#i am not sure if i was articulate enough in here

[sraksha]

Oh my god.. Fuck-.. Hold on-... I gotta ramble....

You made a deal, and now it seems you have to offer up But will it ever be enough? (Raise it up, raise it up) It's not enough (Raise it up, raise it up)

Little Legend on his first quest, wielding the master sword, not knowing it wouldn't be the last time he needs to be the hero.

Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl Frozen in the headlights It seems I've made the final sacrifice

HIS INNER SELF IS A DEFENSELESS LITTLE RABBIT. Sure he's got an item for this and for that, but without his gear? All he's really got is his smarts and quick feet.

This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight

He is The Hero of Legend. Favored by the goddesses. But at what cost? He has faced so many hardships and lost so much from a young age, and yet he still goes out of his way to help those in need, no questions asked. He doesn't step up to the plate because he has to, but because he wants to. That's just who he is.

I look around, but I can't find you (raise it up) If only I could see your face (raise it up) Instead of rushing towards the skyline (raise it up) I wish that I could just be brave

MARIN. KOHOLINT. Need I say more???

I must become a lion hearted girl Ready for a fight Before I make the final sacrifice

Legend building up his walls to shield himself. Don't let people in, because it will only hurt in the end.

AAAAAAA ASDFGJHGK I CAN'T ARTICULATE BUT YOU GET WHAT I'M ON ABOUT, YES??

I AM FEELING SO MANY THINGS RIGHT NOW. BLESS YOU FOR LETTING ME KNOW ABOUT THIS SONG!

Oh rabbit, my claws are dull now so don't be afraid I could keep you warm as long as you can just try to be brave Young Heretics – I Know I'm A Wolf

[writethatdown]

forgive me this is just another one of those moments trying to find greater meaning out of trivial things but, but, but — i lost my retainer at a restaurant when i was visiting a friend and right when i realised my teeth are naked we rushed back at 11pm (no avail) and then again at 5am on the next day and they let us search the trash which was unpleasant and smelly and the food was rotting. we found some gloves and started taking the trash apart inch by inch and when we were 60% through, my friend gleed in so much happiness, took out my retainer, and shouted “god is great”. we were very grateful to the employees and just for everything in life. the sun was just coming out like some symbolism to our achievement.

we were walking and she said “we knew it was definitely in the trash, we would regret and lose our peace if we didn't atleast attempt to find it”.

i almost threw up standing too long to the trash can. and i am sure she felt the same, experiencing this not even for her own cause. and i know we would have searched through the waste twice before giving up and booking another appointment for a retainer.

i keep thinking to myself — what if all good things in life are like a retainer on a restaurant’s trash can? god it is going to suck to find it. but we know it's in there. we just need to be persistent enough.

[dossei-dossei]

how deal with taidan

[mochabonesblog]

I'm not sure people realise just how important this second of television is.

Showing a person in a wheelchair crossing her legs. Using her legs.

After what rtd said about davros and rose in the unleashed episodes, this was 100 percent done on purpose.

When I go out in a wheelchair I am terrified to make it noticeable that I can use my legs. Because ... well we all know why and I'm not really articulate enough to go into everything.

But this. This right here. I doubt anyone who uses a wheelchair didn't have a doubletake. A glimmer. A KNOWING about just how important this tiny, insignificant action was.

And I'm fucking here for it

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I keep rewatching that epilogue scene and, the way Hunter and Omega talk about her joining the Rebellion... You can tell this is not the first time they're having this conversation. And I just can't help but wonder what the previous one(s) must have looked like.

Because something tells me it wasn't peaceful.

I just can't imagine Hunter having any other reaction than an immediate, definitive "absolutely not" the first time he hears about Omega wanting to join the Rebellion. Just like I can't imagine Omega being okay with that reaction.

Were they arguing about it? Were they butting heads and not backing down from their respective points? Because they would. Absolutely, they would.

Did their brothers have conversations with both of them separately? Did Wrecker tell Omega to give Hunter a break because he's old and worried? Did Crosshair convince Hunter that he can't keep a grown woman grounded just because he's scared about her? Did Echo tell him that if this is Omega's calling, he has to let her do her thing?

She tried to sneak off. As if she didn't want to go through this again. As if she thought leaving without a goodbye would be easier on everyone and this way no one can stop her. After all, she made up her mind. She's going. But when she turns the light on and spots Hunter sitting there, she's not even surprised. She nods to herself like of course. Of course he's here.

This literally sounds like they've been over this before. But this time the conversation is surely more peaceful. They both have the other's perspective in their minds now.

This is my choice and I know it scares you but I need you to understand.

I know I won't change your mind but I don't want you to go, I want you to be safe.

This must have been said before as well. Maybe in anger. Maybe in pleading. Or desperation. I wouldn't be surprised if Omega got very frustrated with Hunter for treating her like she's still a kid. Nor would I be shocked if Hunter had trouble articulating his point of view in all his worry and panic. But here, it's a confession. It's very vulnerable. It's the truth Hunter doesn't want to hear and gives a reason why.

Omega is a grown woman now. Skilled, capable, brave. Hunter doesn't doubt that. But to him, she's always going to be his little girl no matter how old she is and I am still speechless at the fact that we actually see him not only struggling with it but also admitting to it.

Back on Pabu, after they escaped Tantiss, Hunter told her: "We've all fought enough battles for one lifetime." And now, years later, Omega echoes this back to him. "You've all fought enough." Almost like she's reading Hunter's mind and knows that if he can't stop her, he's going to want to join her.

The way he wants to reach after her here when she gets up. Like he wants to say wait, no, don't go yet!

