal. That’s doable. That’s the kind of thing people do when they like each other, right? You’ve seen couples swap sweaters before. Maybe Malleus is finally onto something not-insane.

Malleus shakes his head gravely. "No. You must present him with something you have personally scented. Ideally, by rolling upon it."

Silence.

Rolling upon it.

You stare at him. He stares back. Completely serious.

You try to process what he’s just suggested. What he has just, with full sincerity, told you to do.

"Malleus."

"Yes?"

"You want me to roll around on an object like a dog and then give it to Floyd."

"Precisely."

You briefly consider just walking into the ocean.

It takes twenty full minutes to talk him down from this absolute lunacy and convince him that simply giving Floyd a sweater you’ve worn will do the job just fine. He looks at you the way a disappointed coach looks at a failing athlete.

"If you are not dedicated to the craft," he mutters, "you cannot expect great results."

You pretend you don’t hear him.

Fast forward to the next day, and you are sitting in class next to Floyd, who is draped over his desk in a deep and powerful boredom coma.

You pull out the sweater and awkwardly nudge it toward him.

"Here."

Floyd immediately perks up. Dangerously interested. He tilts his head, peering at the sweater like you’ve just handed him a rare treasure.

"Eh? What's this?"

"It's mine. You can have it," you say, trying to play it cool, despite the fact that your entire soul is trying to flee your body from embarrassment.

Floyd picks up the sweater and—without hesitation—presses his face into it.

You almost die. Right then and there. Instant expiration.

He leans back in his chair, grinning way too wide. "Heheh~ You smell nice, shrimpy~"

You barely manage to hold onto your composure. You are barely hanging on.

Malleus, watching from the hallway, narrows his eyes and mutters, "It is not the worst effort... but it lacks the impact of true commitment."

You ignore him. You ignore everything. You're just grateful that—for once—this wasn’t completely unhinged, and that Floyd somehow seems to like it.

"Nothing says romance like a meal made with your own two hands!" Lilia declares, slamming an ancient, definitely cursed cookbook onto the table.

You blink down at it. The title is in some language that makes your vision swim just looking at it. The edges are charred, the pages stained with substances you’re 70% sure are not food-safe, and Malleus—Malleus Draconia himself, looks a little unsure.

That should have been your first hint.

But you? A fool. An idiot. A desperate, love-struck buffoon? You press forward.

“Alright,” you sigh, rubbing your temples, already regretting this. “What ingredients do I need?”

Lilia beams, flipping to a page that looks like it came from an alchemist’s horror novel.

"Let's see! We’ll need:"

• Moonshade Truffle,

• A pinch of Sablethorn Dust,

• Three drops of Evernight Basilisk Extract,

• Seven Tears of a Joyful Banshee,

• And a Love-Smitten Fire Spirit’s Breath!

…

You stare.

"Lilia."

"Yes, beastie?"

"These sound like potion ingredients."

"Oh-ho!" Lilia chuckles, waving a hand. "You humans always get so caught up in technicalities. But what is cooking if not a kind of magic?"

…No. No, this is actual magic. You are not making a love potion, but this sure as hell sounds like one.

But, like the fool you are, you go along with it. You spend far too much money (your entire savings) at Azul’s Most Definitely Not a Scam Emporium for all of these ridiculous ingredients. He knows you’re up to something dumb. He does not care. He simply profits.

And now, here you are. In the Ramshackle kitchen. Grim watches from a safe distance behind a chair. Malleus stands off to the side with his arms crossed, looking like he is rethinking his life choices. And Lilia, that menace, is watching you mix the ingredients like a proud mentor.

Everything is going fine. Suspiciously fine.

And then—

"Alright, time to bake it!" Lilia claps his hands. "It says here to bake at 350 for 20 minutes!"

You nod. This is reasonable.

"However!" He flips the page. "In the olden days, we used a slightly different method."

Malleus frowns. Your stomach drops.

"Instead of 350 for 20 minutes…" Lilia hums. "It says here—750 for 10!"

…

"What."

"Don’t be shy! Give it a try!" Lilia gestures for you to do it.

Malleus shifts, looking like he wants to intervene. Grim is slowly backing out of the room. You ignore all of this.

Because you are an idiot.

You turn the oven to 750. You shove the pan inside. You watch in real-time as your dignity burns.

The oven makes a sound ovens should not make.

Something explodes. The smell is indescribable.

When you pull the pan out, it is a pile of pure, blackened charcoal.

You are horrified. Malleus looks concerned. Grim looks betrayed.

"Are ya tryin’ to kill me, Henchhuman?!" Grim yells. "I thought we were friends!"

But Lilia? Lilia is nodding approvingly.

"Ah," he sighs, nostalgic. "Just like how I remember it."

…This man should not be allowed in kitchens.

But you, an absolute buffoon, take the charred remains of your so-called courtship offering and bring it to Floyd anyway.

You find him in the cafeteria, dump the plate in front of him, and sit down. Defeated.

Floyd stares. Pokes it with a finger.

And then, he looks at you.

With pity.

"Shrimpy." His voice is gentle. You feel a chill of fear. "You goin' through hard times or somethin'?"

…

You die inside.

Your cooking was so bad that Floyd Leech—FLOYD LEECH—was feeling sympathy for you.

You have never known such shame.

You sit there, staring into the distance like a soldier who’s seen too much. A philosopher pondering the futility of existence. A person who has scent-marked a sweater and written poetry at the behest of a fae prince who thinks you’re simply not dedicated enough to the craft of love.

You are contemplating life, death, and the many, many decisions that have led you here.

And then, Jade sits beside you.

You don’t even flinch. You should. You should be wary. You should immediately launch yourself into the bushes and prepare to be interrogated in some terrifying eel version of psychological warfare. But you don’t. Because you have nothing left.

So you just turn your head slowly, look at him with the dull, hollow eyes of someone who’s really going through it.

Jade looks positively delighted.

"My, my," he says, in that syrupy, knowing voice of his. "What could possibly put you in such a state?"

You inhale. Exhale. Consider your options. Death is looking really attractive.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Jade hums, obviously entertained, but then—then—he decides to make it worse.

"You know," he muses, "even Floyd has started to get concerned."

You blink.

"…Huh?"

"Oh, yes," he says, resting his chin on his hand, enjoying every second of this. "Between the odd gifts, the unusual behavior, and your general aura of suffering, even he has begun to notice. Which means you are being particularly obvious, because he rarely pays attention to anything that isn't entertaining."

