#i know the situation sucked for the other 3 cats too

[geddy-leesbian]

I'm trying to think of good things about this year, because god they were few and far between. but it did just hit me how thankful I should be that Jessie is doing okay

He's an old battle scarred cat. We don't know his exact age, but he's definitely ANCIENT. You can tell just looking at him. He was a 100% black cat when we got him. Black whiskers. Then the past couple years they've gone white, and he has more and more random stray whites in his coat everyday. (He's also got his ear scars and missing fang from street fights before we adopted him)

And while we were unaware until 2021, he's also had FIV since before we adopted him. In the summer of 2022, he was diagnosed with cancer. The cancer is kept in remission with medicine, but he still has it.

also in 2021 his vet straight up said to us that he's beyond his expected life span. He's living on borrowed time, and him dying this year wouldn't have come as a surprise, even without all the shit we went through.

Because he was very much affected by it. During the whole month long technically homeless arc, there were multiple times he had to be in a car (along with the other 3 cats) for 5+ hours while we tried to find somewhere to go or waited after asking someone to venmo us enough to get a hotel for a night until my mom got paid. And when he wasn't in a car, he was in hotel rooms, which I know stressed him out because he's a very street smart cat and quickly understood that each hotel was temporary and he'd get moved again in a few days.

So the fact that he's still with us, still healthy, is absolutely insane when I think about it.

[f1amour]

✧˚ · . make me juno

pairing | max verstappen x popstar!reader

word count | 2.3k

content warnings | some social media au, established relationship, smitten max, light dom!max, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, brief choking kink, praise kink, squirting, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, cock warming, teasing, unprotected sex — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | happy belated birthday to max #1 certified cat lover <3

navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist.

yourusername juno out now available to download and stream! happy birthday baby 💋🤍

tagged — maxverstappen

comments below…

user1 MAX MUSIC VIDEO DEBUT

user2 begged for a cameo from max and we got a whole ass film 🧎‍♀️

yourusername my man is too hot for only a small cameo. made sure to showcase his actor side>>>

landonorris i did NOT have to watch an 8 minute film of you and max being horny. disgusting.

yourusername the first minute of the video was horny you could have exited but you watched the whole thing. our biggest fan 🥹🫶🏼

landonorris fuck off

maxverstappen1 wanna say that again?

landonorris 🏃‍♂️💨

user3 max trying to be serious through the video but breaks into a smile anytime y/n would sing to him 😭

user4 they just broke the internet with this video

user5 never thought i would see max and y/n horny on main in 2024

user6 did you guys not listen to her latest album? girl gave us a whole ass ovulation album. GIVE HER A BABY MAX!

maxverstappen1 i’m trying

─────────────────────────

being with max for five years now you’d grown used to knowing his likes and dislikes; both in & out of bed.

especially in bed.

“have you always been this keen on having kids? even before me?” you manage to spit out while sitting on max’s lap, his lips prepping kisses all over your neck and chest.

you had just spent the day celebrating his birthday on a yacht with all of yours and max’s close friends and family so he had been extra needy arriving home since he couldn’t have his way with you all day with everyone surrounding both of you.

his lips detach from your neck looking you in the eyes full of love, “i’ll remind you any chance i get when it comes to that, you are the reason i want a family. the reason i see myself being your husband and father of our children before you i never saw that with anyone else.” max would take any chance to remind you how ready he was to be your husband and have kids with you.

“i don’t want to wait anymore. not for the wedding or the babies…i want it now.” you whisper desperately clinging onto max. his eyes widen at your statement, “now?”

“we’ll have the wedding after the baby is born. we can go to to the courthouse this week and make it official just us two. don’t you want that, maxie?” sitting on his lap grinding against his hardened cock make it even more difficult for him to say the words.

“yes…fuck yes of course, baby. i don’t want to wait any longer to have you as my wife. gonna fuck you so full of my cum tonight and make you a mommy. god i can’t wait any longer.” his hands cupping your face and pulling you into a hungry and messy kiss. both of you quickly removing your clothes off each other desperately needing to feel as close as possible.

you start getting on your knees but max pulls you back up, “as much as i want you on your knees stuffed with my cock in your mouth, i need to taste you.” his words immediately taking affect on your core.

“b-but it’s your birthday…w-w-wanna gi—.” your words stutter out, after placing you on the bed hovering over you his lips meet your neck down to your stomach before he situates himself between your thighs.

“getting to taste you is the best gift i could ever get.” your legs squeeze his head, thighs keeping him close to your pussy as he licks, laps, and sucks until you're close to the edge.

"’m so close, max, so close," you feel like you're in a trance as his fingers hook inside of you brushing your g-spot. he presses his palm into your lower tummy, applying gentle pressure as you nearly thrash under him from how intense the buildup is.

"cum for me, baby. make a mess all over my face," he growls before you feel yourself snapping as your orgasm flows through you. max rides you through the orgasm, tongue lapping at your core as your legs are left shaking.

“max…” you gasp out of breath as cleans you with his tongue, your fingers slowly caressing his hair. he

"you are so perfect, baby." he cooes, thumb resting on your lip as you part your mouth and bite down on it. you feel him stiffen under you, "ik hou van je. (i fucking love you)" he groans under his breath as you wrap your lips around his thumb.

"my fingers look so good shoved in your mouth," he purrs, hearing you whimper as he massages your pelvis. you can feel yourself growing wetter, the heaviness in your mouth feels comfortable before his lips are on yours.

"shit," he hisses, "i’m done waiting…i’ll take my time with you later.”

he doesn't give you a chance to speak before he's fisting his cock, lining up with your entrance, and pushing in "fuck, fuck," his voice is low and raspy, the feeling of him sinking into you, whispering out a various dutch words as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

"this," he thrusts, slamming the headboard against the wall,"is what l've been fuckin' cravin. can’t wait to see you round and full." his thrusts are deep and slow before he can't hold back and he's fucking you into the mattress, loud moans and skin slapping are the only sounds filling the room.

your walls flutter around his cock and you're coming for the second time that night, "gonna have you cum a few more times, baby. keeping us up all night and make sure i get you pregnant." he snaps, bed in shambles as it creaks and squeaks before his own thrusts are growing sloppy.

"gonna fill you up," he moans, "fuck, you're gonna be so fuckin' stuffed. looking so perfect carrying our babies." his breathing is laboured, chasing his release before it hits him and he’s spilling inside you.

you stay close together for a brief moment before you both are desperate for another round, trying to rock your hips because he's still hard inside of you, "max…," you plead. "need more. please, please, please.”

he chuckles deeply at your desperation, "yeah?" he switches your positions, flipping over, lying on his back as you're straddling him and you fall into his chest because he’s impossibly deep, you were sure you’d come right there once again just from that position

you rock your hips, steadying yourself over his chest as he groans, "that's my good girl, you feel so fucking good like this. my soon to be wife. mother of our babies. i love you.” he’s lost himself in you, unable to form a coherent sentence as you lose yourself in the feeling of riding him like never before.

his sweet words and whines coming from his mouth have you quicken your movements, "you feel so good, max," you mumble, "all yours, baby. i’m all yours," he groans, digging his fingers into your skin as he meets your thrusts.

“how you doing, baby? you okay?” despite being deep inside you he slows down checking on you. he was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him but he was still hard as a fucking rock with your cunt clenching around him.

you nod giving him a smile, “m’ okay…getting sleepy,” you mumble out before pulling him closer to you (if that was even possible), “fill me up one more time, maxie. then we take a nap…and go again.”

despite being completely exhausted from the hours of fucking you wanted max to ensure you were pregnant by the end of the break. you were ready to become his wife and now have his babies as soon as possible.

his thrusts are deep and slow while you two conversed until your last sentence he can't hold back and he is fucking you senselessly now giving deep and rough thrusts, your moans filling the room chanting his name.

"come on, baby. cum 'round my cock, yeah…fuck," he hisses when you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him inside of you as he comes inside you once again.

catching your breaths you lay on top of him now, his cock buried inside you, “can’t believe we’ve been awake all night.” you chuckle against his chest while his hand plays with your hair.

“i have a month of uninterrupted free time with you and i’m gonna take advantage of that.” max kisses your head and you close your eyes getting comfortable in his arms.

“remember when we first met?” you ask him, knowing he’d go on a yap session about it. he would talk about it to anyone who asked and you loved him so much for knowing the small things just from the first moment you met.

“do i remember? how could i forget when you assumed i was a mechanic instead of the driver? oh and your perfect smile—.”

2018

meeting at the united states gp in austin the year of 2018 you were just 19 years old on your first world tour of your singing career. you had a concert on the first day of the race weekend so you met a few of the drivers and you tried your best to remember their names but there was so many.

max had been watching your performance with a huge smile on his face, he was in a meeting causing him to miss the introductions most of the drivers had with you. but here he was waiting for you at the side of the stage to introduce himself. he had grown to be a fan the last few months and when he found out you’d be performing at the austin gp he was counting down the days.

“hi i’m max…i’m with redbull—.”

you had gotten off stage ecstatic with the crowd cheering you on to be meet with a slightly taller guy dressed in some jeans and a white jacket paired with a redbull hat. the redbull hat made you assume he was a mechanic for the team so you cut him off, “oh nice to meet you! i’m y/n, how is it like working on the cars for redbull? you’re a mechanic right?”

max was confused at the question many things did not make sense when you asked but he assumed you didn’t know much of the sport (which was very true). he decided to go alone with it appreciating the chance to speak with you just for a few minutes before you were pulled away again for some interviews.

few weeks later he got your number from lewis who had been a mentor in your life for awhile now being in the limelight at a young age he took you under his wing. after checking with you first he gave max your number sending you a text and getting his full name you search him up on instagram realizing he wasn’t a mechanic but a goddamn driver for redbull racing.

lewis couldn’t help but laugh at your cluelessness when it came to the sport only sending him messages if he won not caring for any other drivers; until now.

after many apologies through the phone and max waving it off as something to laugh about. you grew a close friendship with him for the next year waiting patiently for him to ask you out.

PRESENT

“i had to wait a year before i got the balls to ask you out and then—oh.” he chuckles stopping mid sentence looking down at you realizing you had fallen asleep. he gives your head a kiss and falls into some much needed sleep alongside you.

you had woken up a few minutes ago with your back against max’s chest settling between his thighs. he had been playing with you hair until his hands started wandering down your body, “max…” you sigh contently feeling his finger play with your clit.

when two fingers slip through your folds, an obscene moan runs through you before they're filling you up. "that's my good girl, look at how well you're taking my fingers," he cooes, fingers curled deep inside you.

"that feels good, doesn't it, baby?" he taunts, you nodded your head, eager to feel his fingers moving some more as you rocked your hips in sync.

the pressure building up made you squirm, max was edging you and now you were nearly in tears, “oh…oh god,” whispering as you beg him to let you cum.

"that's it, my pretty girl," he hummed, “love hearing your moans, love feeling you cum, baby. squeezing my fingers with your tight pussy. gonna have your pussy squeezing my cock after this.”

"fuck," max groans, your orgasm gushes out of you; soaking his hand and bed sheets. you pant trying to catch your breath, "think we need to get ready for the day...we can't stay in bed forever. i wanna take you to a cat cafe--."

"just one more for me, schatje, one more and then we go to all the cat cafes we want," he smiles sweetly, kissing your neck finding your sweet spot and getting a moan out of you. how could you deny him?

pulling you in for a passionate kiss he flips you around and looks you in the eyes filled with lust, "wanna try another position?" he mumbles against your lips and you nod, not having to tell him the one you wanna try because he knows it's your favorite.

with your face pressed into the bedsheets and ass up in the air he gives you a soft slap before sliding his cock deep inside your aching cunt, "fucking christ...shit," he groans with each deep thrust your walls squeeze him.

"not gonna last, max..." you whine, your hands grip the sheets as he gives you a rough slap on your ass, "me neither, baby. you gonna cum with me? come on, schat. gonna fill your tight pussy with my cum and make you mine forever." his thrusts growing faster and sloppier, but his words have you pushing back against him meeting his hips.

"yes, yes, yes...wanna have your baby please fill me up, maxie," he pushes you up against his chest his hand wrapping around your throat squeezing it lightly. it was more than enough for you to ride out yet another orgasm, "that's it, baby. make a mess all over my cock." he groans feeling your walls flutter around him, with a few more thrusts his cum fills you up.

your heavy pants fill the room, feeling him pull out of you after a few minutes making sure each drop of his cum filled you up he flips you over laying you down and grabbing a warm towel to clean you up, "doing okay, my darling?" he smiles down at your loopy grin.

