#i guess it affected me more than i'd like to

[howlingday]

Blake Belladonna is a weird cat, but it's her birthday, so we'll just leave her be and let her do her own cat thing.

My source is this reddit thread.

Taiyang: Here ya go~! Salad for the birthday girl~!

Blake: Uh... Thanks, but-

Yang: Come on, Dad! Don't you have anything OTHER than health food? It's a birthday party; bring out some cake~!

Taiyang: The cake is still thawing and the burgers are still cooking. This should be enough for now.

Blake: Actually, I have a sensitivity, so-

Ruby: MORE FOR ME! (Dumps ranch bucket)

Blake: ...I'm relieved, but I'm also concerned.

Fun Fact! Cats have a primarily carnivorous diet. So much so that a good number of plants are actually toxic to them, such as onions, raw potatoes, garlic, and plants that grow from bulbs. Some cat food will include plant matter, but these are usually cooked before being added, making them less toxic than if served raw.

---------------------------------------------------

Yang: So, Blake, you enjoying the party~?

Blake: I am, thank you. I wasn't expecting this many people, though.

Yang: Yeah, you've got a lot more friends than you think. Why, were you expecting someone specific to be alone with~?

Blake: (Gently shoves Yang away, Smiling) It's not like that.

Yang: Aw, c'mon, Blake! Not even one little hint~? I can probably guess it's not me since your hands are in my face.

Blake: You'd be surprised who I like more than you'd think.

Yang: Heh heh... Well, I'm gonna check on the other party guests. Later, Kit-Kat~! (Exits)

Blake: (Blushes)

Fun Fact! Cats may show affection by placing their paws in their owner's faces. However, cats may also do this while forgetting to clean up after themselves, so be aware of where you cat has been before they shove their feet into your mouth.

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Nora: Happy birthday~!

Blake: Oh, thank you, Nora, it's-

Nora: It's baby powder~!

Blake: Oh... I was going to say it's very nice, and I was going to say "I wonder what it is".

Nora: Well, it's baby powder~!

Blake: Er, thank you, but why do I need baby powder?

Nora: What do you mean? Don't you use baby powder?

Blake: Why would I use baby powder?

Nora: Well, you smell like it all the time, so I thought-

Ren: If you don't like it, I can take it for you.

Blake: No, no, I just... wasn't expecting this. Thank you, Nora.

Nora: No problem~! It's your birthday. Ooh~! There's Jaune~! Gotta go; later~! (Leaves with Ren)

Blake: (Clutches hair, Sniffs)

Fun Fact! Some cats smell like baby powder, though other cats may smell more like fish and their own feces. The latter may be due to an improperly cleaned litter box.

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Weiss: Hello, Blake, and happy birthday.

Blake: Weiss? I... almost didn't recognize you.

Weiss: I thought I'd get a tan while we were staying here.

Blake: In the middle of Jaunary?

Weiss: Why not? It's not like I'll have any time for it after this.

Blake: ...You fell asleep outside and woke up with a tan, didn't you?

Weiss: Is it that obvious?

Blake: A little bit, though it's a good thing you spoke up. With that tan line, I almost didn't recognize you. I thought some orange-skinned stranger with white hair wandered in from outside.

Weiss: Please don't say that around Xiao Long; the last thing I need is her guffawing at my mistake.

Blake: I won't mention it, but-

Ruby: HAHAHA~! WEISS, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU~?!

Weiss: RUBY ROSE, SO HELP ME, I WILL-

Blake: (Giggles)

Fun Fact! Cats rely on their sense of smell over sight. In fact, when one cat leaves for the vet and returns, the other cat may become aggressive, or even hostile, because they don't recognize the new scent soaking their housemate.

---------------------------------------------------

Blake: (Smiling)

Blake: (Tenses)

Adam: (Glaring from the treeline)

Blake: ...

Yang: You good, Blake?

Blake: Huh? (Looks to Yang) Oh, I... (Looks out, Adam is gone) I thought I saw something...

Yang: Mm... Sounds like you might be drinking too much. C'mon, let's sit down on the couch. Sun and the guys said there was a game they wanted to catch since they were here.

Blake: (Smiles) That sounds nice, actually...

Fun Fact! Possibly due to the amount of serotonin cat brains produce, it is suggested that cats may hallucinate and see things that aren't really there.

---------------------------------------------------

Sun: I'm telling you, man, it's the truth! Both hands to the Brothers!

Yang: Oh, you are so full of it! We all had a phase where we said that, but we both know it's not...