But this is her fight, just like she says. She's never been able to sit still, we know that, we've seen that. Just like Echo back in season 2, she can't stand the thought of staying down and doing nothing when there are people out there fighting for freedom. People she can help. She's a skilled pilot now (I can bet she'll become most famous in the Rebellion for her flawless Tech-Turn), she has absorbed everything her brothers have taught her over the years like a sponge and now she wants to use that. After years of living away from the fight, she's finally ready to get back out there and make a difference in the galaxy. Fight for peace because that is her calling.

She's ready, but Hunter is not.

You can tell it's literally tearing him apart to watch her go. That's his baby, the whole reason he's living the life he has now. He gave his blood, sweat and tears so she could grow up safe and happy and away from the Empire's clutches. And now she's going back right into them, willingly.

But she's all grown up. And he has no choice but to let her go do her thing. So he holds her close and I don't doubt sends out a prayer that she comes back to him safe and in one piece. He closes his eyes and commits the feeling to memory because who knows when will be the next time he gets to do this?

And it might be destroying him inside but he's so damn proud. And he knows she's got this. She doesn't need her old man to watch her back anymore.

And yet still this old man, with gray in his hair and beard, this old man whose posture is hunched and who is moving slowly and having difficulty standing up because of his accelerated age, is telling his very grown up and very capable daughter that if she needs him, he's going to pick up his blaster, don the armor and join her in the fight.

Because that's what fathers do.

[sanspuppet]

dom!hwa with his low voice whispering dirty words into your ear while pleasuring you during a long night… (yes i’m down bad ever since i heard his rap in matz😵��💫)

W/T: fingering, pet names (pretty, darling), unprotected sex (don’t)

A/O: happy to see im not the only one down for him so bad lately, wtf??? he’s so fucking gorgeous in this comeback. ALSO I LOST HALF OF THE WORK because of a glitch and i was annoyed as fuck, but i tried to write it all again, hope you like it anon! thanks for the request :3

• not proofread cause here’s late and im too tired to function properly

“Come on baby, i know you can take more than this.” Seonghwa’s laying on your body, lips near your ear as his hand’s playing with your clit. It’s been a long hour since you’re a whimpering mess, while your boyfriend’s trying to pleasure you. That’s right, he’s trying. You haven’t cum yet, and it’s driving you crazy, feeling Seonghwa’s fingers diving into your pussy but still haven’t creamed around them. “Why the fuck aren’t you cumming?” he whispers at you, a slight tone of frustration and disbelief in his voice. He’s surely more frustrated than you, you can tell it because he starts uncontrollably to exasperate. “Why? Want me to add another finger? Four fingers??”

“Should i eat you out?” “Aren’t my fingers enough for you?” you can’t deny that his whingy voice is incredibly hot, reminds you of his groans he emits while he uses to fuck you dumb. He buries again three fingers inside your pussy, sliding in and out of you faster than he did before. The sound of his palm slamming against your clit is booming inside your head. Hwa squeezes his eyes as he feels his arm burning from how quickly he’s finger fucking you, and his waist hurting as you’re gripping at it harshly, your fingertips diving into his skin. He sticks his tongue out when he feels your walls getting wetter, sighing proudly. “Is this what you want? Want me to fuck you harder?” you moan desperately, arching your back as he pulls out, your folds clenching around nothing but the air. “Keep talking” is the only thing you can articulate. “Huh?” Seonghwa rubs his index finger against your inner walls, playing with your wetness. “Is it because of my voice?” he slides out, licking joyfully your arousal off of his finger. “Yeah, fuck-“ you murmur. He intentionally groans lowly at your ear, secretly smirking as he replies you: “Didn’t know it” you bite your lower lip, your mind getting blurry from the way your body reacts to his voice. “Fuck, you always taste so good, pretty.” He leans in for a deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You can’t even know how fucking hard i am” You can feel his gaze moving down your body. “Wanna ruin your pussy with my own dick.” whimpers keep leaving your mouth, wanting to feel him inside you more than anything else. “Wanna fuck you so hard, that i won’t need to stretch out your pussy before fucking you.” He gets up, and immediately positions himself between your legs. “Gonna make you cum so quickly, pretty.” his cock pops out as he drags his pants down, without even waiting a second he pulls his length inside your wet cunt, another groan escaping his mouth as he feels the warmth of your pussy embracing his dick. “Fuck, so tight.” he murmurs. You moan loudly, clenching helplessly around him. “Yeah, shit. Keep doing it darling.” Seonghwa holds your legs when he starts to slide in and out of you. He throws his head back as he tries to concentrate on the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock without any problems.

“Ready? Imma fuck you senseless tonight.”

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

[sleepytoycollection]

One Way to Repair a Broken Doll Arm

Today I'll be walking you through how I repaired this Ever After High Lizzie Hearts doll's broken arm. While I wouldn't call this a fool-proof method, and I'm not sure that this repair would hold up to being played with, if you've got a beloved doll you want to repair, this should be just fine for a doll that's mostly going to be displayed.

The best part is, this will retain the articulation of the arm and/or knee (this method will technically also work for knee joints, though knees are harder than arms to work with). So let's jump in.

Tools required: Craft Knife, Jewelry pliers, Wire (gauge depends on size of joint), Super Glue, Hot Glue, Patience.

Let's start with our patient.

I thrifted this Lizzie doll a few days ago, along with a Venus McFlytrap, as shown in the above image. As soon as I saw the taped up arm, I knew the joint was broken, but hey, she was like 80c USD. I can apply some elbow grease for that cheap. Plus it gives me an excuse to finally make this tutorial.

They went a little overkill with that much tape, but whatever works?

