#bathtub separators

[kodaswrld]

hihi!! can I please get some dividers that are more "bath time" themed? (like soap, bubbles, water, mayb some duckies, etc etc)

of course you can! this was a very fun request 😌

please credit me if you use!!

reblogs are more appreciated than likes >,..,<

[s0fti3w1tch]

I finally made some content for the ROTTMNT Sep AU crossover Bathtub Arc™

A Segment from Trainee and Red's Argument

Context: Set right after the events of @red-rover-au's fic Red Rover, RR!Leo/"Red" is recovering after the Shredder.

(further context: TL;DR, Fuller Explanation + text of the beginning part of their argument)

Red, a.k.a. bathtub boy Leo, is @red-rover-au's, and the Leo currently not bleeding out is Trainee, my Tentative Devotee AU Leo :)

Something incredibly funny about the TMNT AU competition was that it came about after the sep AU discord discussed the Bathtub Arc™ with 6 of our Leos. So basically we decided that Tentative Devotee Leo, Life Mission Leo, BloodBath Leo, The Night Leo, and SLAU Leo all went to the AU competition right after this meanwhile Red was in the tub.

[mayashesfly]

Honestly, I really love how poetry and wordplay is such an integral part of Yuma and Makoto's character. How they use such words to reflect on themselves and the world around them.

It truly shows that despite their logical side, despite being dubbed as the "greastest mind of the world", they're still human in essence. Because they can still view the world through colored lenses and the ambiguity of imagination. Of emotions and ideals that are not actually completely rooted in hard cold logic.

The clash of the ideals Yuma and Makoto shares and the creed forced upon them by the WDO meld into a fascinating multi-faceted character. Whose multiple sides we can see and share due to their odd coexistence via strange circumstances. It also somewhat makes it hard to talk about one of them without mentioning the other when they're so interwined together.

I really do love it.

[lousylemonseminar]

Krator tag your reblogs finish that birdbolts fic PLEAASE

Riptide drought doing CRASY things to my Gill characterization,,,,

[fuckingfinwions]

Your mind is fucking awesome. You've completely convinced me of Sam-Dean Maemags. What's the end point, in your opinion? Do they ever come together (in Arda, after the twins leave, post reimbodiment, etc) Hell, even Maedhros dying and leaving Maglor to live life alone like Sam had to live after Dean's death is a near match in theme. I am a romantic at heart and I like to imagine that somewhere thousands of years down the line they share their own little reimbodied corner of the universe just like Sam and Dean share a heaven. Maybe it's a fortress, or a cabin in the woods, or maybe just a little camp in a plentiful forest where they won't be bothered (or noticed, if they sleep in the same bed roll...)

The boring answer is that they never actually commit that final sin/devotion with each other before Maedhros dies, and once Reborn they're no longer trapped together alone. They almost never speak of "how things were in the end", and do their best to ignore how much they need each other. They try to build separate lives as separate people.

But like I said, that's boring.

I think they fuck at least once in the late first age, with a flimsy excuse, probably due to one of their injured pride.

Maglor does a bad job hiding in the woods one time and Maedhros hears someone moving nearby. Maedhros tells him to come out and face me, would you really sneak attack someone who's jerking it? Maglor walks into the clearing so that Maedhros will no it's just him, not an orc or a bandit, and will stop yelling and giving their position away to actual threats. Maedhros says "Maglor!" in surprise, and comes.

After that, the boundary is broken. The other of them might as well stay and keep watch while his brother masturbates. (At minimum Maedhros should get to see Maglor's O-face once, so the intimacy between them stays even with neither having an imbalance over the other (that's a huge lie.) But also it's maybe practical.) The one who's keeping watch has to keep his stare moving, alert for any danger. And when Maglor is masturbating he gazes at Maedhros, so he'll know in an instant if Maedhros goes on alert. Not because he likes looking at his brother while stroking his cock, of course. But they both notice - and say nothing about - that they come faster than when their brother was off in the woods giving them "privacy".

I like the idea of them reembodied in a little cabin together. Somewhere far up in the mountains where no one else goes. Maedhros goes into Tirion for Fingon's centennial birthday parties, and Maglor goes to the every twenty years greatest concert in Aman, and the both visit Nerdanel once a decade. Other than that they keep to themselves. Their family knows that each of them is off living alone in the wilderness, but not that they're doing it together.

They don't get many visitors, but even when they do it's not hard to hide that they're living together. Maedhros will claim to be just visiting, or perhaps Maglor will spot the visitor before they spot him and vanish into the trees for the entire visit. The house has one bed, a few clothes that are short on Maedhros and long on Maglor, a rocking chair and an armchair that perhaps are just fir the inhabitant's different moods. There isn't anything as obvious as only two bowls or plates, they packed up a full set or ceramic dishes and half of it broke when hiking in. So there are three mugs and five plates and two bowls, and you gave no idea how many people live there. The weapons in the closet might reveal that someone is here who favors the longsword, or the bassoon in the corner reveals a musician. But even Curufin, when he visits, just believes that Maedhros visits Maglor more often than he does. After all, the cabin is so tiny, two people could never get away from each other there for even a moment, no one could possibly share that space without going insane.

Fic rec: Strange Currencies by jouissant is about Maedhros being reborn in Valinor, after he and Maglor married each other mostly by accident when wandering dying Beleriand. And elves can see in each other's eyes when someone is married, so Maedhros is trying to avoid anyone else putting two and two together that the brothers were both unmarried when last people saw them, and then wandered off together. It's very good and very similar vibes to this.

[starbiology]

The start of plant watering day

[statisticallymorelikely]

“If I don’t make it back from where I‘ve gone, just know I loved you all along.” - Inkpot Gods, The Amazing Devil

on ao3

It’s the temperature that wakes Hob, but that’s the least of his frustrations on this scorching, summer day. It’s been more than a month of dreamless sleep. Normally, he would have been grateful for the respite, a break in the cycle of nightmares of past sins and painfully pining dreams about his Stranger-turned-Friend. But what used to be a blessing has taken on a different meaning upon learning of his friend’s office. 