Blake: (Looking at them both, Slowly blinks)

Neptune: Uh, you okay, Blake?

Blake: (Shakes her head) Hm? Yeah. Just... (Chuckles) Taking in the scenery.

Fun Fact! Cats will show affection by slowly blinking. This affection is best reciprocated by slowly blinking in return. Some cats have even learned to do this when a person smiles at them.

[crossdressingdeath]

#personally re heirs i suspect the talons keep the identities of their heirs pretty quiet#<- agreed prev#i’m sure each house operates differently since houses being blood family isn’t typical#(i think the valistis at one point had a succession based on blood relation and something happened that it went to somebody else?)#but the dellamortes capping their assassins at only blood relations/family is an objectively poor strategic decision#even if caterina limited her scope for heirs to her actual grandsons they probably??? have plenty???#of would be crows looking to join the house of the first talon#like why do you think caterina was helping those people affected by the antaam near the dellamorte vineyards#there’s probably orphans out there to recruit#although i guess if we’re speaking metaphorically if lucanis and illario and caterina are the last of the main family it could also#just be a sentiment people are taking a bit literally as opposed to the logistics of being first talon with only 2 (1.5?) working assassins#(i have not really seen these posts to confirm but if it’s ever come from me it’s def in the metaphorical sense heh) (tags via @basedonconjecture)

My assumption is that Talons will often name an heir from their immediate family if they have one, but if they don't they don't and if they do sometimes they later don't (I suspect Caterina is not the first Talon to have her family decimated in attempts to get to her) and probably sometimes their children get overlooked. It's made much harder to track by Crows always taking the name of their house, which means that unless we're specifically told there's no way to tell whether they were born into it or joined up later. But the thing is even if Caterina's whole family had lived I doubt they would've had enough active Crows to be the most powerful house in the whole organization. As far as I'm aware we've never been told how big the houses are (another thing I find deeply frustrating; are we talking 20 active assassins? 50? 100? More, less? Bioware for the love of god give me a benchmark, I suspect there aren't that many assassins just in terms of supply and demand but I'd love a number) and I suspect that the vast majority of people in the houses are support staff (trainers, quartermasters, couriers, merchants, etc; the Crows are merchant princes as well as assassins, after all) rather than assassins, but one family is not going to do it! The smaller minor houses maybe, but the First Talon? No way, House Dellamorte is absolutely not entirely reliant on Caterina's family for Crows.

Maybe people are getting confused by the difference between family (blood) and family (the Crows as a whole). A lot of Crows—although not Lucanis unless I've forgotten something—do refer to the Crows as a whole as their family, after all. But yeah, House Dellamorte is for sure not just Caterina's immediate family. They probably don't even need to rely on people wanting to join the First Talon's house, although that's definitely part of it; it's entirely possible Caterina's isn't the only family in the house, and they'd be recruiting separately as well (I don't think Caterina was helping the Antaam's victims just to get recruits, defending Antiva is the Crows' job and they do by all evidence and all accounts except Ivenci's take that job very seriously, but I don't doubt she'd take advantage of it). Just in general I don't think the most powerful house in the Crows is having trouble with recruitment, even if the First Talon's family is mostly dead.

Occasionally I see posts by people who are clearly 100% convinced that House Dellamorte is on the brink of complete collapse and. do you. do you guys think House Dellamorte, a house doing so well that Lucanis offers to pay Harding 6000 gold just to watch his back and assumes her shock means he's not offering enough, a house that has a combined guest/opera house on the grounds of its massive villa, a house that's such a big deal it is literally First Talon and thus head of the entirety of the Antivan Crows, consists solely of Caterina and her two grandsons. I promise you it does not.

[eastofedean]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[i-am-death-and-i-am-doom]

The effects of having a near-perfect foresight are honestly quite mind-boggling to me, because it leads to paradoxes no matter how I try to approach it (like, he himself is also within the system, and whatever he does affects it, which affects what he sees, which affects what he does etc. no workaround to this that I know seems satisfying) True free will + determinism just don't mesh that well at all.

So my easy cop-out solution to that problem is to throw away the Sacred Timeline. Not one thread of fate, but (infinitely) many. Basically, in my HC he sees (almost) all the future, but probabilistically. Exact chance of any given thing occuring, and additionally there are some key events that act like great attractors in that milling sea of futures (a bit like ta'veren in WoT if you know what I mean) that bind all the fates together and are certain (like Eärendil. You can have 1001 different First Ages and all of them lead to him, though the context can vary. All roads lead to Eärendil). That is probably not what Tolkien wanted, but it seems more appealing than frozen destiny.

