#he's the personification of feeling safe

[odetodilfs]

People who call Tenoch Huerta ugly NEED TO BE FUCKING FOR REAL!!

[inke-ri]

So I couldn't help but browse the THG tag bc those books own my whole heart. I actually check it now and again, and it's been interesting see how opinions have changed over the years, especially in regards to Gale and Peeta. Going through the evolution of them as just potential love interests to being far more complex than I could have expected has been a wild ride. Crazy how this reads different than from when I was a preteen.

That said, I wanted to give my unsolicited two cents on my boys, because though I have been enjoying the discussion on Peeta and Gale and what they mean to the story, I also feel like reducing them to Peeta = peace and Gale = war is far too simplistic... and oftentimes unfair to one or both of them.

See, I don't think Peeta and Gale are peace and war/destruction. They're compassion and indignation.

Peeta worries about the other tributes, or their families, or how to repay people like Rue and Thresh for what they did.

Gale is indignation at how the Capitol treats its citizens, it's anger at the injustice of inequality and brutality.

Both are needed in a story like THG. You can't have people like even Peeta not say something like "maybe we're wrong about keeping things quiet in the districts", you can't have him not drop the baby bomb, you can't start a revolution without Gale's indignation at the status quo. At deserving a better life but being denied it, at having your kids be mercilessly killed for literal sport.

However, if you start a rebellion and loose sight of your compassion, you end up no better than the people you're fighting against. Gale wasn't a bad person, imo. His heart was in the right place. He was flawed, yes, but so is everyone in this series. Gale, most importantly, lost sight of the line between fighting for the people he cared about and fighting against the people who hurt him.

Reducing Gale's indignation to just revenge and hatred ignores so much of what he stands for. Who hasn't seen laws passed that dehumanize people, who hasn't been angry and furious when someone is elected who fundamentally hates everything you are, who doesn't think some people need to pay for the atrocities they committed? There's a little bit of Gale in every single one of us - and it's important that it's there, because that's what gives us strength to challenge the status quo and make life better for the future generations.

But. You can't let it take over. You can't loose sight of your compassion or your empathy.

That's where Peeta comes in. Peeta is the voice in your head that worries about how many good lives will be lost when they give themselves up for this cause. Peeta is the worry about the people caught in the crossfire. Peeta is rebuilding when it's over and believing that the next generation will have a better life than your own. Peeta is being kind, even to people who may not deserve it.

And Gale... Gale looses sight of his compassion, and he doesn't realize it until it smacks him in the face when the bombs go off and Prim is gone and he's too far gone. Meanwhile, Peeta advocates for the end of the war even though it means the status quo remains - and regardless of what he believes himself, I don't think Suzanne chose him to say those lines by chance. It means both mindsets have their flaws: too kind and things that shouldn't remain will never be challenged and changed, too angry and you may loose sight of what you're fighting for.

And that's just how Suzanne uses her characters, both of them, all of them. Just look at who is with Katniss depending on the situation:

- Katniss chooses to "rebel" after Gale is brutally whipped. She kisses him.

- Katniss realizes that in order for D12 to rebel, everyone would need to be in on it, and she realizes most of them are not like her, that they're scared and she understands, emphasises with them. Peeta walks by her side.

- Katniss finally does it though, shoots the arrow at the force field, and Peeta is taken from her, it's now Gale by her side.

(You can't start a rebellion without indignation, and sometimes you HAVE to do it or things will never change, regardless of the inevitable pain that will come along.)

- Katniss is righteously angry at the Capitol bombing a hospital full of innocents to make a point. Gale remains there.

- Coin twists people's compassion into an army to fight for her own personal gain. Peeta is hijacked and looses his sense of self.

- Katniss and Gale go to District 2 and even though she tries to be like Peeta, she's still shot- reinforcing Gale's views, the person who was with her during that sequence.

- Katniss is angry at Snow, Katniss goes to the Capitol to kill him. Gale is there.

- Katniss gets in way over her head and realizes she is responsible for the death of most of her squad. She shares the lamb stew with Peeta, and later cleans his wounds.

- Finnick dies and she's at her lowest up until that point and all she wants to do is give up and give in to the anger. She kisses Peeta and begs him to stay with her.

... Claiming that Gale is destruction ignores the fact that he's with Katniss through her own moments of strength. Her desire to change things, to fight back, is as important as her compassion. Mockingjay just brutally shows you what war does to your indignation, to your compassion. How easy it is to cross a line between righteous anger and revenge, or how your sense of empathy and compassion can be manipulated into something monstrous by others, or by all the terrible, brutal, painful things you see.

How easy it is to loose yourself- and that goes for both of them.

Peeta and Gale aren't static characters, they go from representations of sentiments regarding an injust government to what happens to those feelings when an extreme situation such as war breaks out. All of that, by the way, while dealing with this duality themselves, because they are still characters who think and feel and struggle and have flaws of their own- and while I love what they stand for, I've seen too many comments that pin everything into what they mean, that they forget that Peeta and Gale are still people, they aren't perfect metaphors. They're human.

Ultimately, Katniss doesn't really choose peace. She wants peace, yes. But what she chooses is compassion. empathy. hope. There's a time and place for anger at injustice. There's a time when fighting back is the right thing to do. There are even times when you wanna give in to your despair and lash out. But if you want peace, then you have to choose Peeta, because Peeta represents what you need to focus on to achieve that peace. You have to let go of the anger or you won't ever rest. So Gale leaves, and does not come back... And yet, Katniss still has her moments of indignation, of making a stand, even as he goes - she still casts her vote at that meeting, she still shoots Coin. Katniss does not abandon that part of who she is. It's just not her main drive anymore.

So then she goes on to make the choice, every single day, to be compassionate to others. To have hope. To rebuild. Of course she chooses Peeta.

... Idk, man. These boys are so much more than what I see them so often reduced to. They're in all of us. There will be times to stand and fight, and times to show mercy and be kind. We just need to find that balance, as Katniss eventually did.

[pastelaspirations]

WAIT, WAIT, OKAY, NO, W A I T. HOLD ON. I'M FREAKING OUT. I WAS LITERALLY OUT CELEBRATING YESTERDAY, 'CUS OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE DAY. AND THEN, I CHECK HERE AND I- I'M NOT OKAY, MAN

MIRAGE, YOU CAN'T- YOU CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS TO ME-

O k a y, I... I apologize in advance for the long reblog. I'll try to make it short, I promise.

FIRST, I CAN'T FREAKING- I CAN'T HANDLE IT, IT'S SO WONDERFUL, MAN. I have actually wondered how these two would interact together. AND I THINK YOU DEPICTED IT PERFECTLY, MAN, IT'S JUST HOW I IMAGINED-

Ætherverse!Error is just. So angry. So done, so fed up with everything and all the idiots of the world, all the time. And Perseverance!Error just... does not care. My man's in a perpetual state of "I've got way bigger things to worry about" and "It'll actually be way more fun for me personally to mess with you than to be genuinely angry."

Therefore, when these two meet, it's just... Ætherverse!Error like, "Ew, who is this stupid, hooligan looking homeless person? With a... crow??? And he's got a gun???? No, absolutely not, I don't trust this guy for a second, he's probably looking for my money. W a i t, what if he works for Nightmare, no, wait, w a i t, I gotta make it seem like I don't suspect him. Okay, just- Keep acting nonchalant so he'll go away and THEN, I can strike with backup and a plan, and he'll stand no chance-" Meanwhile, Perseverance!Error is just... giving him this weird look because literally the only thing running in his mind is, "Why's this shorty, pompous bastard so mad-"

A l s o. I'm not done with Ætherverse yet, I'm on chapter 74. BUT WHAT IF, WHAT IF, OKAY, HEAR ME OUT.

What if these two, somehow, through multiverse shenanigans, m e t. During this time frame.