You don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

"What’s your point?" you mutter.

Jade smiles like a predator about to land a final, devastating strike.

"You should simply tell him. Because this…?" He gestures vaguely at your soul-deep despair. "This is rather pitiful."

You stare.

You process.

And, somewhere in the depths of your heart, you realize he’s right.

You are in shambles.

Like, properly, horrifically, soul-crushingly in shambles. You’ve been through so much. You've spent weeks engaging in increasingly deranged behavior at the behest of a well-meaning yet hopelessly out-of-touch fae prince. You've endured ritual poetry readings, scent-marking disasters, and a culinary war crime that left you emotionally and financially bankrupt.

And now, standing in front of Floyd Leech—the very cause of your descent into insanity—you finally snap.

"I LIKE YOU!" you blurt, voice cracking like a cheap mirror. "I LIKE YOU AND I'VE BEEN ACTING LIKE A LUNATIC BECAUSE MALLEUS SAID I HAD TO FOLLOW FAE COURTSHIP RITUALS AND I—" your voice hiccups, borderline hysterical, "—I THINK I LOST A PIECE OF MY SOUL WHEN I TRIED TO BAKE THAT DAMN CAKE BUT IT'S FINE, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THAT'S JUST WHAT LOVE IS??? AND I DID IT ALL FOR YOU, FLOYD, BECAUSE I AM A DUMB IDIOT WHO LIKES YOU FOR SOME REASON."

You gasp for air, because this has been a lot.

And Floyd?

Floyd is laughing.

Not just a chuckle, either. No, this menace of a man is bent over, hands on his knees, actually wheezing with mirth as if you’ve just performed the comedy routine of the century. His shoulders shake. His teeth glint in the light. He looks absolutely delighted.

And you? You just stand there, a broken, hollow shell of a human being.

"You should’ve just told me, Shrimpy~!" he cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. "I like you too, y’know?"

...

There’s a moment of silence as your poor, battered brain struggles to process this information.

"WHAT."

Floyd grins, like you haven’t just endured weeks of psychological torment at the hands of a dragon prince. "I mean, you’re fun! You make me laugh, and I like squeezin’ ya. ‘Course I like ya!"

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, he lunges forward and grabs you in a hug so tight that your ribs beg for mercy. You are crushed, consumed, engulfed in the sheer force of his affection. Your spine may never recover, but at this point, what’s another injury to your dignity?

And honestly? You don’t care.

Because he likes you.

Floyd likes you back.

Which means—you realize, tears pricking your eyes in relief—you never have to perform another insane fae courtship ritual again.

No more humiliating poetry. No more dubious scent-marking. No more playing Russian roulette with your digestive system in the name of romance. You did it. You won.

And then Floyd leans down, cups your face, and kisses you.

It's a little rough, a little overwhelming, but you melt into it anyway, because Sevens, you earned this.

Somewhere in the distance, Malleus Draconia watches from the shadows.

Arms crossed, nodding sagely, he looks upon his greatest success.

"My expert techniques," he murmurs, pride swelling in his voice, "have secured my child of man their eel."

Behind him, Lilia wipes an imaginary tear.

"Beautiful," he sighs.

Masterlist

[jadebrightwind]

I reblogged this yesterday, but whenever I open tumblr now to take a quick break from moving I see it on my feed again. I keep thinking about it.

This is why it is hard for me to truly hate anyone. I can get frustrated with their behaviors- furious and angry, even - but I always come back to that could have been me. I could be that person, if pushed in just the right way.

I heard that phrase recently from someone, when I expressed fear of becoming the next X…. “You’re nothing like X.”

I’m nothing like X…now. But if things went truly poorly for me? If my mental health took a further nosedive? If I didn’t have a support system in place, full of friends and family who I knew would love and forgive me even if I slipped up? Maybe I would resort to terrible tactics just to be loved. Maybe in my desperation for friendship and acceptance, I could do something despicable. I won’t know for sure unless I’m there. But I can’t rule it out. I can’t rightfully say that I would behave better than someone else in a situation I haven’t been in. I could try to be on my best behavior, but desperation does things to people. Desperation for food, shelter, safety, acceptance, health, security.

Protecting yourself from harmful people is important, vital, and you’re not responsible for fixing the problems of everyone who is broken that comes across your door. You can’t. No ONE person can. But othering someone… it’s very dangerous. I can’t other someone lightly. Because in their face, I can see mine.

It’s terrifying to watch everyone around you other someone that could have been you. Terrifying. Because you can’t stop thinking about when it is going to be you - what will happen if you really are next. Because you could be. If enough goes wrong, you could be the dead wolf in the snow, and your fellow humans could say “good riddance”.

Maybe I’m overly empathetic. But I’d rather see a terrible person transform into a much better one than see them killed as looked upon as irredeemable. I’m not idealistic enough to say that can happen for everyone. But it’s hard for me to take joy in the annihilation of real, living humans. Because what if that were me? What would it take?

© pet_foolery

[luvyeni]

CELIBATE ♱. ── ( 정성찬 )

𝓲𝓿 ⦂ after a horrible terrible breakup with your ex; you swore off men, you were gonna be celibate for the foreseeable future … then here comes sungchan with a terrible first impression …

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 chapter eight. down , real bad .ᐟ

how was this your life right now? all you wanted to do was come home and get out the sticky coffee stained clothes…

after sungchan sent the text telling you to go the store cafe; you walked as fast as you could to your designation, you could hear the feet behind you speeding up, which made you do the same. “yn.” you heard a voice just as you reached the cafe. “yn.”

you swung around about to swing from the person — but you don’t; even though you wished you did. “geonu?” he smiled. “geonu what the fuck is wrong with you, i thought i was being followed.” he rolled his eyes, which pissed you off. “don’t be ridiculous, it’s just me.”

“yeah well i didn’t expect you to be following me at 11pm at night.” you scoffed, walking straight past him, only he grabbed your arm. “i just want to talk.” you snatched your arm away. “have nothing to talk about.” you said. “yn!” you heard a loud voice coming down the campus towards you. “sungchan.” he really came? he did and he was running towards you. “are you okay?”

he didn’t even care if he sprinted all the way from the gym to the cafe; he was out of breath and sweaty, but he found you and that all that matters. “im fine.” you said. hearing the annoyance in your voice, he followed your eyes, landing on the dude in front of him. “what’s going on right now?”

