#he's trying to squash it tho

[frog-with-no-therapy]

Guess who still isn't over mad scientist Peter parker? Unfortunately me

If this doesn't stop soon I will fail my finals

[jojo-schmo]

I'm updating my personal ref sheets and it's really hitting me just how SMOL Kirby, Bandee, and Elfilis really are compared to the rest of the cast.

[enidette]

SICK LIKE ME

warnings :: both are 18+, piv, my attempt at sorta hate sex even tho it feels ooc pls, i didn’t know how to end this..

carl grimes x fem!smith!reader; requested by @carlmipololo

it wasn’t supposed to go like this. carl’s plan was to break into the sanctuary, kill negan, and hopefully escape. and if he didn’t, he’d die a real savior, or he’d die trying.

those plans were squashed under the calculated steps of the girl before him now. you, negan’s precious daughter who’s learned nothing from this apocalypse except how to be spoiled. ever since negan took you in, you just learned how to demand and how to get your way. it made carl seethe.

no matter how many times he was told he got lucky, that you picked him. saved him from any possible punishment awaiting him for his careless acts. he remained sour, face etched into one of anger or disgust when you’re around.

just as negan had his wives, his daughter had — boy toys as you like to call — of your own. not many, as most didn’t appeal to you or couldn’t satisfy you long enough before they received the iron as punishment.

and just like negan’s wives, your toys were handled well. they got good meals, good treatment, and when you didn’t need them they could do mostly whatever they’d like. and when you’d need them, they never seemed to complain. after all, you’re easy on the eyes. and your toys are never forced.

more-so persuaded, until they give into you and give you what you need. it usually doesn’t take long as men can be animals, but carl is an exception. he’s doing the bare minimum to be your play thing just enough to keep his family alive. it’s what he tells himself at least.

but it is hard not to fall for you, you know how to reel a guy in. no surprise there. you’re pretty, you can handle yourself. and with your boys, you let go, be a little more vulnerable with them. and carl can see through the facade of negan’s daughter.

but regardless of any of that, even if you’re different, you’re connected to negan. directly. you’ve done things for negan. things that don’t sit right with carl. he can’t let things go beyond pure survival, he won’t let it happen.

but it only takes so long for a man to break, and for carl it was a month.

you saunter down the halls, dim lighting illuminating your skin that’s barely covered by a sheer nightgown. negan’s noticed how you’ve plucked your toys off one by one, narrowing the group down so you can focus on one certain long-haired boy the most.

too bad he ignores your advances, but that clearly hasn’t stopped you. as you’re making you’re way to his room now, knocking softly before letting yourself in without allowing the boy to even blink.

you knew he wouldn’t be asleep, it’s like he never is. every time you’ve visited him even in the latest hours of the night, he’s still wide awake. and avoiding your gaze entirely. but this night is different. it’s nothing drastic, just the tension. you approach his bed and sit at the end, looking at him as he continues to look at the old tv behind you.

“it’s not even on,” your smooth voice cuts the silence. you don’t expect a reply, and you don’t get one. “i could entertain you better..” your voice trails off, laced with suggestiveness as you lean forward a bit. you know how you’re holding yourself up has your breasts pressed together, and you know this angle gives him a straight shot to look right at them.

again, you expect nothing. but a fleeting dart of his eye catches your attention. your heart begins to race but with his gaze being gone just as fast as it came has you wondering if you’re being delusional.

but then he looks at you, making eye contact for too long, but you refuse to be the one to break it. not now.

he tilts his head, “is that all you want?” his voice nearly makes you shiver, you’ve wanted him for so long. anything you can get has your body feeling like it’s on fire.

you giggle and bend your head down a bit, looking up at him through your lashes. “is what all i want?” with a scoff he rolls his eye, looking away from you again. it has your shoulders slumping slightly, but you’re not nearly ready to give up.

“to be lusted after.” it’s not a question this time, but it leaves you wondering. wondering why you were so adamant about him over the others, why he stuck out. “is it what you want?”

you bite at your bottom lip, unknowing of what to say because you’re unsure of how to answer his question properly at all. “i want you, carl.” you watch as he remains in his spot, focus trained on the wall his bed is against.

then he’s nodding and his lips are on yours quicker than your brain can process. he guides you onto his lap and you sigh into his mouth, you can tell he’s not very experienced but you’re not exactly surprised either. the prospect of that being so had you chasing after him even more.

your hands go up to his hair, tugging at the strands a bit harsher than you intended. but you can’t help yourself, not when he’s finally in your grasp just how you wanted. he breaks the kiss faster than you’d like, but your complaints get caught in your throat when his lips attach to your neck.

what starts off as normal marks turn into him biting hard into your skin. whimpers leave your lips as he sucks particularly hard on the skin of your collarbone.

he lifts his head at the sound, looking at you with anger and something you can’t quite decipher. “this is what you wanted?” your lips part to speak but he takes this as another opportunity to kiss you, messier and teeth clashing.

he feels you starting to grind on his thigh, the sight of you so needy, someone needing him had his head swimming. you got him right in your trap and it made his blood boil. but he can’t help but watch in awe as you use him to get off, resorting to gripping your hips harshly.

he wanted to leave marks, and plenty, a form of payback for what you’ve done to him. he isn’t enjoying this, he’s enjoying the idea of it. he thinks you look pathetic, wasting so many attempts on getting in the pants of a boy who wants your father dead.

but then your hands are fiddling with his pants, and the thought of being inside you, so close to you has his breath stuttering. it’s not like he’s not doing everything you ask of him. going from stubborn to your perfect plaything like a switch has flipped in his head and he couldn’t deny it anymore.

he rids himself of his clothes, hands sliding beneath your gown to reveal your bare body underneath. it has him wondering if you came this prepared every time. the mental image of you presenting yourself perfectly for him every time has him springing into action.

you lay down in front of him, watching as he hovers above you, eyes raking over you beneath him. you notice his sudden obedience, how he’s waiting for you to instruct him on how to please you.

you take his cock into your hand, smirking when he sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. you guide him to your entrance but he doesn’t move. you whine, hands flying to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. but he still doesn’t budge, basking in every second of your desperation.

“please,” you beg, voice shaky as your legs wrap around his waist. he pushes forward, inching into you until he’s bottomed out and you’re clinging to him. “move,” you whimper out, barely trusting your voice.

he breathes heavily into your ear, “you’re so desperate. this is what you’ve been after this whole time?” he’s trying to make sure it’s in your head that he hates this, he hates you. but the feeling of your walls around him, sucking him in and drawing him closer to you tells him otherwise.

he pants into your ear as his thrusts get messier. his hands are gripping your waist, and he wants to ask you a million things. if he’s making you feel good, but he’s not supposed to care. if he’s hurting you, but maybe that’s what he wants. a twisted little sense of payback that you seem to enjoy.

you hand goes down to your clit, but his eyes follow and he swats it away. he copies your movements, watching you squirm under him as you get closer to the edge. he watches you come undone around him, getting sloppier with his thrusts before his head dips into your neck and he stills.

he breathes heavily into your skin, he knows you both can’t go back to your twisted normal after this.

taglist :: @carlslvr @hiro--aoki @carlsangel @mozzeralla-stix @carlmipololo @carlgrimesgfofficial @livingdeadgirlflorette

[marifilue]

i loved “i gotcha darlin’”!! how about anything similar? i just love comfort with logan! maybe he accidentally hurts reader and she knows but is still shaken up? rly ip to u tho!! <3

Fractured

Wordcount: 2.2k

Pairing: DOFP Logan Howlett x GN!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Comfort, angst, established relationship, kisses n lil fluff.

Oneshot: During a mission, your comms went out and you got separated from Logan. When he finally found you, relief overwhelmed him and he might've just held you a little too tightly.

