#carpal tunnel can’t keep me down

[v0ids0up]

hey gang i’m back from the dead

here’s my final screen printing project wooo !!!

[after-witch]

Ragdoll [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Ragdoll [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Your back hurts and Mahito fixes it for you. inspired by snatches of conversation with @absolute-flaming-trash as so many Mahito things are!

Word count: 500ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, body modification

“Well? How does it feel?” Mahito asks, and whenever Mahito asks, you are bound to consider the answer. Whether or not you actually give it depends on the day and time and how much you’re willing to endure.

You’re… Weightless. That’s what you feel–no, no, no. That’s wrong. Not weightless. There is weight to you. You are not some candy floss being tossed in the wind by a child uncaring of the time spent crafting it, hot metal bowls and spinning sticks and carpal tunnel from too many summers on a carnival job.

You have weight, but it is thick and slimy and moveable, like a glob of remorseless slime built up in a forgotten bathroom sink. Or something heavier, filled with beans or sand or stuffing.

A doll, maybe? Oh, yes.

A doll. A ragdoll. The kind your grandparents gifted you when you were little, because it’s what they grew up with on the dusty old farm, and your parents cooed over her yarn hair and homespun look.

But you shoved her onto the decorative chair in the corner of your bedroom and never played with her because you wanted something chic and fun, a doll with brushable hair and clothes that came off. 

Now you’re stuck in that corner chair, or you would be, except Mahito wants to play with you. Likes to play with you. Likes to hold you, like he’s doing now, humming and holding out one hand so all of your weight slides to one side and the only thing keeping you upright is the grip of his fingers.

Then flopping you to the other side, and doing it again, and again. Then holding you close and down, like he’s dipping you in a dance. 

He could let you go and you’d fall, a heap, onto the floor. Would it hurt? Maybe the rest of you would.

But not your back. Not your spine. He replaced it all with gelatin or goo or slime or whatever he’d decided upon, after you’d begged and begged and begged. Chronic back pain was a bitch. Chronic back pain when you were sleeping on floors and hammocks was bitchier. 

“It hurts so much. I can’t stand it. Please, please, please.”

And he’d tickled his fingers up your back–it hurt, too–and smiled down.

“You really want me to fix you?”

And you did, and he did, and here you are now.

Weighty and weightless all the same, his pretty ragdoll. 

Only he can brush your hair and change your clothes and maybe that will keep him from shoving you into the corner and forgetting about you. 

The thought is too far back to be anything more than a gnat you’ll swat when it comes closer, though. Because your spine is jello, sure, sure, sure. But it doesn’t hurt. And you can’t strain a ligament or herniate a disc when there’s nothing there to hurt, can you? 

It doesn’t hurt, for once, and that’s enough.

Mahito drops you low, again, catching you before your head smacks against the concrete.

He smiles. 

So do you.

[abbyshands]

abby drabbles for vday <3

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; hey, all, happy valentine’s :) i was originally gonna have a fic for this but i was only able to do a few drabbles today &&& i don’t like any of them but it’s fine. also, woeeefully i have carpal tunnel, so with that and me needing to focus more on speaking out on palestine, fics will be more inconsistent (dw btw i am very much fine, just need to rest my hands <3 [which i obv did not do when i wrote all of these so quickly!])

♡ INCLUDES: sub!cam girl!abby bench pressing w/a vibe between her legs, dom!rival prosecutor!abby fucking you in her office, sub!football abby x dom!nerdy!reader

P.S.; please keep in mind that palestine is very much still bleeding. please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don't stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking, demanding you to take the side that i'm on. free 🇵🇸, always.

LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help I places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more

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a/n; ib by this post! <3

♡ imagine cam girl!abby, 185 pound barbell in her veiny hands as she pumps the load up and down, muscles flexing under the pressure. her face is red, body slick with sweat as her figure caves. you’re looking at her from the end of the bench, poised between her legs as you watch her workout. you crank the setting of the vibrator up for a third time, feeling your own heat build up as you listen to her whine and whimper. “come on, baby. just a few more reps for me, you got it,” you coo, knowing how close she is, hands weakening as the pleasure bubbling up in her core battles to take control. her filming camera’s in your hands, the one she used to go live and make videos with on a daily basis. you pan it to the wet spot that’s visible on her gym shorts, the smirk on your lips widening as the view nearly makes you drool. “look at her. so pretty like this, such a desperate girl,” you whisper more to yourself than to abby, earning a whorish whine from her lips as she pushes the bar above her head again and again. “mmm, s’that feel good, baby?” you coo as you bring a finger up to rub her over her soaked bottoms. abby’s face scrunches as she throws you a bit of an attitude. “y- you know it does,” she nearly snapped at you, and you can’t help but laugh. “hear that? she’s getting bratty with me,” you say, making sure to zoom in on her shaking legs as you give her thigh a small slap, earning a yelp from abby. you know full well her fans are going to go wild for this video, perhaps even more than you. when abby finishes her reps, body too weak to go on, you prop the camera up beside yourselves and place your hands on the sides of abby’s thighs. “good girl. did so well for me, didn’t you?” you ask, the only other noise being the buzzing of the vibe and the sound of abby’s little whimpers. “y- yes, ma’am, i did. n- now please let me cum,” she begs, and you feel merciful. you crank the vibe to the highest setting, and apply more pressure to her pussy with your fingers. you thumb her clit in circles, and watch as abby’s abdomen begins to tense. you push her shorts out of the way for better access, and remove the vibe to pump your index and ring into her soaked pussy, fingering her like a fucking pro. “f- fuck, so close, please, don’t stop,” she whines, and it’s not long before you’ve got the cam girl drenching your fingers in her cum, hips bucking for both you and the camera as it captures every little second <3

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♡ imagine rival prosecutor!abby, who you just won a huge case to, grabbing you by the wrist the second she could, and yanking you into her office. she was bending you over her desk at a rapid speed like she had so many times in the past, forcing you to take the seven inch strap that’s considerably a part of her at this point. “fucking whore. always fucking up my cases. let me show you how that, fuck,” she says as she thrust into you, deep, “fucking feels.” you only get to feel her when you make her lose a case, being the only way she can properly get her anger out. sometimes, you almost want to lose your cases on purpose. “well, maybe you should do your job better,” you challenge her, and, god, she does not like that. she grabs you by the neck as she pounds into you from behind, thick fingers digging marks into your skin. “don’t talk to me like that,” abby remarks as she pushes herself as deep inside you as she can possibly go. she’s so down and dirty with you, using your body like a toy, then discarding you until the next time she loses a case. “f- fuck, a- abby,” she’s got you stuttering soon enough, brain foggy with your own arousal. abby quickens her pace the second she can feel you getting closer to your high, chuckling. “yeah, you like that, huh? get so cockdrunk off this dick every time,” abby grunted. when your moans get too loud to the point where she thinks you’ll make the whole office hear, her large hand covers your lips, muffling those sweet, little noises. “shhh, shhh, baby. you’re my whore, mine alone. don’t want anyone else to hear those cute moans of yours,” she teases. soon enough, she’s got you soaking her cock in your cum, a whiny mewl of her name muffled by the hold she has on your lips. once you’re finished, she very briefly cleaned you up. but then, once she was done, negligence. “abby—“ you begin, ready to beg her for a little more of her attention. but she cuts you short. “none of that. you know this, sweetheart. i’ll fuck you when i lose.”

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a/n; very much inspired by this :3

♡ imagine sub!football!abby (x nerdy!reader) winning the last game of her season. there’s an after party, of course there is, but the buff girl who’s dominant in every aspect of her life, almost, can’t resist spending some time with her girlfriend first. “yeah, honey. played so well for me, didn’t you?” you coo as abby grinds her pussy desperately into your body, your hands digging into her hips. abby’s gorgeous nipples are bouncing up and down before you, perfect, and you make sure to take one of them into your mouth whenever one’s close enough to your face. “mmm, f- fuck, i did, baby, i did,” she moans, voice needy as she thrusts her naked body into your own. the friction she feels from the denim material of your jeans drives her crazy, rubbing up on her clit in the best way possible. your glasses fog up each time you pull her down for a sloppy, wet kiss, tongue dancing with hers as she grinds her pussy into you, desperate. “such a good girl. that’s it, reward yourself, baby,” you encourage her as she goes on, rutting herself into you. she moans as your pants brush up on her clit, burying her face into your neck to bite it, stifling the whiny moans falling from her lips. your hands grab her ass, gripping it as she pushes herself against you as hard as she could. “f- fuck, i love you so much, love you so much,” abby lets out in a whiny moan, easily making you smile. when you’ve got her on the brink, you take one of her breasts into your mouth, tongue swirling skillfully around her nipple. you give her a few small slaps on the ass as she chases her high, cumming all over your jeans in the end. you smile as you cup her reddened cheek, kissing the tip of her nose as she panted out heavily above you. “there’s my football star.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

[glade-constellation]

Breakfast and Braids

Soleil x Reader, Sunspot x Reader

Summary : This morning just happened to be the morning your carpal tunnel flared up. You’re used to pushing through it, it was common in your field of work. This morning also happens to be the morning two of your housemates step in to help.

