#i need to consume content or i’ll go insane

[rainbowdiscoball]

hiii!!!!

i’m not too sure what i’ll use this blog for yet, but i’m excited to be here :)

my interests span from movies/tv, to books, music, history, and fun makeup <3

some (but not all) of the specifics

chappell roan 🕺

heartstopper 🍂

the 2010 dystopian book era 📚

sabrina carpenter 💋

art history 🖼️

conan gray 🌹

maisie peters 🪩

joan jett 🎸

lgbtqia+ history 🏳️‍🌈

willow ⚔️

cat burns 🎧

(i forgot every single thing i’ve ever liked trying to write this)

[thehighladywrites]

you’re just like me

pairing: cassian x crazy stalker reader

summary: cassian thinks of you as his insanely obsessive ex girlfriend who’s downright crazy. you are obviously cassian’s one true love and will eliminate anything that stands in your way.

warnings: murder, dark romance, cheeky little twist👀, stalking, obsessive behavior, sexual content, knives, nasty sex, um also a sick way of getting off just downright crazy, description of murder… um this is just kinda dark. two psychos encouraging each other

amara’s note: so i might be making this into a series bc i have an amazing idea for azriel next😫😫😫 also guys this was a lil dark lol

You couldn’t understand how Cassian had the nerve to walk away from you. There was absolutely nothing wrong with you, not one single thing. People just didn’t get it; love was supposed to be all-consuming, right? Obsession wasn’t a flaw. It was just proof you cared deeply. So what if you knew his schedule down to the minute, memorized the exact scent of his shampoo, or followed him everywhere he went like your very existence depended on it? That wasn’t weird, it was love. Real, burning, raw love.

Cassian must have been confused, that’s all. Poor thing, probably led astray by some outside influence. Maybe someone whispered lies into his ear or cast some strange spell over his mind. Yeah, that had to be it, because Cassian did love you. He did. He just needed to wake up and realize it again.

And when he did , he’d thank you for never letting go, for being the one person who truly saw him, who loved him without limits.

Seeing Cassian sitting next to some water-wraith makes your heart pound harder and harder, fury bubbling under your skin. That’s it — that’s why he hasn’t been his usual self. That wretched wraith is manipulating him, filling his head with filthy lies about you. Poisoning what was meant to be perfect.

You have to stop this. You have to save him. And the only way to do that is to get rid of her. Permanently.

Your hands itch for action, and you’re already stepping forward when a hand clamps around your wrist.

“Are you about to go over to Cassian?” Feyre’s calm voice cuts through your haze of rage. “Don’t cause a scene.”

You tilt your head, offering her a polite smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m simply going to claim what is rightfully mine.”

You tug at her grip, but it holds firm. Feyre’s eyes narrow. “Not so fast. You know Cassian will think you’re crazy if you kill her right here and now.”

Your breath catches. How the hell did she know? Were you that obvious?

Before you can respond, she steps closer, her intoxicating perfume filling your senses. Her voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine.

“If you want that little whore gone, gut her like a fucking fish. I’ll even help you. But not now, it’ll look bad for us.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Never in a million years would you have expected Feyre to suggest murder.

“Why are you so interested in me killing her?” you ask, voice curious.

A wicked smile curls at her lips before she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “That little bitch tried to fuck Rhys right in front of me. Didn’t even bother pretending she didn’t know who I was. She didn’t care. And now I want her gone.”

Her voice cracks with a manic edge before she smooths it over, composure snapping neatly back into place.

She was just like you, a comfort you took pleasure in, someone who understood that love was meant to be fierce, consuming, and without limits.

—

You did exactly what Feyre suggested — waited until the big meeting with all the courts had ended, biding your time until the wraith was on her way back to Spring. She was alone, vulnerable, just as you had hoped.

Before she could winnow away, you struck. Kidnapping her had been easy, far too easy. And then came the best part: stabbing her over and over until you were drenched in her warm blood. Her look of terror sent a sick thrill down your spine, flipping your stomach in delight. Fuck, it felt good to finally get rid of her. Like being on edge for an eternity and finally getting the sweet, blissful relief you'd craved.

You cleaned up meticulously, disposing of every shred of evidence. No one would ever find her.

Winnowing back to Velaris, you appeared just outside Cassian’s house, dagger still in hand. Breaking in through your usual route was second nature by now. You settled yourself on his sofa, waiting patiently like you always did when he needed a gentle reminder of who truly belonged to him.

The door creaked open, and Cassian trudged inside, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Normally, you'd feel a pang of sympathy for how hard he worked — how much he gave of himself. But not tonight. Tonight, you were kinda pissed.

His eyes flicked toward you, squinting in the dim light. He hesitated, unsure of who he was looking at until he flipped the lights on.

The color drained from his face as he stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. “What the hell?” His voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”

You tilted your head, offering a sweet, unwavering smile. “Hi, Cassian. Done being a manwhore? Ready to come back to your senses?”

His gaze darted to the blood soaking your clothes, the gleaming dagger in your hand. He shook his head in disbelief, taking another step back, as if distance could protect him from you.

“I said, what are you doing here?” His voice hardens, sharp and commanding.

Yours matches his, cold and steady. “Well, since you seem to be under some delusion that you can get away from me, I figured I’d burst your little bubble and remind you that’s not the case.”

A calm smile spreads across your lips as you lift the dagger, pointing it directly at him. The weight of it feels right in your hand, steady and sure.

Cassian’s chest rises and falls as tension coils through the room. “You’re insane,” he mutters, disbelief lacing every word.

“Call it what you want. Call it love, call it obsession. Call me fucking insane,” you say, taking a slow step forward. “But you belong to me, Cassian. Always have. Always will.”

You shake your head and laugh, a hollow, unsettling sound. “Gods, Cassian. I don't know why you're doing this to me. Stop being so damn difficult and realize there's no one else for you. That water-wraith slut sure knows it now.”

His face goes pale, a hand pressing against his chest. “W-what are you talking about? You... you killed her?” he asks, horrified.

“Sure did.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head. “And I'll end anyone you think can take my place. Am I clear? Either you realize it now, or I keep killing people. It's all up to you.” You shrug nonchalantly, inspecting your nails as if this conversation were about the weather.

There's a long silence, thick with tension, and then something changes.

His voice drops, lower and rougher. “Took you long enough.”

Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing in confusion. His pale, horrified expression has melted away, replaced by something darker, more primal. His eyes gleam with something unholy, and his mouth twists into a cruel, wicked smile.

“Was wondering when you’d kill that little wraith,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gods know it was hard feigning interest.”

A warmth spreads through your chest, almost dizzying. Was this a dream? No way. Cassian matching your intensity, your madness — that was only supposed to happen in fantasies.

“What?” you whisper, barely believing what you’re hearing.

He steps closer, eyes gleaming darkly. “Didn’t think I noticed your stalking? Or the way you conveniently disposed of anyone I talked to?” His smirk widens, sharp and dangerous. “The way you just happened to show up at places I had scheduled? I’ve been onto you since day one.”

Your breath catches, heart thundering. “And?”

“And I knew you were the one the day you snuck into my room and stared at me, thinking I didn’t know,” he murmurs, eyes burning into yours with dark satisfaction.

A shiver runs down your spine, both thrilled and unhinged by his words. “You knew?”

He leans in closer, voice low and possessive. “Of course I knew. Your heavy breathing was a dead giveaway, sweetheart. You looked like you were seconds away from crawling into bed with me.”

You grin, eyes gleaming with madness. “I almost did.”

And it was true. He had been shirtless, skin smooth and golden in the moonlight, hair tied back so his sharp, handsome features were perfectly highlighted. Only years of discipline had kept you rooted to the spot instead of crawling into bed with him like you’d wanted to.

His smile deepens, dark and taunting. “You should’ve.” He steps closer, voice dropping to a low, sinful whisper. “Not the Gods themselves could have pulled me away.”

Your pulse races, wild and electric. This was so not fucking happening. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not tempting you, my love.” he says, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “I’m inviting you.”

He looks down at you, hands settling on your hips as he pulls you so close. Cassian’s heat makes your brain go fuzzy and for a moment you’re lost. Just as he is about to kiss you…

”Wait. So you felt the same I did? Why did you act all high and mighty when you’re literally worse than me?” You step back and raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over your chest.

Cassian blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but instead of guilt or surprise softening his expression, something darker gleams in his eyes — intrigue, even delight. “You’re mad at me, baby?”

“Of course I’m mad!” you snap, practically vibrating with frustration. “You knew I’m bsessed with you, and instead of saying anything, you just sat there, playing with me, making me feel insane.”

Your grip on the dagger tightens in pure frustration. “Do you know how many nights I spent plotting ways to keep you? How much blood I spilled thinking you didn’t care?”

His lips twitch, eyes filled with dark amusement.

“You could’ve just matched my crazy from day one, but nooo, you had to be all stoic and mysterious. Gods, Cassian, that’s infuriating.”

He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re adorable when you’re pissed off, ya know? A cute, hotheaded little thing.”

“Adorable? I should stab you,” you snarl, but he only grins wider.

“Do it,” he whispers, his voice dripping with challenge. “I’d love to see what happens next.”

Your breath catches, heart racing as his words sink in. Cassian wasn’t just tolerating your madness, he wanted it, thrived on it, matched it beat for beat.

The realization sends a dizzy thrill through you, but you pout anyway, refusing to let him off the hook that easily. “You’re the worst,” you grumble, turning your head away with a dramatic huff.

He chuckles darkly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I was only interesed in seeing how far you’d go. Didn’t know if you’d run for the hills when I told you I murdered Helion’s advicer for looking at you yesterday.”

Your heart skips a beat, then thunders wildly in your chest. A sharp, wicked grin tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You did that?”

“Snapped his neck right before breakfast. Or did I feed him his own fingers then strangle him with his insides? Can’t say I remember.”

A sick thrill courses through you. Man, he was fucking perfect. It was so fucking wrong but your knees went weak and you started throbbing. He killed someone just for staring at you?

That was actually hot.

—

With no surprise, cassian fucked you for so long, so hard so fucking deep. It was so nasty, a reaaaal mess. one hand of his grabs onto your thigh, another gripping your waist while he’s glancing down at your sloppy cunt, what a masterpiece. Cassian decided he needed to see better so he pulled out as you whimpered pathetically.

his fingers smear his oozing cum all over you, from the slit all the way to your, swollen, throbbing clit.

“look at you makin’ a damn mess.” Your shaky hands gripping his wide shoulders start to slip. His arm tightens around your waist before you fall backwards. “fuckkkk, baby, look at how good your pussy was takin’ me, see how fucking wet she is?” you shudder as his fingers go knuckle deep into your cunt, giving you a few pumps before he pulls it right out, stringy wetness coating them.

he places two thick fingers inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him, silently pleading for him to fill you out.

“shiiit, not fair. you got these killer hips that’ll dumb down any man.” Cassian finally fills you up again, his fat cock gliding against ypur wall just right. “oh-fuckkkk thaaat’s it, slow baby. slow, fuck me good, yeah?”

Cassian’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his arm hurling behind the headboard. the desperation of having something to hold on to gives you an ego boost. was your just pussy too damn good?

“c-cas,” you moan, feeling his big fingers stroke their way against your waist to the very undersides of your thighs. you made sure to go slow, slow and steady just like he wanted. cassian’s got a sleazy grin, feeling the wetness of your cunt take him with all its might. “g-gonna cum!”

“i can tell, ah shit— you’re squeezin’ the fuck outta me,” He grunts in response as he feels you writhing, groaning at the gummy texture of your walls mightily gripping around him tight.

But it’s not enough. The rush lingers, addictive and gnawing, and you want more — need more. Something to cling to, something to burn into your memory for the rest of the week. A painfully sweet reminder of just how far you’ll both go for each other.

Your lips curl into a sly smile, voice dropping into a breathy tease. Finally, you’d lock in one last time to see if he was really as crazy as you. “Do you want to know,” You pause, your breath hitching in pleasure, “how it felt to kill t-that wraith?”

Cassian’s entire body tenses, his pupils dilating as a spark of something wild flickers in his eyes. His pulse kicks up, thrumming like a war drum. Fuck yeah, he wanted to know. Every sickening, twisted detail. Morality be damned—this was love.

“Tell me,” he demands, voice low and raw, filled with a dark hunger.

You grin wickedly, savoring his reaction. “It was beautiful,” you whimper, letting the memory flood your senses. “The way her breath hitched when she realized she was going to die? Gods, Cassian, it was intoxicating. She looked so helpless.”

His breath shudders as he pumps harder, his voice gravelly. “What did you feel?”

A dark satisfaction blooms in your chest. “Relief,” you murmur. “Pure relief. Like I’d been waiting forever and I was free.”

Cassian’s eyes burn into yours, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Absolutely perfect. Absolutely mine.”

Your heart races as you lean in, lips hovering near his ear. “Next time,” you purr, “I’ll let you watch then fuck me right there.”

That’s it. Those few sadistic words are all the power he needs to finish you both off.