Ok, so this was a general definition, which you explicitly didn't ask for. Ehm. So I guess that since in my framework few events are truly certain the question would be what he didn't see at all, even as a possibility. Then I'd say whatever Eru decides on the spot (sinking Númenor, judgement of Eärendil / Peredhel deal, Lúthien permit?) and long-term human dealings due to their non-Musicality (eg. he can't see from the Third Age to the Sixth because it wears down into chaos on that timescale).

Please tell me your HCs for "what does Námo not know (or had not known before it happenned)".

(concrete events/questions, not the general definition)

[redgearsmovin]

man .

[strxnged]

is it normal to be completely obsessed with someone and want to stare at them and be next to them at all times but the second you actually receive affection from them, you feel Uncomfortable in the Situation.

[cassandraclare]

Kit to Ty

Election day: misery, stress, hair-pulling, at least for Americans (and a lot of other people around the world affected by our politics!) So I thought I'd post a distraction; I hope it helps and doesn't annoy!

A while ago I posted the beginning of a letter from Kit to Ty, created for a Kickstarter backer. Here's the full text:

A letter from Kit to Ty, never sent.

Ty, Ty, Ty.

Your name looks strange written out like that. Like an abbreviation. But Tiberius would be so formal. I never think of you that way. Or, I suppose I should say, I never thought of you that way. Tenses matter in these situations, I guess.

It’s late, past midnight, and I’m sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom at Cirenworth. Jem and Tessa gave me one of the best rooms. Of course they did. It has a view out over the gardens. Sometimes I see the ghost of a dog there, a golden retriever I’m pretty sure, running in and out of the flowerbeds. He seems like a pretty happy ghost. I think about how much you like animals and how much they love you, because of course they do. But it’s too late; this dog passed away a long time ago. You probably couldn’t even see him. It’s too late for a lot of things, now.  

I’m still mad at you, and I don’t feel good about that. Maybe if I could forget, I could forgive. But I can’t forget that night you brought Livvy back. I’ll suddenly remember even when I’m thinking about something else. I’ll be in the middle of helping Tessa in the garden and suddenly I’ll turn around and I’m back in Idris. 

I remember I told you I loved you. I remember I told you I would help you, but not if you raised Livvy from the dead. Not if you did necromancy. But you wanted that more than you wanted me.

And I understand that. I’m not angry about that. Here’s what I’m angry about: when you brought Livvy back, you changed yourself. You made yourself a different person than the one I loved. I don’t know the person you are now. You took yourself away from me. I can’t forgive that. And you made me someone who has to keep a secret I never wanted to keep. I was raised by someone who had so many awful secrets, and when I started my life as a Shadowhunter I wanted to do it openly, and honestly. But now I’m just someone else with secrets I can never tell. Just like my dad.

It makes me angry, so angry. I want to yell at you. I wish you were here so I could yell at you.

Kit

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or are there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.

[fishsfailureson]

"What is to come"

(image id is both in the alt text and below the read more- I put it under one because it's incredibly long)

And so there we have it, the 200+ followers artpiece that I have been working on for several days, if I had to guess I'd say it took 25 or so hours over eleven days. Honestly it's so surreal to me that I'm here with over 200 followers (260 as of typing this- yes, I procrastinated on this), especially when I only hit 100 followers in February. It's genuinely really nice to know that people are actually interested in my art (before anyone brings up spam bots- I know there are a few of them amongst my followers but I've checked most of them and I am 100% confident that over 200 of them are real). I don't really have much else to say really- I'm just grateful to have the support. Thanks y'all :).