H e h e h e, and if they met, Ætherverse!Error would eventually discover Perseverance!Error is an ex-bounty hunter and will use it to his advantage. >:)

Ætherverse!Error, thoughtful and calculating look on his face: W a i t, so you're a... bounty hunter...? Perseverance!Error, confused why he's not freaking yelling at him anymore, but answers anyway with a smug look: Ex-bounty hunter. And unfortunately for you, I'm retired. Ætherverse!Error, mind going through all the mental calculations in his head: Can you take down a really persistent mafia boss? Perseverance!Error, a bit flustered and really confused at this point: Uh- Yeah, sure, if that's who you wanted, but like I said, I'm retired, I'm not working anymor- Ætherverse!Error, clasping his hands in front of his face: Can you take down a really persistent mafia boss and rescue hostages? Perseverance!Error, just staring at him for a long time, completely dumbfounded, before muttering: Y e a h, but that would jack up the price to high heaven- Ætherverse!Error: I'll give you 35,000 G. Perseverance!Error, mouth still hanging open from being interrupted midsentence. It takes a few tries before he's able to choke out: Wait, how much- Cue the heist to save Sans and Frisk in chapter 74 by the random ass bounty hunter, his dog, murder of crows, and his very reluctant, weirdly dressed "Royal Guard" friend that Ætherverse!Error hired to deal with his problem. XD I haven't read the chapter, so I don't know if they would do well or not. But considering the sus foreshadowing of Sans being a monster beyond multiverse comprehension, I'm guessing they are going to bite off more than they can chew.

BUT I'M SORRY, THIS DRAWING JUST. GAVE ME SUCH IDEAS THAT I TYPED OUT EVEN THOUGH NO ONE ASKED.

two different Errors from the fanfictions I read :D Error on the left from the fanfic: Ætherverse, by: @mspandorasart Error on the right from fanfic: Perseverance, by: @pastelaspirations

[hirayalore]

this is absolutely nerve-wracking. you don’t even know why you agreed to be on this side of the team in the first place, knowing that you would be better in the field (being an aspiring auror and a good one at that), and is quite perhaps the human personification of the word ‘impatience’ when it came to situations like these.

though yet again, it was GEORGE WEASLEY who made you promise that you weren’t going to volunteer to be a potter duplicate for the said chosen one’s safe travel to the burrow—the place you’re already in at the moment as he reckoned that it was enough that he had to worry about his father and brothers being with him for the task; he didn’t want to be preoccupied thinking about whether his girlfriend was managing herself well too.

“i’ll be careful,” george promised you before the both of you parted earlier, a kiss planted on your forehead, “i’ll meet you at the burrow, safe and sound, alright?”

you only nodded, not knowing what to do or say. you wanted to stop him from leaving, to convince him that it was too dangerous. however, you also knew that it was selfish of you to do so, considering that what he was going to do was not only for the betterment of harry potter himself, but possibly the whole wizarding world.

a loud sound of crashing coming from the front yard pushes you out of your trance and you stand up from your seat to run outside, quickly followed by ginny who has been quiet and pacing around the house in anxiety before she heard the crash too.

it’s hagrid and harry—the real harry you presume as ginny launches towards him so that they could embrace. you let out a breath, relieved that he’s here unharmed, but admittedly not relieved enough as there is  still no sign of george.

though as if on cue, two men suddenly appear on the right side of the lawn via apparition and you recognize them to be remus and george immediately, with the latter being supported by the former.

it dawns on you that george is injured, your eyes focusing on the side of his head that is bleeding.

“i’m good, i’m all good,” are the first words he utters to you once you’re close, grabbing his other arm so you and remus can carry him to the burrow together.

you can’t bring yourself to reply. your heart is thumping so hard inside your chest that you feel like you’re going to shut down any second now. the only thing that’s keeping you from going into full panic mode is how he at least has the strength to stay conscious and talk to you still as he’s being led to the sofa, a fact that convinces your brain that he’s nowhere near danger now.

once he’s laid there, remus approaches harry to check on him while you take the liberty to rush to get some medical supplies that could help george’s condition.

molly then tends to him, brushing his hair and whispering thanks that he didn’t arrive in a worse condition, before she goes to you and says that you can be in charge of george as she waits for her other family members’ arrival.

“sweetheart,” george murmurs, staring at you as you kneel beside him and take out a bunch of bandages and some healing potion to help with his blown up ear, “i’m fine, i promise.”

still, no sentence escapes from your lips. you remain busy, just rummaging through the medical kit even though you’ve already got what you needed. annoyance is bubbling inside of you because of what he just said, but you don’t show it, aware that it might be ridiculous to do so as it isn’t like george wished to get himself hurt. 

“sweetie,” he repeats, voice hoarse and tone more pleading, “look at me, will you?”

you don’t oblige. you just zip the bag close and place it on the floor.

“____.” he calls your name, stern and demanding now with a hand holding your wrist to stop you from moving too much.

you finally look at him, his eyes turning soft at the way yours started to water.

you’re a strong girl, he knows that, and you don’t like showing vulnerability to anyone or in any circumstances unless it greatly affected you—and judging by how you’re forcing yourself not to cry or show too much emotion because of what happened to him, it’s clear that you’re so affected by this and that he made you worry so much to the point of wanting to sob.

“i’m okay,” he says again, bringing your wrist over his chest, just so your palm can rest on where you can feel his heart the most, “it’s still beating for you, darling. can’t you feel it?”

you inhale sharply, a lame attempt to stop yourself from fully crying, and nod. “i feel it.”

“it’s just my ear that was messed up. nothing to be alarmed about.”

“don’t be ridiculous. this is still worth being alarmed about.”

“but it’s just an ear.”

“it’s still an ear, george.”

“yeah—but i’ve got another one.”

you close your eyes momentarily.

there really is no point in arguing with this man.

“whatever,” you exhale, shaking off the annoyance away once more, “let’s see what i can do for your—”

you’re supposed to pull your hand away from his chest to start examining him thoroughly but he stops you, keeping your palm in place.

“what?” you ask.

he looks extremely serious as he says his next sentence. “give me a kiss.”

“a kiss?” you repeat.

“a kiss, yes.”

you scoff. “george, you’re still bleeding and—”

“just one, please,” he cuts you off once more, the one impatient now. “look, i… i thought i almost didn’t make it, okay? then i kept thinking what if it really was the end of it all, and then i remembered i only kissed you on the forehead before i left, and that would’ve been the last kiss you had from me.”

he truly has a peculiar mind. out of all the possible things to think of when one is perhaps on the brink of death, all he thinks about is that he never gave you a proper kiss on the lips.

“you’re a bloody idiot, darling,” you say, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips like requested, a gesture that he receives with a contented sigh, “and quite literally too, that is.”

you give him another kiss, this one fuller and with george placing a hand on your back to press you further towards him.

it’s only when the both of you hear fred cough that you pull away, glancing behind you to see his twin brother looking at him with worry.

“sorry to steal him away from you, ____,” fred says as you stand up, getting the hint and giving him permission to go to your previous spot. “just have to check on this clumsy git and then he’s all yours again.”

you chuckle, hugging fred quickly too in gratefulness because he arrived fine as well, before going to the kitchen and preparing something for the whole lot to eat with molly.

as you wait for the water to boil for some tea, you lean on the counter and gaze towards george who’s still conversing with fred.

the moment your eyes meet for a brief second, he has the nerve to wink.

you smile.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ reposted from my other account !

