#because Maine is nice

[shining-sphinx]

So I got into dungeon meshi and i’ve been telling everyone who I talk to. I love everything about the world, characters, the art, etc.

BUT

People are not kidding when they say that senshi will manifest in your head to tell you to eat better. Like I have a hard time remembering to eat but my brain would be like “you haven’t eaten in some hours, you need a meal” and I would be like you’re very right internal senshi I’m gonna see what I can make. Then I make food??? Honestly Gods sent senshi for helping so many people eat better

[corpse-fairy17]

Real quick:

Does anyone else make headcanons for characters based off real people?

Like, example:

My stepdad is my muse for making Springtrap. Very weird. But only for the normal headcanons.

Like, my headcanon for Springtrap is that he doesn’t have a valid driver’s license but still uses it, while also having a little beat up pick up truck that can’t go into 5th gear and has so many modifications that probably aren’t even legal. Door handles dry rotted? Pull them off and set up a rig where you have to reach through the window to open the drivers side door.

My stepdad is just a silly goofy man who cusses like a sailor and adores Gordon Ramsay. I indeed have a headcanon that Springtrap adores Gordon Ramsay, for entertainment purposes though. He can’t cook to save his life. If he was put in a cooking contest against my stepdad, he’d simply die from shame.

In short; my safe headcanons of Springtrap are based off of a real person.

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 2

these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to

Trigger warning: death mentioned, self-harm mentioned, idk, Danny gets flashback to portal incident

unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 3 (?)

Out, out, out.

He tripped over his own legs and almost fell and it didn’t matter because he needed to get out. 

Away, away, away. 

He wasn’t sure if he ran or flew or dragged himself on the rough floor but he had to get away. His back hit a wall and he couldn’t get past it, intangibility just out of his grasp.

He logically knew that Zeta Tube wasn't the same as the portal but it was similar. So deadly similar.

He wasn’t sure when his own, corps-like, trembling with rigor mortis cold hands started rubbing his arms. He also wasn’t sure whether it was to comfort himself in this lonely self-hug or to try to rub hard enough that the hazmat and skin underneath would be torn, allowing him to see his own, red blood running in his veins. It was still red, right? It was still red, right? Of course it was still running, why wouldn’t it?

His knees gave up. He fell to the ground with quiet reverbatting thump, his eyes fixated on danger at the other side of the large room. He had to get further away but he couldn’t.

Because he was dying again.

Eyes full of tears and terror were jumping around, unable to see the room around him. Why couldn’t he see anything? Why were there only splashes of various colors, all contrasting with a light gray background. Were these people? Colors were moving, that seemed likely. Ghosts?! He had to get ready if these were ghosts he needed to fight them. People could be in danger and he couldn’t even stand without support. He started it, he had to take care of it, no matter how he felt right now.

His normally overly, unnaturally sensitive ears were filled with constant electric buzz from still active Zeta Tubes.

He was quite sure someone was yelling something but no matter what, Danny couldn’t understand what was being said. He tried looking around again but his teary eyes still failed him. There were no red stains though. Not in the right shade at least. No one was bleeding. It was okay for now.

Was it really? He hadn’t bled when he was dying had his accident though. It was all inside him, the crushing hollowness inside him and infinite outside pressure making his body implode. Ectoplasm bubbling in his mouth, throat, stomach and fingers, silencing his scream of agony and destroying his muscles. His limbs were limp and tense, twitching like a broken light bulb, out of his control but not out of his senses. It was so cold that it bit his bones and so hot that his skin was melting. There were screams so loud that it could shatter glass, as if every inhabitant of the Ghost Zone wanted to be heard and absolute suffocating silence. He was alone like nobody ever was and stuck in a stifling crowd that could stomp him to death any second. It was all contrasting, impossible but happening, existing together. He lived died it.

It was impossible, just like him.

There were others, they could help while Danny got himself together.

They couldn’t help if it was a ghost. He had to calm down and get ready to fight.

He couldn’t.

It was all happening again.

He was dying again.

It hurt to even think about.

Would it at least kill him for good?

Air he hadn’t needed before, not since his first death he always needed, like all functioning, alive human beings, got stuck in his lungs. He was gasping for it, choking on it. There was something stuck in his throat. SOme part of his brain that wasn’t screaming in agony and panic and loneliness had considered tearing his neck open just to get whatever was stuck swallowing but it didn’t help. 

He rubbed his arms harder. His eyes were locked on a blurred, still active portal. One of the color blobs moved, growing larger but he couldn’t think about what it meant. His arms hurt. It was good. Pain was grounding. In a gray room with few portals. Not the basement. Ghosts still could be there but it wasn't a basement. He still needed to get ready to fight

If he could feel pain, it meant he was alive, right? Ghosts never showed that they felt pain right? His parents always said they couldn’t.