[Image id: a large, lineless digital drawing of several dinosaurs. It is nighttime. At the bottom of the piece, a lone Eoraptor lunensis is walking across the floodplains- both the ground and the Eoraptor are just silhouettes, the early dinosaur has been given protofeathers. The full moon is shining, it's size is exaggerated for artistic affect. Behind the moon, the heads of sixteen different dinosaurs can be seen (listed left to right, bottom to top) Row 1- Thecodontosaurus antiquus (small sauropodomorph with light brown protofeathers, near-white undersides, straight stripes that are moderately darker than the base colour and vibrant green eyes), Coelophysis bauri (small early theropod with a long and narrow skull, its protofeathers are golden and black. A soft orange stripe runs across the back of its head, it has warm brown eyes. Row 2- Plateosaurus trossingensis (long-necked sauropodomorph, it has reddish-brown scales, light undersides, triangular stripes running down it's spine that get bigger the further down they get and pale yellow eyes), Heterodontosaurus tuckii (small ornithopod with a hooked grey beak. It has spiky green feathers, a lighter chest and a darker stripe running along its head and back, there are three small spots on its face, two behind the eye and one infront of it, it's eyes are bright yellow). Row 3- Megalosaurus bucklandii (medium-sized theropod with warm brown feathers, lighter undersides, dark spots and bright yellow eyes, there are several scars on its face), Brachiosaurus altithorax (greenish-grey true sauropod with lighter undersides, a dark pink patch on its throat, dark desaturated brown eyes and a few small scars on its neck), Archaeopteryx (early toothed bird with a black head, white neck and bright yellow eyes). Row 4- Hylaeosaurus armatus (pale brown ankylosaur with lighter undersides and vibrant green eyes), Velociraptor mongoliensis (dromaeosaur with light brown feathers, a lighter chest, a black stripe near its eye and light green eyes), Sinosauropteryx prima (small compsognathid theropod with ginger protofeathers, an off white mask and undersides and pale yellow eyes), Iguanodon bernissartensis (large greenish-grey ornithopod with a slightly darker back, pale undersides, a grey beak, and yellow eyes). Row 5- Matuku otagoense (heron with medium grey feathers and a small crest. A red stripe runs from just behind its nostrils to about a third of the way down its neck. Its undersides are white, its beak is grey and its eyes are brown), Triceratops prorsus (three-horned ceratopsian with grey-brown scales, lighter undersides, two triangular stripes between it's brow and nasal horns, reddish-orange diamond-like stripes on its frill, a hooked grey beak and golden eyes. Its brow horns curve forward at the base. Row 6- North Island brown kiwi (plump brown bird with a long pale beak, whiskers and black eyes, its nostrils are at the tip of its bill, and unlike the other dinosaurs in the sky part of its body below the neck is visible), male house sparrow (small redish-brown and grey bird with a black bib below it's bill), it has brown eyes and a dark grey bill. Row 7- rock dove (grey bird with iridescent green feathers scattered across its neck, a dark grey beak, and warm brown eyes). end id]

[luveline]

I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻

thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader

"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway. 

You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer. 

That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him. 

"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks. 

"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.

Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?" 

You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?" 

"I finished it. Doesn't take long." 

"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?" 

It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?

"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance." 

Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes." 

"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face." 

"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?" 

You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).

"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself." 

Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard. 

"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks. 

"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth. 

"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it." 

Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently. 

"I'd love to," Spencer says. 

"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe. 

"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping. 

"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch." 

You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that." 

Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think." 

"Sure."

[rosemaze-reveries]

During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you. (Part 2)

hello hello! here is part 2 as promised. there are less characters than I hoped to write, but in exchange each blurb is a little longer than pt.1 !

part 1 can be found here

🦌🪼🤡🦎🪞🤕🕯️🎭

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🦌 Bane rubs his chin, tracing his memory. "Hm... Indeed, I'm familiar with that name. I'd suppose that's someone I knew when I worked for the DeRosses." He crosses his arms with a low, contemplative grunt, as if struggling to remember anything else. "I'd need a photograph." I happen to have a couple on hand, and he takes them gently. A long period of silence follows. After leafing through the photos for some time, he says: "I remember. They were always talking about marriage." With you? "Mm. I was never interested, but I never said no. Eventually I made them a ring from a scrap of iron. I hoped they'd stop visiting me if I satisfied them... It's too dangerous to come to the forest everyday." Then he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring of his own. "In exchange, they gave one back." He's been cherishing it all this time, even when he'd forgotten its origin.

🪼 Ivy - "I'm no stranger to feeling like I'm missing my other half, you know. That sense of loss is one of the only constants I have left. (Y/N) fills my emptiness, and without them it increases twofold." I open my mouth to ask, Do you think you could be soulmates? but then my eyes dart to the Yithian and I realize my mistake. Sorry, was that insensitive? Ivy is not amused with my implication that she might be interested in claiming (Y/N)'s soul. "My dear interviewer, I am a scholar, not a monster. Whatever you're insinuating, you're gravely mistaken."

