#different people find different reasons to keep going

[zzencat]

A Peek Into Your Future Person’s Midnight Thoughts (NSFW) - Timeless ⏳

From left to right. It’s the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

Batman wouldn’t get this info out of ‘em. What are they thinking about when they text you good night? These are the fantasies they’re too shy to share. No spiritual identities were revealed. (Minors DNI)

Note: This does not necessarily have to align with your kinks. This is what your future person wishes they could do to you.

Must do before you choose: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

——————————-

Pile 1. ‘Yeah? Say that again. I dare you.’

straight up strength kink. trapping you between their arms (thank you kim mingyu for the inspo and energy)

you could share a (huge) height difference with this person and it makes them want to protect you

they either have a muscular build or are very much taller than you. a lot of fs in this pile have both. especially working out the arms.

they like to see you feisty so that they have a reason to conquer yo ass

HEAVILY thinks about pushing you against a wall (a beige-colored wall, in particular) in a hotel room and fucking you against it

the type of person to edge you so much that you start crying

this person may have given you hints or will you give signs of their kinks before, so you will get the idea that they have a brat taming kink

will purposefully try to piss you off to get you all hotheaded and feisty. they really want to test your limits so that you “try” and “teach them a lesson” or “intimidate them” with a finger to their chest and everything—like “just bc you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you can keep pissing me off.” it’s laughable for them bc this is what they wanted. they’ll let this build up for a little more, keep trying to rile you up…UNTIL it explodes and they finally show you who’s really in charge. you may or may not of like this but you’ll be blushing like crazy lmfao

they tend to go for types that are too easy to overpower physically. it’s even cuter if you’re shorter than them and very obviously can’t take them down

fantasizes about holding you down/keeping you stationed while going down on you

this person might be hairy. think of a human to werewolf transformation. a good 50% of you will encounter someone completely clean shaven, sophisticated looking, keeps composure so damn well, but has reallllly freaky desires and fantasies. you wouldn’t be able to tell. the hints are subtle tho and will come up in their everyday actions towards you. (example: cleaning up after you or watching out for you, holding you close when a stranger approaches…i’ll add more in the points of interest 🤧)

holy shit…listen, if this is a sibling of someone you know, they’ll def fantasize abt fucking you with said sibling(s)/family members around, sneaking around the family house, doing it in risky places and times (have mercy!!!) — ex: cupping your mouth while they go down on you or tease you like “you don’t want them to find out, do you? keep quiet for me”

they’d love to hold your jaw in place and make you look at them while they pleasure you

wouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed for making you moan too loud. if youre at an event, they get off on people hearing you — doesn’t matter if your parents or the elderly hear it

this person really gets off on the idea of having sex in public. they’re a true exhibitionist :)

(expanding off my previous point) most of the fs in this pile don’t get…jealous?? like very “look but don’t touch” type of person when it comes to you; they know people don’t dare to compete with them. this person is very confident in where they stand in your life. if you ever suggest bringing in someone to watch you guys, they would be okay with the idea. now, a very small percentage are extremely possessive in this pile, but the idea is the same. i’m not ignoring them but only mentioning them slightly bc the small percentage want you to at least be aware that they’re capable of feeling extreme possessiveness (reminder: not the same as jealousy). as long as people know that you guys are together (and it’s been made obvious) and don’t try to cross the line or make passes at you, pile 1 fs is confident enough and typically doesn’t feel the need to prove more

^^ but i will say that some subtle signs of jealousy include trying to look superior to other “threats” to your relationship

stay with me now. they fantasize about you trying your best- whatever that means ?!?! bc of the height difference, if you get sassy with them or even get annoyed at them, all they do is just smirk and make it known that you’re just a doll to them (to keep it very vague w you).

honestly this person would be down to take you anywhere. for some reason, they always want people to know you guys are fucking so they think about doing it in public a lot. this person could work on just simply having nice slow sensual sex in the bedroom tho. i think it’s just cuz they crave the thrill and it’s a fat ego boost. but cmon…it’s nice to just have some chill loving sex once in a while (i’m nudging their spirit abt it)

you guys could be TOTAL opposites and have an enemy-to-lovers trope going on. OR extremely similar feisty, fiery personalities. some people here have a fwb or ewb kind of relationship w them already OR one of you has fantasized abt it

they could honestly give you a whole list of what they like and want to do to you but would rather show you (they’re pretty impatient). they need to know you’re wanting- no- craving the same thing- that you want them as much as they want you

points of interest: teasing to NO end (in bed and out); has a habit of calling you pet names (even when not in a relationship w you) or nicknames; tall; height difference; possible mbti: very VERY estp, entj, a tiny bit of estj vibes; your front or back against the wall; take you down - chris brown; backshots; hands behind head, “try it. i dare you”; “you’re not that strong” (idk who- either you or your person says this in hopes to rile the other up); tickle fights or play fighting that leads to…other things 😏; a friend’s sibling, unexpected or forbidden relationships; going down on you in a closet at a family vacation home (?!?! damn)

——————

Pile 2. ‘Treat me like your doll.’

you or this person could be a switch, but regardless, you will have many chances to take charge

the bondage is too obvious in this pile. they also may have body image issues

this person could be sub-leaning tbh. probably struggles making eye contact with you during the deed or just in general (w/ you or people)

wants to please you and be used by you

masochistic as hell

someone here struggles with very obvious self esteem issues, but through this relationship and learning how to trust and be vulnerable, you will both heal each other on a deeeeeply emotional level. you will make this person feel comfortable in what they fantasize about and this will be reciprocated

for some in this pile, like a good 45% of people, your fs may have dealt with sexual guilt growing up. (for a second, i felt like saying more but it’s safer for me to keep it vague for their sake.) this is reallll vague, so i’ll try to word it more carefully…the guilt can come from a plethora of things…

yk what would be beneficial for them? if you pleasured them while making them look in the mirror

this person is pretty shy with expressing their sexual desires. for many, this could be their first time, or just extremely inexperienced (but they feel embarrassed to admit that)

listen, the emotional sex will be insane. crying, lots of love—if you’re into dacryphilia, this will be your jam

trust is so important for them. also looking at each other’s eyes while going at it

deep long kisses that fade into sloppier, more desperate and needy ones (coming from more of their side)

idk how to explain this kink but it’s like…getting off to something you can’t have? they’d feel guilty about touching themselves to the thought of you (during the time you’re not yet dating each other) and that mental image would spiral into picturing you standing in front of them and just watching them get off to you while they’re on their knees. they see you as someone to be worshipped. they’ll be begging and possibly crying for you to let them cum

yk the deeper i dig into this, the more emotional it gets. i think this person is a huge people pleaser and has found it hard to be loved in this life time. but no worries, bc this relationship will help you both connect and become vulnerable. as long as you’re confident in yourself and carry a normal to high self esteem, you should be great in the relationship

mommy/daddy kink (it doesn’t mention who will be what but it’s def gonna be something they’ll be shy to confess), loves praise, collars (being collared), being your pet

this person would thank you for touching them. they could get pretty poetic in bed when edged for hours and under so much exposure

they def have the ability to be more dominant, but you’d really have to reel it out of them; they’re afraid of messing up

on the other hand, degradation will work wonders on them as long as you soothe those wounds later. praise and degradation will change this person’s life lmfao, as long as your timing is right

they’ll touch themselves thinking about soft and sensual, sensitive and teasing sexual acts, like mutual masturbation or if you use your hand to get them off while peppering their jaw with kisses

very sensitive person so their has to be a lot of trust between you to unlock the…freakier stuff (which is why i’ll cut it short. this is all they’re giving you for now 😎🤚)

points of interest: pinkie promises, very in tune with their feminine energy, “you’ll be here forever, right?”, very soft person with an insane sex drive, shy, doesn’t ask for much- just wants you to be there with them, quietly existing, kinda reminds me of those emo kids who date and kiss in the corner (but you guys will be engaging in no such cringe, esp not in public), shyly clings onto your hand, HOODIES hoodies hoodies, cool toned filters on pictures, matching clothes or accessories- i’m getting one person has a lock and the other with a key, collars with a heart on it, likes when someone gets possessive over them, will unintentionally spill their thoughts and ideas and then apologizes for rambling…i feel like a lot of you in this pile relate to them a lot…like very similar in personality or smth…lot of similarities (even subtle or suppressed parts of your personality), i really don’t think you’d be able to tell they’re a secret freak (maybe thru the way they dress but by personality, prob not), very artistic people- whatever art form they love or seek comfort from, you will find this very attractive and unique

- very small note: i realize that i don’t feel the need to correct the commas and make them semi-colons to show the list. i think it’s their energy being very forgiving and that they don’t care if you mess up (lowkey it’s bc they’re used to being hurt 😞). very unlikely to call out your mistakes. they just want you to be there with them, to love them of their flaws. they will undoubtedly do the same. they just don’t want you to leave them.

———————

Pile 3. If you look at them, you’ll laugh.

ok right of the bat, you guys are unarguably the most “nontoxic”, healthy, but also vanilla relationship out of the piles 😂😂

this person doesn’t have too many crazy ideas or thoughts when they think about sex tbh. they also don’t watch porn or at least are not addicted to it. very vanilla person with a normal sex drive

they prob get off like once or twice a day but sex to them is a bonding activity with you filled with laughter and some jokes (which both of you could work on if you want to ever engage in more kinky and dark stuff, esp since it could be hard for you to get serious and in the mood)

^^ like if you’re being handcuffed and you’re ticklish, this person will tickle you (unless you like this being done, it could mess with the sensual moment a bit 😅)

very gentle person. thinks about caressing your body

very affectionate and wants to tend to your needs. the last thing they want to do is have you in tears after sex (unless it’s happy tears)

they’re mostly serious with sex when they’re touching themselves alone (if you’re not physically there)

if you’re doing long distance, they’ll wait to have sex w you rather than touch themselves

don’t get me wrong yk they’re down to doing the freaky stuff too- but i think you guys are so in the “best friends” laughing with each other all the time, it could get unserious real quick 😂😂 if you’re okay with that, things should be ok for you 👍

open to engaging in all sorts of kinks and sexual fun, but they prefer it to be with you and not with another person involved. not that theyre judgmental of it, they just don’t want to have sex with others watch you guys or having another person/people involved. they prefer it to just be the 2 of you

so much laughing, too many good vibes, they’re completely enamored by you

you could share a similar personality to each other, but weirdly, without disrupting the balance

just touching your skin and cuddling for hours = sex for them

points of interest: EXTREMELY LOYAL; can’t see anyone in this world but you; loves what you think are your flaws; massaging your feet; caressing your body fat; will go wherever you want to go and they’d plan the trip too if you’d like; very kind person—so nice that they could try to help everyone- they don’t look at these as bad things at all; animal person; they’re as warm as they look; it would take a long time to piss this person off bc they’re that understanding; they could come off as too positive and naive tho, if you’re like “don’t you see that person was trying to scam you?” and they’d shrug, pull you close with a grin and be like “it’s okay. they probably needed that money. i don’t mind 🙂‍↔️”, very precious soul, not into polygamous relationships

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Teddy Note: Sorry guys I forgot my little ending speech so I’m going back to add it here- THANK YOU for taking the time to read this. I hope your day is going smoothly and if not, no worries, we got tomorrow. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. I love that saying when any reader says it. Energy can seriously follow you if you dwell on it too much, while thinking about it negatively. Again, thanks for joining me on my readings if you’re new here :)

Have a good one guys. Teddy out 😎👍👍

[hom3landr]

Tea with Honey

Bakerverse

Every relationship has its firsts. Homelander’s budding romance with his Baker is no different. But not all firsts are pleasant.

Homelander can’t wait any longer to visit her. His heart stings and aches from the weight of rejection. There is a hole inside him that he hoped the promise of family would heal. He has no experience with Fatherhood but he’d figured that it would be natural; instinctual. But one can’t learn love in a lab. Even his best intentions came up lacking, a fall from a roof seemed like such a necessary harmless casualty. He doesn’t know how to handle things that were raised soft. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, so he spits it out and seeks reassurance from the hands of a ghost.

Deep deep down, he can’t forget. But that’s ok. The Madelyn in front of him lifts two milk covered fingers to his mouth and he willingly takes the offering given. If she is a ghost then she is one with a warm body, an eager mouth, and a soft lap. She is one with assurances and words he needs to hear. She is one that he can keep on a leash and who won’t disappear into smoke. This is a ghost who knows his sins and lets him sigh them into her skin.