[jjslvt]

being jj maybank’s safe haven (concept? blurb? drabble?)

i just love writing the reader being this for jj — his comfort person because he needs that more than anyone (i might be self-projecting onto him there a bit btw sorry asdfghjkl). jj maybank being glued to your hip when you’re together because he feels at pure bliss for once in his hard life; a concept he had to get used to because it was so strange for him not to be on edge, especially with people. the tension just leaving his body because there he is, resting his cute chin on your shoulder, and arms tight around your waist. secretly afraid that if he lets go, you might vanish into thin air but he knows you never would. his eyes closing as he breathes in your scent, enjoying how you smell (maybe you smell like the beach to him, one of his favorite places) and he’s thinking you are his home. no, he knows, you are. you’re the personification of the sun that he needs shining upon him, getting rid of all the dark clouds threatening to surround him. then those days where you’re both laying on the beach, soaking up the rays and he just rests his head on your tummy because he must. or another instance, he’s crashing at your place. sleeping over and needing to cuddle you? wrapping himself on you like a koala bear — he’d probably trace light circles on your skin, secretly admiring you… feeling thankful for you. clingy & (maybe loverboy) jj once he realizes what a nice feeling it is to have someone caring, gentle & sweet, someone who understands him. someone who would never blame him because you know that under the rough exterior is his heart of gold. he means well. and you’re grateful that he lets his walls down with you. in fact, it’s an honor. now, it’s not your job your fix anyone but that’s not how it is. you’re not fixing him. he is fine in your eyes, you are just embracing his soul so it can shine out. showing him that it is okay. this happened just naturally, we all need support in life. we all deserve love. you two were puzzles pieces, fitting together. he needs someone who just listens to him, comforts him. sometimes, you do just want to hide him away from the world so he doesn’t have to go through another terrible experience; just so he can stay happy.

that smile of his is your personal sunshine.

also, he’s your safe haven too. because this won’t be one-sided.

[mostly-imagines]

Important question..... Who would say "I love you" first, Jason or the reader?

-🕵️

so i’ve seen a lot of different ways people have prophesied this playing out

but I THINK reader would have to be the one to say it first

he would realize he loved you first, and relatively early on, but it would be difficult for him to confront those feelings, especially out loud. i think it would be scary for him and he might even try to avoid you for a little while as it sinks in. it would be a pretty brief avoidance all together, so much so that you might not even notice it happened.

i think it would come more naturally for you to say it first, he feels nothing short of safe and like the personification of love for you.

so no matter how much time passes in between him realizing he loves you and you telling him you do, it would take him by surprise to hear it from you. i think (especially after it sinks in and he really starts to believe that you love him) it would start some of the repairs on his heart and his head that he thought would stay broken.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

ALL I WANT 4 CHRISTMAS .ᐟ

What are the jjk & aot boys doing this Christmas season?

Somehow, mistletoe is left in his wake like a trail of breadcrumbs. Nobody knows exactly how he acquired all of this, but as he continues to swerve the advances of anyone else he meets under the green and red decoration, his intent grows more clear. There's also a mysterious bundle of it in his pocket, which he explains as his "just in case" backup. Before you knew it he was taking you by the hand and leading you through the house, much less subtle at scanning the doorways above than he thinks. At first you're oblivious, wondering if someone had spiked his eggnog or something of the sort, but no. When he halts abruptly and you follow his gaze upwards, every oddity of his behaviour makes much more sense.

"Would you look at that? Mistletoe. Wonder how that got there."

You can still feel his proud grin against your lips, even after he kisses you.

⤷ Satoru, Jean

He’s lounging on the sidelines, eyeing you over the rim of his mug as you enjoy the winter day, unaware of his lingering eyes. The hot chocolate sears his tongue, but he can't find it in himself to react. How could he care, when you're laughing across the room? What was so funny? What was so special about those people that prevented you from talking to him? He's got plenty of other people gabbing in his ear, they always end up flocking to him, as odd as it seems. He only feigns interest in their words, but if it were you, he'd hold on to every syllable like they were life's greatest treasure. he'd take note of every shift, of every breath you took. But for now you were across the room and all he could do was stare, frozen in place.

⤷ Suguru, Eren, Toji

Ah, yes. The personification of Christmas, your very own worker elf at your side. Clad in a ridiculously festive sweater and some reindeer antlers, Santa Claus might as well have thrown up on him. You're sure that if it weren't for you, he'd be wrapped in Christmas lights and singing carols on doorsteps. "It's holiday spirit! Don't you like Christmas?" he'd say. He makes you out to be some sort of grump, but you know deep down that he's just a total dork.

⤷ Toge, Yuji, Connie

Your boy isn't one for grand gestures, he never has been. Even around the holiday season, his love is quiet; soft. His chunky sweater wrapped around your shoulders, a steaming mug in your hands because he noticed you were chilly. A batch of sugar cookies made just for you, icing of your favourite colour decorating the tops. A pretty little box with a ribbon tied into a bow (or at least it was supposed to be) atop it, even though you made him promise not to go out of his way more than he already has. He just can't help himself. A photo snapped of you when you're looking particularly docile, just for safe keeping. He looks at his little album of you when you're apart, but he doesn't tell you that part. His affection is a collection of small sweetness, like a box of trinkets filled with the little things you hold dearest to your heart.

⤷ Yuta, Armin

He’s doing all of the sappiest things without even realizing it. Who would expect this big, beefy oaf of a man to be so whipped? “Yeah, those decorations are really pretty. I’d rather look at you, though.” “Sorry for staring, baby. You just look so pretty. If you were the only present under the tree I wouldn’t mind.” He’s buying you reindeer plushies just because they’re cute, and when he gives them to you his eyes shine with something so sweet it’s hard to believe it’s him. So you take them, you accept all of it, every little thing teetering on the fence of cute and corny, because maybe that’s what love does to you.

⤷ Reiner, Choso

You know how I said Toge, Connie, and Yuji are the personification of Christmas? Yeah, he’s the grinch. No, he doesn’t need another candy cane. No, please don’t turn up the radio, if he hears another Mariah Carey song he might implode. It would be easier to hide his disdain if you weren’t so adamant, so pushy for him to “get in the spirits.” Get that damn hat away from him, he tells you he won’t allow himself to be subjected to your childish antics. But when the festive shine in your eyes dulls ever so slightly, when you retreat with a defeated huff, he doesn’t know what changes. He doesn’t understand why, but he knows he doesn’t like it. So he tugs you back with an annoyed huff, grumbling under his breath as he falls victim to your will. He always ends up doing that, somehow. Always ends up at your mercy, even though if it were anyone else he’d have blocked them out long ago.

⤷ Megumi, Levi, Sukuna

He seems like something straight out of a hallmark movie. Okay, maybe he isn’t as cheerful as your picture perfect husband, waltzing around like Buddy the Elf. Maybe he’s got that passive expression on his face, the one that’s just barely grown easier to read over the years you’ve grown to know him. But he’s cooking you meals and massaging your back, he’s sliding you his card over the kitchen counter before he leaves for work and telling you to do something nice for yourself. He doesn’t care, as long as he gets to see the results; see how happy they make you. He trusts you, he trusts that you’re just as his as he is yours, and that means all of his work benefits him just as much as you. Because he gets to see your face light up, see the subtle curl of your lips with every act of service, and knowing he’s the only one is well enough for him.

⤷ Kento, Erwin

a/n — I wrote this randomly at 4am because one of my mutuals asked if I was doing a Christmas special. Yes apparently I am. Also Gojo fit a few of these but I decided on that one :3 I was thinking about doing more fandoms but I’m not 100% confident in my characterizations for hq, hxh (been a HOT minute since I’ve watched), etc. so aot and jjk it is <3 most people are only here for jjk anyway so

[rosedpetal]

Let's Try Something New

Summary: Outraged by the horrible smut you were reading, Robert shows you how BDSM really is.

Pairing: Robert Chase x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, light bdsm (sorry if it's inaccurate, I'm just a vanilla girl)

Masterlist

You loved him with all your heart.

Not only that, he was a dream come true. Tall, handsome, blonde, broad and with a heart of gold. If Robert was a dog, he'd be a damn golden retriever. With his innocent blue eyes and easy smiles and suffocating affection.

To his friends and colleagues, your husband was the personification of a boy-next-door type, now turned a man with a license to practice medicine. Everything that was probably expected from him when he was young.

He was raised as a Catholic, for fucks sake, even taking the lengths of beginning his studies at seminary school when he was sixteen. Everything in him screamed safe.

You thought it was ironic.