A/N: Thank you for the request dearest anon! This took longer than I expected because I overthink of best scenario for Logan in this situation. Also I get too excited since this was my first request work omg omg. Hope you'll enjoy this <33 Pls feel free to send me more request.

“You’re staring,” you said, not even bothering to look up from your book.

“Can’t help it. You look suspiciously well-behaved.” Logan shrugs from his spot across the room, arms crossed over his chest like always.

You glance up at him, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m evolving.”

“Into what? A damn saint?”

You snort, tossing a pillow his way, which he easily dodges with a grin. “Jerk.”

He walks over, slow and smug, plucks the book from your hands like it’s nothing “You’ve been quiet.”

You lift a brow. “That bothers you?”

“Only when it’s you,” he says. “Usually means something’s stewin'.”

You huff, pretending to look away. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the peace.”

“Sure,” he says, stroking your hair. “That why you sighed seven times in the last two minutes?”

“Wow. You counted?”

“Didn’t have to. You got that specific kinda sigh when you’re tryin’ not to feel stuff.”

You glare at him, snatching your book back from his hand. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Right here’s fine.”

He sits next to you on the couch, close enough that your knees touch. And when you don’t pull away, he rest his palm comfortably on top of your thighs. He doesn’t hide the way he looks at you—like he’s trying to read something between the lines of your silence.

You try to keep it casual. “You ever think maybe I’m just boring today?”

“Not a damn chance,” he says, his voice low. “Even your quiet’s got teeth.”

You laugh, a soft, real one, and it slips something loose in your chest.

He leans in to press a kiss on your lips, slow and easy. No pressure. Just warmth and patience, the kind you never got used to having.

He rests his forehead against yours, warm breath brushing against your skin. “Whatever’s crawlin’ around in that head of yours... I’ll be here to squash it.”

The way he says it, like it’s simple. Like it’s obvious.

Because love is supposed to feel that way, safe. That’s what fictional books tell you. That’s what you eventually start to believe, that love is a sanctuary.

You press your lips together, steadying the sudden flutter in your chest. “You know I don’t need saving, right?”

Logan doesn’t move away. “Didn’t say you did. Just means I’ll be there if somethin’ tries to bite.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you with a soft smile. “That include tonight’s mission?”

He grunts. “Especially tonight’s mission.”

You lean back just enough to meet his eyes. “You still think it's a setup?”

“Somethin’s off about it,” he mutters, his fingers giving a subtle squeeze to your thigh. “Recon without backup in a town full of anti-mutant chatter? Charles sayin’ it’s low-risk when it reeks of bait?”

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s just noise.”

He gives you a look that says you know better than that.

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. I’ve got your six.”

“You always do.” His voice softens again. “But this time, don’t play hero.”

You scoff. “I’m not the reckless one.”

He raises a brow, looking entirely unconvinced.

“…Okay, fine. I’m slightly the reckless one.”

“Darlin’, you’re the reason I get grey hairs.”

You chucked softly and leaned in, pressed a kiss to his cheek playfully, but sincere.

“You’d still follow me into hell, though.”

Your fingers slipped into his hair, toying with it gently. Those little clusters of grey at his temples suited him more than they should’ve.

He smiles, low and crooked. “Yeah. And I’d drag your stubborn ass back out.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “You say that like it’s a chore.”

He leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “Nah. You’re the only kind of trouble I’d sign up for twice.”

That earns a soft laugh out of you, flustered. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, quick and teasing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm, and you’re blushing,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You shove at his chest, half-laughing, half-hiding behind your hand. “Shut up.”

But he just kissed you again, slower this time. And it’s unfair, really, how easy he makes it feel. Like love doesn’t have to be complicated.

You melt a little against him, breath catching when his hand cups your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek.

“I love you,” he says it in a breath, like it’s second nature.

You freeze for a second—only a second—but it’s enough for him to catch it, to see the color shoot up your neck like it always does.

He grins, cocky and soft. “You make that face every time. Drives me nuts.”

You laugh, flustered as hell. “I love you too, Lo.”

He strokes your cheek, eyes darker now. “Say it again.”

Before you can, his mouth is on yours again—hungrier this time. No teasing, no holding back. Just him and you and the heat between every breath you take.

You’d been gone too long.

Forty-seven minutes since your comms cut out. Forty-seven minutes of silence in his ear, static in his chest, and no sign of you in the wreckage.

Logan had torn through two floors already, left a trail of bodies and ripped steel behind him. He wasn’t thinking—just moving. Fast. Focused. Dangerous. That dangerous, primal part of him clawing closer to the surface the longer he didn’t hear your voice.

“Where the fuck are you…” he muttered, storming into another corridor, scanning every inch.

You weren’t supposed to be separated this long. The building had caved in halfway through the op—explosives too early, their team scattered. Your last words were “I’m fine, I’m just gonna—” and then nothing. Just silence.

His claws ached. His jaw locked.

Then he found you, leaning onto a wall behind you, holding your side in pain, catching your breath—covered in dust and blood and breathing too rapidly.

Relief knocked the wind out of him.

“There you are,” he rasped.

You were so relieved at the sight of him after the shit show you just went through—getting ambushed by a bunch of armed forces twice your size, now dropped on the floor with their fancy tools.

“Logan!” you exclaimed his name in relief.

“Are you okay?” He paced faster toward you, and you just nodded breathless. He was on you in seconds—slightly bending his posture to reach your height then lifting your feet's off the ground, hauling you close, arms wrapping tight around your frame, clutching you like something precious that almost slipped through his fingers.

He buried his face in your hair. He was breathing too hard.

“Jesus. You scared the hell outta me.”

He didn’t notice the way your body stiffened at first, not until a soft gasp escaped you—a sharp one, cut off like you tried to swallow it.

He pulled back just slightly, putting your feet back on the ground.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I’m okay.”

But you weren’t. He could feel your heartbeat going haywire, feel the tension in your muscles. And when you moved, just barely, the way your breath caught—he knew.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” His voice was low, torn between panic and guilt.

You tried to smile, barely.

“No, it’s just—I took a hit from something earlier. It’s not you.”

But you were shaking. He could see the way you were favoring your side, holding it like it might fall apart if you didn’t.

He realized it then. In his desperation to hold you, he'd hugged you too tight. And something shifted in your rib.

"Can I?" he asked, bringing his delicate fingers to your ribs, more careful this time. You nodded. He traced each rib carefully, one by one, until he found it—the one that made you flinch painfully. He pulled his fingers back immediately.

"Shit... one of your rib snapped. I can feel it.”" Logan muttered.

"Yeah," you rasped. "I can tell."

You blinked. It felt like your lungs were filled with wet cement, every breath grinding against something sharp inside you.

He stepped closer. "Darlin’, I’m sorry—fuck, I didn’t mean to—"

"It’s not you, Lo," you cut in automatically, even though… maybe it was. You didn’t want it to be.

Your body already ached all over, hands still trembling from the fight, but it wasn’t until he touched you, until his arms wrapped around you, offering that comfort you always craved then it shambles within second.

Maybe the rib was already fractured before he hugged you. Maybe it wasn’t. Who fucking knows. All you knew was that now, every breath came with the kind of pain that made you grit your teeth so hard, you swore they’d shatter.

"C'mon let's get outta here" Logan moved toward you again, like he wanted to fix something. You sidestepped him.

"I’m fine. I can walk." You didn’t wait for him to argue. You gripped your side and pushed forward, each step stiff, each breath shallower than the last.

He was stunned at first. You could feel him watching you. That look peeled your back without you turning.

"You’re limping," he said, quiet but firm.

"It’s nothing."

He caught up to you in two strides, his hand brushing your arm. You flinched.