He can’t forget but he can control the memory left behind.

He tells her about you and she eagerly responds to his tales of your softness. She urges him to take you. If he could watch from outside himself, he would see it as the plea it is. For Doppelganger is willing to feed you to the lion, toss you like a piece of meat to a snarling dog, wave you like a flag in front of a bull. Homelander hears Madelyn’s voice as a kindness and doesn’t see it for the desperate distraction that it is.

“What are you waiting for?” She coos. “You’ve shown her that you can be good but have you considered that she longs for the raw power you hold? Once she has experienced your strength then she will beg you to take her.”

It’s what he wants to hear. He’s proven that he can be good yet still your kisses remain sweet and your touches light. The beast within him is growing more difficult to quiet when it howls for that sweet heat between your legs. Your gentility is starting to feel like rejection. The hunger inside him is an empty ache. He needs to take up space in you.

———-

He grins at the fat raindrops that dampen his hair as he leaves the cabin. The ozone is a pleasant scent that lingers in the back of his throat and on his tongue. It tastes like power. He can relate to the wild fury of a thunderstorm. He wishes that his rage could also be seen as something natural and not some sort of flaw. Thunderstorms can rain hail and destruction without consequence and people will still find comfort in the rumble of thunder. Perhaps that is another reason why Stormfront makes him so bitter, he envies that she takes on the characteristics of the storms he loves so much. How dare she show her edges and still be adored?

But Stormfront can’t have you. You’ve told him as much. You admitted how much she gets under your skin. You told him that you don’t trust her and that the very sound of her voice makes your flesh crawl.

The only storm you’ll know is him.

————

Homelander’s hunger for you clouds his judgment and the cracks of thunder echo the hot pounding of his arousal as he contemplates his plan. He can’t wait to surprise you and finally show you what he’s capable of. He’s on autopilot as he flies to your apartment, mind busy with fantasies. He intends to make you scream so loud that even the fiercest weather would be deafened by your pleasure.

He lands on your fire escape and knocks cheerfully on your window. He can hear you startle through the walls, your heartbeat fluttering with surprise. He leans back on his heels and crosses his arms under his cape. He has to suppress a grin when he sees your distorted face through the rain smeared glass. You’re a watercolor painting and Monet can go fuck himself cause your beauty makes his works no more than trash. He longs to keep you hidden away so only he can appreciate you.

You open the window wide so he can climb inside. His wet cape drips puddles all over your floor and your brow furrows briefly at the mess before meeting his gaze with a quizzical smile. He takes a brief glance behind you to inspect your place. He hasn’t been inside since that perfect Christmas night and without the decor it’s painfully obvious that your apartment is in a poor state. He huffs a tiny laugh to himself. It wouldn’t take much to convince you of structural damage. He’ll make sure you have a place to stay.

“I didn’t know you were coming over! I’d have made dinner.” You lament, flustered at being caught in such an unprepared state. He waves your concern away. As pleasant as your cooking sounds, he still fully intends to eat.

“I wanna show you something.” He replies with a smile, gesturing to the open window behind him. He’s surprised that he hasn’t done this sooner. What better way to wow you than to give you a practical application. He’s been good but now he’s starving for you to see behind the gentleman’s mask he wears. He takes a closer look at you. You’re wearing nothing more than an old white t-shirt and some sleep shorts. He thinks if he looks close enough he can see the shadow of your nipples through the material. With the way it’s pouring, he’s bound to get an even better look soon.

Madelyn’s voice still echoes in his ear.

He’s so excited that he doesn’t notice things he’d usually be laser focused on. He doesn’t register the shiftiness of your eyes or the anxious way you fidget every time the thunder rumbles. Your heart is racing because you must still be surprised by his arrival. The scent of fear can’t be because of him. You were probably watching something scary. He can hear the strains of a true crime podcast that you’d turned down playing on the tv.

It’s not because of him.

“Right now?” You ask, nervously scratching your arm as a streak of lightning briefly lights up the sky. His hackles instantly rise at your apparent lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He replies sharply, sharper than he usually is with you. The instant rejection is a fierce sting to his ego. His fantasy already isn’t working out how he planned and he’s starting to feel annoyed and out of sorts. He was so sure you’d be wowed but apparently you’re feeling prissy tonight.

You wince at his tone. You glance anxiously out the window and bite your lip. He begins to tap his foot in impatience. You exhale roughly as though you’re preparing yourself for some great trial.

“I’m sorry you came all this way. I’m not feeling well so maybe we should reschedule. You’re welcome to stay and watch a movie! I can order us some takeou…” You don’t get to finish your sentence.

“I didn’t come here to watch a fucking movie!” He snaps and he hates the way you flinch. It makes his throat tighten up and his chest ache with hurt. You’re making him feel mean and foolish, needy in the way he seeks your attention.

This is all wrong. You’re not being you.

“We don’t have to watch a movie! I have some board games and I know I have a deck of cards somewhere.” You try to do damage control but your continuous deflections only make him more frustrated. Your gaze is wary now; it’s the first time you’ve been wary around him.

He stomps over and grabs your arm firmly. It’s not tight enough to bruise but you can’t pry him off as he guides you over to the window. You struggle and try to stutter out excuses and explanations but he doesn’t want to hear it. He scoops you up in his arms and is out on the fire escape in the blink of an eye. The rain immediately drenches you and he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t even register the way your clothes cling to your form.

“Stop whining. You’re gonna fucking love this. Don’t worry.” He attempts to soothe you. You have to like it. You have to like him. You’re frozen solid in his arms but he knows you’ll relax once you’ve adapted. Without a warning he shoots up into the air like a rocket.

It’s beautiful up in the storm clouds. Despite the flashes of lightning, Homelander knows you are safe even up in the sky. He can sense the sizzle in the air and smell the ozone before electricity splits the sky. He’d never let you be harmed. He wants to share this with you. He wants you to know this part of him. This is what you hold in your hands when you kiss him.

He looks down at you, anxious to see the awe on your face. He wants to smell your need for him mixed with the heady smell of ozone. But instead he’s met with your pounding heart and trembling form. Your hands are curled into icy claws and your breathing is rapid and shallow. Tiny pained noises escape your mouth with every panicked heave. You’re fucking terrified.

“It’s not that bad. I’ve got you.” He reassures you but he’s not even sure you can hear him right now. You shake your head jerkily and a wail escapes you as lightning flashes in the distance.

His heart drops and shatters on the ground far below as he realizes that this isn’t some passing anxiety.

Homelander wants to fucking shake you in anger. How come you’re overreacting now? This is him. You’re supposed to share this with him. He’s giving you this privilege and you’re spitting it back in his face.

You’re supposed to love (him) this. Why don’t you?

“P…please,” You manage to stutter out weakly. “Can we go back now?”

He should fucking drop you.

His fingers twitch with temptation. Of course he’d catch you, but you’d learn there are things worth crying about.

You anxiously paw at his chest.

“I want to go down now!” You sob. His fingers twitch again. You don’t smell like brown sugar anymore.

He startles as he feels a sharp sting across his cheek. You’ve grown wild in your terror now. While he lacks the capacity to bruise, the shock of the impact still has him rattled. Your chest heaves.

“PutmedownPutmedownPutmedown!” You repeat in a furious panic as you pound on his chest with your hands. Your fight response is fully activated and logic is clearly no longer in the picture as you lash out at the very thing keeping you in the air.

He almost lets go.

But instead he slowly glides back down, drawing out your torment out of spite. He drops you coldly onto the slick metal of the fire escape. You grasp the bars like a lifeline and Homelander’s nose wrinkles as you spit bile. You still haven’t ceased wailing.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” He hisses. His mood is blacker than the stormy sky. You don’t even look wounded. You might as well still be stuck in the air as you tremble and wheeze.

He wants to put his hands over his ears to block out your cries. He wants to fly away to safety. He wants to crush your skull. He wants to pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless till you calm. He wants to hold you. He wants to kill you. He wants to beg your forgiveness.

He wants. He wants. He wants.

As if on autopilot himself, he scoops you back up into your arms to carry you inside. He deposits you on the couch, gentler this time despite his whole body shaking with restraint. You curl up into a ball and hide your face from him.

This is like Ryan all over again.

He clenches his fists and storms into your kitchen in a rage. He needs distance from you before he does something rash. He paces like a caged animal in the small space. His reflection in the glass cabinets is judgemental but he refuses to acknowledge them. He ignores the soft calls of his name itching at the back of his consciousness.

“Look at me, Tiger.”

“You need to calm down John.”

“Pathetic! She’s gonna fucking hate you just like everyone else does.”

He slams his fists down on your counter and he hears a crack.

FUCK

His eyes land on a lone mug on your counter. It’s colorful and chipped and so you that the unexpected rush of endearment he feels helps direct him out of his rage. His brow furrows as an idea begins to form. He can fix this. He just needs to do what you would do. He looks around, pointedly avoiding the cabinets. He sees a box of tea bags. He exhales sharply. He opens the fridge and fills the mug with water from your filter. He heats it with his vision till it's bubbling. He dips the tea bag in it and with one last flourish because he’s not sure if it’s safe to face you yet, he locates a container of honey that he gives a generous squeeze.

He takes a deep breath as he exits the kitchen.

You’ve calmed down considerably although your head is still buried in your knees. Your breathing is a little steadier and your agonized wails have quieted into soft sniffles. You’re still shivering as the fading adrenaline and damp clothes send chills through your body. He grabs a blanket from a nearby basket as he tentatively walks over. He sets the tea down on the coffee table in front of your spot on the couch and wraps the blanket around your shoulders. It feels strange, taking care of somebody else. Especially someone he’s still angry at.

“I’m sorry,” Your words are shaky and muffled. You sound so sad. “I’m so so so sorry. I ruined everything”

Homelander freezes, his brow furrowed in confusion. You’re apologizing?

“I have a phobia and I should have said something but it happened so fast. I was so scared and I lost control and panicked. I shouldn't have hit you.” Your voice is thick with guilt.

“Please,” He scoffs, weirdly amused and a little unsettled by your concern. “You couldn’t have hurt me if you tried. Now c’mon and look at me.”

You lift your head. Your eyes are red and swollen.

“I shouldn’t have hit you.” You reiterate and Homelander’s chest tightens. “I’m sorry. It was wrong.”

For a moment the silence is deafening. The sincerity in your gaze unsettles him. You reach out and your fingers tenderly brush the area of impact. It’s not tender. It barely even hurt

Shocked hysterical laughter starts to build in Homelander’s throat at the solemn look on your face.

Well fuck.

Isn’t that a fucking first.

You watch him quietly as he doubles over and holds his stomach. It’s not a laugh of amusement and if he was an outside observer he’d realize just how wounded it sounds. It’s pure emotional release.

You’d barely even given him a love tap. You’re sitting over there with your big wide weepy eyes as though you’d fucking beat him senseless. You’re acting as if you’d thrown him into a fucking oven.

He wheezes until his chest hurts. All the repressed anger and anxiety now flooding out in sheer astonishment. He was so sure you’d hate him.

He feels something warm wrap around his shoulders and his giggles begin to quiet. He looks over to you only to startle for a second at how close you are. You’ve wrapped the other end of the blanket around him. Your expression is soft but unreadable. You rest your forehead against him and he shudders.

“I…” He pauses. He can’t quite articulate what he wants to say. It’s not your fault. He didn’t pay attention. He didn’t listen. But admitting such feels like a weakness. It chokes him.

“I made you some tea.” He says instead, pulling back to hand you the mug. His voice barely shakes.

You smile and as you cradle the mug and take a sip, he notices that you smell like brown sugar again.

“Tea with honey is my favorite.” You reply sweetly, after giving a pleased hum at the taste. He may not have said it out loud but he can tell you understood with the way you look at him. Things are so easy with you. He turns to bury his face in your wet shoulder as you sip.

“I forgive you.” He mumbles, half hoping you don’t catch it.

“I forgive you too” You reply.