"so good. i love you." you tell him once he finishes cleaning you up and settling in bed for a few minutes before you go and shower. "i love you more. best birthday ever." max tells you, and he meant it being the best birthday especially if you do end up pregnant.

you run your fingers along his jaw, "think you made me juno yet?" you smile sheepishly at him and you both break out into a fit of laughter, "well if that didn't, we'll just have to keep on going until you are."

[copperbadge]

I found myself wishing the other day that humans had to sleep for an hour every 2-3 hours. I think this would solve a lot of problems and create a bunch of interesting new ones!

1. Publicly available places to sleep would be commonplace because you'd want to just sleep where you are and keep getting stuff done. You don't want to be commuting to work every 2 hours for example. So you'd do like three waking shifts and then go home for a while, and you'd have a comfy place to sleep at work.

2. I would never have to spend more than two hours doing any one thing and if I did I'd get a break in the middle and wouldn't have to come up with an excuse to go.

3. Clothing would need to be mainly sleepable. Goodbye business casual! Also people who hate getting dressed up fancy (ie me) would have their sacrifice properly appreciated since getting dressed up takes time and demonstrates commitment.

4. Movies would never go more than two hours without an intermission.

5. On the downside, studies have shown that one of the biggest perils to the health of a person in the hospital is the number of times staff changes over while they're there. More handoffs of patients does correlate with more medical errors. If you're handing off every two hours, or four hours at a push, either a bunch more people die, or medical communication has to be a lot better....

6. Which is actually an upside I guess. Probably extends to shift work too, like heavy construction and such.

7. Insomnia in this sort of situation must REALLY suck, though.

8. I suppose it would also suck for people who are Bad At Mornings, I've just vastly multiplied the number of mornings you have to deal with over the course of your life. If you live to the age of 80, you will have had about 29,000 mornings. If you had to sleep eight times a day, you would have like 230,000 mornings.

9. We would probably do something terrible to the ecology of Earth in order to grow enough coffee to deal with that.

10. Driving in traffic or taking long road trips might be logistically complicated. Most plane flights would need like four teams of pilots. Might lead to more mass transit, though.

11. Marathon running just got harder, but I know marathoners and they're all deep weirdos to start with so they'd probably embrace the challenge.

12. I get terrible bed head and would spend most of my time looking like I'd been dragged out of a tree.

I'm sure there are unknown horrors lurking in the idea, but I still like it. I bet all cats everywhere would appreciate it too.

[hard-core-super-star]

Hey rubix!! I just watched the marvels and I LOVED it!!! I was wondering if you could do a carol x reader fic where Carol is introducing her gf to Monica and Kamala and they just click really quickly and bond 😭

I’m going on a carol rampage atm bc she just looked too GOOD 🤭

- ✨

if forever will have me [C.Danvers]

paring: carol danvers x reader

summary: your girlfriend brings two stowaways on board after a rough mission, you welcome them with open arms while carol tries to adjust.

warnings: none?; fluff with minimal plot; carol's a dorky mess and we love her for it; brief emotional moments but nothing too drastic; R's a mom friend in this one frfr; not proofread; i still suck at endings

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: I AM SO SORRY FOR TAKING OVER A YEAR TO WRITE THIS 😭 you deserved so much better, lovely anon, please forgive me. in an effort to make it up to you, i turned this into a longer fic than i originally planned, and sort of tweaked the movie plot a little because i felt it was missing a few scenes like this. i really hope you enjoy (and that i didn't totally forget how to write for carol) and once again, i'm so sorry for taking so long to write this. hopefully, there'll be more carol fic in the making soon <3

* * * * * * *

To say you were worried about Carol would be an understatement. 

While it wasn't completely unusual to go a few days without hearing from her, thanks to how chaotic her job could get, she always made sure to update you as soon as possible. Especially when you were staying in her spaceship catsitting.

Truth be told, Goose didn't really need babysitting. Mainly because more often than not, Carol just took the alien cat with her, both for comfort and companionship. However, it gave the blonde the perfect excuse to convince you to join her.

Again, you didn't really need convincing, but it made your girlfriend feel better when you were brought on board as part of her team. Her "team" being you and her...and Goose...and the occasional call from Nick Fury...and King Valkyrie. As much as the blonde insisted she preferred working alone, she was surrounded by a pretty badass support system.

Said support system wasn't enough to help her with her newest problem, though.

A problem that even you weren't qualified to help her with.

Ship full of homeless Skrulls and emotional visit from the King of Asgard aside, it was nice to have other people aboard. Even if one of those people was Carol's sort of adopted (and abandoned) daughter and the other one was a teenage girl who was quite literally Captain Marvel's biggest fan. They might not have been your first choice of companions, but you were nothing if not a welcoming host.

As soon as King Valkyrie transported the Skrull refugees back to Asgard with her, you made your way to your girlfriend's side.

"Hey," you say, you hand reaching out to take hers. "Rough day?"

Your words make her chuckle despite herself. "That's an understatement."

"What do you need from me?"

"Just...don't let go."

Her arms envelop you before you can even try to question her. You happily return her embrace, allowing her to bury her face against your shoulder and let out the heaviest sigh you've heard in a while. She doesn't have to say anything for you to known she's trying to decompress after the shit show that's gone down.

You hold the blonde close as you run your hand up and down her back, eyes bouncing back and forth between Monica and Carol's biggest fan. As awkward as it is for you, you can't imagine it's any easier for them so, you break the silence.

"Cool ship, right?"

They both nod, although the older of the two looks anywhere but you. You can't really blame her considering her history with Carol and how weird the whole situation is. A situation you still don't know any details of.

"Is, uh, is she okay?" The younger brunette ask.

"Oh, yeah, she's just...recharging."

Your girlfriend grumbles something in response, but you don't pay her any mind. It's not your fault she's literally a human lamp.

You sidestep the two of you until you're out of sight. It's not like you want to be secretive or anything, there's just a higher chance the blonde will tell you what's wrong if it's just the two of you.

"Hey, babe," you murmur.

She grumbles once more, slowly detaching herself from your neck. The glassiness of her eyes instantly makes alarms ring in your head.

"Carol-"

Your girlfriend instantly shrugs you off. "I'm fine, I just...need some time."

As badly as you want to argue with her, the last thing she needs right now is more difficulties.

"So, you're just going to leave me here with your new friends?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"You'll be fine, it's not like they're too happy with me either right now."

She tries to laugh it off, but you're no fool. You can see the heaviness on her shoulders, the far-away look in her eye that can't mean anything good. As badly as you want to go with her, you know she needs some time to catch her breath on her own.

So, you let her go, leaving you alone with the newest members of your unofficial team.

Not even five seconds go by before the silence is interrupted by the young brunette. "I didn't know Captain Marvel had a girlfriend."

"Does that mean no one talks about me in the fan forums?"

"That's probably for the best."

You cross the small space until you're in front of them, offering them the warmest smile you can muster. "Listen, I know this situation isn't ideal, but it's nice to have other people on the ship."

Monica gives you the smallest of smiles in response, which might not be much, but it's a start. A start you're not about to waste.

"Let's start over, yeah?" You say, somewhat aware of how shitty they must be feeling too, if Carol's barely hidden emotions are anything to go by. "I'm y/n, this ship's second captain."

"Kamala." She eagerly shakes your hand. "This ship's nice. Actually, it's really awesome."

"I know," you whisper in response, earning yourself a brighter smile.

Once Kamala finally releases your hand, you turn to face the older brunette. The soft look in her eyes does little to soothe your nervousness. You'd imagined meeting her many times before, although under much better circumstances.

"Oh, I'm Monica, but I'm assuming you already knew that."

"Yeah, it's really nice to meet you."

The sincerity in your voice seems to catch her off-guard, but she recovers before you can call her out on it. And by recover, all she really does is sidestep the conversation you need to have.

"Do you think Carol needs help?" She asks.

"Oh, she needs a lot of help but good luck getting through to her," you reply with an affectionate roll of your eyes.

Kamala barely stifles a laugh at your words, clearly enjoying the dynamic you're starting to form with them. While Carol wasn't exactly hard to read, she could be a little rough around the edges at first, especially when placed in stressful situations she feels responsible for.

Monica, on the other hand, lets out a long sigh. "I meant with the ship."

"Oh, yeah, probably. Just know she'll say no if you ask her."

"Yeah, I had a feeling."

 There's an edge of nostalgia to her words that you understand all too well. As badly as you want to talk to her about it, to reassure her that what happened wasn't her fault, that Carol still cares, you know it's not your place.

Unfortunately, you're also aware of how awkward your girlfriend can be. It's as endearing as it is frustrating.

While Monica goes down to the ship's engine room to talk to Carol, you stay with Kamala. 

You let her admire the place for a few moments before you speak up again. "Hey, you okay? Want to talk about what happened?"

Her eyes remain glued to Goose, busying herself with petting her even while she responds to your question. "You mean how I totally got scolded by my idol?"

You honestly have no idea what she's talking about, but you want her to feel supported, so you nod anyway. "Sure, if you want to."

The only response you get for a few seconds is a heavy sigh. You can see her shoulders slumping forward as she allows herself to finally accept how she's feeling. "I really didn't think our first meeting would go like this. It was supposed to be cooler, y'know? Full of bonding and really funny jokes and me getting to show off my awesome powers. Instead, I just messed up and made THE Captain Marvel mad."

You do your best to stifle the laughter that threatens to bubble up inside your throat. The last thing you want to do is invalidate her feelings but...you can't deny how amusing her rambling is.

"Sweetheart, I promise you Carol's not mad at you and I don't even know what happened. She's just protective. And really stubborn. And not the best team player."

Your words seem to bring little comfort to her. "I just...I don't want to disappoint her."

Kamala's voice breaks at the end, leading you to spring into action faster than you can even process. Even though you're not exactly sure how to comfort her, you know you have to do something. At least until Carol comes back.

"Hey," you say as you walk over to her, your arms wide open for her. "You won't. You're not going to disappoint anyone, okay? I guarantee you Carol's beating herself up for yelling at you. She's a captain, not a tyrant."

Your words make her chuckle even as she accepts the hug offer. She might not fully believe you right now, but that's okay. All that matters to you is that she doesn't feel like an outsider. Because as weird as it might be, you're all in this together now and that means being there for each other.

A few seconds go by before she speaks up again.

"Hey, um...is there somewhere I could shower?"

"Yeah, let me show you."

You show Kamala to the bathroom, helping her figure out how the shower works and giving her some of Carol's oversized clothes to wear. It's a small thing, but you hope it'll help her feel a little more at home in your large spaceship. It'd taken you a long time to get used to the whole being in space thing too.

Once you get back to the main area, you find Monica again, a thin layer of tears making her brown eyes sparkle. You're not exactly sure how to approach her, or if she even wants to be approached, but you know you have to do something. As much as you love Carol, you don't trust she didn't accidentally stick her foot in her mouth.

Monica watches you approach, silently analyzing your next move.

As much as you want to simply walk away, you can't. Not when you know how hard your girlfriend has been on herself about what happened with Monica and her mom.

"It's been hard for her too, y'know?" You say with a soft smile.

She blinks a few times, seemingly trying to hide how affected she is. "Oh, I don't...I'm fine."

Maybe you should leave it alone, it's technically none of your business, and yet...you can't stop yourself from prying a little. Mainly since you're also acutely aware of the team-up situation they find themselves in. The last thing they needis to be at each other's throats because of their past.

"Yeah? Is that why you can't look at Carol for more than five seconds?"

Her jaw clenches at that, but you stand firm. Or as firm as you can be when you're staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. The gun in question being Monica's exasperated expression.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

Despite her attempt at sounding mad, the way her voice cracks reveals the true feelings lingering under the surface. The ones she's been pushing down for who knows how long.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But I know she's been beating herself up for not coming back sooner. I know she spent the majority of the last five years talking about your mom. About you. You're her family. The only one she has left."

Monica tries her hardest to appear unaffected, but the change in her expression says it all. Her eyes soften as her jaw unclenches, her bottom lip trembling just the slightest bit to let you know you've cracked her defenses.

"She has you."

Her words are soft. Not really a complaint or an argument. Simply a statement. One that makes your face flush despite your hardest efforts.

"That's not...you know what I mean."

For once, she drops the cool act. "I do, but my point still stands. You're her family too. And honestly? I think she needs you more than I do right now."

You let out a soft chucke. "Yeah, I can't argue with that. You'll be okay?"

The question is far more loaded than you realize and yet, she nods. "Yeah, I think so."