Trigger Warning(s) : None

Rating : T, SFW

Word Count : 3736

Extra : This AU belongs to @venomous-qwille ! This was originally just supposed to be with Soleil, but Sunspot snuck his way in and I decided to let him stay. I really hope this turned out okay <3 I had to use Google Translate for any French that shows up, but I did try to look farther into what it was giving me before using it. Sorry if it’s inaccurate.

“What, pray tell, are you doing?”

The sudden presence of a voice from behind made you jump with a start. While you did have the bathroom door open to let the shower steam out, you hadn’t exactly been expecting someone to pop in while you were making use of the mirror. You only expected to be in here a short while longer anyways. An undignified yelp slipped through your lips, which was quickly followed by a soft string of curses as you watch your hair fall from between your fingers.

“Language, friend,” the voice spoke again.

You were usually a little better about your words since arriving at the Mill. Not great, admittedly, but you knew courser language triggered unwanted coding for some and was genuinely unliked by others. That was usually enough to keep you from blurting out anything too bad.

That being said, there were moments where you still couldn’t stop them from slipping out, and being jumpscared was definitely one of those moments. The growing frustration with your uncooperative hair didn’t help.

Placing a hand over your chest and leaning heavily on the sink counter, you look up into the mirror to find your most recent spook. Blue-lavender eyes stared back from the doorway in an unamused but questioning stare. “Sol,” you breathe out, “ you scared me.”

There was an impression of him lifting an eyebrow as he continued to stare at you in the slightly fogged glass. “Sincerest apologies, but I thought you were well aware of my presence since I stepped in.”

Your own brows wrinkled at his wording, almost scared to ask, “...How long have you been standing there?”

Instead of answering, Soleil simply stepped fully into the small bathroom and walked to your side. You turn to meet him as he steps up to the counter, eyebrow lifting as his silk-covered hand reaches up to softly run through your still damp locks. “You never answered my question. What were you trying to achieve with tangling your hair farther than it already was?”

The urge to roll your eyes arises, but you instead sigh heavily and drop your head into your hands. A quiet hiss leaves your lips as his fingers snag on the aforementioned tangles. “Fais attention mon ami!” Sol is quick to admonish as he gently removes his hand from your hair, “You really do need to take note of your surroundings more.” You decide not to dig yourself any farther into this hole and instead answer his previous question. With your hands over your face, though, it comes out more like mumbles to his audio receptors. The solar bot reaches up and grabs your wrists, causing you to stiffen for a moment before he continues gently moving your hands down. “Mumbling is unbecoming of you. Let’s try that again.”

“I was braiding my hair,” you try again, not meeting his gaze. Braiding your hair wasn’t hard. Usually. This morning just happened to be the morning your carpal tunnel flared up. The numbing feeling was not helping the fine motor skills of your hands, nor was the occasional tinge of pain if you moved your wrist a certain way. “The feeling of my hair on the back of my neck has been bothering me lately, and it being wet isn’t helping.”

The earlier impression of exasperation comes back when he remains quiet, but you can’t be quite sure without looking for the subtle movements of his face. You didn’t really want to do that, though. You’d always been told that your expression was easy to read, and your new housemates didn’t miss anything. You didn’t need Soleil to see the red covering your face in your embarrassment. Not that it really mattered. He was probably already aware of it.

You only move to watch Sol as he pulls back from you, eyes tracking him as he grabs a clean towel from the rack. The sound of rustling fabric hits your ears as he lets the towel unfold. At seeing you watching him, he throws the towel over his shoulder and grabs your own shoulders in his hands. The push is gentle as he turns you back towards the mirror. You feel yourself tense slightly at the looming presence suddenly standing at your back, his tall stature and the typically off-putting air around him culminating into an oddly intimidating sort of vibe. It’s not purposeful on your part, just instinct at the new unknown feeling, but it still leaves you feeling guilty as he definitely notices the movement.

You open your mouth to apologize, but only get that far as he begins massaging the tense muscles, “Détends-toi, mon cher.” The words are light, not quite a whisper and full of Sol’s usual not-quite cheeriness. Blue-lavender once again comes into your sights as you look at his expression in the mirror. It’s always a little difficult reading his emotions, for many reasons, but this look was something you really couldn’t understand. Funnily enough, something about it allowed for you to relax in his hold.

“Sorry,” you finally whisper out.

“No need for apologies,” he replies back, removing his hands to grab the towel again. “Now, let’s get this hair dry before you catch another cold.”

Fingers meet your scalp from under the cotton as Soleil tenderly begins working at the dampness. Soft but steady movements cause your eyes to slowly shut in contempt, easing you into a state of rest as you lean into the touch. You don’t realize how far you’re leaning into the touch until your back hits something solid. Your eyes fly open, slightly panicked at how he might react to you now propped up against him. Surprise hits you as all he does is freeze for a moment before he continues.

You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting. Him pushing you off his chest, maybe? A scolding? This, though, definitely wasn’t it. Your eyes track up the glass to check his expression, only to find he now looks complacent. No, there was a different word for this. This wasn’t him being smug, this was something almost soft. Content, maybe? That still wasn’t quite the word you were looking for, but it was the closest thing to what you were grasping at. Scared to be caught simply watching him, you close your eyes again and lean back into his touch.

The moment ends all too soon in your opinion, even if you knew it had been a decent few minutes. Hands retreat from your head, taking the towel with them as he returns it to his shoulder. Once free, though, his hands are quick to grab your waist. Nothing happens for just a brief second, but it’s enough for your thoughts to freeze with him. He then pushes you forward off of him and breaks whatever that fleeting moment was. Soleil gives a soft squeeze before releasing you, the look in his eyes gone as he steps back, “All done.”

Turning, you face him. Part of you wants to question what he was doing when he froze. He’d just stood there, eyes locked on the reflection in the mirror. But you decide against it. It wasn’t the only odd behavior you’d seen from him since he walked in, and you weren’t about to start an argument with him over it. Instead, you give him a smile. “Thank you, Sol.”

He blinks down at you, almost seeming to process something before his smile widens slightly. “You’re welcome.” Before the conversation can be continued, Soleil reaches past you to grab the small bag of hair supplies laying on the counter and exits the bathroom. “Come along,” the solar bot calls behind him.

“Wait, what?” You take a step back and stick your head out the doorway, “Hey, I kind of need those! What are you doing?”

Soliel stops just long enough to turn and explain before continuing on his way, “I was sent to collect you for breakfast. Sunspot is probably wondering where we are by now.”

“And my stuff? Last I checked, we didn’t need hair product to eat.”

He remains silent, leaving you to huff in frustration as you jog to catch up with him.

—— • ——

“Ah, Solly! Welcome in!”

Even if he didn’t physically show it, the mental eyeroll he gave could be felt from where you stood behind Soleil. “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Fool?” he asked as he stepped farther into the kitchen to allow you in.

Before you sat the aforementioned jester, along with Sunspot standing across the table. The android’s face was half hidden behind a bundle of something you couldn’t quite make out before it was set down. Your name slipped past his lips with a smile, “I was wondering where you might have been!”

Soft laughter came from you as you remembered what Sol had said earlier in the hall. “Hi guys,” you said with a wave, “Joining me for breakfast?”

You almost jumped when Fool suddenly slumps heavily across the bench, looking almost as if he powered down. It wasn’t until his hanging hand lifts up to his forehead that you relax. Dramatic as ever. “Sadly, I must take my leave,” he cries, “Lest the red queen have my head today.” One of his closed eyes cracked open to stare at Soleil with a growing grin. Sol visibly bristled, causing you to tense in preparation for a possible altercation, before Sunspot broke into the conversation.

“Please let us get through breakfast before starting anything. Everyone has work to be done today, meaning some of us need to eat.” The android looks pointedly towards you during his last sentence. His strained smile was enough to show his current displeasure.

Sol almost seems to imitate taking a deep breath in before his shoulders relax slightly. “Agreed,” he hisses out in strained false merriment.

Fool jumps up from his seat, giving a soft bow and a mock kiss to the back of your hand before he makes his way out of the room with a whistle. The tune isn’t one you’re familiar with but definitely something you’ve heard from him before. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Soleil track his movements with a half hidden glare before making his way to the table. You wonder if him taking Fool’s seat was a weird sort of victory celebration, or simply because it was right next to your slowly cooling food. Maybe both.

Quick to follow his lead, you sit yourself on the bench next to Sol. On the plate before you lay two cinnamon rolls, decorated with blueberries and cut up slices of strawberry. Your mouth waters as the sweet smell hits your nose. “These look incredible, thanks Sunspot,” you compliment with a smile before reaching up to grab one.

