#and i should be asleep

[that-dam-heartstopper-fan]

is anyone online rn??

[thepenultimateword]

Why do the cool ideas live in my head but don't want to come out onto the page? I'm in such a writery mood right now, but just...nothing wants to be actual words, just little daydream pictures. Also no plots, only premises.

I also just finished a show, and I'm messed up over it. Do people actually just watch shows and move on when they're done? They don't live with an empty feeling in their stomach and their head full of thoughts for the next however long it takes to get over it?

Anyway, that relates because now I want to make a really cool story with lots of emotions and likable characters just like this show, but it's so hard. If only the little daydreams would write themselves for me exactly how I want them written.

[legolasghosty]

Ohh for the fluffy dialogue prompts can you do 2. “I feel like I can breathe better with you around.” for Willex please? <3

Yessss, I am so sorry about how long it's taken me to get to this!!! But here you go!!! Also... I am so very sorry for how angsty this got! Send me another ask and I'll get you some actual fluff next time! Yikes!

Alex waits till the hall light clicks off. Then he counts slowly to 100 to give his parents plenty of time to get to their room and shut the door. Once he's sure they're out of earshot, he slowly sits up and pulls his phone from under the pillow. There's a text from Willie on the screen from about five minutes ago.

Willie - I'm outside. Do you need help?

Alex quickly types out a negative response, then forces himself up and out of his bed. This won't take long, and the noise generated by a second person would greatly increase the chances of him getting caught.

He can't get caught. Not this time. Not after...

No. He's getting out tonight. Away from rules that don't make sense and pointed glances and people surrounding him, laying hands on his shoulders, all praying aloud at once and proclaiming victory over The Enemy when Alex collapsed to the floor, tears leaking from his eyes as he fought to keep from drowning.

He can't take it anymore. Not after that. He can't fake it.

Alex pulls out the half packed suitcase from under his bed. No time to be tidy, he just has to be fast and quiet.

The last couple of his comfy shirts and pants go into the suitcase, then some socks and underwear. One of his warmer coats and a white button down go in as well. Gotta be practical when running away from your homophobic family, right?

Willie promised to handle all the hygiene products, so Alex doesn't bother risking a trip to the bathroom for his toothbrush or shampoo. He adds all of the spare drumsticks he keeps at home to the suitcase. There aren't many. In goes a picture of him and his big sister when they were in middle school, and the cardboard box that holds all of Alex's ticket stubs and cards and things from his friends.

And that's it. There's other things in the room of course, but nothing Alex wants to take with him. Most of it doesn't even feel like it belongs to him anyways.

It belongs to Alexander Mercer, the quiet, serious boy who studies his Bible all the time and never talks back to his parents and blushes at the thought of holding hands with the pastor's daughter. Not Alex, the snarky, anxious wreck who wrestles with his friends and plays his drums till his hands tremble and curls up against his boyfriend's side at movie nights.

Alex takes a shaky breath. When was the last time he got a proper breath? Has he even been breathing the last hour or so? He's not sure.

He zips up the suitcase, grabs his fanny pack, and texts Willie that he's ready to go. He receives a heart and a thumbs up in less than 30 seconds.

It takes him a minute to get the window open. The last time it got opened was probably last fall or something. As he carefully removes the screen, something moving outside catches his eye.

"Alex?" comes a soft whisper.

"Yeah, right here," Alex responds, placing the screen on his bedroom floor.

Willie appears on the other side a moment later, the dim light from the street casting shadows over their face. Alex feels his lips twist up in his first real smile of the day.

"Hey," Willie murmurs, resting his hands on the window sill. "You wanna get out of here?"

Alex bites back a sob and nods.

It takes them a few minutes to get Alex's stuff out the window and into Willie's car. Once it's done, Willie guides Alex over to the passengers side and helps him in before running around to hop into their own seat.

Willie places the key in the ignition, then turns to Alex. "You sure?"

Alex doesn't hesitate. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."

Willie nods and turns the car on. They drive slowly out of Alex's neighborhood, then turn onto a bigger street. Alex tries to focus on the stores they're driving past to ground himself, but it doesn't work.

What does work is focusing on Willie. Paying attention to the strands of hair that have escaped their low bun to frame their face. Noticing the way his hoodie sleeves are bunched up around his elbows because Willie always runs warm. Taking in the way the tapping of their fingers against the steering wheel matches the beat of the music playing softly from the radio. Memorizing the determined glint in his eyes when the streetlights catch them.