“you’re a nasty fucking girl—ughhhh.”

his speed had the bed creaking louder, and cassian’s grunting in your ear was getting louder as you were feeling fuller than ever. with hot pounds of skin against skin roughly slapping against each other after each second, the two of you felt the same pangs of pleasure and fervent dizziness. “inside, cas—fuck, cum inside me!” before an inevitable flood of heavenly pleasure consumes you both.

your cunt throbs the second he spills an entire whopping load inside of you raw, and you nuzzle your face into his neck. “cas—,” you stammer, and your walls were oh so greedy, adjusting to the way your pussy convulses around him, sharp nails dragging over his back. you both cum together as a surge of electricity pulses through each of your veins.

“fuck… ya better take every drop, s-shit,” he groans before slumping back against the headboard, tugging you closer so your face rests on his neck.

This was absolutely perfect. Cassian was yours now—forever. He could never leave you. And if he tried? You wouldn’t just kill him; you’d burn the entire world down with him. If you couldn’t have him, no one could. He simply wouldn’t exist without you.

That was love.

And Cassian being utterly, unapologetically insane? A gift wrapped in chaos. He understood you better than anyone ever could. Maybe you’d push him, see just how far that darkness in him stretched. Because Cassian didn’t get jealous—he got even. He got murderous.

“I love you, Cassian. So, so much,” you sob into his neck, your body trembling under the weight of the confession.

“I know you do,” he rasps, his voice rough as he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around your shivering form. His strong arms envelop you completely, his touch obsessive, possessive. His hand trails down your hair and back with agonizing tenderness as though memorizing every inch of you.

But something gnaws at you—a flicker of unease. Why wasn’t he saying it back? Did he need more proof that you were his literal wife(even if he didn’t know it yet), his reason for fucking breathing?

As if sensing your doubt, his grip tightens, pulling you even closer until you could hear the rapid, frantic beat of his heart. His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and raw, trembling with emotion.

“There are no words for what I feel for you,” he says, voice breaking. “Love is too weak, too pitiful. What I feel for you—gods, it devours me whole. It’s a sickness, an obsession that digs its claws into me and never lets go. You are everything. My breath, my blood, my madness.”

His words crash over you, wild and terrifying and utterly beautiful. And you know—he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.

Always.

[lale-txt]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫

♫ Beckah Amani - High on Loving You (Talk)

We don't have to end Love you till we spent Love you till we got nothing else left

⭅ back to m.list

Somewhere in the distance, the sea is crashing against the shore. It’s still pouring, a warm summer rain in the midst of the night. Osamu finds her outside on the veranda. 

While he had locked himself in the bathroom, texting his friends in despair and having a revelation over how desperately he needed to kiss her or else he’ll go insane, she must have taken her notebook and retreated somewhere else. There was something cat-like about her, how she always seemed to slip away from him without ever straying too far. 

She’s sitting cross-legged on a beach towel, one they bought together in a small shop in Tokyo before they left for Okinawa, blissfully unaware that they wouldn’t get a chance to hang out at the beach like they imagined. It’s whatever. They still had fun–everything is fun when they’re together, even mundane things like getting groceries and brushing teeth side by side.

Osamu looks at her and thinks that he’s never been more in love.

The feeling is all-consuming; it rattles his bones and makes his head spin, like having a fever whenever he is in her proximity. It’s taking him apart from the inside, making space for her, somewhere she can lay her heart down when it gets too heavy. 

Judging from the small frown on her face, she is currently brooding over some recipe she came up with, or thinking how they could possibly try three different places to eat before they had to leave for the airport in the morning.

She glances over her shoulder and her face lights up when she notices him lingering there in the doorframe. It’s enough to make him falter. She closes her notebook and puts it aside, patting the empty spot beside her, and Osamu doesn’t hesitate and lets himself be drawn to her. When he sits down, her head falls against his shoulder like it always does these days, and his arm instinctively wraps around her middle, pulling her a little closer to him.

It’s bliss and it’s torture. 

“Can’t believe it’s our last night together,” she murmurs and the sadness in her voice is killing him on the inside. He should kiss it all away, he thinks. He could. Instead he tightens his grip around her, his fingers brushing over her side, grazing a sliver of skin where her shirt rucked up.

“Don’t say that,” he mumbles back, his chin resting on top of her head, “maybe I’ll just take you back to Osaka with me. Then we don’t have to be apart. Like, ever.”

Hearing her quiet laugh, he hums a little and wishes there was a way to freeze time. He’d be content just staying like this; with her in his arms and the quiet knowledge that they’re in love with each other. It should be enough. Except that it isn’t, and every atom of his body is aching to be with her.

She pulls slightly away from him to look him in the eyes, one of her hands coming up to his face and brushing a few strands of hair back before the hand settles in the nape of his neck, fingertips dancing across the sensitive skin there. 

“Your hair has gotten long,” she points out.

“I guess? Didn’t have time to take care of it before I left. Too busy working, and when I’m not working I’m too caught up thinking about you to get anything else done,” Osamu huffs with a small grin and leans a bit closer to her. He notices the way her gaze darts to his lips, then up to his eyes again. It’s making his throat feel dry. 

He really, really wants to kiss her. 

“Oh, so it’s my fault, alright,” she laughs and covers his mouth with her free hand as if she read his mind. He notices the slight tremble of her fingers but doesn’t comment on it. “I’ll cut it for you then. Easy.”

She lets him peel her hand away from his lips, a small kiss brushed against the palm of it before he looks up to her again. He keeps her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Have you ever cut hair before?” 

“I’ve been cutting Makki’s, with the same craft scissors ever since middle school,” she replies and laughs again when a long silence falls between them, Osamu’s expression something between amusement and resignation as he ponders on that information. 

“That’s like, the opposite of convincing and reassuring, but sure, let’s do it,” he says and rises to his feet, not letting go of her hand when he helps her up. It’s late and they should probably try and find some sleep but it feels impossible with all the unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

They move over to the bathroom and Osamu takes his shirt off, trying to be nonchalant about it but failing terribly when he catches her gaze in the mirror. She looks at him and he can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the silent questions, the longing. The hunger too. He wordlessly hands her the hair trimmer because it’s easier than letting the words clawing in the back of his throat out. She sits down on the edge of the bathtub and he settles on the bathroom floor between her legs, his back facing her.

It tickles, the way her fingers brush over the nape of his neck and his ears, gently tilting his head from side to side, up and down too, paired with the soft buzzing of the hair trimmer. Osamu thinks that he could get used to this; this odd domestic feeling blooming in his chest and her hands tangled in his hair. 

“Tokyo will be lonely without you,” she says quietly, then clicks her tongue a little when his head whips around to look at her. She grabs it to tilt it in the right position again and Osamu snickers.

“I’ll be around a lot more often if I get the deal for the shop,” he reassures her, and maybe himself too. He also thought about this a lot. “No getting rid of me that easily.”

She hums and shaves off a small part in the back of his neck, her fingers still gripping his hair to make sure he stays still. It’s by no means painful and Osamu can tell by the long pauses between her sentences that she’s focused, her thoughts hanging somewhere he can’t reach. She gets like this often and he wishes he could get a glimpse of everything going on in her head at times like these. 

“I want to visit you in Osaka as well,” she admits, brushing bits of hair off his shoulders. “But I don’t have an upcoming job there in the near future.”

“You don’t need an occasion to visit me, y’know? Just wanting to see me can be enough.”

Osamu’s voice is quieter now, softer. He’s slowly melting under her touch and once again he wonders if this is heaven or hell. Her fingertips on his skin leave little fires everywhere. She stills, turning off the hair trimmer and setting it aside on the edge of the bathtub. Her hands linger in his hair a little longer before they settle on his broad shoulders.

“Okay. Yeah. That’s good. Because I really wanna see you,” she mutters and leans in a little closer, till her head comes to rest against his back. She sighs deeply and Osamu wants nothing more but to take her into his arms, but he senses that this is not the time, not yet. Not with all the things unsaid between them. So he sits perfectly still with his heart rattling against his ribcage and his hands remembering the shape of her, so close and yet so far away. 

She whispers his name and everything inside of him crumbles. 

He wants to turn around and see her, really see her, but he feels her silent pleading, the tremble of her hands, her shallow breath against his bare skin, and he knows that he can’t. He can’t. She’d slip through his fingers again like a ghost, leaving him with barely an echo. Maybe he has to learn to love her from afar. 

Or so he thinks.

“I’m falling quite in love with you.” 

Fuck.

Osamu lets out a shuddered breath, slumping forwards a little. Head in his hands. Her fingers trace down his spine, leaving a trail of heat where she touches him; like she’s lightning lampions inside his entire being. Letting the light in. It’s what she’s good at.

“And I’m scared–so, so scared–of admitting this,” she murmurs, and Osamu hears the slight tremble in her voice. “Scared of messing this up. Scared to wake up and see you gone. Just… terrified, really.”

Her arms wrap around him from behind, and Osamu’s hands fall from his face up to her wrists, holding onto her as if he was afraid she’d disappear again. Fingertips grazing over her pulse points, appreciating the warmth she radiates. She covers his eyes with her hands and leans forward, till her lips are close to his ear, her breath hot and heavy against his skin before she whispers.

“I don’t know how to love without fear but you make me want to try it anyway.” 

Osamu swallows. Hard.

His throat feels dry, and he thinks that all this time, she has always been the braver one. 

The one who let him see who she is and where she comes from so unabashedly. The one who held her crown up high when everything inside of her was falling apart. The one who allowed this romance to bloom between them despite everything. 

She’s been there the whole time, asking to be loved. Sometimes hidden, sometimes cowering, sometimes masked to protect the tenderness of her heart; but always there. All he had to do was see her, recognize her and the love she was cradling in her hands, dripping from between her fingers, all spilled out. 

He doesn’t mind the mess.

Osamu reaches for her, and this time she doesn’t push him away but follows his pull, till she’s straddling his lap on the bathroom floor and takes his breath away with the way she looks back at him. Pleading eyes, silently begging for something only he can give her. With one hand on her thigh, the other cupping her cheek, Osamu drinks her in. Like an angel, he thinks. Mine. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” he announces, his voice is a little hoarse and her lips crack into a smile. One side of her face is nuzzled into his palm before his hand slides down her neck, back to the nape of it, pulling her closer till there’s merely an inch left between them. 

“Yeah, as promised,” she mutters, glancing at him through long fluttering lashes. She’s still smiling and it’s stirring a fire inside of him. God. He needs to invent a way to freeze time because he wants to live in this moment forever.

“You’re sassing me,” Osamu huffs but there’s no bite behind it. He grins as well now. “I’m about to kiss you for the first time and you’re sassing me.”

She laughs softly and Osamu thinks that he wants to hear the sound of that forever, till the end of time. He wants to be the reason for it, too. 

Osamu swallows the rest of her laughter when he closes the distance between their lips, kissing her with a gentleness only she could draw out of him. His heart hammers in his chest and every trail of thought he had until now dies down to a calm buzzing inside of him. Nothing matters but the girl in his lap, and her lips against his, and her ring size because surely he’s gonna make her his wife one day. There’s no doubt about that.

Her hands rest against his hips and the longer the kiss lasts, the more the tremble of them dies down and turns into something more cheeky as they trail up and down his side, thumbs drawing small circles against his hip bones. Osamu inhales sharply and pulls her closer, earning himself a small bite against his bottom lip when his hand on her thigh digs a little harder into her skin. He lets out a small husky laugh against her lips, before she’s kissing him again, an urgency behind it that only Osamu knows how to satiate.

Her lips part for him so willingly and it unravels something inside of Osamu.

“I’ve long fallen for you, y’know,” he murmurs between kisses, his hand tangled in her hair, tugging on it slightly to make sure she’s looking back at him. “Deeply, irrevocably, madly fallen for you.”

He was a fool for not kissing her sooner. He’ll make up for it plenty. After all, she’s the one who engraved her name into his entire being. His forehead rests against hers and he lets go of her thigh to take one of her hands, putting it over his heart. Letting her feel how it’s drumming her name, how it beats just for her in the soft, steady rhythm of his love.

“Be mine, will you?” “All yours. Always yours.”

•┈••✦ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

so that happened

i waited half a year to write this scene and i know some of you waited half a year to read this so i hope i did you guys justice. thank you for reading soft launch. i feel like i don't say that often enough

miya kissers... yeah.

Omi took his job of shutting Atsumu up very seriously (5 dead, 37 injured, more details at 8)

y/n took the chance and texted Omi when Osamu went out to buy some 2am ice cream for them

he wore a cap because cutting hair is NOT y/n's strong suit

y/n is stronger than me because if Osamu was shirtless in my proximity i would've climbed this man like a cat tree

chat how do we feel about this chapter because i for my part died a little writing and posting this

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[rivatar]

His Stress Relief

MDNI!🔞 based off this request!

Pairing: Aged!Up!Neteyam x fem!human!reader

W/c: 1.9k

Warnings/content: SMUT, Dub-con, p in v, cream pie, dom Neteyam, sub reader, dirty talk, cussing

A/n: I hope the anon who requested this enjoys, I didn’t know how you wanted it to go so I hope it’s okay and you like it!😩 And I hope the rest of you lovelies can enjoy too. Keep sending me requests & I love you all 💖

“Don’t go too far out, y/n!” Max shouted as you were already out the door.