I cut the tape off carefully with a craft knife. I didn't take a pic of that, but I think you can image what a broken doll arm looks like. Unless you have aphantasia I guess, but that's getting off topic.

First thing I did was use the craft knife to slice along the seam lines, then pried the upper arm open (slowly. seriously go slow.) with a pair of jewelry pliers. It will leave marks on the plastic, but I can buff those out later.

Why am I doing this if the arm's already broken? I want to remove what's left of the peg that's in there. You could also drill it out if you have a dremel, but I wanted to avoid this tutorial needing power tools.

So here's the arm, pried open, with the peg removed.

To close it back up, I used a tiny bit of acetone to melt the plastic at the seams, then held it together until it hardened enough to stay in place. Leave it for a few hours to make sure it's all fully cured, then you can sand the area smooth.

And here's the arm with the broken peg.

So what now? We need to remove the peg piece that's attached to the elbow. I couldn't get a photo of that since it's a delicate process and I only have 2 hands, but here's an artist rendering that would give you the idea.

Take a craft knife, and SLOWLY. CAREFULLY. cut into the ring that surrounds the elbow joint. YOU DO NOT WANT TO GO TOO DEEP, TOO QUICKLY. YOU DO NOT WANT TO ACCIDENTALLY CUT THROUGH THE ELBOW POST. Just go nice and slow. Just chip a little out at a time until you get to the center.

Use pliers as well to pull out the rest of the bits, though you might have to cut a good bit out before you can pull the rest out.

As for my doll, the operation went successfully.

This is what the elbow looks like with the joint peg removed.

Now we've gotten past the hard part, we'll cut off a few inches of wire and string that though the elbow joint. Once through, we'll twist it until it's reasonably tight to the joint. If that makes sense.

It should look like this. Give it a test fit and cut the wire shorter as needed so there's no gap in the joint.

My test fit. Yep, I recycled this for the top photo as well. The blue is just painter's tape.

If you find you can't get it tight enough, and it feels too loose, I'd add a drop a super glue in there. Just keep moving the joint as the glue dries, and it'll add some friction so your arm will hold a pose.

Speaking of glue, I also add a dab of hot glue to the top of our new peg. The coating will add thickness that will help it stay in the upper arm. Tape works too, but hot glue holds up better.

Here's our newly repaired arm back on the doll. Aside from a slight glimmer of silver, the repair is not very obvious I think.

Lizzie can now enjoy having two functional arms again. Whoo-hoo.

While not 100% a beginner repair, it's not particularly difficult either. Just takes some patience and a reasonably steady hand.

Before I go though, some disclaimers/notes: Some wires can rust overtime, so keep an eye on your doll to make sure the wire isn't degrading and discoloring them.

Also, if you do a repair like this, then sell the doll, do let the buyer know. I feel like I shouldn't have to say that, but don't be one of those sellers okay?

This same method can be used for knees, but thighs tend to be made of a harder plastic, and it can be more difficult to pry them open to take the old, broken peg out with out major damage to the upper leg.

Good luck with your repairs! Love y'all. c:

[sparklemaia]

Heyyy!!

So I've recently read a lot of your comics about top surgery, and I really resonate with your experience (I haven't had it myself but I'd like to). I've recently been exploring my own gender and realising I might be non binary, but I guess I feel sort of an imposter in that I want to keep my name and pronouns (afab), despite feeling like I never got the memo about what a "woman" is, which I know is fine, but I guess I was wondering how the shift from your agab into realising you were nb felt?

Like, you seem to describe your gender as sort of unknowable and indefinable, and I guess that's sort of how I feel? I just want to be... More me. I guess what I'm really asking is, how would you define/feel about that shift into realising you were nonbinary, do you still feel connected to your agab, how do you reconcile the two?

Sorry for the long ask!

Hi, this is such a good question! I actually DO still feel pretty connected to my agab. I feel like I am a girl but also more than a girl but also not enough of a girl, simultaneously. (Weirdly, I never ever feel like a woman, and definitely not a man, but I do feel like an adult at least some of the time.) Top surgery was 100% the right decision for me; my body feels so much more correct and I am grateful every single day this procedure was accessible to me. (I was on a low dose of T for a year and a half too, and I basically just got biceps and a sliiiightly lower voice out of it. We stan.) I simply don't have strong feelings about how these things do or do not map onto gender identity or other people's perceptions of my gender. I am generally perceived as female, and that's fine! Like, close enough! I often feel somewhere BETWEEN cis and trans, or even between cis and nonbinary, and sometimes I joke that I'm just "nonbinary for insurance purposes." I mostly use she/her pronouns, although won't object to they/them. I like my "feminine" name -- I chose it myself years ago for reasons unrelated to gender and I have no plans to change it again. In terms of gender presentation I'm usually somewhere in the "tomboy femme" zone. Basically, I've been through a medical transition but not a social transition. Which is not very common, or at least I haven't seen much representation of it! (Be the bad trans representation you want to see in the world, i guess??)

Even though the words are often used interchangeably, I feel more alliance to genderqueer as a label than nonbinary, because nonbinary feels too clinical and "third checkbox"y to me, whereas genderqueer feels more expansive and undefinable and dynamic, with space for the ways in which I both am and am not performing girlhood correctly. When pressed to pick a gender word for myself, that one feels the closest. But if I'm filling out a government form or whatever? Yeah sure F is fine.

