#i fear i'm obsessed with making these now

[hexcoreviktor]

VIKTOR + tumblr text posts

[aventurineswife]

Hi! Another beloved parenting request (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Basically the reader and the character(Aventurine, Sampo, Childe And dr.Ratio) have a 4 year old son who one night has a nightmare and asks both of them if they can sleep with them in the middle, In short the child sleeps with both parents. Take all the time you want with this, I mean it all! (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♪

-💤🩵 anon

Safe Between Us

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Childe x Reader, Fluff, Domestic Life, Parenting, Comfort/Wholesome Moments, Nightmare Comfort, Soft Relationships, Family Bonding, Established Relationship.

Warnings: Mentions of Nightmares (non-graphic), Mild Emotional Vulnerability, References to Past Trauma.

A/N: Someone's a bit obsessed with a certain hydro character here ahem ahem, can't blame you if I'm obsessed with a certain gambler here ahem ahem 🧍‍♀️ also Renny is used for gender neutral term of parent since it would've been weird if the child called you parent

The quiet hum of the city outside your window was a faint backdrop to the stillness of the room. You were beginning to drift off to sleep when you heard the sound of small, hurried footsteps padding down the hall. Moments later, a little voice called out, trembling with fear.

“Papa? Mama/Dada/Renny?”

You sat up immediately, your heart clenching. Your four-year-old son stood at the doorway, his hair sticking up in all directions, his eyes brimming with tears. Clutching a small stuffed peacock—Aventurine's ironic gift—he sniffled.

“I had a bad dream,” he whispered. “Can I sleep with you and Papa?”

Aventurine, who had been lounging on the bed, glanced at the child. His ever-present enigmatic smile softened. “A nightmare, hmm? Well, dreams are just gambles in our sleep, aren’t they? Sometimes you win, sometimes you don’t. But tonight,” he said, patting the bed, “you’ve hit the jackpot, little man.”

You rolled your eyes at his theatrical explanation but moved aside to make room. Your son climbed into the bed, nestling himself between the two of you. Aventurine adjusted the covers with an exaggerated flourish, ensuring his boy was snug and warm.

“Tell me what scared you,” Aventurine said softly, his voice losing its usual playful edge. He reached out, brushing a few stray locks from your son’s forehead.

“There were… monsters,” your son murmured, curling against your side. “And they wanted to take me away.”

Aventurine’s smile grew tight for a moment��a rare crack in his facade. “No one’s taking you anywhere,” he promised, his tone firmer now. “Not while your parents are here.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to your son’s temple. Aventurine mirrored your gesture, his gaze meeting yours briefly. It was in these quiet, vulnerable moments that his guarded mask slipped entirely, revealing the man beneath.

As the three of you lay there, the child’s breathing grew steady, his fears banished by the warmth and love surrounding him. Aventurine murmured a soft, “Goodnight,” his hand lingering protectively on your son’s back. For once, there was no gamble, no risk—just family.

The air was cool, and the soft glow of the moon filtered through the curtains as you and Sampo settled into bed. His mischievous grin, as usual, hadn’t faltered even after a long day. But the peace of the evening was soon interrupted by the sound of your son crying out from his room.

Both you and Sampo bolted upright, exchanging a quick glance before hurrying down the hall. You found your four-year-old sitting up in his bed, his eyes wide with fear and tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey there, champ,” Sampo said, crouching beside him. “What’s got you so spooked?”

“I—I had a bad dream,” your son stammered, his small hands clutching the blanket. “Can I sleep with you and Mama/Papa/Renny?”

Sampo’s playful grin softened. “Of course you can. What kind of dad would I be if I said no to my favorite little guy?”

Carrying your son back to your bedroom, Sampo made a show of fluffing the pillows and tucking him in. “Alright, bud,” he said as your son settled between the two of you, “you’re in the safest spot in the world now—between two top-tier protectors.”

“Papa,” your son whispered as he clung to your arm, “are you sure the monsters can’t find me here?”

“Monsters?” Sampo chuckled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Not a chance. Besides, if they tried, I’d outsmart them in a heartbeat. You’ve got a merchant dad, remember? I’d sell them some fake monster repellent and send them running!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. But it worked—your son giggled, the fear melting from his face. Soon, he was fast asleep, snuggled between you and Sampo.

Sampo leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple. “See? Problem solved. My charms work on everyone.”

The house was silent save for the rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the shore outside. You were just drifting off to sleep when a tiny knock came at the bedroom door.