“he was the guy “following me” so fucking annoying.” the boys smug smirk threw him off. “come on baby– don’t call me that.” your voice made sungchan stand in front of you protectively. “let’s go.” sungchan said , geonu scoffed. “yn you really can’t be serious with this loser.” he said. “hey.” he hit sungchans shoulders like they were old friends. “you really hit the jackpot with this one.” you stomach twisted up in disgust. “that one right there is a freak.” sungchan wanted to punch that guy. “just tell her she’s pretty and she’ll give it to you.” the smirked on his is what set sungchan off.

“okay , shut the fuck up.” sungchan said; you grabbed the back of jersey. “let’s just go okay?” you said, but it fell on deaf ears when geonu pushed him. “or what?” he pushed him again. “geonu stop it.” you said. “no i want to see your little pussy boyfriend stop me.” he pushed them again. “come on, stop me.” before you could even de-escalate; sungchan pushed geonu a bit too hard, which caused him to stumble; and in retaliation geonu punched him in the face.

sungchan punched him back and they began to fight before the campus security ran over holding geonu. “sungchan.” you stopped in front him , your hand on his chest. “enough.” you said sternly. “look at the state of you, you’re bleeding.” grabbing his wrist. “i said let’s fucking go now.” you dragged him away. “yeah , keep walking , like a good boy for her!” geonu who was bleeding from the mouth. “she’ll be back!”

you muttered all the way back to your apartment; dragging sungchan like he was a toddler who just did something he wasn’t supposed to. “my life can never be simple.” he watched you jam the key into your doorknob. “it’s alway some complicated shit going on.” you dragging him inside. “sit.” you say , leaving him in your kitchen. “im gonna go change.”

leaving him in the kitchen; you grabbed everything you would need, making your way back into the kitchen where he was walking around. “I told you to sit down, if you pass on my floor im calling the cops and going to my room.” you dragged him to the seat. “you know i'm getting real tired of you dragging me.” he said, holding his nose. “deal with it.”

you held a rag to his nose; he winced. “my god i hope it’s not broken.” you whispered. “please eunseok chucked a basketball at my nose it i was fun , this nose can withstand anything and and i mean anything.” he winked and you scoffed. “apparently he didn’t hit you hard enough.” you said. “and neither did geonu , your nose isn’t broken, but you will need to ice it and you will be in pain for a few days.” you explained. “but that’s the consequences of getting into a fight.” you turned to walk away; but he had other plans, his hand went to your waist, turning you towards him and pulling you against him. “sungchan!”

you couldn’t lie you enjoyed that and he could see that, he smirked. “mama.” he started , you slapped his arm. “don’t call me that.” but he could see that name was something you also enjoyed. “you like this don’t you?” he said. “you keep playing these little tricks.” his forehead was pressed against yours , your waist was pressed against his. “but in reality you want this.” his lips ghosting yours. “all you have to do is say give it to me and you can have it.”

and you almost gave in; you really did — but then you heard wonbins agitating voice in head telling you couldn’t even last 3 months. “is that so?” he nodded. “just say i want you.” he whispered , the air was so tense. “well in that case.” his hands on your waist got tighter. “i want you…”

“to take this band aid and go home.”

you laughed seeing his expression change. “you are a cold human being.” he said looking at the band aid. “hello kitty?” you scoffed. “ this or this choose i have class in the morning and you have to go.” he dramatically sighed taking a band aid. “not even a kiss goodbye?” you walked him to the door. “can you even be trusted with just a kiss?” you teased. “can you be trusted with a kiss?” he said. “no I wouldn’t i would probably drag you to my room and have my way with you.” and with that you closed the door on him.

the boy huffed; pressing his forehead against your door. fuck he was down real bad.

🍃. taglist … @dollechan @thisrandombitch @daegale @shimochibun @gacktsa @jungwonsstrawberry @hanninova @nlewst @pxnklover @secretiny @sunflowers1610 @jvngw0nlvr @valentinebby @kittykyuuu @mmjh1998 @saranghoeforanton @chwesuh-imnida @yuyita-rosier @niniissus @17ericas s @i03jae @kookieswithjung @ethelia @dorritoni @nickiminajleftasscheek @xcosmi

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 previous. celibate masterlist. next. .ᐟ

©️LUVYENI

[drabbletron]

Stand up Comedy:

|| Stand up comedy on the lost light has got to be the funniest thing, especially concerning human/cybertronian relations. ||

Comic on the topic of a human and a bot dating: “How the hell are you going to date someone on the same ship as you and not be the same height? You’re telling me you chose the tallest person on the ship and said ‘yep, I want that one!’ That’s a long-distance relationship right there! It’d take you five business days just to give him a kiss, and if you do it wrong, Ultra Magnus is gonna hit you with an OSHA violation. Your boyfriend isn’t even in the same atmosphere as you!”

“Being with a bot gives a whole new meaning to ‘junk in the trunk’. I was behind one of them in line and all I hear is a 'BEEP BEEP BEEP!' I'm scared as hell and the only thing I could think to do was yell 'Look down, LOOK DOWN!'”

“Breaking up has got to be terrible because not only are you out of a relationship, you’re also out of a ride to work in the morning!”

“These mechs out here don’t even have to try to get a human woman. The only thing they have to do is walk up and say ‘it vibrates’ and we’re cooked! That’s it! Be tall and vibrate – BOOM – you have a wife now, idk what to tell you man.”

"Do you think that having a fork lift certification is sexy to those guys? Like 'Oh you can handle heavy machinery? Well have I got some news for you!'"

"Or like knowing how to handle a power tool? Walking into an ACE hardware must be like walking into an adult store for those guys! Them older bots must love wd-40!"

|| i watch a lot of stand up comedy and i don't see a lot of content for that audience. this might actually go well with the First Contact AU ||

[doodle-pops]

Married Life With Feanor, Fingolfin and Finarfin Would Include…

Request: Hi, can I request some group fluffy headcanons for Feanor, Fingolfin and Finarfin with asexual!reader? Like about their domestic life. I like to imagine they would give reader some extra care and make them feel valid and loved, and when someone tries to stick their nose into their relationship, they just be like: "Yeah, me and my partner don't have bodily union, but we're bonded by stars, so get lost". Thanks in advance (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

A/N: Always a pleasure to answer your requests. Enjoy!

Synopsis: What your married life with them as an asexual person would entail.