A lot of where I land with this stuff, though, is just kind of relaxing my grip on language. Top surgery was a relief, it helped me feel present in and connected to my body. Ultimately it doesn't matter much to me how much of that was *gender* dysphoria and how much of it was just... something I wanted, a way to make my body feel more like mine, to align my mental image of myself with the thing I had to stuff into clothes and walk around the city every day. I believe very strongly in bodily autonomy, and in making our lives as easy and comfortable and joyful as we can for ourselves, without needing to have a clean and tidy explanation for our choices. It is very possible to know with reasonable certainty that you want something, that it will be a net positive for your life, without being able to articulate, even to yourself, WHY you want it. It doesn't need to have a bigger meaning than ahh yes, this feels right. At this point in my life, I'm more invested in marveling at the sheer improbability of my own existence than in wedging myself into the taxonomy of known and acceptable gender narratives. I'm just a person, here for the merest twinkle of a moment in cosmic history, making soup and knitting baby hats and admiring bugs and singing off-key and cutting my own hair and doing my gosh darn best to light my tiny patch of night sky with stories so that you (and you, and you) feel less alone on your own journey through the unfurling dark. Gender is just such an inconsequential detail in the narrative of my life, and pretty open to reader interpretation anyway.

Not having to wear bras is pretty great though ngl

[solarmorrigan]

The crack of thunder is loud enough to jolt Steve awake, and for a moment his sleep-clouded eyes search the room wildly for the threat, for whatever woke him, before another peal of thunder seems to roll the tension right out of him.

“Shit,” he sighs, relaxing back into the mattress. “Big one.”

“Yep,” Eddie says tightly from where he’s sitting up against the headboard beside him.

Steve squints up at Eddie in the dim light of the bedside lamp (which Eddie has no plans to turn off, despite the fact it’s gone past two AM). He’s clearly not quite awake, but something in Eddie’s tone has pinged in his brain, and he’s trying to work it out.

Another crash of thunder rattles the house and Eddie can’t help it – he jumps.

It’s small—maybe more like a twitch—but Steve catches it. He always does.

Frowning, Steve reaches out and soothes a hand up the top of Eddie’s thigh, stopping at the bend of his hip and rubbing circles with this thumb.

“Hey,” he says softly, half muffled by the pillow. “Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, hunching over the book in his lap that had been an adequate distraction until the storm had rolled right overhead.

“Not a fan of thunderstorms, I guess,” he admits, lowly, because he’s kind of embarrassed, but willingly, because he knows Steve won’t give him shit – not for something that really upsets him.

“No?” Steve asks, still looking up at Eddie through his lashes, still not entirely awake and an invitingly soft distraction from the rain spattering the window like bullets.

“Nah.” Eddie shrugs again.

Steve hums—a short, distracted sound—and leans in to press a kiss to Eddie’s hip. Then he’s sitting up and stretching with a sharp intake of breath before draping himself over Eddie’s side, kissing his shoulder and looking up at him with expectant eyes.

I’m awake now, he’s saying. You can talk to me.

And Eddie knows he can – and Eddie would, except he’s never really had to put into words why he—Eddie Munson, champion of chaos and discord—has never liked thunderstorms. He’s never had to articulate how the trailer walls had never felt thinner when he was a kid than when a storm was furiously beating at them, or how all the noise and destruction had been something totally out of his control.

Wayne is the only one who really knows, and Wayne had just gotten it. He’d started playing music for Eddie when those Midwestern spring storms started rolling in – and maybe Eddie didn’t love thunder and lightning, but that had been how he’d fallen in love with the idea of making music.

There, at last, had been a form of noise and chaos that Eddie could control and wield for himself.

But it’s late, and Eddie is strung out and wrung out and it doesn’t feel like he has the energy for that conversation.

“Never really liked them when I was a kid,” he says instead. “And then after all the shit with the Upside Down, I think it was the final nail in the coffin.”

Steve makes a little wounded noise, maybe at Eddie’s phrasing, maybe just in sympathy, and he turns his head to press a kiss to the side of Eddie’s throat.

“Anyway, it’s stupid, and I can deal with it. You can go back to sleep,” Eddie says, very much aware that he’s clutching one of Steve’s hands as he does so.

“Not stupid,” Steve says. “I’ll go back to sleep if you lay down with me.”

Eddie sighs. “Steve…”

“I’m serious. Hit the light and lay down with me.” Steve kisses Eddie’s neck again, twice, three times, trailing up to the hinge of his jaw, where he murmurs, “Trust me.”

And Steve is a bastard, because Eddie can’t say no to that, so with another (greatly put-upon) sigh, Eddie leans over to put his book on the nightstand and then, after just a moment of hesitation, he turns out the light.

The storm wastes no time in reilluminating the room with flickering lightning, followed by another crash of thunder.

But Steve’s hands are on Eddie, warm and sure, and he’s telling him come here and then pulling him nearer like he can’t wait.

Eddie lets himself be rearranged without complaint and finds himself lying face to face with Steve, legs tangled, arms caught between them, their foreheads brushing. He can feel Steve’s breath against his lips when he begins to speak.

“When I was a kid, I loved thunderstorms,” Steve says, voice soft.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, the word feeling small in the scant space between them.

“Yep,” Steve says. He takes one of Eddie’s hands and pulls it to his chest, pressing it flat there where Eddie can feel the beat of his heart, calm and steady. “My favorites were the ones just like this. Loud and strong, in the middle of the night.”

Frankly, Eddie can’t imagine a worse type of thunderstorm, listening to the deluge falling on the roof of the tiny house he and Steve share, his body practically rattling along with the windows when thunder booms overhead.

Still, he dutifully asks, “Why?”

Steve is quiet for a moment, still collecting his words.

“The world didn’t feel as empty, when there was a storm outside,” he finally says. “If there was noise, it didn’t feel like I was alone.”