He doesn’t sleep with you that night…at least in the primal sense. But it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep on his chest once the two of you decide that a movie might be just the thing for a stormy night after all. Lounging on the couch, while dressed in some soft sweatpants, and with you warm and sleepy on his chest, he comes to the conclusion that this is just as good as fucking anyway. You make soft noise in your sleep and snuggle further into the whorls of hair on his bare chest. (Something you’re absolutely delighted by if your physical response at the reveal was any indication)

In fact, it might even be better than fucking.

He lazily decides that he can love storms enough for the both of you.

[cranberry-writes]

Dating Headcannons for The Boys characters!

Please send requests, i need motivation

Characters listed; Hughie, Butcher, M.M, Frenchie, Kimiko

Warnings; Mentioned drinking and cannon typical violence/language. Also i’m barely on season 2 please bear with me

Hughie;

- He’s so so sweet about your relationship

- He gets you flowers for no reason other than he saw them and thought you’d like them

- He has thousands of reminders so he won’t forget anything, from a drink you liked to your anniversary he will have it written down.

- Later on in the series he gets protective and cautious about the relationship, scared someone (homelander) will mess it up by hurting you

- He’ll probably push you away a bit to try and protect you but after you knock some sense into him he’ll be back to normal

- Loves park/library dates, going on a picnic during the summer and to the library when it’s to cold out.

- He will do so much for you (flowers, gifts, dates etc) and insist it’s nothing but will cry (happy tears) if you do the same

- Don’t get me wrong tho, he’s still a bad ass (sometimes). He just dosnt want you to think differently of him because of it, he’s hurt people, killed people, and he honestly isn’t too keen on focusing on it. Even if you two are in the same line of work.

- And if you two don’t work together he tries to keep his ‘work’ life and dating life separate, very separate.

“You’ve never told me what you do for work, maybe i could stop by and meet your co-workers.”

“Uh, actually, i don’t think that’ll work.”

“Why not? is everything ok there or something?”

“I-, uhm, work alone, so i don’t even have coworkers for you to meet really, it’s really boring infact you’d probably fall asleep just from me talking about it hahaha.”

- You find out like two days later

Butcher;

- Little shit

- I mean that affectionately

- His pet names will range anywhere from “Darlin’” to “Fucker” and i WILL stand by it

- He’ll probably introduce you to his work before he does his dog

- But his dog is the big ticket, you meeting Terror is essentially his way of proposing before proposing

- He’s protective but not in the “i’ll watch your every move” more in the “im teaching you how to use every weapon to ever exist” way

- Honestly work would probably come before you for a while before he sucks it up and actually makes an effort

- Dates will be at the most shity bar imaginable, unless he’s apologizing for something then he’ll take you to the nicest place he can and put on a suit. (it’s the Cheese Cake factory and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt under his jacket but he’s trying)

- Unlike Hughie he will introduce you to his work at some point, granted it would still be a while before he did but he would at some point.

- He’s sweet in his own way

“Darlin’, look what i got ya.” And it’s a Garfield shirt a size to big but you still wear it anyways

MM;

- Definition of husband material

- remembers anything and everything after being told one time

- makes you baths with rose petals and candles and all that stuff if you mention you’ve been tired lately

- Takes you out to the movies and a nice restaurant at least twice a month

- Good gods he’s sweet to you

- He knows how to cook/bake and will make stuff for you all the time

- My guy will make a meal from your culture and practice making it almost daily just to give you a taste of home.

- He really loves back massages and cuddling after a long day

- Put on some crappy reality show for background noise and nap together

- He wants you as far away as humanly possible from his work, will literally say shit like “everyone at work has the plague you can’t visit” as a joke to try and change the subject

- Chances are you won’t find out

- His favorite flowers are tulips and nothing will change my mind about it

“Baby what are these?”

“Tulips, I bought them from a street market on 11th today. They’re your favorite, right?”

“Gods, sweetheart you’re perfect.”

Frenchie;

- When you two meet you both think it’s just going to be a one night stand

-…then it’s two nights, then three, then a week, then you start spending more time at his place than your own. One day you guys just realize you’re moved in and dating

“Are we dating?”

“…Was there anything else we could be mon cœur?”

- honestly i don’t think you two would get together if you weren’t working together, or at least you were also into some shady shit

- But overall you guys have a strong relationship, one gets hurt the other kills someone, someone is hungry the other is already cooking, stuff like that

- He also cooks but it’s only french food, it’s like a super power. He can cook any french food effortlessly but literally anything else he messes up

- If you are french he’ll be super happy someone else will appreciate the same stuff in a similar way

- If not then he’ll be happy to share stuff with you, teach you some french words and tell you about stuff he grew up with

- Honestly he’s just happy someone (other than Kimiko) will listen and take an interest

Kimiko

-I have a confession to make, Kimiko is my favorite and i have a very blatant bias towards her

- Kill anyone you want bby i don’t care ill always like you

- Anyways, It probably takes you a while to get close enough to her that she’ll consider dating you

- Once y’all get to that point i don’t think you could break it tho

- I think she would like constant minimal physical contact, like hand holding or leaning on each other

- I think she’d be pretty protective over you, like someone looks at you wrong and she wants to maul them

- Learn sign language with/for her she will love it

- Draw with her, get her supplies, like those alcohol markers i’m sure she’ll love them

- Honestly i don’t think she’d be big on pet names, she wouldn’t object to it but i don’t think she’d give you one first

- Cook for her, i just think it would be sweet and she deserves it

“I got you some of those markers you’ve been looking at for a while.”

Thank you, this is nice

- Please she’s perfect i love her

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hello! I just finished reading all your writing.. i feel like your characterisation of coop is just so good!

Lately i’ve been fixated on how Cooper would feel about a plus sized partner.. (definitely not just because I’m plus sized myself)

Part of me feels his postwar ghoul self would be feral (pardon the pun) for a woman with a soft squishy body, especially a soft tummy and ass he can sink his fingers into, because someone like that would be so rare in the wastelands, and because it would be so different to his own physique

(Anon, I have a secret to share with you before we even get into headcanon territory; I'm a size 14-16ish, myself, so I definitely relate. I try to keep my reader-insert characters as nondescript as is reasonable in order to keep them accessible, but honestly? Every single character I've ever written is fat, or at least midsized. I feel like my use of words like "soft" and "plush" to describe them, plus references to tummies and bellies, might expose me a bit on that front. Thanks for reading and thanks for the ask!)

Prewar!Cooper Howard just loves women in general, all shapes and sizes. Big fan. He appreciates the female form in every one of its many variations. Back home, he knew plenty of bigger girls, curvier girls, and dated several before he met and fell head over heels for Barb. Once the two of them move to California, there's a noticeable decline in the variation of body types around him, and while he finds the women around him beautiful as well, he also finds himself sort of missing the higher concentration of softer ladies.

After she gives birth to Janey, Barb is pretty self-conscious about her body, but Cooper is quick to reassure her that she is just as beautiful as she was before (even moreso to him since she's grown softer in such nice places, frankly, but he doesn't think that's a proper thing to say out loud). She experiences a lot of pressure to be conventionally thin in her role as an executive, and while he supports her ambitions and what she wants to do with herself, it makes him feel terrible to see her so down on her body sometimes when he loves her (and it) so much.

Post-divorce, I think that a bigger partner, especially someone comfortable in their looks, their personal style, would be a welcome change to him. Like I said in my response to the question about him with a partner with body hair, I think he'd enjoy being with someone who wasn't so "L.A. perfect"; more authentic, at least to him.

He really loves a soft belly on a woman, and it's a treat that's been denied to him for so long. Of course, his favorite place to cum is inside you in whatever form he can get it, but he also likes to spurt all over your breasts and tummy, the sight of the mess cooling on your skin enough to get him going again more often than not. It drives him doubly crazy if you play in it a bit.

Also likes a good tit fuck. Likes it even more if you've got big enough breasts to do it while you sit on the floor in front of him. Getting to smoke a cigarette and sit back and watch you jerk him off with your tits is high up on his list of favorite ways to relax after a stressful day, especially if you tease the head of his cock with your lips and tongue.

Finds big nipples/big areolas very sexy; if you've got either (and definitely if you've got both), you might end up having to fend him off of your chest every once in a while with as often as he'll like to suck and lick and nip the poor things until they're all puffy and sore.

Enjoys using his ability to still pick you up and toss you around as a way to show off to you. It makes him feel virile and strong, so I hope you don't mind a little manhandling from time to time...

The Ghoul is always very pleasantly surprised to see anyone with some substance to them, physically; it's not necessarily that fat or midsize people don't exist, but the incidence of folks who are malnourished, stunted, and emaciated has certainly increased as the centuries have crept by.

He has always been a fairly lean and wiry guy, and life has given him more and more hard edges, so he adores a plush partner; round face, full lips, soft overall features. Big, soft hair, even. It's such a fascinating contrast to himself, to everything around him. The Wasteland is so harsh and strips every last bit of life it can out of every last thing that inhabits it, so to see someone so vivacious and supple...you are spellbinding to him before he even gets to touch you, to say the least.

When he does get to touch you, he wants to be respectful, trying his hardest to control his urge to rip your clothes away and grip your supple skin in his bare hands. He's trying so hard to reconnect with the more tender, gentlemanly part of himself, if it even still exists. But you seemingly have no idea how wild you drive him, how badly he wants to pin you down and feel your warm, pliable form beneath his, kind and sweetly flirty as ever despite how thin his self control is wearing. It's not long before the feeling he's trying to ignore consumes you both and he becomes intimately familiar with just how soft your body really is.

The man already had a breeding kink long ago, but it comes back with a vengeance if he meets the right person. He already finds himself drawn to your wide hips and thick thighs, but once he's fallen for you, once he's decided that you're his and he wants you to be his forever, they take on a whole new light. All he can think about his how good those wide hips would feel in his hands as he pumps you full, how beautiful your little tummy would look adorned with a baby bump.

Big fan of thigh-fucking, especially if you're not particularly rad-resistant; its a nice way for him to put you on your back, your legs on his shoulders the way he likes, pumping away at you in a way that feels natural without having to worry about making you incredibly sick or hurting you if he can't pull out in time. Or if he produces a lot of precum, which he is prone to. You both love and hate it, the head of him bumping and teasing against your clit depending on the angle, but never stimulating you enough to make you cum yourself. Fortunately, he's quite faithful about planting his head between your thighs and finishing you off once he's done.

If you are rad resistant, he still loves it; in fact, he loves it even more because he can fuck your thighs until he's about to finish, and instead of coating your stomach and mound, he can shove his weeping cock inside you at the last second and breed you, the sudden, wet heat around him making him cum even harder. Best of both worlds.

[azzifudd]

was able to get through the paywall!☺️

WEST SPRINGFIELD — When UConn women’s basketball player Azzi Fudd first tore her right anterior cruciate ligament in the summer of 2019, she struggled through the physical and mental toll she faced during her recovery.

Despite the pain she endured to get back onto the court - or maybe because of that experience - Fudd remembers barely being fazed when she tore her right ACL for a second time.

“My reaction shocked me,” Fudd said on Saturday at Hooplandia. “I thought for sure I would just cry. The first time I was a mess, I cried, I was so sad. (But) when it happened this time, I felt like I kind of knew.

“I’ve been working the last few years on the mental side of the game, working on my mindset, my confidence, my self-talk... so I was like ‘Ok, I’ve been through this before, I know how big the mental aspect is - what am I going to do to help myself get through it this time and handle it a lot better than I did in high school’ because I didn’t handle it well. So when it happened (again), I was really upset, but I didn’t let myself go down that rabbit hole of what could’ve been if I was healthy.”

But even her stronger mental approach could not lessen the most difficult factor of recovery: the wait.

“Surgery was fine, all that was fine. It’s harder halfway through the season when I’ve been sitting through games, I’ve been cheering, I’ve been positive,” Fudd said. “And then it hits you, like, 10 games of just sitting on the bench cheering (and realizing) ‘I still have so many more games to sit here and cheer and still not play/’

“It’s definitely really tough, (the wait is) one of the harder things that people don’t talk about.”

Fudd stressed how important her physical rehabilitation process was in helping her regain trust in her body.

“Do your rehab, it’s so important,” Fudd said.

“I lived, ate, breathed my rehab and when it was time to come back, everyone was like, ‘Did you have doubts, did you think you were going to tear it again’, I didn’t have any doubts... because I knew all the hard work that I put in (during) my rehab process so I knew how strong my leg was, I knew what I was capable of doing because I did so much to prepare myself.”