Masterlist | Navigation

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fëanor

➽ Fëanor, being Fëanor, does not give a damn about what others think of your relationship. In fact, he thrives on the scandal it causes amongst the more traditional elves.

➽ If anyone so much as dares to comment on the lack of physical intimacy between you two, he scoffs, waves a dismissive hand, and says something like, “What, you thought I, Curufinwë Fëanáro, needed to do what every other lovesick fool does? I am bonded beyond flesh. And if you don’t understand that, I won’t waste my breath explaining it to you.”

➽ He is extremely protective of your comfort. If someone is prying or making you feel invalid, he will eviscerate them with words alone. “Your ignorance wounds me,” he’d say in a tone so dry that it leaves the offender squirming. “And here I thought the Eldar were supposed to be enlightened.”

➽ You are the only one allowed to touch his hair without protest. The sight of you braiding it is enough to make his sons do double takes because their father, the very Fëanor, sits still and lets you work without a single complaint. If you ever want yours braided in return, he takes to the task with precision—his fingers work like a master jeweller, and he will not accept anything less than perfection.

➽ If you’re feeling insecure about your identity, he brings you into his forge and makes you something to remind you of your worth. A Silmaril of your own, set with a stone that captures the first light of Telperion and Laurelin. “No one questions the worth of the Silmarils,” he murmurs as he fastens it around your neck. “And you are far rarer, far more precious. So do not let lesser minds make you doubt.”

➽ When the two of you sit together, he always ends up with an arm slung around your shoulders or your fingers intertwined with his. It’s never possessive—just a quiet reminder that you belong to each other. He likes to rest his forehead against yours sometimes, eyes closed, breathing in your presence. “This,” he says softly, “is enough.”

➽ Maedhros and Maglor have learned not to comment on your relationship because every time they do, Fëanor launches into a dramatic speech about how the two of you share a connection beyond mere physicality, an eternal bond forged in the core of Arda itself, something that transcends mere bodily desires. Eventually, his sons stop bringing it up because he won’t shut up.

➽ If he catches anyone looking down on you for your sexuality, he leans in and murmurs in a deceptively friendly tone, “If you insult my beloved, you insult me. And you would not dare to insult me, would you?” Cue the offending party quickly finding somewhere else to be.

➽ He has a terrible habit of stealing your clothes when they’re left unattended. You’ll come into your shared space to find him wearing your outer robe like a lordly cloak, completely unbothered by the fact that it’s clearly not his. “It smells like you,” he says with a shrug. “And I happen to like that.”

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fingolfin

➽ Unwavering in his devotion, and when he loves, he loves with his whole being. He understands you, accepts you, and never lets you feel less than cherished. Whenever someone questions your relationship, he just raises an eyebrow and says in his calm, unshakable voice, “What I have with my beloved is eternal. It does not need to be explained.”

➽ He is an incredibly attentive partner. He notices when you’re overwhelmed, when you need space, when you need reassurance. If you ever doubt your worth, he takes your hands in his and presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “You are enough,” he tells you. “Always.”

➽ If someone tries to insist that your love is somehow ‘incomplete’ without physical intimacy, Fingolfin gives them a look so cold that they immediately regret opening their mouth. “And who,” he asks, voice laced with steel, “gave you the authority to define love?”

➽ He enjoys quiet domestic moments. Sitting beside you as he polishes his armour, reading together beneath the trees, walking hand in hand through the city—these are the things he treasures. Sometimes, he just gazes at you with a small, private smile, as if he still cannot quite believe you chose him.

➽ His siblings have very different reactions to your relationship. Fëanor, predictably, scoffs at the idea of his half-brother finding happiness but secretly respects how fiercely Fingolfin defends your bond. Finarfin, ever the peacekeeper, is simply delighted to see you both happy. “True love is rare,” he tells you one day with a warm smile. “Never let anyone tell you it must look a certain way.”

➽ Whenever you sit in court beside him, he unconsciously seeks you out, his hand resting lightly on yours, a subtle anchor in the storm of politics. Even in the most heated debates, his touch remains grounding and comforting.

➽ When he prepares for battle, he always ensures you have something of his—perhaps a finely wrought bracelet, a token of his love. “I will return to you,” he vows, fingers brushing against yours. “And should I fall, know that I have loved you beyond all reckoning.”

➽ He is a surprisingly good cook, but only for you. If one of his soldiers asks for a meal, they get standard fare. If you ask? He’s suddenly making a feast fit for a king. “Favouritism?” he echoes, feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Finarfin

➽ He is utterly devoted to making sure you always feel loved and validated. He is patient, understanding, and the first to shut down any nonsense about what a relationship should look like. “Love is not measured by the expectations of others,” he says simply. “It is measured by what we build together.”

➽ He is incredibly gentle with you. If you ever feel overwhelmed, he simply pulls you into his arms and lets you lean against him, no words needed. His presence alone is a comfort, warm and steadfast.

➽ He enjoys creating things for you—whether it’s intricate jewellery, embroidered garments, or even composing a song that captures the depths of your bond. “It is not the work of a great minstrel,” he says with a soft smile, “but it is yours, and that is enough.”

➽ Whenever someone pries into your relationship, he doesn’t get angry. He just tilts his head, gives them a polite but firm look, and says, “I fail to see how this is your concern.” Somehow, that is more effective than any argument.

➽ If you ever feel insecure about your identity, he reassures you with quiet conviction. “You are as the Valar made you,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “And who am I to question their wisdom?”

➽ He enjoys domestic routines with you—sharing meals, walking through the gardens, reading together in companionable silence. These small moments mean everything to him.

➽ His children adore you. Even if they don’t always understand your perspective at first, they respect you deeply. Galadriel and Finrod in particular are protective of you, and anyone who dares to mock your relationship will find themselves on the receiving end of Galadriel’s sharp tongue.

➽ When he speaks about you, there is always warmth in his voice, a quiet reverence. “My love,” he says one evening as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “the world may not always understand us, but I need only your understanding. That is all that matters.

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @stormchaser819 @addaigio @hermaeuswhora @elficially-done-with-life @feanorynz @6esi @eunoiaastralwings @lamemaster @will-0-wsps

If you wish to be tagged, click the Taglist Link to join.

[zomboivex]

Getting personal for a moment. But I feel it’s important to share, anyways.