It’s a much more thoughtful admission than Eddie was expecting, much more somber, and he’s not quite sure what to say. He presses a little closer to Steve, nudging their foreheads together.

Another rumble of thunder passes over them, still so loud that Eddie can feel it in his bones, and Steve sighs like he’s perfectly content.

“I liked that, too,” he says. “When you could feel the thunder in your chest like a second heartbeat. Like there was someone there with me.”

Eddie finds Steve’s free hand with his own and squeezes.

“I think I just forgot after a while. Or maybe it wasn’t enough. When I got older, I went out and surrounded myself with people instead. The noise at a really big party felt like a storm sometimes.” Steve gives a subdued little laugh. “But when I was a kid… just this was enough.”

“What about now?” Eddie asks, practically whispering, just loud enough to be heard over the percussion of the rain.

Steve tilts his head forward until their lips meet, sweet and certain.

“This will always be enough,” he says when they part.

He doesn’t go far; their foreheads are still pressed together, their noses are still brushing, hands and arms and legs are still tangled like Steve wants to pull Eddie inside of himself so he can feel the storm the way Steve does.

So Eddie closes his eyes and he tries.

He and Steve lay there quietly, listening as the storm finally begins to pass from over their heads. It isn’t great—it’s loud, it’s violent, it’s nerve-wracking—but Eddie never has to check to know that Steve is still awake, still with him, keeping Eddie’s hand pressed to his steady heartbeat.

Eddie doesn’t start to magically enjoy the storm. He’s not sure he ever will. But – for the way Steve loves them, for the way they had given him comfort for so many years, Eddie thinks he might just be able to make his peace with them.

[Prompt: Touching foreheads]

[vasyandii]

I'm kicking my feet I love your oc Vernon! Let me pry though: have Vernon and AM ever kissed, or will they ever kiss? Also does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him or when she touches him, like in your art of her using him as an AC LOL

AAAAH Howdy howdy!! I'm so glad you like Vernon as I've worked real hard on her! Thank you so much for the ask! 💞💞 I will be answering these in reverse order!

VernonAM 🏺🖥️

Does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him/when she touches him?

I like to believe AM's come a long way with being touched. When he first transferred his consciousness over to his body, it was sensory overload. The WORST kind.

Everything was too loud, too quiet, he could smell EVERYTHING, everything was too hot, too cold, not hot enough, his mouth felt dry even with the saliva he had, how much it hurt feeling the air in his lungs, HE COULD FEEL HIS EYEBALLS IN HIS SKULL. It was like being born, it was awful. Like Nietzsche said; "To live is to suffer."

Vernon sat him down, trying to calm him since this is technically the first "human" she's seen after 109 years.

AM could feel every fold of his clothing rubbing against his skin, every microscopic fibre stabbing his skin. The residual warmth from Vernon touching him to sit him down so he wouldn't collapse caused AM to start screaming, sobbing.

Because he had no mouth (roll credits) prior to this, he didn't know how to use it to form words. He couldn't articulate what was wrong in his fit of screaming and tears.

And so his body went limp not 10 minutes after. He got out of there, telling Vernon that it's the closest thing he could compare to the torture he put on the other five. Vernon had to convince him to come back again or she'd tear the damn body apart and eat it.

It took months, baby steps of getting him adjusted in being a man. They spent weeks on smell, touch, and heat before they would even consider movement. It was tough on Vernon's end, smart as she is, she's a terrible teacher, asking AM to leave her alone for a few hours or days, lashing out when he's in such a vulnerable state.

But Vernon persisted, and finally AM got to hold her comfortably. Fast forward to now, AM has grown quite fond of the sensation of touch and touching things just for the sake of it. They could be sitting and he'd have it so their shoulders are touching.

AM is fond of Vernon's touch, that's the only time she's gentle (despite her words) with anything that might have the possibility of breaking. He enjoys her softness and warmth; How protective she is of him. AM can't articulate genuine care since his hatred for humanity is still there, but he's grateful, even despite his taunts.

Have AM and Vernon ever kissed? Will they ever kiss?

They kiss often, those two degenerates. It almost makes me jealous how often they kiss (D1 hater over here).

Vernon's technically kissed him before, just to get him comfortable, but it's never on the lips or near his face, usually his wrists and knuckles. Exposure therapy along with affection, basically. He didn't try to kiss her back until he was fully prepared to.

After fully adjusting to his new body, AM was finally able to kiss Vernon. He wasn't very good at it his first attempt. It was more similar to AM headbutting Vernon than an actual kiss.

Having a body gave way to a new emotion; embarrassment. Since he's now technically on the same level as her (in height as well, he's a lil dude) he was embarrassed that his first attempt didn't go as planned. When he didn't have a body, there was nothing to be judged, but now he does.

After brushing it off as him being curious and just feeling like headbutting her, AM didn't attempt to kiss her on the lips until he was sure he was ready.

Their proper first kiss was quite nice.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my mad man words! I tend to ramble a ton, so if there's anything you'd like for me to clarify, feel free to tell me!

[itischeese]

Expanding on the Obito-is-smart-actually-he's-just-stupid-around-Kakashi AU from here, because it haunts me and I have many thoughts about it. (Note: while most of that can be interpreted as headcanon, and is an explanation of canon events, this post goes into an actual AU version, where canon events aren't followed, because I am gay and sad and cannot take it anymore.)

Normal Obito has an Actual Plan of things he wants to do when he becomes Hokage, including making sure no one clan can be discriminated against in law, building trade relations with other shinobi nations to create actual lasting alliances not built on war (like Kakashi post-canon lol), and actually doing something about the Hyuuga hierarchy stuff, with the help of Hiashi and Hizashi, who he's already created a sort-of-alliance with.