And that was it.

His hand froze mid-air. His eyes locked on yours, not angry—wounded. Neither of you said anything for a beat.

"What just happened?" his voice dropped, low and rough.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You didn’t even know how to explain it. How could you? That it wasn’t the pain, not really. It was the idea of him, capable of hurting you. Even by accident. Even just once.

You shook your head, as if trying to shake it off.

"I don't know, okay? Everything just fucking hurts right now. Do me a favor and stop making it worse."

Logan stepped closer, slower this time, hands raised like he was approaching something wild and bleeding. "I apologize, please... I'm sorry" he said, quieter now.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." he managed an eye contact.

You swallowed, looking away. "I know." And you did. But the knowing didn’t undo the feeling.

He reached out again, slower this time, letting his hand settle gently at your shoulder.

"Please, Logan, just... stop it. I'm fine..." Your voice cracked slightly as your eyes started to sting. You stepped away, making his arm drop to his side again.

"Don't do this. You're in pain. I won't just stand here and watch." he said, pleading, his eyes growing with worry.

Your silence clung to the air like smoke. Heavy. Suffocating.

You hated how he looked at you—like he was trying to hold you together with his eyes alone. Like he’d failed you. And maybe, just maybe, you hated that some part of you agreed.

“I can’t fix it if you won’t let me.” he said, barely above a whisper.

“It’s not something you fix, Logan. It just... happened.”

“I happened,” he said, didn’t even sound angry nor upset. Just... tired. Regret pouring out of him like a slow bleed.

“I held you too tight. I should’ve known better.”

You turned away, not because you wanted to, but because if you looked at him for one more second, the tears would win. And you were already so damn close to crumbling.

He stood there for a long beat, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to breathe.

“I love you. That doesn’t come with promises I won’t screw up. But it does mean I’m not going anywhere.” he stepped closer, as if not allowing you to slip through his finger, ever.

“I’m scared,” you murmured watching him stepping closer but this time, you stopped stepping back. “Not of you. Just... of what that moment meant. Of how easy it was.”

“I get it, sweetheart. I forgot what I’m capable of. Forgot how easy it is for me to break things… even the ones I care about most.”

Then, slowly, your body gave in—not all at once, just enough to lean back an inch. Enough for him to understand you weren’t pushing anymore.

But this time, he didn’t pull you into his arms. He didn’t dare.

Instead, his hand came up carefully, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. His fingers trembled just slightly as they rested against your cheek, his thumb stroking softly beneath your eye, right where the tears had started to fall.

He didn’t say anything. He just watched you with that look you hated and needed all at once—like you were breakable, and he was furious with himself for proving it true.

You blinked, and a tear slid down. He caught it with his thumb.

Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, warm and lingering. Holding you so gently.

A second kiss followed at your temple, softer, and something in your chest cracked open at the tenderness of it.

He didn’t make the pain disappear—not literally, at least. Your body still ached with every passing second. But if there’s one thing he did manage, it was to make you feel safe. Loved. He made damn sure you never felt anything less.

He didn’t give up on you. He never does. Not when you messed up, not even when he messed up, like now. He let you in, let you hear what was going on inside of his heart and head. And he showed it—with his words, with his touch, with everything he had to give.

And that—that was the kind of love fiction never quite got right. Because it wasn’t grand or perfect or poetic. It was patient. Steady and real.

And it was yours.

[tsukkilody]

‧˚꒰💛꒱༘‧— at his mercy ── .✦ sinister mark

nsfw content !! minors dni ! pls read the tags !!!

cw: +18 fem bodied reader, swearing, face slapping, degradation/humiliation, choking/breath play, slight fingering (barely any), power play, power imbalance, fear play, lowkey cnc, description/mention of violence and murder, no actual harm, no aftercare.

You can’t suppress the cry that rips out straight from your throat when the palm of his hand slaps firmly across your face.

That has been a particularly hard one, and as much as you like the pain and ask for it, the imprint of his hand and the stinging sensation lingering on your soft skin it's becoming hard to bear.

For a second the room spins around you, everything feels out of place from your kneeling position and you have to collect your breath and thoughts, he doesn’t give you much time to do so tho, his hand already aggressively gripping your face, smashing your cheeks, forcing you to meet his gaze as he leans down to eye level with you.

His expression is dismissive and seems serious, but there’s that little twitch on his upper lip that you're also very familiar with, it's impossible to miss when he's this close.

"You know I'm not even trying hard right?” He spits the words “and I wouldn’t even have to do that to send your head flying across the room” he jerks your face to the side as if showing you where it'd land, when he guides it to face his own again, the corner of his mouth has risen into a smug smirk.

“I could squash it right now if I wanted” He gives your face a little shake, tightening his grip, poking into your cheeks making them sting, your lips pursed exaggeratedly.

Your mouth goes dry but your core wettenes, fear mixed with arousal clogging your brain, you feel paralyzed, at his mercy, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

His eyes darken dangerously as his smirk falters, his solemn look returning. “Your stupid brain doesn't register how truly fragile you are to me.” His voice drops to almost a whisper and there's a so sick soft edge to his twisted words, giving you goosebumps.

“Should I show you?” He tilts his head, slightly raising a brow. There's no mocking behind his voice this time and it's got an unsettling weight to it that makes your heart skip a beat.

You try to deny with your head, quickly realizing how useless the attempt is, he's got it locked in place.You can't struggle out of his grip, you can't escape, not when it's him.

Your pulse accelerates and your legs tremble against the floor, knees aching from holding the position for too long.

His stare is heavy, and so damned scary, judging every single one of your reactions. Your breath accelerates, it feels like any false move could sentence you, completely surrendered to his power.

He pulls his hand away from your face, and your muscles should be able to finally relax, but it’s quite the opposite. Your body tenses further and your eyes fall shut in a desperate attempt to steady yourself.

The air thickens as you lay on the floor, he's not doing anything and the anticipation is eating you alive as you wait for his never coming next move, it's agonizing.

Your whole body is trembling now, you don’t know what to expect. His presence looms over you, making you feel like you are nothing.

Then, in a swift movement his hand finds your throat, taking you by surprise, swiping you off the floor with no effort, your eyes flutter open, and a gasp gets stuck midway in your throat as his fingers wrap tightly around it “I’m barely squeezing and I can feel your windpipe poking me” He smiles again, and it's evil.

“I just have to apply a little more pressure…” he murmurs almost to himself.

Your blood goes cold as your vision starts to get blurry, tears filling your eyes, but you can still make out how he wets his lips, his own flushed cheeks, the way he’s looking at you, like a predator about to devour its prey, such a forbidden thrill invading all your senses.

When the tension gets unbearable and your lungs start aching for some oxygen, he lets go, catching you as you stumble, but you can't let your guard down when he's suddenly ripping off your panties with unbelievably ease, as if they were made out of thin air. Quickly followed by his fingers running across your slit shamelessly, making you cry out at the touch, turning what was almost a horror scream a few seconds ago into a pleasure one.

He collects your pooling juices from your entrance and slowly plays with your folds. You're unable to control the sounds that come out of you as well as the actions of your body. There are tears streaming down your face and your trembling frame desperately grabs onto him in hopes of not to trip and fall, you are too weak, and god how he loves seeing you like this.

He's got a hand around your waist, satirically laughing at your current state while circling your clit “I can't believe how wet you’ve got just from this… Pathetic, fucking pathetic.”