Robert wasn't one to criticize your choice of entertainment, and he secretly knew you've read a lot of smutty books and fanfics on Tumblr. Apparently it was a popular thing amongst women. He's heard nurses talking (and they talked too damn much).

It happened while you were showering, washing your hair throughly, blissful unaware of the fact that Robert saw your book unattended in the coffee table and his curiosity took the best of him. A little peek wouldn't hurt, right?

He flicked through the pages, snorting at how inaccurate and unrealistically these scenes were written. Not only he knew the anatomy and biology like a pro (he was a doctor!) but he used to practice the very same stuff that was so poorly written in your pretentious little book.

It was all so-wrong.

He was so immersed in the horrors he was reading that he didn't notice you walking to the kitchen with a towel in your head and wearing your pajamas, ready to cook dinner. You thought it was weird, usually, he'd acknowledge you first thing. When you turned to look at him, you finally realized, in absolute horror, that he was reading the book you bought on Amazon days ago.

"Rob!" You let out a sound that resembled a squeal. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at you, trying to fight his smirk.

"Is this the kind of educational literature you buy with my hard earned money?"

Your face flushed with embarassment.

"Hey! I bought this with my money! And that's besides the point, I told you before to not snoop on my stuff."

"Because you're embarrassed of it?

"I-" You stopped yourself, feeling your cheeks redden even more.

"I'm not mad that you're reading erotica. But babe, this is so poorly written. I'm actually disappointed." He put the book back on the coffee table, crossing his arms and looking at you. "It's all a load of bull-"

"Because it's kinky? Because it's BDSM?" You knew you were being defensive, but you couldn't help it.

"No. Because this stuff is not BDSM. This author has no idea what they're talking about and is trying to use the practice of BDSM to write their rapey scenes."

You tilted your head to the side. "Are you an expert on BDSM now?" Your eyes widened as you saw your very innocent husband's expression change to slight amused. Oh my-

"I've practiced it, years ago."

You couldn't believe it.

And he kept on rambling: "Well, first of all, BDSM is not something used to subdue women. Or to force kinky practices or shit like that. I mean, where's the fucking safe word here?"

"I'm sorry, when did your BDSM practice happen? Between leaving seminary and going to med school or..?" You couldn't help the question.

He scoffed at your little jab.

"Just let me know if you wanna see for yourself what the real thing is."

That had you speechless.

He was groping you aggressively, your little movie night turned into a heavy making out session the minute the credits started rolling in the screen. You whined, your breathing mixed, your cotton clothed core rubbing shamelessly against the tent in his sweatpants.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he quickly rolled you, your back pressing on the couch as he towered over you.

He kissed down your neck, lips trailing butterfly kisses on your feverish skin.

"I wanna try."

He froze. "Try what?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know what. BDSM. Now."

He sighed, pulling back and sitting on the couch. "Babe, it doesn't work this way."

"Come again?"

"Honey, we have to talk about this first. Do you know what BDSM stands for? What are your limits? We have to establish a safe word, or if we'll use the color system..."

You sit up, trying not to sound frustrated. "Okay, Mr. expert in BDSM. Just tell me you think I'm too vanilla to handle it."

Robert rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with being vanilla."

"I can be kinky!"

"Do you want this to prove a point or are you really interested?"

"I'm interested. I wanna know if my smutty books are really that shitty."

He snorted at that, brushing a strand of hair off your face. "You're okay with being tied up?"

"Yes."

"And blindfolded?"

"Yes."

"Can you choose a safeword for me?"

"Cookie?"

"Oh, I'd love one."

"Robert!"

"Sorry, baby... Okay, let's take this to the bedroom, okay?"

He followed you inside your shared bedroom, rummaging through a drawer on his nightstand and grabbing a medium box.

You probably looked funny, sitting in bed, half naked and politely waiting for Robert to get whatever he had planned for you. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs and in a very serious tone, said:

"Lay down and put your wrists above your head."

You obeyed, feeling the cold metal close around your wrists, safely tied around the headboard. You couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle.

"Don't go Gerald's Game on me, please."

Robert's eyes lit up a little. You were so cute. He wanted to ruin you.

"Take your mind off everything else, and close your eyes for me, beautiful."

Unconsciously, you rubbed your thighs together. That voice and that accent? Should be illegal. The way he called you beautiful as he put a blindfold on you? Completely evil.

Robert hummed to himself as he dimmed the lights of the room and turned up the thermostat. He walked back to you, sitting down next to you, slowly trailing his fingertips on your body. You actually shivered, despite the room temperature.

He kissed down your body. Your neck, collarbones, your bare chest, your navel... Just as he was about to reach your panties, he kissed the way up again, wrapping an arm around you and lifting your torso slightly to kiss you.

It was surprisingly gentle, but still breathtaking, nonetheless. His lips slowly moved against yours, his tongue slowly making its way between your lips, and you let out a little whimper while he kissed you. He pulled back, his warm breath on you as his thumb brushed your swollen lips.

Then, the dance of kissing your body returned. This time, he gently bit on your nipple, giving your breast a small squeeze, lowering his mouth and licking your clothed core. It was embarrassing how soaked through you were, your panties ruined as he hooked his finger on the elastic and pushed the fabric to the side, his tongue finally making contact with your poor pussy.

"Open your mouth for me." He demanded in a rough tone and as soon as you obeyed, he stick two fingers inside your mouth. You moisted them with your saliva, and he retreated them, only to gently push them inside of you moments later.

Your chest was heaving as he kissed and sucked on your clit, rolling his tongue, curling his fingers inside you, the wet sounds music to his ears.

"Ow!" You gasped in surprise when he slapped your clit.

"Color?"

"Green..."

"Are you sure?"

"I was just surprised, okay? Green."

He chuckled as he could hear the pout in your voice, giving you another open finger slap on your swollen clit, his other hand scissoring you, making you arch your back.

Just as you were about to orgasm, he stopped.

"Wha-Why would you do that?" You asked, in an indignant tone.

"You didn't ask for permission, princess."

"Can I please, come?"

"You have to learn how to address me, too." Robert hummed, getting off the bed and taking off his pants, stroking himself. "Can you do that for me, honey? How do you call me when you're at my mercy like a whore?"

God, you knew you were gonna lose your goddamn mind.

"Hmmm, Sir?"

"That'll do for now." He says, towering over you, spreading your legs, making your stomach tighten with anticipation.

He aligned his tip in your wet entrance, his breath becoming irregular. Slowly, he rolled his hips, hands on your waist as he fucked you. The bed creaked slightly under your bodies, and he hiked your leg up, kissing your calf, never stopping.

"You always feel so good." He admits in a gruff tone, holding your leg against his chest as you desperately tried not to scream. "I can never get enough of you, baby girl."

"Sir, I need to come, please, please, can I come?" You cried out, already feeling it.

He'd let it slide this time. You were a beginner, after all.

"Yes, baby. Come for me. Show me what I do to you."

You clamped violently around him, squelching, wet walls milking his length, and he picked up his pace, the sound of your moans, your orgasm, all too much. His whole body tensed up as he spilled inside you, groaning, gently pulling out moments later.

He released your sore wrists from the handcuffs, taking the blindfolds off your eyes.

"That wasn't so bad." You jested, throat dry.

"Yeah, just you wait when I introduce you to the flogger."