With that, you make your way back to Carol, not at all surprised to find her muttering under her breath as she paces back and forth. "Everything okay, Captain?"

She stops in her tracks the second she hears your voice. "Something like that. It's been a long day."

"Tell me about it, it seems you've brought out some strong emotions in everyone."

"Yeah." The blonde does her best to glue a smirk onto her face, but she fails miserably. If anything, her smile comes off more like a grimace than anything.

You cross the space between you in an instant. "How are you holding up?"

She answers your question with one of her own. "How's Kamala doing? I shouldn't have yelled at her earlier."

As much as you hate her tendency to side-step talking about how she's feeling, you allow it. Clearly, you're not the only one who's gotten attached to the young girl. "She's okay, maybe a little upset, but nothing a warm shower can't fix."

A long sigh escapes her and even though you want nothing more than you wrap her up in your arms, you hold back. As difficult as it is, you wait for her to show you what she needs. "This is why I don't work with a team. I'm awful at it."

You can't stop yourself from poking fun at her. "You're literally a captain, though."

This time, the smile that crosses her face looks warmer. Real in a way you're used to. "That's not funny."

"I thought it was hilarious."

You wrap your arms around her neck before she can complain about your shitty jokes, pulling her closer. She catches on pretty quickly and wraps her arms around your waist before she leans in to capture your lips in a slow kiss.

The moment ends far too quickly for your liking.

Her forehead rests against your own, her blue eyes sparkling with emotions you know she can't fully put into words. Not that you'd ever force her.

That being said, you wish you didn't know exactly where things were going.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" You ask even though you already know the answer.

"Nope." She pecks your lips before you can protest. "I have enough to worry about, I can't put you in the line of fire too."

"You know I don't mind. I want to be here for you."

Her hand leaves your waist to trail her finger up your arm. She grips your wrist and slowly brings it away from her neck and toward her chest. "I know, princess, but I have to do this on my own. I have to fix my mistakes."

You find yourself huffing in response. "I hate it when you get all serious like that."

She chuckles, bringing your wrist up to her lips for a few lingering kisses. "I'll come back to you before you know it. Promise."

"I'll be waiting, Captain."

You pull her back in without another word, knowing full well you'll both keep to your promises.

[residentrookie]

jegulus dads ‘i frew up 🧍’ microfic— 1313 words; sorry guys i was brain rotting too hard about this one (cw: mentions of throwing up)

in all his 27 years, regulus has never been a deep sleeper. so when the door to the bedroom creaks open at 3 in the morning, his eyes open with it. the room is still pitch black, and he wonders groggily if boots (their cat) pawed it open when a tiny, weak voice whimpers, “daddy?”

regulus is launching up in bed and turning towards the voice of his five year old son before thinking twice.

“what, baby? what is it?”

at his sudden movement, james shoots up in bed next to him. “—whatisit. haz?” he mumbles, flicking on a lamp and dousing the room in light.

there stands harry in his spiderman jams, hair an absolute bird’s nest and tears streaming from his big green eyes and down his sweet cheeks. regulus’ eyes water instinctively just looking at him. before having kids, regulus never knew what it was to empathize so automatically with someone else— but he felt harry’s emotions right along with him, the joy, the sorrow, and the pain too.

“i—“ harry starts, then sucks in a big stuttering breath, clearly trying to be a brave boy and not cry, “i-i threw u-up.”

at the admission he wails, like he’s just confessed to the most abhorrent sin and will now have to face the wrath of his two loving fathers, who are so light on punishments they sometimes worry harry will end up being the most spoiled brat alive. james and regulus share a quick look, what regulus would consider the “dad” look, before throwing back the covers and rising quickly.

surprisingly, they’ve planned for this. years ago. when they first started dating. james had asked regulus about this very scenario, and after minutes of regulus whining about never wanting children in the first place—so why does it even matter, james— he’d made his position clear.

“i don’t do vomit.” regulus told him firmly. “absolutely not.”

james had laughed. “fine by me. if you only knew how much of my friends vomit i’ve had to clean up over the years. i don’t even blink at it anymore.”

thus the responsibilities of this hypothetical situation were assigned. james was on vomit duty. regulus was on comfort duty.

“not sure i’ll be any good at that either,” regulus had said grudgingly, but james had just smiled knowingly, able to see a future that regulus couldn’t yet imagine.

james makes it to harry first and scoops him up promptly, letting him bury his face in his neck and sob. regulus comes up behind them and snuggles up to harry, kissing his small head and whispering reassurances.

“shhhh don’t cry, it’s okay, haz. does your tummy hurt?” james asks calmly, rocking them all back and forth soothingly.

regulus pulls back and watches harry nod. his cheek is rosy and hot when regulus puts his hand to it.

“come on, baby, let’s go take care of it okay?” regulus tells him, and james deposits their still-sniffling son into his husbands open arms.

“you know what time it is?” james asks, wiggling his brows. harry just sniffs and shakes his head. “time to be superdad,” james tells him, pointing at his faded superman t-shirt. then he gives an animated salute, puts one fist on his hip and the other high in the sky before jetting out of the room with some impressive ‘flying sounds’ that manage to make harry smile a little before he remembers that he’s actually very upset right now. regulus shakes his head at his wonderfully ridiculous spouse and starts towards the stairs, feeling harry’s hot tears gather in the crook of his neck.

after giving harry some medicine, they settle on the couch downstairs, harry in regulus lap and clinging to him. regulus rocks them for a few minutes, letting harry’s breaths slow as he calms down.

“papa?” harry sniffles suddenly, his voice so small.

“yes, sweetheart?” regulus asks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“we need to have a funeral. like how we did for bobbi.”

regulus blinks. bobbi, harry’s goldfish, had died three days after james brought him home, leaving the two of them to explain the complicated matter of death to their three and a half year old. so harry had a vague idea of the concept and of funerals, though his only exposure has been the meager ceremony they’d patched together and held in their garden. sirius had given a speech and peter had cried.

“what? why?” regulus demands, scanning his son’s face. his bottom lip pokes out as his eyes fill with tears yet again.

“b-because i think i killed hippo,” he wails. “i-i threw up all over him— a-and ron said that throw up is like— like how supervillains spit out the acid and k-kill the good guys—“

regulus closes his eyes briefly, exhaling in relief. he makes a mental note to tell james to cool it on the superhero movies for a while— clearly it’s getting into harry’s head.

“no baby, hippo is fine. he just needs to go for a swim in the wash, and then he’ll come out as good as new.”

harry peels his head back from regulus’ chest, blinking up at home hopefully. “really?”

“really. i bet daddy has already put him in. shall we go check on him just to be sure?”

“yes, please,” harry says, politely. oddly, it makes regulus think of his mother, of how she had demanded her boys to be polite above all else, even in the face of abuse and neglect. james and regulus had done absolutely everything differently, and harry still turned out to be the sweetest boy on the planet. walburga can fucking suck it.

pushing aside the thoughts of his mother, regulus rises with harry still perched on his hip. they walk back upstairs, peeking their heads into the laundry room to find james, metaphorical sleeves rolled up as he hums to himself, rummaging through their linens. regulus truly married the only person in the world who can sing while cleaning up vomit at 3 in the morning.

james turns and smiles at them in the doorway. “my boys!” he says cheerfully, crossing the room to give harry a smooch on the head.

“he’s worried about hippo, darling,” regulus explains. “can you show him how he’s just gone for a dip in the wash?”

“who, hippo?” james asks. “oh he’s great. you know what he told me haz?” he leans forward as if confiding a secret, “he told me he’s been wanting a bubble bath for sooo long and he’s sooo happy he finally got the chance. he even said to tell you thank you!”

harry giggles. “no he didn’t. he doesn’t talk.”

james gasps. “well he certainly talks to me, harry. we’re the best of friends.”

“i thought papa was your best friend,” harry says and james’ face melts into the gentlest smile.

“that’s true, too. it’s a tie between hippo and papa.”

regulus rolls his eyes as harry laughs. they go over and stand in front of the washer. the top is clear, so harry can see all his stuffies (including hippo) swirl around in the sudsy water. after several moments of watching them spin, james nudges regulus, inclining his head towards harry.

regulus looks down to see their baby’s eyes closed, head heavy, cheek squished against his chest.

“his bed has fresh sheets,” james whispers but regulus isn’t quite ready to let him go. he looks up at james with a pleading face.

james, try as he might, has never excelled at being the hardass parent. so when regulus takes their son back into their bedroom, depositing him under the covers between the two of them, james just smiles and shakes his head. they climb into bed and turn towards harry, two parenthesis enclosing the small shape of their son, cradling him and keeping him safe.

regulus sleeps long and deep, one hand laced with his husband’s, the other resting on his son’s dark head.

[lovelylotusf1]

yukierre + marking/possessiveness

rubs hands evilly

Baby's first yukierre! i turned this around in my brain a little too much, which is why it took so long, sorry! Hope you like it <3

(For the kink prompts, feel free to send some!)

“Be careful, Yukino,” Pierre says, clawing at Yuki's back, fingers digging into the fabric of Yuki's shirt like a cat attacking its owner after showing its belly. Like he isn't sure whether he'll actually allow Yuki to do this.

Above him, Yuki rolls his eyes. “You wouldn't die from hickeys. You give them to me all the time and I am not dead.”

Pierre snorts. It lightens the charged air around them a little bit, the way they can still joke around when Yuki is basically straddling him.

“You are scaring me, Yuki. Now I think you will kill me. Maybe you are poisonous like a snake.”

Yuki laughs. “Don't be stupid, Pierre. Or do you wish to admit that you're a chicken and a liar. Saying you would do this when you lose and then not doing it.”

Pierre shuts up quickly after that. He hates and loves how Yuki knows him this well, knows that playing off of Pierre's ego is the best way to get him to do something.

The thing is, this whole thing was meant as a joke. A stupid challenge Pierre thought he would win no matter what. Whoever wins their golf match gets to mark the other up. Of course Pierre thought he would win, else he wouldn't have challenged Yuki in the first place.

But now he's here, heart hammering in his chest and cock twitching pathetically in his pants just at the thought of what's about to happen.

Yuki leans down and Pierre gasps as he feels the wetness of Yuki's mouth against his neck. Instinctively, he tilts his head back to give Yuki better access. And lets out a high whine when Yuki sucks the first mark of the evening into his skin.

Yuki’s not careful about it. He immediately goes all in, the same way as he races. Sees the gap and goes for it, full throttle. The gap in this situation being Pierre going slack, melting into the soft mattress and letting out needy sounds he never thought he could make.

Liquid fire runs through Pierre's veins when he hears himself, rushing up to his face to match the colour of his newly acquired hickeys. Every lick and bite at his neck is another zap of electricity travelling through him, and his hips start moving all by themselves.

“You like that?” Yuki asks as if Pierre isn't unabashedly rubbing his cock against Yuki's ass. As if Pierre isn't whimpering like he's going to fall apart any second now.

“Shut uh—” Pierre’s words teeter off into a loud moan as Yuki places another hickey right over his collarbone.

Yuki smiles at him, and out of all of Yuki's smiles that Pierre has memorised like a well-loved book, none of them have had this pure hunger to them. “You like everyone knowing you're mine?”

And oh. Pierre hadn't let himself go there.

Sure, he likes people knowing that Yuki belongs to him. Likes to throw his arms around him in public, to put him in headlocks, to grab him and squeeze him and make him laugh the way he only does with Pierre. But until now, Pierre had pushed the thought of him being the one who Yuki is possessive over to the back of his mind.

Pierre keens, arching his back and pressing Yuki closer at the same time. Imagines how he must look right now, blushing and desperate, skin blooming with red and purple marks. Letting everyone know that he's taken. That he belongs to Yuki.

“Pierre, I asked something.”

Pierre groans. “Yes. Yes I like it.”

As if to reward him, Yuki licks a wet stripe over his neck before he bites down once more. Maybe he found a spot that isn't marked already. Maybe he won't stop until there is no place left on Pierre's skin that's untouched by Yuki. Pierre makes a strangled noise.

Yuki pulls away with a pop, a string of spit connecting his mouth to Pierre's skin. “But if you enjoy it, then it isn’t really a punishment for losing. It's a bit unfair.”

Pierre's head has started spinning so fast, he doesn't quite comprehend what Yuki is saying. For a second, he thinks that maybe Yuki slipped into Japanese before Pierre's brain finally catches up with what Yuki wants.

It takes him longer than he would have liked to form a coherent sentence that's more than just quiet whimpers. And still, he ends up sounding whiny and out of breath. “But that is what we said. You cannot change the terms, Yukino.”