🤡 Joker's face suddenly hardens, in spite of the fragile, twiddling-thumbs demeanor he'd shown me thus far. His hands ball into shaking fists and his lips purse, as if he's psyching himself up for a fight. Are you okay? I ask, preemptively guarding myself with my clipboard. Tears brim his eyes and the strength falls from his shoulders. He mutters out, "All I wanted was to be their sword and shield, their angel of light, and they left me out of my mind. Hahaha... Wanna know the biggest joke of all? I'd let them drive me crazy all over again."

🦎 Luchino's mouth stretches into a lazy grin. "That one's a cutie, eh? Had the pleasure of meeting them yet?" I shake my head, reminding him that (Y/N) is the focus of my current investigation. I guess his laidback attitude fooled me into saying too much. He promptly straightens his back, the smile fading. "Yeah... Yeah, from one researcher to another, I get the intrigue," he says. "But I can't say I fancy another guy using my love as a test subject."

🪞 Mary - "Do you take pleasure in nosing around a lady's private affairs? I'd expect more tact, even for an interviewer." The chill in her tone startles me. I sputter out something in my defense, but Mary huffs and waves me into silence. "(Y/N) is enjoying the privilege of being my right-hand. They're my favorite one so far, too. I dismissed the others without a second thought."

🤕 Naib - "On good terms." Wringing out any insightful answers from this man is tougher than I thought. In hopes of inspiring more of a reaction, I tell a small lie: When I interviewed (Y/N), they described a rather colorful affection for you... Almost immediately, Naib breaks eye contact and crosses his arms. But I still only get a guttural "Hm." in response. Can you confirm if this is true? I press. His answer is, once again, a curt "Hm." (Slightly more affirmative, I would say).

🕯️ Philippe - "My work has always stood as a testament to my love," he caresses the wax figure grafted onto his shoulder, "but shielding someone in life is a far greater challenge than honoring my losses. My worries are endless." Suddenly reminded of his sister's tragedy, I offer a sympathetic smile. Do you believe (Y/N) is in danger? Philippe returns my smile, though I can't make out the intent. "Of course. Evil lurks around every corner. At the very least, it won't reach them while I'm around."

🎭 Sangria - A fond smile graces her face as she recounts her memory. "It was clear to me after some time that I had disastrously entranced them." Then she adds, lightly, "I hadn't meant to, of course. At the time, I thought, I'm not looking for love—no, I'd had enough of it all—but soon, their smile would appear in my mind every time I sang. When someone gives you that much inspiration? You'd be a fool to let them go." She has a playful tone of voice, but I can tell (Y/N) means a great deal to her.

[yan-randomfandom]

First of all, I REALLY LOVE YOUR YANDERE WRITING (especially Yandere gravity falls),I would like to make a request (if I don't order from you), could you make a Stanley Yandere headcanon with more details? 🥹, I really love this old scammer

Stanley Pines x Wealthy!Reader

warnings: bizzare body thoughts at the end!!

a/n: I finally wrote a short story for Stan... Here's a quick one before I get ready for college (I'm already late) Enjoy!! supposed to be Mullet Stan, or js younger [Words: 1201]

💰

Somehow, Stanley Pines managed to get an extremely rich partner. The highest class of the higher class in the social system.

It only took him two dates. The fact that you agreed to a second date was disturbing, especially considering how disastrous the first one had been. He fully expected you to ditch him just for laughs. You didn't, and actually showed up.

Stan seriously wondered if there was something wrong with you. Were you that desperately lonely? Willing to date a broke, unemployed man? Pick up the first person you find?

Yet you showered him with gifts he has never had before in his entire life. You gave him unlimited food. You gave him money and a house.

Guess his flirting skills were just that good. He liked you too, to some extent, but he suspected it's mostly because you're rich.

But, strangely enough, after your two dates, you never really gave him attention again. You were almost never home.

Very rarely you gave him affection like a significant other is supposed to do.

That was fine with him; he didn’t really expect the relationship to last like any of his others. The whole situation was weird enough as it is. As long as he got a roof over his head, he really shouldn't be one to complain... Just make sure it's not a car roof.

It's honestly all just confusing, at most.

And so, he wholeheartedly enjoyed your money, trying to double it and invest as much as he could. Hey, it's free stuff! Not like it'd backfire or anything! If you ignore fumbling that one lottery win because he got disqualified...

Then, one day, Stanley got sick.

You stayed home that same day.

He felt his body shivering, wrapping himself around his blanket like his life depended on it. Head pounding, body shaking, skin sweating. Everything was so uncomfortable.