A small but sharp pain radiates from your wrist, causing you to wince slightly. Right, that. You hope that neither of the bots in the room spotted your moment of pain, but it’s quickly dashed as you spot Sunspot’s concerned look across the table. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” you try to soothe. “Just a little carpal tunnel. I’m used to it.”

Your wrist is gently snatched up for the second time that morning and Sol mumbles something to himself in French. You want to remark something about how “mumbling is unbecoming” but, with his buttons already having been pushed moments before, you keep it to yourself. Instead, you watch as he lightly begins to press on certain parts of your hand and arm. He’s quick to loosen his thumb on your wrist when your whole arm jerks back. “Easy,” you hiss in pain, “I literally just told you what was wrong.”

Sunspot suddenly appears at your other side, softly taking your arm from Soleil’s grasp to begin his own inspection. “Have you been stretching your hands before working? Do you have a brace to sleep with? How long has this been going on?” The questions are rapid fire, but he’s quick to stop himself when he realizes.

“It really is fine guys. I usually do stretch my hands, but I’ve been a little preoccupied. Guess it just slipped my mind.” Your fingers flex absentmindedly as you speak. “The numbness started yesterday but it wasn’t terrible. Didn’t think much of it honestly. I do have a brace, I just was too exhausted last night to remember to wear it.”

Guilt stirs in your chest. You finally glance at Sunspot out of the corner of your eyes, “Sorry. I know I promised.”

He looks at you for a moment before sighing. You internally relax as he gives you a smile. A hand reaches up to move across the top of your head and rest at the back. “We’ll talk about this later, right now you need to eat.”

The imitation of someone clearing their throat comes from your right, causing you both to look up at Soleil. His eyes were locked on Sunspot’s hand for a split second before he looked between the two of you. He reaches into your bag he brought with him and lifts up the brush, “Your hair is dried, but still tangled in knots. Better to deal with those now before you forget.”

Blinking, you remember why Soleil was even here to begin with. “Oh, right, that,” you breathe out, mostly to yourself.

You feel the hand on your head run slightly through your hair before retreating. Sunspot gives a hum as he looks between your plate and the brush in Soleil’s hand. “How ‘bout this,” he proposes, “If you face me, Soleil can work on your hair while I help you eat.”

“Um, what?” you ask dumbly. It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, a blush spreading across your cheeks, “I can feed myself, thank you.”

“This isn’t me trying to baby you,” Sunspot comments, knowing you weren’t fond of codling. He looks from you to the plate as he pulls it slightly more his way. “This is more me genuinely monitoring your health.”

“It’s better to rest your hands when you can. Otherwise it’s just going to get worse,” Soleil cuts in.

You take a moment to think as you look between your two sunny companions. Neither of them would push you if you truly didn’t want to. Well, Soleil may push, but he wouldn’t force. There would just be a possibility of more passive aggressive comments if you said no. With Sunspot there would just be disappointment. You had just talked about your promise to take better care of yourself.

Slumping in defeat, you nod your head. “Fine. Fine fine fine, we’ll do that,” you give in, causing Sunspot to give a bright smile. Turning yourself on the bench with your legs crisscrossed, you face him with your back to Soleil.

The bench groans slightly as the taller bot shifts behind you, turning to straddle it as he moves closer. Thighs press against your own as Soleil situates himself to have better access to your hair. It’s funny, you note, that his presence doesn’t cause you to tense like it did earlier. You’re able to turn your full attention to Sunspot before you as Sol begins to work the tangles out of the ends of your hair.

Pink hair bounces slightly as Sunspot sits himself crisscross on the bench as well, his knees pressing against yours. It shines brightly in the morning light coming through the kitchen window, the kind of plastic sheen that gives away its artificial nature. Pretty nonetheless. “Lift your hands, please,” he asks, placing a cloth napkin across your lap with a soft thanks as you comply. He then picks up a fork and cuts a piece off one of the cinnamon rolls, stabbing through a strawberry slice as well before bringing it up to your face. “Hopefully this is still warm enough to enjoy.”

You lean forward slightly, taking the bite into your mouth and chewing it slowly. The sweet taste of the icing and strawberry mixed with the surprisingly still warm pastry bread makes you close your eyes with a hum. Out of politeness, you swallow before speaking up, “Are these homemade?”

Sunspot nods with a grin, “Nearly everything was made from scratch.”

“I’m never getting store bought cinnamon rolls ever again,” you vow.

Laughter bubbles past his lips, seemingly infectious as you chuckle with him. “As always, just ask and I’ll make them again,” he mentioned as he cut another piece.

Serenity filled the air of the kitchen, warm in the sun’s gentle light. You and Sunspot continue to converse as you eat while Soleil continues to softly ease the tangles from your hair. At some point he moves to reach for something across the table, but returns to his almost curled position over you without a word and begins to start braiding. The numbness in your fingers is forgotten in the comfort of the feeling. Like one of those moments where the world outside of your space seems to have frozen.

Just before your last bite, a small chain of events happens. You quote an older video of a young girl saying “it’s not an airplane, it’s just a spoon”, which causes Sunspot to poke fun about airplanes not being cool enough and mimics a train with the fork in his hand. This gets a good laugh from you before it’s cut off with a yelp of surprise when something sharply stabs at your scalp. “Deeply sorry, but you really should keep still when one has pointed objects near you,” Soleil chides as he properly slides the bobby pin into your hair.

This time you do roll your eyes, knowing he can’t see your face. Sunspot shakes his head at your antics as he places the fork down. You feel your brow furrow as he gently takes your chin in hand to keep you still. “Something on your face,” he explains softly as he takes the cloth from your lap. He softly rubs at a spot just to the side of your mouth, eyes focused before he pulls back and folds the napkin, “There we go.”

You swallow at the sudden dryness in your mouth before mumbling out a soft thanks. The meal is quickly finished without any more instances, and Sunspot rises from his seat to clean your dishes. “I like the flowers, Soleil,” Sunspot says over his shoulder as he walks to the sink.

“Flowers?” you question, not able to turn your head in fear you might accidentally get stabbed again.

The aforementioned bot finishes with whatever he’s pinning into your hair before handing you your pocket mirror. Your fingers brush against the silk of his glove as you take it from him and position it to see his handiwork.

Small wildflowers stick out from the strands of the crown braid Soleil has done around your head. Vibrant purples and whites accompany the few large pink water lilies that decorate you. “Oh my god,” you breathe out. A smile splits across your face as you pivot your head to admire the work. Uncrossing your legs and throwing them over the bench, you turn to face the bot behind you, “Oh my god, this is beautiful Sol, thank you!”

Now there was that complacent look. “You’re welcome, friend,” he replies, reaching up to reposition one of the flowers. His hand drops down and his fingers ghost across your jaw. He then turns his attention to put your things back in your bag.

You clear your throat, “So, where did the flowers come from anyways?”

Sunspot turns to face you as he dries his hands, “Oh, Fool brought those in! Lovely, aren’t they?”

You see Soleil freeze out of the corner of your eyes, fists clenching slightly, but you leave him to whatever moment he’s having and look at the mirror again. They must have been the bundle you saw Sunspot holding when you first walked in the room. “They are. I didn’t even know these grew on the grounds. I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.” Sol’s hands clench a second time at the last statement.

Quiet fills the kitchen again. Bird song filters past the panes of the window. You lean slightly into Sol’s side with a sigh. Blue-lavender eyes look your way almost in silent question as he continues cleaning up.

Stopping in front of you, Sunspot drops into a crouch in front of you and softly grabs your wrist. “It would be best to let your hands rest right now,” he suggests as he massages slightly up and down your forearm.

A sigh escapes you and you slump toward him, but you give him a nod. “Yeah, alright,” you agree. You watch as the sunlight hits his hair again and give into the urge and run your fingers through the pink locks. The curls are soft, not quite real but not as plastic as you thought it would feel. “Sorry,” you pull back when you see his cheeks color, “I should have asked.”

“It-It’s fine! No harm!” He laughs nervously.

Soleil cuts in by depositing your bag into your lap. “It’s time we get started with the day,” he says as he stands, offering Sunspot a hand to help him stand. The android takes it with a thanks, smoothing down his shirt.

“Thank you again,” you call after Soleil as he exits the room, but you get no response. Sometimes, you wonder why you even bother. You then turn to Sunspot, “And thank you. Breakfast was amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins as he holds out his hand. You take your bag in one hand as you take his offer.

Both of you stand there for a second. His eyes are a much more vibrant blue than Soleil, you note. Striking against his warmer colors.

You give his hand a light squeeze before letting go. “I should probably return this to my room,” you say as you lift up the bag.

Sunspot gives a nod, “Right. Yeah.” He calls your name again just as you go to exit the room, causing you to turn. “Please no basement today,” he asks of you.