[socksdoeswrites]

can you write more about bllk? I saw your other work like it and i agree with there needing to be more bllk content!

a/n: oh my goodness, i know right? like, show my soccer boys some love! i can most definitely write more about that fandom! is there anything in specific that you would like to see? i have some ideas for what else to write about, soooo, i suppose i'll share a lil sum sum with you, anon! (and everyone else, silly!!) i just want to say thank you all so much for truly liking my work! i have received so many nice things, and i can't put into words how adorable you guys are!! it means the absolute world to me:)). as alwaysss, i hope you all enjoy!!!

contents: angst (just a taddd), fluff, oneshot, gn! reader, sae being a silly lil guy, pro player! sae itoshi, breakup!! (dw tho:))), just a little something to get more ideas flowin, if i missed anything please let me know!! <3

paring: sae itoshi x gn!reader

word count: 1.0k (sum small, sum cute xoxo)

what a charmer

“i really do love you,” 

his voice struck a chord in your heart.

“but you know soccer is important to me. i can’t have a distraction.” 

oh.

oh.

that’s what he saw you as? a distraction? the man that you loved for years was telling you something you couldn’t believe. you didn’t want to believe. sae itoshi saw his loving partner as nothing more than a mere stepping stone.

you didn’t know what to say. moreover how to say it. you stared up at the person you had pursued for so many years, and could barely recognize him. it made you feel sick looking at his emotionless expression. you couldn’t read him like you used to. 

you couldn’t do much of anything anymore. your relationship was rocky ever since he started focusing more and more on his career. which you loved. he was so passionate and happy about his work that you felt it radiate off him. seeing his games, and him working so hard for something he’s tried so hard for made you have butterflies.

that was until he had completely squashed those fuzzy little creatures. it felt as if he had no remorse for anything he had said. he had already made his mind up, and deep down you knew there was no changing it. you cursed yourself for feeling tears prickle your eyes, and that burn in your throat as if you downed a whole bottle of whiskey. you never thought it’d be this brutal with a few simple words. 

you didn’t give his change in demeanor much of a second glance. turning on your heel and walking away from him. you had to be away from him. it was the only way you could handle anything in this moment. the subtle call of your name was echoing around your mind. 

you didn’t turn around. deciding it was better that way. frankly, you didn’t stop until you miraculously ended up in front of your apartment door. opening the dark burgundy oak door, you looked around the dark atmosphere. it smelled of your late boyfriends cologne. 

it hit you like a semi truck. dropping to your knees and screaming into your hands. the screams turned into painful weeps, as you struggled to catch your breath. the weeps became nothing more than a shuddering in your chest. 

you slept in that very spot that night. 

to say the following days were a tiny bit better would be a lie. you spent your days in a trance of despair and guilt. trying your hardest to come up with some sort of solution to this. but nothing ever came. the harder you thought about what you could’ve done differently, the harder you found it to not cry. 

fellow companions saw the troubles you were going through, and saw how difficult it was for you to go through day to day. so, why not invite you on a little evening out? 

you debated going in general. why go see a soccer game when a soccer player just broke your heart? but you digress. it got you out of the house.

you sat quietly observing the field. two teams, eleven players. one set of uniforms colored a nice darkish blue color. the other being white, and to your absolute horror, the man you still found yourself having feelings for wore that very white uniform. 

it had been quite some time since you saw him last. but who’s counting? you tuned out the screaming matches between each side, and focused closely on his and everyone else’s moves. sure, you didn’t know much about soccer, but you could tell when there was improvement, and sae was full of it. 

to you his talent needed no tweaking. it’s like he was genuinely made for this sport, and it showed. the only time you took your watery eyes off the pink haired man, was to see who he was competing against. his own brother. 

being with sae, you’d heard the drama. you’d heard most things people didn’t, but nevertheless you were proud to see his brother make it as well.

the match went on, occasionally ‘ooohs’ and ‘aahs’ made you somewhat snap out of the trance you were in. but there was nothing more captivating than sae’s eyes traveling around for the ball. he hadn’t changed a bit, really.

the game ended, and his team had lost. shrugging your shoulders, you began to stand when a gaze hit your own so vigorously. a pair of wide eyes you were hoping you’d never see again stared up at you. you swore time stopped. you seen his arms go limp, like a million years of stress lifted from his shoulders. his eyes light up, as a kids does on christmas. truly a sight you’d never forget. 

but that didn’t stop your legs from moving towards the exit. you’d seen him and that was enough. or so you thought. you were almost there. almost in the parking lot away from all of this. 

until you felt it. 

the damp and warm hand cradling your wrist gently. 

“you came.”

you were stupid to think you could someone out run this man. but you had to give it a try. turning your head, you seen a tired, out of breath man. his eyes reading so desperately to hear him out. to stay. begging you to. 

“i didn’t know you’d be here,” 

your voice shook.

“but,. i’m glad you were.”

you trailed off. it was a huge step to take, but it was worth a try. his bottom lip quivered, pulling you so deeply into a hug you didn’t know you longed for. one hand rested around your lower back. the other cradling the back of your head. your arms followed swiftly after wrapping around his sweaty neck. 

the two of you just held each other for dear life. afraid to let go. when sae finally pulled away, you’d seen how blood shot his eyes were, as he rested his forehead to yours. his hand traveled to your cheek caressing the bone lovingly. 

“i was so stupid.” 

“you were.” 

“i hurt you.”

“you did.” 

he chuckled at your quick comebacks.

“please forgive me?” 

you pecked his nose, a smile you didn’t know you had anymore forming.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[ghostdiva]

ok so the new trailer for episode 3 just dropped. big hype. here are some theory's, notes, and observations.

also I took a lot of screenshots...

anyway here we go.

so the adventure is set to be "The Mystery of Mildenhall Manor". Now, I do think that Caine is gonna be the quest giver this time, sending the gang to find something inside the spooky, probably haunted manor.

small guess is that they gotta find Matilda, one of the ghosts haunting the manor, and trap her in a vacuum. idk why, it's literally just a hunch.

Jax also takes a moment to harass Pomni with a vacuum, which just makes me think of Luigi's Mansion.

anyway, the gang (minus Zooble) are gonna go in the manor and try to find whatever they're looking for, and either by agreement or random set of events, the gang is gonna split up, Pomni and Kinger being paired up. I don't really know if Ragatha, Gangle, and Jax stick together or not, as they're not really shown much in the trailer.

I am inclined to believe it is a set of events that separates the gang tho.

it's the one of the reasons I can think of that'd make Pomni climb on the door like that.

I mean... outside of the very spooky decorum.....

which Pomni has a pretty reasonable reaction to

btw, I fucking love Pomni's cartoon physics with the squash and stretch rubber-hose animation. it's so expressive and fun to watch.

anyway, it seems Caine is determined to have Zooble go on adventures. so he literally sits them down and tries to therapize them.

though with Caine being an AI with very little knowledge of how the human mind works, this goes predictably horribly.

I imagine Zooble tries on some level to convey to Caine the ludicrousness of their situation. stuck in a digital world getting repeatedly traumatized by meaningless adventures that seem to do more harm than good. though I get the feeling Caine would miss the point, leading Zooble to correct him, and/or get upset at him for not understanding. watching this verbal fight happen between these 2 will probably lead to us, the viewer, understanding more about Zooble.

anyway, back to the manor with this cute little guy.

look at him, he's so cute and squishable. unfortunately this guy is the only cute and squishable NPC here because Pomni and Kinger seems to really be going through it.

they're mostly poking around, opening drawers and stuff. maybe they're looking for a key to get back with the others or something? who knows.

they both probably stumble around in the dark for a bit, both figuratively and literally.

they might end up stumbling into an antagonist NPC, which is the only way I can explain some of these screenshots.

it looks to me like Kinger is facing something. I mean, He's missing an eye in the first one, smacking something with a gun in the second, and looking really worried in the third. Plus the fist 2 have similar lighting so I'm inclined to believe those 2 pics come from clips in close time frames to each other.

there's also another image that has similar lighting...

now... this may sound weird, but I think that either Pomni got Possessed somehow, or something tried to take her shape. Possession seems more feasible since we know at least 2 of the NPC's in this adventure are ghosts, and at least in media ghosts are known to possess people. seeing as digital circus seems to love pulling from video game mechanics, this wouldn't surprise me at all.

this would also kind of explain why in the "POMNI WAKE UP!! IT'S TIME TO GO ON AN ADVENTURE" video, in the "Kinger with a shotgun" clip, he seems to be hitting Pomni with the gun. it makes a lot more sense if Pomni ends up getting possessed somehow, forcing Kinger to hit her in order to defend himself from the ghost.

this also could tie back to the worried look on Kingers face in the screenshot before Possessed Pomni. Cause he'd know what he has to do, even though he doesn't want to hurt Pomni.