When I was married, everyone in my life gaslit me to believe I was terrible with managing my money. Any personal expensive was noted as frivolous and wasteful. Bought some fabric for my hobby of dress-making with money I earned from a bonus?

That could have been used for the water bill next month!

Had a $1000 bonus? No. That’s for the house mortgage that he didn’t let my name exist on even though I paid for majority of the renovations because he was content letting the kitchen sit in disarray with thick dust in the air. Causing me to have severe allergy attacks every day.

Called off sick?

How could you? We have bills to pay!!!!

Go through extreme harassment at work?

No. You’re making it up. It’s an excuse to take a day off and relax.

Ignore the fact that he called off regularly because he had headaches while I was shamed into going to work despite having the flu.

Set up a joint account where only I contributed to put money in for bills to pay. Because he would pay from his account. Then he’d constantly drain the joint account for ‘bills’ and then spend his money on who even knows. We had 2 maxed out credit cards in his name.

But this was so normal to me. Because I grew up like this. I grew up with my ‘support system’ telling me this is normal. Telling me that I am the problem.

And I believed it.

I believed that everything that was wrong was me.

I didn’t know he was $7,000 in debt until our divorce where he was demanding I pay it off.

I never did find out what he used that money on. I suspect it was on his gaming addiction and my alleged ‘best friend’ he was sleeping with.

When I finally got out of that relationship, I was in financial ruin. I had nothing in my name. At 30.

I lost everything. (Except for the car that I begged for him to let me take and 3 of my 4 cats).

I lost the house I lived in for years. It was all in his name. There was nothing I could do about it. Because we were ‘only married for 3 years’ despite being together for 10.

I had no furniture to take with me. Save for a couch. That I couldn’t actually take because I had no place to go. I was couch surfing or sleeping in my car at this time.

I lost my dream job because my ‘friend’ worked there as well. And while they were beyond accommodating to my situation, I could no longer mentally handle being there nor could I handle the hour drive once I did find a place to live.

$1000 down on a new apartment.

Car broke down a month later. $1000 down on a new car.

Said car was stolen twice. Can’t even begin to tell you how much money that leeched out of my savings.

$23,000 (with health insurance) for surgery due to appendicitis.

All in a year after divorce.

It was defeating. It was so fucking hard.

In a span of a year I went through multiple life crises events. I can feel how it physically changed my ability to process information. In a way, I’ve become ‘dumber’ because of it. I can’t hold onto information. I have a hard time reading and staying focused.

Only reason I was able to even financially get through all of that was because I had some money saved from a lawsuit at the job that was harassing me that I wound up winning after the divorce. That and I finally caved in and got a credit card (my credit score was good) and a couple of personal loans.

I’m still paying it all off. It has been so fucking hard.

And I’ve been going through waves of hating myself for being so naive to feeling terrible for what I’ve been through because I didn’t see anything wrong with what I experienced as it was happening. And I’m finally coming to my own form of peace with this. But it was hard.

I had been with him for 10 years.

I don’t love easily. But I did love him. Even if I showed it in odd ways. I wouldn’t have married him, otherwise.

And then when everyone around me said I was the problem, I believed them.

Even now, I have an incredibly hard time understanding when I am truly in the wrong with a situation or if my reaction to things are justified.

I didn’t realize I was being put through mental and financial abuse by so many people around me.

I wish I could hug me from a few years ago and let them know they are so strong for going through all of this. But that they shouldn’t have had to be so strong for so long.

I wish I could hug every woman on the planet that has been through anything where they had to ‘be strong’ to survive while thinking it’s normal.

Baby, it’s not normal. You deserve so much more in this world.

You deserve your own freedom and a support system that values you and lets you know when you’re going through actual bullshit instead of painting you as the villain.

To all the women out there who go through these things; I love you. I see you.

maybe i’m a joyless bitch but i actually do NOT think it’s funny to see women being like “the house is just in my husbands name” or “my husband makes all the money” or “i don’t even know who our mortgage is with” or “the only bank account/credit card is his and i get an allowance” like i do NOT find that cute or romantic and i am begging these women to Stand Up. you should at least be named on the deed to your house and the title to your car and the bank accounts even if you don’t pay for them/earn all the money. you can’t stop existing in the eyes of the law and the credit unions simply because you have a husband. if you’re raising his children and washing his socks half of everything he’s got is yours and it needs to be yours LEGALLY BY NAME. "he takes such good care of me :)" girl you are a PRISONER!! that’s all

[rotprincess]

Quinn Mossbacher x gn!reader

Warnings: I only watched like 3 episodes of white lotus, this will probably stray from canon because of that, probably OOC Quinn 😓, kinda mean grandma, awkward dialogue because Quinn is awkward, we will fix that perhaps. Bad punctuation. No beta we die like that mystery person in the first episode, this joke isn’t gonna age well once i actually finish the first season. No use of Y/N

Summary/Prologue?: Spending vacation with your grandma was a nice way to relax without having to deal with your family or responsibilities. It also allowed you to enjoy a little freedom, and flirt with random people you thought were cute because, well, you’re at White Lotus hotel! You can let yourself go and do embarrassing things and be awkward because you won’t see anyone at that hotel ever again… but what if that’s a bad thing? What if you mess up so bad and accidentally fall in love with a socially awkward boy who you’ll never see again?

Sending this out into the void and hoping for the best, might continue if this is well received

Word count: 1k+

—-

It wasn’t nice to stare, but it was a teeny bit nice when it was a cute boy looking at you… kinda. Suddenly your limbs get ridged and now you have to over analyze and calculate your next move in order to make sure you don’t scare away a future fling. Now noticing how uncomfortable your swimsuit felt, as it clung to your body like a fresh bandaid. You bit your lip, turning your head to look back. There he was, the cute redheaded boy who probably had terrible manners due to his poor upbringing, well not poor as in broke considering he’s spending vacation in Hawaii, but it was still a little endearing the way he openly ogled your frame. You flashed him a small practiced smile, taking notice the way his jaw slackened a bit. The ego boost was much appreciated.

You went over to grab your bag laying on the sand, still feeling his piercing blue eyes on your lower back. You would have liked to stay for a little while to continue snorkeling but your grandma said she wanted to have lunch together. After opening your bag you grabbed and dried yourself off with a towel, taking a small glance at the boy. To your dismay, he wasn’t looking at you anymore, too preoccupied with his dad. A part of you hoped you’d see more of him, but the hotel’s too big and your grandma’s probably going to drag you to the hot yoga and massage place because you’re “too tense”.

