#dont overthink

[kisstheghostt]

[subtlesolitude-tailoredtaste]

📌🧿📿

[shuaaflower]

I‘m a burden for everyone. I’m even a burden to myself.

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 6

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5]

[pmpwbrrs]

Gourmand why are you like this. How can you make living things out of the blue fruit you ate 3 minutes ago. How do you make a living breathing fucking snail? You can't even eat it, and yet you can spit it out, how the hell does that work? Put that thing back!!! Why is it alive??

And how can you make a goddamn neuron from an overseer and. What was this.... Hold on

AND KARMA FLOWER. And how can you make an overseer from neuron+ANYTHING!!!!! FROM ANYTHING!!!!!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!!

[maverices]

Do you think Mav thought of Ice when he and Bradley marched through the snow-covered forest after being shot down? Do you think he thought of Ice as he felt the cold seep into his bones and the snow kiss his hair and the wind flush his face? Do you think he found the F-14, fully fueled and in near perfect condition, and thought of all the times Ice had gotten him out of a tight spot and back into the air? Do you think he flew the F-14 out to the open sea, hoping against hope there would be a familiar voice over comms, a second shadow on the glistening, deadly waves beneath him? Do you think he stood on deck of the aircraft carrier amidst a chaos of triumph and relief, and couldn't help but look for one particular face in the crowd?

[lady-z-writes]

Distraction

Billy Butcher x reader

In which Butcher returns in a rage and needs you to take his mind off it.

Cw: smut (18+), masturbation, fingering, sex, oral, hair pulling, choking.

You hadn't planned on staying so late, but you'd gotten caught up in a podcast, enjoyed the silence of the empty space between the words.

A loud slam startles you. You're instantly on high alert, popping an ear bud out, holding your breath, realizing - damn it - it's 6pm already. The setting sun peeking through the window blinding you momentarily as you rise, you hear more slamming.

As you glance toward the door, there's the familiar cussing of Butcher. You can't help but heave a relieved breath. At least it wasn't a supe.

It's stupid of you, really, but you approach. Tentative. Anxious.

You say nothing when he meets eyes with you.

"What're you still doin' 'ere? It's late." His voice is almost a growl.

"I know. Wasn't paying attention."

He shoots you a look. "See? That's a problem, luv. You're distracted." He seems to get more angry as he thinks about it.

Before he can say anything else, his phone is going off and he glances down to read a message.

Rage overtakes him again. You think he's going to toss his phone at the wall, but he pockets it and slams a file folder on the desk beside him.

He runs his hands down his face.

You step closer, wanting to fix it; you're always wanting to fix it.

"This ain't somethin' you can fix, dutches," he mutters quietly, instantly reading you.

"Let me try."

He's about to say something, but instead he shakes his head, his boots sounding as he closes the distance between you.

And then he's kissing you so suddenly, you can't help but gasp. Moments - mere moments and you're catching up, kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoists you in his arms.

The kissing turns into you pawing at each other on the couch, to you grinding against his thigh only to feel his phone there, the thing vibrating with a text again and you startling. Butcher lets out a, "don't go givin' me ideas" when he hears you moan.

And before you know it, you're on your knees before his widespread legs, his cock out, his big hand stroking it. He makes you beg before he lets you put your mouth on him.

"Mmm, 'at's a good girl, takin' all of me."

Fingers wrap in your hair, he pulls any time you deepthroat him. You're wet from this, soaking your panties - hoping he'll treat you to some part of him after this; his hands, his mouth, his fingers - you'd thank him for any.

The anger sheds from him; turns into need. You do a good job of distracting him from whatever it was.

Butcher isn't loud, but he lets you know what he likes. He's grabby; touching you anywhere he can. And he's chatty - the filthy things coming from his mouth make you heated.

One hand pumping his cock as you suck him off, your other hand trails between your legs. You're clothed so it's not providing any real relief on your clit, but it feels good.

When Butcher sees, he's taunting you. "Ohh such a sneaky thing you are. Those dainty fingers ain't got half the tricks I do. You thinkin' about them? Thinking of my meaty fucking hand cupped around your pretty fucking cunt?"