“Come in,” Childe called, sitting up immediately. The door creaked open to reveal your four-year-old son, clutching his blanket tightly.

“Papa… Mama/Dada/Renny… I had a bad dream,” he said, his voice shaky. “Can I sleep with you?”

Childe was out of bed in an instant, kneeling to scoop the boy into his arms. “Of course, little one,” he said, his tone soft and reassuring. “Nightmares can’t hurt you when we’re here.”

Your son nestled against Childe’s chest as he carried him back to the bed. As the child crawled into the space between you, Childe tucked the blankets securely around him. “What was the dream about?” he asked, brushing his fingers through your son’s hair.

“There were… shadows,” your son whispered. “And they tried to take me away.”

Childe’s jaw tightened briefly, but his voice remained calm. “Shadows, huh? Well, they don’t stand a chance against us. Your parent and I are the strongest team there is.”

He glanced at you, his eyes softening as he reached over to take your hand. “We’ve got him, right?”

You nodded, smiling. “Always.”

Your son’s breathing slowed as he relaxed, lulled by the warmth and safety of your embrace. Childe watched him for a moment, his hand resting protectively on the boy’s back. “I’ll never let anything happen to him,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

The soft glow of the night lamp illuminated your room when the faint sound of sniffles reached your ears. Moments later, your four-year-old son appeared at the doorway, his small frame trembling.

“Mommy/Daddy/Renny… Daddy… I had a bad dream,” he said, clutching his blanket. “Can I sleep with you?”

Ratio adjusted his glasses, his intense eyes softening as he looked at the child. “A nightmare?” he murmured, rising to kneel before him. “Dreams are merely the mind’s way of sorting chaos. Let’s bring some order to this, shall we?”

You smiled as Ratio scooped the boy into his arms, his scholarly tone transforming into something gentle and warm. “Come,” he said, settling the child between you. “There is no safer place than here.”

As your son curled up, Ratio placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Tell me what frightened you,” he urged.

“There were big, scary shapes,” your son whispered, his voice muffled against your chest. “And they were chasing me.”

Ratio nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, shadows. A product of fear and imagination,” he explained. “But fear loses its power in the presence of love and knowledge.”

Your son’s eyes fluttered closed as you and Ratio soothed him with quiet reassurances. “Sleep now, my little prodigy,” Ratio whispered, his hand lingering protectively on the boy’s back. “Your dreams will find clarity, and we will always be here to guide you.”

[lame-cameoliob]

Kallus' motivations are so interesting

I just need to get these thoughts out so I’m throwing this ramble here:

Now, this may totally just be me thinking too much (fork found in kitchen) but I feel like when it comes to how we tend to think about Kallus’ characterization, the implications of Kallus’ experience on Onderon are very overlooked. 

So he goes to Onderon with “the boys”-- which, the term “the boys” has its own set of implications about how Kallus must have really cared for those troopers under his command but I digress– and on a patrol they’re attacked, yada yada, we all know the story. 

But Kallus becomes fully paralyzed. He doesn’t describe the extent of his paralyzation but given that he had to watch as his squad was “finished off one by one” it’s pretty fair to assume that he could not move whatsoever. The fear that any person would experience in that situation is completely indescribable, that is genuinely some shit straight out of a night terror. 

He is– as we know– spared (albeit we don’t get exact details (did the merc try to kill him but reinforcements arrived before he could? Did the merc think that Kallus was already dead? Secret 3rd option?)) and he makes a full physical recovery, but there is no way in hell that he is not coming out of that encounter with some crazy PTSD. 

There’s not a whole lot of info on Imperial mental health services but I don’t think it’s a longshot to assume that they are probably close to nonexistent.

So the empire now has… an ISB agent with field experience… with untreated PTSD… where said PTSDs inciting incident pertained to a Lasat… and they’re looking to make an example out of Lasan……….. Are you picking up what I'm putting down here…...?

If you aren’t; it is BY NO MEANS a wild assumption to say that the Empire– essentially– weaponized Kallus’ PTSD, given that he would be less likely to question the moral atrocities happening on Lasan since he was already biased against Lasat as a whole. 