“I could,” Yuki replies. “And maybe I could fuck you this time. Isn't this also marking? What do you say?”

Yuki sounds so nonchalant. As if he's talking about a new kind of sushi he tried out today and not as if he tilted Pierre's entire world on its axis.

Still, all Pierre can do is moan and nod. And spread his legs so Yuki knows his answer.

[hoonvrs]

ROUND AND AROUND — n. riki

req for 1k event!

PROMPT  [ two, 9 ] picking you up and twirling you when they’re excited 

PAIRING riki x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNINGS none

W. COUNT 0.6k

S. NOTE last but not least my baby riki. this is the last req from my event ( long overdue ik but shhh ) but I tried to make it a little special for my special boy and i genuinely had fun writing this so hopefully it’s good <3

also the title being one of my fave songs ever. jo yuri u will be punished for making it so so short

the sounds of machines beeping and other teenagers screaming rang through your ears as you walked through the arcade hand-in hand with riki. walking past all the friends playing with the claw machines before you pulled him back towards one that caught your eyes.

“oh my god, how cute!” you said, digging through your pocket to ply one round before you felt riki push you away to take your place.

you see him slot in a coin as he bends down a little to grab the joystick, posture relaxed “i’m an expert, watch me get it on the first try for you.”

fast forward, it’s been over half an hour and still no plushie in sight. your competitive boyfriend refuses to give up after many failed attempts, something about not letting a stupid machine hurt his ‘manly’ pride. he was hunched over the control keys, knees bent, as he followed the claw using his whole upper body.

after another fail you begin to tug at the bottom of his shirt, “come on, babe. we all know they’re rigged, and you’ve already spent too much on it.”

you see him huff under his breath, annoyance starting to show through his face still adamant on winning. suddenly shooting up straight, startling you as he whips his head towards you. If there was a lightbulb above his head, it would’ve turned on, “hug me.”

“what?” you looked at him confused, seeing him looking completely serious.

“hug me, you’re my lucky charm,” he grabbed your arms, encouraging you to wrap around his waist, and how could you say no after all the effort — and money — he has used to discourage him now? so, slowly wrapping your arms around him wasn’t the problem, but the awkward situation it left you in with him slightly bending into you.

trying to ignore the questioning glances thrown your way by people just trying to walk past you two as riki goes back into focus with a deep breath.

you couldn’t see much of what was going on, having your view obstructed by your boyfriend's huge back until you start to feel him shake. he turned around so quickly you barely had time to register before you suddenly felt your feet leave the ground.

rikis excited about winning the plushie after god knows how much time and money manifested in him lifting you and spinning you both, “i knew you were my lucky charm!”

leaving no room for you to respond, he quickly places you down as he turns to retrieve the plushie, an almost jarring yellow duck with pink round cheeks and a puffy beak. presenting it to you like a cat would when leaving a dead bird at your doorstep, all pridefully accompanied by the biggest box smile on display.

“here you go, bae. why’d you pick this duck anyway?” he asked, the adrenaline of finally winning evidently still hadn’t worn off yet. you slowly raised the plushie to be beside rikis head, now having two ducks facing you.

you could see the gears turning in his head, but no dots were connecting as he slightly tilted his head with a pout on his lips. you could swear he was trying to copy the duck if you hadn’t known him well enough.

“no reason, just cute.”

shrugging in response, as he grabs your hand to pull you towards another game that wouldn’t suck your pockets dry. looking down to see the duck snug between your forearm and chest and looking up to see the boy you love who looked almost identical.

but of course, one of them is way cuter.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @sngvhs @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su

[tokiwarcube]

Since it's getting hot out, I'd love to see how different members treat their s/o who's prone to (or just experienced) heat exhaustion after a long date at the beach or something! Nothing is more brutal than the sun!

Fun fact! When I first started this request, it was hitting beyond belief. 14 hours outside in the hot sun? Perfect fit. And then the day after I put pen to paper (or I suppose, fingertips to keyboard), the area I was working in experienced a freak storm. Anon what did you do to the SUN... Either way, rq below the cut! <3

Nathan Explosion

Liquid Death? Infinite darkness umbrella? Burning Hatred Gatorade? Sunscreen? Did you put on sunscreen? Nathan makes checklists habitually, and if nothing else, he is fantastic about reminding you to stay hydrated. He himself isn’t too good at drinking water, but when you’re at stake, suddenly he’s the number one advocate for hydration. Although in the event that you do get struck down by the overwhelming power of the Sun, he’s at a bit of a loss for what to do. He hates doctors, but it’s really the only thing he can think of to do beyond what he was already doing. He also hates taking orders, but as with most things in life, you are the exception to his rule — just let him know what to do, and you’ll have royalty treatment for as long as it takes.

Pickles the Drummer

His ass refuses to get in the sun as is (he burns far too easily, and let’s be real, most of the drugs he abuses makes him even less tolerant of the sun than most.) And he’s not great about drinking water either. (Vodka’s basically the same thing, right?) So chances are if you’re getting heat exhaustion, so is he. Which is a horrific situation to be in! So the two of you definitely have to look out for each other, making sure to take shade and water breaks often. Although in the event that you’ve both come down with it… well, the Klokateers take pretty damn good care of you.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Skwisgaar is another one who, frankly, hates the sunshine. He sees so reason to chase after sunbeams. He thinks beaches are fun, but honestly, he’s usually only there to get wasted on the sand, and maybe watch a sunset or two. He’s just as prone to heat exhaustion too, as he’s just not used to the heat. He burns like nobody’s business, and if he had it his way, he’d be living at a perpetual 60F, if not lower. But unlike Pickles, he actually knows how to manage it — neither of you will be falling victim to the Sun today! And it turns out that when he’s not complaining, he actually likes the beach after all! His long limbs and perfect golden hair make for quite a bit of fun in the open ocean… just make sure to wash the salt water out of his hair at the end of the day.

Toki Wartooth

Toki could live in the sunshine for the rest of his life and be as happy as a clam! Or I guess in this situation I think he’s a bit more akin to a cat, with how readily he’ll post up in the sunshine. For him, Summer is all about the rays, the long days running on sandy beaches, and plenty of colorful drinks and treats. Although quite frankly, he sucks at remembering everyone else’s heat tolerance. But he does, however, notice when you start slowing down, and takes action pretty fast so long as he knows what to do ahead of time. Water, gatorade, and cool wash-clothes are his go-to. Heat exhaustion is never fun, but at least you have a nice view when you rest your head in his lap at the end of the day. The cool washcloth pressed against your forehead brings a much-needed chill after a long, fun adventure on the beach, and while you can't say you're all too excited to have faced the wrath of the sun... you still had a fun time.

William Murderface

A southern boy himself, William is no stranger to the brutality of the Sun. He’s spent quite a few Summers under the sweltering heat, and while he won’t say he loves it, he certainly respects it. (He won’t say that, of course. He’s tried to take a handgun to the Sun a few times, which surprisingly, have yielded no results yet.) It’s basically second-nature to him to manage the effects of the heat before they ever even come on — good clothes, frequent water-breaks, etc. (He never orders water, nor does he carry it with him, and yet he always manages to end up with a bottle. He says water is for pussies, just before taking a sip.) And when he finds out that the Sun affects you a bit more than most? He’s very good at nonchalantly encouraging you to take care of yourself a bit. Nudging a bottle your way, looking for more shaded resting areas to set your stuff up in, etc.

[mugzymiik]

HELLOOOO my old intro post is way too long so uhmm heres a better less complicated one

LAST UPDATED: February 20, 2025

HI HELLO!!! call me Gold. or October or Bug. those r my names but idgaf what im called as long as i can recognize it as me :D (pls don't call me Mugzy though)

i am bigender (transmasc + demigirl)!! probably!! gender has been hard lately!!!!!

any pronouns (but he/they + any neopronouns preference)

est timezone

DNI:

homophobics, transphobics, misogynists, racists, sexists, pretty much anyone whos bigoted and/or just an asshole

people who are under 13 (im an older teenager and i dont feel comfortable interacting online with people who arent even SUPPOSED to be online yet)

people who are or support transrace/transabled/transage/transx/transid/whatever the fuck

proshippers

pedophiles

users or supporters of ai """"art""""

supporters of cryptocurrency/nfts of any kind

drama stirrers

supporters/friends of cintagonisupet

supporters/friends of hxngr/constant_hungr/hungry_starving/whatever the fuck he goes by now.

supporters of mirei touyama animations/brebear jones

people named Ry*n or Q**nn. sorry hhh

people who obsess over Dead by Daylight. (i have bad experiences with a person who really likes that game- i wont say full-on dni if you like it because thatd be pretty damn stupid, but if you constantly post about it please dont directly interact with me a lot)

byi:

im a minor !!

i have autism, adhd and anxiety, among other things. im heavily disabled in general and i also joke about that a lot- if you dont like it lol sucks to suck , its my experiences to cope with not yours

i have a hard time reading situations so if i say anything bad/unneeded/confusing PLEASE let me know i /srs do NOT mean any harm to anyone 😭-

tone tags r needed aaa

NO WARPED FACIAL BODY HORROR AROUND ME PLEASE

i am a childish freak <3

i embrace my cringe (even if i get embarrassed about it sometimes /silly). if i find you going out of your way to harass me or anyone i know for being """cringe""" I'll spam your askbox with OwOs and UwUs i am being completely fucking /srs.

i ignore unsolicited dms from people i dont know too well unless it's important

sometimes i delete asks if i dont know how to respond to them ;; i apologize

i block people who make me uncomfortable

my fandoms:

the pink corruption/tpc

just shapes and beats/jsab

warriors

stray

other smaller hyperfixations, some of which come and go

my tags:

#mmmramblez (rambles)

#art + #animation/#writing/#shitpost

#ask

#drawing ideas + #for later

#kinposting

my fandom tags:

#tpc shorts but also not [tpc]

#golds tpc designs [tpc] (posts with the original tag will be edited with this one soon)

#tpc episode [tpc] (i download tpc eps and put em in a google drive bc i REFUSE to give brebitch more views.)

#trongle stash [tpc + jsab] (if you dont want your posts/art in this tag please let me know & ill remove it/try to remember to not put your stuff in it)

#tpc cats end [tpc]

my blogs:

@mugzymiik-infodump

@pinkcorruption-verysillyedition (tpc incorrect quotes; submissions are always open, probably looking for mods too if it gets active again 😭)

@lemonboynotcavetown (Gold rp blog, very headcanon-heavy)

@8sided-insect (BUG RP BLOG!!!)

@pinkcorruptionconfessions (tpc confessions :D)

@tpc-bugverse

(there r other ones but uhh im not listing em theyre REALLY inactive </3

FRIENDS & MOOTS!!!!! <333:

The Goobers <3

@many-faced

@darkhatkid

@/m00nlit_sage

other friemds that are Just As Cool!!! :D

@trash-jsab

@paw-ureyesout

@kitcatttt

@comet--storm

@anonymously-night

@cielos-pasteles

@astronic-fr

@lavthequad

@orchuris

@1nto-the-zone

@cyberrcyanide

@greenpentagon

@taxi-dummy

@cowboytorrenter

@tasty-eggs

@streetmurder

@thesealantern

@frozen-treachery

@octahedral-chaos

@makothedorito

@coresystem

@lesboyajaceare

@snakeualzayden

@fandomt4keover

@something-named-vexxie

@packitupkittycat

me other socials:

discord: @/mugzymiik

youtube: @/mugzymiik

bluesky: @/mugzymiik

instagram: @/mugzymiik

deviantart: @/MugzyMiik

toyhouse: @/MugzyMiik

toyhouse (au edition): @/goldenuniverses

art fight: @/MugzyMiik

strawpage: @/mugzymiik

my discord server!!!

tpcblr discord server! (not mine)

miscellaneous stuff i also wanna say cus why not:

i am a Very Heavy Kinnie of Gold from TPC and the triangle player from JSaB :D and also Bug (tpc oc) too

^my headcanons go for Gold Kin™ too :help: i feel.....snak.

i fucking love cheese and ranch

#1 Mother Mother fan

im so normal about triangles trust

i own Bug hi /silly

i love everything you hate and/or cringe at :)

other stuff:

art Status

commissions: closed with exceptions (cashapp is currently fucking me over the head with receiving money)

art trades: open

requests: closed, only open at times when i say theyre open

art info

commission information (DM ME)

other post shit i made

my tpc headcanons

tpc google drive

squeemsh

TPC SHOWDOWN

divider credits

[zyonsay]

150 Follower special MV1,LN4,OP81

Thank you guys so much! I don't think that 150 is much to other creators here on Tumblr but i am absolutely SPEECHLESS. 150 People deemed my blog good enough to follow and im thankful for every single one of you pookies! You guys motivated me to continue writing, and you may not know me well yet, but i suck at continuing things i started- So chapeau to you guys!!