You might have been too obvious with your subtle long glances as both him and his dad turn to look at you. Your eyes widen, heat rising to your cheeks as you rush to leave the shore. Great, now you made a fool of yourself. You wouldn’t see him ever again so it’s fine right?

Loud incorrect buzzer.

So stupid to assume you wouldn’t cross paths again. You went over to this nice open buffet, tried to enjoy it, but they sat directly across from you and your grandma. The place was packed so you couldn’t even ask your grandma to sit somewhere else to get a better view of the ocean. Thankfully you didn’t make the mistake of telling your grandma what had happened, she would have been nudging you and making comments about them a bit too loud to be considered appropriate. You ate too fast, throat feeling rough from the amount of food you scarfed down. You attempted to avoid small talk with your grandma in order to leave faster but she was insistent on sitting down and enjoying her long awaited meal.

You rested your head in your palm, you would have learned by now not to stare but he was just too cute not to look at. You locked eyes for what seems like the 100th time today and smiled, building up enough confidence to send a small wave his way. He nodded his head in acknowledgment, his mouth slightly ajar. Your smile turned awkward, cringing internally at yourself as you tried to place your focus somewhere else. Your eyes darted across the room, going from admiring the plants to the lights to the paintings till you ran out of things to look at and finally laid your eyes back onto the boy. He was busying himself with his phone as his dad rambled on about something, you were too far away to hear, at some point he gestured towards you, then it hit you, they were talking about you. By then your grandma got up to leave, making you rush to pick up her bag. The quicker you left the better.

—

You spent the rest of your day tossing and turning in your bed, flicking through channels on the tv till you landed on an animal documentary. Your grandma was nice enough to get you your own separate hotel room just across from her’s. She said she “respected your privacy” but it was probably so she could pretend she was vacationing by herself. As the sun started to set you turned off the tv and stared out the window; watching as the sky turned from beautiful shades of orange and pink, to dark blues and purples. You tried to enjoy the scenery as you slowly felt yourself drift off to sleep, but you heard a loud slam a few doors down, startling you enough to the point where your heavy lidded eyes flew open.

You dragged a hand over your eyes, trying to rub the tiredness away. You put on some sandals and walked out onto the shore; it was empty, the umbrellas and white lounge chairs having been stored away. You sat down, close enough to the ocean for it to brush small waves over your feet. You wished you could fall asleep right now, but you didn’t feel like getting mistaken for a weird homeless person who washed up on shore. You stretched your arms out, feeling the light breeze on your skin. The sound of rough footsteps caught your attention, you turned and saw the boy from earlier sitting down on one of the only lounge chairs on the beach. He was covered in a thick white blanket and had his electronics laid out on the sand, you cringed at the thought of them getting washed away. Suddenly you heard a whale, and saw its tail splashing in the water.

You looked back at the boy; you wanted to save his electronics before any serious damage was done. You got up and made your way towards him. “Beautiful whale right?” You asked, stopping a few feet away from him. He let out a sound of approval, nodding his head. “So.. what are you doing out here so late? If you don’t mind me asking?”

The boy shrugged, “I‘m gonna sleep here.”

“Why?”

“Cause.. my sister and her friend kicked me out.”

“Oh..”

Your eyes dropped to look at his electronics, taking notice of the Nintendo Switch and tablet on the floor. “You not scared of your stuff getting washed away? The waves reach pretty high… I’ve seen it.”

He shrugged yet again. You fidgeted with your hands, you wanted to ask something but you were afraid of it being too forward; but then again, you wouldn’t see him ever after this vacation, so it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Do you uhm.. do you wanna sleep in my room? I got space.” You watched as his face scrunched up, yup you definitely were too forward. “Aren’t you staying with your— grandma?” Your lips pursed and you shook your head, “No, I have my own room.” Before you forgot, you told him your name. He nodded, and a few minutes of staring passed before he got the memo. “I’m Quinn.”

You nodded, crossing your arms. “Lovely name, so are you gonna take me up on the offer or are you gonna let your stuff get washed away?” You said with a tilt of your head. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed, looking down at his stuff, then to the water, and back down to his stuff. You could see the gears turning in his head as he looked you up and down and let out a sigh. “Okay…”

“Great! Your phone’s gonna thank me later. You need to charge anything? I got some spare cables?” You said, squatting down to help him grab his stuff.

“Uhh not right now.”

You nodded your head, and grabbed his hand, not missing the way his arm tensed up before relaxing in your hold.

—

Woah big mama, hope yall like… switch the stones for tomatoes pls. Like comment and subscribe for more bangers!!!!

[pukefactory]

Can we have a Goob X Fem!reader who is Literally Serious

Like this the silly and cute goober and his scary badass girlfriend

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ FROM THE INSIDE ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

-ˋˏ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Goob and a serious female reader

-ˋˏ Character(s): Goob (Dandy’s World)

-ˋˏ Reader Pronouns: She/Her

-ˋˏ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, SFW

-ˋˏ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✄ Goob adores you more than anything, even if most toons are too intimidated to understand why. You’re strong, serious, and utterly unshakable—qualities that would scare off most, but Goob thinks you’re the coolest person in the world. He talks about you constantly, boasting to anyone who will listen about how “tough and awesome” his girlfriend is.

✄ Your presence alone is enough to make most toons straighten up, but Goob is entirely unaffected. While others tread carefully around you, afraid of making a wrong move, Goob remains his usual, bubbly self. He still clings to your arm, calls you adorable pet names, and beams at you like you personally hung the stars.

✄ He’s convinced that you’re secretly soft on the inside, even if you rarely show it. Every time you help him with something—whether it’s fixing his fur, handing him something without him asking, or pulling him away from danger—he dramatically gasps and declares, “See! I knew you cared!” You roll your eyes every time, but the slight smirk you give him is all the confirmation he needs.

✄ Despite your serious nature, Goob insists on keeping you involved in his goofy antics. He’ll randomly place a party hat on your head, draw little smiley faces on your arm with marker, or challenge you to a game of “try not to smile” (which you always win, much to his dismay). Still, he never stops trying to crack your stoic exterior.

✄ Goob is painfully aware that you could obliterate anyone who threatens him, and he loves it. If another toon so much as teases him too harshly, he immediately hides behind you, peeking over your shoulder with a smug grin. The moment you fix the offender with a cold, deadpan stare, they quickly back off, and Goob is left giggling about how “My girlfriend is the scariest ever! I love her so much!”