Hell, I'm pretty sure Kinger even openly protects Pomni in this episode.

because of the shot in the trailer taken from this hole's perspective

not only is Pomni hiding behind Kinger, but he has one of his hands out in front of her, as if to protect her from whatever is in that hole.

also in regards to guns, Kinger isn't the only one who gets to have a gun.

Pomni gets to wield a shotgun too, and it's likely to help both herself and Kinger fight off whatever was after them in the hole.

Ghost possession and gun-slinging aside, I do think that Pomni and Kinger have a little heart to heart in this episode.

boy doesn't that screenshot look familiar. reminds me of episode 2 with the blue lighting and concerned expression on Pomni's face. That scene in the test room where Pomni comforts Gumigoo. this time tho, she's comforting Kinger. it almost makes me wonder if this will be a reoccurring theme, with all the other characters eventually having a heart to heart with Pomni, and Pomni comforting them.

it'd really make her live up to her quote in episode 2 "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anyone to feel like that".

the only thing I do still have questions about, is wtf is Kinger looking at here?

I mean, it looks like the eyes of a ghost, if they could make their eyes glow like that.

ya know what, maybe he's looking at a mound of pillows or something.

yeah, like that.

[jadeazora]

Honestly tho, the biggest reason I think Alastor could be redeemed is that he would be the biggest challenge for Charlie of the cast, the true test of who the hotel could really change if they spent that time there.

Sir Pentious was basically Hazbin Team Rocket in terms of the general respect he gets and once he realizes he has actual friends at the hotel, he's happy to work towards being a better person. Angel Dust is already showing signs of becoming a better person from the pilot, reaching down to comfort Charlie when she's upset before he pulls away, and he's more of a product of a bad environment and poor choices than anything. He also (unbeknownst to him) helped prove Charlie's point that people can change to the angels too. Husk was probably worse in the past as an Overlord, but had his pride pretty much squashed by being chained to Alastor. He's also comes off as "more in hell due to gambling addiction" than actually being all that bad a person either. He also helps steer Angel in the right direction, so he's not falling back into old vices. Cherri Bomb is a loyal friend, and while she does try to tempt Angel into his old habits and is a bad influence, there's signs of her mostly just thinking she's basically come too far since she's in hell now and thinking that "party girl who gives no fucks aside from living it up" behavior is just what everyone craves from her, going by her verse in ADDICT. (Niffty is kinda a blank, since she hasn't had a focus episode yet and has mainly just been comic relief.)

Then there's Alastor. Was a serial killer in life (tho I saw on the wiki that Viv compared him to Dexter, so perhaps only targeting criminals/other killers/bad people, and that he wasn't the sort who would prey on just anyone), feared Overlord in death who publicly tortured other Overlords over his radio broadcasts. Thinks redemption is complete bullshit, that it's way too late for all of them. Complete egomaniac. Also, shows signs of some decency tho, like protecting a helpless sheep demon girl from getting killed by a butcher. (He seems like he has a low view of those who go after the weaker fish.) Has a total meltdown after almost getting killed, but it's at least partly because he's realizing that he's started to form attachments to those at the hotel and how that's completely antithetical to the image he's established for himself.

I don't think he'd go to heaven, and I would be expecting a very rocky road for him ahead because I expect a betrayal from him in the future, but imo, if he survives the series, he'll become Charlie's steadfast hotelier for real.

[hyewka]

i NEED something with dom!taehyun 😣 i never see much of taehyun! even tho he's such a cutie 🤭

warnings: gagging, fingering, use of pet names, degradation kink but also praise from taehyun, squirting

note: he truly is a cutie, after lolla especially, lord 😵‍💫 it’s when he’s on stage do i find him the most attractive ..respectfully kang taehyun can gag me all night for all i care!!

Talked about this before but swear Taehyun would love having you choke on his dick, doesn’t matter how big he is, he’ll have you stay down to your nose squashed against his abdomen, his hands on the back of your head, gripping your hair of which your scalp is burning, gargling and teary eyed—with absolutely no emotion on his face. He keeps his composure, looking down at you, not having to be a man of many words for you to feel like dirt on his feet, a dirty whore only for his use, it’s so degrading and embarrassing… and you love it. When he lets you pull away from his dick out of your mouth, you cough up a storm, your vision near blurring trying to get your breathing back as you look up from your position, sprawled on the floor— and he smirks, the only emotion you manage to get out of him so far. Using his index finger to lift your chin up and meet his eyes, he pouts and you think he’d shoot you a praise to work with, “You couldn’t last just thirty more seconds?

“Dumb kitty.” Of course not. With his black framed glasses propped on the tip of his nose, his chin raised high like you truly were a dumb pet, the uncomfortable feeling of wetness welcomes itself between your thighs.

Likes the feeling of forcing fingers inside, spreading your lips so far apart you’re crying for him to stop, especially when he goes as far as to graze his teeth against your clit, the pain far too overwhelming. “Safe word angel, and I’ll stop.”

He says because he knows you like it all too much, the way the pain bleeds into the pleasure, you could barely tell the difference with it clouding your mind. When you don’t respond with what you agreed upon, he tries to force a third finger in, whispering with his mouth near the shell of your ear. “Know you can take one more princess, ease up.”

The painful stretch of three in you has you whimpering, legitimately all red in the face as you feel him move inside of you, adjusting his fingers, experimenting. “Good girl, look at your pussy swallowing in my fingers, it’s like you’re made for it.”

Also, definitely likes fucking in front of a mirror so he does have you actually look at the way his fingers disappear into your sopping cunt, then back out. If you’re lucky, could get a few more words from him, quiet groans from the back of his throat as he watches you fall apart on his fingers, “Fuck, so tight.”

Taehyun would have you naked from head to toe, while he’s still clothed, holding a vibrator against your clit to the point of overstimulation, your throat sore and your face ruined— mascara running down, your pupils blown out, hair plastered onto your forehead from sweat, nose runny and red. Has you squirting on the sheets, warm liquid spurting everywhere, embarrassingly making you mewl, your cheeks turning red, “I told you I had to go!” you whine into your arms, trying to hide your face while completely turning your body away from him. This was by far the most embarrassment you’ve felt; you feel like you’ve just ruined the mood.

But Taehyun…lord he’s a freak and do I die by that statement. Has his hands on your knees before completely spreading your legs for him. You don’t even know what he’s doing before you feel his nose against your clit, breath fanning against your skin. “Taehyun what-“

Not another word before the feeling of Taehyun’s tongue, warm wet muscle licking up your folds, drinking what he could get from your pussy like a starved man.

[f1nalboys]

Hey... Ya know what would be cool or whatever?

*Gently kicks rock with my hands in my pockets trying not to show how much I crave this*

If you'd make The Creature!Randy as a short story au yearning for Reader/Lisa... I don't know I think it be neat...Just saying.

spooky ur a GENIUS!!!!! have not stopped thinking abt this since i watched the movie and <3333333 randy is the perfect undead husband i fear to say!!! this is a little short and really just focuses on the beginning of everything, but i hope its enjoyable nonetheless!!!!