It had been a stressful day for you in the lab. You had arrived on Pandora not even a full month ago. Everything was new to you, including a lot of the science they had here. You had just gotten your PhD not long before leaving for this mission and it was all you dreamed of was to work here, but now that you’re here, you found that the work was quite challenging and you didn’t like feeling stupid or behind everyone else.

After getting yelled at by another coworker for doing something wrong again, you decided you needed a break to calm your mind. You told Max you were going to take a walk right outside the facility, it wasn’t really a question for him but more so telling him where you’d be. He was a bit concerned for you as you were still new here but he knew he couldn’t stop you, nor had the time to babysit you.

The door slammed behind you. You spotted a slightly beaten path that led into the forest and decided to walk along it so that you could find your way back later on. You weren’t planning to go far of course but your racing thoughts occupied you so much it had you completely distracted.

Unbeknownst to you, a particular Na’vi had already spotted you and was following you quietly while staying tucked behind the various trees and plants of the forest.

Neteyam was out clearing his mind as well, he was also stressed like you, but his stress was due to his endless duties preparing to be Olo’eyktan soon. He noticed you and instantly became intrigued with you and decided to follow you and see what you were up to. It was something to take his mind off of his responsibilities for once.

You noticed a particularly amazing plant and crouched down to it, smiling gently. Next thing you knew a huge arm wrapped around your front and brought you back into them, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled in terror. You looked down and realized the arm was blue and your soul almost left your body.

“Hi, tawtute,” the creature bent down to speak in your ear.

“Please let me go!! I’m sorry for being out here! Please I’ll go back!” You pleaded and played nice while struggling against his steady hold.

“Nah. I think I’d rather keep you,” he spoke lowly and unbothered.

Fear rushed through your body like a flaming hot fire and consumed all your senses. You wanted to cry at your predicament but you had to keep your wits about you if you were gonna make it out alive.

“P-please! I’ll do anything just please let me go, I won’t tell a soul!” You pleaded some more.

He chuckled and was amused with you. “Anything?”

Confusion etched across your face. “What?”

“You said you’d do anything”

He sounded… suggestive. Or were you just going insane??

“…yeah?”

“I think I’ve got something in mind for your payment. And a way to relieve my stress”

To say your heart was beating out of your chest was an understatement.

“What do you want from me?” You cried.

“You’re not stupid, girl. You know what I want” he spoke sensually as he ran his other hand down the front of your body to cup your pussy. You gasped at the sudden sensation.

He pressed his hard bulge against your butt. “You understand now?”

You weakly nodded, fear still evident in your eyes but you were not wanting to upset him in any way by disagreeing.

Without anymore time to process this, he yanked your pants down and pushed your back forward, making you abruptly fall to your knees with your ass in the air.

You were flushed and felt exposed and vulnerable but before you could think about those feelings anymore, he suddenly ran his tongue up through your slit. You gasped at the pleasure.

“Mmm I love how your little human pussy tastes,” he groaned “much sweeter than the omatikaya girls”

He continued lapping up your juices like a starved man and you had no choice but to take it. It felt extremely good though, your hole clenched, wanting and needing attention too.

“Fucking slut. You act like you don’t want this too but your body says otherwise,” he said while prodding his thumb around your entrance. You tried to push yourself back to get the penetration you craved.

He laughed at your pathetic action. “Awww the little human needs some action? You should be thanking me” he spanked your ass hard.

You whimpered out loud and knew you were indeed being pathetic. But dammit, you were stressed and pent up too.

“Pleaseeee” you begged him shamelessly.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled mockingly.

You backed up more, wordlessly begging him to stop torturing you. So he granted your request and plunged an entire finger in, already brushing your cervix with his long digits.

“Mmm!! More!” You moaned for him.

He groaned at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls sucking him in perfectly.

“So warm and tight… fuck” he purred.

He then plunged another digit in, marveling at how you stretched for him. He roughly sped up, deciding he wanted to watch your pussy cum on his hand.

“Cum for me” he urged you while his other hand groped your ass.

You were whimpering and moaning on the ground, feeling the pleasure wash through your body as your incoming orgasm threatened to burst.

“Can feel you squeezing. Let it go, tawtute”

And just like that, as if his sultry tone and words were all you needed to reach your peak, you came all over his working fingers with your eyes rolling back in your head. It had to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Mmm, good job sevin” he praised your shaking form, still recovering from the after shocks.

He rolled your limp body over to where you could finally see his face. He was so handsome. Your fucked out face scanned over his toned, muscular body. Every curve and edge of him was perfectly carved by Eywa herself. His body was amazing but you couldn’t believe how stunning his face was. His bright yellow eyes held so much emotion and passion in them and you held his gaze, unable to look away.

He took this opportunity to untie his loincloth rather slowly. The skimpy item of clothing fell down to the ground and just when you thought he couldn’t get anymore visually stunning, he did. His cock was huge to you but fit his body proportions perfectly. It stood up loud and proud, the tip glistening with his shimmery precum.

“I take it you like it, huh?” He asked teasingly but also meant it.

You snapped your eyes back up to him and nodded slowly. Your brain was telling you to be scared but the rest of your body was screaming at you to indulge and enjoy.

He bent back down to your recovering body. His hands reached the bottom of your shirt and tugged up on it. To your own surprise, you submitted and lifted your arms to let him take off your shirt. You did the rest by then unclipping your bra.

He leaned back on his heels and his chest quickly rose and fell at the sight of you being completely naked. His face didn’t change though, he seemed to be trained to show no emotion, though his breath quickening and precum gathering at his tip gave away his arousal to you.

He got closer to you and leaned in for a brutal kiss. His large mouth completely engulfed yours and you tried to keep up with him.

He pulled back to look into your eyes and said, “I’m gonna fuck you. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna be coming back and begging for more after this”

He left you no time to object this and continued the kiss. Although at this point you were sure you wouldn’t argue with him. Your body was aching for attention and relief.

He effortlessly picked you up and set your back against the grass. “Spread open for me,” he tapped your thigh.

You did as you were told and gave him complete access. He couldn’t wait to feel your tight, wet pussy around him.

He held his dick and coated it in your juices, before angling to start pushing in.

“You are soaked, little human” he said admiringly.

You were also amazed at how aroused you were, you had to admit it had been a while but also none of your previous experiences have been this erotic. Nonetheless you blushed at him stating the obvious about your neediness.

He sunk deeper and deeper, you were both making little noises of discomfort and pleasure at the tight stretch.

“Never had a Na’vi cock huh? You’re in for a treat” he smiled a bit menacingly.

You chuckled nervously, still focusing on breathing and getting through the extreme stretch.

He bottomed out and you moaned as he brushed your cervix. “Is that the spot?”

“Mhmm” you whined.

“I know, I know. Hold on tight, my little tawtute slut”

He removed himself all the way out and slammed back in, his huge balls slapping your skin.

“Fuck” he grunted.

He continued his assault on your cunt, ruthlessly pounding into you like a feral animal, giving you no time to adjust fully.

His mouth was open and relaxed in an ‘o’ as he watched your pretty face screw up in pleasure, both of you taking in the feeling.

You held onto his bulky arms that were settled on either side of you as he hovered over you.

You eyes started welling up with tears from the overwhelming sensation. You were being stuffed to your fullest capacity.

He then bent down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, while his other hand pulled your other one. You screamed and arched your back off the ground.

“I can’t! It’s too much!!” You squealed and he only let up so he could speak to you.

“Thought you were begging for more earlier? You’ve gotta take it now, cmon just take it like the good slut I know you are”

He then started rubbing your clit, edging you on more. “You gonna cum again? Well I’m gonna cum deep in your pussy, I got a lot and it’ll be leaking out of you for days”

He sped up his thrusts. “Maybe when it leaks out of you, it can remind you of me and you can use it to touch yourself”

His lewd words made your coil snap yet again, and your pussy convulsed around his length.

“Good lil cockslut. Take my cum now” he grunted as his thrusts got irregular and his body locked up. His cum shot deep into you and you felt it get crowded in there with his dick still inside too.

He was panting and sweating above you, his eyes half lidded and looking delirious and spent.

You both suddenly heard a distant cry, like a Na’vi calling out as communication.

His ears went up and he pulled out quickly, both of you hissing at the loss. He scrambled to tie his loincloth back on. He leaned down to your face after you sat up.

“Next time you need some na’vi cock again, come to this spot and I will answer your calling” he winked and ran off with his bow in hand, leaving you naked and vulnerable. But… also satisfied.

Taglist: @bambithewriter @neteyamssyulang @professional-yapper @teyamshuman @nonamevenus

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 4

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Yes, please, he should be waiting,” you confirm and hang up the phone.  

You’re still in a daze. You barely remember getting to your desk or dialing the call. You’re functioning on habit alone as your mind reels. 

“Ahem,” the throat clear makes you wince and you look up at Loki as he looms on the other side of your monitor. 

You sit up straight and fix the screen, adjusting it so you can see. He tuts and grabs it again, stopping you from sinking into your work. That’s how you deal with things. You just ignore them. 

“What?” You look at him. 

“What?” He echoes.  

“Why are you still here? You have the...” you can’t even say it. You’re married. Somehow.  

“I’ve every right to stay close to my wife.” 

“Ooh, don’t say that,” you shake your head. 

“Pardon?” His brows tweak. 

“Don’t say it out loud. That word. Wife--” You suck in air and hold it in your chest. You shudder as you let it out slowly. 

“You should be flattered. I am a god. You are... minuscule, even for a Midgardian,” he slithers. 

“So why did you do that?” Your voice peaks. 

He snickers. “Well, let’s not get off to such a rough start. There are things still to tend to. As I have it, your marital traditions require a band?” 

He leans in to look over the monitor as your fingers flutter nervously by your keyboard. You follow his gaze and find a large green emerald mounted on a golden band. Where the heck did that come from? You raise your hand and try to wrench it off. It’s stuck! 

“It cannot be undone as easily that,” he taunts. “So, in my research, you are not so dissimilar to Asgardians in the way of marriage, however, I don’t think you’d be fond of a blood sacrifice so I’ll spare you that.” He laughs as you blanch at him. You’re annoyed at how amused he is. “Though the matter of consummation...” 

“Alright, no,” you stand and wave your hands. “No, no. I’m working. I’m busy.” Your voice is brittle and salty in your throat. You sweep around the desk and shoo him, “you need to go, alright? I have work to do and this is insane. So please, leave.” 

He catches you by the wrists as he faces you. You gulp at the iron in his grip. You tug but he doesn’t even flinch. You stare at his pale fingers. He feels like ice. 

“Loki, sir, later when I’m done we can discuss--” 

“I preferred when you called me a prince. Yes. Proper titles. ‘My Prince,’" he sneers. 

You sniff and squirm against his grasp, “my prince, please, will you go? I can’t handle this right now.” 

His lip curls as his green eyes blaze down at you. Is he angry? Entertained? Annoyed? 

“You needn’t be so scandalized. I am perfectly attractive. I am an exceptional choice in mate. By any standard in this universe, I am coveted. Don’t pretend that heart isn’t skipping a beat at my very touch,” he drawls. 

“Yes, it’s a condition. I’ve had it checked. They said it’s nothing to worry about,” you babble dumbly. You know he doesn’t mean that but you really can’t deal with his true implication. 

“We have to seal this union or I have no case for my residence--” 

“Got it. I get it. I understand,” you ramble. “But right now is not the time for that--” 

“There’s an office right there--” 

“Not now,” you repeat. “Loki,” you rip your hands free as his hold on you slackens. “I need to finish my work here and to be honest, I could use a little time to process this.” You turn away and stride back around the desk to face him from the other side. “I should have everything wrapped up at six and then we can figure things out.” 

You sit but your chair is higher than you expect. You blink and he’s gone. No, he’s below you. You writhe in his lap as he wraps an arm around your middle. You push on his elbow and squeal. 

“What are you doing?” You whine and kick your legs. 

“Well, darling, you sat in my lap. It’s rather forward of you,” he laughs. 

“Stop, stop!” You shove his arm helplessly. “I’m begging you to just--” 

“Oh, I knew you would beg--” 

“Enough!” You yell and stomp his foot. You get free and throw yourself off of him. You hit the desk and spin in the small space between you. You puff out as your adrenaline pumps behind your ears.  

You put your hands out, speechless. You can’t think. It’s all a scramble. You clap your palms together and twine your fingers. Then you cup your hands and cover your mouth. 

“Darling, you are dramatic,” he muses. 

You finally untangle your fingers and throw up your arms. You shake your head and turn to storm off. You don’t look back. You are going to hide in the bathroom until the world doesn’t feel so shaky. 

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Chapter 06

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ No warnings apply for this chapter. Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

“No, I believe you, Mom. You know you and Dad could never keep secrets from me, even before my powers manifested.”

“I just needed you to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, Morgan,” her mother replied, her voice tinged with frustration. “Your father and I are only just learning about this whole Compound V nonsense. We would have never let some corporate whack jobs experiment on our baby.”

Her parents might have been a thousand miles away, but Morgan could practically feel her mother’s righteous fury radiating through the phone. It was a familiar heat, protective and fierce, but this time, it only deepened the knot of unease in Morgan’s chest.