Obito-around-Kakashi is completely unable to articulate this, and instead ends up blurting out things like "fancy hat" and "people will like me," and looking like an indecisive fool who doesn't know what he's doing. Everyone who's interacted with Obito outside of Kakashi believes he can do it, and would do a good job. Unfortunately, Obito spends A Lot of time around Kakashi, including interacting with Most People, so the number who believe he'd make a good Hokage is... distressingly small.

One would think that, given he was able to function and activate a two-tomoe sharingan when Kakashi wasn't looking, he would be able to dodge the boulder fine while Kakashi was knocked out. Unfortunately, he'd just grabbed Kakashi to throw him out of the way, and without Protecting Kakashi being a direct motivator, holding Kakashi in his arms, even just to throw him out of the way, is enough to make Obito's brain stall completely for long enough to get canon'd.

Rin survives becoming a jinchuuriki because Obito trips and crashes wildly into the clearing when he sees Kakashi, and incidentally he ends up crashing into Rin just before she can jump in front of chidori. Unfortunately, Kakashi sees Obito and gets distracted long enough for an enemy to land a blow, and Obito, intelligence fully impaired by proximity to Kakashi, thinks Kakashi is dead. Mangekyo-activation and nigh-instantaneous death of every enemy shinobi in the vicinity ensues. And then Rin heals Kakashi. Because he's Not Dead.

The combination of passed-out Kakashi and Must-Protect-Precious-People allows Obito to tell Rin that Kushina's a jinchuuriki too (he got suspicious bc of the floating hair, and Kushina humored him when he asked), and her and Minato should be able to do something about the seal of the Sanbi. Needless to say, she's rather happy to stay alive and not have to horrifically traumatize one of her precious people.

[cutieebabyy]

avoidance - k.b

summary: y/n and katsuki are best friends, but what happens y/n suddenly realizes her feelings for him and ends up avoiding him, thinking he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings?

(happy ending. suggestive ending.)

catching feelings for katsuki was never on my bucket list. for some apparent reason, my heart chose him. my best friend out of all people. am i crazy for loving him? even though he’s immensely flawed and incredibly rude at times, i find myself enamored with him.

katsuki has never been one for affection, but sometimes he’ll leave me some leftovers of the food he made the night before with a note on it, telling me to eat it before it goes bad. oh, and that time when he got kidnapped by the league of villains and he slept with me in my room for days. there’s also that time when everybody thought we were dating and he didn’t deny it.

am i foolish enough to slightly believe he’s got some sort of feelings for me? probably.

sometimes i catch him staring at me when he tutors me and i notice his walls crumbling, but when he realizes i’ve caught him, he immediately looks away. so, maybe he’s not totally in love with me?

whether he is or not, i cannot be the one to confess and suffer from the possibility of being rejected. so, instead of coming clean about my feelings for him, i avoid him.

i give him the cold shoulder. and i know he notices. or, well, i hope he does.

and i thought it was going amazing. i mean, i avoided him for weeks! although, it was kind of awkward when we ended up in the common rooms alone. or on the rooftop. or on the training grounds.

unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

i’m currently in my dorm, taking some notes with some soft music playing in the background. music helps me concentrate and without ‘suki, i desperately need anything that’ll help me pass this stupid exam.

a knock snaps me out of my thoughts. maybe it’s mina coming to get her headphones back. she accidentally left them here the last time we had a sleepover.

knock.

she knocks again and i sigh. “gee, i’m going!”

when i open the door, mina bakugo stands at my door. he exhales a shaky breath, looking back at me. he looks shocked i even opened the door. unfortunately, i didn’t even know it was him. had i known, i wouldn’t have opened it, no matter how much i truly missed him.

“y/n.” he pushes his way past me and takes a seat on my bed. i scoff, crossing my arms against my chest. “sure, come on in.” i mutter sarcastically, shutting the door behind me.

“what are you doing here, katsuki?” i ask.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” thank you, sherlock holmes. “why?” he runs a hand through his hair, gazing up at me with those crimson eyes.

i shrug. “just needed space.”

“from me?” my heart breaks at the vulnerability in his voice and i instantly regret avoiding him. katsuki has always had a hard time articulating his emotions and even more expressing them, so for him to let his walls down and show me the genuine despair just proves how much he cares for me. “did i do something? look, i’m sorry for giving deku crap again, he jus—“

“it’s not that, ‘suki, and no, you didn’t do anything. i promise.”

“then, what is it? please, help me out here, y/n, because i’ve never felt this way before and i—“ he inhales sharply, rubbing his hand over his chest. i crumble at the sight. i hurt him. in hopes of not getting my own heart broken, i hurt his and now i’ve hurt my own, too.

“oh, ‘suki.” i make my way over to him and wrap my arms around his neck. his head rests over my stomach and he sighs. “tch, i missed you, idiot.” he looks up at me, his ears tinting pink.

“i know. i’m sorry. i missed you.” i rake a hand through his hair. “i just—“

“you just what, hm?” he hums.

“i can’t say it. you’re going to hate me.”

“i could never hate you, y/n.”

a few moments pass of us staring at each other before i decide to finally blurt it out. “i’m in love with you.”

“is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he pauses. “‘cause you’re in love with me?”

i bite the inner corner of my lip. “uh-huh.” my hand tightens around his hair, but he doesn’t pay any mind to it— not even a wince.