✄ Your dynamic confuses the entire Gardenview cast. No one understands how a chaotic, hug-loving goofball ended up with someone as intense and serious as you. Tisha swears you’re just waiting for the perfect moment to betray him, while Rodger keeps asking if you’re sure you even like Goob. Goob, of course, is oblivious to all of it—he just knows you’re his and that’s all that matters.

✄ You rarely initiate physical affection, but Goob has a sixth sense for when you need it. He never asks; he just appears at your side and wraps his arms around you, knowing you won’t push him away. His warmth is comforting, even if you’d never admit it out loud.

✄ Goob is one of the only toons who isn’t afraid to poke fun at you. While most are too intimidated to joke around, Goob playfully mimics your serious expressions, giving his best (terrible) impression of your monotone voice. “ I fear nothing. I am so cool.” The first time he did this, you nearly threw him across the room. Now, you just sigh and flick his forehead.

✄ When Goob has nightmares, he always crawls into bed with you. He’s a little hesitant, knowing you’re not the overly affectionate type, but he doesn’t have to worry. You don’t say anything, but you let him snuggle up against your side, one hand resting protectively on his back. You may not be expressive, but Goob knows he’s safe with you.

✄ No matter how much of a “badass” you are, Goob refuses to let you be all work and no fun. He drags you into silly activities, whether it’s playing hide-and-seek, building pillow forts, or making cookies shaped like little frowny faces “just for you.” Even if you pretend to be annoyed, the fact that you never actually say no tells him everything he needs to know.

[sitp-recs]

hi!!! i appreciate everything you do and your fics are always soooo goood, last night i read a drarry fic that upset me and now im in need of fics where draco feels safe with harry and seeks comfort in him. so if you have any kind of fics with that vibe id appreciate it very very much, take your time, and thank you for looking into it!!!

Thank you for the kind words, anon! I’m sorry you’re feeling upset, I hope these fics work for you 🫂

in advance by M0stlyVoid (E, 3.5k)

Draco's been scared of fire since the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry likes wax play. This is how they work together to face Draco's fear and get what they both want.

Silence series by RurouniHime (E, 10k)

It was his battle, yet he never hurt me, and he could have.

Solve Us Like a Mystery by tryslora (T, 12k)

When Harry stops in at the bookstore where Draco works, they find a surprising shared interest in mysteries.

The Body Keeps Score by amorsindolor (E, 13k)

Draco cries during sex. A story about touch, intimacy, and the healing we find through mutual trust and love.

Between Myth and Man by slytherco (E, 16k)

Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning.

Vale Sanare by RurouniHime (M, 23k)

Draco’s world gains a new component just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

In Your Arms, Rests My World by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 24k)

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it. “You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

Inside Your Mind by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 36k)

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

As Souls From Bodies Steal by Femme (E, 41k)

Hope may be found in the oddest of places, even in the bleakness of winter.

Super Rich Kids by trishjames (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

The Paradox of Active Surrender by korlaena (E, 108k)

When Draco shows up as a suspect in a murder case after eight years of no contact, Harry has to balance his professional life and his past friendship with Draco.

A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter.

There Is Always the Moon by firethesound (T, 159k)

Draco's life after the war is everything he wanted it to be: it's simple, and quiet, and predictable, and safe. But when a mysterious curse shatters the peace he'd worked so hard to build, there's only one person he can trust to help him.

[aliteralchicken]

Genuinely confused, how is "staying for the schools" a classist joke? I'm not a native english speaker and i feel like im missing some nuances

Sorry this is late and rushed, tumblr keeps deleting my drafts

Stephanie is from the suburbs, she went to Gotham heights and Gotham high, which is a pretty good non private education in Gotham, a quality of education no one in devils square would likely be getting

people say they’d move “for the schools” because the schools they want their kid to transfer to would be significantly better than the ones they either are currently in or will be going to, usually because of reputation and funding, the better the location (for example having important and affluent residents) the more money goes into the school

Devils square has a terrible reputation, even for Gothams, the page itself describes it as a “demilitarised zone”, it has no protection and an incredibly high concentration of criminals, no non criminal rich person is going to stay there, if you’re in devils square it’s because you don’t have a choice, Gotham is currupt and devils square and it’s residents have been left to defend themselves because of this, its schools would reflect that

they’d be run down with no money put into them, they wouldn’t be able to afford things like new equipment or high paying teacher salaries, because of the high amount of criminals living there it would limit opportunities and significantly increase the chances of kids in those schools being forced, manipulated or having to join those criminals out of necessity (compared to other areas of Gotham)

No one is going to devils square for the schools, because assumedly they’d be terrible, that’s the joke, one Steph is making at Jordannas expense, who we can infer from her talks with Francisco is from devils square and likely went to those schools

[plaidos]

"fun silly sexy TF art by other trans girls" The fun and silly Let People Enjoy Things™ part fair enough although as a brown transfem i'm allowed a lil haterism?? lollol. But the "by other trans girls" part? Like xhile I remember perfectly mfs making entire memes saying bowsette was a cis white bitch and how vile people would get at any depiction of her as a black or trans woman or as unconventional attractive, idk I personally have terrible memories with that trend, like im not denying theres transfem fans and good for them but for the most MOST part the super crown meme was as queer and trans [woman] friendly as Futanari is intersex friendly bffrrr lol

I do admit that I shouldn't have used the "oid" shit in retrospective so honestly apologies for that

i mean yeah you’re allowed as much haterism as you want as long as you aren’t implicitly degendering other trans women as perverted men when they like/make art that you don’t like. like you remember people being vile and transphobic & racist about a character people were saying was non-white or transfeminine? like… do you think that might have more to do with racism & transmisogyny than…. bowsette?

also like my main problem with the ask is that that isn’t what “male gaze” means like it doesn’t just mean A Man Drew Something Sexy like. it’s a film term that means something about film and when you just throw it into TF fetish art you just sound silly (even if those things can/should be criticised too)

anyway idk i just think your problems with it have more to do with the ordinary bigotry pervasive in all situations rather than the particular idea of Boswer taking the Peachette power up lol

[revelboo]

Is Hound ever gonna notice his human trying to run away/having run away~?

(or did I miss that update somehow? did u already do a Hound update? omg sorry if u did!)