Basketball was the driving force behind Fudd’s determination during this process and finding that reason can make all the difference.

“At the end of the day, I love basketball and that’s what I wanted to keep doing, that was my purpose behind my rehab,” Fudd said. “Some people, they might be done playing basketball, but they still want to rehab, whether it’s to play a different sport, to be a singer, to be a dancer - you’re still rehabbing for a reason. Remember what that reason is, it doesn’t have to be basketball anymore, it can be something else, but just find that reason and keep going.”

Thank you!!

Aww Azzi, it sucks obviously that she had to go through it again, but it seems like she knew her mentality had to be and was going to be different this time around. She let herself be upset, but not to the point where she spiraled about 'what could've been.' Which is what she said at that summit a few months ago too. 100% makes sense that just sitting and waiting to play again was one of the hardest parts, Paige struggled with that too. Even when you're trying to be positive and cheer for your teammates. I hope she's really able to come back confident in her body. You really gotta be a different breed mentally to be a pro athlete and not just wanna quit lol

[teamcavota]

50 milo murphy's law facts

5 not so fun and 45 fun!

Not so fun to start!

The only Milo Murphy's Law official merchandise is a notebook released in Japan for the MML X PNF crossover.

Disney actually apologized to Dan (and I assume Swampy) for the treatment of Milo Murphy's Law. Dan has expressed frustration at the MMLs treatment before, citing the Hiatus between s1 and s2 and the fact it did not air on the main Disney Channel.

Doof appears in more episodes than Cavendish and Dakota in s2 (this is the real reason we needed a s3). Also, while PNF/Doof stuff was planned from the start, Disney did push for more PNF.

When season 2 was airing, new episodes would randomly be released in other countries.

Milo was cut from CATU due to a feeling from Disney that audiences would not recognize his cameo.

ok LAME ones out of the way

On the first drawing of Milo there are three names beside it: Milo, Mikey, and...Monty. As you probably know the Mikey one got pretty far and is the name used in the pitch bible (and was referenced with "I am Mikey!".) The reason Mikey was changed to Milo was not a creative choice, but because there was a popular YouTuber named "Mikey Murphy."

Speaking of, Milo was also just going to be another character apart of a different pitch, but Dan kept thinking he should go into his own show. He went to Swampy and asked him what he thought of Milo (at the time Mikey) and the idea of a show about Murphys Law. it took them about an hour to come up with the concept pitch.

You can find several of MML song dubbings on YouTube and other platforms. Most notably the Japanese version (マイロ・マーフィーの法則) highly worth checking out. Fun fact in a fun fact, Doof and Dakota also share the same voice actor in this dubbing.

In re-airings of some of the first MML episodes, second versions were made that included Cavendish and Dakota in the background.

Yes, Melissa was originally going to feel the lasting effects of the pistachion uprising by remaining looking like one instead of Bradley having his arm turned into a vine. This would have been a source of conflict for her in season 2, but in the end they felt it was too much of a change. As far as Bradley's plant arm it was originally only going to come out sometimes before it was changed to being a constant thing. He does have feeling in this arm.

The Island of Lost Dakota's was going to include a scene with merman Dakota's ("merkotas"). There was also going to be "mutation" Dakotas, such as ones with multiple heads.

There exists a live action version of the Milo Murphy's Law theme song. well, sorta, watch it

Before Milo came out Dwampy made the song "we're gonna do it again."

MML was originally set to debut in early 2017.

Weird Al did not originally come to mind for Milo. One of the idea voices they had was Noah Z Jones (Fish Hooks). They auditioned hundreds of people for Milo, but many had issues such as sounding too nervous in their lines. It wasn't until Alex Hirsch (Gravity Falls) posted a photo with Weird Al that Dwampy realized he'd be perfect for the role.

Sara is based on a friend of Dwampy.

In tune with the popular headcanon/fan theory, it's possible they did actually consider making Cavendish a descendant of Milo. When Cavendish was going to agree he also liked Milo, he was going to say he was his descendant. *this may have also just been a joke line

Milo and Cavendish are meant to mirror eachother in the fact Milo deals with Murphy's Law and Cavendish is the "author of his own misery" in regards to things going wrong.

Another thing they considered was the possibility of Dakota and Cavendish being in a romantic relationship, but they ultimately decided they wanted them to have them represent a strong male friendship.

The Milo Murphys Law crew did keep up a fanart and concept art wall. Here, here, and here are some photos.

There was a baby Cavenpus cut from final productions.

There are no official ages for Dakota and Cavendish. Dan has said he believes Cavendish to be older, while Joshua Pruett has said he believes Dakota to be the older one and by a bit of a margin.

Pistachios came to be a thing in the show because a son of some of Dan's neighbors had been allergic to specifically pistachios. They needed an idea for the larger plot and somehow those two came together. (Swampy also notes it's a funny word).

Several of the scripts for MML storyboarders included just the words, "and Murphy's Law happened."

Dan has made at least one Vinnie Dakota dedicated Tiktok similar to his Doof ones.

The Doof and Dakota lines were recorded together, back and forth.

Melissa was going to have a hamster nemesis named Ham. In the Pitch Bible the name wasn't included, but it's explained it was a pet class hamster that would always escape and end up on her things.

The secret handshake Milo and Zack do in scream-a-tourium was intended to be longer.

The studio executive for MML originally thought The Island of Lost Dakota's was a joke idea until he read the script.

There was a MML kids menu at Disneyland circa 2016.

Dakota and Cavendish were originally not in the shows ideas, nor was any B-plot, but being used to it in PNF the writers room felt they "needed something to cut away to"

Joshua Pruett pitched for the MML x PNF crossover for where when Milo opened his backpack to pull out the thing he needed to save the world it'd be...Phineas and Ferb.

Dakota is the reason parking tickets exist, as he can be a bit careless about leaving time vehicles all over the place. Dakota is proud of this.

Melissa's likeness and name is based on Dan's daughter Meli, as to sorta "balance out" Isabella also being based on his other daughter.

They considered a twist where Bob Block would be an alien wearing a face mask.

"Cavendish Farms" is an episode that never came to be pitched by Pruett where in order to track Cavendish Dakota would try to duplicate Cavendish, though none of them would quite be Cavendish. One of the Cavendishs would have a heart to heart with Dakota, while Doof would ultimately call out Dakota for what he's doing and tell Dakota "you already know what he would do." dwampy rejected this idea because this was a bad idea, to which pruett felt that is exactly why Dakota would have tried it. if renewed, pruett would have tried to convince them more on it.

Chop Away at My Heart was originally called "Jump Jump Jump" and was made for another project by one of Dan's friends. After Dan have asked to transform it into something else for Milo, Joshua Pruett suggested a "Lumberjack themed boyband" in the script.

unfortunate split for character block limit

Dakotas voice was inspired by Elvis Costello. It's also the harder voice for Dan in comparison to Doof.

Mark Hamill originally auditioned to play a teacher on the show, but Dwampy liked his audition so much they decided he'd better fit Mr. Block.

In the MML pitch bible it is stated, "Mikey has a destiny to fulfill, something vital to the future of the planet." The goal of Cavendish and Dakota would be to make sure he stays on the right path.

There IS a full version of We're Going to the Zoo, which was played by Dan in this interview at 3:00:30. Several MML songs have had full versions leaked, implying this is probably the case for some other songs too.

Like several other characters, Sara in the MML pitch bible was different from her show counterpart, being "a hipster like Thora Butch in Ghost World."

The song "A World Without Milo" is based on the song "Happy Together" by "The Turtles"

Almost every character, including creatures or minor one-offs had a name in the script. An example is "Pia," the name of the poodle Diogee falls in love with.

In regards to when Dakota talks about cutting through the Mesozoic in First Impressions and the fact it is illogical, Dan says this is likely just Dakota being Dakota (aka, it was a mistake), and not every such line should be taken serious.

In a deleted "Snow Way Out" line it was confirmed that the raccoon in Going the Extra Milo and Fungus Among Us is recurring raccoon.

Brick and Savannah were going to have a role in the crossover.

Story ideas from the MML pitch bible that never came to include a beach episode, a Friday the 13 episode, and an episode where Cavendish and Dakota try convincing Milo to take a self defense class leading to conflict with a hidden ninja gang.

For unspecified characters (probably multiple different sets) Pruett wrote in hugs that were cut by (mostly) Dan. In response, he says he "put 4 in so at least 1 stays."

S3 would have likely included: A third Block (yes, still voiced by Mark Hamill and a Block "family meeting"), Milo creating the universe, Dakota and Cavendish getting the promotion they wanted but being unsatisfied, Elliot cleverly being connected to the overarching plot, AU exploration (akin to pnf) including an episode where Dr Zone is real, and a conclusion to the Prof Time arc. The overarching plot would have been the "biggest yet."

credits to: danvillecheese for suggestions + encouragement, cheetochild989 for facts the fact about going to the zoo and a world without milo, the 2nd dimension on YouTube, my hamsterward friends, and of course all the talented people who worked on MML :3

[stromuprisahat]

“Alina,” Nikolai said softly, “that’s what heroes do.”

Siege and Storm- Chapter 21

That awkward moment, when the Blade Boy might have a point, but you have a strong suspicion it's just sheer luck, because he very much sounds like a child trying to lead the attention away from his own wrongdoing.

Awwwww... what do you think- would anyone bother protesting, if Malyen were to be executed for skipping his duties, resulting in death of THE Sun Summoner?

... but MU, maybe Mal's just feeling guilty! Yeah, or perhaps he realized his life means nothing compared to Alina's and no amount of fighting buddies and popularity would save his ass should Alina die thanks to him no less.

... and here it comes.

If there's a one (1) person in the trilogy, who should be taken down a notch, it's Malyen. He's the one, who flew through confidence straight up into arrogance. Even his self-doubting moment isn't about humility, but self-pity.

The narrative rewards his self-importance with confirmation and grants him everything he wants.

How is the narrative expecting us to agree and feel for him, is beyond me.

Nikolai is incredibly tactful, so he receives a snide barb in return.

I'm too tired ... as if that was a reason for concessions and coddling? Whose fault it is? Who caused it (by their own careless decisions)?

Malyen brutally fucked up his only excuse to stick around, yet he automatically assumes he's off the hook, because he's ✨The Super Special Important Detector✨ and Alina's okay after all?

Have someone else look for the firebird (and find it), or let him do it after a fitting punishment.

Does he think it's a chicken or something? Even if it had nothing to do with actual fire, it's a big, immortal bird of prey he's NOT ALLOWED kill!

The amount of disregard and disinterest in a single sentence! I came up with unnecessary problem- have YOUR people solve it. It's what they're for, isn't it?!

He's no better than those spoiled nobles. The only difference is his lack of power over Grisha.

How little he thinks about Alina's safety!

"You have only three guards, because somehow I'm the Captain and I don't intend to bring in more? Give me one of the remaining two to leave with on a quest ~I~ want to go to!"

Sometimes I wish Alina would get killed due to her flimsy security. She might not deserve it, but it would make more honest story.

Either Nikolai's badly misreading the situation or he's trying to prop up the Blade Boy for Alina's sake. There's nothing heroic about getting smashed daily and failing to protect people they were ~supposed to~ keep safe due to his own negligence.

Major, who ~earned~ his rank should be more realistic.

[symbiotic-slime]

My Venom/Malevolent Crossover Ramblings

there’s like 15 of you guys who liked that post so i figured i would share my idea! also shout out to @bat-luun and @french-toast-enjoyer for letting me ramble about this in ur dms while I was trying to solidify the idea :D

It revolves around how similar Arthur and Eddie’s careers are. Arthur was a private investigator and now gets sent around investigating various cults and Eddie is an investigative journalist. so if I could get them to the same time, it would be pretty easy to have them meet.

So my idea is that Kayne uses his time fuckery magic to send Arthur and John to San Fran in the the 21st Century to find some random mcguffin he wants. Arthur starts investigating this cult, which from the other cults in Malevolent tend to be like the higher ups of society.

Eddie would be investigating the cult for completely different reasons. maybe there’s like money laundering, maybe people have disappeared and it seems to be tied to this group idk. One day while on the job he runs into Arthur, and they decide to be partners while working on this case.