The blush on your cheeks was rewarding as he pulled you in his arms again.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

honestly tho om lucifer is such a comfort character

you know mammon's my all time all around favourite no contest but like

lucifer just hits different

he's so tired and he's so overworked and he loves his family so much it makes me sick he's willing to kill and die for them at any chance he made the misfits of the celestial realm his family despite being the perfect example of an angel himself he thinks his brothers are adorable he just wants them to have one quiet day

he's such a bastard he's arrogant and prideful and he'll willingly meow like a little kitty cat because his boybestfriend is sad

he's got daddy issues he's terrified he's traumatised his greatest fear is his father he spent years fighting a pointless war and never questioned his father about whether they ever even tried to find a way to end the war without just mindlessly trying to kill people who really aren't that different from them for a reason no one knows he's willing to be given piggyback rides by another high profile man in a public area

he's a dog person he's weak to puppy dog eyes from everyone he cares about he's constantly done with Mephisto's shit he gets jealous because one of his friends complimented their mutual friend's cookies

he's willing to villainize himself in the eyes of his family to keep them safe he's sadistic his first response to being cornered and scared is to kill anyone who's making him feel that way his love language with his brothers is being a little shit to them he's somehow connected to/the starting point of all the issues/trauma his brothers have he has empty nest syndrome even though all his brothers live at home he hasn't realised the extent to which his actions and words have fucked up his brothers and is constantly surprised and devastated by it when he realises

he has a son he pretends is his brother whom he only ever canonically acknowledged as his son twice which led to huge blowout fights one of his younger brothers bullies him into going to the pub with them once a week his son runs a club with his youngest brother dedicated solely to making his life miserable

he's sadistic he genuinely enjoys seeing people suffer he's so polite he'll allow himself to be poisoned by food he knows is bad he bought dinner for a whole restaurant because it was the owner's birthday he wore a silly outfit and worked at a themed restaurant as a favour for a friend he gets visibly more aroused when he's ordered around he insults his brothers but gets upset whenever an outsider does the same

he loves his human so much and he's so annoyed at them he's so frustrated with them he's so angry at them and he's so worried about them so protective of them so incredibly proud of them he has tried to kill them many many times

he's a borderline alcoholic he's immortal he's greying he gets migraines he forgets to eat and he sleeps at his desk he does the mom thing and orders takeout for his children when he goes out to eat without them he likes dad jokes his greatest wish is to visit a factory he likes good socks he's a grumpy old man

he's over 10 million years old he's an eldritch horror he's the personification of the sin of pride he needs glasses to read his childhood friend? ex-boyfriend? kind-of-brother? old coworker? brother in arms? calls him luci

he's a naggy paranoid perfectionist he removed the entire bathroom because one of his brothers forgot to clean it he had to literally be kidnapped to send him on a vacation he ripped out multiple sets of his own wings he doesn't like being seen shirtless he lectured jason voorhees about him not killing efficiently enough

he's a respected and recognised drag queen he believes love is love he's canonically so beautiful but no one ever makes a move on him because the whole realm thinks he's in a committed long term relationship he refuses to believe his best friend is in love with him despite multiple people saying so

he's the type of person you want to please the type of person you want to make proud the type of person you want on your side because you know no matter what he'll always have your back you're safe that as long as he's there everything will be okay the type of person you want to be held by while everything is falling down around you

he's even queer

[mykoreanlove]

fitting room.

“Wait – you want to come inside with me?!”

Panic flooded your whole body as you realized that Felix was about to enter the fitting room with you. He smiled at you broadly: “Of course pumpkin! I want to see how you look in those clothes.”

Your boyfriend, whom you started dating a couple of weeks ago, took you out shopping on this warm summer night. You welcomed the idea as you loved spending time with him, but you dreaded the thought of him seeing you change.

“Wait… don’t you want me to come with you?”

His pained expression tore your heart apart. Of course, you wanted to be with him. If it was up to you, you would spend every minute of your day with him. This dark-haired personification of sunshine stole your heart the minute he smiled at you.

But you were hesitant at the idea of him coming with you into the monstrous invention that were fitting rooms. Those small spaces always made you feel insecure and ugly. The bright lightning highlighted all the parts of your body that you wanted to hide so badly. You had no intention of taking him with you in there.

Felix noticed the war you fought internally, so he grabbed your hands and squeezed them, hoping to distract your inner monologue. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

His eyes held so much compassion for you, he was dearly worried about your well-being. Realizing how much he cared for you made you beyond happy. You took a deep breath before confessing your insecurities to him. “I don’t want you to see me change…”, you mumbled silently.

Felix frowned as he did not understand your discomfort. “But why? It’s nothing I haven’t already seen, pumpkin.” He smiled again, hoping you would make it make sense to him.

You huffed out in despair: “Lix, those fitting rooms are every woman’s worst nightmare. They are super narrow so of course you naturally feel like a fat giant. And that hospital lightning – I mean you will see every lump, every dimple and all of my stretch marks. I don’t want you to see my flaws.”

Felix had wondered why you would always turn off the lights when you got intimate with him, but he never dared to ask. He fought his own self love battles a long time ago, but the memory of the shame that came with it was still fresh in his mind.

He never wanted to rush you, but he just did. Guilt was flooding his body as he saw what his careless remarks did to you.  Felix squeezed your delicate hands again and apologized.

“Pumpkin, I am sorry. I had no idea you felt that way about your body. Just so you know I don’t agree with you, but I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want. Go ahead and change, I’ll wait over there with the other boyfriends.”

He was about to turn around when you stopped him. “Lix, wait!” Felix turned around and looked at you guessingly. You had never been with someone like Felix before – someone that understood you and let you breathe. You were used to guys that criticized or ridiculed you for your body, so you never had the courage to open up to them.

But not with Felix – it was as if he grasped your every concern with his whole being. You felt safe with him, so you tried to show him more of your vulnerable side. You grabbed him by his hand and ushered him into the next dressing room.

It was just as you had dreaded – narrow, brightly lit and full of mirrors positioned on every side. You watched yourself mortified before your gaze landed on Felix.

Felix, who was looking at you as if you put the stars in the night sky. Felix, who hugged you from behind and whispered into your ear: “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, pumpkin. Because you’re marvelous.” He placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. His love gave you the courage to undress in front of him.

And now you were standing in this small space, exposed in nothing but your underwear, displaying all of your flaws to your godlike built boyfriend. Your bravery ended at stripping down though; you couldn’t face him right now. You felt Felix’ hands caressing your hips and crossing in front of your stomach as his soft lips found your ear. “Now tell me, baby, where exactly are all those flaws you mentioned?” You felt your cheeks fill with heat as you sensed his hot breath on you. “Well for starters, you’re holding one of my flaws right now.”

This was killing you. Your insecurities were eating you from the inside. You already started imagining the worst he could say. “You’re right, y/n. Your stomach is horrific. Why won’t you lose some weight? It’s not that hard.”, followed by him looking at you disgusted and leaving the fitting room.

Felix’ snort let you come back to reality.

“You think this”, he was applying pressure on your stomach as he was talking, “you think this is a flaw?” You nodded your head in agreement. “Oh pumpkin, you little fool.”

Felix turned you around and got down on his knees. Looking up at you he flashed you a warm smile before pampering your stomach with sweet kisses. His actions made you laugh, so you ushered him to stop. “Lix, what the hell, stop.”, you giggled in front of him. He had a devilish smirk on his lips as he looked up at you again.

“I love your stomach, y/n. I love how it holds all of your organs for you. I love how it lets you eat and digest and breathe in deeply. I love how it looks. I love your little navel. I love to kiss it. I love to lay my head on it. I love feeling it rise with every breath. I really, really love your stomach, pumpkin.”

Tears started to form in the brink of your eyes. No one had ever adored your stomach like that, not even yourself.

“What else?”, he whispered. You took a deep breath before pointing out the stretch marks on your hips. “I hate them.”

Felix’s hands landed on your hips again. He was tracing the outlines of your stretch marks, touching the skin cautiously. “Maybe I shouldn’t call you pumpkin anymore.”

Panic arose in your body once more. You knew it. You were disgusting. Of course, he wouldn’t want to be with someone like you. The tone of his voice getting more playful with every touch: “Maybe I should call you tiger instead. Look at the swings of those lines, they are impeccable!”

You felt like an idiot. Here you were being worshipped by your perfect boyfriend, yet you played out one worst case scenario after the other. You looked down at Felix as you grabbed his dark hair, pulling at it lightly. His eyes sparkled with desire for you, they always did. “Where else, baby?”