Pacing around her apartment, she’d been on the phone with them for over an hour, venting about the chaos of the last few weeks. So much had happened since she moved into the tower, and the pace of it all was becoming impossible to manage. Every day brought new complications, and it felt like the ground beneath her feet was constantly shifting.

Life really seemed to take a turn after the charity ball. A-Train had returned to work, but that came with all manner of drama. Ashley’s “Girls Get It Done” initiative launched soon after, alongside pre-production for a new Vought Studios movie, and both seemed to consume her every waking moment. Even worse, Stan had been slipping through her fingers, always too busy or too elusive for a real conversation, and that was enough to drive her insane.

But the most unsettling piece of all? Homelander’s sudden disappearance.

He’d been gone for days now. No one seemed to have any solid answers about where he could be, just a series of excuses that never quite fit. The Seven had been swamped with work, but Homelander’s absence hung over everything like a dark cloud.

The one thing that oddly brought any sense of comfort to her was that Charlie hadn’t gone missing alongside him.

And then, like a nuclear explosion, Vought’s biggest secret hit the world. The revelation that the company had been manufacturing superheroes for decades—quietly spinning the narrative around them—had saturated every media outlet that afternoon. At the epicenter of it all, seeing the chaos unfold at the tower, Morgan couldn’t make any sense of it.

“Except now these same corporate whack jobs have her on their payroll.” Her father’s gruff voice broke the silence on the other end. “I don’t feel safe with you there, Morgan.”

She exhaled slowly, trying to keep the tension from bleeding into her words. “I know, Dad. But it’s not as simple as just leaving.”

“I’m not asking you to walk out the door tonight,” her father replied, softer this time, but still firm. “But you can’t trust them. If they could do this to you—lie to your face, rewrite your life—what else are they hiding? You’ve got to be careful.”

Morgan pressed her free hand to her temple, the headache from earlier making a slow return. “I know. Believe me, I’m being careful.”

Before her father could respond, Morgan heard a knock at the door. The sound was sharp and impatient, making her stomach sink. Whoever was at her door had no intention of waiting. 

“Mom, Dad, I have to go,” she said quickly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll call you later, okay? And tell Sammy I said hi.”

“Alright, pumpkin,” her mom said, sounding reluctant. “We love you.”

Morgan hung up just as the door swung open.

Stormfront stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with a smirk that set Morgan’s teeth on edge. If she knew it wouldn’t cause more problems than it would fix, she would have loved to give that stupid smirk a solid right hook. One of the biggest things holding her back was simply the fact she’d wind up hurting herself more than Stormfront in the process. Telekinesis was always an option, but the idea of hitting her seemed so much more satisfying.

“Hey Boo, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” she asked with a bat of her eyelashes and a false smile.

“Oh, no, I was just wrapping up a call with my folks.” she said, mirroring Stormfront’s energy with a syrupy smile of her own. “Did you need something?”

“Nah, I was just swinging by to let you know Homelander’s back and Mr. Head Honcho himself just called a meeting.” she said far too casually. 

Morgan blinked. Homelander was back? A chill swept over her, but she quickly pushed it aside. Stormfront’s gaze lingered, a little too long, as if she were waiting for a reaction. Morgan kept her expression carefully neutral.

Deciding not to wait any longer for a response, she gave her a quick up and down glance. “You know, I’ll go ahead to the meeting while you transform and roll out. Don’t worry, I’ll give you the Cliffs Notes on what you miss.”

Morgan should have known better than to take off her armor in the middle of the day. At the very least she still had her Kevlar bodysuit on. 

“Yeah, don’t let everyone wait on my account,” Morgan replied with a tight smile. The door swung shut with a mental push before Stormfront could respond. Morgan didn’t care if she got out of the way in time.

Homelander’s return stirred a swirl of contradictory emotions. On one hand, relief—he was back within range. Given the duty Edgar had saddled her with, she couldn’t afford him running off like that. But on the other hand, unease—because now she was within his range too. Considering the day’s events, she could feel Vought’s proverbial noose tightening around her neck.

She pulled her armor into place, the familiar weight of it grounding her. Her presence here was important. Stan Edgar’s words came back to her, clipped and clinical: Your job is to keep him under control. I don’t care how you do it, but if you don’t, people will die .

That first meeting played back in her mind far too often, his implication chilling. 

Mind control, isn’t that what you do?  

She had refused. Using her telepathy to play puppeteer to someone like Homelander wasn’t a solution—it was a ticking time bomb. And if it went off, she would be caught in the blast.

No, her approach was subtler, more delicate. It had to be. She wasn’t going to rewrite his mind, wasn’t going to rob him of his free will—no matter how much Edgar might push her to. Instead, she walked the knife’s edge, nudging him in certain directions, steering him when she could. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than triggering his already unstable ego.

She adjusted her gloves with trembling fingers, staring into her faint reflection in the massive window of her living room. The armor kept her grounded, but the real weight pressing down on her wasn’t the titanium alloy. It was the tension of living in constant uncertainty—every interaction with Homelander a gamble.

Why had he disappeared like that? Did he need space after the charity ball? Had she triggered something when she’d opened up? The image of Madelyn Stillwell—unintentionally conjured in his mind—still haunted her.

His reaction to it—so visceral, so raw—had startled her in ways she hadn't anticipated. It wasn’t just the flicker of pain behind his eyes, but the sudden vulnerability he’d let slip for only a heartbeat before it was swallowed by the usual bravado. That moment had given her more insight into him than anything she’d picked up in passing thoughts.

Morgan inhaled deeply, brushing off her unease. This was no time to dwell. She didn’t have the luxury of second-guessing herself. Not now. Lifting her chin, she mentally steeled herself for whatever awaited her in that conference room.

However, as she made her way from her apartment with long, purposeful strides, Homelander was already leading The Seven out—his usual swagger laced with something sharper, more volatile. Inside the conference room, Stan Edgar stood calmly by the large table, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes tracking Homelander’s departure with cold intensity.

Morgan barely had to look at him to pick up the threads of what she’d missed. She let her mind graze his, and the scene unfolded in an instant.

First came the mission: an intercept on the coast, a boat carrying a supe-terrorist. Edgar’s plan was clear—use this as part of his new narrative around Compound V. The blame was to fall on Madelyn Stillwell, a convenient scapegoat to cleanse Vought’s hands of the mess.

That led to Homelander, simmering with frustration, who barely kept his temper in check. His resentment toward Vought was palpable, seething beneath the surface. You are my real family. This guy… He doesn’t care about us— the phrase rang out in his thoughts. Edgar, however, remained cold and unaffected, letting the tantrum play out.

It took only a moment for Morgan to absorb all of this, her telepathy cutting through Edgar's composed exterior like it was nothing. But he knew it too.

“Remember your job, Ms. Daly,” Edgar said, his voice low and controlled. His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering. Keep him under control.

Trying to keep Homelander under control without a heavy-handed approach was already easier said than done. Whether he meant to or not, Edgar had thrown a variable into the mix that made it even harder. Stormfront was there to stir the pot in any way she could, and that was enough to keep Morgan on edge all the way to a grisly scene where their perpetrator had last been spotted.

The Seven had found The Deep, an absolute wreck, over the body of a whale that had a speedboat run through it. Their target had most likely escaped into a nearby storm drain, and from what The Deep had seen, they weren’t alone. Morgan saw the glimpse of William Butcher, the alleged murderer of Stillwell, flash through his mind and immediately she tensed.

Stormfront was already hellbent on finding their target first with every intent to snatch victory from Homelander. At that, she had no intention of sparing the man either. If she were to alert the rest of the team to Butcher’s presence, she might as well be throwing a match into an oil refinery. 

The trolley was careening down the tracks and Morgan had to pick which direction it was going to go. 

Ultimately, Morgan made the decision to quietly tail Stormfront through the winding passageways that wove beneath the city. Something in her gut told her it was the right choice.

The air in the tunnels was unnervingly still, the only sound the distant, uneven footsteps of Stormfront ahead of her. Morgan reached out with her telepathy, cautiously extending her awareness through the surrounding walls. Her mind brushed lightly against each of her teammates', just to ensure they were all still alright.

Then, a sharp, violent tremor shattered the eerie silence, sending loose debris tumbling from the tunnel ceiling. Morgan flinched, her senses momentarily overwhelmed. The force of a telekinetic push from someone else buzzed in her brain.

Their target.

It didn’t take long for her to realize what had happened: the target had struck, using his powers to collapse part of the tunnel. Homelander was buried under tons of concrete, but Morgan wasn’t worried. He’d be out of the rubble soon enough.

Her mental tether snapped back to Stormfront just in time to sense her quickening pace, as if spurred on by the chaos. Morgan hesitated for only a heartbeat before breaking into a run. Stormfront was getting close to the surface, and whatever she was planning wasn’t good.

By the time Morgan reached topside, Stormfront was already marching through a massive hole in the side of an apartment building. The cries of terror rang through the air, but Morgan could also hear the panicked thoughts of civilians mingling with those of the target. Cutting through it all was Stormfront’s bloodlust—and not just for the man they were supposed to be tracking. No one in that building was safe.

Morgan felt her pulse spike. She had to stop this.

Stormfront’s electricity crackled in the air, her hands raised, ready to send a deadly blast toward one of the unwitting civilians they were supposed to be protecting.

“Stormfront!” Morgan shouted, sprinting toward her. “Stop!”

A silent curse flared in Stormfront’s mind as she lowered her hands, sparing the man she was about to execute—simply for the color of his skin. A half-baked plan surfaced in Stormfront’s mind as her eyes darted between Morgan, the terrified family between them, and the hallway where the target had disappeared. Too much chaos was unfolding around her for Morgan to stop what came next.

Arcs of lightning sliced through the air as Stormfront shot through the ceiling, careening toward the roof. With each floor she crashed through, the building’s integrity weakened more and more. That whole section of the apartment was set to collapse on everyone inside.

Morgan’s telekinesis had never been her strongest suit, but instinctively, she reached out to the floors above to steady them.

Everyone, please, you need to evacuate the building in a calm and orderly manner!

Her mental plea was as calm and measured as Morgan could manage as she touched the minds of the remaining residents. The family in the ruined living room looked stunned, but they quickly shook it off, making a hasty exit through the hole Stormfront had blasted into their home. All Morgan had to do was keep the building stable long enough for everyone to escape.

Maintaining her focus on the crumbling apartment, she tried to keep tabs on the minds of those trapped on the upper floors. With every ounce of her mental strength, she fought to keep the structure from collapsing entirely. Her ears began to ring as a trickle of blood trailed from her nose.

She was nearing her limit.

Her body trembled under the strain, and any thoughts of Stormfront or the rest of the team had all but vanished. She could feel her grip slipping as she counted the minds that had made it outside, but the number still wasn’t high enough. Not everyone had escaped.

“Psyren!”

It was impossible to tell whose voice it was—Starlight? Maybe Queen Maeve? Either way, the shout shattered her concentration.

Her mental reach violently snapped back, and the building collapsed. In a last-ditch effort, Morgan made one more push upward, softening the descent of a large chunk of the ceiling just before everything went dark. 

It was hard to say how much time passed by the time her senses slowly flickered back to life. The first thing she registered was the weight pressing down on her chest—layers of debris pinning her in place. Dust filled her lungs, and she could barely make out the distant voices cutting through the haze. 

“Psyren! Can you hear me?”

Maeve’s voice—urgent, panicked. It wasn’t a tone Morgan was used to hearing from her. 

A soft thud sounded nearby, the scraping of rubble shifting. Then, a new sensation—the pressure lightening, piece by piece, as someone began to dig her out. A shadow passed over her face, and for a brief moment, she caught sight of Black Noir’s unflinching form pulling aside a slab of concrete with ease.

More voices broke through—civilians, their thoughts a mixture of panic and resolve. Some of them were joining the efforts, moving debris with bare hands. Her mind, still sluggish from the strain, latched onto their thoughts briefly. They weren’t just saving her—they were pulling others from the wreckage as well.

Come on. Get up!

She urged herself to move as Noir reached out a hand. Wrestling through her pain and exhaustion with sheer stubbornness and willpower, she clapped her hand around his wrist and held on with what little strength she had as he pulled her upward. As she got her feet beneath her, she stood unsteadily atop the pile of debris, swaying. 

For a moment, everyone that wasn’t still digging through the rubble looked up at her, a stillness falling over them. Closing her eyes, she sifted through their thoughts. They were scared. Psyren, a symbol of indomitable force and hope, had almost fallen. She needed to show them she was alright.

Eyes snapping back open, she thrust a fist in the air, signaling their triumph.

A murmur spread through the gathered crowd, some of them shouting in relief, others just staring in awe. A faint smile tugged at her lips—she could hear the gratitude and hope in their minds, mixing with the pain and fear. Despite how much she hurt, and despite how much her body protested, she stood proud beside Maeve and Noir.

“Easy, Psyren,” Maeve murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder to gently steady her.