From The Grave - Randy Meeks

The Creature!Randy Meeks x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1025

WARNINGS: post death randy, the briefest description of corpse randy, mention of roadkill, nothing too graphic tho <3, reader is around randys age when he died but no specifc age is said, inspired by lisa frankenstein <3

His grave was tucked underneath a large willow tree, the branches hanging low and wide, hiding his lone headstone. You discovered it a few months ago on a warm spring afternoon as you carefully made your way through the abandoned graveyard in Woodsboro, stepping over gnarled roots and vines. The headstone was cracked, covered in moss and dirt, but you could just barely make out some of the writing on it as you got closer, your hand swinging by your side as the leaves of the tree shaded you from the sun.

“Randy Meeks. 1978-1997.” 

He was young, like you. Alone, too, if the state of his grave was any indication. Despite passing the other graves, all in similar states of disrepair, something about this one stood out to you. Maybe it was the fact you knew nothing of him; other headstones told you that buried deep in the ground was a husband, a wife, a child, but here there was nothing. Or, maybe, it was the fact that he was of similar age to you and was hidden away like you so often felt. 

Regardless, you spent the next hour carefully scraping the moss off of the stone with your finger and, when the grime became too hard to simply push off, with your pen. You didn’t have any water or soap and as you stand, wiping your hands off onto your jeans with a pleased smile at the progress, you resolve to come back tomorrow and finish cleaning it up. Sure, no one ever came through here, and the grass was as high as your knees in some parts of the cemetery, and you swore when you turned your back to his grave you could feel someone staring at you, but you were going to finish your job here. 

And so you did. The next day, bright and early, you clean up Randy Meeks’s headstone until it sparkles in the sunlight that broke through the gaps of the leaves. But then you come back the next day, and the next, and the next. For weeks, whenever you have the chance to, you make your way through the rusted iron fence and through the thick grass to him. 

Always to him.

You eventually wear down a path to his grave, the grass around the headstone itself squashed down from your constant pacing as you talk out loud. Talking helped clear your mind, and despite no response, you felt more seen and understood by him than you ever had before. You sometimes caught yourself pausing after a sentence as if waiting for a response and everytime you swore the wind would pick up and the leaves above you would rustle his answer.

Each time you left the cemetery, you’d write off whatever you felt in the moment and resign yourself back to your lonely existence. 

And then the strange storm happened. Dark, green, swirling clouds loomed in the sky above you, but they couldn't deter you. You made your way to the cemetery, rested your head on his gravestone, fingers tracing the etching of his name, and cried. Your whispers came out quick and harsh, cut off with random gulps of air, as you told him how you just wished you and he could be together. How your life was awful, how all you wanted was to be seen and loved and be treated how you knew he would treat you. 

You wanted to join him in death since he couldn't join you in life.

There was a crack of thunder, a flash of light, and when your eyes opened you were back home. You shake it off, sure you made your way home on auto-pilot. As you stumble through your routine to get ready for bed, you pause at the sound of a groan outside. Just as you turn your head to investigate, your front window shatters and a foul smell reminiscent of the decomposing fox on the side of the road you pass by everyday wafts in. Your hand covers your mouth and nose to stop from hurling just as he crawls through your window. 

After a few laps around your house, you sit across from him in your bedroom, staring at him wearily. “Who are you?” Is the only thing you can think to ask, though it doesn’t result in much. The man keeps grunting, getting increasingly more frustrated at your lack of understanding. He’s caked in mud and god knows what else, his eyes a bright blue. He can’t talk and you can’t understand him, but you swear you know him from somewhere. You run through the list of men you know, name after name, but he shakes his head after each one, his fingers drumming on his bent knee.

Eventually you stand and give him a notebook and a pen, hoping he can write. You watch as he takes it, his eyes focused on the paper in front of him, his tongue poking out from his lips as he concentrates. Finally, he looks up and meets your eye, an intensity in them you hadn't seen before. You take the notebook and look down, gasping quietly as you read the name.

“Randy?” You ask, eyes widening slightly as you look back towards him. He nods. “My Randy? From the graveyard?” Another nod and the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen him make yet. None of it makes sense. You knew that the real Randy Meeks had been dead for years but here he was in front of you. “Could you hear me? When I spoke to you?”

He nods his head once again, reaching his large hand out for yours. You grimace slightly at the feeling of the mud and viscera on his skin but you don't pull away. Instead, you watch with a morbid curiosity as he brings your hand to his undead lips, pressing them against your hand. Your hand tingles, a lightning bolt crawling up your arm. 

It was him. He was here for you. Somehow, someway, he clawed his way out of death to find you. 

It was the most romantic thing you could think of.

[signanothername]

I have a really stupid hc: nightmare takes better care of his minions than dream/ dreams actually really toxic. Like, yes he's the bad guy, but he takes really good care of his lackeys when they need help mentally and stuff, when dream is so focused on spreading positivity that he doesn't even realize he's hurting the others not caring for them and not letting them do basic things like eat and sleep properly

I’ve seen that headcanon around actually and I think it’s funny /pos

Like I love the idea of Dream being way too focused to realize the damage he causes while Nightmare has a better grasp on things

But also kinda gets into the shaky grounds of “asshole Dream” if not written well

I’m not really a fan of “bad guy” Dream, or the interpretation of Dream being that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care at all

The thing is, I’d love to see that headcanon actually be connected to the twins’ traumas, as I often see people portray them that way and only go for how Nightmare’s is kind and his trauma made him a better leader but Dream is just an asshole, and i’m here like.. WHY????

Like why make Nightmare a better written character just cause you sympathize with him? Why not sympathize with Dream too? Why is Dream’s trauma and the abuse he went through immediately ignored for the sake of making Nightmare kind? Making Nightmare the “better twin”?

Why not make both twins have both good and bad behaviors? Why simply reduce them to black and white?

Like I genuinely would enjoy the idea of Dream being toxic while showing that it’s not his intent, showing that he genuinely doesn’t mean to be toxic, it’s that his toxic behaviors are born out of how his trauma blinded him and how his actions are just the effect of a pre-existing cause, rather than just reducing Dream’s character to a bad guy or an asshole and that’s it y’know?

Like honestly toxic Dream for the win if it shows his vulnerability and how his trauma takes part of it

For me, when it comes to my own interpretation of Nightmare and Dream, I love to think of the opposite but only to an extent?

I like to think Nightmare would be abusive/toxic to his minions, but not to the point they collapse, (unless he was in a really bad mood and he had some sort of emotional outburst) but generally, he doesn’t care about what they do but he makes sure to make it clear that he expects them to eat and sleep and do whatever basics they need to do, as well as give them leisure/ down time for them to do whatever they want as long as they keep up, as he’s extremely practical and would not want to have them unfit for missions or plans he wants to carry (not out of the kindness of his heart but rather cause it would inconvenient him)

All while trying to show that Nightmare has a genuine sense of humanity (for a lack of better word) to him, show that he’s the way he is cause of the trauma he went through, show that he’s not all abusive and show that he has a kind side to him while showing how he squashes that kindness inside him due to trauma

While Dream is actually quite genuinely kind and loves helping people, and is genuinely trying his best to better himself every day, but is quite destructive to himself, he would not accept help from others, and feels the need to save others without saving himself, completely sacrificing his physical and mental health, and assuming he’s the only one who can fix things, a savior complex if you will, he’d work himself down to the bone without relying on his friends or anyone else, (this is a part of how he has his fallout with Ink in my interpretation) he’s too blinded to the fact others can share the weight with him

It’s completely unhealthy to his own self and by extension, he can appear overbearing and someone who gets his nonexistent nose into the business of others without considering their feelings or thoughts about it, and also appear as tho he thinks others are too incompetent to deal with either what he himself deals with, or what others deal with in their own lives, that he’s better than them in a way (it’s not his intent as he genuinely tries his best to be mindful of other’s feelings) but his self destructive behavior is something that Blue is trying to get through his thick skull, but Dream is too stubborn (a characteristic he ironically shares with Nightmare)

So I guess my interpretation of the two is the opposite to what is usually portrayed in the fandom, but I mean, there isn’t many interpretations I agree with in the fandom to begin with Hdhdhxhhd

[lazyjellyfishcreation]

SPN time travel au lets go

Supernatural time travel au where the world ends.