With a heavy heart you turned around. You grabbed your ass and squeezed it lightly for him to examine. “Do you see all this cellulite?” Due to the many mirrors in the stall, you were able to see Felix’ expression firsthand. His eyes wide from excitement, his tongue licking his lips and hands ready to grab your ass, as well.

“Babe, all I see is your fantastic bubble butt. Do you really think I care about cellulite?” He squeezed your butt eagerly which caught you by surprise. You squeaked and jumped up, only to land in his arms again. He joined in on your laughter and held you close.

“Y/N, I think you’re beautiful. Like all of you is beautiful. I understand that it’s hard to see your body go through changes as you get older but that’s not a bad thing. Baby, you get to get older, not everyone does.” You shared an intimate look with each other in the mirror in front of you.

„Why don’t you think of age as levels? With each passing year you get up one level in the game of life. And getting dimples or stretch marks means you get to wear a new armor. Isn’t that exciting?”

You loved the way he saw life. You knew that his mindset was built on many hours of struggle and hard work, which made you love him even more. You still looked at him in the mirror, but this time you smiled. A whole genuine smile, one that reached your eyes, as well. Felix smiled back at you before ushering you to move your head. “Gimme a kiss, pumpkin.”

You two kissed, tenderly and sweet, while being embraced in the small confines of the dressing room. “Now, will you put on the clothes we’ve picked out for you? I wanna get out of here and show you how much I adore your body in private.” He smirked one last time before kissing you again.

[forsoobado137]

♊padparadschshc1209 Follow

🏓Gorgotmommy1225 Follow

My favorite part was when the actual Isle of Mann came showed up and was like "Hey guys it's me remember me this is what I look like I'm not a 47 year old man."

👩‍🏫teachinggaystoread Follow

I love how the others were like "This guy's a stupid conman" but Scotland was like so ready to shoot him just to prove his point.

🐸theonetrueswampgirlie Follow

England: Do you have the documentation to prove your nation status?

Scotland:

13,347 notes

🎩whereareyaoooo Follow

I know that commie kids and WW2 kids are annoying as fuck but the NatPer kids are on a WHOLE different level.

🧇Belgiangaufres Follow

🏖Allythecalibitch Follow

Teacher: And in 1937, Japan invaded China

NatPer kid: That was so dom of him lol

Me: I'm going fucking insane

21,477 notes

🐉whyamimonster Follow

I just started uni and this guy in my bio class looks exactly like Matthew Williams. I told him and apparently he gets that a lot. He's literally the most Canadian man I've ever met.

🐉whyamimonster Follow

I have been informed by all of tumblr that I share a class with the national personification of my own country.

129,560 notes

🌩goaheadgoku Follow

🦈sharkirasharkira416t19 Follow

Do people still believe nationfacts? I thought we all blocked them.

🧼scrubehindurears Follow

I'm in med school and some of the other nurses actually believe that nations are faking symptoms of illness. Conspiracy theories like these are dangerous because then nation people won't get taken seriously by doctors and will be less likely to get proper treatment. This can lead to a lack of preparation for natural disasters and economic crises because people think they're incapable of feeling sick. This shit can kill people. I'm tired of having this conversation all the time.

🐶doghelldoesntexist Follow

Every time I see this stuff on my dash I'm reminded of the Martinville tornado disaster where the NP of the united states was begging the hospital he was in to evacuate because he felt the familiar dizziness of a tornado but the doctors yelled at him for taking up space in the ER. I wonder what would've happened to all those patients had they been evacuated safely.

🐶doghelldoesntexist Follow

Also btw I know this happened in 1952, before modern forecast technology, but my point still stands. Just because it's easier to predict stuff without nations doesn't mean doctors should yell at them and accuse them of faking. This misinformation kills people.

44,029 notes

[letsatomicbanana]

silly post in which results will be used for science (names are in alphabetical order + Dream and Nightmare share one option 'cause they're identical twins and the options are based on sanses that are more commonly headcanoned as autistic, from less to often)

PROPAGANDA:

Cross: Struggles with containing his emotions (feels everything 110% at all times), sometimes shuts down and is generally rigid who follows specific routine/patterns (although, you could argue that X!Gaster is responsible for his behaviour)

Dream and Nightmare: Dream doesn't seem to get social cues and is easily manipulable (this seems to have changed in more recent times tho, since he matured as a character) and is very emotional. Nightmare (passive) was a reclusive and shy kid who didn't interact much (tho, It's could be caused by the fact that the villagers hated him for being the negative guardian), seemed to have hyperlexia and an interest in literature (i think, correct if i'm wrong)

Error: Seems to have severe sensory issues (specially touch), doesn't interact with people, has a fixatd interest in Undernovela, chocolate seems to be his safe food, has problems with showing empathy and hates when things doesn't go his way. (Things to consider, most of his problems seems to caused due to the fact that he was trauamatized into solitude and has a highly inconsistent body, due to being a glitch.)

Ink: Shows issues with interpesonal communication and social understanding/cues, seems to have a fixed interest on AU's/Art, has hyperfixations that gets in the way of social interaction, constantly stims, extremly under-responsive to sensory stimuli, shows signs of object personification, has low-empathy and hates when AU's don't follow a specific script/rigid with changes. (Things to keep in mind, some of his traits could be caused by his isolation in the doodlesphere, but it isn't unlikely putting in mind how persistent they are. Ink seems to be coded as neurodivergent in canon)

Swap: There isn't much to say about him (due to a lack of canon) but since he's a papyrus-based character (who seems to be austitic-coded) it's definetly something to keep in mind.

[technoturian]

I have been thinking about this a lot. I drafted this and considered not posting it, but I read this post and I kinda wanted to add onto it and at the same time I didn't want to derail it with my own issue. Discussion of Neil Gaiman, fandom, and fatphobia below...

I was not a fan of Neil Gaiman. Not in a way where I disliked him, I just simply didn't engage with his work whatsoever. He was a non-entity to me. But when his big "Sandman" show came out I became aware of a certain incident in his show, namely the fatphobic depiction of the concept of "Despair". In an article about his work I remember Gaiman's characters in the source material had been described as fitting the aesthetic, "heroin chic". This character, Despair, the personification of human misery, was the only fat woman in the main cast.

I saw other fat folks call this out. I saw a direct response from him that, in my opinion, was smug and patronizing. But much more importantly, I saw flocks of people defending not his choice, but him personally. About what a feminist he is. About how thoughtful he is. We just didn't understand his genius. It was a misunderstanding. A misinterpretation. Because that would be bad, and he's not bad, he's good.

Some even went so far as to defend the choice as "better in the source material". You see, in the source material the fat woman personifying human misery was naked! It was better when she wasn't so sad, she simply scurried about like some hateful gremlin, shocking her victims with the grotesquity of her uncovered fatness. Isn't that better?

I researched the character and read a claim that her body was inspired by the Venus of Willendorf. The Venus of Willendorf is a historical artifact of a voluptuous woman. It signifies desire and fertility. Dare I even say, joy. And then someone allegedly saw this artifact and went, "I will name it Despair."

I was offended by reading that, but after doing so I found that I was so much more offended by the response. I mean, it's obvious that this was fatphobia, wasn't it? It was so clearly cut and dry. There was no kinder interpretation. And yet I watched as people bent over backwards, because he was so good! And he made them feel seen and so he couldn't have any prejudices that make that less true. And so when I posted about this whole situation I mainly posted about that response. Because that's what irked me most.

And after that, I decided I wasn't going to be a Neil Gaiman fan on purpose, rather than on accident. When it came to the man himself, I just rolled my eyes and put him into the box of "Not For Me". He could have turned out to be a holy saint in all other ways, for all I knew or cared.

But he wasn't a saint. He turned out to be a rapist.

I'm sorry if this comes across as a gotcha because that's the opposite of my intention. I'm not saying it to derail focus. I'm not trying to make it all about me or my pet cause.