Now, we don’t really have a solid grasp on what Kallus’ exact role in Lasan was since he’s  kiiiiinnnd of an unreliable narrator– I mean we’re given the line in Droids in Distress where he takes credit for giving orders during the siege, but Kallus routinely just runs his mf mouth whenever he’s throwing hands so it’s like…  that could either be the truth or a crazy exaggeration, we as viewers have literally no idea what’s going on there– but it goes without saying that Kallus is obviously not excused from his participation just because of (likely) untreated mental illness, but that is literally like the whole point of his character so like we all knew that

Now, after Lasan, Kallus does something really bizarre for an imperial to do; he accepts the borifle given to him through the Boosan Keerah, and even though he doesn’t know about the cultural significance of that, he still takes it upon himself to learn how to use this weapon. I think that literally any other imperial would have tossed that shit out on sight, so I think it does kind of imply that Kallus did have a good deal of respect for Lasat culture.

Now we can all recall how Kallus is so annoying and also batshit insane whenever he fights Zeb for the first season and a half of rebels, and ME THINKS that this is because he wants to prove to himself that if he were not paralyzed on Onderon, he could have saved the members of his squad. He had to sit by and watch them die, and I think that he just wants the vindication; now you may be thinking, But Emma, he beat the Lasat who gave him his borifle, why would he still be obsessing over this– say it with me now– he is mentally ill. No victory will ever be enough to prove this to himself. Point blank period. 

To double down on that point, Kallus never actually says anything xenophobic about Zeb or the Lasat as a whole. (At least not that I can remember). He says “Lasat– never know when to give up,” but that’s not like… a crazy thing to say– in fact, in a fucked up sorta way, it almost sounds like a compliment???? Like, Kallus completely sees Zeb (and the Lasat in general) as equals, he’s not operating under the usual xenophobic imperial mindset that other species are lesser than. This weird obsession that he has in seasons 1 and 2 is just there because he wants to outwit and outfight Zeb (and the rest of the Ghost crew… but especially Zeb)

And after the Honorable Ones???? It’s literally never brought up again. He chills tf out so hard after that it is high key uncanny. And like, yes duh that is because– for writing purposes– that’s the beginning of his redemption and they want viewers to root for him as fulcrum, but it also implies that after finding common ground with Zeb, and understanding where he’s coming from and who Zeb is as a person, he realizes that he’s been CRASHING TF OUT for basically no reason. 

And he is SO QUICK to switch sides?? Like, he is fulcrum at least a decent time before the beginning of season three. The whole point is that the second he asks questions and delves deeper into what the Empires motivations are he is disgusted enough that he doesn’t just drop everything and disappear, no, he became a spy for the rebels because he wants to help. I feel like that just goes to show that, at his core, Kallus is a good person. A deeply confused, and hurt, and misguided person, but a good one. 

I dunno, this is just a really long winded way of saying that Kallus is the perfect example of an imperial pawn. Like the Empire is an incredibly effecient indoctrination machine that exploits people at every turn, especially their own soldiers, and I think that Kallus’ relationship with that indoctrination along with his own motivations is just super super interesting and I think about it literally all the time

[callmemonster68]

JAY - God of Shadows ( smut )

A deity destined to rule the shadows and watch mortals from afar, yet one who loses himself in his own darkness when consumed by obsession for a mortal woman.

Pairing: Jay, a deity X FemReader

Genre: Obscenity

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands

Note: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome!

Night was Jay’s absolute domain. He walked among the shadows like a king in his castle, observing mortals live their pathetic lives. But that night, something changed. He saw her.

Jay was known to lack emotions; he was the embodiment of emptiness, mystery, the unknown. Yet, upon seeing her, a primal hunger consumed him. It wasn’t just desire—it was obsession. He wanted her.

Y/N was alone, lying on the damp grass in a moonlit field. Her body seemed sculpted from darkness itself, yet the moonlight touched her like a forbidden sanctuary. Jay felt something he couldn’t understand—an overwhelming, fiery longing.

He materialized a few meters from her, his eyes glowing with the intensity of his obsession. When Y/N sat up, alarmed, he enveloped her with his voice, soft as velvet yet sharp as a blade.

Jay: “Who are you to dare enchant the Lord of Shadows himself?”

Y/N recoiled, but couldn’t help locking eyes with him. Jay felt a perverse pleasure in her hesitation—a sweet fear that fed his obsession.

Jay: “Do not run from me,” he commanded, advancing like a living shadow. “You have no idea of the power you possess. Or what I would do to have you.”

She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Jay’s predatory smile grew as he leaned closer, delicately holding her chin with fingers that seemed carved from the night itself.