Cue a bunch of shenanigans where they are both trying to act completely normal and like they aren’t sharing a body with another entity. They both keep noticing how weird the other one is acting but never speak up about it lest they be discovered for also doing weird things. Both John and Venom are suspicious of the other person, but neither of them want to make the first move.

Eventually, Eddie and Arthur are caught by the cultists. They’re surrounded. Eddie gives up on protecting their identity and transforms into Venom to save their lives. Afterwards Eddie tries to explain what happened to Arthur, expecting him to be freaked out and terrified, but Arthur is just like “Wait. You’re like me?” and tells Eddie about John.

Arthur also gets his moment to use his powers, just not in combat because let’s be honest John and Arthur aren’t very formidable in like any combat scenario. Their lead turns up dead. Eddie’s frantic, trying to figure out what happened and how to continue their investigation. Arthur touches the person, learning how they died and helping them continue to unravel what happened and who did it.

While this is all going on, both Eddie + Venom and John + Arthur learn things about each other and their relationships through the other. Is this fic idea also an excuse for me to write John and Arthur learning how to fucking communicate for once because they see Venom and Eddie acting as a team? Yes, yes it is.

Eddie gives Arthur advice on bodysharing and successfully navigating a romantic relationship like that, completely unaware that they’re not officially dating each other. Insert a Rosa Diaz “you two just need to bone” moment.

Eddie and Arthur get coffee together after the cult bullshit is said and done. John and Arthur are getting along a lot better. When Eddie tries to ask if they took his advice, Arthur blushes furiously and tells him that this is not an appropriate conversation to be having. Eddie smiles smugly for the rest of their time together.

Also Kayne dies because I hate him (sorry to all the Kayne lovers out there I understand why u like him he just pisses me off). It would be incredibly funny if it was treated as unseriously as Cletus’ death in Venom Let There Be Carnage where Venom just says “fuck this guy” and bites his head off.

tagging the people who said they wanted to hear my ramblings: @izzythedemigod @larsons-shattered-eyeballs @izel-reblogs :D

[dewffin]

soo... I think I accidentally began to make a Silmarillion Fangame...

For some unknown reason i was like "I wanna make textures :D" but i didn't want to model shit, so i just used VROID studio as a painting book... but then i was like "ummm, i never tried to draw a character an then tried to make it 3D in vroid" so uh-

yeah...

and then i was like "let´s drop this bad boy in Unreal to see how he looks" and because, well, i don't know why i decided to try to make him look a bit 2D? like he was drawn? like doing the complete opposite of what i just did?

so this is what he looked when i began to play with post process stuff

and because i wanted to look around and stuff i added a little guy i had, and it turns out that he was really little and i had to make him a box to take pics of Fëanor's face

Then i did more stuff and i ended up with these cute flowers :D

And then I said fuck it, i think I'm making a game...

So the thing is that doing a game doing a game while being a one person studio is a biiiiiit difficult.

By that i mean i had to try to keep my head leveled in what i could do, so I ended up with this...

Tecilwë's Adventures in Arda

(yeah, i don't have a name for this)

So, you play as Tecilwë, a noldorin journalist that travels around trying to document the best stories of Arda. You can find out what is happening around by talking with people, sneaking around or finding clues. Then, you can write your take on what happens, and depending on what you say, how you say it and what secrets do you keep your reputation as a journalist and your relationship with the different character you find can change for better or worse.

A little bit about Tecilwë...

Q Tecilwë Autanna -  S Tegilu

Tecilwë - The one who writes [tecil “pen”, wë “person”] or as i like to call them "El pibe birome"

Autanna - the lost sign, the fool sign [au “away, lost”, aut “fool”, tanna “sign, token”]

A young lore master from Tirion. Studied under Rumil, and is excited to document all that happens in the course of the story. 

Curious and eager to learn. More often than not ends up in trouble for documenting what was not supposed to be seen.

Tecilwë believes in the power of the word, and on how truth is composed by those who write it.

Not often remembered, wants to be remembered as one of the great lore masters. But the curse of the Noldor runs deep…

Basically a player insert

Y alto chismoso

What i have for now in gameplay is that you can run around a location (and you'll be able to travel to different places, but time passes so, for example, if you leave Aman you cannot go back, or if Gondolin fell then you cant go there). There as i wrote you can talk to people and find out stuff, and all what you find you write in your journal, which you can check to remember what you have seen. With all of that you can unlock new dialogues, and when you get enough information you can end the day and write like a newspaper or magazine. If, for example, you found that gasp Maedhros and Fingon are being two love birds behind a tree, you can write about that in different ways. A- You just say thing as they are. B- You say that is great to see the unity in the House of Finwë. C- Accuse Fingon of corrupting the innocent eldest of Fëanor. D- say nothing about this. With A you get lower relationship points with Russingon for exposing them. B gets you a good realtionship with them, but lower with Fëanor. C gets you a good amount of points with Fëanor, but the other two will hate your guts. And with D, nothing changes, but you can confront them about their relationship and tell them to be more careful if they want to keep it a secret.

Also if you write a lot about gossip stuff you will lose credibility and that is kinda a way to not being remember as the great Lore Master you want to be...

Also i love how FIngon's hair is coming out. This is like a first draft but it was fun to make.

Also this motherfucker is so fucking tall

And this is one of my favourite screenshots from when i had Fëanor as the playable character

(also here is really noticeable that i added lights to their eyes, and it switches form golden to silver light)

In short, a gossip simulator

Also i cannot wait to make the "Who is Gil-Galad's dad" level

[chaifootsteps]

would you shuffle around the ranking for your worst Stolas lines after this episode? darn near every line from him this episode was infruriating, so I could probably do a top 5 just on this episode alone

unordered highlights for me:

1 'have you ever apologized' or whatever the phrasing was there

-> Stolas has absolutely no right to say that to Blitzo of all people, especially when he literally apologized after Ozzie's and tried to a second time before Stolas physically removed him from his house (and Stolas didn't deserve an apology either of those times). Stolas has never once apologized for everything he's done to Blitzo. He barely even apologized for the full moon deal.

2 'I don't look down on you! when have I ever'

-> just roll the clipshow whenever he keeps pulling that manoeuvre

3 'are you here to judge me?' / 'celebrating mutual pettiness' / roll all of Stolas' comments about the party being childish into one, honestly

-> a small one but Stolas is being hypocritical, yet again. How dare Blitzo judge Stolas when Stolas says the party is petty but goes anyway then calls him a motherfucker onstage after acting like he wanted to work things out. Stolas is so desperate to ignore he acts like an immature teenager that he acts like he only went to he party to be polite when he 100% was being petty and has been acting petty since minute one of the episode starting.

4 'So you’re used to being the one who crushes others’ feelings, hm?'

-> again Stolas of all people has no right to say this. He's never given a fig about anyone's feelings but his own, especially not Blitzo - the only thing you want to hear out of him is some gushing 'I love you' speech. Not to mention that he's framing this like it's some breakup where he wanted to be serious and Blitzo led him on and broke his heart. Uh, no. They had a transactional fucking. That Stolas initiated. The self-serving logic is of the charts on this one.

5 'I’m uncomfortable with how you’re speaking to me now.'

-> but every time Blitzo was uncomfortable his feelings didn't matter, did they? Now that Blitzo is behaving exactly how Stolas previously wanted and won't indulge Stolas' romcom romance fantasies, Stolas doesn't like it. He can't handle being reminded he made it all about sex and instead tries to front like Blitzo is disrespecting his boundaries when he never gave a crap about Blitzo's boundaries or consent before and that all this sex talk is out of left field.

6 'You speak just like that vile Striker friend of yours.'

-> self-explanatory tbh. Sure is terrible Blitzo points out the material reality of the class difference. I guess Stolas is just applying magical thinking here where if he refuses to acknowledge the class difference it magically goes away, even though the only reason Blitzo is in his life in the first place is because his father bought him a friend. Also, friend? Blitzo riskedM&M's safety by sending them to fight him to a standstill and Stolas calls him Blitzo's friend just to be a dick about it

7 'The one who tried to kill me and you couldn’t be bothered to come help me.'

-> giving this one a separate entry because seriously fuck Stolas for this one. He's an ungrateful prick who didn't even remember Blitzo sent M&M to help, risking his employees. And when he finds out Striker tried to kill him once before he doesn't care Blitzo had already saved his life once - he just hyperfocuses on the fact Blitzo didn't tell him about it (even though Blitzo didn't even know til later that Stella hired Striker and Stella screamed at the dinner table about it).

8 'It’s not an imp’s place to protect a Goetia is it?'

-> where is he even going with this? He thinks Blitzo was using his being a prince as an excuse not to help him, or something?

(Except Blitzo did help. He sent M&M.)

And if he meant this question literally and that it's just about class with Blitzo, then it's pretty rich because Stolas literally has lower class guards and imps serving him and it would be seen as entirely their place and duty to throw themselves in the line of fire to protect Stolas. He's so unaware of his own status it's laughable.

9 'How I’ve tried so fucking hard to spend time with you, to support you? You don’t owe me those things, but you can’t just ignore all that!'

-> 'support' here meaning extort sex out of someone in exchange for keeping their business going (and make sexual comments when he was on the verge of a panic attack)

spend time with = send vague noncomittal texts instead of saying directly what he wants, presumably?

10 'Look how I acted this morning' / 'This morning?'

Stolas implies Blitzo needs to apologize for more than just that morning. Self victimization again, ignoring Blitzo is just responding to his crap half the time

Don't have to, you took the words right out of my mouth.

Every single goddamn line he has in this episode is unspeakably vile.

[nicomoon69]

College Prof AU:

Do you think students went to write their fics on ao3 only to realize that Tim Drake was already a tag with hundreds of fics already made? They were all made in the late 2000’s/early 2010’s.

“What do you mean Professor Drake is TDW???”

“My aunt has a shrine of him wtf”

They also found one (1) Bernard x Tim doc written (by Darla obv).

Linguistic students just keep winning the War.

oh yeah it would be the biggest shocker while also making complete sense after they realize he is THE Timothy Jackson Drake. like he has some weird quirks that people used to write off and then it all made sense

I think the reason ppl just didn’t put two and two together is that Tim just looks wildly different with his attempt (heavy on attempt) to grow a beard and slicked back hair. there’s ppl online begging him to shave and stop using the gel (when Bernard realizes its Tim he’ll make fun of him for copying his high school hair)

this just also makes me think abt older generations having what are basically Tim Drake photo cards. idk think it’d be rlly funny if a student pulled up with a binder one day and went “look at what my mom showed me” and its just a shit ton of photos of Tim in his early 20s from like magazines and crappy pictures taken of billboards

when Bernard’s students find out they go crazy bc “how are we suddenly losing the war so so badly”

Tim and Bernard through all of this are ofc completely oblivious somehow and keep on bitching like an old married couple <3

[onlymurphy]

Four AM

Spoilers: None!

Guess the fuck what? Another. Sad. Blond!

You spend your nights wandering the shelves of a local gas station when the weight of the world becomes too much. When you meet a strange man who offers his help, your nightly routine quickly spirals into a dangerous evening of curses and blood. The man quickly goes from strange passerby to savior, and though you're rattled and unsure thanks to the monsters that are lurking in the dark, you can't help but be infatuated with the man that keeps them at bay.

Nanami Kento x gn!reader (no y/n)

Angst | Fluff

PG-13

TW: Canon-typical violence, light mention of injury, nightmares.

Cross-posted on A03

Request here

There are few places on Earth where time is simply different. Through some doors, time swirls in endless circles down a funnel and back up again to surround us in a veil of confusion and aw, washing us away much like the tides of the sea.

The gas station at four in the morning is one of these places. 

There’s not another soul in sight as you scan the artificially lit aisles of the shop. Not even the clerk bothered to stick around in the front of the store when you entered, so used to your visits in the dark that he knows you don’t have it in your gut to steal. In his absence, the only eyes that watch you are those of the people plastered onto the soup cans and potato chip bags. Something about them makes you feel stalked. They linger about you as you browse your late-night snack options. They watch, judge, and you swear that you can hear their chilling laughter cut into you with every step. 

It isn’t the first night you’ve wandered into the after-dark energy that lingers in the gas station just across the street from your apartment. After your the others living in the building head to bed and the best of TV is over for the night, it isn’t rare for you to find yourself feeling something. It’s reminiscent of a weight on your shoulders, but not in a metaphorical sense like the weight school places on you. It quite literally feels like someone has placed pounds upon pounds on your body, pounds that only bear down when you’re alone and in the dark. 