I haven’t updated his yet

Heavy Boots Pt 4

Hound x Reader

• Arms full of plants, he lets himself into his habsuite and nearly drops everything when he spots the knotted blanket rope and the distinct lack of one human. Spark constricting, he kneels to look under the berth, checking the floor and coming up empty. You can’t open the door, so where could you have- Freezing when his optics land on the vent. Could you fit in there? And his comm pings as he grips the edge of the grate and pulls it free. “Bit busy, pal,” he growls. How far could you have gotten?

• How far do these vents go? They have to end at some point. Right? “We’re lost aren’t we?” You ask and your friend snorts, leaning to peer through the slats in the next grate, though you hadn’t found anything interesting since that human sized bot going to town with that person. “Think we’re going to die in here?” And your buddy turns to shoot you a look, rolling their eyes when you just shrug. From deeper in the vents there’s a thump and you both go still.

• “Yeah, I’ve been pinging you. The humans are in the vents,” Trailbreaker says and Hound can hear the other mech moving around in the background as he mass shifts and climbs into the vent. “They’re not exactly quiet and- holy Primus.” Heading toward where Trailbreaker’s signal is coming from, that hushed outburst makes him hesitate.

• “Go, go, go,” you hiss, breaking into a jog. Because something is definitely in the vents with the two of you. And your panic feeds your friend’s. There’s no more sneaking, your running feet loud as you both bolt headlong. Have no idea what’s after you, but you take some small satisfaction in the fact that you’re just a tiny bit faster than your buddy. Know it makes you a terrible friend, but if it’s a monster after you two and it’s your life or theirs? You happen to like you.

• “You good, buddy?” He asks, a hand skimming the wall of the vent. ‘You remember that weird don’t frag the humans thing Megatron sent out? Boss bot didn’t get the message,’ Trailbreaker whispers sounding fascinated and scandalized all at once. And Hound hesitates. Wait. So Optimus is fragging his human? Don’t know what to make of that, because it’s Optimus. Their leader and when he tries to imagine the boss as anything but grave and serious? Nope. His processor just shies away from that mental image. “Are you still following the humans or are you just watching Optimus?”

Previous

[brain4stew]

Can you do a mimic survivor!reader who's scary at first but surprisingly not hostile,who's a trickster as well and how they would react to readers abilities to mimic(like builderman,guest 1337,noob or chance) hcs?

Oooo, now this is quite the interesting request!! I’ll see what I can do with your request! 🫶🫶

(As always, I do not entirely know the characters exact personalities, so they might, if not most likely, will be OOC!!)

That being said, headcanons/something is under the cut! ;

(Noob)

• Let’s be real here… You always scare them for whatever reason.

• They’re constantly confused and on edge around you at first.

• Ovetime however, they just become confused and curious about you!

• They strangely enjoy your company, which, surprise them.

• In rounds, you struggle a bit to figure out which of your survivor teammates abilities to mimic…

• Noob spawned nearby you, and saw your struggle, and suggested you mimic their abilities!

• You’re a bit hesitant on it, but decide to go on with it. Now you have “Ghostburger”, “Bloxy Colas” and “Slateskin Potion”!

• You’re strangely very good with their abilities, as you managed to disappear from 1x1x1x1’s sight when being chased. (You ate a Ghostburger, and hid by one of those huge rocks…)

• Even Noob is surprised and happy about it! Teach them your ways, they really want to be able to live longer!!

• Back in the lobby, they immediately go to you, and ramble to you, about how awesome you were with their abilities, and so on!

(Chance)

• He kind of dislikes you (at first), whenever he hears the word “Mimic” he might be thinking of those… Creatures that seem like an ordinary chest or something, but aren’t.

• He’s a bit on edge around you, finding you quite strange at first. Overtime, he sees that you’re basically safe.

• He has asked you once if you can mimic his skills and play cards with him. (You won, a lot…)

• In rounds, you, yet again are struggling with whose skills you should mimic.

• Chance was in the same spawn as you, (he fell over somehow…) and decided to suggest his abilities.

• You agreed, not without double checking, seeing him just, on the ground out of the blue. (…How.)

• You gained his abilities, “Chance’s Favor”, “Hat fix”, “One Shot” and “Reroll”.

• Safe to say… You’re AWESOME, with Chance’s abilities. You could say even better than him!

• He’s a bit jealous due to that, but, what can he do, when you’re contributing to help your teammates?

• Back in the lobby, he asks you for tips, and all of that, to which you respond with; “You just have terrible luck it seems.”

• (Man, he loves and hates you now, LOL.)

(Builderman)

• He’s interested in you. You don’t seem too harmful, and he’s quite curious about you.

• He’s asked you if you can straight up just, copy, whatever someone does. (You do.)

• He has asked you if you can make something for him, which you do, and he’s even more interested and curious about you!

• In rounds, you decided to mimic his abilities.

• You’ve got “Sentry” and “Dispenser” now!

• You put the Sentry by you, when you’re doing a generator. Builderman sees it, of course, and goes to question how your ability works.

• You explain, and now he’s even more interested in you!

• Your team ends up surviving, thanks to your and Builderman’s dispensers and sentry’s.

• Back in the lobby, he keeps questioning you, and asks how you manage to mimic the abilities.

• You, happily yap away about why and how you’re like, and mimicking abilities.

• He’s listening intently, occasionally putting in comments and questions.

• Safe to say, he likes you!

(Guest 1337)

•He’s on edge and constantly avoids you, which, is reasonable, due to his previous experience with war and people.

• Overtime, he gradually becomes less and less avoidant and weary.

• He sees how you’re interacting with others, and does not hurt anyone, so he thinks you’re safe.

• In rounds, you both spawn together, but, you fall over somehow, which you both reasonably get confused at.

• You stand up of course, and struggle again with whose abilities you should mimic. He hesitates for a moment, before requesting his abilities.

• You agree, and mimic his abilities. You now have; “Block”, “Charge” and “Punch”.

• You manage to get used to his abilities, and he gives you heads up in advance when you get his abilities.

• You manage to stall the time A LOT, as the killer wanted to get you first, before they went after Guest 1337.

• Of course, you, not liking that. Charge at the killer, causing you to get their attention again. You block and punch the killer, just before the time ends.

• Back in the lobby, Guest 1337, goes to you, and asks if you want to train with him.

• You agree, and you both become sparring partners, and good friends.

• Safe to say, he likes you, even with him being weary of you.