Frustration bubbles in your chest, but you push it down. “Got it,” you pat the door frame before leaving the kitchen. Time to go find something to occupy your time. Maybe Misuta would let you borrow a book.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

crimzon ruze dating an artist

i’m gonna be real the hate mail stream changed me as a person

yhis one is about ruze and a reader that likes to make visual art, but if this gets some reception might be interested in writing more headcanons for writers, musicians, programmers, dancers…

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, headcanons

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

let’s get it out of the way: ruze isn’t just a viciously violent mercenary menace, he’s also a viciously violent mercenary menace that ✨ loves creativity ✨

he respects people that can use their imagination, like inventing new horrific ways to kill a corruption beast, or making someone’s day worse in a way that can’t be replicated

so naturally he gravitates to people who put their imagination to use through their own art medium. he has a type for creators

one of the best feelings ever is being able to watch an artist in their element, focused on their vision

there’s always so much to admire. their hands wrapped around the pencil, the way they squint and stare at the lines… he could go on

if he’s really lucky maybe the artist will move around while drawing a character, just so they can use their own body as reference. it’s so cute seeing them lift a hand and compare it to the one they were drawing, even the pout they do when they erase the last few strokes, all frustrated but ready to try again. especially the pout

he doesn’t do the whole “talking about your feelings” thing so when he sees a well-done drawing, well, that just makes admitting it all the more redundant. who needs words when a picture is worth a thousand of them?

ruze himself isn’t exactly an artist, but he’s tried before. it’s tough work. anyone that can control their pen that well deserves respect

if you’re an artist and your love language is quality time then dating ruze is a dream. he’ll do work in the same room as you while you’re preoccupied with your latest piece

it’s just the right amount of togetherness, but you’re able to do your own thing, and so is he. this feeling gets even better with banter, music, anything

he doesn’t mention it often but ruze also likes to work with his hands too. his favorite is papercrafting

you’re the only one in the world that knows he has a diy scrapbook full of photos and embellishments and, yes, some of your doodles and scrapped art you let him keep

always wants to display your art in some way. it’s personal and makes him feel like his house is a little livelier

if you need more space or expensive supplies for your art like a firing kiln, large canvases, pressure pots, or other equipment, then he’ll drop off the face of the earth for, like, a week, then come back with a bounty collected and a cut of it for your art fund

ruze likes the challenge of hunting down and fighting a fearsome monster, and how you brighten up as you plan a visit to a local craft store

he likes to ask questions about what you’re working on. this can be anything from art history to oc lore to symbolism to techniques

it makes especially good conversation at night when he’s about to go to bed with you

…there have definitely been times ruze was the first to sleep because you got hit with inspiration at 1 am though

it would be hypocritical if he were to make you rest, but just don’t overdo it and wake up cranky past your alarm, alright?

and do some stretches, including your hands, and your back. you’re literally dating someone who uses his muscle to make money. you better be treating your body nicely while you’re making art

you should be getting accidental paper cuts, not carpal tunnel because SOMEONE didn’t stick their arms straight out and bend their wrists back while keeping their fingers straight for 10 seconds, then bend their wrists down to the floor for another 10 seconds. not naming names

the type of mf that will sneak up and make some form of sudden physical contact (a kiss? bite? lick? annoying poke to your side?) so your back straightens and then tells you to keep it straight instead of giving you more affection

would NEVER respond to someone talking about their art with “can you draw me?”

that’s probably his greenest flag actually

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[andheresthething]

Crazy For You, Oh Boy

Summary: Nightowl dotes on you when you come to visit.

[Established Relationship] [Long-Distance Relationship] [Domestic Fluff] [Reunions] [Pet Names] [Kissing] [Cuddling & Snuggling] [Literal Sleeping Together] [Sexual Innuendos] [Househusband Energy] [No use of y/n] [Fem Reader]

•·················•·················•

Notes:

This is super rambly and drawn out but it's just loads of Nightowl fluff. Would appreciate feedback as I'd like to keep writing lil fics for my favorite Blooming Panic boy, carpal tunnel allowing.

Also, obligatory character playlist plug because I love it. Title comes from a lyric from a song on there :)

Reposted from AO3

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

You impatiently stared out of the window as the car turned into the parking lot of an apartment complex. As it comes to a halt, you could not have gotten out of it sooner. Grabbing your backpack, you thanked the driver before closing the door. You went around to the back, opened the trunk, and hauled out a duffel bag. As overworked as you were, your wallet be damned if you paid for a checked bag, not that you really needed it anyway. Slamming the trunk closed, the car drove off. With your backpack on and the world's heaviest duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you practically ran towards the entrance of the building.

Once inside, you rocked your feet back and forth as you waited for the elevator to come to the ground floor. While your destination was only one floor away, your cargo would kill you before making it up half a flight of stairs, not to mention how much a long, cramped flight takes out of you. After an agonizing wait, the elevator arrived with a ding. You hopped in and repeatedly pressed the door close button, knowing full well that doing so would not speed up the process at all. Pent-up excitement was being taken out on your phone via death grip as the elevator went up. Another ding allowed your phone to live another day. With an exit now available, your speed walking to your destination rivaled that of senior citizens at the mall at 7 in the morning. Halting yourself in front of the door, you knocked. 

“Hold on!” Nightowl shouted from the other side. Some faint chaos bleed through the door for a moment before the door swung open. You immediately flung yourself onto the person in front of you, enveloping him in a bear hug forceful enough to push him back a step or two. “Woah, hey there, cutie. I missed you so much,” he laughed, reciprocating the hug with the same amount of love.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you more, sweetheart,” you spoke into his neck. The two of you stayed in the hug a moment longer before moving slightly apart, still enough to hold each other. Nightowl leaned down for a kiss, that you happily gave. Though short, both of you had been dying for it. 

“Glad you’re back home, things just feel so off when you’re not here.” 

“I know, just a few more months, and we never have to do this again,” you smiled at him, lifting yourself slightly for another kiss. When you broke apart, a playful pout was on his face.

“Why can't you just stay here now,” he whined, tightening his grip on your waist slightly. Even after finishing his graduate program, he still acted like a little kid at times. You loved his playful demeanor, though.

“Because my sadist job is trying to kill me before I can leave,” you responded, starting to sway the two of you. “At least the new one will be much better.”

“Mmh, can’t wait till then. But, in the meantime, I will be a chivalrous gentleman and take your bags so that you can take a nice, long shower. I’ll order some food after, and we can have a quiet night in.”

“Ah, you’re truly wonderful, darling.”

“Only the best for you, cutie,” he said, giving you a peck on the lips. 

Letting go of each other, you immediately dropped your bags onto the floor and handed Nightowl your phone. While you kicked off your shoes, Nightowl took your bags back to the bedroom. You quickly made your way back to the bathroom. With as often as you visited, it was easier to get a second shower brush and share toiletries than lug your own back and forth. Given that Nightowl wasn’t the 20-in-1 type of guy, you didn’t have to worry about your hair being dry and skin breaking out. 

As you took your long-deserved shower, Nightowl put himself to work unpacking your things. Putting your clothes in his closet, your phone and laptop on his desk and charging them, accessories on his own stands, and whatever else you had brought in their rightful places. While the majority of the time he wouldn’t do these things for himself, for you, he spends a full day getting his place clean up for your arrival. Not to say that he was a slob, but the life of an architect could be very demanding. He sometimes joked with himself that if his carrier fell through he would be the perfect househusband for you.

Eventually, your shower ended and you went across the hall in your towel to get changed. Walking into the bedroom, you’re greeted with Nightowl laying on the bed, scrolling through the several options on DoorDash. He looked up at you and grinned. “You’re looking good, cutie. I unpacked everything for you while you were in there.”

“Absolutely wonderful you are,” you hummed, making your way over to the closet to pick out something to throw on for the night.

“For you, anything,” He stared at you, nothing but adoration filling his eyes as you grabbed your clothes. “Want me to close my eyes?”

“If you don’t mind,” you responded. Although you have seen each other in every state of undress imaginable, he still felt the importance of privacy whenever wanted. You appreciated his care, especially given your history of mediocre relationships with people who couldn’t bother with those sorts of things. When he closed his eyes, you quickly got yourself dressed in a random t-shirt of indeterminate ownership and the sluttiest pair of plaid pajama pants you could find. “You’re good now,” you spoke, starting to dry your hair off with the towel you wore into the room. At your command, Nightowl opened his eyes to look at you once more.

“I think I like this combo better than the towel.”

“I tried with the pants.”

“And you succeeded,” he chuckled. “So, did you think over what you want for dinner?”

“Hmm,” you began as you continued to dry your hair, “You craving anything?”

Nightowl shook his head, “Not really, I’m good with whatever.”

“Then can we get something from that one Chinese place over by that one bookstore?” you asked cheerfully.