He knows it’s not only him. Seems like nobody else is getting a good night’s sleep. People have been more irritable lately, more prone to a sharp tongue. Thankfully, his pub isn’t prone to attract brawlers but if this keeps up, he’s betting Luke will have put someone in a headlock by the end of the week.

Hob shakes off his blanket ��� mentally reprimanding himself for somehow developing the need to have one at all times regardless of season– and rolls out of bed. He goes through the motions of the morning: shower, clothes, breakfast, but his mind wanders, as it inevitably does, toward Dream.

Dream’s visits have always been scarce, even after he graduated into friend status. Though gone are the days of the centennial set up, his lordship is usually too busy to stop by, what with managing the entire world’s collective unconscious. Hob understands, he has duties as well, but he can’t ignore the thrum of worry that lingers at the back of his mind. This has been the longest they’ve not seen each other since he escaped.

He misses him. And now he doesn’t even have the comfort of the fake versions of him in his dreams (the one who holds his hand gently as they stroll through fields of sunflowers is his favorite). The egg spits oil onto his hand and startles him from his thoughts. Get it together, Hob, he grumbles, transferring his food onto his plate with a sigh. He has a pile of papers to grade and really can’t afford to be distracted today, so he bargains with himself: if he can finish at least half the class before noon, he can have ice cream for lunch.

Several hours later finds him hugging a bag of ice with his left arm while his right carefully carries his spoils from the shops: a tub of ice cream and some chocolate biscuits. So what if he fell short of his self-imposed quota, the guy who assigned that bargain is a bit of a knob anyway. He circles round the back of the pub to the stairs that lead to his flat, already looking forward to a bit of mindless reality TV with his ice cream, and then later that night, maybe a cold bath. 

All those plans go up in smoke, however,  the moment he enters his flat. Because the King of Dreams and Lord of Nightmares is lying on his couch, eyes closed, streaks of ash across his thin face, clothes all singed, some spots still smoldering even. 

“Dream?”

“Hob…” comes the feeble croak, and it’s enough to kick Hob into gear.

“Shit, what happened to you?” He dumps his bags on the table and kneels next to the couch, hands coming up but hesitating to touch his friend lest there be some kind of damage unseen. Hob peers closer at his face, notes the pained expression, the flush on his cheeks disappearing down to his chest, the beads of sweat clinging to his hair. Instinctively, Hob puts a hand on his forehead. Dream lets out a soft whine.

“You’re sick.” Could anthropomorphic personifications get sick? “You’re burning up. Christ.”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

There’s no time to unpack all that right now, Hob thinks, as he nudges Dream to sit up, earning him a groan. “You need to take your coat off. Boots, too.”

Dream grumbles out a protest, but lets Hob manhandle him into a sitting position. “Came to tell you something...”

“Later, love. Let’s take care of you first.” 

Hob busies himself with peeling the ragged coat off his friend, careful not to jostle him too much, briefly confirming there are no wounds or damage to his person, then tugging off his shoes, socks and rolling up his pants (ideally, he’ll take them off but he knows Dream can be sensitive about that), before disappearing off into the kitchen to put away his quickly-melting groceries. Centuries of experience has his body back on auto-pilot throwing open all the windows, gathering washcloths, a bowl, and a pitcher of cold water. He can’t help but remember Eleanor, frail body racked with fevers days before giving birth, cheeks glistening with a mix of tears and sweat in the candlelight despite how many times he tried to wipe them clean. A shudder crawls up his spine. 

No, he banishes the memory away, Dream can’t die, can he?

A muffled thump brings him back to the present and he peers over at Dream who’s managed to slump back down, face planted onto a pillow.

“Alright, your lordship,” says Hob, stowing his tray of supplies onto the table before forcing Dream to turn over, shoving a pillow underneath his head and nudging him to make space for him to sit. Dream’s eyes are glazed, filled with dark clouds more akin to smoke instead of their usual galactic blue, just the barest of recognition when he looks up at him.

Hob dampens a washcloth and slowly cleans up his friend’s face, gentle swipes across his forehead, cheeks, jaw and down the long line of his neck, washes away the soot on his arms. He dips it back in the cool water, wrings it out and places it on Dream’s forehead. This earns him a hum of relief and Dream’s eyes flutter open slightly, revealing a little more light in them than a few moments ago.

“There you are,” Hob whispers to himself. 

Despite this improvement, Dream is no longer in any shape to talk other than feverish mumbles of Hob’s name mixed with words from what Hob presumes is an ancient language. Worry still roils in his gut, but without any other knowledge on the arcane, Hob can only treat this as a human can. So he spends the next few hours alternating between wiping down Dream’s face, making him drink cold water (“I know you don’t need to drink, love, but this will cool you down”) and sitting in a nearby armchair reading his students’ essays to him. It’s almost domestic in a way and a familiar ache blooms in Hob’s chest, an ache he bore for centuries but packed neatly away after 1989.

Once the infernal sun has set and the earth starts to cool, a sweet breeze blows through the windows and the entire flat heaves a sigh of relief, the wood creaking as it settles down to relax. Hob is refreshing the washcloth on Dream’s forehead, contemplating whether he can bully his friend into changing into his sleep shorts, when Dream curls his fingers around Hob’s wrist, eyes finally alight with awareness.

His fever has broken. 

Hob nearly crumples with relief, breath shuddering out of him. “You’re actually going to kill me, y’know. Of all the things that tried over the years, worrying about you is the one that’ll actually do me in.”

Dream struggles to sit up and Hob clasps him firmly at the elbow, lifting him, other hand shoving pillows behind his back to prop him up. Pink tinges Dream’s cheeks from the effort and Hob hands him a glass of water, mildly surprised when the Endless takes it and drinks it without protest. 

“Thank you,” croaks Dream.

“You’re welcome, my dear.” Dream’s lip twitches at the endearment but Hob clears his throat, takes his glass and settles beside him on the couch. “So, feeling better? Care to tell me how you got like this? Didn’t think an Endless could get sick.”

“I am not sick.” 