I wanted to make 150 headcanons at first, but when i began writing, i realized that i was a bit too confident haha. I hope 15 headcanons are alright too though! Once again, thank you so, so much! <3

SO! Here's how the headcanons work:

These are headcanons about Max Verstappen, Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri, 5 each. Genderneutral Reader.

1st: What they like about you physically 2nd: Their favorite activity with you 3rd: Something you helped them accomplish 4th: Their favorite clothing piece/outfit on you 5th: Something they like about your sex life

Max Verstappen MV1

He likes your hands a lot, whether it’s when you guide him through a crowd with your hand on his back, or the way you softly brush against his knuckles under the table while visiting friends for dinner. He loves your soft, innocent touches. The way you hold his arm or give him a reassuring squeeze has him melting.

His favorite thing to do with you is stay at home and cook something together while his cats circle your legs in hopes of a treat. You can bet that you two will be baking a lot during festive times like Christmas or other holidays. "Oh Max, come here. You have a bit of flour on your nose", you say as you wipe it off and press a peck to his lips.

It used to be a challenge for Max to talk about his feelings, especially about his negative ones. Even if he still has a hard time doing that, he now know that he has someone who will listen and support him. His worries are valid and he loves that you taught him that.

Max loves it when you wear a comfortable, but fancy outfit to sit in a yacht club and sip champagne with him. His arm around your shoulder while you two talk and laugh under a clear night. He won't be able to take his eyes off of you!

During your more intimate times, it drives him crazy when you choke him. Even if only lightly, having you in power turns him on, because in every other situation he is seen as THE dominating force. If only others knew how whiny he can get. 'Please y/n, please', his voice sounded weak and desperate.

Lando Norris LN4

Lando loves your eyes, no matter what color. He catches himself getting lost in them very often, but he absolutely loves it. You’re focused, Lando sneakily gawks at your eyes and when you turn your head to look at him, he quickly looks away and flushes. The only thing he can mutter is 'You're pretty', while his face turns redder by the second.

He absolutely loves to get comfy on the couch and watch your favorite movies together. You sitting between his legs, while he rubs your back, paired with hot chocolate and a few snacks, makes him the happiest man alive.

Lando learned a lot from you. Not that he was stupid before, but the things you talk about intrigue him, so he asks about it and is willing to learn more. Like this man did not know that manatees eat 7-15% of their body weight each day, but now he does.

His favorite clothing pieces on you are his hoodies since he has a whole collection of them. It’s the typical high school scenario of stealing your boyfriends hoodies.

The brit’s favorite thing in the bedroom is soft sex. Not that your ‘wilder’ nights aren’t good too, but he loves having passionate, sweet, and soft sex after a rough day. Gentle moans and sweet whispers rung trough the air, as Lando brushed his finger over your thighs. 'Love you', he adoringly looked into your eyes.

Oscar Piastri OP81

Oscar adores your hair. Whenever you two are laying on your bed, he gently runs his fingers through it. Or when you get up in the morning, hair all messed up, he loves to brush it for you, while leaving gentle kisses on your shoulders.

The Aussie loves going out with you. Not the typical restaurant date, but for example going to the Aquariums or visiting a Museum together. He'd also take you along to an art Exhibition or the Zoo. 'Look at this one!', he pulled you towards an Aquarium full of beautiful sharks.

Oscar learned to be more vocal about his needs and wants. Sure, he is still reserved, but he is now more comfortable with coming out of his shell. You are the most empowering being in his life and showed him that it's ok to need and demand things.

His favorite outfit on you are your pajamas. A big, loose tee with a pair of shorts or whatever you usually wear and this man’s heart is doing somersaults. He loves the casual, cozy you, snuggled up to him on the couch while it's absolutely pouring down outside.

Oscar loves when you mark him up. His pale skin reddens quickly when you suck, nibble or full on bite it. He won't admit it out loud, but waking up in the morning with your marks all over his body does it for him. You appear behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso which is littered with love bites. He groans lightly as you trace your fingers over the red spots.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Cat’s 3K Series

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Part Five

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” The villain sucked another hickey into the hero’s neck with a precision and calculation the hero didn’t know from lovers. Apparently, the villain was more than attentive: they were not only considerate of the hero’s wounds but also of their reactions.

Whatever they did to make the hero moan, they kept doing it until the hero was too overwhelmed with pleasure. Hungrily, the hero had watched them stitch the reopened wound again. A slow burning had overtaken their brain and heart, making it impossible to think well.

The villain had more self control, though. They calmed down the hero, made them go slower, urged them to relax more. Even though they let the hero sit on their lower stomach, they were fully leading the situation with their hands in the hero’s hair and on their waist.

Every now and then, one of them hissed out of pain, especially the villain when the hero got a little too excited.

Both were far from being healed.

“You’re not a bad person,” the hero said.

“I can be very rude,” the villain whispered against the hero’s lips which made the hero smile.

“Yes, but…you came back. You could’ve gone anywhere but you chose to be with me.”

The villain wasn’t so eager now and the hero thought they had said something wrong. Had turned a switch, had scared the villain and now they were quiet again.

“I didn’t tell you everything,” they confessed.

“I know. But I know what I need to know.” The hero kissed their cheek gently, staring at the band aid on the villain’s face.

“I never told anyone before but I think you might understand what it feels like.” The hero’s attention switched to the villain’s serious eyes. It was true, their adrenaline was spiking from pleasure and they wanted the villain so bad but this was more important than their desires.

Whatever the villain was gonna say, it was going to be horrible, the hero knew that.

“I come from a family of means and…when I was younger a criminal organisation decided to use that. They kidnapped me and my brother. My reluctance bothered them obviously, so they did a lot of fucked up stuff. Beat me up. Put me in cells with worse people, forced me to kill others for their entertainment. My parents kept giving them money to reassure our safety but once I got more violent, they started to give me weapons.”

The hero bit the inside of their cheek again. Hard enough that it hurt. They couldn’t imagine what it must’ve felt like. Being separated from their family like this, fighting to survive, being forced to kill people…Eventually their mind wandered to the plane crash to find something they could compare this with.

Thankfully, they hadn’t known anyone on the plane. But waking up in the jungle with their leg shattered, being experimented on after…suffering was suffering, no matter what. Suffering ate and didn’t leave. Even if the worst was over, it stayed and infected the brain. It stuck around to punch them in the face every now and then.

Subconsciously, they took the villain’s hand.

“And they sent me on missions. Made an assassin out of me. All backed up by the promise they wouldn’t hurt my little brother in return. He’s nine now, doesn’t even remember our family anymore. I— I don’t know what to do. I’m still coming back to them for my brother. My parents seem to be still alive. At least, the money keeps coming in. I’m just so tired of this. I’m so tired of fighting and running around like a dog.”

The villain swallowed and the hero could see the little tears gathering in their eyes.

“Hey,” the hero said gently. They cupped the villain’s face and wiped the tears away with their thumbs. “We can work together, okay?”

They kissed the villain slowly, lovely.

“We can do this together. We can make a plan, gather resources. I can steal tech from the agency. They won’t notice if we’re quick. We can free your brother and you can return home. Change our names and move to another city.”

The villain nodded slowly, red eyes trying not to look at the hero as a few other tears rolled down their face.

“Thank you,” they whispered. It was their turn to kiss the hero and they did. Not as passionately as before but tenderly, lovingly. It was a scary thought for the hero. Loving someone was messy and complicated and difficult. But they were certain if there was one person in the entire world who could understand them and their pain, it was the villain. The villain was the only one who was able to protect them, who was on their side.

So, they allowed themselves to get lost in the moment. To enjoy the warmth the villain gave them, to mumble reassurances and little compliments until the villain’s ears go red. Everything was perfect and for a moment the hero felt like they were healed. Until the villain got the text message.

They let their phone beep once, then twice. With a sigh and an uttered sorry, they sat up and took their phone out, scrolling on the display until they found the right message. Apparently, the villain didn’t check them.

The hero didn’t see the message. But they saw the villain’s pale face.

“Are you…?”

“Where did you put my suit?” The villain’s voice was scarily cold and the hero’s throat burnt. Was this some sort of protection? Turning into a cold wall to keep themselves form feeling anyway.

“I…I think it’s in my bathroom somewhere. It’s totally ripped apart, though, I don’t think you can—” Not answering, the villain stood up and disappeared in the bathroom.

“Hey, what is going on?” The hero followed them just as quickly. All the progress, all the secrets they had revealed to each other seemed to be falling apart.

“Whatever it is, we can work through it,” they promised. The villain looked around the bathroom, their movements almost mechanical. They found their suit in the bathtub where the hero had tried to clean it.

“No, we can’t” the villain answered bluntly.

“We can. We decide what we do with our life. How we act. Those are decisions only we can make for ourselves.”

The villain turned around, looking at the person they had wanted to devour a few minutes ago.

“It doesn’t work like that,” they said. “People like us aren’t allowed to decide.”

“No, that’s not the true—” They took a step forward to touch the villain’s arm but the villain moved away, as if the hero would burn themselves if they touched them. “Please, whatever happened, we can do this together.”

The villain turned around, heading for the door but the hero didn’t give them up that easily.

“Please,” they begged. “We can’t run away from our problems anymore. We both deserve to be happy. We both deserve a life.”

The villain breathed in and turned around. Once again, tears ran down their face, worse this time. Surprisingly, they walked up the hero and kissed them. It was quick but the hero knew it now. This was love. It was all of it. The good stuff, the bad stuff. The hurt and the comfort.

But it ended too soon and with that, the villain took all the warmth the hero had discovered these past few days with them.

“Leave the city,” the villain said. “Get away from the agency. You deserve a good life. You deserve to be happy.”

“But I want to be happy with you.” The hero felt tears rising as well. Confusion and grief together made them want to make drastic decisions. They grabbed the villain’s forearm.

“There will be someone else who can take care of you.”

“I don’t want someone else.”

“No. You’re in danger when you’re with me,” the villain argued. They were crying, their nose was running. “This is what they do.”

They showed the hero the message. They’d sent a picture of a severed finger, blood all over the concrete where it lay. In the background, a crying boy. Told you to remember my puppy.

Looking away, the hero whispered a simple “no,” unable to believe the horror they had seen, unable to believe that worse might happen to the villain too.

“They sent me your address,” the villain said. They could barely breathe. “Leave. God, please leave the city, I am begging you.”

The hero shook their head over and over again.

“But I love you,” they whispered.

“I told you. We aren’t allowed to make those decisions. We don’t get what we want.”

With one last longing gaze, they looked at the hero, not ready for the goodbye. Not ready for the pain. And yet both knew this was it. There was no turning back from this.

Both knew what suffering was. But they had never felt anything like this before.