“Sure thing, cutie. The usual?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, love!”

Nightowl went back to his phone to place your order while you went back to the bathroom to hang your towel. When you returned, he set his phone down and patted the spot next to him. You lay down next to him, moving closer to lay your head on his chest.

Nightowl wrapped an arm around your waist. “How was your flight?" he asked.

"About as good as it can get with two babies on board."

"Aw man, sorry you got stuck with that.”

"At least your neighbors don't have kids."

"I don't think I could have made it through grad school if they did. I hope the shower relaxed you some though," he said, starting to rub your stomach with his thumb slightly. 

"Not as much as lying here with you right now," you smiled at him.

“Pretty girl on my chest and she’s this sweet? I won at life being able to have you all to myself.” Your face went pink at his words. Although he said things like that all the time, it never failed to make you feel like a dumb teenager when he did. The best you could do was let out a small whine in response. “Aww, and you’re all flustered by that? You’re killing me here, cutie.”

“Oh, shush, it’s just 'cause I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Sure, if you say so,” he hummed.

The two of you continued to talk about random topics as you waited for your dinner. Due to the wonders of technology and neither of you possessing the ability to be okay with not calling every day, there wasn’t anything exactly big to catch up on. A little while longer went by until Nightowl got a notification that the driver was at the building. The two of you got up, he to acquire the food, and you to grab drinks and pick out the entertainment you would be promptly ignoring. After a decent look in the fridge, you grabbed two beverages of choice and plopped yourself onto the couch.

You waited a moment longer before Nightowl came back with the food. He brought the bag to the couch and rummaged through it to hand you your food along with a pair of chopsticks graciously provided by the restaurant. You, starving, started eating before he even got around to opening his food.

“God, I’ve missed this so much,” you started between chews, “Seriously, this place has the best Chinese food I’ve ever had.”

“And here I was thinking you meant eating takeout with me,” he joked.

“I suppose I missed that too, but I don’t know, this lo mein is pretty fucking good,” you shot back. With his free hand, Nightowl placed a hand on his chest and leaned back, closing his eyes.

“Oh, I can’t believe she loves egg noodles more than me!” he remarked. You giggled a bit in response.

“Fine, perhaps I love the current activity more than egg noodles.”

“Just the activity?”

“You’re not gonna make me say this, are you?”

“How else would I know if you don’t say it out loud, to my face?” The little antic of his was one reminiscent of one faithful night in the call channel of the Bloomic server. Over time, you learned that he loved to pull this type of line either to get you flustered over little things or annoy the shit out of you. 

“Fine, I definitely absolutely, love you, Nightowl, more than egg noodles or eating egg noodles in your presence,” you playfully groaned out. 

“You hear that? She loves me more than egg noodles!” he shouted. You smiled at his response. Though a cute moment, it was quickly ended by a banging from the wall in front of you.

“Shut the fuck up in there!” A neighbor shouted through the wall. The two of you stared at each other in surprise before Nightowl yelled a quick apology back.

“That’s the second neighbor you’ve pissed off by boasting about my love for you,” you said after a moment.

“I would happily piss off several more if it means I can brag about you,” he said, going back to finish his food, “Granted, as long as it doesn’t get me evicted.”

You chuckled. “Good call.”

As time went on, you continued mindless banter accompanying the completion of your meals. Even once finished, the two of you sat together and talked for what seemed like forever. You even managed to squeeze out some information, albeit, fairly vague, about the dates he had planned for the two of you during your stay. At some point, all the travel and excitement of the day had gotten the better of you. While you did try to hide it, a yawn gave your state of energy away to Nightowl.

“I saw that, cutie. A queen needs her beauty sleep.”

“Says you.”

“I’ll have you know that I still get my full 8 hours every night,” he asserted.

You chuckled, which turned into another yawn. “Maybe so, but you still live life in another time zone.”

“When you’re here, it gets a bit more normal.”

“Really?” you thought for a moment, “Huh, I guess it does. Wonder why?”

“Maybe it’s cause I worry about your well-being in terms of sleep so much that it rubs off on me,” he pondered.

“If taking care of me gets you to take care of yourself, then I'm all for it,” you smiled at the sweetness of it all. 

Nightowl got up and started collecting the empty containers, “You go on to bed, I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm, you come first, cutie.”

You got up from the couch, “Absolutely the best to me.”

You cupped his face, giving him a peck on the cheek before making your way to bed. Little did you know, but that small act of affection melted Nightowl’s heart. Blushed, he took a moment from cleaning up to compose himself. He didn’t exactly know why he reacted with the fuzzy, teenager-in-love feeling, but he welcomed it nonetheless. He picked up the pace to join you just slightly sooner.

While he was finishing up, you had practically thrown yourself into bed, the exhaustion finally hitting you. You got yourself comfortable and passed the time looking around the room, studying what’s changed since you last visited. Though a tad boring, you didn’t exactly possess the brain power to check your phone and retain anything. 

Eventually, a blonde figure caught the corner of your eye. You turned to face your beloved Nightowl as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He turned off a small desk lamp, allowing the fairy lights over his bed to illuminate the room. You sleepily pat the spot next to you, which he happily filled, snuggling as close to you as he could. The sparking of the lights above the two of you reflected in his brown eyes. Even in your extremely groggy state, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your boyfriend.

“You ready to sleep?” he mumbled, seeming to try to hide a yawn of his own. 

“Yeah,” your eyes were already fluttering closed. Nightowl brought an arm around you and planted a kiss on the top of your head. “Maybe tomorrow you can be the activity I love.”

“I will most definitely make sure that becomes true,” he smiled, “Goodnight, cutie.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The warm lights illuminated the two of you drifting off to sleep together for the first time in months. All became still in that apartment, and for a night, all was right in the world. 

[lylethewaterguy]

Some of my favourite dc characters and songs that remind me of them because i felt like it:

Oliver Queen/Green Arrow: Island - Miley Cyrus

Sounds obvious I know, but it really fits him perfectly with his love/hate relationship to the island.

“And I won’t lie, it sure gets lonely here at night - But no one here needs nothing from me, and it’s kinda nice”

Roy Harper/Arsenal: Archer - Taylor Swift

This one also seems very obvious based on the title but I also think it just suits Roy and everything he’s been through both with addiction and with losing so many people close to him.

“I’ve been the archer - I’ve been the prey - Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? - But who could stay?”

Dick Grayson/Nightwing: Vampire - Olivia Rodrigo

This song is 100% Dick (/Jason) thinking about Bruce and you cannot convince me otherwise.

“And every girl I ever talked to said that you were bad, bad news - You called them crazy, God I hate the way I called them crazy too - You’re so convincing - How do you lie without flinching”

Justice League International: Americana - Jonas Brothers

No thoughts, just vibes. I don’t know why but this song is how I feel when reading or thinking about the JLI.

“We’re gonna get home when we get home”

Beatriz Da Costa/Fire and Tora Olafsdotter/Ice: Green Green Grass - George Ezra

Both perfect colour wise but also captures their partners in crime energy super well I think.

“Green, green grass - Blue, blue sky - You better throw a party on the day that I die”

Scott Free/Mister Miracle: God Must Hate Me - Catie Turner

This is mainly based on the 2018 existential crisis Barbie Scott (aka my favourite Scott).

“Same hands that made the moon and the stars - Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts - I don’t know what I believe - But it’s easier to think - He made a mistake with me”

Ted Kord/Blue Beetle: Groundhog Day - Em Beihold

I just feel like Ted is a very stuck in the past, doesn’t really have a place in the present, character and this song perfectly encapsulates that.

“I just wanna drive away - But I don’t have a car, so I guess I gotta stay - And it’s easy to say I’m okay - Up and down these emotional waves”

Michael Jon Carter/Booster Gold: Used To Be Young - Miley Cyrus

Modern/post 2007 dad Booster thinking back to his days with the JLI.

“You tell me time has done changed me - That’s fine, I had a good run - I know I used to be crazy - That’s cause I used to be young”

Michael Jon Carter/Booster Gold: DEAD FRIENDS - Demi Lovato

Feels somewhat self explanatory.

“I miss the hell we can’t raise, I miss the time we can’t waste - I miss the texts they can’t send, I miss my dead friends”

Michael Jon Carter/Booster Gold and Ted Kord/Blue Beetle: Loved You Before - Peach PRC

They gay.

“Two complementary colors - The winter, the spring and summer - Forever just lost lovers that keep getting rediscovered”

(I thought about including songs from musicals but then I figured there’s so many more so that’s be better for a separate post)

[lupgangs-fiat]

hi!! could a request a one shot where jigen takes care of a reader with carpal tunnel/wrist pain? love your blog and I’m so happy you’re back 💓

AAA I’m so glad you love my blog omG- and it’s good to be back !! Enjoy <3!!!

Jigen x reader w/ wrist pain!