"You're really burning up, Stan," you murmured, clicking your tongue as you read his temperature. Higher than the usual fever.

Grabbing a cup of water, you tapped him over his layer of blanket. "Please sit up and drink this. I'll give you medicine."

It was too hard for him to move. You gently pulled the blanket from him. When it reached his nose, he made eye contact with you. His eyes were glazed and half-lidded from exhaustion.

"Why are you here?" he grunted, sitting up eventually. "Thought ya forgot about me."

You stared as he drank his water. "What?"

He wiped his mouth. "Eh, nothin'. Must be busy being rich."

"..." You quietly passed him his medicine.

After he took it, Stan ignored your silence and laid back on the bed. Once again, he buried himself under his comforter.

You frowned. "After our second date, I didn't expect my schedule to be so filled. I thought I'd make it up to you by giving you gifts."

A deep chuckle rumbled from the blanket. "It's alright, toots, I'm more curious on why you bothered anyway."

"Why?" you parroted, blinking. "...Oh, Stan."

Stan felt his comforter get pulled again, turning to see your expression. It was quite unreadable, to his dismay.

He almost stopped breathing when you put a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Believe it or not, I do like you," you rubbed a thumb across his hot skin, "I'm so sorry. We'll have more bonding time when you get better, okay? I dropped everything today to take care of you, and I promise I'll do it again."

Stan's vision blurred. He quickly blinked away the tears, trying to turn away from you.

"I don't deserve that. You do know I was after your money, right?"

You chuckled. "I knew that. Don't we all?"

He pursed his lips. "Wait, seriously? Then why'd you date me?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, pulling your hand away from him. He missed your touch already. "But I don't regret it."

"What do you even see in me? I sure as hell don't know. Unless..." his eyes widened, "You're trying to—"

Your face heated up immensely with furrowed eyebrows, shaking your head. "Of course not! I would never! Please don't ever mention that again??"

He laughed, yet it sounded throaty and scratchy. You smiled anyway at the fact he got to smile.

...

"...Permission to kiss you?" you asked.

...

You cringed internally. Terrible timing to ask that question.

But Stan had different thoughts... He didn't even know if he loved you like that. Your relationship moved too fast, and now you're here, taking care of him while he's sick. Sure, you're both in a relationship, but he knew this was wrong, because it felt wrong.

But... ah, he can't think straight.

"Yes," he breathed, desperately. Almost starved. Needy.

He reveled in the feeling of both your hands resting on his cheeks, only to feel slightly dejected when you kissed his forehead.

Guess even you're aware of your relationship right now. That's nice to know. Still, he liked the sentiment to the point that a smile is threatening to go out. "You're gonna, uh... steal my fever because of this."

A chuckle left your lips. "Then I'll trust you to take care of me next."

Trust.

Stan had never trusted anyone again after the incident, and no one else had any reason to trust him either.

He raised his hands and placed them over yours, which were still on his cheeks. You watched as he brushed his nose against your hand, giving you soft, ghostly kisses with his lips.

You smiled. "During our first date, I knew you were more than what you let on. Sure, you're charming and funny, but then I saw you staring at that family with kids, and I definitely noticed when you helped that old lady with the door."

Stan stared at you.

"And I really appreciated how hard you tried to make me comfortable," your smile widened. "I think that's the main reason that made me go on a second date with you."

He coughed, looking away. "Hey. I seem to be... in need of a warm body beside me. On the bed. Because I'm sick. And in need of emotional support."

"Sure," you chuckled. "Worth the risk."

He snuggled up to you as soon as you laid beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was cold, yet so warm.

You played with his hair, combing your fingers through it.

The longer you stayed with him, his warm body pressed against yours, the more he became addicted to the feeling.

The feeling of having someone by his side. Someone who actually understands him.

His eyes closed, indulging himself with your presence and warmth, trying to press himself further into you.

The fever made him feel as if he would melt into you, his flesh becoming one with yours, and everything in his body merging beneath your skin.

If he didn't love you just a few minutes ago, then he certainly does now.

And he's never letting you go.

BONUS:

"Noooooo. Please come back. I need you," he sobbed, actual tears leaking from his eyes. Your lips twitched; at least now you knew he has intense mood swings when he's sick.

You twisted the towel you had just soaked in water. "This will be quick. It'll seep the fever out of you."

"Nooo."

[prettymeredith]

Fantasy of the Day: The Ticklish Dancer

"Nobody's gonna come looking for you? You told everyone you'd be staying late tonight after dance rehearsal? Mhm, such a good girl."