The gas station never lifts the weight, but it’s enough to distract you from it when it keeps you from sleeping. 

Now, however, after wandering across the highway night after night to grab yourself a snack and drink, lingering one second too long in the presence of the store clerk just to feel another soul residing beside yours, the routine is beginning to grow stale. The late night lights of the street lamps and the heavy air of the gas station just don’t stimulate you like before. 

Still, it’s routine. In the pool of uncertainty you’ve waded into as of late, it’s a bland comfort that adds a savory ounce of consistency to your existence. 

Your favorite snack being moved to the top shelf, however, is not routine. 

It seems like such a minor thing, the little package being bumped up two shelves so it sits just out of a comfortable line of view. What a trivial act, too trivial to leave you with the burning rage that begins to slowly build up in your gut like a rock. It sits heavy, heavier than the weight on your shoulders. For no reason at all, tears begin to prick at the very edges of your eyes. It feels stabbing, piercing. The feeling isn’t new. It comes in tandem with the weight, but instead of succumbing to weeping and the desperate heaving of your chest in public, you simply wipe away the tears with your sleeve. 

Not now. Though small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe around you, you’re on a mission.

With a shaking hand, you reach up far over your head to try and snag the package from it’s perch. You know it’s useless in your gut. You’re going to have to rise up high on your tippy toes to obtain the prize, but the momentary defiance of your height’s limitations gives you a split second opportunity for control. For just a blink, your life is yours, and the weight is gone. 

“Allow me.” 

The sound of another person’s voice is nearly foreign when the notes strike your ears. You don’t turn as quickly as you’d like to, your entire body being absolutely suffocated by the weight. Before you can face the owner of the hand, he’s speaking to you. 

“Excuse me” the man begins, voice smooth and contrasted to the aggression of the fluorescent lights above your head. “Here you are.” 

There’s a disconnect. This, this towering man in all his exhausted and heavy intensity, is not a constant in your life. In fact, he’s brand new. Raw and mysterious without any sense of familiarity in your own eyes reflected back at you in his glasses, the moment makes you begin to shrink back into yourself. 

His movements are small, but you notice the instant the large hand holding your snack gestures a bit toward you. “Excuse me?”

  There’s a tremor in your hand as you reach for the package. For some reason, you half expect him to simply vanish when you pull the food from his grip, like the only thing keeping him tethered to existence is his need to fulfill this task for you. Your hand grips around your snack, pulling it gingerly from his calloused fingertips before holding it before yourself like it’s a newborn child. Despite your irrational fear, the man doesn’t disintegrate into the wind. No. Instead, he gives you what looks like a tiny smile. 

“Are you alright?” he wonders. “You look…startled.” 

Startled, spooked, horrified so deeply in your core that there’s no hope of you ever feeling correct again.

You lower the package of food to your side and shake your head, but no words slip past your lips. The look in his eyes, the very small glimpse of his irises that you can see beyond the tinted glasses that cling to his face, renders you silent. Even if you had words to say, there’d be no hope of you being able to say them to him. 

His expression doesn’t change as he reaches onto the shelf again and pulls a bottled coffee to himself. “Need anything else you can’t reach?” 

Though rude in their construction, his words don’t carry any sort of malice or judgment. They’re flat and bland. They’re nothing, but for some reason, the vibration of their existence echoes around in your skull for much longer than necessary. 

“Um” -your word trails off until it’s nothing more than a breath- “I-no. No, I don’t. Thank you.” 

Your voice doesn’t sound like you. It comes off quiet and slightly choked, but the man’s shoulders lose some of their tension upon hearing it. That expression you suspect to be the infant beginning of a smile on his face brightens just a touch. 

“You’re welcome.”

  His words are much less stale then before. There’s a bit of warmth behind them, and with their arrival you feel some of the fear lodge in your gut ebb away. 

You fidget with the packaging in your fingers, finally being able to break way from his gaze as you look down to your toes. You’re still wearing your tattered, most comfortable shoes. You just slipped them on for the small walk to the gas station from your apartment, but standing beside his squeaky clean brown dress shoes, you feel just a bit musty and under dressed. 

Huh, to feel under dressed in a gas station.

You never even dreamed it was possible. 

The man then begins to tap the toe of his shoe on the tile flooring, drawing your attention back up to his eyes. 

“Anyway” -he reaches up to remove his glasses, running his thumb along the length of his eyebrows- “Have a nice night. Please try to be careful getting home in the dark.” 

You nod, but once again you’re being choked by your own words. He seems, however, used to your silence. 

He leaves without another word. With a flick of his wrist, a bill surely too large for what his coffee was worth landed on the vacant counter, and he’s gone back into the night. 

Something about the sight of the darkness swallowing him up unsettles you. He was not a particularly kind man. He didn’t carry joy and light with him, and yet there’s something in you that wants to run after him into the black. You want to be near him again. You want to feel his presence. 

“Hey!”

You turn your head to the clerk. He holds the bill the man threw down on the counter. 

“You put this here?” he wonders, waving the money to and fro. 

You shake your head, but it takes so much effort with the weight now blistering into your shoulder that you only manage one rotation. 

“No” you tell him. “A guy came in here, left it for a coffee he bought.” 

The clerk narrows his eyes. “Blond guy, tall, freaky?” 

You shrug. 

“Ah” he grumbles, shoving the money away into the register. “Creepy guy. Comes in every couple of days to buy coffee and buns. Freak.” 

Creepy isn’t the word you’d use to describe him. He was intense, imposing.

  Handsome. 

You wave the thought away and head to the counter yourself, chips in hand. The clerk gestures toward the door. 

“Don’t bother” he tells you. “Blondie paid enough to buy the whole stock of those. Go home, kid.”

You squeeze the bag tightly in your fist. “Thank you.”

  He gives you a nod and with that, you’re out the sliding door. The air outside bites now, seeming much colder than it had when you entered. It’s strange, actually. The temperature seems much too low for Tokyo in September. 

Again, you try your very best to ignore this disturbance in your evening. Instead you watch the cars rip down the highway as you approach, avoid them as you cross the street, and listen to them fade behind you as you head toward the form of your apartment building looming in the distance.    -

Your apartment is freezing when you close the door. It’s somehow colder in your home than it is in the unseasonably cold September air. You exhale, your breath visible as it swirls out into the air. You glance over at the thermostat beside your door. 

There’s no possible way you should be seeing your breath. 

You exhale again, watching as the plume of hot air leaves your lips.

“Shit” you mutter. “What the hell?” 

All you can settle for is turning the thermostat up a few degrees before throwing your snack down on the kitchen table and heading to your bedroom. 

It’s somehow even more freezing than the living room. You check your windows and find them shut up tight, so a warm pair of pajamas is the only thing you can think to solve your problem. 

They don’t help, but you can pretend that they do. 

There’s a silence that hangs over your apartment when you linger in the center of your bedroom. Most would think a dark apartment at four in the morning would be a little spooky, but you’re used to your own home looking like this. You’re a night owl, and it’s nothing new for you to be awake at this hour. It’s almost more comforting for you to be in the dark silence of your home rather than the light.

What is new is the way your apartment feels heavy, almost like the oppressive weight of an absurdly humid day. You feel dirty, like the weight of the room is seeping into you rather than pressing down on you. It’s vile. It makes your stomach churn and your head begin to throb like a bad hangover. 

Your head snaps up when a loud bang sounds from the kitchen. It sounds like metal falling, bouncing across the wood flooring a few times before coming to a rattling stop. 

Every fiber in your body is frozen in place. You can’t move your feet to go and check on the source of the sound. You can barely breathe. The only thing you can do is let your eyes drift toward the barely open door. 

The several seconds of silence feel like an eternity of nothingness. You begin to debate if time is even moving at all until the shadow passing under the door makes your heart burst open in your chest.

No.

There’s someone in your home.

Someone has broken into your house.

No footsteps accompany the shadow, but it once again passes beneath your door and is followed by the sound of your bathroom door squeaking. The cold that has settled over you since stepping out of the gas station has reached a level that is nearly unbearable. It’s sharp now, creeping up your body and seizing your heart.

I’m gonna die. I’m going to be murdered in my own apartment.

There’s no way the intruder is unaware of your presence. Your bedroom light is the only light on in the house, shining out into the darkness like a beacon. You’re the most obvious target, the only target.

You slowly regain the ability to move your legs after a moment of not seeing the shadow return. Slowly, you begin backing up into the corner of your room. At least this way you can either slip under your bed or get out onto the fire escape. 

Your heart is throbbing in your chest as you feel your back press against the wall, the sound of your own blood flow echoing through your ears. 

The shadow returns, but this time it stops before your door. 

No. 

Your door gently begins to creak open, the darkness from the hallway pouring in like an infection as the intruder steps in. 

“Don’t scream.” 

Strangely, you recognize the voice that gives you the command almost instantly. It’s smooth and calming. You’ve heard it very recently. 

“Need anything else you can’t reach?” 

“Holy shit” you begin, feeling like you’re going to vomit your own heart up onto the floor. “Oh my God. Please don’t hurt me.” 

The blond man from the gas station pays no mind to your panic. Instead, he shuts your bedroom door behind him.

“Have you seen anything strange?” he wonders, looking around your room while casually adjusting the peculiar tie around his neck. “Did anyone follow you up here?” 

You narrow your eyes at him, still flattening your body against the wall. “Yeah” you answer. “You did.” 

The man shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Did anyone…odd follow you up here? Have you noticed anything out of place since you got home?” 

You think back to the temperature of your apartment when you first arrived. You exhale, watching as your breath becomes visible in the air between the two of you. The weight from the gas station still lingers atop your shoulders and seems to be increasing with every second the man is in your room. 

“I…”

You hesitate. This man is an intruder in your home. He doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt you. Surely if he wanted to, he would have already. He’s surely big enough to hurt you or abduct you easily, but for some strange reason you don’t have the urge to run from him. You actually feel more safe with him standing before you than you do alone in your own apartment. He gives off a rather strange aura. He’s harsh and cold, but you don’t doubt that he’d protect you in the drop of a hat if he needed to.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I felt weird when I got home today, like someone was here or someone was watching me.” 

He hums, but doesn’t say anything. His eyes are scanning your room with incredible intensity. 

You stay silent as the man begins to make his way around your room, even walking next to you to look out your fire escape window. 

“You didn’t see anyone following you?” he wonders. “Besides me, of course.” 

You shake your head. 

“I saw someone follow you” he informs you without hesitation. “I’m checking the rest of your apartment. Stay here.” 

Before you can stop the man to ask him questions, he vanishes out the door of your bedroom and back into the darkness of your apartment. 

You mind and heart are both moving so fast that you can’t do anything but keep yourself breathing. 

Who is this man?

Who did he see following you into your apartment?

You try to strain your mind and remember your walk home, but it had been so normal until you walked into your unusually cold apartment. You hadn’t seen anyone following you. Nothing had felt off when you were still outside. 

Maybe he’s just insane and you should climb down the fire escape.

  Maybe he actually had seen someone follow you up here and he’s really trying to protect you.

Either way, you know you’re somehow in danger. At least one person that isn’t supposed to be is in your apartment, and the problem is that you’re not sure if one of them is trying to protect you. 

You’re finally able to peel yourself away from the wall and approach your bedroom door. Your mind is positively screaming at you.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Although it’s dark, you peak outside to see a bit of movement in your living room.

  “Hey” you call out in a whisper. “Did you, you know, find anything?” 

You don’t get an answer. You can hear his feet shuffling around in your kitchen, but something about the sound of his footsteps isn’t quite right. 

He’d been wearing dress shoes. The steps in your kitchen sound like bare feet. 

You don’t get a chance to investigate further.The floor meets you before you can to much more than gasp, your entire body tearing forward until you’re slammed down onto you back. 

The back of your head hits the floor hardwood with some force. The ache shoots through you with intensity, and a dull pounding in your head is quick to settle.  Is your body being dragged?

You think your body is being dragged across the hardwood. You try to scream, struggle, but your entire body seems to have turned to liquid. You’re nothing more than a puddle on your kitchen floor. 

“Help” you mutter. “Help me.”

  You’re definitely being dragged across your house, into the pitch blackness of your kitchen. There’s a hand wrapped around your ankle. 