Alex loves them. And he knows that a love like theirs can't be wrong. It's just love, just like anyone else's.

Willie pulls into their driveway and parks the car. Alex looks up at the dark Covington residence and takes in another shaky breath.

"You ready for this?" Willie asks, turning to Alex and holding out a hand.

Alex laces their fingers together and squeezes. The steady pressure of Willie's hand in his seems to relieve some of the tightness in his chest. The caring, concerned look in their eyes removes the huge weight pressing down on his shoulders. The gentle tone of his voice slows the massive waves battering Alex's mind.

"What?" Willie says then, smiling. "What's that look for?"

The question startles a chuckle out of Alex. "I feel like I can breathe better with you around," he answers softly.

"I'm glad," Willie murmurs.

He slowly raises his other hand to cup Alex's cheek, giving him plenty of time to pull away as they lean in. Alex doesn't, instead meeting them halfway in a sweet kiss.

After a second, Alex pulls back. "Shall we get inside?" he says.

Willie nods and gives him a wide smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

[r3zi3]

crying it took me so long to get it and then I saw the added andrew tag

spider pronouns it/ze/bit/xe

[onlysushicat]

bath time

[daisynik7]

Nanami is super into fucking you with his watch on. 

He’ll strip himself completely nude except for his wrist, his fingers massaging your puffy clit until you’re whining against him, already on the brink of an orgasm just from that. He checks the minute hand on his watch, taking a mental note on when you first climax. It’s a fun little challenge he sets for himself: how many times can he make you come within fifteen minutes? Half an hour? A full hour? Sometimes, he takes guesses, and most of the time, he’s right. And when he's wrong, it’s because he makes you come more than he expects you to. Tonight is one of those times. 

He's relentless with his fingers, stroking your pussy up and down, in and out, coated in your arousal. He loves playing with your swollen bud, flicking it until you’re squirming from overstimulation. The slick that gushes out of you is so pretty, all shiny and glossy for him. So inviting for a taste. But no; he’ll resist until he can make you come once more from his fingers. Get you completely soaked so it’s juicy for his mouth. He knows just how much you love coming with his soft lips puckered around your clit, his tongue lapping at your greedy cunt, gaping and desperate to be filled with his cock. By the time thirty minutes pass, you’ve come twice from his fingers, and thrice from his mouth, eating you out sloppily until your limbs feel shaky, body spent but still so needy for him. 

When he finally puts his dick inside you, he uses his watch for another purpose: to edge you so that you can fucking squirt all over him. He pounds into your tight pussy from behind, slamming his hips against your ass, marveling at the way it jiggles with each thrust. You’re moaning from the pleasure, completely fucked out. You want to come again so badly, but he won’t let you. “Not yet,” he growls, turning his wrist to inspect the time. “Be a good girl for ten more minutes, okay? Hold it for me sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

And of course you will, because he’s so encouraging, so sweet, so fucking big inside you, filling you to the brim. When the ten minutes is almost up, he reaches around you, toying with your sensitive clit. You whine, twitching from the sensation, head buried into the pillow, damp with sweat and drool. He leans over you, breath hot on your ear, whispering, “That’s it, honey. Let it all out for me. Make a fucking mess.” 

So you do, spraying him in your juices, spilling onto the sheets below you. He absolutely loves it, seeing you so filthy like this. It’s just what he needs to reach his own orgasm, the one he’s been building up since an hour ago, continuously on the brink ever since your first climax. He comes inside you, stuffing you full of his creamy load only to watch it dribble out slowly as soon as he pulls out. 

His watch is soaked in your essence, but that’s alright. In fact, it’s exactly what he wanted. 

[steveyockey]

save me twitter video demonstrating the different leitmotifs of each challengers pairing twitter video demonstrating the different leitmotifs of each challengers pairing save meeeee

[finemeal]

I see the vision, and I have another thought?

My grandma is retired and VERY independent. She insists on taking care of others and refusing to be taken care of. She’s taking care of her sister right now who can’t take care of herself.

But what does this have to do with Alfred?

Well, I believe Alfred would be proud that the batfam is trying to adjust for certain things he can’t even argue he could still do. But, he would still insist on doing some things he … probably shouldn’t anymore.