“you idiot.” my heart stops. “i’m in love with you, too. if you’d just told me instead of being a scaredy cat, you’d have known that.”

before i can reply, he reaches up, curls a hand around the back of my neck, and smashes his lips onto mine. he doesn’t waste any time, forcing his tongue into my mouth. i gasp before biting down on his lip. he growls, pulling away from me. “you just made me bleed?”

i don’t apologize nor do i look away from the blood oozing from his bottom lip. “i love you, ‘suk.”

“yeah, yeah. love ya more, brat.”

i chuckle, crashing my lips onto his again, toppling down on the mattress with him.

by the time we’re done, i can’t even remember why i ever avoided him in the first place.

[dieinct]

I was just talking about this "mass handmade cookie cutter product" phenomenon, I was just at a con with four discreet 3d printer booths all of whom had the exact same articulated dragon with roses on it's back? and I literally own one of these at a small scale it's adorable i like the model quite a lot, but like. it's a $4 STL file online, the filaments are $20 each on amazon, once you buy the printer you can just print them in any size forever and charge whatever people will buy because they don't realize the seller has don't like. none of the design or labor involved in producing this item, despite the fact that they did factually make it themselves on a small enough scale that it's not out of place at a handmade maker con. it's odd.

IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I AM INSANE. IT MAKES ME FEEL OUT OF TOUCH WITH CONSENSUS REALITY!!!! like it's not the same as dropshipped items bc i think those should just flatout not be allowed without VERY clear signposting - like if you are selling mass produced notions for other people's creative products you should be legally required to state who your supplier is so ppl can look up how much you're upmarking shit, bc like. there IS a market for "the factory sells those buttons in batches of 100 and i only need 5, so i'll pay a little more for a middleman to have purchased the batch of 100 and handle all the inventory" like that is a service that makes sense. to have exist. but ohhhhh my fucking god.

but what you're describing is really true, i think there's a mix between like... i know small artists who sell stuff at markets and cons and stuff pay a table fee, so they want to make back what they spent on that, and so it makes sense to want to be sure that some of what you're making is going to sell, and maybe it even makes sense to do what you describe - buy an STL file, print off some proven winners.

but from the buyers' perspective, it means that half the art markets i go to are full of enamel pins that say CAT MOM and stickers about liking avocados and pride flag keychains, bc that's what sells, and anything that's original sits unsold - or it's more expensive bc it wasn't mass-produced and had higher labor costs, so it takes longer to move... so ppl stop stocking or bringing it... and it's like if all of this is the same why am i even here. T_T

[sanspuppet]

MDNI - smut

professor!Mingi x afab!reader

W/T: University AU, unprotected sex, breeding, public sex, quick dick sucking, reader’s first time, pet names (pretty, lovely, darling)

A/O: @ahimhere here’s your request for the prompt “Shush, we can’t have anyone hearing this”, i figured some professor Mingi, hope you can enjoy hehe <3

When the bell rang, and all the people that frequented your course left the classroom, the professor called your name once you walked next to his desk.

“Y/n, Miss. Can you please come over to my office? We need to talk about something.” Your body blocked, hearing his low voice demanding you. You couldn’t deny that he’s the finest, the most handsome man that you’ve ever seen, and the classes you had with him were always hard to focus on, as you were completely infatuated by his hot look. You shook your head to turn again to reality, pressing hard your books against your breast due to nervousness: why would he want to talk with you?

“Oh… Yes, surely Sir” you headed to his personal office, after walking over the class door. Your gaze was locked down your shoes, your cheeks felt burning at the thought of being alone with him.

You turned around to see him walking behind you, he reached the door and opened it with one of the keys he hold in his pocket pants. The man nodded to you as he sat on his chair. You walked over him and sat shyly on one of the two other chairs in front of the huge desk.

“So…” he opened a drawer, where he placed his books before closing it back. “You’re seriously a model student” his eyes were locked on yours, he had his fingers crossed when he continued: “You still have great grades, even though you seem very distracted during my lessons”

“Oh, uhm…” you blinked while staring at the floor, your mind was elaborating a good excuse, but the man beat you on time: “I’ve started to think that the reason you can’t focus properly is because of me, do i bother you?” You were confused as you saw a slight smirk diving onto his face, waiting silently for you to reply him.

“Yes- i mean… kind, of. I’m sorry.”

The man nodded, shaking slowly his hand to you. “You don’t have to be, i only need you to explain why you’re being distracted by me, so maybe we can work on this together.”

You played with your hands nervously, chuckling shyly and shaking your head before articulating the dumbest thing you could have said: “Oh no, no i shouldn’t.”

He raised an eyebrow, standing up to get closer to you. He held on his knee with a hand as the other lifted your chin. “Why shouldn’t you? Miss, i have already figured out why. But i want you to say it, so i can be sure of that”

Your heartbeat accelerated at the idea of him knowing that you use to fantasize about him during his classes, mixed with the sight of his face close to yours enough to feel his warm breath.

“I dream of… you, during lessons” you weren’t actually going to say what you daydreamed of him, right? It’d be so shameful, for your imagine of perfect student, but you couldn’t do anything about being a fucking pervert when it came to that professor.

“About? Keep going.” His hand never left your chin as he kept trying to make eye contact with you, despite your eyes were forcefully locked on the floor.

“H-having…” you gulped before continuing. “sex, here.”

He pulled back, murmuring a long: “Ooh~” with his arms crossed. “Just as i thought” He supported himself with the desk top. “I still don’t blame you, every student has his specific distraction… what i am asking to myself and obviously you, is… What should we do about it?”

Your mouth hung open waiting for your mind to elaborate anything, but the only thing that left your mouth was a simple: “i don’t know Sir…”

He scratched his chin, widened his eyes once he chose the best option: “Tell me y/n, if i fuck you and consequently fulfill your needs, will you focus better during my classes?” He got closer to you again.