Jay: “You don’t understand, mortal. I could offer you worlds, dreams... pleasures that even gods would envy. But, truthfully, I want something simpler: I want you. Your surrender. Your body, your soul, your will... everything.”

Y/N tried to protest, but Jay only laughed—a low sound, thick with desire.

Jay: “Don’t fight this,” he murmured, his fingers brushing her neck. “I can be cruel, or I can be generous. Tell me... do you want to know what it means to be claimed by the darkness itself?”

Finally, she found the courage to speak.

Y/N: “You’re insane... Who... who are you?”

Jay tilted his head, his eyes blazing.

Jay: “No, little mortal. I am Jay, the God of Shadows. And now, you are mine—in every possible way.”

Y/N took a step back, but he advanced, his words dripping like sweet poison.

Jay: “You feel it, don’t you? This energy between us? It’s as if you were created solely for me.”

He raised his hand—a gesture both gentle and commanding—and a shadow slithered forward, brushing her skin. The touch was cold yet electrifying.

Y/N: “Why me?”

Jay: “Because you’re perfect. Every curve, every thought, every breath... everything about you was made to torment me.”

She tried to back away again, but he caught her wrist, his grip firm and possessive.

Jay: “You can try to run, but it’s useless, little one. I am the shadows. There is nowhere you can hide from me.”

Y/N’s voice trembled as she argued.

Y/N: “This isn’t... right. You can’t force me to do anything.”

He chuckled—a deep, lustful sound.

Jay: “Force you? No. But seduce you? Oh, that I will. I’ll make you beg to be mine.”

The shadows around them began to move, snaking across her body almost carnally, yet never crossing the line. Jay understood the thin boundary between fear and desire—and he was determined to make her cross it.

Jay: “Every night, you will dream of me. Every moment away from me will be torture. I will invade your thoughts, your desires, until you can no longer live without me.”

Though Y/N resisted, something in her eyes hinted that part of her was already yielding. Jay smiled, knowing the battle had only begun—and he had no intention of losing.

---------- TIME SKIP ----------

A dimly lit room, only candles casting shadows on the walls. The air was thick with desire. Jay, imposing and magnetic, approached Y/N, who lay on the bed, gazing at him with a mix of awe and longing.

Jay: “You know you cannot escape me, don’t you? Every shadow in this room belongs to me—just as you do.”

Y/N: “I know, Jay. And that only makes me want you more.”

Jay: “You’re so fragile, so human... and it drives me mad. I can’t let anyone else touch you.”

Y/N: “What do you mean by that?”

Jay leaned closer, his lips almost brushing hers.

Jay: “I mean that you’re mine. And I’ll show you exactly what that means.”

Y/N: “I want to feel it, Jay. I want to be yours.”

Jay: “Then let me take you to a place where only we exist. Where you are mine, and I am yours.”

He pulled her closer, his hands exploring her body as he kissed her passionately. The tension between them heightened, and Jay’s possessiveness became tangible.

Jay: “Never forget, S/N. You are mine. And I will do anything to protect what is mine.”

Y/N: “Then show me, Jay. Show me what it means to be yours.”

Jay enveloped her in his shadows, but instead of fearing the darkness, she felt safe and desired. He kissed her intensely, his hands traveling over her body. As the faint candlelight filled the space once more, Y/N felt the lingering intensity of Jay’s kiss on her lips, his touch igniting an unquenchable desire within her.

Jay gazed deeply into her eyes, his possessive yet adoring expression revealing the depth of his longing.

Jay: “You are mine.”

Y/N shivered, the mix of possessiveness and tenderness making her want to surrender completely. Jay leaned in again, his lips meeting hers with an urgency that made her feel alive.

Jay: “Let yourself go.”

S/N: “I’m in your hands.”

In the quiet intimacy of that moment, their bodies intertwined, surrendering entirely to the pull of their desire—a union of light and shadow, mortal and divine.

Lying naked on the bed, the two explored each other's bodies with their hands. Y/N, a little hesitant, placed her hand on Jay's hardened cock, which responded with a low groan. Slowly, she wrapped her hand around its base, and while looking into Jay’s eyes, she began to move her hand back and forth. It didn’t take long for Jay’s eyes to roll back in pleasure.

Jay was quick to reach for Y/N’s soaked pussy, her arousal sticky against his skillful fingers. He quickly found her clit, making circular motions that elicited soft moans from Y/N.

As both of them neared release, Jay stopped her movements.