Another deep throat. He yanks your hair as you stroke his balls.

You linger there, down on his cock, tongue pressing against the underside of him, his vein pulsing, your hand gentle on his balls. As you come up for one more go, he's forcing you back down and you're almost choking. He cums without warning and you do your best to swallow him down.

Moments pass. He's got you sprawled across the desk in seconds.

When he undresses you, you're arching toward him, eager to kiss him again, but he's biting his way down your body, marking up your thighs in his travel to your center.

He's pocketed your panties. He would.

You're about to comment when his mouth finds your clit and he's sucking. You cry out, surprised when a finger plays with your wetness, slips inside of you, arches just right. You're saying his name like a hymn and he hasn't done anything yet, not really.

You want to ask for more, but he's way ahead of you: inserting another finger, working up the speed. You're blissed out already. He matches the pace with his mouth.

The groans he lets out shoot vibrations right through you and you're embarrassed at how fast you cum for him.

He keeps up pace, doesn't falter a second.

When you hear a, "fuuuuck you're fun," you're tempted to offer all of you to him - but he's way ahead of you.

You hear his pants hit the floor, feel his mouth leaving you.

"What say you, we have a bit of a go then?"

You pant out a, "please" and he's slipping his fingers out of you.

You pull him close before he's expecting it, kiss him harshly. Billy tries to push you back down, but you put up a fight, shoving his arms away so you can keep kissing him.

He lets out a growl when you bite his neck in the scuffle.

Of course, he ultimately wins and pins you against the desk. He wastes no time angling your hips and lining himself up with your entrance. A few strokes of his cock against your wetness and he's pushing inside of you.

He pauses until you're comfortable but that's the only kindness he gives you. His pace is unrelenting; you can feel his desperation. It doesn't stop his fingers from pressing against your clit and making you cum again.

"'At's right, cum on my cock, love. So good how you squeeze me."

He chokes you and you realize you like it. The feel of his big hand on your throat, holding you in a way that's between care and desperation. He knows what he's doing - knows just when to let go; like he's testing you.

You have no control. He's completely consuming you. It's freeing, almost.

Another orgasm later and you're pretty sure you're seeing stars. When he demands another, you tell him you can't; you've never.

"You will," he growls.

And he's right.

You cum again. He's so overwhelmed by the feel of you, he almost spills inside. A drop of cum plops on the floor before he's stroking himself over you, painting your belly with his cum.

It's filthy and arousing all at once.

You want more of him.

And he can read it all over your face.

"Ah, such a pretty fuckin sight you are; all painted up for me. Fucking gorgeous."

You almost assume he'll leave you like this, but as you lie there catching your breath, you feel a cloth wiping softly against your skin.

Hm. Billy and aftercare. Who knew?

"Come home with me, love?" It's quiet, the deep rumble of his voice.

And you're so damn eager to say yes but you catch your breath, nod up at him, feel the intimacy of this moment; feel raw and real for once in your time knowing Butcher.

You manage out, "Anything for you" and watch the emotion dance across his face.

[ruporas]

invisible scars (referenced previous talk here)

[ID: A colourless, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood talking about Wolfwood's scars. They're both laying in bed and topless. Vash lays on top of Wolfwood, playing with the rosary around his neck. Then, Vash kisses a spot on Wolfwood's chest. Wolfwood asks, "What are you doing?" Vash smiles sadly, "You got shot here. In the last town we visited. You didn't even bother moving."

Vash props himself up over Wolfwood, who frowns slightly. Wolfwood is quiet for a moment before he says, "You remember that, huh?" Vash grabs Wolfwood's left wrist and brings it to his face. "And here." He kisses another spot there. "When you helped free the hostages from that robber..." Wolfwood dismissively says, looking away, "Was a lucky shot." Vash huffs, “Don’t brag. Jeez.”

Half of Wolfwood's expression is shown, eyes returning to Vash who is now sitting up, continuing to say, "And..." Vash goes on and kiss Wolfwood's right palm. "You got cut here, even though that girl was aiming at me." A moment from the past flashes, of Wolfwood grabbing a knife aimed at Vash, his hand bleeding.