He knew it was a lie but he felt like it was his last hope.

He realized that growing group of colors actually looked like a person but he had no way to tell whether they were alive or not. His ghost sense was quiet but he didn’t trust himself to not miss it. His throat was still shut tightly. His body kept twitching like a glitching character. No matter what, he couldn’t fight right then. He had to get himself together.

He scratched his arms almost violently.

Warm, soft, gentle hands pried his palms away from his arms. It wasn't a ghost. Ghosts weren't this gentle, this calmingly warm. Someone, someone who was alive, was crouching in front of him, face at the same level as his, hiding portals from his sight. Danny nearly sunk into their gentle touch.

“-om." their voice also was so gentle, filled with concern but firm enough to get to him over the buzz of portals. He tried to concentrate on this voice. He didn't want to hear portals.

"-ntom." It sounded like they were calling someone. He had to focus more to understand. Gentle grip on his wrists got more firm. There he was. He wouldn't feel it if he was dying again.

"Phantom." They called quietly, like little windbells Sam gave him as a birthday present. It was his name, they were asking him something he couldn't understand, something he couldn't do.

"I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if any sound came out of his mouth.

Grip on his hands loosened a little, not enough for him to do anything about it, but enough to return to the pure feeling of safety and reassurance it gave him before.

“It's okay Phantom." they murmured. Danny nearly cried at their kindness and calmness. Air slowly started to fill his lungs again. It truly was okay, he wasn't dying again."Can you focus on five things you can see for me?"

He could do it. It wasn't much to repay the gentle person kneeling in front of him.

He blinked tears away and started the list in his head.

Black Canary in front of him.

Superboy in the middle of the room. He looked like he didn't know what to do.

Kid Flash next to him, ready to come to where Danny was shaking on the floor.

Robin and Artemis both made sure that Kid stayed where he was.

Miss Martian for sure feeling his panic and having trouble coping with this. He should calm down as soon as he can, he didn't want to cause any of his teammates too much stress.

Danny nodded, looking once again at the only adult hero in the room.

Molecules in his body were rearranging again. It all hurt.

"Thank you Phantom. Can you focus on four things you can hear?"

Five racing heartbeats.

One heartbeat that sounded more like buzz because of its speed. KF's heart was always weird.

Tapping of someone's feet.

Zeta Tubes.

He had been in the portal again, it had turned on with him inside again. He was dying again.

Next cautious nod.

"Alright. Now three things you can touch." Black Canary still sounded so calm, so sure she had it all under control. So contrary to her panicked heart. Danny wanted to believe her voice.

Canary's hands still on his wrists. In fact she was touching him more than he was her, but it still counted. There was some physics rule about it.

Cold stone he was sitting on. Weird, he was sure this cave was heated.

Hard wall pressing on his spine.

"Excellent. Two things you can smell?"

Jazz had done same exercise with him before.

Cookies made by Megan before she went on a mission.

Ectoplasm. Somewhere there was ectoplasm that wasn't inside him. He couldn't smell his own ecto. But there was no ghost in the cave. His sense was silent. It was there somehow else. It was concerning but not enough to make him panic again. They could handle it.

His lungs were still aching but air started filling them nearly as much as it did normally. His limbs stopped shaking so much too. He knew he wasn't dying this time. He was calming down.

"You're doing great Phantom. Now think, what's one thing you can taste?"

Aftertaste of ectoplasm he spat between the rough fight and the moment when Kid Flash rushed him to the nearest Zeta Tube, talking about medical attention. Danny tried to tell him, he didn't need that but he was inside before his explanation left his mouth.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah," It was all he was able to say at the moment. He truly felt better but that didn't mean good. It was only a little less bad than shitty, one step from fully dead.

I considered writing continuation with Danny explaining a bit what happened and how he even ended up in Zeta Tube but a) lost spark to rewrite it b) hated what already had But if you want, I can probably rub my remaining two braincels together and continue. Or someone else can. Do it if you want to. Do it. Do it

[1v31182m5]

The sessions get longer each time

[obsidian-blade-of-badassery]

from a convo i was having with somebody about fnf

[vinnystaysawake]

There is a "University of Kentucky" themed café in Japan themed off American Diners. By the way. Anyway here's Kentucky Miku!

[becca-e-barnes]

Cannot stop thinking about making a really submissive Bucky cum until he can't anymore 😵‍💫

I love the thought of working load after load from him and the way that he'd go from being pretty quiet and composed to whimpering and writhing, unsure if he needs more or less of your touch.