My dance instructor has been bugging me for weeks for slme extra 1 on 1 lessons after class. Now alone, strapped up in an empty dance studio, it wasn't hard to figure out why.

"Sensitive honey? Aww, always thought you had a cute laugh, now I get you all to myself. None of those pesky peers of yours getting in the way, asking about their pirouette."

I guess all those times streching my calf muscles on her shoulders made me too trusting. Now I was stuck here, tickled by a sassy older woman, teasing me, and having her way with my feet.

"Ever wonder what your feet smile like after a couple of hours at class? Haha~ Yeah, that's what you smell like. Yummy huh? I think so."

She wasn't lying about her affinity for my sweaty dance feet. Quickly inserting my toes in her mouth, and tickling my arches before I even knew how to react.

"Qwff!? Hwahafhwahafhaf!! Hnm mhy Gwdd!!"

My giggles echoed around the empty dance studio. I could feel my cheeks flushing as my instructor ticklishky ran her mouth and fingers all over the soles of my sweaty feet.

"Nwhhh! Hnnhff!! Sthawwppfft, hnhmhnhff!!"

"Oh hush, that any way to talk to your instructor? We got at least a couple more hours of your private lesson to get through. But if thats how it's gonna be, I have my ways of shuttin' you up."

I couldn't even apologize before having her damp dance socks stripped and stuff into my mouth; moist with all of the shuffle steps, axel turns, high kicks she'd done since that morning.

"Hmm, now where was I? Mhmm... See, isn't that much better?" She teased picking right back up with tickling me to shattered pieces.

"Hmmhnmhnm!! Gmmnnhh!!? Hnhmhnhnhh!"

My instructor's own pleasured laughter and giggles echoed louder than my own from under the gag. I was trapped, watching her enjoy herself with a spark of enjoyment and arousal I'd never seen from her before.

Her obsession with my feet was unparalleled. From toe sucking to arch nibbling, to frenzied tickle torture that felt unbearable. The agony of my ticklish peril fueling her to go on.

"Don't hide it sweetheart, I can see it wrritren all over that adorable face of yours. You're enjoying this as much as I am, if not more."

"You had your suspicions, but you stayed late anyway. You let me stock you up. You didn’t fight when I stuffed my socks in your mouth."

Neither her tickles or her teases as she imposed her affection for me and my feet over the course of the evening. Humiliating me to my core, tickling me silly, and calling me out on my own arousal.

The inner confliction between regret and continued interest as she touched and prodded exposed skin. Her smile and judgmental gazes making me blush everytime I glanced at her face.

"Alright dollface, that was fun. I'll come back in a few hours to get you. Don't miss me too much."

[hansmic]

“ʀᴇʟᴀx ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʜᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ..”

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felix x gn! reader

summary: after a long tiring day at work felix knows how to take care of you.

genre: fluff

warnings: suggestive

word count: 1.8k

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Felix had been waiting patiently for you to come home from work, and when you finally arrived, he beamed with excitement. He immediately wrapped his arms around you in a tight, warm hug, burying his face in your shoulder.

"Finally, you're home," he murmured, his voice laced with relief. "I missed you so much." He gently caressed your cheek, his touch gentle and soothing. He pulled you closer, guiding you towards the couch, where he settled down, pulling you into his lap. His arms encircled you, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go.

As you snuggled into Felix's lap, you felt his arms tighten around you, as if he couldn't get enough of your presence. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply.

"Mmm, it feels so good to have you here," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "I've been thinking about you all day."

He began to trace lazy patterns on your back, his fingers moving gently over your skin. The room was filled with a comfortable silence as he reveled in the feeling of having you in his arms.

After a moment, he broke the silence, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"So, tell me about your day," he said, his voice soft and coaxing. "I want to know everything that happened at work."

You smiled, feeling comfortable and at ease in his arms.

"Well, it was a pretty busy day," you replied, your voice slightly muffled as you nuzzled against his chest. "Lots of meetings, deadlines to meet, and paperwork to finish. Typical day at the office, I guess."

You paused for a moment before continuing.

"But the highlight of my day was definitely knowing that I'd be coming home to you."

Felix's grip tightened around you, his heart swelling at your words. He knew how much you worked, and he appreciated the fact that you still looked forward to coming home to him.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, his voice filled with affection. "Working hard, huh? You deserve to relax and unwind now that you're home."