What I'm trying to say is, people will now see things like Despair and take it as a "sign". It's going to be okay now to pick apart his work because now he's a rapist. But I didn't need to know he wasn't a good person to know this person's work wasn't safe for me. And I also knew it wasn't safe to say so, because everyone who tried to talk about how hurt they felt was told how wrong they were to feel that way.

At the same time, it's safe for me to finally vent about how this made me feel now, now that it doesn't matter because he's not good, he's bad actually.

I guess I'm just hoping instead of the usual pattern, where everyone bemoans the fall from grace and debates whether we "should have known" or "couldn't have known", people reading this can try to make space for a middle ground of criticism of the things you love now. Find that gray area somewhere between the top of the pedestal where everything the saint did was with the best intentions, and down in the muck where we should've known he was a rapist all along. Not because saints are secret rapists, but because there are no saints, and most people are there in the middle.

[iamanerd1]

I recently caught up with the latest chapters of spy x family and woah I have a thing to say

So, we can probably all agree that Yuri noticing that Loid’s arm was twitching and checking him for an injury is the closest thing we’ve had so far to this whole spies and secrets thing coming into the open, right?

Well, I wanted to wax poetic about what this scene might represent for a moment.

Twilight, as we know in these chapters, is struggling with his own ‘weakness’ (ie his actual wants as a member of the Forger family to not break up/ hurt the family unit which includes Yuri). This weakness is personified by the wound on his arm. The injury is proof that he is human, that despite Twilight’s best intentions, he is not perfect…

But the thing is, he’s only just barely covering all of this up.

The wound on his arm is the personification of the ‘weakness’ and feelings of Loid Forger, the family man, the one who truly cares about Yor and Anya. Which means that Twilight is the disguise he uses to cover up that part of himself.

I know the expression is to ‘put on a face’ but that’s literally what he’s doing here. He’s attempting to hide his true feelings, which yeah sure is a thing he does all the time, but the thing about it this time is that this ‘weakness’, his true feelings, are still showing through. They are still noticeable.

Twilight falling to his knees in front of Yor is a perfect example of this. His true feelings (feeling safe and relaxed around his wife) leaking through.

And he doesn’t dress the wound before coming home either. Which in this metaphor would be equivalent to addressing and trying to understand his ‘weakness’, but instead he ignores it. Slaps a disguise over it and leaves it to be ignored.

The cover-up Twilight puts on his wound is the same as the lies he tells himself. They are thin, and easy to break, and have to be consciously put on by Twilight.

Because now Loid Forger is the man, Twilight is the mask.

[sixosix]

hiii i fear tumblr may have ate my ask so i'll say it again just in case--if not im so sorry please ignore this i don't mean to rush you or anything :')

wanderer, candy(does that count?), fluff!! :D

(oh oh also can i be 🪐anon/saturn anon? if not thats fine! i just thought i'd ask since i think i've been sending asks consistently enough to identify myself ^^)

notes wc 800; HII your ask wasnt eaten, i was just taking a long time writing the requests LMFAO. of course u can be saturn anon!!! welcome welcome to the blog (this ask was sent a month ago and i am very much late. idek if anon is still active here…) tbh i wrote this and just went with the flow HAHA

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

You unceremoniously dump the pile of imported goods on the table, causing quite a scene in the silence of the House of Daena. They scattered about, and some even clattered onto the floor. You grinned proudly at your friends’ dumbfounded stares.

Tighnari was the first to speak. “I’m assuming you had fun on your vacation in Inazuma?”

“Do you even have money left?” Alhaitham asked, quite incredulously. The most emotion you’ve seen from this month.

It took you a moment to respond, and you felt momentarily distracted by the strange sensation of being watched. “Well, no,” you said eventually. “But I bought all this for you guys! Be more grateful, will you?”

Kaveh clapped his hands. “This is incredible! I haven’t gotten the chance to try any of these local delicacies from Inazuma!”

You nodded approvingly. See? Was that so hard? “Yes, I know. Aren’t I such a good friend? You’re welcome, all of you.”

Belatedly, they mutter their thanks.

You went on a tangent, reciting the food sales pitch you memorized from the sellers, feeling remarkably intelligent. They didn’t have to know that, half the time, you were the personification of a lost tourist/foreigner/idiot in Inazuma and just decided to play it safe and keep most of the souvenirs as food.

They segregated their wanted share and thanked you again. They left you some of the candy, which you had no qualms about eating for yourself. As you all fell into the lull of a conversation, the feeling worsened, and you’ve had enough.

You turned to your friends. “He’s been staring at me for about 30 minutes now…”

They each cast their discreet glances.

“Are you scared?” Kaveh asked worriedly.

“Look at that look in his eye!” you said. “I’ve seen that same look in Rishboland Tigers!”

“He’s not going to eat you,” Tighnari sighed. Well, he wouldn’t know that. Only Alhaitham has met Hat Guy, and he seemed to be amused instead.

“Violence is not permitted in the Akademiya grounds,” Cyno said seriously.

“Maybe it’s not you he’s looking at…?” Tighnari tried.

“Cyno, switch with me,” you ordered.

Wordlessly, he obeyed. The group watched in disbelief as Hat Guy’s gaze simply moved to where you sat next. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Maybe he’s interested because it’s a candy imported from Inazuma,” Cyno supplied thoughtfully.

“That’s a good point. I’m surprised you didn’t make a p—”

“Don’t you mean—” Cyno held up the box that displayed the Inazuman Electro symbol on the front, “shocked?”

You hung your head. You spoke too soon. “OK.”

Tighnari watched your face for a long moment, but it didn’t feel as charged as the guy sitting a few tables away. “You don’t seem to hate the attention,” he concluded at the sight your giddy smile.

“No, I really don’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “He’s smart, and he’s handsome. Of course I’m interested. I just wish he would be a bit more normal about his flirting—if he’s even flirting. Should I give him some?”

You didn’t wait for an answer as your chair scraped backward and you faced Hat Guy directly.

“Make sure it’s just the candy you’re giving!” Kaveh called out.

“I see that Sparks are flying,” Cyno said.

Walking over while you held his gaze was excessively awkward, but it was worthwhile seeing Hat Guy’s little smirk grow like he was pleased you were taking his challenge. It was a bit of a problem, however, that he was undeniably attractive. If he was cute from afar, he was drop-dead gorgeous up close.

“Y/N,” you said, in place of a greeting.

“They call me Hat Guy,” he mused. “Those from Inazuma?”

“Yes.” Suddenly embarrassed that the bullshit you were spewing was picked up on by the guy who everyone was pretty sure was born in Inazuma. “Did you hear me?”

Hat Guy shrugged, plucking one candy from the pile on your hands. “You did pretty well. But I only have one criticism, and I can tell you bought most of them from the same place.”

Ah, you did do that. He tore off the plastic and popped it into his mouth, expression turning sour. “The best ones come from the locals. You should’ve asked the kids,” he advised.

Mouth dry, you said, “Yeah, I should’ve.”

Everyone told you that the mysterious new student—Hat Guy, you now learned—was prickly and slips off when someone approaches him. His birthday was apparently a very thrilling event—in the case that everyone had to hunt him down to give him his cake.

“Want a tip?” he asked, head tilted and looking entirely pretty. His tongue rolled around as he ate his—your candy.

“You seem to know best.”

“Take me with you next time.”

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Im thinking color thoughts again

After years in a controlled, monotonous environment, exposure to light, sound, smells, and movement would be overwhelming.

Bright sunlight could be physically painful. Noises might feel unbearably loud, and unfamiliar smells could trigger confusion or distress. He might instinctively cover his “ears,” shield his eye, or freeze in response to sensory stimuli.

He might struggle to process or make sense of his surroundings, leading to feelings of dizziness, nausea, or a sense of the world spinning out of control.

After decades of emotional suppression, he might feel emotionally “flat,” unable to process the gravity of his freedom. A hyper-pragmatic, survival-focused mental state may persist, where emotions are seen as a distraction from staying alive.

He might respond mechanically, focusing on immediate needs like finding shelter, avoiding perceived threats, or hiding.