At present, Vash moves down and puts another kiss on Wolfwood's right shoulder. "And here, from watching my back." Another memory flashes of Wolfwood and Vash back to back. Vash looks back as Wolfwood grins while holding Punisher, bleeding from multiple gunshots in his shoulder.

"And," Vash combs up Wolfwood's hair to reveal his forehead, "Here." A final memory shows Wolfwood with a regeneration vial in his mouth while getting shot on his temple. The next panel is framed in blood with Vash at the center, eyes wide and stunned in horror. The next panel is a closed up shot of Wolfwood's eye, locked on Vash's face.

Back to present, Vash’s head is bowed down as Wolfwood raises a hand to his nape and says, “Spikey.”

Wolfwood looks serious and frowns as he says, "We talked about this. Those were my decisions. They're not there anymore. Forget about them." Vash looks very sad before he smiles ruefully and says, "I still see them. All the time." He leans down so they touch foreheads. Wolfwood’s sorrowful expression can be seen as Vash says, "You protect so much. I could never forget what you've done to me. And many others..."

In the last image, they're drawn more cartoonishly. Wolfwood sweats and asks, "You don't actually remember every wound, right?" Vash points at a spot on his chest. "Kuroneko left a scratch here 7 times." Wolfwood, startled, says, "Why the hell are you keeping count—" End ID]

Credits for ID here and here

[084392]

ok ok WHAT are pokemon that you know would scare the ever loving shit out of you if you just stumbled on them in the wild as someone in the pokemon world?(can include legendaries, mythicals, UBs, paradox pokemon, and just rare pokemon in general btw)(or just specific not rare ones too)(also im sorry but do not give me that "none i would hug and love all of them!!" crap istg)(or try and tell me that you wouldnt be scared bc you're "not a pussy" or something -_-)

[killapunchaw]

I have brainrotting with the batfam for years now... finally i draw him

[actualfkingvoid]

traced the mv

[hellishgayliath]

@heckitall HECKY I DID YOUR DTYIS!!! :DDD IM YOUR CO DIRECTOR FOR THIS COMIC HOW COULD I NOT DRAW OUR BOYS AT SOME POINT :D

Also people should go read Heck's comic Same as it Never Will Be, it is amazing and Heck is a really great story teller and artist :3 <3

[dipplinduo]

[biolumien]

Saw some of your Hoshina Fics and it was stellar! Absolutely fucking amazing. You don’t know how damn happy I am to see Kaiju No.8 on my page. Your writing is phenomenal.

With that in mind, would it be possible to get another Hoshina request in? Preferably a Hurt/Comfort scenario. Maybe they’d have argued or something and they’re forced to actually confront each other’s insecurities. Because we like flawed adults going through their issues ✨together✨

If you’d like a more solidified vibe, try listening to Unsweetened Lemonade by Amélie Farren. It might give you some ideas!

I hope you have a wonderful day ahead of you!! :DD

notes: thank you so much for ur kind words ;-;; wahh... i love angst,... and functional relationships.... which is why i always write relationships on the verge of collapse... also thank you for the song rec!

hemming and hawing

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader theres a bit of drinking, but nothing extreme. word count: 1834

hoshina isn’t really good at communicating. for being the vice captain of a squadron of elite soldiers, where communication was often the difference between life and death–he’s really fucking bad at communication–or at least, the kind that requires you to be personal with other people.

he’s been ignoring you for days.

you’re not even sure why, at this point. you’d thought whatever relationship you were kindling was going fine, right? you weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you liked each other plenty, right? right? 

right?

so why was hoshina ignoring you? why did he sit so far away, make constant excuses to get up and leave? what the fuck was wrong with him? every time you’d grabbed him to talk–oftentimes having to physically hold him by the arm, because he’d often keep trying to walk away from you–he’d respond with one-word answers, not quite looking at you. you’d sit at your desk, so restless that your leg would bang against the underside of the table just wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. 

were his feelings a fluke?

hell, were yours?

what the fuck had you done wrong?