Jay: “I don’t want to come yet. I want to be inside you when I do.”

Jay gently laid her in the middle of the bed, positioning himself between her legs. He guided his cock to Y/N’s needy entrance, slowly pushing in until he was fully inside her. He leaned down and kissed her passionately, starting to move at a slow and sensual rhythm. The kiss turned messy, filled with moans and sighs escaping between their lips.

Jay: “You take me so perfectly. Your pussy was made just for me.”

Y/N: “Yes, only you can have me like this.”

Jay’s movements quickened, her walls tightening around him more and more. It was becoming too much for him, and as he lost himself in the pleasure, his powers seemed to spiral out of control.

Jay’s eyes turned completely black, and a darkness far denser than before enveloped the room. His thrusts, once sensual and loving, turned intense, strong, and possessive.

When Jay finally reached his climax, his eyes returned to normal, and the darkness receded once again. Realizing what had just happened, Jay, startled, stopped his movements and withdrew. He looked into Y/N’s eyes, concerned, afraid he had hurt or terrified her.

Jay: “Are you hurt? Did I scare you?”

Smiling and feeling utterly satisfied, Y/N responded as she stroked his face.

Y/N: “Scary? My God, you’re divine.”

This story is part of the universe of ' Divine Sins: Immortal Fantasies with ENHYPEN ' created by me.Description:Seven sensual and mysterious tales that delve into the desires between mortals and immortals. Inspired by the members of ENHYPEN, these stories reimagine the group as powerful gods and a fallen angel, all wickedly alluring and irresistibly seductive. Each narrative immerses readers in a world of fantasy, unveiling forbidden passions, divine secrets, and the overwhelming intensity that sparks between celestial beings and an ordinary human. A universe brimming with lust, mystery, and the captivating allure of the forbidden, where every story is an invitation to desire. Contains mature content.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[princesschimchim1325]

If I had a nickel every time I fell in love & became obsessed with a man who was as bright as the star with the most beautiful smile but died horrifically & then came back to life 10 times more fucked up & became murderous & became part of an illegal organization & then became well known criminals & screaming about debts and vengeance & are terrifying but are secretly softies & have memory issues & and have an infliction where they become crazy but are actually normally chill I would have 2 nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

(Aka I'm now obsessed with Jason Todd. I was only really familiar with Team Titans, Iliterally just came across an edit and then became obsessed and fell down a rabbit hole.

Now I love the batfam and hate how DC makes Bruce look like he hates Jason where in reality Jason is his baby boy, his Jaylad, the one who made him laugh on his parents' death anniversary and I hate how some comics make Dick hate Jason when instead they could've been the most iconic brothers. And I hate how Talia Al Ghul's character was destroyed in favor making her a rapist and making Damian a baby born out of SA which makes him joining his father so icky to me bc they made Bruce like a reluctant SA victim whose child is forced on to him. Which is racist btw they hate to see an Arab woman winning I fear, she and Bruce were Autism4Autism and they make her have a romantic/sexual relationship with Jason instead of a mentor/motherly relationship.

Like in the few movies I watched when I was young, BatCat was the ship featured almost always but I have not watched a movie about Brutalia.

Also as a child, Robin x Starfire was my OTP, so reading and seeing Barbara x Dick is uhh....anyway, Dickkory my beloved, they could never make me hate you.

They could also never make me hate Red Hood, aka Jason Peter Todd-Wayne ❤)

[marigraphia]

Mrs. and Mr. Emma Frost!

(Reference under the cut)

[beevean]

🌻 (maybe something you haven't really had a chance to bring up here, but want to talk about regardless?)

nah, sometimes I feel like a NPC who has exhausted the whole conversation tree lol. I don't know what to say anymore unless prompted.

I guess I've been thinking about how much you can glimpse about someone from their art, especially writing

I know it's not a 1:1 thing, it's not a "if you like writing whump you're a violent person IRL" situation lmao. But I've been thinking about how I'm afraid my writing is growing stale - maybe not in style, at least I hope not, but how I get obsessed over a few concepts and I keep recyclying them because I love thinking about them and elaborating them, even though that makes my writing even more niche

so it's like. why do i like it? does it say anything about me? or it's just not that deep and has the same value as liking chocolate ice cream?

Maybe it's just discourse that makes me a bit nervous about being judged. And I never even went full unhinged on main :^)

[gamebunny-advance]

Hmhm~

It finally happened. I finally have a conventionally attractive anime(esque) boy that I can fawn over.