[soullessjack]

so im on s5 of miraculous and i keep thinking about cat noirs whole “kept at a distance” arc bc it’s genuinely really interesting but gets so wasted by always winding up with him basically validating ladybugs nonsensical decisions and treatment—the same treatment that we were already shown upset him enough to destroy public properly about it. the most consistent reason LB ever gives cat about why he can’t be fully trusted or relied on is that he’s too much of a liability for their partnership to work—either because he’s too reckless, too in love with her, or his cataclysm would be too dangerous to use.

whatever it is, the baseline is that she thinks he’s a liability, and obviously that’s like salt in the wound for cat since he genuinely loves her and enjoys being partners with her, but it’s also just sad to see him continue to respect her decision and act like it isn’t a problem for him when he’s literally upset enough to physically lash out and use his powers to do so. and I know a lot of it can probably be explained by ladybug’s experience in the cat blanc timeline, but 1) she starts holding him at a distance way before that even happens, 2) she’s actively making it worse by not telling cat noir about cat blanc and why she thinks she has to exclude him for his own safety, and 3) SHE SHOULD HAVE TOLD HIM ABOUT CAT BLANC TO BEGIN WITH BECAUSE IT’S LITERALLY A WORLD ENDING SITUATION INVOLVING HIM DIRECTLY‼️‼️‼️‼️

instead she just allows him think he’s unwanted and unnecessary, calls the shots on how he should feel about “having more free time” and ironically makes him even more susceptible to being Akumatized because of it. ladybug might not be aware that cat is adrien and has a terrible home life he actively uses his miraculous to escape from, but she’s playing right into all the key aspects that adrien resents from his father; she decides what he wants without considering or asking him, she trusts him conditionally and still distances herself enough for him to just not know certain things. it’s done with good intentions, but it still clearly affects adrien very poorly, and it’s just such a frustrating glass-chewing miscommunication that only needlessly complicates the situation

don’t even get me started on Kuro Neko where ladybug falls head over heels for the changed version of her partner and narrowly avoiding her having to actually screw up and learn a lesson about accepting cat for who he actually is because catwalker is just “too perfect” for her to function—instead of being an obedient idealized version of her best friend who lets her be in control of everything (WHEN ADRIEN LITERALLY USES HIS DOUBLE LIFE TO HAVE THE CONTROL HE DOESN’T GET AT HOME).

theres so much potential for the base concept of the miraculous of destruction and its Kwami/holder being distrusted outliers among the rest of the Kwami/holders, but the magic system sucks and it kind of loses any chance when the other Kwamis are established to be catastrophic if they use their powers without a holder. and it gets even more confusing if you consider that Fu specifically chose adrien to hold that miraculous, but then encourages Marinette to keep her distance from him and barely acknowledges him as a hero in general. Like why did you even bother testing adrien for his worthiness or whatever if you obviously don’t think he’s worthy of knowing anything about you or the rest of the miraculous OR his best friend’s identity??? but you’re totally okay with her just giving them out to anyone in Paris who’s conveniently around and having her know their identity???? master fu when I catch you master fu

auugghhhfgg I don’t know the magic system thing could be its own separate post but likeeeeee I just think the miraculous of destruction whos constantly mistrusted for no reason and goes Kamehameha Krazy in another timeline is very special and could be treated so much better if the writers were good at their job and didn’t make every character’s sole purpose be validating ladybug/marinette even when she’s in the wrong

[mod2amaryllis]

I'm waiting for this migraine to die so I'm gonna tell you guys about Marshall, the dog who made me quit. read on if you wanna learn about extended quarantine and why this job sucks sometimes and other times is the most rewarding thing on the planet, often for the same reasons lmao.

in 2021, the weight of covid was kinda crashing down. i heard this was the case for a lot of health workers. we switched into emergency mode throughout 2020 and powered through, then the rest of the world decided to try and "get back to normal" a year later, giving no regard to the people who'd been working like a speeding train with the brakes off all that time. i was losing it!!! add a few more hay bales to my back when we hired a new doc who was the most demanding dude I'd ever met (still is, but we've come to some understanding lol) and who decided to run me as ragged as possible the first day he was left to his own devices.

that was the day Marshall came in.

i didn't talk about this back then because the outcome of the case was uncertain and the details so specific, but here's the run down knowing that 2 years later, Marshall is living his best life. when he was a baby, too young to have received a rabies vaccine, his owners found a rabies positive bat in the house. the state vet will always recommend euthanasia in these situations, OR, if you can somehow find and afford the option, a 6 month quarantine. this was such a tragic situation the owners were willing to try to save him. my clinic happens to have a decent isolation ward that's rarely in use; we use it for infectious patients like parvo puppies, uri's that have to be hospitalized, etc. so my boss agreed to take him for those 6 months. but the owners' caveat was that if he wasn't mentally adjusting to isolation after a couple weeks, they would euthanize so as not to put him through it and leave him with lifelong behavior issues.

that day, when animal control brought Marshall in the middle of an insane rush, we were short staffed and already at the end of our ropes with this new doc. i was the only qualified person who could talk to the officer. i was the only person who could take him back to isolation. the act of putting a 12 week old puppy in a 4 x 4 run where i knew he would either spend 6 months untouched, or never see the outside again, broke me. last straw.

i was a mess, for the rest of that day and the rest of that weekend having to go in and take care of him, when it was too early for him to adjust so i was sure he wouldn't make it. I'd come home sobbing. eventually jose was just like, "this isn't worth it any more," and i sent in a two weeks notice. i'd come close to doing so many times in the previous 6 years but never pulled the trigger. it took a total meltdown. my managers responded with regret, but understanding.

i wish i could've just felt free and done with it but for those two weeks i was just uncertain. this job is so complicated. the benefits for my pets are enormous; it's my main social network; it's income; I'm good at it and it gives me purpose. it's just also hell on earth! with no pressure from anyone else one way or the other, by the end of two weeks I'd decided to instead try going part time. that's where I'm at 2 years later so guess it worked lol.

but! there was still Marshall. shortly after we took him, we also happened to get a call for the same situation on 2 cats, and decided to take them as well. 3 animals on a 6 month quarantine. very new and daunting for all of us.

that first weekend was hard, but slowly, Marshall figured things out. it was the least ideal situation imaginable and i was at rock bottom and so was he, but i had this moment of like.....ok. if he wants to make this work, I'm gonna do as right by him as possible. and of course all us techs were helping him (one of my road dog coworkers always opened so i referred to her as his "morning mom") but i in particular took a special interest in training and enrichment. it became a passion. i was working less, but i volunteered extra weekends so i could see him more.

he was so young he hadn't even done much basic command training, and the fact that i couldn't touch him at all was a challenge. i started with a clicker to signal I'd rolled a treat into his run, since i couldn't give it to him directly. over those months we went through the basics: sit, down, paw, touch, using a back scratcher for a hand. part of the worry was him getting enough exercise; we noticed that when he'd get agitated, he'd jump on the bars non stop. i was like hmm that might be our only option, so i made "up" a command. i'd basically run burpies for exercise, up-sit-down-sit-up. he was a fast learner, very attentive. seeing him keep his wits about him like that was straight up thrilling. he even "potty trained" himself, barking like crazy whenever he'd go to the bathroom so we'd know right away he needed the run cleaned.

in the ward, there are 2 runs and 3 kennels. i trained Marshall to go back and forth between runs so we could clean. we'd have his food waiting for him in the next run over so he could eat while we'd clean; at the midday switch, he'd have a doggie popsicle. he was such a smart dog i knew toys and treats alone weren't cutting it for enrichment, and i couldn't constantly train him when i still had to be doing the rest of my job.

i started having everyone save every single box and paper-packaging that came in. i'd unfold some boxes for "bedding," so he'd at least have something between him and the concrete (he'd chew and eat any blanket we tried giving him). the rest, i turned into puzzles. i put treats inside and closed them up. put big boxes on their side in his run so he could go in and out. crumpled up paper-packaging with treats mixed in for him to dig through. every day i'd turn one run into a box-toy paradise, let him in, clean the other, and by the time i was checking back in on him he was snoozing in a pile of destruction. success. when other techs wouldn't go to the same lengths, i'd stay late pre-making his boxes and telling people to just throw them in dammit. i also queued several ambient sound playlists, birdsong cityscapes etc, to play on the weekend days when he was alone for long periods.

the months went by like this. i learned more about training, enrichment, and most specifically quarantine than i ever had outside of my experiences with my own puppies. we fell into a routine. we straight up loved each other, he was part of my life. he'd been this horrible trigger and pretty much doubled my workload, but he got to live.

then there were the cats! they were a little easier than Marsh just because they were already adults so didn't have all this energy to wrangle. for them, daily cleaning of course, taking turns going into the 1 empty kennel where i'd have treats, catnip, and other "new" smells waiting for them. for enrichment i focused on reconfiguration. every 2-3 days i'd rearrange things in their kennels, with the big pieces being a litter box, a bed, and an upright sturdy box (so they could either be in it or on top of it, giving them one upper level). it was habitat tetris. we'd play with strings and use the back scratcher for pets. then about every week, i'd switch their kennels to slightly change their view AND traded beds to mingle scents. they were from the same household and we were worried there'd be difficulty re-bonding after not being in direct contact for so long. they also did very well by the end of 6 months aside from gaining a lot of weight (oops). i learned just as much from them, and would love to help anyone else who might struggle with needing to quarantine pets.

i've seen people posting for help about similar situations and just wanna scream from the rooftops: the beginning is very daunting and hopeless, but animals aren't like us!!!!!! they do the best with what they got!!!!! if you work hard and keep them clean and develop a routine it'll all work out!!!!! Marshall walked out of there at 6 months a normal happy puppy in desperate need of a haircut.

it's interesting because i've never interacted much with his owners. i don't think they know i'm the one who kept him from losing his mind in there, even though everyone else at the clinic does, and i'm weirdly ok with that. the other day he came in cuz the dummy ate a bunch of meds he wasn't supposed to; the doc brought him to the back and instantly, Marshall rushed right for me. he still remembers me in a good way. there's still love. it's like...one of the few patient relationships i've had that feels truly deeply personal. in retrospect i think he had a bigger hand in healing my relationship with this career and animals in general than i realized at the time.

so thanks for making me quit Marshall. i feel a lot better now.

(i don't have any pics of him from that time (tragic ssd card accident) but he was an overgrown doodle puppy so he looked like this.)

[chunkymamatam]

Hi omg welcome back! Thank you so much for the detail on your description about the classes! When and if you have time, I would love to hear more! Have you had classes with Crewel yet? And are there any other teachers aside from the ones we know from the game? Thats something Ive always wanted to know! Also, have you gone to Sam's shop yet? How is he? He is my favourite staff member!

Oh and how long did you stay? Did you experience any events ingame and maybe some that werent in the game? Have you gone to anyones homecountry like the events?

PS: If there are too many questions, feel free to chose some to skip! I dont want to overwhelm you :) <3

It's not too much to answer the questions! There's only 2 asks now including this one and the other one if for one of my fanfic blogs so I should have enough energy/time now lol

First The rest of my classes for the current semester:

Animal Language Class

No Magic required

Consists of basic body language of different animals that might accompany you on your journey through being a "Proper mage" as Professor Trein would put it lol. This includes cats, dogs, rats, etc (basically any animal you can find in a Disney film.)

As the class goes on you learn how to decipher what they're actually saying verbally and non verbally. Unlike here animals are sentient, they will make fun of you later trust me. Ace and Deuce are frequently the victim of this lmfao

Its pretty difficult for me personally but I'm bad at communicating with humans so I wasn't really expecting any less lmfao Its as difficult as learning any new language in all seriousness so if you find that hard then welcome to the club I made cookies.

Difficulty: 4/5

Potions/Alchemy (Creation/material studies)

Magic materials will be provided by class instructor, minimal magic is needed from the mage

Consists of different creation techniques, what materials have what properties, what the different potions do, etc. There's a potion for anything and everything, most only having temporary effects but some are more permanent (base level and under specific conditions). Honestly this is one of my favorite classes. Its the most fun in my opinion.

It's not at all difficult because we're allowed to have our recipes at all times.

Difficulty: 1/5

Spell casting

Magic required

Now this is where being magicless really sucked (I still got a really good grade). I wasn't able to participate much in the begining and I was stuck memorizing spells I would never be able to use. I shit you not this man (The prof) looked at me and said

"You may not have the proper abilities to cast spells but I'll be sure to turn you into a grimoire of them by the end of this class"

Honestly stayed true to his word ngl. The amount of notes and textbooks and reciting the damn things, practicing proper spell casting formation/posture. I could instruct the other students at this point. I'm having flashbacks just thinking about it lmfao

The class consists of the actual spells, the motions needed to enact each spell, the proper posture to take when casting. We learn what each spell does, and the proper situations to use them in, etc. It is mostly just actually casting spells though and a I've only relatively recently learned how to use magic. I'm getting there with the help of Azul and my professors tho.

I wouldn't say its the worst difficulty wise but my memory is decent when it comes to academics.

dificulty: 3/5

Astrology

This class consists of studying the stars, constellations, planets, and the moon cycles and how they affect the magic we produce.

"Just as the ocean is affected by the moon and the stars, so too is our energy and magic."

Corny shit but accurate and factual lmfao. It's a really easy class and that's really all there is to it. It's mostly so you understand why your magic is stronger/weaker on different days. this also used as a reference in other classes. Like "X spell is more affective during Y Moon cycle"

Difficulty: 1/5

There's definitely more classes that I don't know of yet but we'll get to them eventually!

''Have you had classes with Crewel yet?"

Yes! I'm actually his favorite student weirdly enough lol. He's chill as long as you act right (paying attention to the lesson, doing your classwork/homework, etc). This man fr defended me from these bitch ass guys who were like

"She doesn't even have magic why does she have the top scores????"

To which he responded "Maybe if you were as diligent of a student perhaps you could also be part of the top scores, until then however, return to your seat"

Never felt safer with a teacher I swear.