Chuck wrote a failsafe into the universe when he realized that Sam and Dean were getting too competent for their won good, so when Jack kills Chuck, the failsafe triggers and whipes everything out.

The only ones left standing are Jack, whom is the new god and therefore a little more powerfull then the rest, and Sam, because of a spell Rowena put on him. Before they both die, Jack tells Sam that they can still safe everyone by going back in time. If Sam can rally hell behind him, and Jack rally's heavens angels, they can together kill chuck. If Jack can transport them to before Chuck made the failsafe, they can make this right.

And thus, Sam dies, and then wakes up roughly 19 years in the past, on the day he's supposed to leave for collage. And he does. He recons that he only has a few weeks at most to rally all of hell behind him and he cannot do that with a 22 year old Dean hanging on his shoulder, trying to protect him. (not to mentions his shitty father whom is also there and holy shit Sam hasn't thought about him for a while, but his day just got from bad to worse)

Anyhow, he wakes up in cold sweat, trows up into the toilet, and tries his very hardest not to get weepy when he sees is 22 brother for the first time again. He's so young. He's practically a baby. His eyes are full of light and he hasn't seen hell yet. Hell, he doesn't even know hell exists yet. He's still innocent and the worst thing he's ever faced is Azazel. Sam would do anything to keep him that way.

So, he leaves. he tells dad about collage, they fight. Sam has to surpress his urge to punch is father out because holy shit the man is being childish, but he manages to get away after his father punches his instead. Dean comes between them and Sam almost laughs. He had forgotten that his father punches like a bitch. He's been tortured by the devil, he died like, 8 times. that was nothing.

he doesn't go to Stanford. Or well, he does, but only to see Jess. She doesn't see him, of course. Azazel told him she was doomed to die the second she laid eyes on him, and he will not let that slide. She's so young, so innocent. Still a child by all accounts. Sam almost feels like a creep. He was almost 40 by now, even though he doesn't look it. He still loves her, he always will, but he can't love her like he used to anymore.

He leaves campus without ever checking in. He was never there to begin with.

After finding and more or less recruiting the rest of the special children, It's surprisingly easy to take over hell.

Hell is a mess.

Crowly is sort of in charge, but not really, Hell has become a lawless land in Chucks relative absence. And well, by manipulating Azazel, and killing a few demons that are not with the program, he quickly establishes himself as king, with the rest of the special children as his generals. At once, they march onto heaven. He gives strict orders to only go for Chuck. Leave the angels be, Only kill god.

And they do. With the angels, demons, Jack and Sam working together, Chuck dies, and Jack takes over.

Sam himself starts revamping hell for it previous purpose: punishing the wicked. Not only that, but punishing them with severity to their crime. Sure, theft is a sin, but you shouldn't get tortured for forever just because you took a TV that wasn't yours, you feel me?

At this point, Azazel realizes that his was a bad idea, Sam is now ultimate ruler of hell and nothing is going as planned. First and formost, he has absoulutely refused to even go near the idea of becoming the vessel for lucifer, and secondly, he's powerfull enough to actually be king of hell without him. there have been several uprisings, but sam has squashed them all down with little effort.

it's starting to become concerning.

before he can do anything about it tho, sam straight up murders him. No drama, no fanciness, Sam just striaght up stabs him in the back "That's for ruining my life you sicko" and he's dead. He doesn't deserve better.

The demons that disagree with sam start to flee at that point. trying to usurp him isn't working, but if they regroup in the mortal world, sam would be too busy ruling hell to come after them.

But no, Sam makes a deal with Crowley, Crowley becomes his official regent and rules with Sam's rules in Sam's absence, and in exchange, Sam gets Crowley's soul, just to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid like take the power for himself or something.

So now that hell is fixed (he did that in like, roughly one earth year, so 12 hell years) he can go above ground, to kill the demons that are escaping to earth and thus terrorizing human mortals.

he quickly makes a name for himself in the hunter ranks. None of them understand how this 19 year old kid is able to kill this many demons in this little time, yet every time someone has a demon problem, it's Sam who shows up, and straight up kills them, which is notoriously difficult.

Some even claim that the demons seem to fear the youngest Winchester. One or two are spreading stories that a demon called Sam 'your majesty' but nobody believes that. And that's without speaking about the other people that seem to occasionally hover around, clearly his friends, but they seem to listen to him, like he is their leader.

All in all, the hunters aren't sure what to make of him.

And then the bunkers start showing up. Safehouses all accross the country, where hunters can relax, restock and heal from injuries. It's crazy. Nobody knows where the bunkers come from, but they seem old.

Meanwhile, John and Dean have no idea what is going on. John is being his antisocial self and none of the hunters have any rush to tell the volatile man that they all think his youngest son (his pride and joy that left them) has gone completely sideways and is now terrifying. They are straight up minding their business and just avoiding them like usual.

Bobby knows. Sam explained it to him, well part of it anyway. About hell, and god and the devil. Bobby didn't take his word for it at first, but when Sam showed him hell, it all became a lot more believable. He begs Bobby not to tell his brother and father. That this is his fight and he doesn't want his brother in this mess. Bobby promises.

I will write a part two with a reunion at some point, if you want me to tag you in it, reply to it!

[cabbagege]

Qestion-talking

Okaaay, I lied to you. That wasn't temporary post, it's permanent until I'll run out of stupid thoughts about Star Wars.

Another post, because I kinda like what happened previous time

Just a reminder that you're welcome with any topic or questions (In DM or comment section or whatever). Questions can be obvious, stupid, with impression that I don't know Star Wars lore (kinda true. But hey. Who cares?)

Cut Lawquane and his chip behavior. He probably doesn't know about it's existence, but it seems like he never experienced the effects of it. Of course, he never got Jedi near to him to have a thought about executing the order, but still he doesn't even have the thought about serving the Empire. Why? It's not because he is considered as MIA/KIA (chip would work anyways), not because he's defective (could be, tho), not because he got rid of that. Plot armor?(I assume that not every clone need to get the direct order to do something. Since 99, for example, never got the order, but still Crosshair was trying to act according to it. Wrecker got headaches, etc.)

Lightsaber colors. Ik, ik, colors were explained and added later, before that it was just technical part or actors wishes. But now I'm talking about canon/legend colors. Mace Windu has the purple one, which means, that he has some part of Dark Side in him (not bothering myself with copypasting the exact description) So, If we see it through the 'in canon Jedi know what color means what'. Why nobody side eyed Windu? The logic is "it's not red, so it's fine"?.

Could be that clones were having some troubles with differentiating normal people at first? I mean... They are living on Kamino for several years, knowing that there are different races with different faces, but they all look similar to them? Like — You all look similar. Bombastic side eye.

It's actually funny how Empire knows that they have deserters (clones or not) and they do... Nothing about that, but staring at datapad and scolding one of troopers? (Rampat core) This guy is potential rebellion, who can blow up the whole base, have a lot of information about how you work, because he was actually working on you, you spent big money on him and you just let him do shit? That's a plot twist that you're failing everywhere... Survival instincts of the squashed potato. (WHERE'S CODY???)