When Dream offers no further explanation, Hob merely pins him with a look and busies himself with pushing back the strands of Dream’s hair clinging to his cheeks, something curls in his chest when Dream turns into his hand, chasing the sensation. If Hob had any virtue it would be patience, and one would think that his oldest friend would be more aware of that, so just like always, he waits for Dream to be ready.

Dream allows himself a few more moments of comfort before sighing wearily. “Hell has invaded the Dreaming.”

“What?!”

“The Lightbringer and their demons have set the Dreaming ablaze, what you call sickness is the manifestation of it in me. The Dreaming is a part of me, I am the Dreaming. The turmoil in my realm also resides within me. There is a war being waged in my bones and I’ve grown weak.”

It takes Hob a moment to process that piece of information, the thrum of worry at the back of his head graduating to full alarm bells. The image of a hundred different wars swim in his mind, unmoving comrades left in pools of blood and mud, villages empty as the landscape burns, the distant sound of children crying, muffled fearfully, the scent of gunpowder replaced by sulfur. The thought of his friend lifeless underneath a burning sky while thousands of demons crow victory. No. It mustn't come to that. Dream is the one link he has to who he is, the one who’s sustained his hope and wonder, he owes him so much, there’s so much he wants to tell him still, he can’t die, he mustn’t–

“Take me into the Dreaming. Let me help.” 

“No.” 

“Let me fight. You looked half-dead a few hours ago, and I’m a soldier who can’t die, remember?” 

“We have had this conversation before. The consequences in the Dreaming are as real as in the Waking world.” Dream’s eyes turn dark, his jaw clenching. Outside, the wind picks up and brings in the smell of heavy clouds poised to rain. “I will not allow harm to befall you, Hob, especially not on my behalf.” 

Hob would normally back off by now but no, this is too important. He leans close, peering into galactic eyes.  “I can’t lose you, please, Dream, let me help.” 

“You have already helped immensely. What you have done has already doused some fires in the Dreaming.” Dream reaches out, curves his long fingers around Hob’s clenched fists, startling the other man, but Dream doesn’t flinch, only patiently uncurls Hob’s hands and clasps them in his own. Rain starts to patter onto the street, gentle at first but gradually making way for larger drops. Dream crooks forward, gently bumping his forehead with Hob’s and they hold there, just a breath between them.

“You have cared for me and tended to me, and by doing so, have given me back some of my power,” he says slowly, deep bass carrying an enormous weight. “I came here to the temple you have built for me because your devotion nourishes me. You make me strong, Hob Gadling. Where I am going, I will need strength.”

“Then take me with you,” Hob pleads. “Please, you’re still recovering, let me be your source of strength wherever you go.”

“No. Where I must go is for me and me alone. I need to end this now.”

Hob knows he won’t be able to convince him, knows this goes far beyond his ken, that he is simply a man in the end and Dream walks where he cannot, with gods and demons and stars. He squeezes Dream’s hands, pressing his lips against his knuckles, in a final gesture of appeal, a few salty tears fighting their way out his eyes.

“Hob,” Dream murmurs, untangling one hand to lift Hob’s chin to face him. “May I tell you what I came to tell you earlier?”

Hob nods. Gently, Dream kisses his lips and emotion floods through Hob’s veins, images of himself marked with a surge of longing, wonderment in the early years, a pang of jealousy as he speaks about his family, gentle compassion for his tormented figure in 1689, blistering lust from 1789. Hob gasps and Dream takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and Hob drowns in himself more, the crinkle of his eyes, copies of his smile, hesitant hands, lips forming kind words, all forms of him from every meeting and every dream he’s ever had and forgotten, all of him singing love, love, love, branding him inside and out. 

Dream kisses him like it’s an introduction and an apology rolled into one and Hob accepts both, accepts his love, allows it to soothe the ache in his chest and reignite it at the same time, to consume him until there’s nothing left..

When Dream pulls away, Hob breathes hard, overwhelmed from what he’d just experienced. Was that what Dream felt all the time? Just a flurry of emotions and thoughts, all consuming, all encompassing, unknowable. Hob understands though what that was, knows enough to tell what a goodbye feels like. 

“Don’t go.”

“I must.” Dream gently wipes his tears, long fingers caressing his eyes, cheeks, the stubble on his jaw, as if memorizing him. 

“Wish I wasn’t such a coward. Wish I’d told you sooner.”

“I, as well,” murmurs Dream, pressing a kiss to each of Hob’s temples. “I will make it up to you, if I return.”

“If…”

“Goodbye, Hob.”

Dream vanishes in a flurry of sand and Hob crumples under the weight of regret and uncertainty.

Outside, thunder claps and the sky cries with him.

[craftandco]

Terrasse pierres plates en construction ... fabrication d une baignoire "sur mesure" ainsi qu' une séparation ch. enfants et s.de.bain...amelioration de la cheminée.... à suivre ...

[i-yap]

Jason todd x reader - clingy thoughts

(guys i have no motivation to start writing most days so like whenever I get comments or requests in my inbox I get rlly excited and actually feel like writing)

if jason could, he would melt his skin so it could stick to yours . He is so touch starved but more than that he is just ...starved. like he hasn't ever had anything properly good in his life. and then you're just there and he doesn't think something better could exist

he wants to look at you, he stares a lot. even when he is cuddling you, he's looking at your hands, your hair, whatever he can see in the position

he likes casual intimacy more than fancy intimacy. like linking pinkies when walking, resting your head on his shoulder on the bus, your legs being pressed against each other when you're sitting on a rooftop. something you'd do without thinking but he is constantly thinking about it.

he isn't the lift and spin sort of guy ( like after a mission or something) he is a holds you and falls to the ground from the pain of being separated from you for too long. he is the don't to dare pull away, tears in his eyes, body shaking sort of guy.

he hates being away from you, even across the table is too far. wants to sit next to you or hold your hand if you're sitting across. make sure the table isn't too big. the distance hurts him, its like he has an internal radar that if you cross , his head goes red .

give him any sign that you are just as clingy or even that you don't hate his guts and he will just freeze. he doesn't know how to reciprocate touch, feelings, words, everything but he really really wants to. so just because he stiffens up when you hug him doesn't mean he is gonna let you leave the hug .

his sweetest words come out at like 4am , when you're in the bathtub, sitting on a roof, eating snacks on the floor of your room or lying in bed . you cant be facing him cause he will forget whaT he wanted to say once he sees your face. he is super tired from crime fighting or after s'x or after a nightmare. don't make a big deal out of it cause he wont take it well and will get embarrassed.

he is just so protective, you rlly cant blame him.