"Are there any other teachers aside from the ones we know from the game?"

Yeah. I can't remember their names right this moment cuz I haven't been back there in a minute. My mental health has been ass and I fell out of love with shifting for a long while but I'm back now! I'm hopefully going back soon. I miss my boys and my classes. Mostly my boys tho. I'll have to share who they are and what their names are after I go next.

"Have you gone to Sam's shop yet? How is he?"

I have! Actually when I got my monthly allowance from Crowley (I manifested that in with the intention method cuz I'll be dammed if that cheap bitch fucks me over) it was the first place I visited. He sells damn near everything you need to live on campus. I got soap, an African net sponge (its called Savanna net sponge cuz ✨Afterglow/Sunset Savanna✨) and some lotion. I barely had enough for my groceries after that month. I was living on Ramen and the school allotted lunch (。﹏。*) This being said be prepared for Sam to over price everything. This is a rich people school and I mean eat the rich and all but PLEASE HAVE MERCY

As for how he is as a person, he's really chill. Very nice but he is still a salesman so keep that in mind with your interactions. He may have mercy if he's feeling generous (pity) lmfao. Jokes aside hes actually pretty nice outside of his business. He allowed me to talk to him about struggling with living with Vil for that month with his unseasoned dry ass chicken 😭

"How long did you stay? Did you experience any events in game and maybe some that weren't in the game?"

Currently I'm dealing with STYX and Idia's overblot. Up until that point its been about 6-7 months over there. Everything in the main game happens so fast and in such quick succession. I've experienced the Halloween events, birthdays, and the New Year events. I didn't participate in Sams event cuz I was dealing with living with Vil training for the SDC/VDC and calming down from everything with Jamil. TBH there might have been events that weren't showcased but I was just too busy with the main events and classe/hanging out with other students.

"Have you gone to anyone's home country like the events?"

Not yet but we are staying at Rooks many homes while on our way to STYX to rescue everyone rn. Hopefully soon tho because Idk it seems like a lot of fun to learn more about my friends and their homes.

[mollymawkwrites]

this is the longest thing i have written in well over a year, and i'm quite happy with how it came out. thank you so much @dapandapod for your support and cheer reading, it meant a lot <3 CW: dubcon, sleep paralysis, inhuman!Eddie

Of course Steve gets nightmares. He’s always had them, ever since he was a little boy in a too big house. They only got worse after he saw a demogorgon crawl out of the walls at the old Byers’ place.

Flesh monsters, vines tight around his neck, demobats tearing at his flesh… Yeah, his brain has all the material it needs to fuck up his nights for several lifetimes. And yeah, some of them are about Eddie.

That’s weird, given Steve was only vaguely aware of the other boy’s existence until they met in less than ideal circumstances. And it’s not like they hit it off then, either. Sure, Eddie was fun and braver than he liked to pretend, but they hadn’t really gotten to know each other, what with the whole “running for our lives” situation.

But one doesn’t decide what one’s traumatized mind chooses to focus on, and so, in the months after the almost apocalypse, Steve gets used to seeing Eddie’s pale, bloodied face in his sleep every once in a while.

One of those nights, give or take five months after they’d buried an empty casket and struggled to meet Wayne Munson’s eyes, Steve wakes up from a nightmare featuring big, fearful doe eyes with a strangled gasp.

His brain struggles to catch up as his heart beats fast enough to hurt, sweat tickling his scalp. What hits him first is the heaviness of his limbs, unresponsive even as he wills himself to sit up. Panic seizes him, and he screams — well, tries to. All that comes out is a pathetic wheeze.

No matter how hard he strains on his vocal chords, nothing comes out but the air in his lungs.

It takes him a while to calm down, and even then it’s more out of exhaustion than anything else. That’s when Steve notices the shadow in the corner of his room. And it’s not like he’s not used to mistaking a pile of clothes or a coat hanger for a threatening presence — there have been incidents involving panic attacks and waving his nail bat at unsuspecting items.

But this — this is not just a hallucination. Or maybe it is, a very elaborate one. He can’t see much, a humanoid shape, hunched between his wardrobe and his desk, so dark it looks like it’s sucking the moonlight from the room.

It doesn’t move, and Steve keeps his breathing shallow, quiet, his lungs straining with the lack of oxygen as he stares at the shadow, his eyes burning with the need to blink. As if keeping his eyes on it will keep it from moving closer.

A car passes in the street outside, bathing the room in light for a second, and two eyes flash, reflective like a cat’s, fixed on Steve, furthering the feeling of <i>prey</i> tickling at the back of his neck.

But with the sudden light, there and gone, Steve gets a better look, though the thing is still just a shadow, a complete absence of color and light; but the shape of it is familiar, wild curls around its head, bad posture in a relaxed, careless way. It’s a silhouette he sees more often than not when he’s asleep.

Maybe he is still dreaming; that would explain why he has no control over his body, his voice. Why Eddie’s shadow is standing in the corner of his room. It doesn’t make it easier to relax, the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in his own skin bringing back flashes of metal chairs and manacles in a Russian secret facility, of slimy vines crawling over him, restraining his limbs, choking him.

“Eddie” is unmoving, quiet, as Steve’s chest heaves around painful breaths, his mouth opening around silent words and pleas. Nothing comes out of his mouth but agonized whimpers. Tears gather at the corners of Steve’s eyes. He still doesn’t dare to blink, equal parts terrified that Eddie will disappear or that he’ll attack him if he does. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, making the forced immobility of his limbs even more unbearable.

It feels like hours before he slips into an exhausted sleep, “Eddie” just as unmoving in the corner as Steve is in his bed. Flashes of light glint off of his eyes from time to time, and the outline of him seems blurry, like dark, unnatural smoke. Steve fights to keep his eyes open, trying to catch more details out of the apparition haunting his room, but as the stars wink off and the sky lightens, he gives up, and sinks back into uneasy dreams.

The incident stays on his mind for the next couple of days, making him nervous, unsettled; but after an uncomfortable conversation with the other older kids, he concludes that was just the results of his exhausted, traumatized mind, a textbook case of sleep paralysis (thank you Nance). After that, it’s easier to put it out of his mind.

Except it’s not even a week before he wakes up gasping in the middle of the night, vivid images of bitten off flesh and big, lifeless brown eyes staring at a blood red sky superposing with the familiar decor of his own bedroom for a second. Restless energy thrums, desperate to do something, get rid of this helpless feeling that’s been underlying, hiding under his skin for months; but as he goes to rise and find something to do, maybe call Robs or demand a check in through the walkie, he finds himself, once again, unable to move an inch.

This time he forces himself to breathe through the panic, to relax his limbs, just like Nancy told him. And it helps, it does, right up until he notices the shadow standing at the foot of his bed, the moonlight coming from the window forming a halo in its wild, curled hair, darkness bleeding out from where Steve knows the bats tore into skin and flesh.

He can’t help the choked sob clawing up his throat as tears spring to his eyes, rolling down his temples to pool in the hollow of his ears. He whimpers, hurting his tight throat as he fights to whisper, “S— sorry, ‘m sorry, Eddie—“

A weird, hissing noise echoes around Steve’s room, making the hair on his arms rise, like the warning sound of a rattlesnake when you’ve stepped too close. It takes Steve a minute to realize it comes from Eddie, a mockery of a shushing sound, as if trying to soothe him. 

At some point, around the same time his tears dry and his sobs fade into tired hiccups, the sound merges into a faint hum, discordant and unsettling, like an old-timey melody heard through a malfunctioning vinyl turntable. It sounds familiar, though Steve’s exhausted mind can’t quite recognize it. He falls back asleep quickly, wakes up in the morning with salt tracks dry on his cheeks and a stubborn melody stuck in his brain.

This, like the nightmares, the yearly world-ending threat, and the knowledge that superpowered teenagers are a thing, becomes Steve’s new “normal”. Every once in a while, when Steve dreams of Eddie, he wakes up to the silhouette of the dead metalhead lurking in his room, sometimes in the corner, sometimes in the shadow of his wardrobe, or even perched on his desk.

As weeks pass, the silhouette seems to get sharper, like a camera focusing bit by bit. Shadows leave place to a pale face with wide, black eyes, reveal claws at the end of long, thin arms, and the low, rough voice always seems to be humming the same melody, the one Steve can’t seem to shake off his brain even during the day, and is pretty sure is meant to be played on a guitar.

After a few of these nightly visits, Eddie gets bolder, starts crouching at the foot of Steve’s bed, and eventually, perching over him, his face hovering over Steve’s, eyes glinting, mouth forming wordless melodies. There is no weight, no dent in the sheets; dreams are weightless, Steve supposes. There is a smell, though, something like ash, like ozone and iron, that gets stronger whenever Eddie manifests that close to him. A cold sensation seeping through the sheets where there should be contact between them, raising goosebumps over Steve’s skin.

This goes on for another few weeks, during which Steve debates telling anyone about his unusual nighttime visitor. He saw Eddie’s dead body, the vital parts ripped out of him by thousands of tiny teeth. He mourned along with the rest of the Party, though his waking mind kept his focus on Max and her slow, painful recovery.

All that to say, Eddie is dead. Steve knows that. And even if he wasn’t, they left his body back in the Upside Down. El closed all the rifts, they made sure of it. How could Eddie be here, when his body has been locked in another dimension?

Steve is probably going crazy, making up a strange imaginary friend, a fucked up kind of coping mechanism. Telling the others will alert them of his less than stellar state, and get it in their head to help him. And then… then Eddie, or whatever weird imaginary version of him, might disappear for good.

Steve’s not sure why the thought makes him so uncomfortable, why he almost looks forward to going to bed now, despite the nightmares, despite the insomnia, just because it might be one of those nights where Eddie “visits” him again. Somehow, he gets to spend more time with a man he lost before they could become friends, and no matter how fucked up that is, Steve doesn’t get a lot of nice things these days. He’ll enjoy that one while it lasts.

*

There is something else Steve hasn’t told anyone, not even Robin. Since their last stunt in the Upside Down, Steve’s libido has been… well, lacking would be a word for it. And he knows he’s got A Reputation, but the truth is he’s never been as much of a Casanova as everyone says. Sure, he’s gone on a lot of dates, and some ended up in one night stands. But that always feels unsatisfactory. Yeah, Steve likes sex, loves sex, but what he loves about it is the emotional connection. So no, he doesn’t sleep around that much even at the best of times. And this… this is <i>not</i> the best of times.

The fact that he’s either been not sleeping or having nightmares when he does surely doesn’t help. He’s had no interest in sex in months, and even masturbation is only perfunctory, just another unsuccessful way to try and fall asleep.

So when he gets his first wet dream in who knows how long, Steve damn well intends to enjoy it. There’s no real focus of his dream, only warm, fuzzy sensations, a tingle in his lower belly he’s not felt in what feels like forever.

He basks in it for a little while, heat building, shapes and sensations brushing his skin, his hands tangling in long, soft hair, humming lips kissing his burning skin, a weight shifting over him like a comforting, grounding embrace.

A hoarse voice moaning praise, whispering his name against his throat, his ear, his hair.

“Stevie…”

He grinds against the other body, chasing sparks of pleasure, but the weight disappears, and he whines, hips stuttering, seeking delicious friction.

“Steve,” the raspy voice pierces through the hazy fog of lust, and Steve opens his eyes to his dark room, a now familiar immobility restricting his body. His heart beats hard in his chest, body still caught in unfocused pleasure. He knows to look for a shadow before he’s even completely awake.

Eddie’s crouched awkwardly near Steve’s legs, big eyes staring at him in surprise. From his point of view, there’s no ignoring the obvious tent in the light summer sheets. The shame that floods Steve chases away the last of the sleepiness, and he closes his eyes in mortification, a muffled groan making its way out of his tight throat. There’s no doubt Eddie had been sitting atop him when Steve had started moaning and grinding his hips like a perv. The weight had felt so real, so good, and now Steve is left with a persistent hard-on in front of his own personal ghost.

So instead he keeps his eyes closed and hopes against hope he’ll get back to sleep and Eddie will be gone when he wakes again. Which, of course, has zero chance of happening in normal circumstances, even less so with his dick still stiff as a board.

The mattress shifts, Steve’s body rolling with the movement. He snaps his eyes open, meets Eddie’s equally confused gaze. That felt like… Eddie actually sitting on Steve’s bed, his weight dragging Steve towards him like gravity. But it can’t…

They both watch as Eddie raises his hand as if in slow-motion, hovering right over Steve’s knee, complicated emotions stirring in his bottomless eyes. The touch, when it comes, is cold through the sheets. A jolt of electricity shoots up Steve’s thigh, contracting the muscle and tingling over his skin.