Warnings: none! Enjoy some domestic Jigen <3

Jigen always knew whenever the pain in your carpal tunnel addled wrists and hands started acting up. At one point, you could swear it was like he could read your mind, or that he might even has some hyper-specific sixth sense for this exact situation. Or he’s on the same wavelength as you- or maybe he sees the future… Whatever is it, his attention to the most minor and minute changes in your attitude was almost inhuman and somewhat freaky at times. There were times he knew even before the pain began to set in, and he would pull you away, willingly or not, from whatever it is you’re working on at the time, your compression gloves and ice packs in hand, ready to take care of you and ease you pain.

Much like today.

The gunman had just caught you overworking yourself over some research, hunched over your desk and trying to push through the constant and unrelenting pain that emanates from both your wrists. Each and every little motion and action, every letter typed and word written sends sharp and aching pain up your arms, your shoulders tingling from the pain. And Jigen absolutely hated, no, despised seeing you like this.

“Alright darlin’, that’s more than enough.” Jigen’s voice startled you out of your work as he walks up behind you, his rough hands resting on your shoulders. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he massages your shoulders, slowly yet surely easing a good chunk of the tension from your tense muscles as a content groan slips from your lips. He must’ve been a masseuse at some point in his checkered past.. there’s no way he’s just this good at working out the tense knots in your shoulders for no reason. “Jigen- Lupin needs me to finish this.. I can’t just sto-” “Yes, you can. And you will.” His voice easily trumped yours, his gruff yet gentle tone cutting through the air as he shakes his head a tad. “Lupin’s oh so precious and beloved research can wait. Besides, if he needs it bad enough for you to work through and ignore your pain, he can do it himself.” His word is absolute law in times like this. Silently, he presents you two very familiar choices. Either go with him willingly and be carried bridal style with your dignity intact, or resist and get unceremoniously tossed over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

Today? You chose the later.

Much to his dismay.

“Jigen- I promise I’m fine! I just need to finish this research then I’ll rest, I swear.” You double down as you write down some insignificant detail, gently pushing one of Jigen’s hands off your shoulders with your free hand. But your protests fell upon deaf ears as Jigen’s taller form loomed over you from behind, one hand gently shutting your laptop, the other plucking your pen from your hand and tossing it to the desk where it clattered to a stop at the edge.

He didn’t even give you the time to protest more as he easily scooped you out of the chair and tossing you over his shoulder in one fluid motion. “Jigen! Hey! C’mon- hey! Put me down!” Your shouts fill the air as you hang partially upside down, your chest against his back as he shifted your weight a little. Once more your protests fall on deaf ears as Jigen’s hands hold you steady, one hand splayed against the small of your back and the other lightly grasping the back your thigh, his fingers gently digging into your leg. Your escape attempts are extinguished with his firm grasp, keeping you in his hands until he deems it’s time to set you down. “Ah ah ah. You did this to yourself.” Is all he says in a scolding tone as he carries you away from your cluttered desk. Your hands grasp at the back of Jigen’s jacket, sore and aching fingers curling into the familiar black fabric as he pats your back with a hidden smile.

Moments later, you’re suddenly, yet oh so gently, set on the couch in the safe house’s living room. On the coffee table lay your compression gloves and cold gel bead ice packs, all properly prepared for you. ‘Bastard. He planned this... Again.’ You think as he crouches in front of the couch, picking up your compression gloves before gently taking one of your hands in his own, his warm calloused hands tenderly holding your own. “Jigen, I can put my gloves on by myself.“ Yet as always, your protests met deaf ears. They should be good acquaintances by now, maybe even best friends at this point.

“Just shut up and let me take care of you.” Jigen replies, almost immediately without a hint of malice, easily shutting you up as he slips the glove over your hand, pulling it over your wrist all the way to the middle of your forearm. His touch is almost reverent as he holds your hand as if it were delicate china, and in his mind, you are. At least, in times like these. Minor adjustments were made, ensuring the seams of the glove sat comfortably against your skin without irritating you, checking that the glove was positioned properly around your wrists and other minor adjustments. He then gently massages your wrist, his thumbs expertly pressing against your sore hand. A soft, pained whine escaping you as the motions send a dull pain up your arm while the tense joint is worked out, but the ache is only momentary. The pain is instantaneously replaced by the cool sensation of a gel bead ice pack being rested over your wrist. The process is repeated with your other hand, Jigen’s gentle touch slowly but surely banishing the pain from your extremities with each practiced motion.

“There we go.” Jigen mutters to himself as he stands up, straightening out his clothes and dusting himself off a little. He watches as you lean back against the couch, practically sinking into the plush furniture as your pain seeps out of your body with every second that passes. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel their intense gaze upon you, lingering on your hands as he plops down beside you, adjusting the ice packs so they sit flush against your gloves. The soothing chill seeps into your hands, quelling the pain. “Better?” Jigen asks simply, his voice momentarily shattering the silence between the two of you. There’s a light tease to his voice, playfully poking fun at you as he leans back against the couch, his arm lazily draping over your shoulders as he speaks. “Better..” You repeat, shifting slightly to tuck yourself into his side. His heart soared as you did this, loving the way you fit beside him like a puzzle piece. It’s like the two of you were made for each other. He smiles faintly as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer against himself and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good.”

[critterdotcom]

the jeffdave brainrot is so real pleaseeee drop ur jeffdave somgs

ok ok ok i have to gather them up cause i’ll be listening to my playlists going “oh fuck that’s THEM”

dial drunk - noah kahan (“but that’s morning, i’ll forget/and the dial tone is all i have”)

please please please let me get what i want - the smiths (“please, please, please, let me get what i want/lord knows it would be the first time”)

back to the old house - the smiths (“and you never knew how much i really liked you/‘cause i never even told you/oh, and i meant to”)

night shift - lucy dacus (“in five years, i hope the songs feel like covers/dedicated to new lovers”)

tim i wish you were born a girl - of montreal (“i know it’s not possible now/i just never met a girl i liked half as much as you”)

alpha dog - fall out boy (“you’re not the first, or the last/but you’re possibly the prettiest”)

arabella - arctic monkeys (“the horizon tries, but it’s just not as kind on the eyes/as arabella”)

bad girlfriend - theory of a deadman (“i like to strip her down, she’s naughty ‘til the end/she knows what she is, no doubt about it/she’s a bad, bad girlfriend”)

call me little sunshine - ghost (“light up in the middle of the day/for how else could you see me?”)

carpal tunnel of love - fall out boy (“take two years and call me when you’re better/take teardrops of mine, find yourself wetter”)

chalk outline - three days grace (“you keep comin’ back to the scene of the crime/but the dead can’t speak, and there’s nothing left to say anyway”)

cruel to be kind - nick lowe (“cruel to be kind, it’s a very good sign/cruel to be kind, means that i love you, baby”)

death valley - fall out boy (“undress to impress/you can wear the crown, but you’re no princess”)

diary of jane - breaking benjamin (“try to find out what makes you tick/as i lie down, sore and sick/do you like that?”)

i’m still building the playlist but these are the first few songs :)

[haveafuckingfanfic]

Sup y’all, I actually have a fanfic for my once in a blue moon lmao. Link to AO3 version, but tumblr version is below!

Need to know tags!: chronic pain, disabled character, w33d v@pe use, some internalized ableism mentions, use of mobility aides.

Now without ado:

Puff Puff Pain Away

Today was not a good pain day. Izuku sat on the apartment balcony with neon blue weed vape in between his two fingers. As he took a long drag, he thought over the past decade or so. Turns out repeatedly breaking and mending your bones isn’t good for your body. Both Kacchan hurranged him about it and Shouto expressed consistent concern for him. Ever the self sacrificer, he waved their worries away and ignored the steadily growing pains that set itself deep in his bones.

‘Lot of good that did now.’ Izuku thought bitterly. Yeah, he saved Japan and helped regain a peaceful order, but at what cost? He was in constant pain now. He had a hard time keeping up with his new students. His robotic suit helped, but without his quirk he felt helpless. Closing his eyes he could feel a pleasant static seeping into his brain. Stress began to melt away slowly as he leaned back in the deck chair.

He cast his mind back to his early secondary school days. He had no clue of the ramifications that taking on such a powerful quirk would lead to. The pain started small. A bit of carpal tunnel here, a foot cramp there. Then it got worse. Some days it was agonizing. It was like a needle was being repeatedly stabbed into his arms and legs. Other days it felt like he had broken his bones again, even though there was no way he could have done that. Over-counter-pills did little to nothing, finding himself sneaking multiple pills throughout the day. Sometimes he was too lethargic to get out of bed, explaining it away as a cold or a small injury. He would then knock out for a majority of the day in some effort to regain the spoons that magiced themselves away. It was like he was weighed down by an elephant. Scratch that, multiple elephants. The pain would bring him to tears, which wasn’t hard to do, but the point was clear.