[goldenstring6123]

HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[s0fti3w1tch]

I need to finish the Bathtub arc comic: anyways, @red-rover-au, since current competition Red still has his arm, is he still aware of him and Trainee's argument from that time?

Image Description: Red Rover AU Leo, covered in his own blood, angrily grabs a confused Tentative Devotee AU Leo/Trainee by the front of their gi /End ID

[stevieschrodinger]

This is not how Steve wanted to spend his afternoon.

Actually, he’s found himself doing a lot of things he hasn't wanted to since Starcourt burned down but, honestly, this is probably right up there.

God it’s disgusting.

But he had to try. All the kids had looked at him with their stupid hang dog faces, so he said he’d try. Which is why he’s at lovers lake, freezing his ass off in the water and nipple deep into the shrubbery, ripping slimy crappy weeds and grass out of the muddy lake bed.

At least Robin got in with him. She’s shivering in her bathing suit, but she’s gamely holding onto the cooler as it floats in the water, so at least there’s that.

The bin full Upside Down vines next to the tank hadn't made much sense at the time, but it became apparent pretty fucking fast when the fish creature in Steve’s pool hadn’t eaten for forty eight hours, and Steve was now, finally, sober enough and not concussed enough to put two and two together.

Hopefully this works though; all the kids have, obviously, become immediately like, fucking pack bonded with the thing. Man. Fish Man.

El and Max keep insisting he’s a mermaid – Merman? Merdude? - like he’s something out of a fairy tail and is all magical and shit.

Steve takes a breath and ducks down again, having felt something hairy and frond like with his exploring toes.

“You think this is enough? Like as a fair test?” Robin rocks the half full cooler forward and Steve peeks in.

And alright, Steve just doesn’t want to fucking be here at all, so he says, “yep, looks good,” as they share a lightly guilty look.

It might not work at all, of course, so their wanting to give up is legitimate. They can always come back when it’s warmer if the fish man does eat this shit.

He certainly isn’t interested in the raw fish the kids have been trying to feed him – Steve’s going to be eating fish for a fucking month with what’s in his freezer now, and don’t those reprobates realize the price of fucking prawns??

The fish man wasn’t interested in meat either, not raw, not cooked – even though Dustin insisted that because of his ‘forward facing eyes’, ‘claws,’ and ‘slightly pointed teeth,’ he must be a predator Steve! The vines must have just been for, in his tank, or whatever, Steve!

Whatever.

Steve’s here to prove them wrong, and Robin’s backing him up.

The kids have gone home when they get back, which is a fucking relief. Even with the heaters in the car on full, Steve still feels cold in his bones. His skin warm and tingly, but the shivers still locked inside; him and Robin head for separate bathrooms without even really talking about it, fishboy has survived this long, he can do another twenty minutes.

Steve finds the biggest sting of kelpy weedy seaweedy stuff from the lake, and drags the tip of it in the pool. It’s dark out, the light from in the house reflecting on the surface of the pool, making it impossible to see where the creature might be hiding; until he disturbs the surface, a few seconds later.

Steve splashes the end in the water, “here fishy fishy fishy.”

“Steve,” Robin elbows him.

“What, it’s not like he has a name,” Steve doesn’t look at her though, he’s watching that strange pair of eyes come closer. They reflect the light strangely, like a wild animal in the headlights. His dark hair is plastered to the top of his head, being wet, and everything else is submerged.

Steve knows he can breathe fine for at least an hour out of the water though; that’s how long the rescue took. And then the bathtub; he was fine in there for a day while they drained the pool of chlorinated water and refilled it with fresh. And it was easy enough to get him in there; if he was human, Steve would say that fish dude was starving to death. Concave stomach, all his ribs clearly visible, pale flesh pulled too tight over the knobs of his spine. Steve had lifted him easily, the sad curl of his dull black tail hardly adding any weight to him. He felt frail, breakable; like a bird.

If there’s any lingering chemical in there, it doesn’t seemed to have hurt fishguy, but then a creature from the upside down must be tolerant to plenty, Steve thinks, imagining the constant fall of ashy dust from the dark sky.

The creature cautiously approaches, and when he’s near enough, there’s a gentle tug on the weed, like the most cautious of bites on a line. Steve lets go, and both fish guy and weed disappear under the water.

“Do you think it worked?” Robin whispers, like they’re viewing a skittish wild animal. Which, they kind of are.

“Don’t know,” Steve whispers back, unable to stop himself. There’s just something about someone whispering to you that’s irresistible; it’s like an unavoidable instinct to follow suit.

“How will we know if it’s worked?”

“Dunno. Try another? See if he takes it?” Steve’s just about to break open the cooler again when the head pops up. All of it, this time.

He has dark hair. So dark it looks black; thick and ropey, it kind of reminds Steve of the vines of the upside down. His face is...pretty much human; just very pale. When he’s got his mouth shut, hiding the slight point of those teeth, nothing would give him away.

He lifts a hand out of the water, offering something to Steve who, gingerly but reflexively, takes it.

It’s the stalk of the weed. The leaves are gone, and the fleshy green of the outside has been carefully stripped off; use for those pointy teeth. Steve guesses all the plant material of the upside down is actually probably quite sturdy and quite hard to eat. It probably also has the nutritional value of wet cardboard.

Steve offers another weed, and the fish dude doesn’t leave this time. Steve watches as he eats; quick, practiced movements, trimming leaves with his claws, rolling them, eating them, then just as Steve suspected, using his sharp teeth to strip the outer stalk of all it’s fleshy wet goodness.

Steve doesn’t shudder at the thought of the mud at the bottom of Lovers Lake.