“Stevie?” Eddie rasps, voice unsure. Steve wants to tell him it’s okay, though he really doesn’t know if it is, all his comfortable assumptions about dreams and sleep paralysis and logic flying out the windows as Eddie’s fingers press into his flesh; not bruising but firm, like he’s trying to make sure he won’t go through Steve’s skin.

Gaze rising from where he’s been staring at Eddie’s — corporeal— hand for the last minute, he finds Eddie’s eyes searching his face, bloodless lips parted over too sharp teeth. Though he feels far from confident about the situation, Steve dredges every bit of reassurance and comfort he can find, pushing it to the front of his mind as if Eddie could absorb it through — fucking osmosis or something.

 Dumb as it sounds to his own brain, Eddie seems to catch up on it, and he shifts again, a little closer, upper body hovering over Steve’s, his big dark eyes searching for something.

Slow, as if not to spook him, Eddie brings his other hand to Steve’s bare chest. His fingers are freezing, and Steve can’t fight off the shiver that wracks through his body at the touch, soft skin yielding under a clawed hand.

Eddie stays still for a moment, his eyes never leaving Steve’s, before lowering his head next to his hand, ear against Steve’s chest, as if… as if listening to his heart.

Steve’s face flushes bright hot as his traitorous heart immediately picks up, betraying how affected he is by all the touching.

He is so lost to mortification he almost doesn’t notice the strange sound rising in the room, but the vibration against his chest catches his attention. Weird as it is, it doesn’t take long for Steve to understand Eddie is purring, loud and smug like Dustin’s cat always does when he perches on Steve’s lap. A silent laugh shakes Steve’s shoulders, and Eddie straightens up, a small, hesitant smile on his face. Sharp fangs press into his plush bottom lip, creating little dimples matching the ones on his cheeks. Steve only sees them for a second before Eddie shuffles even closer, leaning down again, aiming this time for Steve’s neck. Visions of those sharp fangs tearing into his throat only torment him for a second, before he hears Eddie snuffling against his pulse point, cold breath raising goosebumps over the bare skin.

Steve’s not sure his sleep stale sweat is a very alluring scent, but Eddie seems to think otherwise, as an oddly long tongue trails from the dip between Steve’s collarbones to the ticklish spot under his left ear, the deep purring emanating from Eddie’s chest growing louder with the action.

Steve lets out a strangled gasp at the wet sensation, the night air flowing from his open window immediately cooling the trail of saliva and enhancing the sensation. His flagging dick reacts immediately, rising to attention. Eddie raises his head, face hovering right over Steve’s as he searches his gaze, a sharp grin pulling at his lips when he finds whatever it is he’s looking for. Steve’s breath is shallow, fresh sweat beading at his temple as his body heats rapidly, hyper aware of Eddie’s skin so close to his own, their only point of contact the hand Eddie still has placed at the center of his chest and the strands of curly hair tickling his throat and shoulders.

“Stevie,” Eddie croaks again, with an edge of teasing to his voice this time, his cool breath brushing over Steve’s face. 

A pang of loss runs through Steve when Eddie sits back, mourning their proximity, until Eddie throws a leg over Steve to sit over him, much like he has taken to do during his nightly visits, except this time, Steve can feel it, his weight, the coldness emanating from his body, as he sits right over Steve’s crotch.

For once, Steve thanks his momentary paralysis, as he has no doubts his hips would have thrust up if he’d been free to move. Instead, he lets an admittedly embarrassing groan, which has Eddie smiling wilder and squirming a little, sending sparks flying through Steve’s spine, his core tightening with pleasure.

Leaning with a smug purr, his hair tickling along Steve’s scarred ribs, Eddie plants a kiss right over Steve’s sternum, nosing into his chest hair. Steve’s hands itch to reach for him, to stop him or urge him to keep going, that isn’t clear even in his own head. Staring at the dark blue of his bedroom ceiling, trying to breathe deeply enough to get enough oxygen to his brain so he can think about the situation properly, Steve leaves Eddie to his animalistic… scent marking?

The scrape of a fang over his left nipple startles him back into the present with a gasp, eyes snapping to Eddie’s mop of dark hair. Dark eyes glint at him between the strands before lowering again to focus on the sensitive area.

It’s more exploratory than intentional, the way that slick, serpentine tongue flicks out to follow the edges of Steve’s scars, to taste the moles and freckles that dot his entire body, and it drives him crazy. He feels filthy, enjoying it this way, though there’s no way Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing.

The thin sheets offer little protection, and though Eddie is still mostly shrouded in darkness, Steve’s pretty sure he’s just as naked. He can feel the muscles in Eddie’s thighs flexing on each side of his hips with every tiny movement, and there’s no ignoring how well Steve’s cock fits under his ass, trapped in delicious agony.

Once Steve notices that, no amount of imagining his old swimming coach naked helps to quell the fire building inside him. It only takes a few more minutes of Eddie playing with his chest like a kitten with a new toy to bring him to the edge; once there, it’s only a matter of Eddie shifting a little, Steve’s cock slipping between his buttcheeks, and Steve is thrown into a cramp-inducing climax, body going rigid under Eddie.

He comes to a few seconds later, chest heaving, opening his eyes to  a pleased and awestruck expression on Eddie’s face. They stare at each other for a silent second, before Eddie sits back and snakes his hand under the sheet and Steve’s underwear with a focused expression on his face. Excuses and apologies bubble up to his lips, dying on his tongue as Eddie drags a clawed finger in the sticky cum on Steve’s lower belly. Bringing it to his own mouth with a curious expression, Eddie licks Steve’s cum off of his finger, effectively strangling the breath out of Steve’s lungs in the same time.

Making a face at what Steve assumes to be a bitter salty taste, Eddie scrunches his nose and lets the sheet fall back over Steve’s modesty. Fondness floods Steve’s chest, and he smiles up at Eddie when the boy turns back towards him.

Body lax and fuzzy, more relaxed than it’s been in what feels like years, Steve quickly slips into a dreamless sleep, only conscious long enough to feel Eddie’s cool but solid presence laying down beside him, wrapping around him with a contented purr.

Steve falls asleep to the feeling of Eddie’s sharp, blackened fingers treading through his hair, playing with the strands, humming a discordant melody in a deep, raspy voice.

*

Steve wakes slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness, sensations coming back to his body; the slight chill of the air over his naked skin, something soft brushing against his cheek, an unpleasant sticky sensation tickling at his crotch. God, it’s been years since he’s come in his sleep like this, he’d thought he was over with this kind of teenage bullshit—

The memories of the night before hit him at the same time as he registers the arm thrown over his chest, and he snaps his eyes open, suddenly completely awake. The body against his shifts as it wakes, tangled curls tickling his nose and making him sneeze. All movement seizes, the other body going as stiff as his, before it springs up, light blue sheets slipping down to reveal pale skin mottled with dark ink and angry pink scars.

Eddie Munson is looking down at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Warm, brown, human eyes.

“What the fuck?” A rough, scraping voice escapes Eddie’s mouth, though it doesn’t look voluntary, if his even more confused expression and the hand flying to touch his own lips are to be believed.

“Me what the fuck? You what the fuck!” Steve replies intelligently. He’s not very proud of how he’s handling the situation, but he’s pretty sure he can be excused for that one. It does feel good to be able to talk — and, oh, to move as well, he checks as he mirrors Eddie and sits up — with Eddie there.

“I’m alive? I’m— I’m real?” Eddie overlooks Steve’s stupid answer, turning his eyes to his own — very naked — body, right hand hovering over his chest as if afraid to touch. Or to go through his own skin.

Too confused and tired of this shit to be delicate about it, Steve tugs on the curl of brown hair sticking to Eddie’s neck. “Seem real to me.”

Eddie slaps his hand with a wince and a frown, but at least the disbelief on his face fades from his expression for a second. Silence settles over them as Eddie wiggles his fingers in front of his face, pokes at his own cheeks, smushing them in a way that floods Steve’s heart with fondness.

“Am I… human?” Eddie asks at last, his eyes deliberately avoiding Steve’s this time, as he skims his right hand over his left forearm.

Steve studies him, the vulnerable slouch of his shoulders, the slightly unnatural paleness of his skin, and raises his own hand to brush Eddie’s hair away, revealing a pointed ear. “I’m not a hundred percent sure on that one,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the arch of Eddie’s ear. “You can still blush though, so that’s good news.”

Face flushed red, Eddie groans, falling forward to hide in the crook of Steve’s neck. “You’re an asshole, Harrington.”

“Well, I might be an asshole, but it looks like fucking me brought you back to life, so I think you should be grateful,” Steve says, barely containing a laugh as Eddie gives a halfhearted slap to his chest.

“I thought it was a dream! I thought I was dying or already dead and my brain just decided to let me have some fun in my final moments.”

“You often dream about breaking into my room to have your way with me?” Steve wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, reveling in the very firm, solid presence of him, though not as warm as he’d expect a human body to be.

Pushing away to give Steve a stern look, Eddie says with a flat voice, “Steve, I literally just came back from the dead. Stop trying to get in my pants.”

Steve shrugs and slips out of bed, giving Eddie some space. He steps out of his soiled underwear, confident that Eddie likes what he’s seeing. “I’m not the one who sex-dreamed myself back to life. You don’t have a leg to stand on here, Munson. At least <i>I</i> got a great orgasm out of it. And here I was, about to return the favor.”

And if he puts a bit more of a swing into his hips as he walks to the bathroom, well. The sound of bedsheets being shoved to the floor and footsteps following him in a hurry are so, so worth it.

[frutiylaris]

What do you think of the 3d printing crowd in Warhammer spaces. It looks cool but it's kinda annoying when something negative happens they immediately all say 3d print. I know they say it will be good in the long time run for money. While not mentioning all the risk it's come with. The fact you need a well vented area so you won't get poisoned is a big one.

Mostly it annoys me cause lots of people say just get a 3d printer and I don't have that kinda money or space. I live in a open house with a cat and my parents with my painting area near a roof leak that my mom says it's fine even though everytime it heavily rains my stuff get wet. Sorry for that rant the leak has been here for a couple of months.

In general for 3D printing, it is itself, a hobby. We have to establish that first. In general 3D printing is a mutli-tool you can assemble into what you like, but for warhammer it's mainly for 'better' or nicer bits for models. But equally you cannot just say "Just get a 3d printer!" Okay let's go down the list of what we need in order to be part of the warhammer space. 1. 3D printer, of which the cheapest on amazing is 300$ flat and only gets more expensive. 2. Paint and associated brushes, Price fluctuates depending on type of paint and brushes. 3. Spool, necessary in order to us the damn thing. 4. A well ventilated area and maintenence costs 5. Continous uninterrupted Power draw, have fun with the electricity bill. 6. Experience in whatever software is either bundled or you acquire. 7. Paid for STL's And let's look at buying GW models 1. Model box, either singular or starter army. 2. Paints, brushes, glue and other materials if needed Someone is going to have to bring me a god damn Excel sheet on their purchasing history because the numbers do not add up. 3D printing is MORE expensive to do just from surface level research. I hate to bring up some kind of wealth inequality argument but this is just a case of someone richer telling a poor person "Just spend more money and you can be like us." Which, uh, fuck you? Why should I be forced to pay upwards of $500+ to take part in a hobby? And no saying: "Gw's model prices are high!" BULLSHIT! That's not good either! People need to be better conciuess consumers and not take everything at face value because the mythical heaven of 3D printing is just a different gilded cage. I live in South Africa. I can't fucking take PART in minatures because the shipping costs are too much. I'm trying to get my friends to bring up issues with GW and ask them if they can't lower prices so that more people can take part in the hobby but I've gotten no response from them. I can only get into the lore and that frustrates me because I wan't to get my friends into warhammer but it's too expensive! And I get the same god damned excuse. "If you weren't so poor or lived in a developed country-" Yeah, real helpful. You going to give me cost effective solution or are you going to shame me for being poor? Shame me? Fuck off then, I don't want to hear it. People need to be conciuess that others are not in the same financial situation as them and can't be irresponsible with money as you can. Some of us can only get a space marine or two, maybe a combat patrol, and that's it. We have to make it work and scrap together and take part in a hobby we enjoy. THAT is the real gate that people are thrown in front of. I'm sick of it and I'm sick of this idea that 3D printing will solve everything. It won't. And yeah a roof leak sucks ass. I have one myself and a local cat gets stuck in there. Bastard is a nuisance. -Sol