Getting him to a stage where he feels empty. He feels like he has nothing left to give you. You've made him watch as you jerk him off with a delightfully lubed hand, squeezing and tugging until his cock is twitching and throbbing and shooting thick, messy stripes of cum against your palm. You don't stop after he's finished though. His release only makes the glide of your hand smoother and the sight of his own pearly cum being worked back over his cock makes him hard again in no time.

"Please." He groans, throwing his head back, exposing his beautiful throat. Your hand tightens around his cock involuntarily and you find yourself almost wishing you had your other hand around his neck. "Please don't make me cum again. I-I can't."

Bless him, his strong thighs are twitching, his muscles tense, trying to force his body to listen to his brain for just a second.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you're empty yet. You gave me so much cum just a few minutes ago." You let yourself give in just a little, leaning over and kissing along the column of his throat, enjoying the light salty perspiration against your lips.

Bucky rolls his hips but it's hard for him to tell if he's trying to lean into your touch or away from it. In truth, he loves feeling like this. He loves having his cum milked from him and having no choice but to enjoy the mind numbing pleasure of your body.

His thighs are streaked with evidence of his own lust and he's almost ashamed that he's still hard. Not just as hard as he was when you started though.

"F-Fuck." The slick sound of your hand pumping him quickly is overwhelming. Your grip is tight on his shaft while you cup his balls, squeezing and teasing them gently, encouraging them to work overtime for you.

"I can't cum again. I can't." Bucky pants, whimpering when he forces his eyes to meet yours again.

"You told me that last time. I'm not sure when you decided it would be a good idea to lie to me but I promise you, it isn't." Your tone would make him tense but he's tense already, trying to hold back an orgasm he truly doesn't need.

"This is the last orgasm I want from you. You can manage it for me, can't you?" You sound so sincere this time, he can't help but agree.

"Good boy. Now cum nice and hard for me. I want to hear how pathetic you sound."

For the next few minutes, there are no sounds except the delightfully wet sound of your hand working lube and cum against his dick and the frantic moans of a man reaching a level of pleasure that verges just nicely on painful.

When he does cum, you let it splash against your palm once more and you notice how little he's able to provide you with. He's entirely empty, legs shaking but babbling how grateful he is for the way you touch him.

Now that he's spent, it feels like your turn to enjoy yourself while he watches and nothing sounds better than touching yourself with the hand that's covered in his cum.

[lucksea]

havent decided how i want the introduction to go yet but i imagine it would roughly be one of these two

[gunsatthaphan]

"I'm not afraid."

[plutonious]

experimentation is forever and ever and emmet is guinea pig

[ahappydnp]

what's really hitting right now is how much we love the Real Life version of them.

idk know how to explain it but back when dan was gone and we hadn't seen them together in a long time, when i thought about them i envisioned the romanticized/timeline lore/grandiose fictional version of dnp? the whimsy and hope and beauty of it all

but the past few months have just been them as they are. that barrier is gone between us and it doesn't feel like we're witnessing a performance to react to, but being invited to exist in the same space as them.

they're real people who are more genuine than they've ever been and we love them even more and in a better way because of it. idk dude. i just genuinely love those two humans and it's truly a privilege to be let in and exist alongside them

[jils-things]

my mains in ranked matches C:

[somegrumpynerd]

It's interesting to think about how, to me at least, Dust and Killer are like mirror versions of each other.

One who joins a villain enthusiastically, jumps at the chance to leave his past behind and have a purpose again, and the other who has to be dragged in, would rather rot in the consequences of his own actions.

One who needs orders, needs the distraction and the action and the thrill, can't sit alone with his thoughts for too long lest he hear them clearly, and the other who can't bring himself to ignore the ghost over his shoulder, would rather sit in place and listen to his own self loathing parroted back at him than stand up and find a way to drown it out.

One who doesn't associate with his past anymore, that wasn't me and I wasn't him, and cannot stand the thought of going back from where he came, and the other who wants nothing more than to be his old self again but feels so strongly that he doesn't deserve to return to the life he tore down himself.

They both wear their new names like dog collars, but one is a gift given by someone else because he's theirs, he has somewhere he belongs that he's expected to return to, and the other is a choker tying him to a post, warning others of his danger while never allowing him to get out of arm's reach of his past.

And getting them both back-to-back while trying to understand mortals was probably enough to give Nightmare whiplash

[wandixx]

Halloween dress-up, let's go!!!

Assignment: "Dress up as ghosts".

Status: Yes. They're ghosts. Just really different types of ghosts

[moonpaw]