“Steve one, Henderson zero,” Robin says quietly, the fish man tipping his head to the side, as if he’s listening. Steve’s seen it a lot, the amount that the kids chatter at him, but the fish guy tends to stay at the other end of the pool to them. Watching. Nervous, and frightened, if Steve had to put a label on it.

But then, wouldn’t anyone be? Stolen from your world by unrecognizable creatures in hazmat suits. Shoved in a tank. Probably experimented on.

The whole thing sounds shitty.

Steve offers another weed, and the fish guy repeats the process, floating closer still, “Robin, humor me, go and see what’s in the crisper drawer.”

She follows his logic immediately, “on it.”

Steve watches the creature, the fish man, and the fish man watches Robin warily, moving away from the edge again a little, but coming back when Steve offers another frond.

He takes it, strips it, hands it back.

“We need a name for you man, I can’t just keep calling you ‘fish dude’ and ‘creature’ in my head.”

Steve looks over at the house, figuring he has another minute before Robin comes back, he taps the middle of his chest, fishguys strangely gimlet eyes tracking to movement from his too thin face, “Steve.”

Nothing. He tries again, pointing to himself and tapping, “Steve,” and then pointing to the creature, trying to get him to understand.

Fish guy swims a little closer, raising a hand out of the water. Steve sees the stubby but pointy black claws, like little ovals on the end of his fingers. His webbed fingers, Steve sees next, webbing stretched between them up to the first knuckle. He hesitates for a moment, but Steve doesn’t move, wanting to see where this is going.

Fish guy points cautiously at the center of Steve’s chest, close but not touching, lifting far enough out of the water to reveal protruding collar bones. He opens his mouth, and Steve watches with baited breath, fish guy frowning like he’s concentrating, such a human emotion on his face.

Footsteps, then, and he drops back into the water, backing away into the middle of the pool, sinking down so only his eyes are visible. Steve remembers to breathe; he’s not imagining it, something was about to happen. But he can try again tomorrow, once Robin has gone.

“I got some lettuce and some frozen peas,” she whisper hisses at him as she sits again, handing them over.

“Gimme the lettuce,” that seems like the next nearest thing to Steve.

Part two

[emmyrosee]

Imagine having a kid with Sukuna and him urging you to have a day out after giving birth and taking care of the baby so you can have a fun stress free day with friends, and then him having a daddy daughter date. I thought it’s cute 🥰

oh… oh you KNOW HOW I FEEEEEEEEL ABOUT A DAD!AU (bro this got so long im sO SORRY-)

———

“Okay, there’s three bottles of milk in the fridge.”

“Okay.”

“And her melts are in the cabinet!”

“I know, I live here too.”

“Oh! And her stuffed lamb is her favorite to nap with-“

“Babe,” Sukuna laughs, wrapping an arm around you. In his other arm, Akiara is held securely, with an arm under her thighs to keep her perched against his chest, the pacifier in her mouth bouncing as she rattles a small toy in her hands. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but if you need me, call me.”

“I’m not going to call you. Go have fun,” he encourages. Deep down, he knows you’re terrified to leave the baby with anyone for more than 15 minutes, always keeping her in close proximity and within earshot. The farthest you’ve gone is to shower while Sukuna indulges with tummy time, and it seems that every time, you’re surprised the house hasn’t crumbled in the brief period.

But Akiara is five months now. And your friends begged you to come shopping with them, missing you from outings with the group. Sukuna knows you trust him implicitly, but your separation anxiety is physically felt in the air this point. He pulls you in for a hug and presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “go. If the house catches on fire, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I can handle a few hours with my own spawn.” You tense slightly, and he offers you a stern look, “do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but-“

“Then let me take care of everything. Go.”

You offer him a shaky sigh and make your way over to Akiara in his arms, “mommy loves you so much, okay?” You whisper. She babbles and grabs your hair, and Sukuna can see the nervous tears welling up. “I’ll be home in two hours tops.”

“Don’t time yourself,” he chuckles. “Go with your girlfriends. I gave you the credit card, go buy some clothes, or a necklace, or those expensive ass pastries you love so much.” Then, he nods his head towards the door, “scram. Before you cry your mascara off.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Okay-“ you blow them both a few kisses as you slowly make your way to the door, “I love you both so much. Behave. Oh, and nap time is at 1:30-“

“Babe. Go,” he snickers. He watches as you open the door and walk backwards out, your eyes focused on the two of them until the door shuts fully, keeping you outside and them on the inside. Sukuna sighs in relief and he adjusts Akiara to be held arms length, “you, stinky girl, need a bath,” he hums, and when the little girl coos, he brings her tiny body up to his mouth to playfully bite her chubby belly, hiccupy laughter filling the air briefly before he pulls a face of disgust and holds her back out. “Yeah. You stink. Like a lot.”

Sukuna wastes no time in setting up her bathtub and cleansing the tiny child with her soaps, letting her splash the warm water for some time until she reaches up for him. He barely gets her out of the tub and into a towel before his phone buzzes wildly. He sighs and answers it, “do I have to block your number?”

“No!” You whine. “I just wanted to see how things were going. I just got to the restaurant, wanted to make sure everything was okay before I ate.”

“Well the dog got out, I broke a vase and our kid went to college, so not great,” he says flatly, and when you huff in annoyance, and smirks, “everything is fine. She just had a bath, I’m trying to dry her off, and then we’re going to watch some of those dancing fruits she likes so much. Goodbye.”

“Wait- you bathed her before you fed her?” You ask.

He pulls his mouth into a straight line, “yes. Because she smelt like shit fart-“

“Sukuna!” You snap.

“If I have to bathe her again, I will. It’s not the end of the world,” he tries to soothe. When you click your tongue he chuckles again. “Okay. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” you say, ending the phone call. He pockets the device and looks down at his child. “Shes your mother alright,” he says. His daughter merely babbles and chews on her fingers. He gets her settled into a clean diaper before hoisting her back and onto his hip, making his way to the living room, resting her on his massive stomach and clicking on the TV for some entertainment. There’s a baseball game on, surely you won’t mind if he indulges while his baby lays on his chest.

The colors are good stimulation.