Kamino guardians ARE worse than Coruscant' and you're ready for that conversation. And it's not about the amount of work they have to do or smth like that. But they were raised on Kamino with other clones. They studied on Kamino with other clones. And with the hope of flew away from that planet to fight with other clones. They are babysitting. They are babysitting dozens of generations of other clones. Toddlers. Teenagers. It's like endless summer camp. What's your plate headshots count, Commandah?

I want at least one episode about those guys. (The Mandalorian, 1/8. They stole Grogu) Not the question. I demand. I like them, they are funny, don't let them go bald. (And Bode Akuna.) Which character/s you wish had at least one ep, without any reasons, just because? From anywhere

7. Which art you can't forgive me, for any reasons? We are not talking about comics, but any sketch, doodle, art.

[yurnu]

Can you talk about what you didn't like about hazbin? Am just curious, I didn't like the show that much either.

My main issues were the everything that brought up in episode was resolved in the same episode, the constant adding of characters, the fast pace of the first couple episodes (it got bit better done later on but still fast tho), unrealistic stuff like highly trained heaven amry v.s. a brunch of sinners that probably has no war experience. I think when we put it like that, we all know who gonna win.

Ejem ejem *Pull out a long list*

What I didn't like in the series is how Charlie is always trying to shove his ideals down the throat of anyone he comes across. He wants to redeem a bunch of human trash with no proof that it will work, he thinks about the sinners but doesn't think about how his victims who are in heaven will feel, or he doesn't think about the suffering of the hellborns. His people are the hellborns, not the sinners. If you want to help than help them, the Imps, hellborns, etc. Not the fucking sinners.

So I feel more than Charlie's ideal is a thing of wanting to feel morally superior. Since I feel like the typical spoiled rich girl who thinks she can talk and tell others how to live their lives.

The other thing I didn't like, at least for me, is the Chaggie. It feels like a cardboard couple.

Since what Vaggie feels is a BLIND devotion to Charlie due to her meeting her at a low point. And because of that his mind kind of catalogs her as a savior (there is an experiment about this where people have to cross a rickety bridge and get to the person at the end of the bridge).

What I also don't like is how they soften a lot of things about the sinners (but the Angel Dust and Valentino chapter is my favorite, they talk about abuse very well) as they somehow have to make the viewer empathize with some character.

What I also didn't like is that they make heaven look like the bad guy for not letting SINNERS into heaven. But sorry dear, those bastards had TWO chances to change and if they didn't take it it's their fault (when they were in life and purgatory/limbo).

I also don't like the typical bullshit that the young are right and the adults are wrong. I would believe you if the setting takes place on Earth or some fantasy place, But we are talking about HEAVEN and HELL.

And, like you, I don't like the supposedly highly trained army of heaven falling to puny sinners either.

And I also don't like how they make Lucifer as the victim of everything. You idiot, you ruined and doomed humanity, you took Adam's second wife away from him despite having Lilith, you sneered about it to Adam's face, you had Eve and Adam kicked out of Eden and forced to perish on Earth while you and Lilith had your asses squashed on your thrones inside a fucking castle.

And to top it all off, at the end of the season they sing. As if they hadn't killed the damned FATHER OF HUMANITY.

I hate this whole rending thing, if it were on Earth or in purgatory/Limbo I would let it go, but we are talking about the fucking HELL, HELL, where rapists, pedophiles, abusers, thieves, genocidal, homicidal, zoophiles, and a long etcetera go. We are not talking about light sins for which they go to Limbo for judgment, we are talking about hell where SERIOUS sins are, but that seems to be forgotten by most.

I have more, but it would be long enough.

[gibsongirled]

Schlatt with a gf who can cook and bake

He seems like the type to enjoy homecook meals. I like to think that she would sneak in veggies into his meals without him knowing. He never figured it out and she doesn't plan on him knowing

If he's doing long streams or editing, she brings him a snack she made

schlatt with a girlfriend who cooks and bakes !!

a/n: n/a

you LOVE to cook and bake

and give away your food to friends and family

the cook book that you bought is so worn out with dog earred pages

and some even having oil splatters on some of the pages

clearly it was well loved

schlatt doesn't really eat vegetables and that kinda shocked you

and you made it your mission to sneak some in his meals

that pasta dish that he loves? made with squash

sometimes it feels like trying to feed a child tbh

and you KNOW that he'll definitely be offended (jokingly) if you told him that you've been sneaking vegetables into his meals since you started dating

if you somehow ended up baking with leftovers

and schlatt was busy locked away in his office for the stream or editing

you'd peek in and hand him a plate of whatever baked goods you made

(you also sneak vegetables into your baked goods)

only sometimes tho

yall know those brownies with the spinach or something along the lines of that???

yeah basically that

but he's also a good cook too

tho he sucks at baking

date night sometimes includes staying in and cooking together

fun times

[pizzaapeteer]

hi pizzaa I have a question for you 💋 what characters do you ship yourself and your mutuals with? can be from anything not just the slytherin boys btw

also can I be 🐧 anon??

Hi lovely! Okie this is super cute!! also yes you so can! just need your age and preferred pronouns 🤍 Incase you didn’t see my post for you!

so Mattheo is my obvs choice for myself, he’s also like my only hyperfixation atm but I actually think I’d work well with one of the twins. the likelihood of Mattheo actually being into me is so funny tho cuz we’re very different so very opposites attract 👀 but I reckon we could bond over music and art (I imagine dreamily)

firstly I ship every mutual with me ofc 😌 but for characters;

@thatdammchickennugget 🛳️ w/ stiles stilinski for sure! You guys would be perfect and omg the dnd nights I know he doesn’t play in the show but low-key think he would love it with her! but he would so listen to you with a big cheese smile and he’s sing karaoke with ya! (Course I actually think you’d be perfect for all your favs)

@bloodstainedsapphic 🛳️ w/ Ellie Williams ofc. I can’t possibly pick or actually see anyone else. from what I know about Ellie (through your writing) she’s kind; caring a little reserved but happy to come out of her shell for you. And well I know how excited you get to try new things so she’d be easily convinced by your cute little face and energetic energy.

@jayybugg 🛳️ w/ Theo nott. Theo could match your wit and smarts like that🫰plus he can def settle your dramatic ass down with one look and an eyebrow raise. But I kind of also love the idea of one of the twins with you cuz your funny asf and need a dance partner.

@amongemeraldclouds 🛳️ w/ Theo ngl. (Enzo if he’s a softie but we know he ain’t) I just feel like theos calm demeanor would be so lovely with you and he 100% loves cats so he would love yours! plus he could just read or chill out while you paint and talk to you, I just think he’s a good listener 😌

@mattyriddlesbitch 🛳️ w/ Blaise zabini. Your blunt and sarcastic but kind hearted and nurturing so low-key Blaise works well to keep your sassy side in check, plus I reckon he would enjoy watching streams with you nodding along letting you sit in his lap!

@leona-hawthorne 🛳️ w/ Mattheo riddle, squash that boy like a bug, you’re so cutely fierce and chaotic I can see your energies vibing, plus I know how much you love horror the two of you would be so cute watching movies, though he might get jealous of all your book boyfriends 👀

@moonpascal 🛳️ w/ Remus lupin. I just feel like Remus would love listening to music or reading with you, and your a wee homebody so he’d just find comfort in spending quality time with you. Not to mention I feel like he’s a night owl so he’d stay up with you when you can’t sleep 🙂‍↕️

sorry I ofc didn’t do everyone; but if other mutuals want me to do them I can certainly try but I don’t think I’m very good at shipping people ☹️ but I had fun so thank you lovely anon for asking!!!