He took another drag of his vape, letting the static feeling fully wash over his body. The pain became a dull background noise as the cannabis rested in his being. A wash up, a has-been, an old man at just 26. Hell, his knees ache when it rained, he should be escorted to a senior citizen home just because of that alone! He was still having a hard time accepting that he was technically disabled. Izuku felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment at the thought of using a cane. Sometimes when he had a flair up, he’d use it.

He could recall when Bakugo and Shouto first presented him with one. He had been struggling with stability and fought Bakugo making any attempt to help him around. He made weak protests, saying he was fully able to walk still. Shouto had tried to soothe him, “Hey, it’s okay to use a cane! It’ll help you so much, Izuku. We understand if you aren’t ready yet though, so how about you try it out every now and then?”

Izuku called to mind tearing up, protesting, “No! I don’t need it, I’ll be fine! I just need to rest up!”

Katsuki’s tone was much gruffer than Shouto’s, “Oh, you don’t need it? Tell me then, what will you feel when you get up? Or with every time you try to walk?”

“It’s normal to have pain while walking though-“

“No! No it’s not! Izuku…” Shouto cupped his face, “You can’t keep pretending like this. Both Katsuki and I can see how much pain you’re in each day.”

“People without pain like yours don’t have to take heavy doses of over the counter pain pills just to go about their days. ‘Zuku, we’re worried about you.” Kacchan spoke with such tenderness and worry that was starting to feel horribly familiar. He yielded, a flood of tears coming from his eyes. He never wanted to worry them, he just wanted to live like he always did. Like how he used to before all his broken bones.

He held the vapor for a bit and blew a cloud above him. Rolling his shoulders, he felt he was back to his baseline. Not great, but he could cope with it. So he had started slowly, using the cane around the condo and getting used to outward support that it lends. It was a bit uncomfortable at first, Izuku wasn’t fond of the feeling of taking up more space. In reality, there was no reason for him to feel any shame about his disabilities. Just as with everything else, times have changed. Society had become much more accepting of not only quirkless, but also disabled people. For years now Japan has made a concerted effort to make things more accessible. He’d be lying if that made a difference mentally, he was still internally ableist. He longed for a fully functioning body, like he had all those years ago.

He looked at his vape, debating on whether he should take another hit. Sighing, he decided not to and put it back in his pocket. The sliding balcony door opened behind him and out stepped Shouto.

“Morning, sleepy head.” He greeted Sho softly. Sho pressed a kiss to his temple and propped himself up on the back of the chair Izuku was in.

“I don’t think it’s morning anymore, but morning to you too ’Zuku.”

Izuku smiled and waved it off, “Pshaw, you slept late, of course it’s morning now! You got off work only a few hours ago.”

Shouto huffed, smiling at him, “Which reminds me, Katsuki is cooking dinner right now so try to hold off your munchies. I know he nearly bit off your head last time you wandered in there looking for a snack.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for the warning,” Izuku said sheepishly. Katsuki would never say it, but he enjoyed feeding both Shouto and Izuku. He was a force to be reckoned with when he did, adamant to keep them well fed and accommodating for their various diets. He had gotten especially cranky since Izuku had forgotten he was making katsudon and asked him to make it for him. The dirty look that had been leveled at him would have been enough to kill Izuku on sight. Luckily Shouto was quick to occupy Izuku and get him out of Katsuki’s hair for the next hour or so.

The balcony door slid open again, the blonde poking his head out and beckoned them in, “Oi! Dinner is ready, come in before I eat your portion!”

Both scrambled into the house followed by various sounds of protest. A delicious curry with katsu and fresh rice was set in front of them and Izuku couldn’t help but start in on it. As they ate, Izuku looked around and absorbed the comfortably familiar setting of Katsuki adding extra spice to his curry, gentle conversations between the three of them, the occasional harmless arguments between Sho and Kacchan. The environment was warm and inviting, the food wholesome and the company welcome. He could feel himself tear up at the sight, beyond grateful for his supportive partners.

Shouto looked up at him, “Are you ok, Izuku? You look like you’re about to-“

The floodgates opened as Izuku blubbered, “I’m just so grateful to have you guys and you do so much for me and you always support me and I love you so muuuuuuuuuch!”

With a fond sigh, Katsuki reached over and held his hand and Shouto scooted over to wrap an arm around him.

“We love you too, Zu.”

[tennco]

already gave my thoughts on it on stream but here we go. uhh, yeah touhou 19 sure is a phantasmagoria game.

it was a bit disappointing that there wasn’t anything new besides what was shown in the announcement. which.. sounds kinda weird now that im writing it but idk, they could��ve not shown the available roster to keep it a surprise for the demo at least. but also maybe im too used to the experience of getting 3 new characters right off the bat.

i like the new changes to the gameplay, particulary that you can now hold down Z (!!!) instead of getting carpal tunnel. and bombs are back. there’s also something going on with the way the battles play out, like you gotta wait for the AI to do some special spell card attack to beat ‘em? if there’s some way to trigger it that i didn’t get because, japanese, then sure, very welcome change to make the fights more snappy. if that spell card happens whenever the AI feels like it then, it’s still pretty much waiting for the AI to fuck up which is, the main reason i dont like phantasmagoria games. there’s just no clear indication of when you’re doing things right, or rather no way to do things right.

graphically the game looks amazing, following in the same style of UM. everything just pops out and is so full of color. ZUN has gotten increasingly better at art, im a really big fan of this new style. also goddamn the new boss sprites look so good i love them, kinda reminds me of the sprites from Gouyoku Ibun (i did hear it was a Twilight Frontier artist who did them so, checks out)

i didn’t really expect a lot of music, but what is there is nice. reimu and marisa got new themes which... honestly it’s gonna be pretty hard to replace the ones we already know but, good attempt. i don’t know why they act as regular stage themes too? like they can replace the ones from other characters, i don’t know what’s up with that. also aunn has an arrangement of her theme, while seiran and nazrin have arrangements of the stage theme where they appear, which i found a bit weird. they’re all pretty good tho, nazrin’s i found to be a bit weak? i think i honestly prefer the UFO version of that one but, it’s fine.

anyways, pretty good demo. some bugs here and there which is, to be expected. and p1 is set to gamepad by default which makes sense but uh, no. i can’t talk about the plot because no tl but i kinda doubt there’s gonna be much of that with this few characters. again i wish there could’ve been at least one new face to talk about but, guess we’ll have to wait until the full release for that.

STAY BELIEVING MIMAMANIACS

[justeeyore]

TASK #1: AN EEYORE SHEPARD PLAYLIST !

track one: nothing new, taylor swift ft. phoebe bridges

how long will it be cute? all this crying in my room when you can’t blame it on my youth and roll your eyes with affection and my cheeks are growing tired from turning red and faking smiles are we only biding time until i lose your attention?

track two: you don’t know me, katelyn tarver

i'm so over all this bad luck hearing one more “keep your head up” is it ever gonna change? so let me just give up, so let me just let go if this isn’t good for me, well, i don’t wanna know

track three: tin man, miranda lambert

hey there mr. tin man, you don’t know how lucky you are you shouldn’t spend your whole life wishing for something bound to fall apart every time you’re feeling empty, better thank your lucky stars if you ever felt one breaking, you’d never want a heart

track four: god must hate me, catie turner

i can’t hold myself responsible, so i blame the metaphysical if jesus died for all our sins, he left one behind, the body i’m in same hands that made the moon and stars got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts i don’t know what i believe but it’s easier to think he made a mistake with me

track five: into the ocean, blue october

i thought of just your face, relaxed and floated into space i wanna swim away but don’t know how sometimes it feels just like i’m falling in the ocean let the waves up take me down

track six: she used to be mine, sara bareilles

she’s imperfect, but she tries, she is good, but she lies she is hard on herself, she is broken and won’t ask for help she is messy, but she's kind, she is lonely most of the time she is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie she is gone, but she used to be mine

track seven: night bus, lucy rose

you see trouble in her eyes you’ve noticed but only realized it’s not fading however you hard try ‘cause it’s built in her for her life

track eight: stay in the dark, the band perry

lately, things been getting so crazy been feeling like my heart hates me it’s racing, i just wanna stay in the dark turn off the lights, come hold me tight

track nine: i can’t breathe, bea miller

will somebody get me a hammer? wanna break all the clocks and the mirrors and go back to a time that was different a time when i didn’t feel like there was something missing now my body and my mind are so distant don’t know how to escape from this prison

track ten: echo, jason walker

i’m out on the edge and i’m screaming my name like a fool at the top of my lungs sometimes when i close my eyes i pretend i’m alright but it’s never enough

track eleven: seven, taylor swift

please picture me in the trees, i hit my peak at seven feet in the swing over the creek i was too scared to jump in but i, i was high in the sky, with pennsylvania under me are there still beautiful things?