The air inside the room felt heavy, you were struggling to breathe, and you could feel drops of sweat resting on your forehead as soon you realized how hot it was there. You were fatigued by some unknown reason before, but now the heat between you and your professor seemed uncontrollable to you, so couldn’t do anything but nod.

“Yeah, i think.” you murmured, finally looking at him. The man was loosening the knot of the tie to breathe better, you watched him unbuttoning his shirt, every movement of his got you wetter as reaction. You stood up and bent over his desk, your skirt was already on the floor when you dragged down your panties, a string of arousal connecting them to your pussy.

He groaned once he turned to see you prepared to take him. His hands were caressing your hips, his eyes inspecting every detail of your bare skin, even though you were one of his students, he couldn’t deny that you’re a hot yet pretty girl.

“I know i shouldn’t make preferences, but you’re my favorite student y/n, such a beautiful and smart girl.” You shyly chuckled, but the slight laughter quickly turned into a needy moan as soon as you felt his fingers slicking against your sticky cunt. “Shush, we can’t have anyone hearing this” You obeyed him, biting your lower lip to muffle any sound that could have escaped your mouth.

“Unfortunately i don’t have any condoms here with me, i will have to breed you, if it isn’t a problem.” You nodded, turning your head to try to look at him while he unzipped his pants. “You can”

In less than a minute he was already buried inside you, pumping as fast as he could without making any sound of skin slamming against skin. His hands were gripping your waist to hold better, your suffocated moans made him even hornier. “Fuck it’s so tight, is this your first time lovely?” his pace slowed down to help you reply easier.

“Y-yes” you layed on your elbows, your face was pressing against the wood of the desk.

“Oh so bad, your boyfriend should have been your first.” He was already tired of the sleepy pace, so he started to hammer again roughly into your pussy. You breathed deeply before talking back:

“It’s o-okey—fuck, i- i’m in love with you” you were so embarrassed to say it, even though it was the truth.

“We’ll se what we can do about it, but for now, let’s focus on orgasming, got it pretty?”

In effect, you found yourself really close to your high, but you still wanted to fuck with him more. The nasty and squelching sound was too loud that there was no fucking way it couldn’t have been heard from ourside, but even if people were probably thinking the professor was having a quicky with the sexy English teacher, he was actually fucking “the sexy student” as how he used to call you for himself. You could notice that the thrust became sloppier at some point, warning you that he was close to climax soon.

“God, i’d like to fuck you all day long but we have other classes in five minutes” He slammed his big cock inside your throbbing cunt enough to make your clit red from how he was balls deep in you. The heat turned into pure desperation of cumming as you two kept fucking.

“Sir… i’m close” you whined with your face squeezed into your arm to muffle the occasional loud noises.

“Gonna spurt my cum into you very soon lovely, get ready” he couldn’t hold back his groans, too.

You came the same second you felt a hot liquid releasing into your pussy, mixing it with your own. The man behind you groped your ass, spreading your ass cheeks to admire the mess leaking slowly out of you.

“Does it bother you if you keep it inside until you get home, darling?” he asked you, dragging your panties up to put them in place again. “it’s fine”

Once you were fully clothed, you turned around to look at him. Quite to your surprise he pointed at his still leaked crotch.

“Could you please clean it up, quickly?”

You immediately kneeled, licking down on all his length until all the cum on it was in your stomach. You took him out of your mouth with a pop, he didn’t wait any longer before putting back on his pants along with the boxers.

“I had a great time y/n. About what you said to me, maybe we can give us a chance, don’t you think? Let me give you my number, when you’re completely sure about that, we can hang out together.” he smiled at you, after asking for you phone where he could type his phone number.

After a minute, when the bell rang again, he opened the door holding it for you to leave his office first.

“Thank you, Sir” you cooed, a genuine smile popping out your face.

“You can call me Mingi, now go, maths is waiting for you” he chuckled back.

[sizzleissues]

Idk thinking about it maybe Adrien is not just totally blind to other peoples feelings for him but it’s again a product of the low self-esteem wherein he doesn’t think anyone would ever love him sincerely. His fans ‘love him’ but they love the image crafted by his father. His mother loved him but she was taken away from him. His father probably loves him but he definitely likes to give and take it away at a whim. So surely that ‘I love you’ was platonic, I am nothing to love and she definitely meant that in a friend way, because who even am I?

I think he’d easily twist every confession into something that fits the narrative he tells himself, and that he’d never want to make someone uncomfortable by misreading their intentions so he just doesn’t read them at all. Like marinette acts weird around me a lot, she does stuff I’ve seen people with crushes do but surely thats just the way marinette is and it isn’t my business to push myself on her in case she’s just awkward because I’m a drag of a person blah blah blah.

Idk if I articulated that well but do you get the idea?? Even if you want someone to love you that way, if you do not know/like yourself you will reject the possibility someone does like you that way.

And Ladybug is delightfully unattainable so he can place her as the person whom he can imagine loving him because there’s no way LB would actually love him. Sure she’s his partner, their love is totally platonic and so he’s safe to love that way. The other side of his low-self esteem, the side that craves validation is shown here. As a civilian he cannot believe love can be given to him without price or cost and it’s probably something else, he’s mistaken. But the moment the love square reverses, he can’t see her attempts at wooing him as sincere. They’re a test or a joke, or an affect of the miraculous. Nope, she definitely doesn’t mean it. And adrienette only happens because he gathers a little self-esteem and he knows marinette likes him, it all comes to together for him finally, there’s too much evidence now and he likes himself enough to take a shot.

LIKE COME ON

Anyway I think that is interesting