Maeve’s hand was the only thing keeping Morgan grounded as the world tilted precariously around her. Every breath sent a sharp pain through her chest. Despite the armor, she could feel the dull ache of cracked ribs beneath it. Her head pounded, vision wavering in and out of focus, but she refused to let herself fall. Not yet.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, voice strained as she tried to wave Maeve off. “Just need a second—”

As she fought to even put words together, the rest of The Seven converged on the wreckage. Starlight and A-Train arrived first, Starlight’s face pale as she scanned the damage. A-Train’s usual bravado was missing, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, catching sight of Morgan. “You’re lucky to still be standing after that.”

Morgan forced a tired smile, but didn’t have the energy to respond. The strain of her telekinesis, combined with the injuries she was trying to ignore, had taken a far greater toll than she was willing to admit.

Then came Homelander, descending from above, landing with a force that sent dust swirling around him. His eyes flicked between Morgan and the surrounding wreckage, sharp and calculating. The fury still simmering from his earlier clash with Stormfront only intensified when he noticed Morgan’s condition.

“Psyren,” he said, voice low and controlled, “what the hell happened here?”

“I—” Morgan started, her breath catching as the pain flared again. “I kept the building from collapsing completely… Everyone’s safe… I think.”

But as the words left her lips, Homelander’s expression darkened. His eyes narrowed as he looked her over, and she felt the sudden shift in the atmosphere—a mixture of concern and anger that caught her off guard. The way he was intently scanning her didn’t help either.

“You’re not fine,” he growled, stepping closer, his voice almost a whisper. “You’ve got two cracked ribs, and you’re bleeding internally.”

Morgan’s brow furrowed. She could feel the ache in her chest but hadn’t realized it was that bad. Even so, she squared her shoulders, unwilling to show weakness. “I can manage—”

“No,” Homelander cut her off, his tone final. “You’re done here.”

With dizzying speed, he scooped her up, cradling her with an unexpected gentleness. For a split second, Morgan considered protesting, but the throbbing pain and overwhelming exhaustion kept her silent.

Maeve shot Homelander a sidelong glance but didn’t argue. Morgan blinked, trying to focus. Behind him, Stormfront lingered, a smug look still plastered on her face. She glanced at Morgan briefly before shifting her attention elsewhere.

“I’m taking her back to the tower,” Homelander declared, ignoring the looks from the others. His grip tightened ever so slightly.

Morgan could barely keep her head upright, the fight quickly draining out of her. She hated to admit it, but Homelander was right. She wasn’t going to make it much further on her own.

“Just… don’t drop me,” she murmured, a weak attempt at humor, her voice barely audible.

A rare, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got you.”

He lifted off the ground, and the wreckage of the building fell away beneath them. Morgan let her head fall against his chest, closing her eyes. She caught the tail end of his thoughts—anger still simmering over Stormfront. She had stolen his thunder. But at least now, he still looked like their competent, compassionate leader in the end.

Song: Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie Author’s notes: While I definitely had a few story beats from season 2 I wanted to include, there were definitely a few I wanted changed. I’ve really enjoyed pitting Morgan against Stormfront in this way. Not only is it a little cathartic, but I think this adds a certain layer to the dynamic that Morgan and Homelander are developing. I’m so excited to explore it further. Thanks again for reading! Let me know what you thought!

Next chapter.

[ooooshetriesss]

Hey yall! Super quick reminder; This is MOST definitely a 18+ blog

(Which I feel is made clear) but IF for some reason I have blocked u, (which I usually never do) plz know it’s bcuz I saw u engaging w/my content/following me & either found indications u were underage OR no clear indication u we’rent a minor (ageless +faceless blogs/bios)

While I don’t owe an explanation of my boundaries to anyone as no is both as explanation & response; I NEVER wanna come across as rude/disrespectful to followers of my content, as well as the community in general, & while I understand ppl usually explore things prior to turning 18… I NEED YALL to know I CANNOT have me NOR my content have anything to do w/that… any creator who is ok w/that is probably someone u should stay away from.. while certain aspects of my post are msgs I think are important regardless of age, (I.e. being ace or Demi doesn’t make u less valid, or rope CAN absolutely be platonic)

THESE are NOT things you should be actively exploring in the community/looking up until ur of age..

Hell… for me, im insanely grateful finding rope when I did cause HAD I found it/ tried to get into the bdsm community at the fresh age of 18; holy f*ck …. I really don’t know if I would be alive (& that’s not an exaggeration; I’m 100% serious)

Rope + BDSM can be AMAZING & insanely fun & done safetly ; platonically in a cool environment.. it can be ALL those things…

But ONLY if you don’t rush into things; approach it w/AWARENESS, knowledge & care.

And a BIG part of that comes with age+experience idc what anyone says…

and NO! trusting the WRONG ppl or making a BAD CALL doesnt make u STUPID. hell; it makes u HUMAN!

and sadly, being younger makes us far more trusting.. it takes a few heart breaks/lessons to truly become aware NOT everyone means well… & to put it bluntly.. that is NOT soemthing u want to find out while you are bound at someones feet…

Can something still go wrong when ur of age OFC…

But u’ll be better equipped to where u maybe able to handle it…

A tree can’t heal when it’s hacked up as a young plant… it NEEDS a foundation..

Once it GETS that foundation.. even if something horrible happened… a huge storm took half of it out.. it’s more than likely able to grow back..

It’s not fully destroyed.

It actually has a fighting chance..

It’s the same concept waiting until ur of age to get into the scene.

Also, while I empathize with the amount of things this generation has been exposed to; to the point they’re truly desensitized when it comes to overtly graphic images both violent & sexual whether it be thru the internet + media..(hell even going to school everyday w/the knowledge u could be in class w/the next school shooter…

My dudes; my dudettes.. theydies, Naydies.. my brothers in keyboards & Christ…

I CANNOT… like absolutely CANNOT HAVE/ condone MINORS consuming my content/in my blog.. in my community.. anything like that.

(For what it’s worth; I’ll prob still be here up to the same shenanigans when ur actually of age so; u can swing by then)

But AS someone who was exposed to things that were FAR beyond appropriate for my age… someone who grew up & took pride in those words "Your so mature for your age" "youre so wise beyond ur yrs"

before those vry phrases were weaponized against me..

it affects u in ways you can’t even begin to fully appreciate until ur much older..

And while I always rolled my eyes hearing “you wouldn’t understand at your age” (bcuz most the times it was said to me; it was BS) this is absolutely a case & point where it applies 100%

If there’s 1 things an abundance of images LIKE these & the vast amounts of overtly sexual content out there (porn included) soils /absolutely destroy when it comes to young minds.. young ppl

It’s the most sacred thing of all…

Connection..

I can’t even begin to put into words or # the amount of yrs I suffered & connections I lost because of what was destroyed because of that.

It’s taken A LOT of healing… A LOT of shadow work, A LOT of therapy; lol. THAT work is why I have such a positive foundation for my play today.

But quite literally the most beautiful thing about all of this, gets destroyed..because u didn’t build ur ideas based off of actual human experience.. it was fantasies projected for you; onto u, scripts that wwre acted out infront of you to sell content, to sell an image..

but they dont make that differentiation; its just portrayed as 'how it is', all at a time when ur brain is STARVING for 1) information 2) connection .. a time in youe life when ur body is regulating its hormones & brain chemistry to create 'the adult its trying to become'

we really go thru 2 puberty's as humans; one in our teens & the other in our early 20's before our brain fully develops at 25.

(theres actually been recent studies that suggest neurodivergent brains don't finish fully developing until they're 30s ; something that would absolutely explain a lot in my personal case... & yet are seen/treated legally as ADULTS at 18..

Says a lot they don’t want u to drink till your 21; but you can sign your life away to the military at 18…👀

No one ‘magically’ turns into an adult at 18… life is SO much more complex than that. But it’s quite literally the bare minimum in giving urself a chance at a healthy happy relationship w bdsm or rope. (& if ur anything like me… you’ll probably still absolutely fk up then 😂; BUT you will be BETTER EQUIPPED to protect urself.

Save urself the trauma, the time… start exploring these themes-content when ur OF AGE!!!

So… if I blocked/remove u… PLS know..: it’s done out of love & protection.

💗♥️💗 ILU all

Be kind to yourself, be patient with yourself. You are worth the wait. I promise… ANYONE playing+rigger who IS worth working w WILL NEVER pressure + press you…& they CERTAINLY wouldn’t even LOOK at u until u were of age. Full stop.

And ofc, if a creator says MDNI, RESPECT THEIR BOUNDARIES/consent.

Thank u for coming to yet another TedTalk; sincerely; @ooooshetriesss aka hummmmingbird aka Fil 💗

[whatcruelworldisthis]

recollection - muichirou (angst?)

a/n: loosely based off alice in borderland and some random other stuff

~

She roamed the streets, hoping to see him again, if only for a second. A strange gut feeling washed over her whenever he caught her eye. He was so uncannily familiar, and it didn’t sit right with her. She needed to figure this out.

Bits of minty hair flowed lightly with the wind, and she knew exactly where to go. She approached him, staying off to the side awkwardly. 

He'll think I'm weird. 

Luckily, he caught her in the corner of his eye, slowly moving toward the girl. “Hey, have we met?” he asked blankly, emotions hidden. He, too, felt that slightest bit of familiarity that he really couldn’t place. 

Soon, the bustling atmosphere seemed to hush around the two. She hesitated, “I- don’t think so.”

It was highly confusing. And weird. She could have sworn he wasn’t some stranger, but she had no recollection of when they may have met.

Silence.

“I swear I’ve seen you before...” He claimed.

“Well, yeah,” she said. “Walking home on this sidewalk.”

“So we haven’t met.”

“I guess not. Maybe a dream?”

“Maybe. Well, I’ll see you later, I guess.”

“See ya.”

She went home that night, puzzled, at her wit’s end. Though it may have been difficult, she forced herself to sleep; this was only to find herself in a dream.

It was him—the boy from the sidewalk. She didn’t even know his name, yet felt so close to him already. 

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

Two people sat atop the largest building in Okutama, gazing up at the night sky. It was pretty late, and nothing was open—the only lighting was induced by the stars alone. The boy’s face shone clearer in the pale moonlight. She was falling for him.

“Muichirou,” she spoke, just above a whisper.

“Hm?”

“I wish… I wish we could just live a normal life. Free of harm and this consuming turmoil." The woman paused.

"I wish we were two different people.”

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

And that’s when it came to her. She woke, remembering a detail from her ripe dream. Around the woman's shoulders lay a haori. She recognized this haori all too well. 

When (name) was a young girl, she discovered a medium-sized cardboard box underneath her bed, the contents being a Japanese garment. Whenever she had asked about it, her parents would just brush it off and say it was passed down. But the reality of it came to her. She was the woman in her dream.

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

She stirred for the second time, forcing herself awake to get ready. She had something to do.

When he landed in her field of vision this time, she did something about it. She ran over to him, waving him down. 

"I think there's something you should see." 

So, sure enough, he followed her home. "What is it?"

She handed him the worn-down, square box, looking him in his eyes silently. "You should have this."

"Thanks?" He walked off, her bowing behind him. She hoped with her whole being that this would make a difference.

When he got home, he carefully removed the packing tape from the box, revealing what lay inside. "What the-?" The vision floated aimlessly through his mind. The thought was far from exact, but the moment he touched the cloth, it struck him. He lifted the haori from its vessel, staring at it with a mix of relief and horror. The memory flew close to the barrier of his subconscious. He didn't recall much, but he knew she was more than just some stranger. 

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

The next day, he went running when he saw her once more. "Hey!" He yelled. She was searching for him as well.

"How did you-?"

"It's mine," she stated. 

His gaze softened. "I-"

"I know it's insane. We'll just have to accept it, I guess."

He quickly embraced her. Her eyes started to tear up. She hugged back, "Muichiro.."

"(name)." She locked fingers with him—the same fingers as in their vision. For the first time in a while, she felt joy.

Maybe now we could finally live life in the present; beyond despair.