had you done something wrong? had you overstepped a boundary somewhere? but then again, how could you have? how could you have overstepped a boundary if he never made clear what his boundaries were? were you insane? what the fuck were you doing? or maybe the better question to ask is was soshiro hoshina worth this amount of hemming and hawing? was it worth it to lose your mind over his stupid face, when you saw him laugh at something okonogi said, or exchange quips with ashiro? was it worth it, when you knew he used to make the same faces towards you, used to look at you with something like measured affection behind his eyes–

you slam your head so hard against your desk that you can feel it starting to bruise.

no. no matter what, you were losing your mind over soshiro hoshina, damn him! damn him!

it keeps going on like this for a couple days–you try to talk to hoshina, he shrugs you off faster than any competent sentence you could possibly string together can form, and he leaves. the rest of the third division seems to notice, too–you’ve noticed twice in a row okonogi giving you a worried look. it wasn’t a hidden secret or anything that you and hoshina got along quite well, so if even okonogi was giving you a weird look…

you’d shrug, simply, give her a smile, and ignore the raging tire fire burning under your skin.

the next time you get a moment with hoshina is during a celebration party following a successful mission. you pour yourself a healthy glass of the strongest alcohol you can manage, and chug down the entire thing in one gulp, wiping your mouth inelegantly with your sleeve. and then out of the corner of your eye–

hoshina’s watching you with a half-interested look–a look more interested and engaged with you than any other time in the past few weeks–and you think the sight of that makes you angrier–so unbelievably angry, paired with new fire from alcohol underneath. 

you turn to grab hoshina by the collar, glaring up at him–

“hey, now,” hoshina says with a light laugh. “had a little too much to drink, darling?”

darling.

oh, this fucking jackass–you think you almost see red, your teeth grinding together, and you can almost feel your lips peeling back in the facsimile of a snarl. 

“you don’t get to call me that,” you whisper, voice shaking with anger, “not after you’ve fucking blown me off for weeks, soshiro.”

hoshina’s crimson eyes open a little more, staring down at you, right where your hand tightens against his shirt. you’re lucky that the hubbub of the party is keeping everyone from staring at you, which you’re furtively grateful for. you think, that maybe you see hurt reflected in his eyes, but that’s fucking ridiculous. why does he deserve to hurt? he’s the one who fucking blew you off, who didn’t talk to you for weeks despite the two of you clearly reciprocating feelings. what did he have to hurt over? 

“i’m sorry,” hoshina mutters, and he leans forward–

“don’t fucking TOUCH me!”

your voice is louder than you’d like, and that gets a couple eyes on you.

your face feels red, and you drop hoshina’s shirt. hoshina’s eyes are still watching you, his gaze unreadable for a moment before he turns to the eyes watching you, a warm smile–a clear facade, loud and clear to you, but imperceptible to most others. you know hoshina, now–you’d watched him, studied him with intensity. he couldn’t hide from you, even if he wanted to. which made the fact he’d spent weeks ignoring you more infuriating–which made this current facade, a pretending thing–so much more infuriating.

“sorry, everyone,” hoshina says. “seems like our lovely engineer here might’ve had a little too much to drink. come on, i’ll walk you back.” he looks back down at you.

his eyes have that same strange hurt still reflected in his eyes.

something about it tears your heart across unevenly. 

“okay,” you say stupidly, and you let hoshina handle your body, swing your arm over his shoulder as he pulls you up. 

the walk back sobers you up just enough–enough to realize that you’re absolutely fucking mortified–did you seriously grab him? but the better question was why didn’t he stop you? why had he just let you yell at him? why had he looked at you like that, with hurt and something like pity in his eyes? and you couldn’t even figure out what you were more mad at–

could he have done it because he thought he deserved it? 

hoshina opens up the door to your dormitory, letting you make your way to your bed. you slumped down, pressing your back against where your bed met the wall. 

“i’ll leave you alone,” hoshina murmurs. “get some rest.”

you’re angry again, upon hearing him say that. how could a guy like him push your buttons so easily? 

“so you’re just going to leave again?” you snap. “how the fuck is that fair? that’s all you’ve been fucking doing, leaving me even though all i want is to talk.  i thought you liked me!”

you hate how your voice cracks at the end, and you raise up your legs to hug them to your chest. “i thought you fucking liked me,” you whisper. “and you won’t let me talk to you, won’t let me get close–what the fuck was the point of saying you loved me if this is what you’re going to do? it’d be so much less cruel to break my heat, just say no…”

hoshina’s silent.

way too silent.