“Who you got money on?” He asks Akiara, who blinks eyes like yours up at him. When she smiles a gummy smile, he shrugs, “I don’t know. They’ve got a really good pitcher.” His thick fingers gently stroke up and down her spine, so gently and warm that he feels Akiara’s breathing slowly even out, his little girl falling asleep on his chest. He winces, he knows you’re not going to be thrilled about an early nap time, but who the hell is he to wake a sleeping baby?

A sleeping baby who sleeps for hours. You’re going to be pissed at him.

By the time the game is over, Akiara is still fast asleep on his chest, tiny hands balled into fists as her long lashes lay on her cheeks. Sukuna’s gotta give you credit, you haven’t called or texted since her bath, and now it’s well into four hours since you’ve left and you’re still out with your friends. He’s proud of you.

He’s not sure how long in total Akiara was sleeping for, but not long after the game, she slowly twitches awake, eyes fluttering open before fixating on him. He watches fondly as her body slowly wakes up, starting with her sleepy eyes that blink open, followed by her mouth which opens to let out the smallest yawn.

“Good morning, sleepy girl,” he hums, gently cradling the back of her head. “Was that a good nap?” Akiara merely thunks her head back against his chest in response. He kisses her head softly before standing up, shuffling to the kitchen to grab one of the prepared bottles from the fridge. He pops it in her mouth, where her tiny fists assist him in holding it. The child drinks the milk happily, wide eyes blinking as she downs the beverage hungrily. He smirks, “definitely my kid.”

With that, you come home.

He can tell by the jingling of keys you’re trying to hurry in as fast as possible, and he snickers at your struggle. Once the door finally creaks open, you haul your bags into the home and kick the door shut, smiling as your eyes land on your little family. “Hey you.”

“What’s up?” He hums, kissing you as you get close. “How was it?”

“It was great!” You squeal, and he can’t fight the way his heart squeezes at your excitement. “I got some new dresses, a pair of heels, some perfumes- oh, and I got you a cologne-“

“That’s my girl,” he says, but he can tell your attention is focused on the small girl he’s currently burping, and he shrugs, “you want to take over?”

When you nod sheepishly, he gently passes Akiara over to you, and you coo down at her, “hi, Mumma’s girl,” you coo, and she burps loudly in your face. “Well excuse you!”

Sukuna can’t fight the laughter that barks from his throat, snickers tearing through until you’re smiling and shaking your head, and he pulls you in for another hug.

He loves that his small family fits in his arms.

[slasher-male-wife]

Horror characters seeing their s/o covered in blood

Happy Halloween everyone. I did a poll awhile ago on what I should post for Halloween and this won. So I'm here to deliver what y'all voted on. I included a lot of characters in this just for fun. Disclaimer I haven't written for some of these characters in awhile or that much at all, so sorry if some of these are ooc.

Includes: Amanda Young, Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, The Lost Boys, Candyman, Doomhead, Patrick Bateman, Severen Van Sickle, Pyramid Head, and The Sinclair brothers

Warnings: Mentions of real and fake blood, slightly suggestive content, gn reader, talk of drinking blood in The Lost Boys and Severen's section, violence, murder

Amanda Young

You weren't supposed to find out about what Amanda did. She wanted to keep you separate from the gore of her apprentice work. But accidents happen and somehow you get to where a trap had happened.

You were in the where-house when you slipped on a puddle of blood and got your entire front half covered in it. You screamed out and Amanda quickly came rushing in.

You standing there covered in blood made something tick inside of Amanda. Something she knows she shouldn't feel seeing you covered in blood.

But she pushes this aside and quickly assures you it's fake blood that happened to spill all over the ground. She can't stop herself from giving you a quick kiss before helping you leave.

She'll get you all cleaned up back at home but she won't be able to stop thinking about seeing you covered in blood.

Michael Myers

Michael was out while you were getting ready for a Halloween party. A part of your costume involved you getting drenched in fake blood. After pouring the fake blood all over yourself in your bathtub you let it dry and step out.

You're downstairs, gathering up your things for the party when you notice the feeling that you're being watched. You turn around and spot Michael watching you.

Michael knows what real blood looks like and considering you're pretty calm he knows this is for your costume. But something inside of him is yelling at him. Not in the usual 'kill someone' way, but in a 'get them and try not to hurt them' way.

You're going to be late to that Halloween party. Michael is going to stand there and make you spin around for him so he can watch you move while you're covered in blood. You know he's getting some kind of kick out of this, so who are you to stop his fun.

After this Michael will try to hint at you to get covered in blood more often. He'll even offer to get the blood this time, but it wouldn't be fake if he got it. He'll keep thinking about you covered in blood and won't be forgetting how it made him feel anytime soon.

Otis Driftwood

You walked in on him at a bad time. While you've grown to accept what your boyfriend does, you don't like partaking in his torture of other people. But when you walked into the wrong room at the wrong time you got sprayed all over with blood.

It coats your face, hair and chest. You thankfully didn't get any in your eyes or mouth. You do let out a scream of surprise but you're not too grossed out by the blood, living with the Firefly family for as long as you have will do that.

Otis takes a good long few moments to just stare at you. You're hot enough as it is, but seeing you all covered in blood like this? Otis is going to have to go take a long cold shower.

"Well isn't this my lucky day." He'll say before walking over to you, completely ignoring the victim now. He'll take all of you in and won't let you wash it off so quickly.

"I just wanna take a couple pictures of ya darlin'." He'll quickly get his camera out and have you pose for him while you're still covered in blood. This will come in handy when he's having art block or he just needs to have some 'personal time'.

The Lost boys

It's your first time feeding and it ended up getting really messy for you, considering you've never done it before. So you got just as much blood all over yourself as you did in your mouth.

Dwayne is the first to notice and he's smirking a little to himself as he watches your blood covered body move. He's committing this sight to memory and he'll probably find a way to get you covered in blood again.

David is the next to notice. He'll smile wider than Dwayne and make some comments about how messy eating can get at times. But he'll also talk about how hot you look covered in blood.

Marko doesn't even make a comment, he just straight up lunges and kisses you right then and there, fangs still out and everything. Seeing you all vamped out and covered in blood really got to him, making him loose all self composer that he has.