[margaetyrell]

hi luvs! how are you?? i hope everything’s great 😊 i’m not fully back yet bc i’m on vacation atm, just came to save a long queue to keep my blog active bc it’s pretty much dead. so i’m gonna put all the boring details bellow in case you wonder about the future content of this blog and my general thoughts (if you’re up to read, follow the cut!) please drink water, protect yourselves from this insane weather and take care!! see you all soon 💜

okay so. i’m obviously still disappointed on taylor, but after everything i’ve realised it’s not worth it anymore. i’m still a fan and i cannot deny that. altho it’s true that i’ve distanced myself from her, she is and will always be a big part of my life! and i’d be lying if i said i’m not excited for 1989, bc i bloody am!! it’s one of my fave albums of all time and i really don’t have the strength anymore to let anything else ruin that for me (unless there’s a mh collab on it, then i’ll explode lmao) but the truth is that i’m just an art consumer as we all are, and she is pure art. so i’ll just keep doing my thing while she does hers. end!

that doesn’t mean i’ve erased everything from my brain or that it won’t upset me if she messes up again. but i’m choosing to stay away from drama, not just hers but fandom drama in general. the past year has been a roller coaster of emotions and i’m just tired of it. and the funny thing is that it doesn’t really matter! it doesn’t matter AT ALL. its only point is to make me bitter and out of patience, and i’m just another random person with random thoughts that won’t have any impact on her or anybody, whether i’m right or wrong, so!

in conclusion: i’m a swiftie who is not a swiftie who is a swiftie who is not part of the fandom who is a gaylor who is not an unhinged gaylor who is no one at all. hope this helps!

which brings us to the point: stfu sarah what are we going to see here. ofc taylor, but! i’m not gonna stress anymore over not missing a single post. i’ll just vibe with it and save whatever’s relevant to me from now on (i’ve saved a lot already) which are mostly graphics, fanart, lyrics and tagged posts (you can keep tagging me on everything btw, and thanks again to the few who still do lols love ya!!!) but the main content can be found on the celeb blog i run with my bestie (candyshapes), which not only focuses on taylor but she’s like 70% of it, and where my dear @jdschecter has made sure not to miss any details of the tour (thanks ems, i’d be lost without you <3) so i really recommend you follow us there !! the rest, as usual, will be a multifandom blog with special dedication to taylor and GoT.

that’s all ! if you’ve read everything, thank you SO much. i know it wasn’t necessary, but i wanted to clear that up nevertheless. first, bc i’m pretty true to my opinions and i’ve spent a great deal of time trying to figure this out. and second, bc i’ve lost many of you in the process and that’s understandable. but if i’m going to be back, i need to make sure i enjoy it here and curate my experience once and for all, as you all should! also thanks again to all the people that has understood my situation and showed me support in the past. love you and miss you to bits, mwah!!

[nutley-rp]

personal

TOWER was momentous, fulfilling, and incredible fun. There are so many moments I’ll carry forward with me, times when the others and I collectively got swept up with insanity, and I’ll miss it! The highs (and almost all of it were highs) were unbelievable, and I think that’s why I’m feeling kind of weird now because I also know it wasn’t sustainable. I have to change things, but what can replace something so incredible?

I look back at my routine for the past...8 months of TOWER and I see a paper trail of unbridled creativity, execution, and achievement. I’m happy with my delivery even AS I knowingly burned past my limit and pushed to ensure the finale would live up to the weeks and weeks of build up.

It’s over. I’m proud of it. But now, I’m exhausted and I have to fill all this freed up time with less rp, unless I want to go mad.

From TOWER and from my past endeavors, I see how inspiration has been passed on to others. I try to focus on that and keep myself from getting caught in negative spirals. I think there are multiple factors at play for my funk right now...the end of TOWER obviously, but also the end of my ‘honeymoon’ phase of living alone. Roughly a year has passed since the last major change in my life and everything new has become a routine. I’m someone who can start things but once it becomes a certain way, it can become overgrown...and that’s what I’m sensing. Things in my life are overgrown and I have to prune back, change, live in a more balanced way.

I just want to get this out of my head. If friends are reading this, then know that this isn’t a specific jab at you or whatever, nor is it a call for things to change on your side. If behavior radically changed after posting this, that’s even more gut dropping...the most I want you to take out of this is understanding and potentially forgiveness for my terrible memory. If I’m less intense, if I make a mistake now, then remember that the way I was during TOWER was me at like, 500% focus, which I can’t sustain.

It’s kind of funny that TOWER’s central theme is about flying too close to the sun and living with the consequences, given what’s happening to me now.

I need to take things easy, and it’s not just a “go on vacation and come back refreshed” easy. It may take months and it may never come back. But I want to safeguard the love and passion I have for rp; I don’t want it to turn into resentment. Please be patient and please understand if I need to drop things or even drop off the face of rp communities for a time. If I do go, I really don’t expect space to be left for me forever! If there is when I return, know that I appreciate it, but I really just want you to continue to have fun while I feel things out on my end.

There are a lot of things. I’m nearing 30, I’m feeling like I didn’t do a lot of things soon enough, I’m content but thinking I should strive for more. I’m shy and generally quite isolated, happy with that, but also wondering if that should try to change too. Friends are moving on, moving out and...these are just things in my life. Rp will remain a part of it, but it can’t consume me the way it did during TOWER. I have to figure things out.

[buckyhoney]

I could not agree more, I don’t even know what’s going on at this point. I didn’t even know ant man came out until my friend said she just finished watching it yesterday 🫠

its not bc i think phase four was bad by any means (it had its bad movies but definitely not a bad phase) my main issue is that it was just sooo fast and sooo much all at once

having 5+ series & 6 movies in 2 years is INSANE and so overwhelming- i can’t imagine how overwhelming it was for causal/new viewers. i was starting to get overwhelmed with the amount of content coming out after loki, it was just so much especially with the series releasing once a week

they should have stretched phase 4 out longer- maybe like 4 years? so the anticipation built more and post production had time to actually make shit look good. i miss waiting for a year for a new marvel movie or sometimes even 2 years, the anticipation + payoff was soooo good!!

+ i also think people go into mcu movies with endgame/infinity war expectations when phase 4 is literally a building phase

i haven’t even seen some of the series & i’m not even sure when i’ll be seeing antman or guardians honestly, im just so burnt out as a consumer/viewer! and this isnt to say im no longer a fan or that im not excited about some projects- but i definitely need a mcu break for a bit😅 (from new projects at least)

[phoenixfeathersinfall]

Best of tags and replies from this post:

“Find the appropriate mutual to ramble at and yap for 2-4 hours.”

“Make a playlist, but if it gets bad enough, I write.”

“Listen, I write about it because it’s my only viable avenue. Brain has never gone brrr from making moodboards or playlists. I love them when others do them, but they’re not my fan language.”

“I make a Google Slide to tell my friends about why they’re interesting.”

“Secret option: rant to friends about it.”

“Sit there and rotate them at high speed inside my head.”

“Think very hard about them, rotate them in my head, spin them around and see how it takes off like a helicopter.”

“I put them in games I’m playing.” 

“Draw!! If I have feelings about The Plot or The World I’ll write something instead, but for characters, they get art.”

“Write, draw, playlist in that order. The further you progress the deeper my feelings are.”

“There’s no ‘go insane’ option???”

“ ← Same prev, once when I finished reading a book I just walked around in circles in my driveway.” 

“It depends on the feelings I’m having but definitely not making gifs, I don’t have that kind of ability.”

“Mostly write, bit of drawing. The drawing is for a RETURN to an interest, the first dive into an interest begs for the written word.”

“Go f**ing crazy in the Discord about it.”

“Usually write, then playlist, then draw, but my latest obsession has included gifs for the first time.”

“Make a 3D character/model of them.”

“Write something, though I won’t necessarily be able to come up with more than just one scene.”

“Me: I love this guy, what if I wrote several posts of headcanons about his culture on the Tumblr dot com…” 

“First I close my eyes and Imagine Scenes, but that’s to lead into writing.” 

“Meta/analysis/shouting into the void posts is fastest for me, so usually that.”

“I send my friends gifs of people screaming, crying, rolling around on the floor.”

“Write about it if I have an idea, listen to music if I’m just in my feelings.”

“Is it still creative if the answer is ‘listen to music and go for a walk/pace around like a mad scientist while Thinking Thoughts?’ Just wondering.”

“I just…Dwell. And consume other people’s writing, drawing, etc.”

“Listen to music really hard and think about The Character.”

“If The Character is an OC, draw something about it. If The Character is a character, make an incomprehensible text post or hold my head in my hands and think really hard about them.”

“I imagine him so f***ing hard in my head it gives me a Category 8 migraine.”

“Write…I desperately need more content about them, but there’s only so much, so I must MAKE MORE CONTENT MYSELF.” 

“Realistically, if I am having The Character thoughts, I just rotate like a microwave. Mmmmm….”

“Write about it and send it to my friend who also experiences feelings about The Character.”

“I have already written about 200k words about The Character and I have no intention of stopping now.”

“Write about it, I like putting my beans in scenarios.”

“Draw a horrible doodle, remember I’m bad at art, and then write a 30k fic.”

“I used to breed Pokemon based on all the characters with as in-character movesets as I could.” 

“Put them into Situations in my head.”

“Draw or write about it, it depends on which area of my brain it activates.”

“Playlist with intent to draw or write (haven’t gotten there yet.)” 

“Sometimes cosplay or other fiber arts because I want to be/hold the character in real life (normal.)”

“My ideas Can stem from feelings, but more often it stems from feeling ‘I want to play toys with the characters.’ If I’m having Feelings it’s straight to the Tumblr post to say I’M HAVING FEELINGS, I’M THINKING ABOUT X FACTS AND Y IMPLICATIONS. EVERYONE CONSIDER THIS WITH ME AND CRY ALSO!!!”

“Playlist is a crucial vibes overflow valve, writing requires an actual thought.”

“Wait until bedtime and then imagine them suffering the worst whumps.”

“Lay in bed in the wee hours of the night making up AUs and character studies I will never write. Also, occasionally write something. Occasionally.” 

“Honestly sometimes I make spreadsheets about them. (Brainrotting over a blorbo): I have to make some kind of spreadsheet.” 

“I’m bald option: SCREAM!”

Great work everyone, some of these are FAR too relatable...

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAO actually I ended up enjoying it a LOT more than expected it’s lowkey not like a genre I’d typically get involved it but it was surprisingly kinda light and entertaining?? It’s called fragaria memories it’s (according to wiki) a multimedia project by Sanrio LMAO they mainly have stuff on YouTube like voice dramas and little Q and As and music (???) which is also why I said very different from what I typically consume LOL Although I’ll admit it’s not super deep or anything but I haven’t seen any insane fans either so I’m kinda enjoying the chill aspects of it!! I’ve also always liked Sanrio too so that probably helps but yeah if you decide to give it a try hit me up!! Made me laugh a bit I’m ngl and I think the concepts kinda cute

LMAOAAO that’s what makes it so funny it’s so ridiculous we definitely watched it for the memes and got semi invested in the drama but the secondhand embarrassment was so bad I’d have to shut it off mid episode lowkey another no brain chill watch sort of thing I feel

YAYY CONGRATS!!! I almost forgot abt the carnivorous Pegasi ngl I’m looking forward to reading more about them than sae (#oppmoment)

YUKIIIIIII did him justice except he needs more screen time but omg SHIDOU??? I have not opened tiktok in awhile the editors are cooking fr but YESS omg so excited for the upcoming Barou goal

SHDHSHS I MISINTERPRETED THAT I THOUGHT YOU MEANT YOU WERE DROPPING A CHAPTER BOMB LMFAOOAAO HUT NOOO HOLLYHOCK YOU WILL BE MISSED BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN!!! Its ok gotta focus your efforts for the quality fics very understandable

- Karasu anon

ooh that sounds fun!! confession i actually never got into sanrio so i know like 0 lore or ANY of the characters 😓 my cousin had a huge hello kitty phase iirc but when i was that age i was into like paleontology and geology for some reason?? so i was always reading like textbooks and field guides and shit 😭 but a fun silly unserious fandom is always great to be in!! maybe it’s time i actually figure out who the characters are i feel like sanrio is such a popular thing online i’m behind the curve for not knowing abt it

ALSO WAIT SLIGHTLY OFF TOPIC BUT SOMEONE FINALLY MADE THE KARASU EDIT I MANIFESTED IN ONE OF OUR CONVOS A WHILE BACK idk if you saw it or not but here’s a link…bro i’m going to miss tik tok when it’s gone ong 😭💔

IT WAS CRAZYYY ngl whenever i get the adrien agreste comments on my stories i do laugh though they’re funny 🙂‍↕️ there’s so many iconic audios from miraculous i feel like it’s one of those things where everyone has heard smth from it

HAHAHA i keep writing more for my opps than my favs 😫 but i’ve been traveling the past few days so not much work was done alas however i’m hoping to finish soon because i haven’t posted any xreader content since the angel kaiser one shot in mid october 😰

yukimiya looked sooo good and him in the recent official art too?? with the flowers and whatnot…ugh he’s so handsome 😭 and YESSSS LESS THAN 24 HOURS UNTIL BAROU I’M SO HYPE LIKE SOOOO SOSOSO HYPE

LMAOOOO I’M SORRY FOR THE MISUNDERSTANDING 😔 i need to get through a request or two and then i have to write a one shot which i’ve planned and MANY people have been asking for + i think you will really enjoy before i need to get on updating the oaeu and pursuit as well as possibly something super secret and new (no promises) so hollyhock had to take one for the team unfortunately 😩 lots to do in the miraverse as you can see!! but it’s all very exciting and should be fun i hope

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN- READER/TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

Reader’s POV

I think I love Toji.

 It’s scaring me, actually… how quickly I’m falling for him. These past six weeks have been some of the best moments of my life. I feel light. Warm. Safe… I feel content. 

 I’m happy around Toji, and after the amazing sex we had last night, I believe my feelings have solidified. 

 He couldn’t keep his hands off me last night. Not in the bathtub. Not while cuddling in my bed and our intimate makeout session. And certainly not when his cock is currently sitting inside of me while he plays with my pussy. 

 Toji Fushiguro is a clingy partner. I’ve learned this over time and after last night. Overdramatic, as well. Claiming that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without having his dick being warmed up. Of course, like the needy woman I am, I acquiesced to his request. 