“i’m sorry,” hoshina says, and he leans down, drops on the bed next to you–the bed sags beneath his weight, and he raises a hand to touch where your hand hugs your knees to your chest–but you move away. you hate the way you almost relish in the way he seems hurt, but he places his hand between the two of you, a mediating bridge. “you can hit me, if you want.”

“what?”

you stare at him, your gaze incredulous. 

hoshina’s gaze is painfully soft, mixed with that strange pity. as if he deserves this.

“i’d deserve it,” hoshina murmurs. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m not going to hit you!” you say. “what would the point of that be? to prove yourself that you don’t deserve love? to prove to yourself you weren’t good enough? even though this is all your fault–”

hoshina’s gaze flickers at your words.

“that’s it, isn’t it? all part of your weird complex where you deny yourself things that you want!” you lean forward, reaching out to grasp him by the shirt. “so i was just fucking collateral damage to you?” you tumble for a moment, pushing him flat onto his back. he looks up at you, his lips parted for a moment. you feel your grip shaking for a moment, and your vision grows blurry– your eyes burn with tears as you shake. “i told you i knew what i wanted, you fucking idiot! i wanted you! i still want you!”

through blurred vision, you can see your tears dripping onto hoshina’s face–and hoshina just watches.

“i don’t care if you don’t think you’re not good enough,” you say through a choked sob. “you’ve always been more than good enough to me. do you get that? no, actually. you didn’t–because if you did you would have just talked to me like a normal fucking person!” you laugh desperately, crazily, almost–you feel fucking crazed. “and i’ve been driving myself mad! because of you!”

hoshina raises a hand to touch your cheek.

“take some fucking responsibility,” you rasp, tugging at his shirt. “take some responsibility for this! for what you’ve done to me!”

what a horrible thing love was.

your heart feels like it’s on fire, burned and scorched earth.

“i’m sorry,” hoshina repeats, simply. “you’re right.”

he leans up to press his forehead against yours, and you tremble.

“i was scared,” hoshina whispers. “that the things i’d said to kafka and the others–that you’d never know when you’d lose the people you love–that it’d come true. i was determined to shut myself out–make myself unknown again. i couldn’t–cross the boundary. to let myself have love. or anything like it. not from you.”

he sighs, gently nudging you to let him up. he leans close to you, presses his head against the wall to watch you. his gaze–this exact gaze, you’ve missed it. missed the way he watched you, with brimming fondness–and yet here you can see so clearly that there’s desperate pain in his eyes–bubbling and brimming just underneath the surface.

“i was struck by how much i wanted it. love. you. all of this. and i was scared because it could all just disappear so quickly,” hoshina continues. his hand touches your face, and you let that calloused touch, the familiar touch against your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose, your upper lip. “i didn’t–want to lose it. so i figured i could’ve just been happy with a little.”

“you fucking idiot,” you whisper in venomous response.

“yeah.” hoshina doesn’t deny it.

“i’ll give it to you,” you respond. “love. no matter how much you think you don’t deserve it. you don’t even have to ask.”

when hoshina looks at you again, he seems almost fractured at the possibility of it.

“i know,” he murmurs. 

“i love you,” you say, and your voice trembles for a moment. “you fucking awful piece of shit.”

hoshina laughs weakly.

“i deserve that,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i promise i do.”

you shake your head. 

“i know that,” you say. you reach out a hand to touch his face, and you can feel the smile forming on his face.

“okay,” he murmurs. “okay.”

[incominghazelgoose]

i need november 2nd to happen immediately but also how is august already almost over

[wolfythewitch]

I don't know who Ford is (presumably not Ford Prefect, but what the hell you can queer headcanon the whole hhg2g cast if you want, I'm not a cop) but is he the type who wouldn't feel the need for top surgery due to being so flat chested, but get the scars tattooed on anyway?

As a character? I think he'd do anything to pass so tattoos would be too eye-catching