Freedom might feel hollow or meaningless at first, as his emotional range is muted by trauma.He might be consumed by the belief that whatever kept him confined is pursuing him.

That can be some type of personification of the Void itself, or related to paranoia about Gaster—especially if, given survivor’s guilt if Gaster didn’t also get out/potential lingering episodes of psychosis/the whole “scattered across time and space” thing—Color sees, hears, or feels like Gaster is watching him. This could also be about the human, as the cause for why Color was sent to the Void.

He would constantly look over his shoulder, avoid open spaces, or refuse to trust anyone he encounters. Decades of captivity and isolation would condition him to be acutely aware of potential threats.

Any sudden movement, loud noise, or unfamiliar person might trigger a fight-or-flight response. His isolation would leave him unaccustomed to social interaction, making him wary or outright hostile toward others.

He might assume that anyone offering help has ulterior motives, even as the souls urge or think differently and disagree with him and amongst themselves.

He might believe he is being watched or that his escape was a trap, or even that Core or Delta is somehow malicious —such as starting to get paranoid that they’re keeping him trapped in a hospital, facility, the apartment, the Omega Timeline, etc, and will not let him leave.

After prolonged isolation, he might feel as though the world outside his confinement isn’t real. Everything might seem dreamlike, distant, or too strange to trust. Years of neglect, isolation, and trauma would erode his sense of self—on top of the six souls.

He might struggle with questions like “Who am I now?” or “Am I even real?”

He might not recognize himself in reflective surfaces due to his physical transformation.

After years in a predictable environment, the freedom of the outside world might feel chaotic and overwhelming. Decisions like where to go or what to do next could trigger paralyzing anxiety.

Sights, sounds, or situations that resemble him of the Void (e.g., dark rooms, confined spaces, the souls’ voices, Gasters), might provoke panic attacks or flashbacks.

Prolonged isolation may have stunted emotional and social development, causing him to regress to a more childlike state—on top of already having the absorbed souls of dead children in his head.

He might cling to anything that feels safe or familiar, such as routines or objects. His immediate concerns might revolve around basic needs like food, warmth, and safety, without higher-level goals or ambitions.

He might wonder why he survived or escaped. while others didn’t or question whether he deserved freedom or to live, in case of something having happened to his AU, Othertale, and him being among the only survivors.

His physical disfigurement and changes might cause extreme self-consciousness, leading him to avoid mirrors, cover himself, or hide from others—only to find the fear of being alone again to suffocating to bear, often drawn back to people even if it’s overwhelming and painful.

After years of predictable confinement, he might crave structure and routine, even if it’s harmful or unnecessary to him, his body, or the souls.

He could re-create elements of his confinement environment (e.g., sitting in the dark, avoiding large spaces) as a coping mechanism. The endless choices and lack of external control in freedom might feel terrifying, making him retreat into old habits or behaviors.

Despite his fear and trauma, he might experience brief moments of wonder at the outside world, like noticing a bird, a sunset, or fresh air. The stars, definitely—might make him feel faintly connected to who he was before.

These small moments could create a faint spark of hope or connection. Over time, he might begin searching for a reason to live, whether through connecting with others, rebuilding his identity, or finding a sense of purpose.

He might refuse to speak or make eye contact with others, cling to familiar objects, such as remnants of clothing or tools from the Void, hide or avoid open spaces, possibly curling into small, enclosed areas for comfort, startle easily or react aggressively to perceived threats, hoard food, water, or other supplies, even if unnecessary, and repeat patterns or behaviors from captivity, such as pacing or muttering or hugging himself and rubbing or tightly gripping his arms.

Having his entire existence and memory erased from his original universe would create a profound sense of being “unreal” or “nonexistent.”

Color may struggle to reconcile the person he was before the risky action (and subsequent confinement in the Void) with the new version of himself, who has no history or identity in the present world.

This sense of erasure would likely lead to feelings of alienation, as he tries to grasp at who he was before but finds nothing. He may feel that he no longer “belongs” in the world he’s returned to.

The fact that Undyne has taken his place would compound feelings of irrelevance. Color might feel that his entire existence has been supplanted, not only losing his physical and emotional self but also the role he once held. Undyne may seem to have lived his life, possibly even fulfilling his dreams or wishes, leaving Color with no real purpose or place.

Jealousy or resentment might arise towards the one Undyne, but there may also be feelings of guilt or shame for being unable to occupy the role he once had. Given that he never planned to survive his initial risky action, he might now view survival as a curse rather than a gift.

Survivor’s Guilt could be compounded by the feeling that he didn’t deserve to survive—especially if he didn’t want to in the first place. This could manifest in a profound self-loathing or hopelessness, as he might feel that he has no real reason to exist anymore, as everything he once was is gone and replaced.

The combination of feeling erased, irrelevant, and deeply alienated from both the past and present might drive him to believe that he would be better off dead.

The internal narrative of “I didn’t expect to live through this, and I don’t want to now” would dominate his thoughts. This mindset could make him highly susceptible to self-destructive behavior, suicidal ideation, or an overwhelming sense of numbness.

Color might feel that death is the only way to regain control or escape the unbearable confusion of living in someone else’s life and universe—or in the case of having gone to the Omega Timeline with Core, perhaps feeling trapped in a promise to live for Gaster, and feeling out of place in an unfamiliar, alien world that doesn’t feel real.

The thought of trying to live in the world again might feel unbearable. The freedom he now possesses could feel more like a trap rather than a release.

The disconnection from his former life and the overwhelming nature of his new reality could cause intense episodes of derealization (feeling that the world is unreal) and depersonalization (feeling detached from his own body or actions).

He might not feel like he belongs in the present, or like he is watching his life happen from outside his body. This would be especially intense if his memories of the past are vague or erased, leaving him confused about his own existence.

He may have flashes of who he was before captivity—moments of fragmented memories or emotional triggers—but these would be disconnected, coming in bursts or waves.

The attempt to piece together these fragments might bring up anger, confusion, or sorrow, and he might find it difficult to trust those memories, wondering whether they were real or just constructs of his fractured mind.

He might feel like a stranger in his own life, as if relationships and connections are meaningless because he wasn’t meant to be part of this reality.

Rejection of new bonds could be a defense mechanism, as he might push people away, not wanting to form attachments only to lose them again—or because he sees no point in having relationships when he wasn’t supposed to survive.

To avoid feeling completely alone and disconnected, he might linger on the outskirts of groups—and if he does form any connections, he’s like to cling to these and the memories formed, experiences had, extremely intensely.

His family or loved moving on with their lives without him, especially with someone else taking his place, Color might feel resentment towards them for “forgetting” him or moving on—struggling to come to terms with something he’s unlikely to find closure on with them personally.

He might feel abandoned, seeing an Undyne as something of an intruder, but also feel guilty for resenting people who likely had no choice in the matter. This dynamic would further fuel feelings of alienation.

To cope with his overwhelming emotions and the internal void, Color might turn to self-harm, whether physical or emotional.

He might seek out dangerous situations or even engage in reckless behavior to feel something, because emotional numbness and an inability to feel or process anything might make him feel even more disconnected from the world.

The desire to escape the world or the emotions he can’t face might lead to a retreat into isolation, where he might try to avoid dealing with the overwhelming pressure of his existence.

He might shut himself off from any emotional or physical closeness with others, trying to protect himself from the pain of remembering his old life or facing their new, unrecognizable role in the world—clinging tightly onto the very few connections he manages to form, and being drawn to people and social events to stave off his horror of being or feeling alone again—searching for a reason or a point to continue living when he’s been forgotten, and likely feels it’ll happen again, if he’s so easily forgettable and replaceable as the Void made him feel.

Despite the overwhelming hopelessness, there might be flickers of desire to find meaning in their new life. He might seek out the reason for their survival, questioning if there’s something they’re meant to do now.

He might latch onto any small fragment of hope or purpose—helping others, trying to reclaim his lost identity, or discovering a new role to play in a world that no longer has a place for him.