No.

There’s something wrapped around your ankle, but it isn’t any sort of hand you’ve ever felt. It feels moist, slimy. It pulls you forth across the hardwood floor and away into the darkness.

The pull is gone much too quickly. The thing pulling on you goes loose, and before you can catch your breath, hands are pulling you to your feet.

  The pain in your head increases by a hundred times when you’re in standing position. You want to reach for it, try to chase it away with your touch, but the man before you is holding you by your arms. 

“Hey” he begins, shaking you a bit. “Hey. I need you to listen to me.”

  There’s an aggressive ringing in your ears. You can barely hear the man’s voice. Everything sounds as if you’re trapped underwater, drowning further and further down until your rescuer is nothing but a blur in front of you.

“Listen to me” he prompts you. “I need you to go to the fire escape in your bedroom. I need you to climb out there and start heading down the steps to the street.”  The street. He needs you to go down to the street.

There’s a guttural noise that sounds from somewhere in your kitchen. The man before you nearly throws you behind him and into your bedroom, once again knocking you to the floor. He doesn’t wait to see if you’re okay. He slams the door behind you, leaving you alone on your bedroom floor. 

Every single part of you feels heavy. Your body just wants to give up. The thought of making it to your fire escape nearly makes you vomit, not to mention getting all the way down to the street. Your entire body feels like it's still burning away from where that thing grabbed hold of you. As much as you want to run, follow your savior's directions, there's something about the too-near memory of that beast that keeps you frozen in place. 

You hear loud crashing sound from your kitchen. Something glass has fallen and shattered, and a loud 'fuck' from the blond man follows suit.

  Run your body tells you, the edges of your fingers and toes beginning to prickle with something akin to electricity. Run. You haul yourself up to your feet the best you can in you dizzied state. The room seems to do a full rotation when you're finally standing. The bedroom you're so familiar with, your safe space, begins to look like your own version of Hell. 

You shake your head despite the pain. Something deep in your gut tells you the truth. 

If you don't run, you're going to die.

Your feet don't exactly run, but they do begin the trek towards your window. You can barely focus on anything with the way the room is spinning around you. The only thing you have to rely on is the muscle memory in the fibers of your body that know where your window is. 

The feeling of cold condensation brushing against your fingertips is like a baptism when you finally receive it. Your fingers stumble for the lever, shoving the glass open as hard as you can manage before taking that treacherous step outside. 

The rushing of cars and headlights below you makes your head spin even faster. The lights become nothing more than streams dancing down the street, blasting past your vision before you can even process what's creating them.

"Shit" you breathe. "Fuck." 

A nausea has rooted itself deep in your stomach. It's making your ears ring louder than they were before. Too much is hitting you all at once, too much on your skin from the cold, too much to your eyes from the lights. You can't even locate the stair hatch of the fire escape with the way your vision is constantly adjusting in and out of focus. There's no doubt in your mind that if you /were/ able to open the hatch and begin down the steps, you'd plummet to your death on the very first stair. 

The sounds of splintering wood echo from the bedroom you just abandoned. Your head turns toward it so fast that the increased dizziness takes you to your knees. 

It's clear by the streaming light and colorful shapes dashing about before you that something is happening in your room, but the throbbing in your head is too much. The only thing you can do is lean your body against the railing behind you and send a silent prayer. 

The man from the gas station is shouting something. You can't hear the words, but you can hear his gruff voice as it drowns out the liquid sound of traffic beneath you. 

It's dark now.

Did you close your eyes?

You don't remember closing your eyes. 

The man shouts something at you again. There are no words mixed into his cries. The only thing you can register is his beautiful voice, a baritone song of concern and some insane bravery. 

It's nice. At the very least, it's a nice sound to die to. 

You feel something new, something like ascension in your last moments of consciousness. 

Maybe this is what it feels like when your soul is lifted from your body. 

-

It feels strange that someone is in your dreams when you don't even know their name, but there he is. You dream the same fifteen minutes over and over again for God knows how long. You enter the gas station, the beautiful man enters behind you, hands you your snack, and then leaves you to watch him go. 

Did he die too? Or, will he have to be the one to explain to your family what happened to you in the days to come?

A sick part of you hopes that he died, too. You don't know him, but you'd like to, even if it's only in death. 

"Hey."

  You look up from the snack in your hand.

He's never said that in your dream. It's always the same, a constant replay of the small moment the two of you met. He's never gone off script. You've never gone off script. It's a vortex of the last moment your life felt anything close to safe. 

"Hey." 

The lights in the gas station are much brighter than they were before. It makes it easier to see his eyes beyond his strange glasses. They're intense, locked on you with a strange darkness you've never seen before on a man. 

Is it scary?

You're not sure, but you want to keep looking. 

The lights just keep getting brighter. They flood your vision, becoming so overwhelming that your eyes are forced to slam shut without your permission.

"Can you hear me?" 

Your voice comes up from your throat rough and scratching. No words are formed, but the sound is enough to calm the lights and allow you to glance around the room you're in.

"Hey" the man's voice begins again, softer than you recall hearing it before. "There you are."

  You still feel the burn in your throat, but with the bright lights all but gone, you're free to dart your eyes about your new surroundings. You're no longer trapped inside the gas station, staring down the man in front of you unable to thank him for trying to save him. 

You're not dead, bound for Heaven or Hell. 

No. You're in a hospital room. 

"Shit." 

The curse rips through your throat with some intensity, but before you can reach for your own throat, the blond man before you places a firm hand on your wrist. 

"Don't" he urges you. "You're hurt. You need to rest, and I wouldn't touch your face if I were you." 

His hand is terribly dry. Long fingers stay wrapped around your wrist, tight yet oddly secure. There's a strange urge in you to take his hand in yours to get a good look at it, but you refrain. You're able to settle for the comfort of having his hand on you at all. 

You give him the best smile you can muster up. "Thank you." 

His hand releases you. Though you're desperate to have it returned, you say nothing. 

"Well" he begins, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Don't thank me. I didn't do my job properly, and you got hurt much worse than you should have." 

You want to soothe him, assure him that being alive is good enough for you, but your focus is given entirely to his eyes. He's no longer wearing his glasses. His entire face is exposed to you now, and although it's cut and bruised, you can't stop staring at it. 

He reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright?" 

His lips are chapped and a bit cracked as he speaks to you. 

"Uh" -you lick your own lips, a bit of blood tasting on your tongue- "Uh, yeah. What...what happened?"

"You passed out on your fire escape" he explains to you, his voice soft and quiet as if you'll crack at the slightest provocation. "Your parents think that you slipped and fell at home, and I'm a coworker that checked up on you when you didn't show up to work." 

You groan, a sound which sends pain through your skull. "Jesus. I didn't even think about that." 

He doesn't speak right away, just keeps looking at you through hooded and heavy eyes. Bags adorn his thin cheeks. Redness has set itself deep in the corneas of his eyes. 

He leans back in his chair. "The doctor said you'll be alright, but you're going to need plenty of rest and you won't be able to leave here until tomorrow." 

You'd rather not miss another day of work, and you haven't the slightest idea of how many days you've missed already, but there's a dull and constant ache behind your eyes that reminds you why you need to follow the directions of the doctors closely. The only objection you can give is a deep and shaking sigh. 

You don't even know where to begin with this man. A million questions are burning through you, most of them sounding like pure insanity in your brain. 

Was there a real monster in my apartment?

How am I not dead?

Are monsters real?

Are you a monster?

The man before you seems to notice you drifting away. He places a gentle finger under your chin, tilting your head back up until you’re eye-to-eye. 

“If you’d like me to leave, I’ll let you rest” he tells you. 

You shake your head. “I just…I’m trying to figure out if what I think happened actually did happen. I feel like I’m going crazy.” 

The man settles his hands back onto your bed and sighs. “I know this is no consolation, and it’s much easier said than done, but I need you to try and forget what you saw. You can move on that way.” 

You don’t know why, but you laugh. 

“Forget?” you question. “You want me to try and forget that a squid monster broke into my apartment and almost killed me?” 

He loosens his tie even more despite the fact that it’s already hanging loose around his neck. “Like I said, it’ll be easier said than done.” 

You shake your head. “How many monsters are there? How am I supposed to feel safe?” 

For the first time since you met, his eyes go a bit soft, wrinkles settling in beside them and mouth turning down into a frown. 

“It’s better if you don’t know how many monsters there are” he explains. “You’ll learn how to feel safe again.” 

The pain in your head has begun to intensify, so you settle yourself back into the sheets of your hospital bed and sigh. 

“And what about you?” you wonder. “Who are you? You stalked me and saved my life all in one night and I don’t even know your name.” 

“Nanami” he tells you. “Kento Nanami.” 

You take a second to look him over after he tells you. He looks like his name suits him. As much as you want to say it, to feel the way it comes from your lips, you refrain.

“Well, Nanami” you begin. “I appreciate you saving my life. I don’t understand what happened and I don’t think I ever will, but…thank you. Genuinely.” 

He gives you a weak and exhausted smile. “It’s my job. I’m glad you’re going to be okay.” 

With that, he rises, grabbing his suit coat off the back of his chair and slinging it over his shoulder. “I left my business card in your apartment on the fridge. When you’re better, call me, and I can arrange having the broken things in your apartment replaced.” 

“You don’t have to do that” you promise. 

He shrugs his shoulders. “You won’t say that when you get home and see the state I left it in. I’m truly sorry.” 

“You saved my life.” 

“Like I said, that’s my job.” 

He walks around to the other side of your bed, turning as if to catch one more glimpse of you. “Feel free to call me for a coffee or a drink too. I’d love to explain some things to you, try and help you understand what happened to you more.” 

You smile, a bit of a heated blush rising into your cheeks. “Is that part of your job, too?”

  He smiles, the grin bigger than the one before. “Not exactly, but I can make an exception.” 

With that, he’s gone, walking from your hospital room with a wide stride that takes him from you all too quickly. 

You want to be sad that he’s gone, but the pounding in your head has become too intense to risk any sort of crying. For now, the only thing you can focus on is the knowledge that you’ll see Nanami Kento again. 

-

The dreams haven’t stopped. It’s been so long, so many nights since the worst one of your life, and yet the nightmares haven’t stopped. 

“Fuck.” 

You use cold water from the sink to rinse your face, letting the droplets run down your sweating cheeks and into your hands. Despite the fact that it’s been years since, it’s as if you can still feel that cold appendage wrapping up your leg. The pain in your head never seems to go away, and though the doctors have told you time and time again that the pain is mental, you can never seem to chase it away.

Years later, and that curse still has you its grip.

“Are you alright?” 

Your heart leaps from your ribs and into your throat, gagging you, forcing you to double over the sink in fear of vomiting. 

Kento rushes to your side, wrapping his arms around your waist for support. 

“I’m so sorry” he whispers, his voice nothing more than a breath. “I didn’t know I’d scare you like that.” 

He doesn’t press you when you don’t respond. He simply remains by your side, rubbing his hand slowly up and down your back while you catch your breath over the sink. When you’re ready, you bury your face into your hands.

  “I’m sorry” you mumble into your skin. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He runs his hand up to your shoulder, slowly massaging the tense muscles beneath your skin. 

“Don’t apologize” he urges you. “Was it the nightmares again?” 

You nod.

He sighs, gently grabbing your shoulders then so he can turn you around to face him. Normally, you’d be completely charmed by your boyfriend at four AM. It’s one of the only times you get to see him truly disheveled. His hair, normally combed to perfection is a mess atop his head. He wears no tie and no suit, just a pair of sweats and the casual glasses he keeps at home on the nightstand. 

Four AM Nanami is one of your favorite things, but after your nightmares, you can never seem to get him into focus just right.

He takes your face in his hands, letting his thumbs graze over your cheeks. “You look exhausted. What can I do to help you sleep?” 

You don’t have an answer for him. “I don’t know.” 

He places a kiss onto your forehead before speaking against your skin. “Go lie down in bed. I’m going to make you a cup of tea, and you can settle down and get some sleep.” 

You know Nanami won’t take no for an answer. Since the moment you met, he’s never let you go afraid or upset in his presence. He makes it his personal mission to try and soothe your pain every time whether that pain comes from bad dreams, or the bone-crushing attack of an enemy. 