 The twitching. The purposely pulling me closer to him so his cock could sink deeper inside of me. The stretch… Gosh, I know I came a few times already. 

 I need him. I’ll always need him, I think. 

 Is it too early for me to feel this way? My friends did say I catch feelings quickly, but I can’t help myself around Toji. 

 Why would I want to be without his open mouth kisses that’s peppered across my neck? Or how he tongues my ear and whispers how beautiful I am? That he wants to fuck me over and over again until my hips are numb and my legs give up on me? 

 … Why?

 Why when he makes me feel so good?

 His pace on my clit increases pulling me closer to another release this morning. I feel his cock expanding inside of me and my pussy molds around the girth of him. 

 “Oh, baby,” I breathed, pushing my ass back further against his pelvis. 

 “Mhm, your pussy is warmer in the morning, sweets.” God, that fucking voice. 

 We’ve talked on the phone late at night and the crack of dawn, but hearing the gruffness, the rasp and sleepiness of it in person has my pussy throbbing.

 He continues, pressing a kiss behind my ear, whispering, “My favorite fucking cockwarmer. You’d let me sleep in it every night?”

 I should be ashamed at how eagerly I nod in response to his question. But I still managed to tease him. “Maybe.” 

 He lets out an airy chuckle. “Maybe? You little fucking minx. Why do you always have to play like that? Hm?”

 “Toji, you’re going to make me come,” I barely managed to say through a whimper. 

 He’s also on the verge of coming again. I can feel it, how his dick is quivering inside my pussy. He’s bound to stuff me with his release and I am happily forced to take more of it. Last night. Once this morning—I’m completely filled with Toji.

 Our lips find each other for a kiss, rolling our tongues and having the vibration of our moans bounce around in each other’s mouths. Kissing Toji feels like a cure on a bad day. Kissing him feels like if I go even ten minutes without his lips, I’d go insane. 

 It’s because you love him.

 I do. I love Toji Fushiguro, and now he’s officially mine. My heart, mind, and body is his to keep, in his possession. 

 In this lifetime—and probably a previous one. 

 I want to spend my Saturday mornings like this, laying in bed nude with the warmth of Toji by my side. We eventually cleaned up after our earlier session and have been relaxing since.

 His back is to me and I take this to my advantage to map out his back tattoo I never knew he had. 

 My fingertips glide across his flesh, every line and color that marks him is beautifully designed into a dragon. His back muscles are sexy. Hard. Masculine. 

 But—they’re not alone. 

 Scars. 

 Lots of them.

 I feel Toji’s body tensing underneath my touch when I rub them, so I pull back. 

 We sit in silence for about ten minutes, and I am left to become consumed in my musings. 

 How did he get these scars? Who did this to him? His family? I know his childhood was bad, but Toji hasn't opened up to me about it in detail. I can only imagine what he’s been through, and I know he’s not one to want someone to cry on his behalf, however, I do anyways. 

 A lonely tear cascades my cheek because no one deserves pain like this. I just want to protect this man and have him in my embrace. Without any thought, I leave delicate kisses along his scars.

 At first, he becomes rigid. Maybe because this type of affection is foreign to him or he hasn’t felt it in a long time. But the more I peck my lips across his scars, he relaxes, causing my heart to melt like butter. 

 Toji startled me a bit when he abruptly turned around to face me. He looks at me and lazily grins. 

 Morning looks beautiful on him. I thought this the first time we woke up together almost two months ago. The soft lines around his eyes, indicating his maturity, have become more profound since then. 

 His viridescent hues are soft and piercing, reminding me that we’re approaching the first day of spring. 

 The words I love you are dying to slip from my mouth, but I do my best to hold it together. 

 “Hey, big guy,” I whispered.

 “You always this pretty in the morning?”

 I rest my hand against his cheek and place a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you, baby.” His expression falters. He looks tired. Not physically. But mentally. “What’s on your mind?”

 “How I have to leave this room and fucking face reality again,” he admitted, rolling on his back and releasing a deep sigh. 

 I scoot closer to him to try and fill the small gap, but he pulls me on his chest instead.

 I give him a quick kiss before running my fingers through his raven locks. “This is reality. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. Now would I?”

 “That’s the thing, sweets… You don’t feel like reality.” He doesn’t look at me when he says his next words. Just stares at the ceiling into oblivion. “You feel like a dream... A good one.”

 He’s saying I feel too good to be true. 

 My eyes widened at his admission. Did he mean to say that out loud? I feel my heart pounding against my chest and I wonder if Toji hears it.  

 Before I’m able to respond, he continues speaking. “The scars. They don’t scare you?”

 I shake my head. “Why would they?”

 “A few women I slept with were scared,” he shrugs. “Some were turned on. Y’know—the scary hot boyfriend look.”

 “Remember I’m not scared of you, Toji Fushiguro,” I tell him. “But. . .”

 “Curious how I got them?”

 I sit up on his chest and hold his face. “Only if you’re comfortable, baby. You know I have patience for you.”

 Toji didn’t make it hard for me to fall for him. When he’s kind to me or how he protects me, it deepens my feelings for him. 

 But when he’s vulnerable like this . . . I feel like it’s only us two in the world.

 His attention returned to the ceiling and I noticed the tightness forming on his face. I know Toji well enough to tell when he’s skeptical about opening up to me. 

 Of course, I know this has nothing to do with me because he’s already expressed his comfort. It’s just him having difficulties letting his walls down since he’s been failed by a family that was supposed to protect his youth. 

 And because he lost his wife.

 However, when I snuggle into his neck and massage reassuring circles around the tattoo on his chest, I feel his body melting into mine. 

 “My old man was a drunk. Whenever he was bored or mad, he used me as his punching bag.” His voice is calm yet undetectable, like saying this out loud doesn’t phase him. “Think my body was used to it after the fourth scar.”

 “Oh, baby—”

 He feigns a laugh. “My uncle was the same way. Ha, imagine the two men that were supposed to look after the family, the brothers, taking turns beating on a brat like me.”

 His words weigh heavily on me the more he speaks. Hearing Toji’s abuse as a child breaks me and I’m almost positive he’s trying to convince himself that he’s okay. 

 How he’s still looking at the ceiling says otherwise, like if he made eye contact with me, he’d shatter.

 Continuing, he touches the right side of his mouth, whispering, “This is the last one they gave me… he gave me. . . My uncle.” He looked at me for the first time since venting and forced a smile. “I’ll always remember it… how it hurt the most. Mentally fucked me up.”

 Usually the silence between me and Toji is comfortable, to just bask in each other. But right now, when we finally lock eyes, I see pain. I see a man that is still being affected by his childhood trauma that’s harboring it alone. 

 His eyes look lifeless, different from the lust and hunger that oozed through them last night. How can eyes that resemble an expensive jewel look so tarnished? 

 At this moment, I don’t know if my words will help. I don’t know if it’ll give him the reassurance that he needs. That he didn’t deserve any of the pain that he endured all those years when he was a child up until he was a young adult. 

 So, I kissed him. 

 I climbed on top of him and kissed him with a burning desire to make him feel like he’s not alone. That I’ll always be there for him when he wants to say his thoughts out loud. That his heart and vulnerability is safe with me. 

 He’s not unlovable.

 He’s not a fuck up.

 He just needs time and reassurance… and I’ll always be here to give it.

 Always.

Toji’s POV

 “About fucking time you get a girlfriend, Fushiguro.”

 After spending the night and morning with Y/N, unfortunately, I had to leave and fucking face reality. 

 One part of my reality being I have a girlfriend now. And the other half is having Kong up my ass because he seems to take more of an interest in the States right than Japan.

 I’m almost positive it’s about this damn contract he’s adamant about me taking, but I’ll let him admit that later on. 

 For now, he’s been grilling me for the past hour about me and Y/N while we play pool in his rental. It’s not like I just blurted out that we’re together. There was just something different about my mood that he noticed. 

 And of course, it was because of her. 

 Y/N is actually my girlfriend. I mean, after the fuck we had last night, I couldn’t leave her apartment without officially making her mine. 

 Not only because of the sex, and not on anything sappy and spiritual, but with our weeks worth of conversation—she was bound to become my girl.

 Whether it was now or later. 

 How we talk to each other feels like we’ve known one another for a lifetime. And it’s funny that I feel this way because the dreams I’ve been having about Y/N just makes me feel closer to her. 

 These dreams are trying to convince me that I knew Y/N before the night we met at the bar. She was my girl. We were in each other's lives, being all domestic and shit. 

 But unsurprisingly—I ruined it. 

 It might’ve been my greed or selfishness that caused us to separate. That’s just the type of fucker I am. I was groomed to be this way, rough around the edges and always in survival mode. If it wasn’t my kid or my late wife, I didn’t give a damn about shit else. 

 Y/N? I want her to be one of the reasons why I do better. She sees me as a saint and I want to live up to her expectations. She’s too perfect for me, but maybe if I clean up a bit, I can be decent enough to be good for her. 

 Maybe I hate that motherfucker that she calls her ex, however, I’m sure he didn’t have to worry about all this. Cleaning up his image and shit. 

 He’s a fucking high school principal—how much more of a prude can he be? 

 Anyways, it doesn’t matter because Y/N is mine and I’m planning on keeping it that way. 

 “So, when can I meet her?” Kong asks, taking a puff of his cigarette. “The women down here are beautiful. Might have to see if she has friends for me, Fushiguro.”

 I snort. “Never, and I’m not playing matchmaker with you, shithead.”

 “Greedy?”

 “Only for my girl,” I answered simply. 

 My girl…

 That feels foreign yet so damn good to say. And based on Kong’s expression, he’s just as shocked as I am.

 “Pussywhipped?”

 I lean against the pool table and make a shot before taking a different angle. “I feel good about Y/N. I feel like… like I knew her before.”

 He chuckles. “You don’t say?” 

 “I’m fucking serious, Kong. Those feelings just didn’t sneak up on my ass.”

 “You love her?”

 “I don’t… at least not yet.” That doesn’t mean I’m opposed to it. 

 “Not yet? Fushiguro, is she the reason why you won’t take this contract?” He asks while looking at me with disbelief.

 “No, you little fuck. I told you why already. Why the hell are you pressing my ass about that?”

 “Maybe if you took a look at it, you would know why, jackass.”

 I’m never one to turn down money, but after becoming a husband and father, I had to let that lifestyle go. At any given moment, I’m prepared for death. That doesn’t mean I have to put my kid in harm's way, though.

 Probably was the best contract killer out there. I was clean with my victims, but there’s always a chance it can fall back on me, and rather take it on me, they’ll find a way to go after Megumi. 

 I could be dead and I’d still find a way to make sure that doesn’t fucking happens. 

 And with me now dating Y/N, I have another person to protect and care for, so taking contracts are not up for discussion.

 “Look, Fushiguro,” Kong begins, putting out his cigarette. “I know you got a boy to care for, and now you have a pretty little girlfriend, but check out the contract. It’ll probably be the most satisfying one you've ever done.”

 I quipped a brow. “Satisfying?”

 “Mhm, and plus the money is good. Could probably negotiate for them to have it in American currency.”

 It’s not like I’m going to take the contract, but I’m curious. “How much?”

 “Half a million.”

 “USD?”

 He nods, taking a swig of beer. “Check under your mattress when you get home. I left the envelope there.”

 “The fuck were you doing in my apartment, Kong?” I gave Kong a spare key since he’s Megumi’s godfather and emergency reasons. But that doesn’t mean he can go in and out of my place like I owe him money.

 “To spend time with my godson, dip shit.” He sits the pool stick against the table to pull out another cigarette to light. “Look over the shit, Fushiguro. Consider it. Make the money and come home. You have that pretty little lady now, so you could use the extra cash to spoil her.”

 As if I wasn’t going to fucking spoil Y/N regardless. 

 He continues, “And going back to her—when are you going to tell Megumi you’re snooping around with his teacher?”

 That… is… a good question I don’t know the answer to. 

 Me asking Y/N to be my girlfriend last night wasn’t planned. Didn’t even talk to the kid yet about me dating again because the last thing I want is for him to think I’m replacing his mom. 

 Telling him I’m seeing someone is one thing. Telling him I’m seeing his teacher is another. 

 It can either go one of two ways: he doesn’t care and just hits me with the “dad, you’re embarrassing” retort or two, he’ll hate me even more. 

 And I’m hoping sure as fuck it’s the former. 

 For now, I’ll cross the bridge when I get there and use this time to enjoy Y/N. 

 “Let me worry about that.”

 I don’t care how silent our dinners are, so as long as me and the kid have them together, I’m good. 

 With how shitty these past few weeks it been between us, I’m fucking surprised he still wants to be in the same room as me. 

 It’s safe to say meals together are our staple. Yeah, they’re quiet, but it still reminds me that I’m Megumi’s old man, and he’s my kid. Even so, a little conversation shouldn’t hurt. 

 I like to be transparent with Megs when it comes to life. He’s at that age where he knows about dating, sex, and other things. So I shouldn’t be nervous as shit when telling him I’m dating someone, but I am. 

 Let me ease in the topic a bit and go from there. 

 “School doing alright, kid?” 