track twelve: paper crown, alec benjamin

when all she needs, and all she wants, when all she finds when all she is and ever was, is compromised  ‘cause there’s no one to love her when you build your walls too high and there’s no one to love you when you trap yourself inside

track thirteen: walk through walls, katie herzig

before you walk through walls, you will leave all this behind before you walk through walls, you look it in the eye before you walk through walls, you will learn to say goodbye if you let your guard down long enough to try

track fourteen: like blood like honey, holly brook

you want to catch your breath, you want to get out but as you surface you don’t really know how how to live upon the solid ground sometimes it’s just easier to let yourself drown

[xendeoide]

need someone to really rail me. and hold me closely while they do it. i’m becoming desensitized to my own fingers. i’m getting carpal tunnel from how long i keep my wrist arched. i want to feel the wetness of another’s tongue on me. i wanna be licked and kissed and nibbled and bitten all up and down. i’m so soft and pliable, see? i’m so good and obedient. i need it. i need to feel it so much, to the point where i can’t imagine what it was like to not be in the embrace of another, to feel tense as i touch another person. feather-light, afraid to break them and the moment. i want to beg and plead to be touched, more, more, consume me, keep me close, keep me with you. ward off my depravity. get me nonverbal and whimpering. rutting and desperate for your touch, no matter the nature or intentions. touch me roughly, leacherously, hot and writhing and sweat beading. especially when i whine and shake my head no, when i say i’m too shy or embarrassed. please, anything, won’t you hear me? will you listen to me need, my desire? please? i’m begging so nicely, so pretty. please. my 🥺 sparkle up at you, full of trust and want. please. please.

[halloweeneverlong]

infinity on high sentence starters

sentence starters taken from songs off of Infinity on High by Fall Out Boy.

thriller:

- “i found the safest place to keep our old mistakes.”

- “long live the car crash hearts.”

- “ ‘cause that’s just the kind of boy i am.”

- “the only thing i haven’t done yet is die.”

the take over, the break’s over

- “seasons change, hut people don’t.”

- “don’t pretend you ever forgot about me.”

- “we don’t fight fair.”

this ain’t a scene, it’s an arms race

- “i don’t really care which side wins.”

- “i’m not a shoulder to cry on, but i digress.”

- “the lies that i weave are oh so intricate.”

- “you look pretty sinking.”

i’m like a lawyer with the way i’m always trying to get you off

- “i know how the words get you.”

- “we’re the new face of failure.”

- “two out of three ain’t bad.”

hum hallelujah

- “you’re someone who knows someone who knows someone i once knew!”

- “you are the dreamer, we are the dream.”

- “i thought i loved you, it was just how you looked in the light.”

- “a teenage vow in a parking lot, ‘till tonight do us part.”

- “one day we’ll get nostalgic for disaster.”

- “sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills.”

golden

- “i knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me.”

- “all of the mothers raise their babies to stay away from me.”

thnks fr th mmrs

- “let the good times roll.”

- “who does he think he is?”

- “thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great.”

- “he tastes like you only sweeter.”

don’t you know who i think i am?

- “they say quitters never win.”

- “i can’t stop feeling sorry for myself.”

- “we’re broken down on memory lane.”

the (after) life of the party

- “cut it loose.”

- “oh, put love on hold.”

- “death’s in a double bed.”

the carpal tunnel of love

- “we’re so miserable and stunning.”

- “slept through the weekend.”

- “we might’ve said goodbyes just a little soon.”

- “take two years and call me when you’re better.”

bang the doldrums

- “i wrote a goodbye note in lipstick on your arm when you passed out.”

- “i couldn’t bring myself to call, except to call it quits.”

- “better off as lovers.”

- “are we all wrong?”

- “this is a love song in my own way.”

fame < infamy

- “i’m addicted to the way i feel when i think of you.”

- “the kid was alright, but it went to his head.”

you’re crashing, but you’re no wave

- “clear your throat and face the world.”

- “baby boy can’t lift his headache head.”

- “isn’t it tragic?”

i’ve got all the ringing in my ears and none in my fingers

- “sorrow is just all the rage.”

- “tell the boys where to find my body.”

- “the truth hurts worse than anything i could bring myself to do to you.”

- “do you remember the way i held your hand?”

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

- “i sleep in your old shirts and walk through this house in your shoes.”

- “you know, it’s strange.”

- “i’ve already given up on myself twice. third time’s the charm.”

- “i’ve traced your shadows on the wall, and now i kiss them.”

- “things aren’t the same anymore.”

it’s hard to say ‘i do’, when i don’t

- “i speak fast and i’m not going to repeat myself.”

- “you’re appealing to emotions that i simply do not have.”

- “we’re gonna shoot you.”

[blackknight-kai]

Did I make a blog for viddy games specifically? Yes. Yes I did.

About me?

30 years old and I obviously play games. I have carpal tunnel so I have to be picky about the games I play so I end up watching a lot of them unless I'm obsessed with it.

I’m a very open person and a safe person no judgments from me!! Straight, gay, bi, trans, ace, whatever you are, I’m cool with you. So even if we never interact and you needed somebody to listen I’ll do it!

Side note: Yes I do simp for some characters in games and I ship them with other characters too. So fair warning, I will probably reblog both pairing stuff, random stuff, and reader insert stuff.

I do tend to cuss a lot so just let me know if that’s not you’re thing and I can tone that down. Im not out to make anyone uncomfortable but at the same time just know it’s part of me.

Let’s see…I like viddy games, anime, movies, booooooks, uhh space? Etc. that’s some cliff notes.

As for consoles I have: PS4/5, switch, xbox, and PC.

Again, if we never interact but you see this post I hope you have a fantastic fucking day because you’re amazing!

ASKS/REQUESTS: Keep it to Sun Wukong/Destined One (I’m not well versed on the og lore I’m sorry). Nsfw is okay! If I can’t do it or I’m not comfy I’ll private message you. (I do work full time so bear with me if o don’t get to you right away) - Check comment on this post for what I’m looking for/need in a request.

FICS: Find my tag “BK Kai Writes” for any fics I make 🤟

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackKnight_Kai/pseuds/BlackKnight_Kai

[hanji-is-life]

I feel weird resending asks ndnenrh anyway I’m gonna give izuku carpal tunnel with how much I want him to finger me 🏃

Omg and the funny thing is, I literally remembered your ask, word for word!! Lmao I had it written down and everything after my asks deleted so I wouldn’t forget but thank you for sending it again!!

So we all know that Izuku literally has the best hands. You’d think you would be kinda grossed out by them, seeing how many times he has broken his fingers. But if anything, it just adds more flavor and appeal.

His hands are just. so big. I’m thinking of Pro Hero Deku, so they’re definitely massive. Slightly miscolored and scarred and crooked, but that just makes them feel so much better when they’re inside of you.

He loves fingering you just as much as you love being fingered by him. He practically does it everywhere. You would think he’d be more modest in public, but there’s just something about his pretty little bunny wearing the smallest skirts and the skimpiest panties. He just can’t keep his hands to himself.

He’s pulling your panties to the side when you go to the movies. You don’t object or scold him, just spread your legs a little wider and hide your moans behind your hand.

His fingers are dancing up your inner thighs at game night with the DekuSquad. Uraraka keeps asking if you’re okay every time you squeak or whimper or shut your eyes too tight and forget it’s your turn at the game. Izuku always makes up some excuse to take you home, or even the bathroom if he’s feeling real insatiable.

He’ll hoist you up on the sink, whisper apologies in your neck with wet kisses as his palm smacks against your clit with how hard and fast he’s fingering you. You even squirted once, and had to be the one to tell the squad that you guys had to leave early since Izuku’s clothes were stained with your cum.

On days when he comes home tired from hero work, he’ll try and sate his little bunny but, fuck, ‘Zuku, you’re not doing it right!

And he’ll just coo and kiss up your legs and knees as you sit beside him, him on his stomach and you kneeling over his hand. He’ll pump lazily into you, telling you that you’re giving him carpal tunnel from always being inside you, pausing more often than not as he’s falling asleep. You realize you have to take matters into your own hands.

You hold his wrists still, bounce up and down on his fingers like you’re riding his cock. The most he’ll do is hum positive affirmations, praise his good little bunny for riding his fingers so well. Crook his fingers, angle them to hit your sweet spot. Slowly rotate and push his thumb a little firmer into your clit.

When you cum, he’ll massage your walls until you’re whimpering in over sensitivity. He’ll drag them out slowly, hum again at the wet squelch your cunt makes, stick his soaked fingers in his mouth, and lick your juices off with a pop. He demands a kiss every time, one tired eye peaking open as he makes kissy faces and sounds to coax you in.

Eventually, when he has more energy at an ungodly hour of the morning, he’s giving you the proper finger fuck you deserve. With all of his energy.