Alfred’s pride in taking care of the Wayne family so long wouldn’t allow him to not fight to do as much as he can. He’d be stubborn and refuse to do certain things. In fact, I bet he’d take some of the lack of relying on him personally. Who is he if he isn’t the caretaker?

In my head, the batfam would have to strategically lessen Alfred’s load so he doesn’t push himself in an effort to show that he can handle it. There’d be some trial and error, I bet Alfred would hurt himself somewhat. But in the end I hope that Alfred would accept the help (even if in my head I know he probably wouldn’t).

You don't understand there's a part of me that wants Alfred Pennyworth to never age but there's another part that's like

As Alfred grows older his body grows tired and everyone notices. And for Bruce that's his surrogate father. For everyone else that's Grandpa. Immediately there's a secret boot camp in the Batcave for everyone to start learning how to better care for themselves. Selina Kyle assisting of course.

There's already disability accommodations for Barbara so they just need to tweak and add some stuff. They've learned from her needs and start researching on how to care for the elderly for Alfred specifically.

On paper he's still a butler but really everyone (who lives or stays for a long time in Wayne manor) makes sure they learn how to do the hardwork for themselves. Most of his job is just to be there for them honestly. They insist on doing things for themselves.

But Alfred is Alfred. So he knows what's going on. And he's so deeply proud of them. He doesn't let him do anything he insists he can or wants do himself. He's still his own person after all, and they gradually learn his boundaries and patterns.

Bruce keeps paying him but not in a way you'd pay a butler usually. More in a way where you'd send money to your retired parents.

Do you see my vision?

[stealthrockdamage]

i believe it was sun tzu who said wifi is okay if you're close to the router

[nothing-but-flowers88]

Ok but imagine Obi Wan finally finds out about the chips in the clones’ minds, and at some point Cody’s chip is destroyed and he’s back to his right mind. The second he sees Obi Wan again he’s a mess with remorse and guilt, he knows there’s no way Obi Wan doesn’t hate him let alone love him like he did before the end of the war. He’s apologizing profusely to Obi Wan who is just staring in awe at him. Then it’s that emotional line from httyd 2 and Obi Wan sets his hands on Cody’s face, trying to see if he’s really there, to make sure this isn’t a dream Obi Wan has had time and time again, “you’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

[lovelyscourge]

I know I said I was going to take a break but I can't stop thinking about grinding on someone's thigh, tracing their lips with my fingers before prodding and shoving two digits inside — toys don't speak — and all they can do is grab and squeeze my hips, tits, thighs, whatever. Pushing me away doesn't even cross their mind. They'd droll all over my fingers and I'd praise them for being such a good toy <3

[insufferablemod]

waiting

[pascalssbabyy]

god, i just know it’s big.

[the-stove-is-on-fire]

It's time to bring back the spooky profile pic for spooky season!!!

[kamiraaah]

I'm here to bring silly visuals to just think of; Vovó Bucchi carrying toddler Ruggie in her mouth like some animals carry their young AND baby Ruggie just being smol

In the daytime, I'm Vovó Bucchi. Just a normal girl with a normal life~

[alittlebitofloveliness]

"I stretched out and used Johnny's legs for a pillow. Curling up, I was thankful for Dally's jacket. It was too big, but it was warm. Not even the rattling of the train could keep me awake, and I went to sleep in a hoodlum's jacket, with a gun lying next to my hand." -The Outsiders

Something about this little scene gets me every time because it's such a perfect symbolic representation of a) Pony as a character and b) Pony's place in the gang and it's written as this tiny little 'inconsequential' scene that almost looks out of place on the page but in reality this perfectly shows Ponyboy's youth and innocence (the childlike action of curling up, this visual of lying on someone and also the oversized clothes) while alos hammering home the danger and gravity of the situation (the gun next to his hand, symbolically there for him to take whenever but he never does) while ALSO showcasing the multiple layers of protection from the gang in that Johnny is not only offering him physical comfort he is also staying awake to literally watch over him and Pony is swathed in Dally's oversize jacket which is a shield to him, and later saves him in the fire in the church, further driving home the symbolism of the jacket as a physical representation of Dally's protectiveness over Ponyboy- which of course makes it worse when the destruction of the jacket in the fire is also indicative of the change of Dallas' mental state and the inability for him to protect Ponyboy once Johnny is in peril and eventually dies.