Paul also joins in on kissing you, but he'll opt for your neck since your mouth is taken. I can see him licking some blood off of you, but not too much because he loves the sight of you drenched in blood. But the boys will agree to try and get you that messy again the next time you feed.

Candyman

You didn't want to go with him. You summoned him and when he showed you how devoted he is to you, you didn't want to go. So he had no other option than to make you go by force.

You're entering your apartment after going to a Halloween party. Your costume was something you put together quickly and involved you pouring fake blood all over your front half. As you walk further into your apartment you get a strange feeling.

You try to ignore it as you walk to your bathroom to wash off the fake blood. Before you can do that you hear something moving in your medicine cabinet. You open it and after a few moments a hook jumps through it. You obviously scream and run out of your bathroom.

You're in your kitchen, picking up your phone when you see him again. He's looking at you with that same adoration in his eye from the first time you met him. He's looking you up and down. You're frozen again as he watches you.

"You're even more desirable covered in blood," He says in his sultry voice. You shed a couple tears as you try to move, but you're unable to. "I'll have to remember this the next time I see you my love. I'll never be able to forget this."

Doomhead

He knew you were going to a Halloween party, but what he didn't know was that you were going to be covered in blood when you came home. He knows real blood from fake blood and when he sees you he can't help but chuckle.

31 is coming up and he's always tried to keep you separate from it. Seeing you covered in blood is a bit of a double edged sword for him. On one hand he loves seeing you covered in blood, but he also can't stop thinking about 31, and what would happen if you got caught in it.

"Ok so I got a little too close to one of the decorations and I accidentally got covered in fake blood." You explain, taking off your shoes, "I should probably shower all of this off."

"Well I was hoping to get a better look at you like this." He says with a Cheshire grin. You roll your eyes but smile and walk over to him. He spins you around a bit, taking a good look at all of the blood on you.

He knows he'll have to tell you about 31 eventually, and that he'll always keep you away from it. But for right now he can enjoy watching his s/o look stunning while covered in blood.

Patrick Bateman

He got a little too careless and right as he was killing someone you walked in, getting covered in blood from the victim. You of course start to scream and he quickly covers your mouth.

He's so angry with you for interrupting this, but something about seeing your face and body covered with blood, excites him. "I can explain this. Calm down and listen to me." He says, trying to keep his voice calm. His anger starts to mix with arousal as he slowly slides his hand away from your mouth.

"Oh my god Patrick what happened? Who is this?" You ask, holding back tears. His attraction to you is starting to get a bit too much for him. He'll find a way to explain this murder, just like he'll find a way to explain why he wants to do it while you're covered in blood.

"He broke in and attacked me. I had to fight him off and I went a bit too hard I think. We can't tell anyone about this alright?" He says, trying his best to keep a calm, in control voice, "But right now we need to get to the bedroom.

Murder's don't get him as excited as seeing you covered in blood got him. He'll have to go out and buy some fake blood and recreate this with you again. He's glad he has such an understanding s/o.

Severen Van Sickle

It's been awhile since your last feed and when you finally got someone you could barely hold back from drinking as quickly as possible. Because you were so worried about eating as much as you could as quickly as possible you got yourself covered in blood.

After you pushed the body away Severen took notice of your blood soaked clothes. He couldn't stop himself from smiling and taking a good long look at you. He knows you'll be too full to do anything after feeding that much so he'll have to commit this sight to memory, just for some fun activities later.

You wipe your mouth and smear more blood over your face and Severen can barely contain himself at this point. He'll have to quickly ask you if you're up to help him, or if he should do it alone.

Either way he doesn't want you cleaning yourself up anytime soon. Even after his issue is taken care of he just wants to see you covered in blood. He loves how it looks in general but also aesthetically. If he has a camera on hand he's taking a picture of you.

He will try to recreate this later. Next time you're feeding he'll try to get blood all over you. I can see him filling up his mouth with blood and just spitting it on you because let's be honest, he's very dirty and probably has as many diseases as a stray cat.

Pyramid Head

You're walking around Silent Hill, trying to find some more food to stock up on when you come across one of Pyramid Head's recent kills. You don't notice and you slip on the puddle of blood.

You're used to the blood and gore of living with Pyramid Head in Silent Hill so slipping on blood and getting it all over your clothes is more of an inconvenience than scary. You groan and stand up, looking at blood slightly dripping off your clothes.

You turn around and find him standing near you. "I just slipped on some blood. It's not mine and I'm not hurt." You say. You can never really tell what he's feeling or his emotions but you can sense he's feeling a certain way about you being covered in blood.

You two just stand there while Pyramid Head is thinking about smearing more blood all over you. Seeing you covered in blood is doing something to him. So he walks over, get's blood on his hands and rubs it over your face and clothes.

He'll follow you around and just keep watching you while you're covered in blood. He'll be thinking about this for awhile, and he'll try to recreate it whenever there's free time or he just needs to see you covered in blood.

Bo Sinclair

You were busy going after a victim and it got a bit messy. You got yourself covered in blood. By the time you get the body back to the House of Wax the blood that's on your hair and face has dripped down to soak your clothes even more.

You hand it off to Vincent and when Bo sees you he pauses for a moment before he chuckles. "I like yer new look darlin'." He says teasingly. But he's using that teasing to mask how damn hot you are covered in blood.

You're able to pick up on this and you know a great way to get him back for making you chase down someone and kill them.

"Oh I know. I love this look too." You say teasingly back to him, moving your hands up and rubbing your hand over your face and neck, getting a good amount of blood on it. You walk over to Bo and smear the blood on his shirt before you step back.

"Too bad I'm about to wash it off." You say before you dodge Bo trying to grab you, "If you catch me before we get to the house I'll let you wash it off." You say before running out of the house, Bo follows behind quickly.

Lester Sinclair

You're helping Lester out by picking up a deer from the road. You're in the middle of lifting it into the truck when something happens and you get covered in deer blood.