 “Yeah… just a lot of catching up,” he replies. 

 I took a sip of my ginger ale and let out a burp that earned me a disgusting face from Megumi. “Sorry, Megs.” Can’t help but laugh because my kid is the complete opposite of me when it comes to manners. “Can we talk for a second?”

 “About?” 

 “How’d you feel if I… if I start dating again?”

 Like I caught him off guard, he paused midway when stuffing his mouth with the oyakodon I made tonight for dinner. His face is left undetectable, so I’m not sure if he’s annoyed or not, but he finishes chewing his food… very slowly. 

 Because I’m fucking nervous, I continue rambling like I always do. 

 “Don’t want you think I’m trying to replace your mother, it’s just-”

 “It’s fine.”

 I look at him in shock. “Huh?”

 “I said it’s fine. Whatever, dad. I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

 “Well, I just want to make sure you’re cool with that,” I tell him while finishing up my offal. “You’re my priority and you need to know I’m dating before I bring her around.” I notice a tint of pink rushing to his ears and I can’t help but chuckle from seeing him shy away. 

 “Dad, stop being corny.”

 I scruff his hair. “Not happening.”

 As usual, he slaps my hand away before standing up to refill his water. “Are you already dating someone?”

 “I am,” I answer, smiling a little too card. See how Y/N has me?

 “Surprised you found someone to put up with you.”

 “I’m convinced you and Kong talk crap about me when I’m not around,” I joke. “Your old man still has it.” 

 “Whatever you say, dad.”

 Banter like this… it feels fucking good. Reminds me of the times where his mother was alive and we would crack jokes while eating instant ramen in our rundown apartment.

 Just wish it was always like this. Wish there was never this damn strain on our relationship that I caused because I was being a shitty parent. Even if the kid shows annoyance with me, I get happy about that shit because it’s better than nothing.

 It’s something. Something that I can work with where I have the opportunity to show him I want to be a better old man to him. Better than what mine was to me. 

 So yeah, we’ve been like oil and water lately. Sometimes it feels like I’m arguing with my little brother more than my kid, however, after tonight–I feel good. When Y/N told me Megumi would come around, it’s like she manifested that shit.

 Ha, look at me. Now I’m even talking like her. 

 The things she does to me… 

 I just hope things don't turn into a shit show when I tell Megumi I’m dating his reading teacher. 

 “Are you going to bring her around?” He asks.

 “Yeah… Yeah, I am… eventually. I just want to make sure she’ll be here for a while.”

 Bullshit. I’m more than positive that Y/N and I aren’t going anywhere because I have no intentions of letting go.

 Not when I felt like I already had before.

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discussion question #7 — why do you guys think shiu kong is so adamant about toji taking this contract? any guess? i would love to read your responses and your thoughts on this chapter. thank you for reading and i'll see you next time ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

[unnamed-proxy]

Ok let’s go I’m ready to ramble about literally all of these 3,2,1 go

1; Funny story actually. I had left the fnaf fandom a little bit before Help Wanted came out and had been long since burnt out on fnaf after hyperfixating on it since fnaf 4s trailer dropped. So I had little to no idea wtf was happening at the time and one of the YouTubers I watched posted an animation of the Freddy beatboxing meme with GR Fred and Sun screaming at the end (Seeks Animation And Stuff if you were wondering). Had zero clue who they were at the time and kind of just brushed it off with only mild curiosity on who this weird sun faced dude was, forgot about it soon after. THEN more SB gameplay gets recommended to me on YouTube and I’m faced with the reality of “wait that guy was in the game???” Leading me to start getting into it all, find out more about security breach, Moonman enters my life, hyperfixation quickly ensues and now I’m here!

2: Kellen Goffs voice performance, was also a hardcore Funtime Freddy fan back in 2016 so needless to say he hooked me pretty easily.

3: Since about December 27th around!

4: lol no

5: This piece probably

6: Gosh, when it comes to this fandom it’s genuinely hard to pick. It’s a HARD tie between horror and romance. DCA writers have a knack for writing the most out-there crackships into a masterpiece and, as a multi shipper, I end up consuming a lot of those fics very frequently. But also my initial love for Moon in particular was how well he contrasted Sun and their attempts at friendliness, so to get some horror content based on his actions, ESPECIALLY from Sunny’s perspective, never fails to disappoint.

7: Oh without a doubt ‘Like Clockwork’ by Gallexy Cat. It is such a good read and one of the only Y/n fics I’ve ever been able to get invested in (No offense to all the writers in this fandom who do x Reader and the like ofc y’all are great) I definitely recommend it to anyone reading this!

8: Nope

9: They are so fucking ugly in the best way possible. It’s such a nice contrast between the decals and the actual models, the posters set up such expectations and I feel like all the inconsistencies between the two versions perfectly encapsulates how Fazbear treats its robots. Sun & Moon are so unkept and nasty they SCREAM neglect more then anything else and it makes me want to vomit and then give them a little pat on the head and make them my scroingly doinglys. And I think it’s that uglyness that allows such creativity and freedom in redesigns and interpretations from the fandom! If they looked more appealing in game, we wouldn’t be as inclined to completely rework them from the ground up like we do now. Aka, absolutely hideous, disgusting, god awful and uncanny /pos

10: Mainly autism, but also because they’re insanely fun to draw and are personally intertwined with my artstyle in a way that leads me to always come back to them when I drop out of a hyperfixation/fandom. They’re like those old worn out toys that you always say you’re going to sell or give away or put in storage but every time you open up the moving box and see them at the top of all your stuff you just feel the need to snuggle with them and play with them for what you always say will be the final time, if that makes any sense.

11: Hooooboy, character design wise? Moon, 1000% Moon. But as a *character* I’d have to go with Sun, since I don’t think that Moon is much of a character without Sun in tow when boiled down. As much as I love my unhinged nightlight spider I’ll be picking Sunny on this one, way more writing potential and stuff to experiment with even without their counterpart and…. In game predicament.

12: They are…. Not what I expected to say the least. Not in a bad way though! As I imagine most of the fandom does, I have a lot of thoughts about them. They make no sense and they logically shouldn’t exist in the ways they do but at the same time they’re my father now and there’s nothing you can do to pry them away from me. So many ways to interpret them, so many questions, so much angst potential- are they a Steven universe fusion between the two? A factory reboot for a daycare ai while Sun and Moon are still the theater personalities? Something entirely different and an entire new person that just isn’t mentioned in the base game???? Are they the original attendant and Sun and Moon are the branch offs or is it the other way around? Are they in denial? Are they stupid? Are Sun and Moon still alive or was the ‘Thank you’ their last words? What is going on??? Idk but I love it because all I’m seeing is a soft spoken little creature who deserves better and they can do no wrong and you’re crazy if you think otherwise, your honor.

13: Getting into big headcannon territory with this one, but I am under the strong belief that the virus simply turns up the flaws of the bots AIs to a hundred and seeing what happens. I feel like Pre-glitch Sunny was much more akin to their fannon interpretation, happy go lucky, childish, playful, albeit with quite awful self esteem and anxiety and maaaybeee just a teeeny weeeny bit of a pushover turned people pleaser by circumstance.

14: Soft Moon truther stepping up to the stand rn. In my opinion PG Moon was more or less the same as Security Breach Moon, though significantly toned down. He was pleasant, soft spoken like Eclipse, much more emotionally stable than Sunny, but definitely a prankster at heart and unwilling to put up with the staffs BS. He probably had a bit of a temper, leading to his bad reputation amongst the employees and ultimately being the patient zero of the virus, but while in a good mood he’d just do a little mischief after hours with nothing too harmful, just annoying at worse while he kicks his feet up into the air and laughs until he’s out of breath while you glare at him and wait for him to calm down. I believe that in Ruin he’s simply just angry because of how long he was kept out of control and wants to get back at Sun for it, unaware of their reasons and unwilling to listen because of the genuine, pent up rage from being trapped for so long.

15: I’m privy to both interpretations honestly! Though I very much lean towards them being entirely separate beings that just so happen to share a body and try to make the most of it, but with Eclipse factored into the conversation the idea of them being two wayward halves of one lost identity has been getting more and more appealing the more I’m exposed to it. And no, at the end of the day I don’t really think it matters.

16: More exploration of how Sun and Moons relationship and personality’s got to where it is now. What were they like at the beginning? Did they always hate each other? Did they use to be separate people? Why were they combined? How did everything go down after they were infected? What events took place in between Cassy’s memories of having such nice, good times in the daycare and the unstable nightmare of Ruin and Security breach? There’s a lot of potential for that and I don’t think people consider it enough!

17: Reader insert content honestly, it’s fine in doses but it does get kind of tiring after awhile. Especially for someone like me who’s never been much of a fan of that kind of content. Once again no offense to anyone who makes that content /gen

18: Moons mini game in Help Wanted 2!! :D:D

19: According to the cannon content we have? Stars above absolutely not. Sun would make me so anxious and I don’t think I need to even explain for Moon.

20: I feel like the puppet, ballora, and the DCA should all get in a room together and have a little hang out. I wanna see Moon and Ballora have an overly-flexible-acrobatic spider off while Sun gives Charlie the childhood that was stolen from her (while Moon keeps her calm with his music box maybe?) I love all the little parallels and threads that tie the humanoid characters together a lot, seeing them together -even in my own daydreams- just makes me happy lol

alright dca fandom, here's some questions bc i'm curious. the funky jesters make our brains go brr, but why? treat it as an ask game or answer in the tags if you feel like it! :)

how did you get here?

why these characters in particular? what was the hook for you?

how long have you been here?

have you actually played fnaf sb?

if you make content, what's your favorite piece you've contributed?

what's your favorite sort of art or fic? what genre/flavor/style?

what's your favorite au?

do you have any ocs, or have any ocs you're fond of?

what do you think of the dca's canon appearance? Scary? Cute? Something else?

what keeps you in this fandom despite the very small amount of canon content the dca had?

be honest: if you had to pick only one, sun or moon?

thoughts on eclipse?

thoughts on pre-glitch sun?

thoughts on pre-glitch moon?

do you interpret sun and moon as two sides of the same person, or truly two separate beings in one body? does it matter?

what's something in the fandom you'd like to see more of?

what's something in the fandom you'd like to see less of?

anything you're looking forward to?

do you think you'd actually get along with the dca if you met them irl?

free space! talk about whatever's on your mind!

[onethousandandone]

a tribute to teenage love

Throughout my life I have experienced many new emotions. Some of them I often hope are a one time- never do again type of emotion, but some are so euphoric I chase them like a drug addict that will do anything for their next hit. My drug is love, or the feeling of being wanted to be more precise. The feeling of pure content. The last time I remember being completely at peace was my junior year of high school- dating my first boyfriend (I was absolutely convinced we were going to be together forever; I haven’t spoken to him in over 2 years now), I had good grades, and okay friends. Before that was all I needed. Everything is just so much more complicated now. I hate it. I wish I could say “Ugh, I just wish I could be a little kid again”, but I don’t want to ever be a little kid again. My childhood was arguably worse then my current C+ at best young adulthood. I keep waiting for my life to turn some kind of new leaf, and to change and somehow become more manageable but I don’t think it ever will. I recently came to the realization that I am simply unlucky. Strange coincidences of people in my life dying on the same day, meeting my “dream” guy two months before I moved away to college, literally everything has a fucking catch. I wonder what its like for things to go your way, as obnoxious as it sounds. Sometimes I wish I had a different life, that I was born into a different family, or in a different city or just that anything could possibly changed in my life that would make living a little bit easier. But of course not, it’s just not for me, the easy life. I was born and bred to deal with the hardest shit someone possibly could, and just to learn to somehow suppress it to such an extent that even I myself forget some of the things Ive experienced. Easier that way I think; even if everyone says its unhealthy: if I pretend nothing happened, maybe it will magically disappear or I will just start forgetting the worst bits and pieces until someone will just have to remind me it happened in the first place. Being unlucky is maybe a good thing, because at this point, what is there left for me to be disappointed about? Ive seen it all, Ive felt it all. I wonder if I will ever feel my favorite feeling again. Love. So silly, so cheesy, but I get it now. 

I have been in love 1 and half times.  I say half because I started to feel that familiar feeling recently, but it was ripped away by the worst factor of all: time. I ran out of it, I had to move away, move on with my life. And now I must pretend that 0.5 of love never happened. That maybe I had just imagined him, his hair and the tattoos and the music and the sex. It was just a very detailed dream, and maybe i’ll start to forget it soon, but just not yet. I just woke up and I remember it vividly; remembering is tiring, maybe i’ll fall asleep and dream of something else soon. Now the majority of the love I remember was years ago, a dream I had that stuck with me. All consuming and crazy and toxic and aggressive and insane and : so in love. Him I forget now, I forget what he looked like and how he spoke and just everything about him. I think everything about me changed after Him. It was too much at 16, and I could never let myself do that again. Feel that way, let myself completely dissolve into someone. I almost let it happen the second time around, but I always knew in the back of my mind that I never could again. Another cliche, but I just truly wouldn’t survive it. I think losing myself in someone else again would strip away whatever sense of the pure and soft humanity I have left. 

“I am nothing if not an incredibly soft woman“