He continued to stroke your back, his fingers tracing light circles over your skin. He could feel the tension slowly leaving your body as you melts into his embrace.

You hummed softly in contentment, feeling the weight of the day slowly lift from your shoulders as Felix continued to hold you close. The rhythmic motion of his hand tracing patterns on your back was soothing, and you found yourself feeling more relaxed than you had in days.

"Mmm, this is nice," you murmured, your voice lazy as you closed your eyes. "Your touch is like magic. I feel all the tension draining away."

Felix chuckled softly at your words, clearly pleased with his ability to soothe you. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"I'm glad I can be here for you like this," he replied. "You deserve to unwind and relax after a long day at work. Just let me take care of you."

As if to emphasize his words, he began to pepper soft kisses along your jawline and neck, his lips trailing a lazy path across your skin.

A small shiver ran through your body as his lips continued to explore your skin. His touch was both gentle and possessive, and you found yourself melting even further into his embrace.

You tilted your head back slightly, allowing him better access to your neck. You let out a soft sigh as he found a particularly sensitive spot, his touch setting your nerve endings on fire.

Felix continued to lavish attention on your neck, his lips and tongue working together to draw out more soft sighs and gasps from you. His hands travelled up and down your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin.

He gently shifted your position in his lap, pulling you tighter against him. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to whisper sweet nothings to you.

He could feel your body responding to his touch, the rising and falling of your chest betraying your growing arousal. He smirked slightly, knowing that he was having the desired effect on you.

His hands began to wander, slowly exploring the curves of your body. One hand slid under the hem of your shirt, gently caressing the bare skin of your waist. The other hand continued to roam up and down your back, tracing random patterns with his fingers.

He could feel the heat radiating from your body, and he couldn't deny the effect you had on him as well. He shifted slightly against you, pressing you closer against his chest. The physical closeness combined with the sensation of your body responding to his touch was driving him wild with desire.

Felix noticed the exhaustion in your eyes and the small yawn that escaped your lips. He chuckled softly and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender and affectionate.

"Looks like you're pretty tired," he said, his voice laced with concern. "You've had a long day, huh?"

You nod in agreement, a tired smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"Yeah, it's been a long day," you admit, your voice slightly hoarse from tiredness and the effects of Felix's touch. "I'm not even sure I have the energy to move right now."

Felix smiles softly, his expression filled with understanding and compassion. He rubs his thumbs gently across your cheeks, his touch soothing and comforting.

"Then don't," he says softly. "Just stay here with me. Relax and let me hold you."

He shifts you slightly so that you're lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest. He wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. He kisses the top of your head tenderly, his fingers stroking your hair in gentle motions.

"Just close your eyes and rest," he whispers. "I've got you."

He continues to hold you close, his chest rising and falling in a slow and steady rhythm. The sound of his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, gradually lulls you into a state of relaxation. The day's exhaustion seems to melt away in his arms, replaced by a sense of warmth and safety.

As you drift off into a light sleep, Felix continues to hold you close, his hand gently caressing your back in slow, soothing motions. He presses another light kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair for a moment before he rests his chin on top.

He watches you sleep, a soft smile on his face. The knowledge that he could provide you with comfort and ease your exhaustion fills him with a sense of contentment.

He pulls a blanket over both of you, ensuring that you are warm and comfortable in his arms. His heart swells with affection as he feels your body relaxes completely against him, your breathing steady and slow as you sleep.

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hope you enjoyed!

masterlist is here

[mmm-eta]

after act 2 I thought Sky is the hexcore manipulating Viktor.

after act 3 I thought Sky is the real Sky, both she and Viktor are being manipulated by hexcore as they see their magic as something good when it actually isn't.

but 1: if that's real Sky why did they change her model

but 2: how can she possibly see their magic as good when it literally killed her? did she thought "it killed me but revived Viktor so it's ok"? alright

then, I believe, when she realized all this evolution is NOT good, it was too late to persuade Viktor. she be "he won't listen to me anyway lol bye" so her death does nothing to his hexdamaged brain.

and then we see Jayce persuading him in like 3 minutes. I'd believe Jayce meant more to Viktor than Sky but it was Sky who was with Viktor all this time when he rejected Jayce right after his resurrection. It was Sky who inspired and guided him in his herald path.

and they made her to be just a metaphor for his humanity to discard when she was a REAL person with her OWN mind and POWER to affect Viktor. well guess she wasn't.

thank you arcane for senseless second fridging of a female character with big ass actual potential. mwah.