Lester quickly rushes over to you and lifts the deer into the back of the truck. He's looking you over and making sure that you're ok. You'll have to assure him at least ten times that you're perfectly ok and that the deer just got blood all over you.

Now knowing that you're ok he does kind of realize that, you look good covered in blood. Lester loves when you get a bit dirty in general, but blood has him feeling a bit more excited than normal.

He'll zone out a bit for awhile until you bring him back and he acts like everything is good and he's totally not obsessing over the look of you covered in blood.

He'll keep this to himself until it starts to boil over and he admits to you that he hasn't stopped thinking about you being covered in blood. If you suggest the idea of getting covered in blood again he'll be all over that idea.

Vincent Sinclair

When you offered to model for Vincent's study you didn't expect to get covered in fake blood. But Vincent wanted you covered in blood and you didn't really mind so that's what the two of you do.

You stay still the entire time but you notice Vincent staring more than he is drawing. But once he notices you noticing him he gets back to drawing you.

He takes his damn well time to draw you and at one point he stands up and walks over to you. He starts to pose you in a different way and it's totally not an excuse to touch you and see you covered in blood up close.

He'll put you in so many different positions and will keep pouring blood on you. He's honestly memorized by you standing there covered in blood. At one point he'll bust out the camera and ask if he can film.

He sees you being covered in blood in a more romantic, artistic way that makes his heart beat faster. He'll have to get you covered in blood more often so he can draw, paint, photograph, etc you.

[blondedmuse]

BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE (BEAUTIFUL PROBLEMS)

synopsis. ꩜ how felix comforts you.

author’s note. ∿ i wanted to write something (kind of) short and angsty so here’s this

When Felix woke up his skin was cold, lacking the warmth your body gave him in the night, his arms holding onto the ghost of you. He lifted his body from his bed, his eyes in search of his room for any trace you you. He couldn’t find anything. He checked the room you were assigned when you first arrived at Saltburn and you weren’t there either—not that you used it anyways. So, he walked downstairs to the dining room assuming you were at the table eating breakfast. While everyone ate at approximately at the same time it was in Felix’s nature to be a little fashionably late.

His assumptions were correct as you sat for the meal, looking down at your food. It was when you looked up at him he noticed something innately wrong, unable to ignore how your eyes were tainted red as they flit around the room, unable to hold his gaze. You hadn’t said much other than please and thank you the entire time, ultimately excusing yourself early, the sound of your feet resounding throughout the house as you walked back upstairs.

“Is she okay?” Venetia subtly whispered to Felix and he shook his head with a shrug. “I don’t know,” He responded seriously. Elsbeth gave her son a look of concern, the green light that it was acceptable to excuse himself.

“If I may, I’m going to excuse myself to check on her.” His parents nodded and he followed the same way you went. He eventually traced you back to the bathroom that separated your two rooms, peeking in the door when he heard your figure slosh in the water of the bathtub.

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly and you nodded. Your knees were to your chest as you held a cigarette in your hand. Felix kneeled beside you, replacing the cig with his hand, putting it out on the ash tray beside the bath it seemed you brought with you. His thumb massaged your hand in silence as if it would magically ease whatever was devastating you—it didn’t, but it calmed the both of you to know that it helped.

“Do you want me to join you?” He mouthed, quieter than the previous question as you looked at him again. Still you didn’t say anything, only nodding as he reluctantly released your hand to remove the clothing from his body. You moved from your position momentarily to make room for him in the bath, sitting in his lap once he was submerged with you.

He didn’t push you to talk but there was something so concerning, persuasive about the look in his eyes you almost felt guilty for staying quiet. Felix would never intend to make you feel that way, there was just something about him that made you want to open your heart to him knowing that he’d keep it safe.

The thought alone made your eyes water like they had earlier that morning, the reason why you left him in bed alone. You rested your head on his chest as you cried, Felix’s arms around you, rubbing at your back as you did so. His head rested atop yours, cringing to himself each time he felt it shake from a sob.

“I’m right here, okay?” He mumbled into your hair. His statement made it seem like he was a few doors down or right next to you, but in truth his body was wrapped around yours, protecting you like a shield from anything that threatened to hurt you. He knew he couldn’t, but right now it was the best he could do.

[sundays-sims]

C Y P R E S S . (early access, patreon)

Hi everyone!

My new Cypress bathroom set is finally here! The set contains 23 new meshes, including lot of vanity counter variations, without and without sinks, wall cabinets. You will also find a vanity stool, a bathtub, some really chunky marble door frames (perfect for wet rooms & showers), towel racks, a mirror with a really cute foggy swatch & wall lights. I also made a fake marble half wall, you can add it right behind the vanity counters & use it as a small shelf.

Please note that this set is NOT meant to be a kitchen counter set, all surfaces are made separately, they have different width to maximize customizability & are all functional as surfaces (not kitchen counters). You can place them easily and seamlessly by having the cheat "bb.moveobjects" enabled in game & ALT key.

I focused a lot on bigger pieces this month but used a lot of my other set's clutter objects for the previews. All the cc used in the pictures is mine, except the windows. The windows are from the Soho set, by Felixandre. In regards of my cc, I used a lot of clutter from my previous bathroom sets (Lombok, Amed, Isla, & Ungasan).

I hope you enjoy this set & happy simming! ♥

↓ details & download link under the cut ↓

DOWNLOAD LINK : [X] (patreon, early access)

SET DETAILS:

Vanity Cabinets (6 versions) - 24 swatches

Tall Cabinets (2 versions, open & close) - 24 swatches

Floating Vanity Desk - 24 swatches

Wall Cabinet - 8 swatches

Single Marble Arch (2 heights) - 5 swatches

Double Marble Arch (2 heights) - 5 swatches

Vanity Desk Stool - 10 swatches

Mirror - 6 swatches

Wall Light - 2 swatches

Bathtub - 16 swatches

Marble Half Walls - 3 swatches

Deco Towel & Bar - 14 swatches

Towel Rack Shelf - 2 swatches

Single Sink Vanity - 24 swatches

Double Sink Vanity - 24 swatches

** cypress will be released (free) on May 31st**

→ terms of use / TOU ← / / → instagram ←

S. xx