[jaguarys]

3 and 11! (I share my Itachi thoughts and you share yours like we're in a socratic seminar)

3. were naruto's intentions with sasuke selfish?

HM. I think it depends on the ways in which you interpret... being selfish. In some ways, I think so. I think Naruto is very possessive about 'his' people, and because Sasuke is one of them that can supersede Sasuke's own volition because Naruto is nothing if not a little dense and also stubbornness condensed into human shape.

I think there's certainly something to be said about quite literally fighting someone to try to bring them 'home' against their will, but I also don't think that's unique or special to Naruto (as it's moreso something to be said about Shinobi as a whole), and it's also just to do with the genre itself.

But also... I don't think 'selfish' is the right word. He's a kid doing what he thinks is right against another kid who's doing what he thinks is right, and both of them are selfish, and both of them are also just kids.

Is trying to help someone against their will selfish? Maybe. Is caring about someone against their will selfish? Maybe. Or maybe it's just human nature. Who knows!

11. is Itachi a martyr, a victim, or a perpetrator?

I'm happy to get to answer this one 'cause I always have thoughts on Itachi! Ultimately... Multiple? All?

I don't think it can be argued that Itachi isn't a perpetrator. No matter his intentions, or how you view his story, what he does is incredible and unnecessary violence. That's just... how it is. Doesn't mean there isn't more to it, but that can't be denied.

All the same, he was absolutely a victim in my eyes. I honestly think no matter how you cut it "being convinced your only option is to kill everyone you care about (sans brother)" is uh. Fucked. Especially when you're a kid. I just really don't think there's a way around that, especially when we have lots of evidence of how manipulative Danzō is. I truly think he was doing what he thought was right.

However. That doesn't mean he's not Really Fucking Wrong. For everything. All the time. And that doesn't absolve him of anything. Just because you don't see any other way out doesn't mean there isn't. I think there can be a difference between being wrong and being entirely to blame, especially When You're Twelve And Brainwashed.

Of course... there's also a matter of growth. Personally I think Itachi just went I Do Not See about everything once he left Konoha because he quite literally couldn't take the fact that what he'd done was for nothing. And so he just dug his heels in and decided not to reflect for even a moment.

And uh. Growing is really what makes you something other than a perpetrator. And he refused.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

How are you a germophobe and an emt? Not hating, just curious!

I mean I never said I was a good EMT lmaooo no but fr that's why I work at events and not on an ambulance, I get to stay outside and never have to be trapped in an enclosed area with someone who might be sick. Plus I am just an EMT, and I work with a paramedic, so he does the majority of the care while I document and get supplies/extra equipment. And I do get vitals the majority of the time bc usually the patients aren't obviously infectious and I'm chilling until they're symptomatic lmao. But yeah no overall being in the field is a terrible fit for me, but I've got all the knowledge and I'm damn good at teaching, and we get a lot of students, so I've got a good thing going where I'm at now 😌

[araneitela]

Me: Talks about the significance and intimacy (not automatically romantic, folks, but also there's an inherent romanticism) of hands, and touch and who you let into that space of comfort. Pinterest: Did you say hands? Here, we've adjusted your home feed you so that you. cannot. possibly. escape. them. you're. welcome. Me: I just wanted— what did I want, again?

... Did I end up rambling about anything but hands in my tags? Yes. Welcome to me, this is what you sign up for. Not my portrayal, not my writing, my tag rambles.

[flowercrowngods]

I'm taking your post as permission to poke and prod and say, 'you can do it!'

Don't let this chapter kick your butt, you got this!!

it's kicking my butt :( it really, really is

[lisbonsteresa]

oh god

[coolspacequips]

I feel like I broke the seal and now I keep wanting to urgently tell you guys about this mean gay valet, too, RIP

[for-a-home-that-once-was]

Can't sleep because i was yet again too weak not to go through the certain tag on my tumblr. Ah i feel myself slipping.... I need someone or something to get me back on track again 🥺🥺🥺

[nancywheeeler]

“The Boogeyman is based on a short story by Stephen King, originally published way back in 1973, with the film concerning a terrifying supernatural entity that preys on families and feeds on the suffering of its victims. The movie's human characters include high school student Sadie Harper and her younger sister, Sawyer who are both reeling from the recent death of their mother and aren't getting much support from their father, Will, a therapist dealing with his own pain. “

lol so Stephen King adaptions are just original scripts with his name slapped on them now. okay.