“I love you” you tell him. “Thank you.” 

He blesses you with another kiss, this time on your lips. “Go back to bed. I’ll be in in a minute.” 

You shuffle from his arms and back down the hall, hearing the tea kettle hit the stove as you enter your bedroom. 

It should be a sacred space, one for rest and love-making and affection, but your relationship with your own bed since your curse incident has been a complicated one. You all too often wake up screaming or sobbing in a cold sweat. It took you months of dating to even allow yourself to sleep in the same room as Nanami, let alone in the same bed. You always worried that, despite being there during your incident and knowing how awful the entire episode was, he wouldn’t be able to handle your terror and would leave you for it.

You couldn’t have been more wrong. The first night you allowed yourself the bliss of falling asleep in Nanami’s bed, you woke horrified with tears streaming down your face and tremors seizing your entire body. He didn’t tease you. He didn’t make you leave. He just held you in his arms until you fell asleep, and kept holding you until morning. 

 You settle yourself back under the covers of your bed, letting the smell of Nanami that clings to your sheets ease your nerves. If there’s one thing in the night that doesn’t scare you, it’s him. 

“I hope lavender is alright.” 

You look up at Nanami, smiling at the sight. 

“It’s perfect.” 

He gives you a tired smile, setting your cup down onto your nightstand before settling into bed beside you. 

“How do you feel?”he asks as you snuggle up under his arm. 

You shrug. “Nervous.” 

He hums a bit, contenting himself with running his finger gently up and down your arm. It’s a strange little habit he has. He’s obsessed with small, gentle touches all over your body. Whether it’s sexual -tortuously slow strokes and movements of his lips to torture you into bliss- or gentle and loving to calm the horror of your soul, you savor every bit of touch he offers you.

“It’ll pass for tonight” he assures you. “What’s your doctor having you do about it?” 

You can’t help but laugh a little when he mentions your doctor. “He thinks it was a break-in and a robbery.” 

Nanami sighs into your hair, taking a deep, steady breath. You know that sometimes the sleepless nights can get to him, and even though he portrays a calm and cool man on the surface, your fear weighs on him. 

“There are people at the school that you can talk to” he suggests to you as he’s done time and time again. “We can help you.” 

You burrow yourself deeper into his embrace. “I don’t know. I’m friends with Shoko and Gojo. It would feel weird if they were like, my therapist.” 

“I’ll take you to Kyoto.”

“Kento-”

“I’ll do anything to make this easier on you.” 

Something about his words makes a subtle nausea settle in your stomach. “Kento, you know this isn’t your fault, right?” 

It’s hard to render him speechless, but in this moment, he says nothing. He just keeps stroking up and down your arm. 

“Kento?”

He stops stroking your skin then, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Like I said, I’ll take you to Kyoto if you want me to. You can go once or twice a month.” 

“And talk to a therapist that understands?” 

“And talk to a therapist you can be honest with.” 

You don’t answer him. Maybe this time, you’ll consider it, but for now, you just hold onto him for dear life. 

Neither of you speak after this. You settle into Kento’s embrace more and more as your heartbeat settles and your breathing evens out. It seems as though he’s fallen asleep, his breathing gentle and even as he loosely holds you against his chest, but you know better. He’ll be awake through the night. He’ll continue to watch over you until the morning comes, and when you wake, he’ll pretend he’s been sleeping the whole night through.

The night isn’t perfect. Your life isn’t perfect, but with Kento, the pain is bearable. With Kento, the knowledge of the monsters and curses that are truly out there is less crippling. 

With Kento, you somehow always manage to survive through four a.m.

[not-5-rats]

GUESS WHO MIGHT BE GOING TO THE TERRIBLE INFLUENCE TOUR!!!! (if we can get tickets lol-)

Now to the questions/scenarios ^^

1) Modern! AU

Whose your bugs favourite Youtuber/Streamer?

2) Your Bug is told they must kill the person that means the most to them (you choose who, please tell) or they, and two random bugs, will die

Do they kill the person? Or do they let the self and 2 random bugs die?

3) Does your bug notice when they're being flirted with? (If so how do they react?)

4) Scenariooooo :3

Your Bug and Chester had been hanging out in the garden all day, Chez taking notes of the different flowers that had bloomed and talking bout them non stop, Bug was now...kinda bored honestly and Chez just didn't seem to be picking up on it

"And these are hydrangeas, they symbolise gratitude as well as sincere feelings of understanding and appreciation"

Bug nodded along, not fully listening given how long Chez had been talking. That's when they felt something being gently folded into their hands, they looked down and saw a small bundle of hydrangeas the stems in their palms. By the time they had noticed though Chez had stood up and began to walk away, trying to hide the embarrassment sneaking onto his face

(He doesn't like admitting that he enjoys people's presence)

Bug do what?

5) How much does it take to creep your bug out? Are they easily scared?

6) Another scenariooo!!! (Slight angst??? Maybe???)

Chez's older sister Audrey had been having some troubles recently so Chez agreed to let her stay with them for a while. One day your Bug enters the living room to find Audrey and Chez sat together just talking. Chez spots Bug and waves at them, he invites them to sit down but pretty soon he realised he had to quickly do smth so Bug and Audrey were left alone

They had reasonably normal conversation fir a while but then Audrey said something thay caught Bugs attention

"I don't get why you keep that guy around, I mean he's a fucking murderer and you guys act like that isn't a problem. I only keep in contact with him because he's willing to help when it's needed and he helps with the girls...you guys have a choice. You could get rid of him, so easily, but you don't, he's a violent freak yet you guys keep him around"

She falls silent and sips at her water, then a moment later she mumbled

'...he's fucking disgusting, I know it and one day you'll know it too"

Tagssss!! -

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @itsargyle @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke

[my-mt-heart]

You said this about Leah "I hate Daryl putting in writing that he’s choosing someone who showed signs of emotional manipulation over his real family" and I can't help but think we're headed in the same direction with Isabelle. Not the romantic piece but Daryl ultimately choosing her/Laurent over his family. NR suggesting he's found a new home/family. Isabelle is as manipulative as they come and wish we didn't have to revisit a storyline similar to Leah's

Yeah that’s another reason why this idea of Daryl finding a sense of belonging with the people in France is bothering me so much. Zabel, Nicotero, and Norman to a lesser degree keep talking about it like it’s this wholesome bond allowing Daryl to grow as a character when in fact there’s so much overt evidence of emotional manipulation—Laurent needs a father, Daryl. France needs an American hero, Daryl. Family is the people you’re with. All you care about is your promise to your family back home. You’re abandoning this kid you met five minutes ago. You’re doing what your father did to you…

None of that builds the foundation for healthy relationships that viewers can root for. None of that promotes Daryl’s growth. On the contrary, it sets him back by years. It’s no different than how Merle treated him or Leah or Negan or the claimers. But the worst part is that the EPs don’t seem to be aware of any of this. They don’t acknowledge the gaslighting, not in interviews and not in the writing that I’ve seen. They don’t seem to know how to write nuanced characters and they don’t seem to know who Daryl’s fans are, or specifically, what so many of them have faced in their own lives that makes Daryl being “torn” between Carol/TF and the French characters such an impossible pill to swallow.

We know that Daryl will ultimately choose to go back home with Carol, but the how and the why make all the difference. I guess we’ll have to see how these tone deaf EPs handle it. Norman has also been talking about Daryl’s tendency to put other people’s needs before his own. I think he should concentrate on that—on Daryl’s hero complex—and emphasize how much Carol and TF mean to him. For some reason, that’s constantly being left out of the conversation or reduced to buzz words, which is weird because Caryl is the relationship we’re actually invested in 🤷🏻‍♀️

[moodr1ng]

repeating it periodically: the majority (though not all!!) of mutual aid fundraisers spread via massively copypasted asks to random users i have seen have been scams, and theyre usually easy to spot if you take a minute to check.

(edit: i forgot to say this specifically, but palestinians are one of the few exceptions where most of the fundraisers being spread through asks ive seen are legit and not scams. however, there still are scammers pretending to be palestinians in need. palestinian bloggers have asked that we share fundraisers vetted by palestinians, which the legit asks usually are.)

signs to look out for:

- the blog is very recent, usually a couple days old (presumably, the scammers need to keep creating new blogs each time one loses momentum from being recognized as fake), and there are no indication that this is because the user just remade or lost their previous account.

- the blog has been filled with one, two, or maybe a small handful of pages' worth of reblogs. the reblogs are all directly from the source and are either of popular posts or posts all on the same subject - the scammer is filling up the blog with innocuous-looking posts so it won't look brand new at a glance, either by reblogging whatever is on the trending page, or reblogging from a couple of tags (usually fandom tags).

- the blog either has no bio, or has a very short, sterile, impersonal bio: a name, an age, maybe some slogan like 'blm', but no other indications of a personality or identity present.

- there are no personal posts whatsoever on the blog, aside from the post promoting the fundraiser.

- information about the fundraising is vague and non-committal: the reason given for needing funds lacks any details (or the details make no sense), no updates are ever posted regarding the situation, and/or the amount needed is never specified.

- the photos used as the blogs avatar or as "proof" in the fundraising post are stolen from somewhere else. this one is blatant, but back-searching a stolen image unfortunately doesnt always work and you may not find the source that way.

- you were sent an ask about this fundraiser despite being a small account with no particular reach: why is this person sending hundreds and hundreds of the same copypasted ask to random small blogs rather than going for popular blogs or relying on their mutuals and followers?

- the fundraising is being done through paypal and the name of the paypal is completely different from the one used on the blog (while many people on tumblr dont use their legal name online, you may still notice stranger discrepancies, like the fundraising blog giving a last name which isnt the last name on the paypal account, or the scammer claiming to be a person of color and using a clearly non-white name on their blog while having a very white name on paypal) - and if you look up the paypal name on tumblr, you find post after post warning people about this being the account of a repeat scammer.

while some of these alone may not mean someone is scamming, if most of these are there... its a scam. just looking up the persons url on tumblr is a quick way to find out if this person is being called out for scamming all over the place, as well.

if youre tempted to assume a fundraiser is probably real without checking because the story being told is so serious and no one would be fucked up enough to make up such a heartless scam, please know i once had to contact a father on facebook to tell him someone had stolen a picture of his toddler currently suffering with a life-threatening illness lying in a hospital bed, switched out the little girls name while copypasting her actual story, and had started a gofundme to make money off her and spread it on tumblr, while the real parents were themselves trying to raise money to keep their child from dying. there is no degree of depravity that these scammers will not stoop down to. just take a minute to check.

[soaps-mohawk]

So sometimes when I’m bored or zoning out I like to imagine different headcannons/ fanfic of my fav fanfics including CRCB (is that the correct acronym? Idk 😂)

Anyways my most recent one is for some reason angsty and violent…

It starts with all the guys going to train or smthn like that, leaving omega comfy back in her room. However, on their way back from training they smell blood, and strong. So they panic but Price’s training kicks in and he gets them into formation, ready to jump into action, guns drawn. They find the walls painted with blood and immediately assume the worst only to find a body on the floor, but it’s not omega’s. As they walk in some more they find more bodies and a shaking omega standing over the barely breathing body of some unknown soldier, with the one knife Simon gave her, bloody and clutched in her white knuckled grip.

They go over to check on her but she’s in such a state of panic that she lashes out and tries to defend herself against them. Eventually they get her to relax enough to let them check her and clean up the room, but they can’t pry the knife away from her hand. (They keep the living guy for some... torture intense questioning)

Turns out these guys came and tried to take her and her instincts kicked in as well as her training with Simon and she just went full animal on them.

Cue pack lovingly cleaning her up all while she stares at her shaking hands cause oh gosh she just killed people. Price tilting her head up away from her hands and softly wiping the blood off her face. And she finally feels a little safer with her alpha and pack.

Anyways! I love the fic soooo much and day dream about it all the time and thought I’d share the more eventful daydream. ❤️

Yeah, yeah that's the right acronym 😂 I forget sometimes and have to double check. You'd think it would be muscle memory atp but then again I have like no memory right now...

Anyway, damn. That's...that's brutal anon 😳

As upset that they would be about the whole situation, deep down they'd be lowkey impressed. Babygirl out here taking out full grown men on her own???

No but they'd be pissseeddddd that someone even tried something like that. RIP whoever was stupid enough to do that. You won't be missed.